coat. Even as it was, Kara would not be pleased to fiddle to her
dancing, since he already was jealous of Lambert. But Chaldea knew how
to manage this part of the business, risky though it was. The hairy
little ape with the musician's soul had no claim on her, unless she
chose to give him that of a husband. Then, indeed, things would be
different, but the time had not come for marital slavery.

The schemer found Kara at the hour of sunset sitting at the door of the
tent he occupied, drawing sweet tones from his violin. This was the
little man's way of conversing, for he rarely talked to human beings. He
spoke to the fiddle and the fiddle spoke to him, probably about Chaldea,
since the girl was almost incessantly in his thoughts. She occupied them
now, and when he raised his shaggy head at the touch on his hump-back,
he murmured with joy at the sight of her flushed beauty. Had he known
that the flush came from jealousy of a rival, Kara might not have been
so pleased. The two conversed in Romany, since the Servian did not speak
English.

"Brother?" questioned Chaldea, standing in the glory of the rosy sunset
which slanted through the trees. "What of Ishmael?"

"He is with Gentilla in her tent, sister. Do you wish to see him?"

Chaldea shook her proud head. "What have I to do with the half Romany?
Truly, brother, his heart is Gentile, though his skin be of Egypt."

"Why should that be, sister, when his name signifies that he is of the
gentle breed?" asked Kara, laying down his violin.

"Gentile but not gentle," said Chaldea punning, then checked herself