prison, oh, for years, perhaps! No, no; I will get her away, with you to
help me. Leave that to me. Peter is stupid. Come with me now; I know
what we must do."

"Where are you going? This isn't the way back to where Dolly is,"
protested Bessie, as Lolla pressed on in the direction from which
Bessie had come. "We can never get up those rocks, Lolla; it was hard
enough to come down."

"We are not going there, not yet," said Lolla. "I must go to the camp
and find out what John is doing. If he comes back to watch her himself
it will be harder. But if he has to stay, and Peter looks after her,
then we shall have no trouble. You shall see; only trust me. I managed
so that you saw her, didn't I? Doesn't that show you that I can do what
I say?"

"I suppose so," sighed Bessie. "I should think you wouldn't care if that
man does go to prison, though, Lolla. He isn't nice to you, and you say
he'll beat you when you're married. American men don't beat their wives.
If they did they would be sent to prison. I should think you'd give him
up--"

Lolla's dark eyes flamed for a moment, but then she smiled, as if she
had remembered that Bessie, not being a gypsy, could not be expected to
understand the gypsy ways.

"He is a good man," she said. "He will always see that I have enough to
eat, and pretty things to wear. And if he beats me, it will be because I
have been wicked, and deserve to be beaten. When I am his wife he will
be like my father; if I am bad he will punish me. Is it not so among