I've had my friends among them, too. I've got the hang of
it all. It's no good to me, and I don't want it. It's all part of a set
piece. There's no independence in that life; you live by rule. Diable!
I know. I've been in palaces; I've played my fiddle to the women in high
places who can't blush. It's no good; it brings nothing in the end. It's
all hollow. Look at our people there." He swept a hand to the tent door.

"They're tanned and rough, as all out-door things are rough, but they've
got their share of happiness, and every day has its pleasures. Listen to
them!" he cried with a gesture of exultation. "Listen to that!"

The colour slowly left Fleda's face. Outside in the light of the dying
fires, under the glittering stars, in the shade of the trees, groups of
Romanys were singing the Romany wedding melody, called "The Song of the
Sealing." It was not like the ringing of wedding bells alone, it sealed
blessing upon the man and the woman. It was a poem in praise of marriage
passion; it was a paean proclaiming the accomplishment of life. Crude,
primitive, it thrilled with Eastern feeling; a weird charm was showered
from its notes.

"Listen!" exclaimed Jethro again, a fire burning in his face. "That's
for you and me. To them you are my wife, and I am your man. 'Mi
Duvel'--it shall be so! I know women. For an hour you will hate me; for
a day you will resent me, and then you will begin to love me. You will
fight me, but I will conquer. I know you--I know you--all you women. But
no, it will not be I that will conquer. It's my love that will do it.
It's a den of tigers. When it breaks loose it will have its way. Here
it is. Can't you see it in my face? Can't you hear it in my voice? Don't
you hear my heart beating? Every throb says, 'Fleda--Fleda--Fleda, come
to me.' I have loved you since you were three. I want you now. We can be
happy. Every night we will make a new home. The world will be ours;
the best that is in it will come to us. We will tap the trees of
happiness--they're hid from the Gorgio world. You and I will know where
to find them. Every land shall be ours; every gift of paradise within
our reach--riches, power, children. Come back to your own people; be
a true daughter of the Ry of Rys; live with your Romany chal. You will
never be at home anywhere else. It's in your bones; it's in your blood;
it's deeper than all. Here, now, come to me--my wife."

He flung the flap of the tent door across the opening, shu