d to know his way, pushed through the groups of people
who obstructed his passage along the narrow street we had just turned
down.

"Mind, you don't lose me," cautioned Vitalis.

But his warning was not necessary, for I trod upon his heels, and to be
more sure of him I held a corner of his coat in my hand.

We crossed a big courtyard to a dirty, dismal house where surely the sun
had never penetrated. It was the worst looking place I had seen so far.

"Is Garofoli in?" asked Vitalis of a man who, by the light from a
lantern, was hanging rags against the door.

"I don't know; go up and see for yourself," he growled; "the door's at
the top of the stairs; it faces you."

"Garofoli is the _padrone_, Remi, I told you about," said Vitalis; "this
is where he lives."

The street, the house, the staircase was not in the nature to reassure
me. What would this new master be like?

Without knocking, Vitalis pushed open the door at the top of the stairs,
on the top floor, and we found ourselves in a large attic. There was a
great empty space in the middle of the room, and all around the walls
were beds, a dozen in all. The walls and ceiling that had once been
white were now filthy with smoke, dust, and dirt. On the walls was a
drawing of a head in charcoal and some flowers and birds.

"Are you there, Garofoli?" asked Vitalis; "it is so dark I can't see any
one. It's Vitalis."

A weak, drawling voice replied to Vitalis' question.

"Signor Garofoli has gone out; he will not be back for two hours."

A boy about twelve years of age came forward. I was struck by his
strange looks. Even now, as I write, I can see him as I saw him then. He
had no body, so to speak, for he seemed all legs and head. His great
head was out of all proportion. Built so, he could not have been called
handsome, yet there was something in his face which attracted one
strangely, an expression of sadness and gentleness and, yes ...
hopelessness. His large eyes held your own with sympathy.

"You are sure he will not be back for two hours?" asked Vitalis.

"Quite sure, Signor. That will be dinner time, and no one ever serves
dinner but Signor Garofoli."

"Well, if he comes in before, tell him that Vitalis will be back in two
hours."

"Very well, Signor."

I was about to follow Vitalis, when he stopped me.

"Stay here," he said; "you can rest.

"Oh, I'll come back," he added, reassuringly, noticing my look of
anxiety.

"Are you Italian?" asked