There was something almost supernatural, it seemed to him, in the
brilliancy of those eyes.
He laughed at himself for his folly in the next instant. What was this
woman but a vulgar impostor, who was doubtless trying to trade upon his
fears in some manner or other?
"You have come here to give some kind of warning, then?" he said, after
a few moments of consideration.
"I have--a warning which may save your life--if you hear me patiently,
and obey when you have heard."
"That is the cant of your class, my good woman; and you can scarcely
expect me to listen to that kind of thing. If you come here to me,
hoping to delude me by the language with which you tell the country
people their fortunes at fairs and races, the sooner you go away the
better. I am ready to listen to you patiently: if you need help, I am
ready to give it you; but it is time and labour lost to practise gipsy
jargon upon me."
"I need no help from you," cried the gipsy woman, scornfully; "I tell
you again, I come here to serve you."
"In what manner can you serve me? Speak out, and speak quickly!" said
Lionel; "I must return to my guests almost immediately."
"Your guests!" cried the gipsy, with a mocking laugh; "pleasant guests
to gather round your hearth at this holy festival-time. Sir Reginald
Eversleigh is amongst them, I suppose?"
"He is. You know his name very well, it seems.
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