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Gavin remarked the bands particularly, for one of them wa thrust into the bos om of a spotlessly white and clinging shirtand that band, he said, covered the hilt of a gipsy knife. So it was to be a hazardous eneoonter after all. He understood too well that if he moved so mneh as a foot, this gipsy would stab him. "Why do you wateh us, sir!" The English was execrable but the meaning quite plain. Gavin answered as abruptly: I am listening to your music, The gipsy, utterly lost his at tempts to continue in a tongue of which he knew so little, stammered for an instant and then asked curtly: "Do you speak German, sir!'' "Possibly as well as you do I have been three years in that excellent coun- try." "Please to tell me who you are, then, and why you eome to his excellency'9 house?' Gavin laughed at" the impertinence of it. Speaking in fluent German^ he said: %-& I might very well put that question to you. Shall I say, then, that I am not here to answer your questions. Come, we- had better be frank with each other. I may be able to help you." This was a new idea to the gipsy and one that caused him some perplexi ty. A kttle reflection convinced him that the stranger was right. "Very.well," he said, 'we will talk about it*" Come to my tent and Djala shall make us coffee. Why not be friends Yes, we might help each other, as you say. Let us talk first and then we can quarrel.'* He lejiNthe WJJ: tiro a |taith of the delL powd*ring'4fl ground* with the golden aUsirof WJ&I flowers as Tie went. The encampment had been enlarged considerably since Evelyn discovered it on the gipsies first coming to More town. There were no less than seven tents and the biggest of these, the one to which Gavurs guide now con ducted him, had been lurnished with lavish generosity. Old silver lamps from the hall cast a warm, soft light upon the couches and rugs about there were old tapestries hung against the canvas tables glittering with silver or naments a buffet laden with bottles and silver boxes. But the chief orna ment was Djala, a little Hungarian girL and such a perfect picture of wild beauty that Gavin stared at her amazed. "Here is Djala," the guide said, with a gesture of his hand toward her. I am known as Zallony's son. His ex cellency may have spoken of me." S'l know nothing," said Gavin sim ply. "Permit me to tell the young 'lady that she has a charming voice. I have never heard music that fas cinated me so much." "It is the music of a nation of mu sicians, sir. Please to sit down. Djala will serve us eigarets and coffee." The girl laughed pleasantly, show ing a row of shining white teeth and evidently understanding,that a compli ment had been paid her by the stran ger. When she had served, the coffee and eigarets. she xaaf away with a coquette's step and. ttfeV heard her singing outside to the soft accompani ment of a zither. Zallony's son smoked meanwhile with the contemplative silence of the oriental and Gavin, wait ing for him, would not be the first to break the truee. "So you have been in Germany, sirt" I was there three years," said Gavin. "You know Bukharest, it may bet" "Not at all, tho a lady's book was on the point of sending me to the Car pathians." earliest opportunity." "Make friends with my people and they will be your friends. We never forget, sir. That is why I am here in this ^English country, because we never forget." "The best of qualities. They tell me that your father was his excellency's friend in Rumania many years ago." The gipsy looked at him question ingiy. "It is as you Say, sir.r They~were brothers of the Mils. 4 When the houses burned and the women, ran from the soldiers, then men said it is ZaDony and the English ford. There was an other with th-sm. He is in prison now he who was my father's* friend. Sir, I come to England to give him liber- ty." Gavin was greatly interested. He drained the little cup of coffee, and, filling a pipe slowly, he said: "What forbids your successt" Zallony's son looked him Straight in the face. A lady known to usshe may for bid it, sir.?' "You cannot mean the Lady Eve- lyn?" "We will not speak of names. You have her confidence. Say to her that when she is false to my friend, Count Odin, I will kill her." "Bat that is nonsense. What has she to do with it? Your affair is with the earl, her father. Why do yon .speak of her?" "Because there is only one door by which my father's friend can win. hur liberty. Let Georges Odin's son marry an Englishwoman and my government will release him."- i That, is your view. Do*you forget ^his eatcellenoy^'s "influence? Why should i he not petition the governmefct at Buk harest for this jnanV liberty." "Because, in that case, his own life would be in danger. We are a people that never forgets. I have told you so. If Georges OdSi were at liberty, he would cross the world to find his enemy. That is "our nature. We love and hate as, an eastern people should. The man who does us a wrong must repay, who ever he is. It would be different if the young count had an English wife. That is why I wish it." Gavin smiled almost imperceptibly. "It is quite clear that you know little of England," he said. "This language suite your own country very well. Permit me to sa,y that it is ridic ulous in ours. If Lord Melbourne had any hand in your friend's imprison ment, which I doubt, he is hardly likely to be influenced by threats. I should say that you are going