plished. I go on my own," she turned and walked to the door of her
tent. "Alone I go to cheat the Gentiles and win my food. Take your new
queen, and with her sorrow and starvation, prison, and the kicks of the
Gorgios. So it is, as I have said, and so it shall be."

She vanished into the tent, and the older members of the tribe, shaking
their heads over the ill-omen of her concluding words, withdrew
sorrowfully to their various habitations, in order to discuss the
situation. But the young men and women bowed down before Chaldea and
forthwith elected her their ruler, fawning on her, kissing her hands and
invoking blessings on her pretty face, that face which they hoped and
believed would bring prosperity to them. And there was no doubt that of
late, under Mother Cockleshell's leadership, the tribe had been
unfortunate in many ways. It was for this reason that Chaldea had raised
the standard of rebellion, and for this reason also she gained her
triumph. To celebrate her coronation she gave Kara, who hovered
constantly at her elbow, a couple of sovereigns, and told him to buy
food and drink. In a high state of enjoyment the gypsies dispersed in
order to prepare for the forthcoming festivity, and Chaldea, weary but
victorious, stood alone by the steps of the caravan, which was her
perambulating home. Seizing her opportunity, Miss Greeby approached.

"My congratulations to your majesty," she said ironically. "I'm sorry
not to be able to stay for your coronation, which I presume takes place
to-night. But I have to go back to London to see a friend of yours."

"I have no friends, my Gentile lady," retorted Chaldea, with a fiery
spark in each eye. "And what do you here amongst the gentle Romany?"

"Gentle," Miss Greeby chuckled, "that's a new word for the row that's
been going on, my girl. Do you know me?"

"As I know the road and the tent and the art of dukkerhin. You stay at
the big house, and you love the rye who lived in the wood."

"Very clever of you to guess that," said Miss Greeby coolly, "but as it
happens, you are wrong. The rye is not for me and not for you. He
marries the lady he worships on his knees. Forgive me for speaking in
this high-flowing manner," ended Miss Greeby apologetically, "but in
romantic situations one must speak romantic words."

Chaldea did not pay attention to the greater part of this speech, as
only one statement appealed to her. "The rye shall not marry the Gentile
lady," she said betwee