“No, brother.  He goes to Lundra to get the gold.  Did I not play my fish in fine style?”

“I took it for truth, sister!” said Kara, looking at her searchingly.

Chaldea nodded wearily.  “I am a great witch, as you can see.”

“You will be my romi when the gold chinks in our pockets?”

“Yes, for certain, brother.  It’s a true fortune!”

“Before our camp is changed, sister?” persisted the man greedily.

“No; for to-morrow we may take the road, since the great lord orders us off his land.  And yet—­” Chaldea stood up, suddenly recollecting what had been said by Pine’s wife.  “Why should we leave?”

“The rabbit can’t kick dust in the fox’s face, sister,” said Kara, meaning that Garvington was too strong for the gypsies.

“There are rabbits and rabbits,” said Chaldea sententiously.  “Where is Hearne, brother?”

“In Gentilla’s tent with a Gorgious gentleman.  He’s trading a horse with the swell rye, and wants no meddling with his time, sister.”

“I meddle now,” snapped Chaldea, and walked away in her usual free and graceful manner.  Kara shrugged his shoulders and then took refuge in talking to his violin, to which he related his doubts of the girl’s truth.  And he smiled grimly, as he thought of the recovered knife which was again snugly hidden under his weather-worn green coat.

Chaldea, who did not stand on ceremony, walked to the end of the camp without paying any attention to the excited gypsies, and flung back the flap of the old woman’s tent.  Mother Cockleshell was not within, as she had given the use of her abode to Pine and his visitor.  This latter was a small, neat man with a smooth, boyish face and reddish hair.  He had the innocent expression of a fox-terrier, and rather resembled one.  He was neatly and inoffensively dressed in blue serge, and although he did not look exactly like a gentleman, he would have passed for one in a crowd.  When Chaldea made her abrupt entrance he was talking volubly to Pine, and the millionaire addressed him—­when he answered—­as Silver.  Chaldea, remembering the conversation she had overheard between Pine and Miss Greeby, speedily reached the conclusion that the neat little man was the secretary referred to therein.  Probably he had come to report about Lady Agnes.

“What is it, sister?” demanded Pine sharply, and making a sign that Silver should stop talking.

“Does the camp travel to-morrow, brother?”

“Perhaps, yes,” retorted Pine abruptly.

“And perhaps no, brother, if you use your power.”

Silver raised his faint eyebrows and looked questioningly at his employer, as if to ask what this cryptic sentence meant.  Pine knew only too well, since Chaldea had impressed him thoroughly with the fact that she had overheard many of his secrets.  Therefore he did not waste time in argument, but nodded quietly.  “Sleep in peace, sister.  The camp shall stay, if you wish it.”