the wrong wav to work. As to the Lady Evelyn, 1 will tell you that she will never be the wife of one of your eountrymen. If you ask a reason, it is a personal one, and before you now. She is going to marry me. "It is just as well that we should understand as much at once." The gypsy heard the news as one who had expected to hear it. He smoked for a httle while in silence. Then he said: I appreciate the courtesy of your admission. That which I thought it necessary to tell you at first, I must repeat this lady is the' be trothed of my friend, Count Odin. I remain in England as the guardian of his honor. If you are wise, you will leave the house without further warn ing. My friend is absent, and until he is nere I must speak for him. We do not know you and wish you no harm. Let this-affair end as it began. You would be foolish to do otherwise." Gavin heard the threat without any sign of resentment whatever. ''You are talking the language of the Carpathians, not of London," he said, with a new note of determination in his tone. I will answer you in my Eng lish way. I have asked Lady Evelyn to marry me, and She will do so before the year is out. That is final. For the rest, I remind you again that you are not in Bukharest." He rose, laughing, and offered his hand. "Good night," he said. "They will be anxious about me at the castle." It was the gipsy's turn to smile. \'I have dealt fairly with you," he said "for that which is now to come, do not blame me when it comes." "Too late is often never," replied Gavin lightly and with that he left him. The gipsy girl, Djala, had ceased to sing as he quitted the tent and the rest of the encampment was in darkness. But as he crossed the home park, a burly figure upon a black horse loomed up suddenly from the shadows and there was still moonlight enough for him to recognize the earl. "He is going to his gipsy friends," Gavin said to himself. "Then he knows thaf this brigand's son has spoken to meah, I wonder!" THE MINNEAPOLI S JOURNAL. FICTION SUPPLEMENT. THE LADY EVELYN Br MAX PEMBERTON. [Svnth Installment] [Copyright x9o6 by Max Pemberton. All Rights Reserved.] S CHAPTEB x|Vl| A Spy from Bukharest. It is an English characteristic tO^ deride the European code of social ethics and especially those fine heroics which attended the vindication of what MINNEAPOLIS, MINN., THURSDAY, JULY 26, 1906. *r is so often miscalled "honor." What ever else Gavin Ord lacked, sound com mon sense he had abundantly and that came to his aid when he returned from the gipsy's tent to the manor and de bated the odd interview which he had so abruptly terminated. These men, he said, were mere bravadoes but they might be dangerous none the less. Of Count Odin he knew nothing but his antipathy to all counts was inerad icable, and he had come to number them together as so many impostors, valiants and bankrupts. This habit of thinking first led him to the supposi tion that Lord Melbourne, his host, had been the victim of a little band of swindlers and was about to be black mailed by them as few even of the most unfortunate degenerates are black mailed, even in this age of accom plished roguery. "It is a hundred to one old Georges Odin is dead," he argued "this son of his got the story somehow and came over here to make what he could by it. The earl has lost his nerve, and his love for Evelyn is betraying him into cowardice. I shall see him and tell him the truth. If they fire off pistols at me, I must take my luck in my hand. There may be a deeper storyif so, I shall find it out when the time comes. I am now to act for Evelyn's sake and think of no consequences which do not concern her. Very well, I will begin tomorrow and the earl is my first step. He shall hear everything. When he has done so, I shall know what to do." He slept upon this, but it was a broken sleep whose interludes found him sitting up in bed listening for any sounds in the house, and repeating in spite of himself the gipsy threats. He could not forget that some one had watched him in his sleep when first he came to Melbourne Hall and this un forgotten figure his imagination showed to him again, telling him that it crossed the room with cat-hke steps or breathed upon his face whenever his eyes were closed. His natural courage made noth ing of the darkness but the suggestion of unknown and undisclosed danger be came intolerable as the night advanced and at the very first call of dawn, he drew the curtains back and waited with a child's longing for the day. When this at length broke above the night's mists floating up from the river, Gavin rose and put on his dressing-gown, be ing quite sure that sleep had, for the time being, deserted him. True, his odd hallucination that some one was in the room with him no longer troubled him hut certain facts disquieted him none the less and of these, the belief that his wallet and his papers had been ransacked during the night was not the least alarming. He felt sure that he could not be mistaken. A man of method, he remembered clearly how he had placed his papers and in what order he had left them. Whoever had played the spy's part had done so clum sily, forgetting to reclasp the wallet and leaving the dressing-table in some disorder. This troubled Gavin less than the knowledge, that some one had, after all, watched him while he slept and that his dream bad not deceived him. "They take me for a spy from Bukharest," he said and he could laugh at the