"
"Then he has forfeited his liberty," said Tamar; "he has committed some
dreadful crime. Tell me, Oh! tell me, what is it?"
The gipsy laughed, and her laugh was a frightful one.
"What!" she said, "are you disappointed?--is the blight come over you?
has the black fog shut out all the bright visions which the foolish
Laird created in your fancy? Go, child!" she said, "go and tell him what
I have told you, and see whether he will continue to cherish and flatter
the offspring of our vagrant race."
"He will," replied Tamar; "but tell me, only tell me, what is that mark
burnt upon my shoulder?"
"Your father branded you," she answered, "as we do all our children,
lest in our many wanderings we should lose sight of our own, and not
know them again; but come," she added, "the night draws on, darkness is
stealing over the welkin; you are for the shed; there is your pole-star;
see you the fitful glare of the forge?--I am for another direction;
fare-you-well."
"Stay, stay," said Tamar, seizing her arm, "Oh, tell me more! tell me
more! My father, if I have a living father, I owe him a duty,--where is
he? Tell me where he is, for the love of heaven tell me?"
The woman shook her off,--"Go, fool," she said, "you know enough; or
stay," she added, in her turn seizing Tamar's arm,--"if you like it
better, leave those Dymocks and come with me, and you shall be one with
us, and live with us, and eat with us and drink with us.
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