Nobody's Boy

  CHAPTER XXV

  MOTHER, BROTHERS AND SISTERS

  If I had not been in a hurry to get to Paris I should have stayed a longtime with Lise. We had so much to say to each other and could say solittle in the language that we used. She told me with signs how good heruncle and aunt had been to her and what beautiful rides she had in thebarges, and I told her how I had nearly perished in the mine whereAlexix worked and that my family were looking for me. That was thereason that I was hurrying to Paris and that was why it had beenimpossible for me to go and see Etiennette.

  Naturally most of the talk was about my family, my rich family and all Iwould do when I had money. I would make her father, brothers, sisters,and above all herself, happy. Lise, unlike Mattia, was delighted. Shequite believed that if one had money one ought to be very happy,because, would not her father have been happy if he had only had themoney to pay his debts? We took long walks, all three of us, Lise,Mattia and I, accompanied by the doll and Capi. I was very happy thosefew days. In the evening we sat in front of the house when it was nottoo damp and before the fireplace when the mist was thick. I played theharp and Mattia played his violin or cornet. Lise preferred the harp,which made me very proud. When the time came and we had to separate andgo to bed, I played and sang her my Neapolitan song.

  Yet we had to part and go on our way. I told her that I would come backfor her soon. My last words to her were: "I'll come and fetch you in acarriage drawn by four horses."

  And she quite believed me and she made a motion as though she werecracking a whip to urge on the horses. She also, the same as I, couldsee my riches and my horses and carriages.

  I was so eager to get to Paris now that if it had not been for Mattia Iwould have stopped only to collect what was absolutely necessary for ourfood. We had no cow to buy now, nor doll. It was not for me to takemoney to my rich parents.

  "Let us get all we can," said Mattia, forcing me to take my harp, "forwe don't know if we shall find Barberin at once. One would think thatyou had forgotten that night when you were dying of hunger."

  "Oh, I haven't," I said lightly, "but we're sure to find him at once.You wait."

  "Yes, but I have not forgotten how I leaned up against the church thatday when you found me. Ah, I don't want to be hungry in Paris."

  "We'll dine all the better when we get to my parents'," I replied.

  "Well, let's work just as though we are buying another cow," urgedMattia.

  This was very wise advice but I must admit that I did not sing with thesame spirit. To get the money to buy a cow for Mother Barberin or a dollfor Lise was quite a different matter.

  "How lazy you'll be when you're rich," said Mattia. The nearer we got toParis the gayer I became; and the more melancholy grew Mattia. As I hadassured him that we should not be parted I wondered why he should be sadnow. Finally, when we reached the gates of Paris, he told me how greatwas his fear of Garofoli, and that if he saw him he knew that he wouldtake him again.

  "You know how afraid you are of Barberin, so you can imagine how I fearGarofoli. If he's out of prison he'll be sure to catch me. Oh, my poorhead; how he used to bang it! And then he will part us; of course he'dlike to have you as one of his pupils, but he could not force you tostay, but he has a right to me. He's my uncle."

  I had not thought of Garofoli. I arranged with Mattia that I should goto the various places that Mother Barberin had mentioned as to where Imight find Barberin. Then I would go to the Rue Mouffetard and afterthat he should meet me at seven o'clock outside the Notre DameCathedral.

  We parted as though we were never going to meet again. Mattia went inone direction, I in another. I had written down on paper the names ofthe places where Barberin had lived before. I went first to one place,then to another. At one lodging house they told me that he had livedthere four years ago but that he had not been there since. The landlordtold me that he'd like to catch the rogue, for he owed him one week'srent. I grew very despondent. There was only one place left for me toinquire; that was at a restaurant. The man who kept the place said thathe had not seen him for a very long time, but one of the customerssitting eating at a table called out that he had been living at theHotel du Cantal of late.

  Before going to the Hotel du Cantal I went to Garofoli's place to see ifI could find out something about him so that I could take back some newsto poor Mattia. When I reached the yard I saw, as on my first visit, thesame old man hanging up dirty rags outside the door.

  "Has Garofoli returned?" I asked.

  The old man looked at me without replying, then began to cough. I couldsee that he would not tell me anything unless I let him know that _I_knew all about Garofoli.

  "You don't mean to say he is still in prison?" I exclaimed. "Why, Ithought he'd got out long ago."

  "No, he's got another three months yet."

  Garofoli three more months in prison! Mattia could breathe. I left thehorrible yard as quickly as possible and hurried off to the Hotel duCantal. I was full of hope and joy and quite disposed to think kindly ofBarberin; if it had not been for Barberin, I might have died of coldand hunger when I was a baby. It was true he had taken me from MotherBarberin to sell me to a stranger, but then he had no liking for me andperhaps he was forced to do it for the money. After all it was throughhim that I was finding my parents. So now I ought not to harbor anybitterness against him.

  I soon reached the Hotel du Cantal which was only a hotel in name, beingnothing better than a miserable lodging house.

  "I want to see a man named Barberin; he comes from Chavanon," I said toa dirty old woman who sat at a desk. She was very deaf and asked me torepeat what I had said.

  "Do you know a man named Barberin?" I shouted.

  Then she threw up her hands to heaven so abruptly that the cat sleepingon her knees sprang down in terror.

  "Alas! Alas!" she cried, then she added: "Are you the boy he was lookingfor?"

  "Oh, you know?" I cried excitedly. "Well, where's Barberin?"

  "Dead," she replied, laconically.

  I leaned on my harp.

  "Dead!" I cried loud enough for her to hear. I was dazed. How should Ifind my parents now?

  "You're the boy they're looking for; I'm sure you are," said the oldwoman again.

  "Yes, yes, I'm the boy. Where's my family? Can you tell me?"

