The crowd clapped noisily, cheering until the great, bare station of the customs rang and re-echoed.
The gypsies backed together, smiling, bowing; they passed through the door. They reached the paling--the sentinels; the flag with the eagle floated over their heads; then a click, and the gate closed behind them.
They were on German soil. They were free--they were free.
The room at the inn was small and very still. The shades were down, and over in the corner, beyond the couch, a single candle was burning.
"Are you awake, Kaya?" said Velasco softly, bending over the couch until his curls brushed hers, and his lips were close to her rosy cheek.
"I have watched so long for your eyes to open, Kaya! My--wife."
He put his arms about her and she lay still for a moment, scarcely breathing. Then she spoke:
"I am not your wife, Velasco. Take your arms away."
"Your cheek is so soft, Kaya; the centre is like a red rose blushing. Let me rest my cheek against it."
"Your lips are arched like a bow, so red, so sweet! When I press them--I press--them!"
"Velasco--Velasco! Take your lips--away!"
The girl half rose on her pillow, pushing him back; striking at him feebly with her bare hands; "Go--don't touch me! I have been asleep--I am mad! I am not your wife--Velasco! We must part at once--I tell you, we must part!"
Velasco laughed: "Part!" he said, "You and I, Kaya?--Part? Have you forgotten the church, the priest in his surplice, the dark nave and the candles? We knelt side by side. You are my wife and I am your husband. Kaya, we can never part in life or in death."
The girl put her hand to her breast: "It was only a 'Nihilistic marriage,' Velasco, you know what that means! A mere form for the sake of the certificate, the papers--just to show for the passport that we might go together." Her voice came through her throat roughly as if it hurt her.
Velasco laughed again shortly: "What is that to me?" he said, "We were married; you are my wife. Put your hands down, Kaya--let me take you in my arms. You know--throughout the journey, when we were tramping through the snow and the cold, I treated you as a comrade, for your sake. You asked it. You know--Kaya? And now--now we are in Germany; we are gypsies no longer. You are the Countess and I am Velasco--your husband, Kaya, your--husband."
