"What road is that?" she asked. She knew, but she must ask.

"Everybody knows it; everybody goes it some time or another," he answered
darkly.

"What was it you said to all of them outside?"--she made a gesture towards
the doorway. "There were angry cries, and I heard Jethro Fawe's voice."

"Yes, he was blaspheming," remarked the old man grimly.

"Tell me what it was you said, and tell me what has happened," she
persisted.

The old man hesitated a moment, then said grimly: "I told them they must
go one way and Jethro Fawe another. I told them the Ry of Rys had said
no patrins should mark the road Jethro Fawe's feet walked. I had heard
of this gathering here, and I was on my way to bid them begone, for in
following the Ry they have broken his command. As I came, I met the
woman of this tent who has been your friend. She is a good woman; she
has suffered. Her people are gone, but she has a heart for others. I
met her. She told me of what that rogue and devil had done and would do.
He is the head of the Fawes, but the Ry of Rys is the head of all the
Romanys of the world. He has spoken the Word against Jethro, and the
Word shall prevail. The Word of the Ry when it is given cannot be
withdrawn. It is like the rock on which the hill rests."

"They did not go with him?" she asked.

"It is not the custom," he answered sardonically. "That is a path a
Romany walks alone."