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Updated: May 6, 2025
Then it was that Will, glancing out upon the Moor, observed a string of gypsy folk making slow progress towards Chagford. Among the various Romany cavalcades which thus passed Newtake in summer time this appeared not the least strange. Two ordinary caravans headed the procession. A man conducted each, a naked-footed child or two trotted beside them, and an elder boy led along three goats.
He repeated the last two lines into a rising note of exultation: "His soul might burn, but her lips were his, And the heart of his Romany chi." The key suddenly turned in the lock, the door opened on the last words of the refrain, and, without hesitation, Fleda stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
There, in the hours between the midnight and the dawn, all Gabriel Druse's personal belongings the clothes, the chair in which he sat, the table at which he ate, the bed in which he slept, were brought forth and made into a pyre, as was the Romany way. Nothing personal of his chattels remained behind.
"She shall be punished," he said, "but first she shall hear, before you all, that I love her and that I know she has not lost the spirit of our love. Her fault was born of lightness of heart and vanity, not of evil." "What is her fault? Name it," commanded Aunty Lee. George Lane looked over at Jan. "Her fault is that she trusted a gorgio to understand the ways of a Romany.
"I don't know," she answered quietly. "I have heard things, but I should like to learn the truth from you. What are your plans?" Her eyes were burning with inquiry. She was suddenly brought to the gateways of a new world. Plans what had she or her people to do with plans! What Romany ever constructed anything?
Fleda Druse would be a queen of queens, but there was that queenliness in her now which was not Romany something which was Gorgio, which was caste, which made a shivering distance between them. As he had spoken, she saw it all as he described it. Vaguely, cloudily, the scene passed before her.
The invocation that no patrins shall mark the road of a Romany is to make him an outcast, and for the Ry of Rys to utter the curse is sentence of death upon a Romany, for thenceforward every hand of his race is against him, free to do him harm. It was that which made Jethro Fawe shrink and cower for a moment. Fleda raised her hand suddenly in protest to Gabriel Druse.
"There's no time to say more," interrupted Mother Cockleshell rudely, for, having secured her money, she did not think it worth while to be polite, especially in the face of her visitor's scepticism. "One of our tribe aye, and he's a great Romany for sure is coming to camp with us.
"Why, not exactly, Jasper; the cuckoo is a pleasant, funny bird, and its presence and voice give a great charm to the green trees and fields; no, I can't say I wish exactly to get rid of the cuckoo." "Well, brother, what's a Romany chal?" "You must answer that question yourself, Jasper." "A roguish, chaffing fellow, a'n't he, brother?" "Ay, ay, Jasper." "Of no use at all, brother?"
He was, as the "Old Radical" of "The Romany Rye," Borrow's victim in his lifetime, and after his death the victim of Dr. Knapp as the supposed false friend of his hero. The mud thrown at him had long since dried, and has now been brushed off in a satisfactory manner by Mr. R. A. J. Walling. When Borrow was in his nineteenth year according to Dr.
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