CHAPTER XVII
THE PADRONE IS ANXIOUS
The next morning Paul and Phil rose later that usual. They slept longer,in order to make up for the late hour at which they retired. As they satdown to breakfast, at half-past eight, Paul said: "I wonder whether thepadrone misses you, Phil?"
"Yes," said Phil; "he will be very angry because I did not come backlast night."
"Will he think you have run away?"
"I do not know. Some of the boys stay away sometimes, because they aretoo far off to come home."
"Then he may expect you to-night. I suppose he will have a beating readyfor you."
"Yes, he would beat me very hard," said Phil, "if he thought I did notmean to come back."
"I should like to go and tell him that he need not expect you. I shouldlike to see how he looks."
"He might beat you, too, Paolo."
"I should like to see him try it," said Paul, straightening up with aconsciousness of strength. "He might find that rather hard."
Phil looked admiringly at the boy who was not afraid of the padrone.Like his comrades, he had been accustomed to think of the padrone aspossessed of unlimited power, and never dreamed of anybody defying him,or resisting his threats. Though he had determined to run away, his soulwas not free from the tyranny of his late taskmaster, and he thoughtwith uneasiness and dread of the possibility of his being conveyed backto him.
"Well, mother," said Paul, glancing at the clock as he rose from thebreakfast table, "it is almost nine o'clock--rather a late hour for abusiness man like me."
"You are not often so late, Paul."
"It is lucky that I am my own employer, or I might run the risk ofbeing discharged. I am afraid the excuse that I was at Mrs. Hoffman'sfashionable party would not be thought sufficient. I guess I won't havetime to stop to shave this morning."
"You haven't got anything to shave," said Jimmy.
"Don't be envious, Jimmy. I counted several hairs this morning. Well,Phil, are you ready to go with me? Don't forget your fiddle."
"When shall we see you again, Philip?" said Mrs. Hoffman.
"I do not know," said the little minstrel.
"Shall you not come to the city sometimes?"
"I am afraid the padrone would catch me," said Phil.
"Whenever you do come, Phil," said Paul, "come right to me. I will takecare of you. I don't think the padrone will carry us both off, and hewould have to take me if he took you."
"Good-by, Philip," said Mrs. Hoffman, offering her hand. "I hope youwill prosper."
"So do I, Phil," said Jimmy.
Phil thus took with him the farewells and good wishes of two friendswho had been drawn to him by his attractive face and good qualities. Hecould not help wishing that he might stay with them permanently, but heknew that this could not be. To remain in the same city with the padronewas out of the question.
Meanwhile we return to the house which Phil had forsaken, and inquirewhat effect was produced by his non-appearance.
It was the rule of the establishment that all the boys should be backby midnight. Phil had generally returned an hour before that time. When,therefore, it was near midnight, the padrone looked uneasily at theclock.
"Have you seen Filippo?" he asked, addressing his nephew.
"No, signore," answered Pietro. "Filippo has not come in."
"Do you think he has run away?" asked the padrone, suspiciously.
"I don't know," said Pietro.
"Have you any reason to think he intended to run away?"
"No," said Pietro.
"I should not like to lose him. He brings me more money than most of theboys."
"He may come in yet."
"When he does," said the padrone, frowning, "I will beat him for beingso late. Is there any boy that he would be likely to tell, if he meantto run away?"
"Yes," said Pietro, with a sudden thought, "there is Giacomo."
"The sick boy?"
"Yes. Filippo went in this morning to speak to him. He might have toldhim then."
"That is true. I will go and ask him."
Giacomo still lay upon his hard pallet, receiving very little attention.His fever had increased, and he was quite sick. He rolled from one sideto the other in his restlessness. He needed medical attention, but thepadrone was indifferent, and none of the boys would have dared to calla doctor without his permission. As he lay upon his bed, the padroneentered the room with a hurried step.
"Where is Giacomo?" he demanded, harshly.
"Here I am, signore padrone," answered the little boy, trembling, as healways did when addressed by the tyrant.
"Did Filippo come and speak with you this morning, before he went out?"
"Si, signore."
"What did he say?"
"He asked me how I felt."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him I felt sick."
"Nothing more?"
"I told him I thought I should die.'
"Nonsense!" said the padrone, harshly; "you are a coward. You have alittle cold, that is all. Did he say anything about running away?"
"No, signore."
"Don't tell me a lie!" said the tyrant, frowning.
"I tell you the truth, signore padrone. Has not Filippo come home?"
"No."
"I do not think he has run away," said the little boy.
"Why not?"
"I think he would tell me."
"So you two are friends, are you?"
"Si, signore; I love Filippo," answered Giacomo, speaking the last wordstenderly, and rather to himself than to the padrone. He looked up toPhil, though little older than himself, with a mixture of respectand devotion, leaning upon him as the weak are prone to lean upon thestrong.
"Then you will be glad to hear," said the padrone, with a refinement ofcruelty, "that I shall beat him worse than last night for staying out solate."
"Don't beat him, padrone," pleaded Giacomo, bursting into tears."Perhaps he cannot come home."
"Did he ever speak to you of running away?" asked the padrone, with asudden thought.
Giacomo hesitated. He could not truthfully deny that Filippo had doneso, but he did not want to get his friend into trouble. He remainedsilent, looking up at the tyrant with troubled eyes.
"Why do you not speak? Did you hear my question?" asked the padrone,with a threatening gesture.
Had the question been asked of some of the other boys present, theywould not have scrupled to answer falsely; but Giacomo had a religiousnature, and, neglected as he had been, he could not make up his mind totell a falsehood. So, after a pause, he faltered out a confession thatPhil had spoken of flight.
"Do you hear that, Pietro?" said the padrone, turning to his nephew."The little wretch has doubtless run away."
"Shall I look for him to-morrow?" asked Pietro, with alacrity, for tohim it would be a congenial task to drag Phil home, and witness thepunishment.
"Yes, Pietro. I will tell you where to go in the morning. We must havehim back, and I will beat him so that he will not dare to run awayagain."
The padrone would have been still more incensed could he have lookedinto Mrs. Hoffman's room and seen the little fiddler the center of amerry group, his brown face radiant with smiles as he swept the chordsof his violin. It was well for Phil that he could not see him.