Free The Return of the Gypsy by Philippa Carr

enemy, they called them, although they had no personal quarrel. This man had killed another who would have harmed a young girl. He was protecting the innocent against the wicked. He had been right to use whatever methods were necessary to save the girl. I was on his side. I had a feeling that no matter what he had done I should have been.
    “You should be out of this house before the morning,” I said.
    He nodded. “After dark, I shall go down to the shore and find that boathouse. Perhaps I could take the boat along the coast and find a ship going somewhere …”
    “You should go round to Ramsgate or Harwich. There you might get to Holland. Do you have any money?”
    “Tenfold brought me money with the horse.”
    “It would have been better if you had made for the east coast.”
    “I could not choose my way. I was being hunted.”
    “If you went abroad, it would mean you would never come back.”
    “These things are forgotten with the years. Tell me, when will the baby come?”
    “Very soon now.”
    “And Dolly, how is she?”
    “Very happy. She wants the baby desperately. I think if you came back, she would be perfectly happy.”
    “What a neat little ending that would be to a midnight frolic round a bonfire.”
    “Is that what it was to you?”
    He was silent. Then he said: “Please don’t think too badly of me. You were there, weren’t you. Do you remember?”
    “Yes, I do remember.”
    “Sitting in the carriage with your parents. I went on thinking of you…”
    Neither of us spoke for some time. I was thinking of him in a cart, being taken to some place, and the crowd looking on while they strung him up by his neck. I had never witnessed a public hanging, but one of the servants had. She had come from London and seen it at Tyburn. She had given a graphic description.
    That must not be the fate of Romany Jake.
    I turned to him impulsively. “You must get away from here as soon as it is dark. I’ll bring you some food. Go to the east coast…”
    “There is food here in the pantries. I was sure Dolly would not grudge me that. Where is the old lady? Has she gone with Dolly?”
    “She died. She was horrified because Dolly was going to have a baby. She went out into the snow and was out all night. It killed her.”
    He put his hand to his head. “So that is something else I have to answer for.”
    “We all have to answer for all sorts of things.”
    “How wise you are and how lucky I am to have your friendship. It is an unusual story. The lady of the manor befriending a poor gypsy who is running from the law.”
    “There have been stranger stories. There is that one you sing about the lady who left home to join the gypsies.”
    “You have not gone so far as that!”
    The hall was suddenly illuminated by lightning which was immediately followed by a clap of thunder.
    “I thought that one was for us,” he said.
    “As soon as the storm is over I must go back. They’ll be wondering where I am.”
    “They wouldn’t expect you to be walking through the storm.”
    “No.”
    “So we are safe for a little while.”
    “Tell me about the gypsies,” I said. “It seems such a strange life for a man like you.”
    “I’ll tell you a secret. I’m not a gypsy, born and bred. I joined them two years ago because I wanted a life on the open road. I had never liked the restricted life. I wanted my freedom. I could have had an easy life… slept in my goose-feather bed … sat down at table and feasted like a lord. This is the story over again. This is not the lady who left her home to follow the gypsies; but the man who left the family home to join them.”
    “Why did you do that?”
    “I quarrelled with my brother. He is fifteen years older than I. As our parents were dead he was in a sense my guardian—and I was a rebel. I ran away from school; I consorted with the menials on the estate. I made their grievances my concern; and after a serious family quarrel I realized that I did not want to go on