"Villains!" said the Fox.

"Infamous villains!" repeated the Cat.

"But I ran away from them," continued the puppet, "and they followed
me, and at last they overtook me and hung me to a branch of that
oak-tree."

And Pinocchio pointed to the Big Oak, which was two steps from them.

"Is it possible to hear of anything more dreadful?" said the Fox. "In
what a world we are condemned to live! Where can respectable people
like us find a safe refuge?"

Whilst they were thus talking Pinocchio observed that the Cat was lame
of her front right leg, for in fact she had lost her paw with all its
claws. He therefore asked her:

"What have you done with your paw!"

The Cat tried to answer but became confused. Therefore the Fox said
immediately:

"My friend is too modest, and that is why she doesn't speak. I will
answer for her. I must tell you that an hour ago we met an old wolf on
the road, almost fainting from want of food, who asked alms of us. Not
having so much as a fish-bone to give to him, what did my friend, who
has really the heart of a Caesar, do? She bit off one of her forepaws,
and threw it to that poor beast that he might appease his hunger."

And the Fox, in relating this, dried a tear.

Pinocchio was also touched, and approaching the Cat he whispered into
her ear:

"If all cats resemble you, how fortunate the mice would be!"

"And now, what are you doing here?" asked the Fox of the puppet.

"I am waiting for my papa, whom I expect to arrive every moment."

"And your gold pieces?"

"I have got them in my pocket, all but one that I spent at the Inn of
the Red-Crawfish."

"And to think that, instead of four pieces, by to-morrow they might
become one or two thousand! Why do you not listen to my advice? why
will you not go and bury them in the Field of Miracles?"

"To-day it is impossible, I will go another day."

"Another day it will be too late!" said the Fox.

"Why?"

"Because the field has been bought by a gentleman, and after to-morrow
no one will be allowed to bury money there."

"How far off is the Field of Miracles?"

"Not two miles. Will you come with us? In half an hour you will be
there. You can bury your money at once, and in a few minutes you
will collect two thousand, and this evening you will return with your
pockets full. Will you come with us?"

Pinocchio thought of the good Fairy, old Geppetto, and the warning of
the Talking-cricket, and he hesitated a little before answeri