Gypsy Flight

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER XI GOODBYE FAIR

  Rosemary, Florence, Jeanne and Danby did not leave the Fair grounds atonce. Indeed they could not because of the crush. They did turn theirfaces toward the exit.

  As they pressed their way out of the dense throngs to a spot where therewas at least space for breathing, their eyes were greeted by strangesights.

  Off to the right a group of thoughtless revelers were tearing up ahedge. Some were carrying away the shrubs as souvenirs, others wereusing them as mock-weapons for beating one another over the back.

  From a village where imitation towers reared themselves to the sky camecries of laughter and screams of distress. Presently a throng brokethrough the flimsy walls and came pouring out. They had gone too far intheir vandalism. The firemen had thrown a cooling stream of water ontheir heated brows.

  "They'll have time enough to cool off now," Danby Force laughed.

  "But how sad to think that those who so often have come to this place tofind beauty and happiness should, on this last night, remain todestroy!" There was a look of distress on the little French girl's face.

  "Come!" said Danby Force, "There are some things we must try to forget.This is one of them. Let us always think of the great Fair as it was inthe height of its glory."

  As they moved on toward the Aisle of Flags, they came to a spot that,like an eddy in a stream, even on this night of turmoil was at rest.

  "Goodbye." A boy was clasping a girl's hand. "Goodbye Mary. See you atthe next Fair."

  Jeanne knew these two a little. They had worked side by side sellingorangeade and ice cream cones. Now it was "Goodbye until the next Fair."

  "And when that comes," she murmured, "their hair will be gray. Goodbyeuntil the next Fair."

  As they passed an apparently deserted hot-dog stand, Jeanne caught sightof a figure crumpled up in a dark corner. A young girl, perhaps not yeteighteen, she sat with head on arms, silently sobbing.

  Jeanne was gypsy enough to read that girl's fortune. All through thebright summer days and on into the glorious autumn, the great Fair hadoffered her means of making a living. Perhaps she was helping to supporther parents. Who could tell? Now it was all over--the last hot-dog sold."Goodbye Fair," Jeanne whispered, swallowing hard.

  Stepping silently back, she slipped a bit of green paper into the girl'shand, then disappeared too quickly to be seen.

  "Life must be beautiful," she said to Danby Force, "but how can it be,for all?"

  "It must be increasingly beautiful for all." The young man's face set inhard lines of determination.

  Jeanne thought of the work he had done for his own little city, thoughttoo of those industrial spies who threatened to destroy it all. "I musthelp," she told herself almost fiercely. "I must do all I can. Life,"she whispered reverently, "Life _must_ be beautiful."

  As for Florence, her mind all this while was so full of the morrow thatshe had little thought for the passing hour. "Tomorrow," she was sayingto herself, "I shall be speeding through the air with Danby Force on myway to a new field and fresh adventure. I am to help the children, yes,and the grownups, of a small city--to enjoy life. At the same time I amto search for a spy." She wondered in a vague sort of way what thatsearch would be like and how successful she would be as a ladydetective. She was wondering still when Danby Force said:

  "Time for a hot drink before the clock strikes one."

  "Yes. Oh yes!" Jeanne's voice rose in sudden eagerness. "I know the veryplace. It is run by some English gypsies. At this time of night onlygypsies will be found there. But, ah my friend, such good tea as theybrew! You never could know until you have sipped it."

  "Ah, a gypsy's den at one in the morning! Show us the way." And Danbyhailed a taxi.

  Ten minutes later they were entering a long, low basement room such asonly Jeanne had seen before. It was finished as the inside of theancient gypsy vans were finished, in a score of bright colors, red,yellow, orange, blue, silver and gold. There were few lights. Some werelike ancient lanterns, and some were mere glimmering tapers. Trophies ofthe hunt hung against the walls--the head of a deer, the grinningskeleton of a wild boar's head.

  There were no chairs. Instead all sat, true gypsy fashion, on rugs.Strange rugs they were too, woven of some heavy material and allbrightly colored.

  In one corner a group of dark foreign looking people in bright costumessat smoking long-stemmed pipes and sipping tea. A cloud of smoke,hanging close to the ceiling, created the illusion of low-hanging cloudsand the out-of-doors.

  "Perfect!" Danby murmured.

  At sound of his voice, a solidly built woman, wrapped in a bright shawl,turned to look up at him. In her eyes was a dreamy look. Before her onthe floor were cards. On the cards were pictures--a snake, a house, afountain, a lion, a mouse, a burning fire.

  "Madame Bihari!" Florence exclaimed, delighted. "And you have the gypsywitch cards. You shall tell my fortune, for tomorrow I am to begin asplendid new adventure."

  "You shall find beauty and happiness." Madame smiled a glad smile. Shedid not look at the cards. "You have learned a great secret. Health,strength, sunshine, the wide out-of-doors--they are your great joy. Withthese alone anyone may find happiness. You are a true gypsy at heart, mysplendid Florence."

  "Thank you. That is kind." Florence favored her with a rare smile. "ButMadame, please, my fortune! You have never told it."

  "There is no need," the gypsy woman murmured. "It is written in yourface.

  "But sit you all down upon my rug. Order me a good cup of black tea andyou shall have as good a fortune as I can bring you. But beware, child!You have insisted. If the cards turn up wrong, do not blame your poorold Madame Bihari. It is you who shall shuffle, cut and deal--not I."

  When tea had been brought on a silver tray, Florence shuffled the cards,cut them with her left hand, then placed them one by one in their properpositions. Then Madame, bending forward, began to study them. The fourfriends, forgetting their tea, sat upon their feet, waiting in eagerexpectation. Moving in from their corner, the gypsies too watched insilence.

  Over one who has seen them often an indescribable spell is cast by thegypsy witch cards. The serpent striking at some unseen object; the eye,gleaming at you from the half darkness; the fire leaping from thehearth; the mouse; the clasped hands; the lightning--all these and manyothers appear to take on a special meaning. And so they do in very truthto the teller of fortunes.

  When at last Madame began to speak, an audible sigh rose from the littlegroup of watchers.

  "You have friends." Her voice was low and even as the murmur of a slowmoving stream. "Many friends. It is well, for there shall be perils.There is one you may wish to trust, even to love a little; but you mustnot, for that one is a traitor."

  "The spy!" Jeanne whispered in her companion's ear.

  "The spy!" Florence shuddered.

  "You shall serve and shall be served," Madame went on. "You shalltravel--high in air."

  "Tomorrow," Danby laughed a low laugh.

  "You are entering upon a fresh adventure. Will you succeed?" Madamestared long at the cards. "It is not written here. The cards are silent.Perhaps another time." She looked up with a slow smile on her face.

  "And now, Jeannie, my little one, my tea."

  A long sighing breath from every pair of lips, a light nervous laugh,then the spell was broken. Florence knew her fortune. They might alldrink their tea, then scatter to their homes for a short night ofrepose. To Florence, at least, the coming day would bring new scenes andfresh promise of adventure.