“Things have changed,” cried out Chaldea with a mocking laugh.  “For old wisdom is dead leaves, and I am the tree which puts forth the green of new truths to make the Gorgios take off their hats to the Romans.”

“Oh, spawn of the old devil, but you lie.  Truth is truth and changes not.  Can you read the hand? can you cheat the Gentile? do you know the law of the Poknees, and can you diddle them as has money?  Says you, ’I can!’ And in that you lie, like your mother before you.  Bless your wisdom”—­Mother Cockleshell made an ironical curtsey.  “Age must bow before a brat.”

“Beauty draws money to the Romans, and wheedles the Gorgios to part with red gold.  Wrinkles you have, mother, and weak wits to—­”

“Weak wits, you drab?  My weakest wits are your strongest.  ‘Wrinkles,’ says you in your cunning way, and flaunts your brazen smoothness.  I spit on you for a fool.”  The old woman suited her action to the word.  “Every wrinkle is the mark of lessons learned, and them is wisdom which the Romans take from my mouth.”

“Hear the witchly hag,” cried Chaldea in her turn.  “She and her musty wisdom that puts the Romans under the feet of the Gentiles.  Are not three of our brothers in choky? have we not been turned off common and out of field?  Isn’t the fire low and the pot empty, and every purse without gold?  Bad luck she has brought us,” snarled the girl, pointing an accusing finger.  “And bad luck we Romans will have till she is turned from the camp.”

“Like a dog you would send me away,” shrieked Mother Cockleshell, glancing round and seeing that Chaldea’s supporters outnumbered her own.  “But I’m dangerous, and go I shall as a queen should, at my own free will.  I cast a shoe amongst you,”—­she flung one of her own, hastily snatched off her foot—­“and curses gather round it.  Under its heels shall you lie, ye Romans, till time again and time once more be accomplished.  I go on my own,” she turned and walked to the door of her tent.  “Alone I go to cheat the Gentiles and win my food.  Take your new queen, and with her sorrow and starvation, prison, and the kicks of the Gorgios.  So it is, as I have said, and so it shall be.”

She vanished into the tent, and the older members of the tribe, shaking their heads over the ill-omen of her concluding words, withdrew sorrowfully to their various habitations, in order to discuss the situation.  But the young men and women bowed down before Chaldea and forthwith elected her their ruler, fawning on her, kissing her hands and invoking blessings on her pretty face, that face which they hoped and believed would bring prosperity to them.  And there was no doubt that of late, under Mother Cockleshell’s leadership, the tribe had been unfortunate in many ways.  It was for this reason that Chaldea had raised the standard of rebellion, and for this reason also she gained her triumph.  To celebrate her coronation she gave Kara, who hovered constantly at her elbow, a couple of sovereigns, and told him to buy food and drink.  In a high state of enjoyment the gypsies dispersed in order to prepare for the forthcoming festivity, and Chaldea, weary but victorious, stood alone by the steps of the caravan, which was her perambulating home.  Seizing her opportunity, Miss Greeby approached.