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!"