Evening Star Newspaper, May 10, 1931, Page 76

and Romance in the LandWhere the' Gypsy Folk Come From. JLLUSTRATED BY PAUL KROESEN. AVID STANTON’S blood was on fire with the lure of a gypsy maiden. Red lips, sweet and heavy as a ripe pomegranate. Green eyes. Black bhair that grew purple when the moon was faint. A skin that war Jovelier than the eclor cf gold. Mysterious. For three wecks mow the girl had been in his blood. Her words had gone singing through his head. Other people might talk about the weather . . . the mail from home . . . the spell of the southern land . . . the sorcery of the moon that spiashed the long white beach . . . But be knew. 3 He had found a gypsy maiden with a wisp of red for a skirt and & yellow scarf for a blouse. He had caught the barbaric rhythm in her laughter. He had crushed her lips beneath his own until they were bruised. He had been spent. But she had only laughed. Laughed 2nd run away along the white sand by the star-rimmed lake. But he had caught her. Brought her back. Made her cease her laughing until she, too, was still and hushed and ‘waiting. And he was going to marry Catherine Oat- Jey, whose wide blue eyes had never spanned the road to Paradise in ome single burming glance; whose slim, white hands were cool and quiet. Not like the restiess amber of a gypsy’s palms. He was going to marry Catherine Oatley when Summer ended. She would have cards made with their names engraved . . . she would match the mint-green linen of her nap- kins with breakfast cups and saucers . . . and would remind him now and then, as they grew older, of the inn where they had loitered on a sunny holiday as guests of the same house party. P THEIR hostess had not staged her party in Rumania, with its sun-bright days and star- strewn nights, David might have gone on lov- . But there no saffron moon that tumbled en of a perilous sea. No roads that a man and maiden. could dance lightly to the sob of a and wail of a saxophone with a strong arm around her waist. But she never gave herself to the winds while she whirled faster ‘and faster, or slower and slower, in a green watched. It was madness, David knew. He must get over it. He must not meet the girl again. But always when he made that resolve he ran the more quickly to the trysting place. Once, when he would not let himself go, he saw her elfin face laughing at the window. He had not thought that he would be satis- fruits that gave wine-fragrance to the “The gypsy girl who brings the vegetables has her eyes on you, Stanton,” one of the men of the party had teased him at lunch the day jest. “Just because she’s winning the beauty count doesn’t mean that she’s slipping in the guicksand along with the other roving ladies. She might teach the rest of us a thing or two.” “David always does champion the poor and oppressed,” Webber Burns laughed. “Does she make good copy for the stories you're trying to write, old man?” “She doesn’t belong on paper. She’s too alive and brilliant.” He changed the conversation abruptly. “Want te take a walk, Catherine?” “A walk? In this deluge? I'd be drenched. The whole sky's falling in. We're going to play bridge this afternoon, David, darling. A tenth of a cent a point.” *“p gcing to take & walk,” he answered. *Then you'll do an errand for me, won't you, honey?” She slipped a ring from her finger; the ring that he had given her. For a second the blue- green stone caught the witchery of hidden caves at the ocean’s depth and flaunted them wickedly. “The stone is a little loose. Will you ask the man in the bead shop to fix it? I'm afraid that something might happen to it. I can't leave it in my room. Things are disappear- - THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, B, €, MAY “So you would lie to protect @ Gypsy?” she asked. “You could have saved her without that stunt! stooped to find it. ing and they say the gypsies are doing the stealing.” “One of the guests lost a valuable pearl brooch,” another girl contributed. “She saw a queer Jooking old woman from the camp on her floor that morning, but of course the crea- ture got away. Gypsies are sly. “They're stealing from the farmers. Food and clothing. The next thief is to be hung as an example, just like we do it ourselves back in the part of the dear old States.” “Hung?” David asked, puzzled. , “Sure. Lassoed and pulled to the top of tree as a lesson on private property rights. They do queer things over here,” a man answered. “Don’t leave the ring” Catherine warned. “Stay with it while it's being repaired. It won’t take a minute. My hand is lost without it. I adore emeralds and at the rate your stories are selling it will be & span of years béfore I can have another. Oh, forgive me, dear, of course I didn’t mean that, but you know that editors are hard to reach.” I'm through!” HEmcrdynodded. He had scrimped a little too much for that ring. He didn’t like For her he would have preferred a diamond solitaire in emeralds anyway. Not on Catherine. a platinum circlet. She was too much like other girls to have a different ring. Outside the hotel the gray water was falling into a gray sea and the road that wound up the hills beyond the town was washed white by the steady downpour. Maybe the storm would wash the hot clutter of seething torment from his brain. Would leave it cool and calm. She tossed the ring at him . . . no one He started up the hill, Up and up and up. Higher than he had ever climbed. Suddenly he remembered that it was in this direction that the gypsy always vanished. When he thought of her there was the sheen of her blue-black hair catching at his fancies again, and the troublesome odor of & 1 rous perfume to make him drowsy, although the rain came harder. He wasn't surprised when she suddenly ap- peared before him. “Come.” She held out a hand. and shelter.” He nodded and followed her. Fire and shelter. Mm¢mm And the gypsy girl. The gods were And down in the valley Catherine bid three spades and made a little slam. The gypsy paused at & cabin and threw the door wide. The fire sparkled on the hearth. There were books along the wall . . . cush- ions on the floor . . . candles that had grown low and plump from lighting many gloamings « » » & tea table set with coral linen and black cups and saucers. b D “Come. Get dry,” she said. “Who are you?” He asked the words fiercely. “Then you aren't a gypsy? You've been playing with me.” “What were you doing with me?” Her words came drifting to him as though they sang their way through a forest far, far off. He reached for her, but she slipped away with the nimble grace that his own tall, strong body could not equal. : Her voice came back again. “I have a fire BY HELEN ~ WELSHIMER My mother But my father wasn't. He taught me the wo that come in books . . . he took me with i - 19 E§ Now she dropped on a cushion at the eet. “I have the gypsy skin and the sun has ki I know civilization, too. Not until he heard Catherine’s voice did remember the emerald. “Is my ring ready?” she asked. “My lud was good today, but the stone always makes better.” “It won't be done until tomorrow,” he swered quietly. “But it's safe. Perfectly s IM get it for you.” How he would do it he didn't know. David wanted to get away. He must be hot orable. He could have forgotten a gypsy. B 8 gypsy who knew both worlds was différen Webber rushed from the hotel as he neared “What's up?” David asked. to hang a gypsy!” ¥ -~ “A gypsy?” “For stealing. We have to get it stopped. It the girl who brought the vegetables. They were going to hang a gypsy n . . . his gypsy maiden . . . to whom had given & ring. And she wasn't a really “Did she explain?” cold eyes. The Summer visitors keep the peasants from the girl. “It was my ring she had.” aware of Catherine. “But they can't kill I don’t want her hung! Why don’t they J lock her up for stealing?” He didn’t have time now to tell C: I;:lreached! - the girl, and noticed that she s , Slender, defiant with smol fires her frightened eyes and Md"th’:‘im “You gave it to her? cle that shut him in “Yes! She didn't The crowd disappeared. ] & question or two, shook their heads too kno ingly and wandered off. Only Catherine stayed. “So you would lie to protect a gypsy?” sh asked. “You could have saved her without th: g;m I'm through!” She tossed the ring , it fell in the grass and no stopped t find it. e * David knew then that Catherine had not su pected. She had believed the gypsy guilty and that he had lied to help her. It was better th way. Her own actions had swept the clean as a strong wind smoothed the beach. But he must free the girl with the green Continued on Thirteenth Page