"Let's bargain," laughed Will. "Show me Miss Vanderman, alive and well, and—"
"Steady the Buffs!" I warned him. "Gloria's not far away. There were pebbles dropped on my horse. There may be a cave above this cliff—or something of the sort."
Will nodded. "—and I won't tell Kagig you made love to me!" he continued.
"Poof! Pah! Kagig, 'e know that long ago!"
Will turned to his two men and bade them tie the horses to a bush.
"How are the ribs?" he asked me.
"Nothing serious," said I.
"Do you think you can watch her if I tie her feet?"
"She's slippery and strong! Better tie her to a tree as well!"
So between them Will and the two men trussed her up like a chicken ready for the market, making her bound ankles fast to the roots of a bush. Then he led the two men up the cliff-side, and Maga lay glaring at me as if she hoped hate could set me on fire, while I made shift lo stanch my wound.
But she changed her tactics almost before Will was out of sight beyond a boulder, beginning to scream the same words over and over in the gipsy tongue and struggling to free her feet until I thought the thongs would either burst or strip the flesh from her.
The screams were answered by a shout from up above. Then I heard Will shout, and some one fired a pistol. There came a clatter of loose stones, and I got to my feet to be ready for action—not that my hurts would have let me accomplish much.
A second later I saw three of Gregor Jhaere's gipsies scurrying along the cliff-side, turning at intervals to fire