delusion. It would have been about 5 o'clock of the morning by this time a glor ious hour, full of the sweet breath of day and of that sense of life and be ing which is the daydawn's gift. Gav in knew little of the habits of grooms, save that they were the people who were supposed to rise with the sun but when an hour had passed he went out impatiently to the stables, and there the exeellert William found him a "rare onld divil of a boss" and one that "came just short of winnin' the National, to be sure he did." This raw boned cantankerous brute carried him at a sound gallop twice round the home park- and, greatly refreshed, he re turned to the hall and asked the apolo getic Griggs if the earl were yet down. The answer that "his lordship was awaiting him in the long gallery hardly surprised him. He felt sure that the recognition last night had been mu tual. "Zallony's son has told him," he said "very well, I will go and ask him to give me Evelyn." The earl sat at a little table placed in one of the embrasures of the gal lery. He had aged greatly these last few weeks, and there were lines upon his face that had not been there when Gavin first came to Moretown. A close observer would have said that the habit of sleep had long deserted Ion *c% him. This his eyes betrayed, being glassy in their abstracted gaze and rarely resting upon any object as tho to observe it for more than an instant. When Gavin entered, a tremulous hand indicated a ehair drawn up near by the table. The earl was the first to speak and he did so with averted gaze and in a loud voice which failed, to conceal the hesitation of his words. I hear of your unfortunate acci dent for the first time, Mr. Ord," he said slowly. "Let me implore you to run no more risks of the kind. The belfry tower is too old to write new histories.'' Gavin replied with an immediate ad mission of that which he owed to Eve lyn's bravery. "But for your daughter, my lord," he said, I should not be here this morning to speak to you of very grave things. Please do not think me insen sible of your kindness to mention that at once. I have asked Lady Evelyn to be my wife and she has given her consent. Naturally I tell you of this upon the first possible occasion. You know something of my story, or you would not have paid me the compli ment of asking me here. I have an assured ineome of some two thousand a year, and, with your friendship, I should double it in as many years. That is a vulgar statement, but neces sary. My father was Lord Justice Ord, as you possibly knew my dear moth er is the daughter of Sir Francis Wia nington of Audley Court, Suffolk. These things, I know, must be talked about at such times, so please bear with me. I am sure that Evelyn would wish me to continue in the profession I have chosen and, with your consent, I shall doeo There is nothing else I can tell if it is not to say how very deeply love your daughter and. that*! be lieve her love for me is "hoi less.'^ The earl heard him without remark. When he had finished he made no im mediate response, seeming to lack words rather than decision. "Mr. Ord," he said atlength, "you had every right to speak to Evelyn. I niake no complaint of it. But she can not be your wife, for if she is not al ready the betrothed of another, there is at least an honorable understanding that she will make no marriage until he has been heard again. This affair must begin and end today. If I am no longer able to ask yotf to remain mV guest here, you will understand my dif ficulty. I cannot answer you in any other way. For your sake I wish in deed that I could." Gavin had fully expeeted this but it did not disconcert him In any way. The battle which he must wage for Evelyn's sake had but begun. Set tling himself in his ehait And looking the earl full in his face, he said: "Does Lady Evelyn know of this, my lord? Is this the answer she wishes you to give me?" "In no sense. But I speak as one who consults her interests before all things." Gavin smiled perceptibly. Jilind r- Forgive me, Lord Melbourne, he said "but all this is so very character istic of youT house and its history. A hundred years ago it would have sounded well enough^ and I should have called a coach obediently as any gen tleman of those days would have felt obliged to do. But we live in the twen tieth century, my lord, when men and women have learned the meaning of the word liberty when the de sires and sehemes of other people" "Schemes, Mr. Ord "No other word is possible. You do not desire the marriage for purely self ish reasons. I am not impertinent enough to" inquire into them, but Eve lyn has told me something, and the rest I deduce from the answer you have iust given me. To save yourself,-my lord, you would marry -your daughter to a scoundrel, who is known for such in his own country and ours and. when you did iVsome false logic would try to tell you that it was for the sake-of your home and *ame while all the time it is done to save you some incon venience, some penalty you should in 'ustice pay to the 'past. I am nottso that I cannot see the things which are happening all around .me. Svelvn 's eonsent to my proposal gives me this right to speak plainly to you, in her interest and my own. Would you not be wiser, my lord, to deal with me as I am dealing with youto tell me in a word why this stranger can coerce you when an Englishman is answered in a word? I think that you would. I think it would be well if you said.