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Updated: July 23, 2025
They cheered her, for they saw before them a young heroine, victorious, beloved, ideal. But when Myra called at Hester Street, a week later, Rhona's mother had something else to say. "Rhona? Well, you had ought to seen her when we first landed! Ah! she was a beauty, my Rhona such cheeks, such hair, such eyes laughing all the time. But now ach!" She sighed dreadfully. "So it goes.
Some of them are ex-convicts and thugs. They are a rough lot." "But why is it allowed?" asked Myra. Rhona laughed. "Why is anything allowed?" The wind seemed to grow more and more cruel. Myra felt her ear-lobes swelling, the tip of her nose tingled and her feet and hands were numb. But they held on quietly in the darkening day. It all seemed simple enough this walking up and down.
Tell her that they expect you and her at the inn at Llanberis. Rhona will be there to-night with Winnie's clo'es and things. 'Sinfi, I said, 'I cannot part from you thus. I should be miserable all my days. No man ever had such a noble, self-sacrificing friend as you. I cannot give you up.
Then came a something in the girl's eyes the like of which I had seen in no other Gypsy's eyes, though I had known well the Gypsies who used to camp near Rington Manor, not far from Raxton, for my kinsman Percy Aylwin, the poet, had lately fallen in love with Winnie's early friend, Rhona Boswell. It was not exactly an 'uncanny' expression, yet it suggested a world quite other than this.
The next afternoon she was scrubbing down the long corridor between the cells when the matron came, jangling her keys. "Some one here for you," said the matron. Rhona leaped up. "My mother?" she cried out, in a piercing voice. "See here," said the matron, "you want to go easy and only five minutes, mind you." "My mother?" Rhona repeated, her heart near to bursting. "No some one else. Come along."
"Fannie, you go right home, and let your mother give you a good drink of hot lemonade with whiskey in it. And take a foot-bath, too." Fannie coughed again. "Don't you tell me, Rhona. Look out for yourself. There gets trouble yet on this street." Myra drew nearer, a dull feeling in her breast. Rhona spoke easily: "None of the men said anything or did anything, did they?"
Will you take the old Jewish oath?" up went two thousand hands, with one great chorus: "If I turn traitor to the cause I now pledge, may this hand wither from the arm I now raise." By this oath Rhona was bound.
While our guests, Romany and Gorgio, were doing justice to the trout, Welsh brown bread and butter and jam which Videy had spread before them, Sinfi went to the back of the camp to look at the ponies, and I got into conversation with Rhona Boswell, whom I remembered so well as a child. At first she was shy and embarrassed, doubtful, as I perceived, whether or not she ought to talk about Winnie.
After Panuel had received me in his usual friendly manner, we all sat down, partly inside the tent and partly outside, around the white table-cloth that had been spread upon the grass. The Scollard took no note of me; he had no eyes for any one but Rhona Boswell. When tea was over Sinfi left the camp, and strode across the Dell towards the river. I followed her.
Then Joe spoke in a low voice to the gate-keeper, the gate opened, and they entered in. Rhona had spent the evening in the women's cell, which was one of three in a row. The other two were for men. The window was high up, and a narrow bench ran around the walls. Sprawled on this were from thirty to forty women; the air was nauseating, and the place smelled to heaven.
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