It was broad daylight when he awoke and saw Pasquale standing
beside him.
"Are the boys gone already?" he asked, almost as he opened his eyes.
"No, they are all asleep in a corner," answered the porter.
"Asleep!" cried Zorzi, in sudden anxiety. "Wake them, Pasquale, and see
whether the sand-glass has been turned and is running, and whether the
fire is burning. The young good-for-nothings!"
"I will wake them," answered Pasquale. "I supposed that they were
allowed to sleep after daylight."
A moment later Zorzi heard him apostrophising the three lads with his
usual vigour of language. Judging from the sounds that accompanied the
words he was encouraging their movements by other means also. Presently
one of the three set up a howl.
"Oh, you sons of snails and codfish, I will teach you!" growled
Pasquale; and he proceeded to teach them, till they were all three
howling at once.
Zorzi knew that they deserved a beating, but he was naturally
tender-hearted.
"Pasquale!" he called out. "Let them alone! Let them make up the fire!"
Pasquale came back, and the yells subsided.
"I have knocked their empty heads together," he observed. "They will not
sleep for a week. Yes, the sand-glass has run out, but the fire is not
very low.
Pages:
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214