She gathered her dressing-gown tight about her, and, going to the window,
raised it high and leaned out.
"What do you want?" she asked sharply.
"Wife of Jethro Fawe, I bring you news," the voice said, and she saw a
hat waved with mock courtesy. In spite of herself, Fleda felt a shiver of
premonition pass through her. The Thing which had threatened her in the
night seemed to her now like the soul of this dark spirit in the trees.
Resentment seized her. "I have news for you, Jethro Fawe," she replied.
"I set you free, and I gave my word that no harm should come to you, if
you went your ways and did not come again. You have come, and I shall do
nothing now to save you from the Ry's anger. Go at once, or I will wake
him."
"Will a wife betray her husband?" he asked in soft derision.
Stung by his insolence, "I would not throw a rope to you, if you were
drowning," she declared. "I am a Gorgio, and the thing that was done by
the Starzke River is nothing to me. Now, go."
"You have forgotten my news," he said: "It is bad news for the Gorgio
daughter of the Romany Ry." She was silent in apprehension. He waited,
but she did not speak.
"The Gorgio of Gorgios of the Sagalac has had a fall," he said.
Her heart beat fast for an instant, and then the presentiment came to her
that the man spoke the truth.
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