With this in his mind he hastily packed a gladstone bag, changed into tweeds, and told Mrs. Tribb that he was going to London for a day or so.  “I shall get a trap at the inn and drive to the station,” he said, as he halted at the door.  “You will receive a wire saying when I shall return,” and leaving the dry little woman, open-mouthed at this sudden departure, the young man hastened away.

Instead of going straight to the village, he took a roundabout road to the camp on the verge of Abbot’s Wood.  Here he found the vagrants in a state of great excitement, as Lord Garvington had that afternoon sent notice by a gamekeeper that they were to leave his land the next day.  Taken up with his own private troubles, Lambert did not pay much attention to those of the tribe, and looked about for Chaldea.  He finally saw her sitting by one of the fires, in a dejected attitude, and touched her on the shoulder.  At once, like a disturbed animal, she leaped to her feet.

“The rye!” said Chaldea, with a gasp, and a hopeful look on her face.

“Give me three days before you say anything to Pine,” said Lambert in a low voice, and a furtive look round.  “You understand.”

“No,” said the girl boldly.  “Unless you mean—­”

“Never mind what I mean,” interrupted the man hastily, for he was determined not to commit himself.  “Will you hold your tongue for three days?”

Chaldea looked hard at his face, upon which the red firelight played brightly, but could not read what was in his mind.  However, she thought that the request showed a sign of yielding, and was a mute confession that he knew he was in her power.  “I give you three days,” she murmured.  “But—­”

“I have your promise then, so good-bye,” interrupted Lambert abruptly, and walked away hastily in the direction of Garvington village.  His mind was more or less of a chaos, but at all events he had gained time to reduce the chaos to some sort of order.  Still as yet he could not see the outcome of the situation and departed swiftly in order to think it over.

Chaldea made a step or two, as if to follow, but a reflection that she could do no good by talking at the moment, and a certainty that she held him in the hollow of her hand, made her pause.  With a hitch of her shapely shoulders she resumed her seat by the fire, brooding sombrely on the way in which this Gentile had rejected her love.  Bending her black brows and showing her white teeth like an irritated dog, she inwardly cursed herself for cherishing so foolish a love.  Nevertheless, she did not try to overcome it, but resolved to force the Gorgio to her feet.  Then she could spurn him if she had a mind to, as he had spurned her.  But she well knew, and confessed it to herself with a sigh, that there would be no spurning on her part, since her wayward love was stronger than her pride.

“Did the Gentile bring the gold, my sister?” asked a harsh voice, and she raised her head to see Kara’s hairy face bent to her ear.