“Do you think they would? The squire is a man of great influence in the neighbourhood. It was his nephew who was killed.”
“But it is against the law to commit rape.”
“Does that apply to squires and gypsy girls?”
“To all, surely,” I said. “The real criminal is that squire’s nephew.”
“Do you think you could get a court to believe that?”
“There will be Leah to give evidence.”
“That would carry no weight. No. I could see it was the hangman’s noose for me.” He touched his neck wryly as though he could feel the rope about it. “I have a strong desire to go on living.”
“What happened?”
“Before they took me away, Penfold, Leah’s father, swore the gypsies would never allow me to be hanged. They knew where I was in jail and they had a horse waiting nearby in case I could make my escape. They were aware that if I came up for trial it would be over for me. My chance came … a drunken guard, a little bribery … and I was out and there was the horse waiting for me … and I was away. I want to get out of the country. I’ll never be safe here. I was making my way to the coast. I came this way because I thought Dolly would help me. But I found the house empty …”
I was silent, then I said: “You will be safe here for tonight. Tomorrow the servants will come. How will you get out of England? There is a boat in the old boathouse. I’ve seen it fairly recently, but you would never get across the Channel in it, and how could you go to France?”
“I would attempt it.”
“The French will be watching the coasts. You know we are at war with them.”
“I’d have to take the risk.”
“If you could get to Belgium … but that is a longer crossing.”
“First it would be for me to get the boat.”
“The boat is there. You’d have to row yourself…”
“The case is desperate. I’ll try anything rather than fall into the hands of those who will condemn me before the trial starts.” He took my hands and looked steadily at me. “You will not betray me, little Jessica?”
“I never would,” I cried with fervour. “I’d always help you.”
He kissed me tenderly.
“You are a wonderful girl,” he said. “I never knew a girl like you before.”
He had a certain effect on me. I forgot Dolly and how he had seduced her. I forgot that he had killed a man. Soldiers killed in battles. The enemy, they called them, although they had no personal quarrel. This man had killed another who would have harmed a young girl. He was protecting the innocent against the wicked. He had been right to use whatever methods were necessary to save the girl. I was on his side. I had a feeling that no matter what he had done I should have been.
“You should be out of this house before the morning,” I said.
He nodded. “After dark, I shall go down to the shore and find that boathouse. Perhaps I could take the boat along the coast and find a ship going somewhere …”
“You should go round to Ramsgate or Harwich. There you might get to Holland. Do you have any money?”
“Tenfold brought me money with the horse.”
“It would have been better if you had made for the east coast.”
“I could not choose my way. I was being hunted.”
“If you went abroad, it would mean you would never come back.”
“These things are forgotten with the years. Tell me, when will the baby come?”
“Very soon now.”
“And Dolly, how is she?”
“Very happy. She wants the baby desperately. I think if you came back, she would be perfectly happy.”
“What a neat little ending that would be to a midnight frolic round a bonfire.”
“Is that what it was to you?”
He was silent. Then he said: “Please don’t think too badly of me. You were there, weren’t you. Do you remember?”
“Yes, I do remember.”
“Sitting in the carriage with your parents. I went on thinking of you…”
Neither of us spoke for some time. I was thinking of him in a cart, being taken to some place, and the crowd looking on while they strung him up by his neck. I had never witnessed a public hanging, but one of the servants had. She had come from London and seen it at Tyburn. She had given a graphic description.
That must not be the fate of Romany Jake.
I turned to him impulsively. “You must get away from here as soon as it is dark. I’ll bring you some food. Go to the east coast…”
“There is food here in the pantries. I was sure Dolly would not grudge me that. Where is the old lady? Has she gone with Dolly?”
“She died. She was horrified because Dolly was going to have a baby. She went out into the snow and was out all night. It killed her.”
He put his hand to his head. “So that is something else I have to answer for.”
“We all have to answer for all sorts of things.”
“How wise you are and how lucky I am to have your friendship. It is an unusual story. The lady of the manor befriending a poor gypsy who is running from the law.”
“There have been stranger stories. There is that one you sing about the lady who left home to join the gypsies.”
“You have not gone so far as that!”
The hall was suddenly illuminated by lightning which was immediately followed by a clap of thunder.
“I thought that one was for us,” he said.
“As soon as the storm is over I must go back. They’ll be wondering where I am.”
“They wouldn’t expect you to be walking through the storm.”
“No.”
“So we are safe for a little while.”
“Tell me about the gypsies,” I said. “It seems such a strange life for a man like you.”
“I’ll tell you a secret. I’m not a gypsy, born and bred. I joined them two years ago because I wanted a life on the open road. I had never liked the restricted life. I wanted my freedom. I could have had an easy life… slept in my goose-feather bed … sat down at table and feasted like a lord. This is the story over again. This is not the lady who left her home to follow the gypsies; but the man who left the family home to join them.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I quarrelled with my brother. He is fifteen years older than I. As our parents were dead he was in a sense my guardian—and I was a rebel. I ran away from school; I consorted with the menials on the estate. I made their grievances my concern; and after a serious family quarrel I realized that I did not want to go on doing things just because that was the way they had been done for hundreds of years. I wanted to be free … my own man. I did not want to obey a lot of social laws which seemed absurd to me, so I joined the gypsies. They have accepted me and some of the best friends I ever had are among them. I cut myself off completely from the old life. There were no regrets I believe on either side. My brother was relieved to be rid of one who brought nothing but trouble. It was just that I cannot endure being shut in whether it be by iron bars or conventions.”
“I understand.”
“Well, now this could be the ignoble end of a useless life.”
“Don’t say that,” I cried. “In any case it wasn’t useless for Leah. You saved her, remember. And this is not going to be the end. You can get out of the country. Get to Harwich. I am sure you will be able to get across to Holland. You have the horse.”
“I took the liberty of putting him in the stables. I fed and watered him there. He is resting … ready for the long ride to Heaven knows where.”
“You must get to Harwich. Take the byways. They would not think of looking for you along the east coast. You’d have a good chance there.”
“I’ll leave when it is dark. Can I trust you to tell no one I am here?”
“Of course.”
“I hope to lie in hiding for a while until the hue and cry has died down.”
“Leave tonight,” I said; and I added: “I shall be thinking of you.”
“That gives me comfort, a determination to succeed, and when you are older I shall have so much to tell you.”
“Tell me now. I hate waiting.”
“I hate waiting too … but this will have to wait.”