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Updated: June 24, 2025
And this was a Romany lass, daughter of his Chieftain, as he was son of a great Romany chief; and what marvel could there be that she who had been made his child wife, should be conquered as others had been! "'Mi Duvel', but I see!" he repeated in a husky fierceness.
It was a poem in praise of marriage passion; it was a paean proclaiming the accomplishment of life. Crude, primitive, it thrilled with Eastern feeling; a weird charm was showered from its notes. "Listen!" exclaimed Jethro again, a fire burning in his face. "That's for you and me. To them you are my wife, and I am your man. 'Mi Duvel' it shall be so! I know women.
'Mi Duvel', you have taken, but you shall give back again, or there will be only one of us in the world! The music I have played for you that has told you all: the thing that was music from the beginning of Time, the will of the First of All. Fleda Druse, she was mine, she is my wife, and you, the Gorgio, come between, and she will not return to me."
It was a poem in praise of marriage passion; it was a paean proclaiming the accomplishment of life. Crude, primitive, it thrilled with Eastern feeling; a weird charm was showered from its notes. "Listen!" exclaimed Jethro again, a fire burning in his face. "That's for you and me. To them you are my wife, and I am your man. 'Mi Duvel' it shall be so! I know women.
"Listen," Jethro said with sudden lowering of the voice, and imparting into his tones an emotion which was in part an actor's gift, but also in large degree a passion now eating at his heart, "you are my wife by all the laws of our people. Nothing can change it. I have waited for you, and I will wait, but you shall be mine in the end. You see to-night 'Mi Duvel', you see that fate is with me!
And why should the raclan go free-footed when she drew her rom to be slaughtered like a pig?" "I did nothing of the sort," cried Agnes, with an angry look. "Duvel, it is true." Chaldea still addressed Lambert, and took no notice of Agnes. "I swear it on your Bible-book. I found the letter in my brother's tent, the day after he perished.
He looked at her piercingly, and the pupils of his eyes narrowed to a pin-point. "You would have shot me you are armed?" he questioned. "Am I the only woman that has armed herself against you and such as you? Do you not see?" "Mi Duvel, but I do see now with a thousand eyes!" he said hoarsely. His senses were reeling.
If you had hurt it I'd have hurt you, Mr. Fawe," Ingolby said with a grim smile. "That fiddle's got too much in it to waste it." "Mi Duvel! Mi Duvel!" gasped the Romany in his fury. "You can say that as much as you like, but if you play any more of your monkey tricks here, my Paganini, I will wring your neck," Ingolby returned, his six feet of solid flesh making a movement of menace.
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