by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XXIII THE GYPSY'S WARNING
When Rosemary Sample discovered that the person who had attached herselfto the learned party being conducted through the textile mill was noneother than the spy, she found herself in a tight position. This visit ofthe wise men, she realized from the look on Danby Force's serious face,was an occasion of no small importance. "A group of Universityprofessors do not charter a plane every day in the week in order thatthey may be conducted through a factory or mill," she assured herself."If I cry 'WOLF!'--if I let them know there is an industrial spy intheir midst, everything will be thrown into confusion. The charm willhave been broken, the entire effect lost.
"I'll keep an eye on this spy," she thought, "I'll see that nothing istaken from the mill. When the tour is over I will see that she is takeninto account and made, at least, to explain why she is here." That thematter would go much farther than that, she did not doubt. Would therebe a struggle? She shuddered.
During the half hour that followed, though no one would have guessed it,Rosemary heard not a word that her good friend Danby Force was saying tothe learned professors.
And then, at the very end, Danby did something that commanded herattention in spite of herself. The guests were passing one at a timethrough a narrow door. Danby was working levers on a peculiarinstrument.
"Perhaps you would like to know--" there was an amused look on his face."All of you might like to know what I am doing. I am spraying you withthe light from an X-ray lamp.
"In your case I am sure it is quite unnecessary. But it is a precautionwe take with all those who pass through our mill. In these days of keenindustrial struggle there are spies everywhere seeking to secureadvantages through trickery. They often carry tiny cameras concealedupon their persons. Should there be one such among you, the X-ray lightwould entirely ruin his negatives. His picture-taking would be withoutresult."
As he made this explanation Danby caught and held the little stewardess'interest for a brief interval. Fatal interest. Ten seconds later, whenshe gripped his arm to whisper, "Danby Force! There--there is your spy!"she found herself staring at empty space. The spy had vanished.
Danby stared at her in amazement. "What? You don't mean--" He wasapparently unable to finish.
"Yes, yes! She was here. She was dressed as a young man. But it was awoman. I saw her fumbling at the back of her coat, as only a womanwould. And now--now she's gone!"
"Quick!" He whispered low, that the professors might not hear. "Runoutside. Perhaps you can see her. If you do, ask any man about the plantto seize her. He'd do it at the risk of his life."
There was no demand for such heroism. The spy had vanished. Look whereshe might, call others to her aid as she did, the little stewardesscould find no trace of her.
When, disappointed and downhearted, she returned to the office of theplant, Danby Force only smiled and said quietly, "Forget it. We willcatch up with her yet. You'll see!
"And now," he added briskly, "come with me. We are to take this group oflearned men for a tour of our little city. Then, I regret to say, wemust part once more. You are to start them back to Chicago in just onehour."
What Rosemary saw in that hour's ride through shady streets and narrow,beautiful lanes more than once caused her throat to tighten with purejoy at the realization that here at least was one community wherehappiness and simple prosperity reigned. The streets were clean, thenarrow lawns well cared for, the small homes painted, and the people,for the most part, smiling.
Yet, even as her heart swelled with admiration for those who could bringsuch a state of affairs into being, her mind was filled with misgiving.
"It doesn't seem possible that one selfish person could spoil all this,"she said in a low tone to Danby.
"Yet it _is_ possible." His brow wrinkled. "Once the secrets of our newprocesses are in the hands of unscrupulous persons, they will beexploited. And that will bring ruin to us.
"We have not tried to expand," he said a moment later. "Perhaps weshould have done so. But it has seemed to us that much of theunhappiness of the world has been brought about by the desire of honestbut misguided men to tear down factories and build bigger, to cut costs,to sell cheaper in every market. Our aim has been an honest living, andsimple contentment for all."
"Simple contentment for all," the girl whispered to herself. "What wouldthat not mean if it were realized by every person in this great land ofours!"
Yet, even as she thought this, an imaginary colossal figure appeared toloom above her, the figure of a dark-faced woman who never smiled, andshe seemed to be saying:
"My bag! My traveling bag! It is gone!"
"And yet it was not gone," the girl told herself.
"There's a golden-haired French girl," Danby Force was speaking again."She travels in an airplane with a gypsy woman and a child. Strangecombination," he mused. Then, more briskly, "They have a secret ofdyeing in purple that would be of immense value to us. But it belongs tohundreds of gypsies in France. Dare we ask her to reveal that secret?Have we a right to it? That, for the moment, is a question. I am unableto answer."
"Yes," Rosemary replied, "I too know Petite Jeanne. She is a dear!"
Little did either of them realize that at this very moment Jeanne wasclose at hand, on Happy Vale's landing field. Rosemary left that veryfield an hour later without discovering Jeanne's presence.