  "I don't know any more than just what I've told you, my boy; I shouldsay my young gentleman."

  "What did Barberin say about my parents? Oh, do tell me," I saidimploringly.

  She threw her arms up towards heaven.

  "Ah, if that isn't a story!"

  "Well, tell it me. What is it?"

  At this moment a woman who looked like a servant came forward. Themistress of the Hotel du Cantal turned to her: "If this isn't an affair!This boy here, this young gentleman, is the man Barberin talked so muchabout."

  "But didn't Barberin speak to you about my family?" I asked.

  "I should say so--more than a hundred times. A very rich family it is,that you've got, my boy, my young gentleman."

  "And where do they live and what is their name?"

  "Barberin wouldn't tell us anything. He was that mysterious. He wantedto get all the reward for himself."

  "Didn't he leave any papers?"

  "No, nothing except one that said he came from Chavanon. If we hadn'tfound that, we couldn't have let his wife know he's dead."

  "Oh, you did let her know?"

  "Sure, why not?"

  I could learn nothing from the old woman. I turned slowly towards thedoor.

  "Where are you going?" she asked.

  "Back to my friend."

  "Ah, you have a friend! Does he live in Paris?"

  "We got to Paris only this morning."

  "Well, if you haven't a place to lodge in, why don't you come here? Youwill be well taken care of and it's an honest house. If your family gettired of waiting to hear from Barberin they may come here and thenthey'll find you. What I say is for your own interest. What age is yourfriend?"
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  "He is a little younger than I."

  "Just think! two boys on the streets of Paris! You could get into such abad place; now this is real respectable on account of the locality."

  The Hotel du Cantal was one of the dirtiest lodging houses that I hadever seen and I had seen some pretty dirty ones! But what the old womansaid was worth considering, besides we could not be particular. I hadnot found my family in their beautiful Paris mansion yet. Mattia hadbeen right to want to get all the money we could on our way to the city.What should we have done if we had not our seventeen francs in ourpockets?

  "How much will you charge for a room for my friend and myself?" I asked.

  "Ten cents a day. That's not much."

  "Well, we'll come back to-night."

  "Come back early; Paris is a bad place at night for boys," she calledafter me.

  Night was falling. The street lamps were lit. I had a long way to walkto the Cathedral, where I was to meet Mattia. All my high spirits hadvanished. I was very tired and all around me seemed gloomy. In thisgreat Paris full of light and noise I felt so utterly alone. Would Iever find my own people? Was I ever to see my real mother and my realfather? When I reached the Cathedral I had still twenty minutes to waitfor Mattia. I felt this night that I needed his friendship more thanever. What a comfort it was to think that I was going to see him so gay,so kind, such a friend!

  A little before seven I heard a quirk hark, then out of the shadowsjumped Capi! He sprang onto my knees and licked me with his soft wettongue. I hugged him in my arms and kissed his cold nose. It was notlong before Mattia appeared. In a few words I told him that Barberin wasdead and that there was now little hope that I could ever find myfamily. Then he gave me all the sympathy of which I was in need. Hetried to console me and told me not to despair. He wished as sincerelyas I that we could find my parents.

  We returned to the Hotel du Cantal. The next morning I wrote to MotherBarberin to express my grief for her loss and to ask her if she had hadany news from her husband before he died. By return mail she sent meword that her husband had written to her from the hospital, where theyhad taken him, and said that if he did not get better she was to writeto Greth and Galley's, Lincoln Square, London, for they were thelawyers who were looking for me. He told her that she was not to takeany steps until she was sure that he was dead.

  "We must go to London," said Mattia, when I had finished reading theletter that the priest had written for her. "If the lawyers are English,that shows that your parents are English."

  "Oh, I'd rather be the same as Lise and the others. But," I added, "ifI'm English I'll be the same as Mrs. Milligan and Arthur."

  "I'd rather you were Italian," said Mattia.

  In a few minutes our baggage was ready and we were off. It took us eightdays to hike from Paris to Bologne, stopping at the principal towns enroute. When we reached Bologne we had thirty-two francs in our purse. Wetook passage on a cargo boat that was going the next day to London. Whata rough journey we had! Poor Mattia declared that he would never go onthe sea again. When at last we were steaming up the Thames I begged himto get up and see the wonderful sights, but he implored me to let himalone. At last the engine stopped and the ropes were thrown to theground, and we landed in London.

  I knew very little English, but Mattia had picked up quite a great dealfrom an Englishman who had worked with him at the Gassot Circus. When welanded he at once asked a policeman to direct us to Lincoln Square. Itseemed to be a very long way. Many times we thought that we had lostourselves but again upon making inquiries we found that we were goingin the right direction. Finally we reached Temple Bar and a few stepsfurther we came to Green Square.

  My heart heat so quickly when we stood before the door of Greth andGalley's office that I had to ask Mattia to wait a moment until I hadrecovered myself. After Mattia had stated to the clerk my name and mybusiness, we were shown at once into the private office of the head ofthe firm, Mr. Greth. Fortunately this gentleman spoke French, so I wasable to speak to him myself. He questioned me upon every detail of mylife. My answers evidently convinced him that I was the boy he waslooking for, for he told me that I had a family living in London andthat he would send me to them at once.

  "One moment, sir. Have I a father?" I asked, scarcely able to say theword "father."

  "Yes, not only a father, but a mother, brothers and sisters," hereplied.

  "Oh...."

  He touched a bell and a clerk appeared whom he told to take charge ofus.

  "Oh, I had forgotten," said Mr. Greth, "your name is Driscoll; yourfather's name is Mr. John Driscoll."

  In spite of Mr. Greth's ugly face I think I could have jumped at him andhugged him if he had given me time, but with his hand he indicated thedoor and we followed the clerk.