from Chaldea!"

At that moment; as if he had summoned her, the gypsy suddenly flung open
the door and walked in with a sulky expression on her dark face. At
first she had been delighted to hear that Lambert wanted to see her, but
when informed by Mrs. Tribb that Lady Agnes was with the young man, she
had lost her temper. However, the chance of seeing Lambert was too
tempting to forego, so she marched in defiantly, ready to fight with her
rival if there was an opportunity of doing so. But the Gentile lady
declined the combat, and took no more notice of the jealous gypsy than
was absolutely necessary. On her side Chaldea ostentatiously addressed
her conversation to Lambert.

"How are you, rye?" she asked, stopping with effort in the middle of the
room, for her impulse was to rush forward and gather him to her heaving
bosom. "Have you taken drows, my precious lord?"

"What do you mean by drows, Chaldea?"

"Poison, no less. You look drabbed, for sure."

"Drabbed?"

"Poisoned. But I waste the kalo jib on you, my Gorgious. God bless you
for a sick one, say I, and that's a bad dukkerin, the which in gentle
Romany means fortune, my Gentile swell."

"Drop talking such nonsense," said Lambert sharply, and annoyed to see
how the girl ignored the presence of Lady Agnes. "I have a few questions
to ask you about a certain letter."

"Kushto bak to the rye, who showed it to the lady," said Chaldea,
tossing her head so that the golden coins jingled.

"He did not show it to me, girl," remarked Lady Agnes coldly.

"Hai! It seems that the rumy of Hearne can lie."

"I shall put you out of the house if you speak in that way," said
Lambert sternly. "Silver went to Lady Agnes and tried to blackmail her."

"He's a boro pappin, and that's Romany for a large goose, my Gorgious
rye, for I asked no gold."

"You told him to ask five thousand pounds."

"May I die in a ditch if I did!" cried Chaldea vehemently. "Touch the
gold of the raclan I would not, though I wanted bread. The tiny rye took
the letter to give to the prastramengro, and that's a policeman, my
gentleman, so that there might be trouble. But I wished no gold from
her. Romany speaking, I should like to poison her. I love you, and--"

"Have done with this nonsense, Chaldea. Talk like that and out you go.
I can see from what you admit, that you have been making mischief."

"That's as true as my father," laughed the gypsy viciously. "And glad am
I to say the word, my boro