take the old woman in charge when she was--so to
speak--safe in the heart of her kingdom. However, Baltic regarded the
warrant only as a means to an end, and did not intend to use it, other
than as a bogey to terrify Mother Jael into confession. He trusted more
to his religiosity and persuasive capabilities than to the power of the
law. Nevertheless, being practical as well as sentimental, he was glad
to have the warrant in case of need; for it was possible that a
heathenish witch like Mother Jael might fear man more than God. Finally,
Baltic had some experience of casting religious pearls before pagan
swine, and therefore was discreet in his use of spiritual remedies.

Dogs barked and children screeched when Baltic stepped into the circle
formed by caravans and tents; and several swart, sinewy, gipsy men
darted threatening glances at him as an intrusive stranger. There burned
a fire near one of the caravans, over which was slung a kettle, swinging
from a tripod of iron, and this was filled with some savoury stew, which
sent forth appetising odours. A dark, handsome girl, with golden
earrings, and a yellow handkerchief twisted picturesquely round her
black hair, was the cook, and she turned to face Baltic with a scowl
when he inquired for Mother Jael. Evidently the Gentiles were no
favourites in the camp of these outcasts, for the men lounging about
murmured, the women tittered and sneered, and the very children spat out
evil words in the Romany language. But Baltic, used to black skins and
black looks, was not daunted by this inhospitable reception, and in
grave tones repeated his inquiry for the sibyl.

'Who are you, juggel-mush?'[A] asked a sinister-looking Hercules.

[A] Juggel-mush: a dog-man.

'I am one who wishes to see Mother Jael,' replied Baltic, in his deep
voice.

'Arromali!'[B] sneered the Cleopatra-like cook. 'She has more to do than
to see every cheating, choring Gentile.'

[B] Arromali: truly.

'Give me money, my royal master,' croaked a frightful cripple. 'My own
little purse is empty.'

'Oh, what a handsome Gorgio!' whined a hag, interspersing her speech
with curses. '(May evil befall him!) Good luck for gold, dearie. (I spit
on your corpse, Gentile!) Charity! Charity!'

A girl seated on the steps of a caravan cracked her fingers, and
spitting three times for the evil eye, burst into a song:--

'With my kissings and caressings
I can gain gold from the Gentiles;
But to evil change my