name?”
“It is Saviya,” the Marquis answered, “and she is, as you have guessed, a Gypsy. But her mother is a Russian and a dancer.”
“Tonight you recaptured for me my lost youth!” Sir Algernon said.
He smiled and added to the Marquis:
“Now you understand why, when I was talking to you after dinner, I sounded perhaps exaggeratedly enthusiastic, but even so I was under-estimating, as you must admit, the brilliance not only of the Russian singers but their dancers.”
Then he asked with a note of curiosity in his voice:
“You must explain to me, Ruckley, where you found this fascinating creature. How does it happen that she is here in England?”
“An introduction was thrust upon me,” the Marquis smiled.
He explained how he had run Saviya down with his Phaeton.
“If it had not happened,” he finished, “I should have had no idea that the Gypsies were encamped on my land. It was not until tonight that I had even seen a sign of them.”
“They are a secret people,” Sir Algernon said, and turning to Saviya he asked, “Are you all right after your accident? You might easily have broken your leg, and that would have been a tragedy beyond words.”
“I was fortunate it was no worse,” Saviya answered. “All that is left now is a small scar on my forehead and the few marks on my arm.”
“It still looks rather bruised,” Charles Collington said, looking down at her arm as he came and stood beside her.
She laughed.
“That is the wrong arm.”
“But you do have a bruise there,” he persisted.
“No,” she replied. “That is a birth-mark, and it is a sign much respected by my tribe.”
“Why?” Charles Collington enquired.
“Because,” she replied, “it is the head of a hawk. A hawk has very sharp eyes, and this indicates that I am in fact a ‘Seer’.”
“Yes, you are right,” Charles Collington said, “the mark does look like a hawk’s head—can you see it does, Ruckley?”
It was a birth-mark about the size of a florin and Sir Algernon looked at it. But the Marquis went to fetch Saviya a glass of wine from the side-table.
“You must be both tired and thirsty after that incredible performance,” he said as he handed it to her.
“I seldom feel tired when I am dancing,” she answered. “What was much more frightening was playing the part of a Lady of Quality.”
“Which you did as to the manor born,” Charles Collington said. “Do you not agree, Gibbon?”
“Of course I agree! It was faultless,” Sir Algernon answered. “I am only so disappointed that I shall not be able to give you dinner in London next week.”
“I must say, Gibbon, you are taking the loss of a thousand guineas like a sportsman,” Charles Collington said irrepressibly. “I almost feel embarrassed at winning the money.”
They all laughed at this. Then the Marquis raising his glass said: “I want to drink to Saviya. There is no-one who has surprised us more with her amazing talents, or who could have been more modest about them. She told me she was a dancer, but not for one moment did I expect a performance such as the one we have just witnessed.”
“What I cannot understand,” Sir Algernon said, “is why you are here; why do you not stay in St. Petersburg where your talents would be appreciated?”
“My father, like all Gypsies, has a wanderlust,” Saviya answered. “After a little while—however comfortable we may be, however happy—he wants to move on. We wandered all over Russia from the North to the very South, then he had a yearning to see England again.”
“He has been here before?” the Marquis asked.
“Yes, but many years ago,” Saviya replied, “before I was born, or when I was only a baby. I do not remember it.”
They talked for some time and then Saviya said:
“I think I must go. My father will wonder what has happened to me, since the rest of the tribe will have long returned to the camp.” As she spoke the door opened and a footman came into the
“It is Saviya,” the Marquis answered, “and she is, as you have guessed, a Gypsy. But her mother is a Russian and a dancer.”
“Tonight you recaptured for me my lost youth!” Sir Algernon said.
He smiled and added to the Marquis:
“Now you understand why, when I was talking to you after dinner, I sounded perhaps exaggeratedly enthusiastic, but even so I was under-estimating, as you must admit, the brilliance not only of the Russian singers but their dancers.”
Then he asked with a note of curiosity in his voice:
“You must explain to me, Ruckley, where you found this fascinating creature. How does it happen that she is here in England?”
“An introduction was thrust upon me,” the Marquis smiled.
He explained how he had run Saviya down with his Phaeton.
“If it had not happened,” he finished, “I should have had no idea that the Gypsies were encamped on my land. It was not until tonight that I had even seen a sign of them.”
“They are a secret people,” Sir Algernon said, and turning to Saviya he asked, “Are you all right after your accident? You might easily have broken your leg, and that would have been a tragedy beyond words.”
“I was fortunate it was no worse,” Saviya answered. “All that is left now is a small scar on my forehead and the few marks on my arm.”
“It still looks rather bruised,” Charles Collington said, looking down at her arm as he came and stood beside her.
She laughed.
“That is the wrong arm.”
“But you do have a bruise there,” he persisted.
“No,” she replied. “That is a birth-mark, and it is a sign much respected by my tribe.”
“Why?” Charles Collington enquired.
“Because,” she replied, “it is the head of a hawk. A hawk has very sharp eyes, and this indicates that I am in fact a ‘Seer’.”
“Yes, you are right,” Charles Collington said, “the mark does look like a hawk’s head—can you see it does, Ruckley?”
It was a birth-mark about the size of a florin and Sir Algernon looked at it. But the Marquis went to fetch Saviya a glass of wine from the side-table.
“You must be both tired and thirsty after that incredible performance,” he said as he handed it to her.
“I seldom feel tired when I am dancing,” she answered. “What was much more frightening was playing the part of a Lady of Quality.”
“Which you did as to the manor born,” Charles Collington said. “Do you not agree, Gibbon?”
“Of course I agree! It was faultless,” Sir Algernon answered. “I am only so disappointed that I shall not be able to give you dinner in London next week.”
“I must say, Gibbon, you are taking the loss of a thousand guineas like a sportsman,” Charles Collington said irrepressibly. “I almost feel embarrassed at winning the money.”
They all laughed at this. Then the Marquis raising his glass said: “I want to drink to Saviya. There is no-one who has surprised us more with her amazing talents, or who could have been more modest about them. She told me she was a dancer, but not for one moment did I expect a performance such as the one we have just witnessed.”
“What I cannot understand,” Sir Algernon said, “is why you are here; why do you not stay in St. Petersburg where your talents would be appreciated?”
“My father, like all Gypsies, has a wanderlust,” Saviya answered. “After a little while—however comfortable we may be, however happy—he wants to move on. We wandered all over Russia from the North to the very South, then he had a yearning to see England again.”
“He has been here before?” the Marquis asked.
“Yes, but many years ago,” Saviya replied, “before I was born, or when I was only a baby. I do not remember it.”
They talked for some time and then Saviya said:
“I think I must go. My father will wonder what has happened to me, since the rest of the tribe will have long returned to the camp.” As she spoke the door opened and a footman came into the
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