John of the Woods | Page 8

There was no room for Gigi in the loft where the family slept. But out
in the stable, beside the oxen, was a fresh pile of straw, a fine bed for
the tired little wanderer. When Mother Margherita had bidden him a
kind good-night and had closed the stable door behind her, Gigi threw
himself upon the straw and was almost Instantly asleep. The oxen
breathed gently beside him, chewing their cud. Everything was still and
peaceful. And the night passed.
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" crowed the first cock, speaking the same tongue
that he learned at the beginning of the world, and that he always uses in
every land, among every people.
It was but a few moments later when Gigi was awakened suddenly by a
touch on his shoulder. The boy opened his eyes and stared about,
bewildered. He did not know where he was. Who was this bending over
him in the dim light? Not Tonio; not Cecco; not the Giant? Then he
recognized Mother Margherita, stooping low with a pitiful expression
on her face. She had a little bundle in her hand.
"Get up, Gigi," she whispered. "You must be off. My man is so angry!
He vows he will take you to the village to-day and give you up to your
masters. He thinks you are a thief, Gigi. But I do not believe that you
stole the silver piece."
"The silver piece!" cried Gigi, still more bewildered.
"Sh!" cautioned the woman, laying a hand on his lips. "Giuseppe must
not know that I am here. He sleeps still. When we counted the money
in the bag we found it short by one piece of silver, besides the one I
gave you. That was my own to do with as I chose. But he believes that
you stole another when you were holding the bag for me, hiding under
my skirts."
"I did not take it!" cried Gigi, wide-awake now. "Oh, I would not steal
from you,--not from you, the only person who was ever kind to me!"
"There, there! I told him so!" said the good woman soothingly. "I told
him I must have lost it at the market when I was making change for
somebody. But he will not believe. You must be off, Gigi, before he
wakes, or you will have to go back to those cruel fellows. Giuseppe is
so set! Like a mule he is when he is angry!"

Gigi sprang to his feet and looked wildly around. "Where shall I go?
What shall I do?" he asked.
Mother Margherita looked at the pale little lad and her eyes filled.
"Poor little fellow!" she sighed. "Suppose you were one of my boys,
Beppo or Paolo! But we must lose no time"; and she dashed the tears
from her eyes. "Here is your cloak to hide that gaudy dress. And here is
a bundle of food,--all I could spare without the good man's knowledge.
For it must seem that you have run away of your own accord. I know
that will make him sure that you are a thief. But I dare not let him guess
that I have warned you and helped you to escape. You do not know
Giuseppe's anger!--Farewell, dear little lad, and may the Saints have
you in their keeping."
She led him to the door and pointed out the direction, in the gray dawn.
She showed him where, to the north, by a great tree, a lane branched
from the highroad. "Follow that," she said. "It will be safer in case you
are pursued. And it comes at last to the great road into another country.
There perhaps you will be safe and find friends who can help you more
than I have done. Though none can wish you better." And she hugged
him close. "Farewell, Gigi!"

VII
THE WANDERER
With a lump in his throat, Gigi left the only roof that had ever shown
him kindness. In the gray dawn he crept out to the highroad. There was
no time to be lost, for already the east was growing pink, and soon the
sun would be making long shadows on the open road. Giuseppe would
surely spy him and bring him back.
As soon as he was outside the farm enclosure, Gigi began to run. But
he found that he was stiff and sore from his fall of the day before, and
from the many beatings which he had received of late. Every bone in
his body ached, and especially his head, which throbbed so as to make
him faint. Still he ran on. For more than anything else he feared being
captured and sent back to the Gypsies.
At last Gigi came to the great tree where branched the cross-road to the
north. Here he turned aside.