was fastened to the stake and the flames leaped about her. All
heard and many treasured up those words, and hence the tradition
always in men's mouths that the treasure of Trevlyn was filched by
the gipsy folks in fulfilment of that curse. But now another word.
My grandam laid another charge upon the tribe and all who claimed
kindred with her; and that charge was that all should give loving
and watchful care and tender service to the house of Wyvern; that
all bearing that name should be the especial care of the
gipsies--they and their children after them, whether bearing the
old name or not. The Wyverns had been true friends to the gipsy
folk, had protected them in many an hour of peril, had spoken them
gently and kindly when all men else spoke ill of them, had given
them food and shelter and a place to live in; and to my grandam had
given a home and sanctuary one bitter winter's night, when, pursued
by foes who strove then to get her into their hands and do her to
death, she flung herself upon their charity, and received a welcome
and a home in her hour of peril and sore need. It was beneath the
roof of the Wyverns that Esther first saw the light; and in
gratitude for their many acts of charity and kindness my grandam,
ere she died, laid instructions on all who owned her sway that the
Wyverns and all descended from them should be sacred to the
gipsies--watched over and guarded from all ill."

"Ah!" said Cuthbert, drawing a long breath; "and shortly after that
a Wyvern wedded with this same Sir Richard."

"Ay, and that but just one short month before his house was to have
been burned about his head, and he himself slain had he come forth
alive. All the plans were laid, and it was to be done so soon as he
should return to the Chase after long absence. Long Robin had
planned it all, and he had a head as clever and a will as firm as
any man that ever lived. He had thought of all--he had everything
in order; and then came the news that the knight had wed with
Isabel Wyvern, the tenderest, the sweetest, the gentlest maiden
that ever drew breath; and when they knew that, even Long Robin
knew that no hand could thenceforward be raised against the
knight."

"Long Robin--who is he?" questioned Cuthbert eagerly.

"He is Miriam's husband--my father," answered Joanna, a strange
shadow passing across her face.

"And does he yet live?"

The gipsy paused and hesitated.

"Ask any other member of the tribe, and they will tell