se, remember. Your father
may not be pleased with what we have done.
Never promise what you may not be able to
give, my Beppo." And she fell to musing
again rather uneasily.
The boys were all suddenly silent, and Gigi,
who had warmed to their kindness, felt a
sudden chill. He had not thought of anything
beyond the safety of the moment. He had
made no plans, he had only hoped vaguely
that these good people might help him. But
now, what was to happen next? Was there
still something more to fear?
Suddenly the flash of a lantern lighted the
road ahead. A man's voice hailed them loudly.
"Hello! Hello! Will you never be coming home?"
"Father! It is father!" cried the three boys
in an answering shout. Then with a common
thought they all stopped short, and Gigi felt
them looking at him in the darkness.
"What will he think of Gigi?" he heard
Beppo whisper to his brothers.
"Sh!" warned Mother Margherita. And
the man's voice sounded nearer.
"Hello, old woman!" it called gruffly.
"Well, you did come back, didn't you?
I began to believe that you had all run away."
"Run away!" There was a little pause
before any one answered. And Gigi felt
the elbows of the boys nudging him in the side.
"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.
"Hello!" 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 s
|