That afternoon, on wandering across the grounds before the mill,Florence came face to face with Hugo. He appeared quite worried and illat ease. His attempt to favor her with one of his dazzling smiles was afailure.
"Does he know I took the picture?" she asked herself after he had passedon. "Does he know about the camera? And was it his camera?"
As she closed her eyes and tried to picture to herself the face of thespy she had so long sought, she saw not Miriam Dvorac and her darksister, not Hans Schneider, not Ina Piccalo and not the curious personwho trimmed the shrubs about the grounds. Instead, a very different faceappeared, a smiling face she had seen many times before. Startled bythis picture, she exclaimed: "No! No! It cannot be!" And yet the pictureremained.
Yes, as Florence had guessed, Hugo was troubled, so very much troubledthat any person with an eye for such things could have told it quicklyenough. And he was superstitious. Oh, very much so! Selfish people whothink much of their own happiness and very little of others are likelyto be superstitious. So, when one of his fellow-workers told him thatsomething very strange had happened--that two gypsies, one very old anddark, and one young, blonde and beautiful, had come flying in from theair, he said at once: "It is Fate. I shall have my fortune told."
Jeanne was not in sight when he arrived. Madame Bihari, seated upon herbright rug before the tent, was shuffling her witch cards. Shuffling,dealing, then gathering them up to shuffle and deal again, she did notso much as look up as Hugo, magnificent in his bright garments,approached. His roving eyes sought in vain for the beautiful younggypsy. His countenance fell.
"But after all," he reasoned, "I came to have my fortune told. The olderones are best for that."
"Old woman," he said rather rudely, "tell my fortune."
Madame did not look up. Her face darkened as she cut and dealt thecards.
Hugo appeared to understand, for he said in a quiet tone, "I would likemy fortune told."
Madame looked up. Something like a dark frown passed over her face.Madame had lived long and in many lands. There were faces that to herwere like an open book in a bright light. She read them with greatestease.
"Today," she said slowly, "we have traveled far."
Then she shuffled and dealt once more.
Hugo grew impatient. He opened his lips to utter harsh words, whenMadame said:
"Cross my palm with silver."
Carelessly, Hugo threw a silver half dollar on the rug. The frown onMadame's face deepened.
"Here are the cards," she said in an even tone. "You must sit downbefore me. You must shuffle them well. Y
ou will cut them with your lefthand--this is very important, then you will deal them six in a row, theneight in a row for five rows, after that six in a row once more. Allmust be face up with pictures toward me. To deal wrongly is sure tobring bad fortune."
Hugo's hand trembled as he cut and dealt the cards. Darkness had fallen.Only the glimmer of a small fire lighted up the cards and Madame's darkface. Despite his care, he turned the picture of a snake toward himself.
"Ah!" Madame snatched at the card. "You have redoubled your misfortune."
"Here! Give me the cards! I'll deal them again!" Hugo exclaimed.
"What is done is done." Madame's voice seemed to come from the depths ofa well.
And "Ah!" she muttered after one moment of scrutinizing the cards. "Whatan evil fortune you have laid out before me!"
At this Hugo appeared to exert all his will to snatch away the cards,but seemed powerless to move a muscle. So he sat there staring.
"The mountain, the broken glass--" Madame was speaking now in amonotonous singsong. "The fox, the dog, the rapier, the lightning, thelion, all clustered about you and all telling of misfortune! My life hasbeen long, but never have I read such omens of evil!
"And such a jolly life as you have lived!" She went on without lookingup. "Everything has been yours--youth, love, friends, happiness--allthat you could ask."
"And now?" The words stuck in Hugo's throat.
"Now--" Madame's voice rose. "Now it were better for you if you were notin your native land. Discovery is at hand. Hate will enter whereadmiration and love have lingered long. The wealth you have hoped forwill never come. You shall wander far alone without a friend."
After Madame had ended this long utterance of prophecy, she sat for onefull moment staring gloomily at the cards. Would she have changed theirreading if she could? Who can say? How had she known so much? Hadsomeone told her? Certainly not. Had the cards truly guided her? Againwe must reply, who knows? There is wisdom in every land that to us, whothink ourselves so very wise, is hidden.
When Madame looked up at last, Hugo was gone. Darkness had closed aboutthe place where he had been. With a heavy high, Madame gathered up hercards. Then, having thrown fresh fuel on the fire, she called softly:"Jeanne! My Petite Jeanne!"
Jeanne peered with sleepy eyes from within the tent. "Jeanne," Madamesaid, "tonight I have told a fortune. Ah, such a terrible fortune!Tomorrow, my Jeanne, tomorrow and the day that is to follow, strangethings will happen, very strange indeed."
She did not describe the person whose fortune had been told, nor hadJeanne seen him. She had been asleep in the tent. Perhaps this wasunfortunate. But you alone shall be the judge.
