Part 3 (1/2)

”Father's angry!” they whispered. ”Father is terrible when he is angry. You had better look out!”

Then Gigi knew that there was something else to fear that night. And his heart sank.

Was there to be no end of his troubles?

VI

THE SILVER PIECE

The team stopped in front of a stone cottage, from the window of which the light shone hospitably. They all jumped down from the cart, and under cover of the darkness Mother Margherita hustled Gigi with the other boys into the house, while Giuseppe, the father, cared for the oxen.

The mother busied herself in preparing supper, and the boys scattered about on various errands. But Gigi sat in a corner by the fire, too tired to move or speak. He had thrown off his long cloak, and the fire glanced brightly upon the green and gold costume of this quaint little figure, so out of place in the simple cottage. Presently Giuseppe entered with a heavy tread, and paused in amazement at what he saw on his hearthstone.

”h.e.l.lo!” he cried gruffly. ”What's this?”

Mother Margherita came forward quickly. ”It is a little tumbler,” she said. ”We saw him do his tricks at the market to-day. The Gypsies beat him, and he has run away. Let us give him at least supper and a shelter for the night, Giuseppe?” Her tone was beseeching.

”Hum!” grumbled Giuseppe doubtfully. ”A runaway! A tumbler! A thief, I dare say, as well. A pretty fellow to bring into an honest man's house! His master will be after him, and then we shall all get into trouble for sheltering a runaway. Margherita, you were always a foolish woman! Is this all you have to show for market-day? Where is the money?”

”Here it is, Giuseppe,” said the mother, handing him the bag of silver, which he thrust into his pocket. ”Now let us have supper. You can count the silver afterward, and we will tell you about everything when that is over.”

With a very bad grace the father watched the little stranger timidly take his place at the board between Paolo and Giovanni, Beppo crying because he could not have the tumbler next to him also.

There was much to talk about at that meal. They had to describe the holiday at market, which was a great event for the little family. Then there were the Tumblers; and the adventure of Gigi and the Hunchback,--that was the most exciting of all. And how near they came to losing the bag of silver which they had earned by selling their vegetables at the market! Giuseppe asked Gigi many questions, not unkindly, but with a bluntness that made the boy wince. And often Mother Margherita spoke up for him, with a kind answer. Gigi grew paler and paler, and his food lay almost untouched on his plate. He was too tired to eat.

At last, when supper was finished. Mother Margherita rose and lighted a candle. ”Come with me, Gigi,” she said, ”and I will show you where you are to sleep this night.”

Gigi followed her readily, glad to escape further questioning, and eager to rest his aching head. The little boys called after him a hearty good-night. But Giuseppe saw him go without a word, casting sidewise looks after the retreating figures, and grunting sourly.

There was no room for Gigi in the loft where the family slept. But out in the stable, beside the oxen, was a fresh pile of straw, a fine bed for the tired little wanderer. When Mother Margherita had bidden him a kind good-night and had closed the stable door behind her, Gigi threw himself upon the straw and was almost Instantly asleep. The oxen breathed gently beside him, chewing their cud. Everything was still and peaceful. And the night pa.s.sed.

”c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo!” crowed the first c.o.c.k, speaking the same tongue that he learned at the beginning of the world, and that he always uses in every land, among every people.

It was but a few moments later when Gigi was awakened suddenly by a touch on his shoulder. The boy opened his eyes and stared about, bewildered. He did not know where he was. Who was this bending over him in the dim light? Not Tonio; not Cecco; not the Giant? Then he recognized Mother Margherita, stooping low with a pitiful expression on her face. She had a little bundle in her hand.

”Get up, Gigi,” she whispered. ”You must be off. My man is so angry!

He vows he will take you to the village to-day and give you up to your masters. He thinks you are a thief, Gigi. But I do not believe that you stole the silver piece.”

”The silver piece!” cried Gigi, still more bewildered.

”s.h.!.+” cautioned the woman, laying a hand on his lips. ”Giuseppe must not know that I am here. He sleeps still. When we counted the money in the bag we found it short by one piece of silver, besides the one I gave you. That was my own to do with as I chose. But he believes that you stole another when you were holding the bag for me, hiding under my skirts.”

”I did not take it!” cried Gigi, wide-awake now. ”Oh, I would not steal from you,--not from you, the only person who was ever kind to me!”

”There, there! I told him so!” said the good woman soothingly. ”I told him I must have lost it at the market when I was making change for somebody. But he will not believe. You must be off, Gigi, before he wakes, or you will have to go back to those cruel fellows. Giuseppe is so set! Like a mule he is when he is angry!”

Gigi sprang to his feet and looked wildly around. ”Where shall I go?