ion's eyes
twinkling.

"Never you mind, Bessie," she said. "They're stupid, anyhow. And as long
as they don't tie us up we're all right. I'd just as soon be here as
anywhere. Someone will go along that trail presently looking for us, and
when they do we can shout. They'll probably make a noise themselves, so
as to let us know they are near. And I'm not frightened any more; really
I'm not."

But Bessie, tired and disappointed, was nearer to giving in than she had
been since the moment when she had awakened and found that Dolly was
missing. She felt that she ought to have distrusted Lolla; that she had
made a great mistake in thinking, even for a moment, that the gypsy girl
meant to betray her own people.

Then suddenly a strange thing happened. A new voice, that belonged to
none of the four who were in the clearing, suddenly broke the silence.
It seemed to come from a tree directly over the heads of Lolla and
Peter, and, as it spoke, they stared upward with one accord, listening
intently to what it said.

"Will you make me come down and punish you?" said the voice. It was that
of an old, old man, feeble with age, but still clear.

Bessie stared too, as surprised as the gypsy, and the voice went on:

"I gave your companion a sign last night that should have warned him. I
speak to you now, to warn you again. The next time I shall not give a
warning; I shall act, and your punishment will be swift and terrible.
Take heed; go, while there is time."

For a moment the two gypsies were speechless, looking at one another in
wonder, and Bessie was not disposed to blame them. Her own head was in a
whirl.

"Quick; it is in that tree!" said Lolla, easily the braver of the two of
them. "Climb up there, and see who it is that is trying to frighten us,
Peter."

But Peter was not prepared to do anything of the sort. He was trembling,
and casting nervous glances behind him, as if he were more minded to
make a break and run down the trail.

"Climb yourself! I shall stay here," he retorted.

And Lolla, without further hesitation, sprang into the branches of the
tree and began to climb.

As she did so the mysterious voice sounded again.

"You cannot see me, yet," it said. "You can only hear me. See, my voice
is in your ears, but you cannot see as much as my little finger. Beware;
go before you _do_ see me. For when you do, you will regret it; regret
it as long as you live!"

When Lolla, a moment later, reached firm ground