Garty wonders if this plan will ever work? The ladies seem smitten by these thugs, who are now acting like real gentlemen!
Garty dismounts and ties Brill loosely to a tree branch nearby. It is a coolish day and his hands are chilled by riding through the dense bush without sunlight. He longs to rush to the glowing fire and warm up. Instead, he quietly slips behind the tree and moves swiftly to the back of the camp.
If Bubba is here she will be in the far tent, it is smaller than the other tent and shut up. That is the only thing he can use as a possible clue. Perhaps these were not the people who took her? He ponders that thought for less than a single second. The way in which Black Mack had looked intently at Brill gave me another small clue that he had met the beast before. Brill stepped away from him when he approached, another clue, Garty adds this to notes in his head. Garty wanders a little through the trees and bushes and loosens his belt as a pretence of needing a toilet relief.
“Are you having a drink? Sir?” The voice of Black Mack sounds behind Garty.
“Excuse me,” said Garty, buckling his loosened belt. Black Mack steps backwards a little to allow Garty a moment’s privacy.
“Do I know you?” asks Black Mack, stepping forward again, peering into Garty’s face. Garty shakes his head and attempts to change his dialect a little. He pulls the scarf a little more over his face as he replies.
“You too, fella!” Garty says in a humorous voice, laughing a little, mainly because he is rather nervous. The plan is fading fast!
“Love a drink, rum,” he says quickly, facing towards the camp to try and direct Black Mack away. “Them feisty women are surely getting on fine with your boys!” he says, plucking a stick from a tree.
Black Mack hurries back to the camp, staying in charge of everyone, now shouting backwards at Garty, “You get back here too, or I shall be disappointed in you.”
“Sure Boss, in a tick!” Garty replies, then turns away again.
I need to take a look inside the second tent and time waits for no man.
Quickly he slips past the trees and comes to the backside of the tent. He sees it is poorly made, with rips in a few places on the rear side. Looking around and then placing his eye on a torn patch, he tries to see inside where it is very dark, despite the ambience of daylight around.
Something moves inside.
“Bubba,” he whispers and waits.
There is a sickening silence. He hears Black Mack and the other two jesting with the women, who are seemingly enjoying their attention.
Garty looks at the structure of the tent and sneaks out the small knife he brought with him tucked inside his boot. In one swift move he cuts the cloth on the rear side at the ripped spot. He has to find out if Bubba is alive or not?
He rips the cloth a bit more and now he sees inside. He hardly believes his eyes! There is a small person curled up in the foetal position. He doubles up and steps inside the ripped area and kneels beside her.
“Bubba,” he calls out, placing his finger near her throat to find a pulse.
She is hog tied. He cuts the ropes around her wrists and feet, knotted together. I am disgusted! His heart fills with pain.
Her eyes pop open. She looks at him, terrified, then tears rush into her eyes!
“Garty, it’s you,” Bubba cries out. Her voice is weak and her throat dry.
Garty heaves a sigh of relief.
“We’ve come to get you,” Garty says, helping her to her feet. She is weak but unharmed. “Can you walk?” He asks speedily.
“Yes,” she says, but he sees that she is very weak!
“Come with me,” he says as she holds his hand and they duck and weave along the tree line adjacent to the camp.
Garty knows that the gypsy men will be close right now, as they arranged, so sends her in the direction from which they are arriving.
“Go through the thicket and use this!”
He hands her a little flute to play to let the gypsies know she is freed.
“This is the sound they are waiting for,” he adds. “Go.”
She runs into the thicket, keeping low.
Garty returns to the camp and joins the party. The ladies are enjoying drinks with the three men, who seem to be a little merry.
“We have a long journey to take and we must not delay,” says Garty through his colourful scarf-mask alias.
“Why are you wearing a mask, Sir?” Asks Black Mack, reaching out and pulling Garty’s silk scarf away.
“Hey, I know you. Fellas, this joker was our recent guest,” said Black Mack, taking his rifle and clicking it, raising it to his shoulder.
“Why are you here?”
“We killed him,” said Barley Rock, taking his eyes off Crystalina for a moment. She quickly, smoothly reaches under her folds of silk and a pistol is in her gloved hand. Janda gives Baddy Pin a clout in his cheek that sends him spinning.
Black Mack fires his rifle into the air as the camp is invaded by six gypsy men who holler and shout as they join the fray.
Garty strikes Black Mack with his fist, and then joins the others in a fist and wrestling fight that is painful for him, but he enjoys it.
As the fight continues, Garty sees that the gypsies winning hands down. The three thugs are on the ground, groaning.
Garty slips away, taking Brill by the reins, and runs through the thicket seeking Bubba. He hears the sound of a tin flute and finds Bubba with her back to a tree, waiting.
