80 The Little Minister

“My poor girl —”

He stopped. Was she crying? Was she not
laughing at him rather? He became red.

The gypsy peeped at him between her fingers,
and saw that he was of two minds. She let her
hands fall from her face, and undoubtedly there
were tears on her cheeks.

“If you’re no angry wi’ me,” she said, sadly,
“how will you no look at me?”

“ T am looking at you now.”

He was very close to her, and staring into her
wonderful eyes. I am older than the captain,
and those eyes have dazzled me.

“‘ Captain dear.”

She put her handinhis. His chest rose. He
knew she was seeking to beguile him, but he could
not take his eyes off hers. He was in a worse
plight than a woman listening to the first whisper
of love.

Now she was further from him, but the spell
held. She reached the door, without taking her
eyes from his face. For several seconds he had
been as a man mesmerised.

Just in time he came to. It was when she
turned from him to find the handle of the door.
She was turning it when his hand fell on hers so
suddenly that she screamed. He twisted her
round. :

“Sit down there,” he said, hoarsely, pointing to
the chair upon which he had flung his cloak. She
dared not disobey. Then he leant against the
door, his back to her, for just then he wanted no
one to see his face. The gypsy sat very still and
a little frightened.