Gigi's face fell. "Very well," he said. "Good-by. You were kind to
me to-day, and I thought--perhaps--" He turned away, with his lips
quivering.

"Stay!" cried the woman. "Where is the silver piece which I gave you?
You can at least buy food and a night's lodging with that."

"They took it from me," said Gigi. "I had to give it up because there
was so little money in the tambourine,--only coppers. They said people
would not pay because I fell; and so they would beat me again."

"They took it from you! The thieves!" cried the woman angrily. "Nay,
then I will indeed help you to escape. Climb in here, boy, among my
youngsters. We have still an hour's ride down the road, and you shall
go so far at least."

Gigi climbed into the cart and nestled down among the children. The
woman clucked to the oxen, and forthwith they moved on down the
highroad. The shadows were beginning to darken, and the birds had
ceased to sing.

"Hiew! Hiew! Come up! Come up!" the woman urged on the great white
oxen. "It is growing late, and the good man will wonder why we are so
long returning from market. This has been our holiday," she explained
to Gigi. "And to think that the Tumblers should have happened to come
to the market this very day! The children will never forget!"

Beppo had been staring at Gigi with fascinated eyes. "How did you
learn?" he asked suddenly. "Could I do it too?"