“You have done well, Bubba!” he says. “Come on, up you get!” He helps her onto Brill’s back and then mounts behind her.
Brill easily carries two persons. He encourages the beast to carry on.
“They are down for the count,” Garty says, holding Bubba around her tiny waist. She is too frail for these thugs, he reasons.
“Now it’s time to go home,” he adds.
There is no point to saying goodbye to these thugs. Maybe I can get back to thank the gypsy tribe again soon, he muses.
His smile is huge, and he is very happy to see Bubba again. In the distance he hears the gypsies enjoying the fight of their lives and presumably, winning this very battle for Bubba’s life.
“The first thing we must do is take you home,” he says to Bubba as they raced through laneways, grasslands and through woods heavy laden with bright new leaves, giving them the coverage they need. Brill is happy to race home again with his most beloved persons, Bubba and his master Garty.
An hour later they arrive at the village of Scatt and head for the Maud Inn. To their surprise, there is a handful of women and children staring at them and waving excitedly as they ride into town.
“Something’s strange here,” says Bubba turning her head towards Garty.
He has an idea of what is going on and he has a sinking feeling of trouble ahead.
“First, you need a drink,” says Garty, as they reach the Maud Inn.
Sliding from the beast, Garty has no need to help Bubba, who is her old agile self again, sliding effortlessly from Brill, landing expertly on the ground, natural in her dismount. The town is deserted.
“The invisible townsfolk,” she whispers. “Where is everybody?” she asks finally, addressing Garty, who ties Brill at the post outside the Maud Inn.
“I might have some idea,” he says as he leaps two steps at a time to the entrance of the inn. The door is open and the place deserted. Garty has a conscience moment as he remembers what the proprietor and himself had discussed and how frustrated he had become.
Mrs Bouchée wanted to help find Bubba, and is now possibly out there searching! His face turns bright pink at the thoughts of the possible consequences for him.
Then Ellie appears from the kitchen area. She carries a plate of food and almost drops it at the sight of Garty and Bubba.
“What are you doing here?” She asks them straight away, as if they are trespassing on her property.
“He set me free,” says Bubba, stepping forward towards Ellie. “I was captured you know,” she informs Ellie.
“I know about that. Well, everyone in town who owns a gun or horse has now ridden away searching for you. And you are right here. Why didn’t you tell me…” Her voice stalls.
“Sorry Ellie, but I had to make a move quickly,” says Garty.
“Is anybody else here with you?”
“Only a couple of ladies who have retired into boudoirs for a rest,” she answers. “I am otherwise alone,” she adds.
She puts her plate down and looks a little coyly at the man. “I am so sorry. I should have asked if you wish to dine?” she says as she wipes her hands in her apron.
“Yes, please,” says Bubba quickly.
She is starving and has hardly been given anything to eat for two days.
“Right away, Sir, Miss,” Ellie replies.
She leaves her own meal on the plate and hurries to the kitchen area. She shouts back to the pair. “I shall make thee sandwiches!”
“Come on, let us sit down here,” says Garty, pulling out a chair for Bubba.
“But, I am a servant. I am unsure that I should sit here with the patrons,” she explains her reluctance. “I do not wish to cause trouble!”
She feels as if she has caused enough trouble for now. But it was never her fault.
“You are a hero to me, and I shall add you to my friends’ listing. You are entitled to eat, at the least!” Garty adds this vehemently! He is surprised at his own passion about this young woman’s humility. This was a fine virtue that few men or women displayed readily. He knows humility is not his own virtue.
Having enjoyed a hearty meal of sandwiches and apple juice, Garty and Bubba relax for a while in the comfortable chairs provided for patrons. They are exhausted and relaxed together for an hour or so. Ellie has retired to the servants’ quarters, taking her plate of food with her and bid the pair goodnight.
“You must tell me what these marauders did to you? They must be punished,” Garty tells Bubba. He knows how cruel they were towards him.
She leans on the table between them and he notices her eyes, like a misty morning, with such kindness in her soft smile. When they speak she seems to be totally engrossed in his words. He is deeply moved by her attention.
He is engrossed in listening to her tale about her captors and what they tried to do to her that he does not hear the ruckus when Mrs Bouchée bustles through the door with some of the locals on her heels.
“So, you are here?” She says this in a very loud voice.
Garty looks towards the door and quickly stands to greet her.
“Please take a seat,” he invites her to sit down.
“We made it here, thank Heavens!”
“Thank you, Garty,” she replies, sitting down heavily and groaning.
“We were out of our minds with worry. What a night we have had!” she says rubbing her forehead briefly.
“We are deeply sorry,” Bubba says, standing up and appearing at Mrs Bouchée’s side.
“Can we get you a drink?” She asks amicably.