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Updated: June 23, 2025
Listen to them!" he cried with a gesture of exultation. "Listen to that!" The colour slowly left Fleda's face. Outside in the light of the dying fires, under the glittering stars, in the shade of the trees, groups of Romanys were singing the Romany wedding melody, called "The Song of the Sealing." It was not like the ringing of wedding bells alone, it sealed blessing upon the man and the woman.
He had ever been too high-placed among his own people to trade and barter horses except when, sending a score of Romanys on a hunt for wild ponies on the hills of Eastern Europe, he had afterwards sold the tamed herd to the highest bidders in some Balkan town; but he had an infallible eye for a horse.
My father spoke, but he can withdraw his word," she urged. Suddenly the old Gipsy's face hardened. A look of dark resolve and iron force came into it. "The Ry will not withdraw. He has spoken, and it must be. If he spoke lightly he is not fit to rule. Unless the word of the Ry of Rys is good against breaking, then the Romanys are no more than scattered leaves at the will of the wind.
The men took away the table and the lanterns which had been standing about, and put out the cooking fire, for the big moon was rolling up over the treetops, and Romanys sing by her light alone, if they can. Frogs were calling in the shallow stretches of the Upper Rockaway. People began to sit down in a big circle. Then Marda started the gillie shoon.
"See then, I want to tell you that it is for you to take the place of the dead Ry. Everywhere in the world where the Romanys wander they will rejoice to hear that a Druse rules us still. The word of the Ry of Rys was law; what he wished to be done was done; what he wished to be undone was undone.
Because these young Romanys knew they dare not aspire, they were resentful; but Jethro, the head of the rival family and the son of the dead claimant to the headship, had not such compulsory modesty. He had ranged far and wide, and his expectations were extensive.
"See then, I want to tell you that it is for you to take the place of the dead Ry. Everywhere in the world where the Romanys wander they will rejoice to hear that a Druse rules us still. The word of the Ry of Rys was law; what he wished to be done was done; what he wished to be undone was undone.
By long and by last, but this is a tale to tell to the Romanys of the world!" For reply she went to the door and opened it wide. "Then go and tell it, Jethro Fawe, to all the world. Tell them I am the renegade daughter of Gabriel Druse, ruler of them all. Tell them there is no fault in him, and that he will return to his own people in his own time, but that I, Fleda Druse, will never return never!
Who are you to call her Henrietta?" I assured the man from the dingle that I had meant no disrespect to his wife. "I had thought she was a mort," said I; "but the ria of a Romany chal is always sacred to me." "Clean balmy," said the woman. "Some other day," said I, "I may visit you in your camp in the dingle and read you the master's book about the Romanys." "What's Romanys?" asked the man.
In spite of this fiasco, the archduke still continues to consider himself as the protector of the Romanys, and remains proud of his title of "Gypsy Prince," being sagacious enough to realize that it is impossible for a race to eradicate from their character, in a comparatively short space of time, traits that have been theirs for hundreds, nay thousands of years; for the origin of these gypsies is still shrouded in mystery and lost in the gloom of prehistoric ages, although it is probable that they are of Persian descent.
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