Am I
deceived, I who have known more liars than any man under the sky? Am I to
be fooled, who have seen so many fools in their folly? There is roguery
in you, or I have never seen roguery."
"I am a true Romany, my Ry," the other answered with an air of courage
and a little defiance also.
"You are a rogue and a liar, that is sure. These wailings are your own.
The Romany goes on his way as he has gone these hundreds of years. If I
am silent, my people will wait until I speak again; if they see me not
they will wait till I enter their camps once more. Why are you here?
Speak, rogue and liar." The wrathful old man, sure in his reading of the
youth, towered above him commandingly. It almost seemed as though he
would do him bodily harm, so threatening was his attitude, but the young
Romany raised his head, and with a note of triumph said:
"I have come for my own, as it is my right."
"What is your own?"
"What has been yours until now, my Ry."
A grey look stole slowly up the strong face of the exiled leader, for his
mind suddenly read the truth behind the young man's confident words.
"What is mine is always mine," he answered roughly. "Speak! What is it I
have that you come for?"
The young man braced himself and put a hand upon his lips.
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