The San Francisco call., 1905-04-09

the five-year-old fig-seller was set to
watch for her.
He fell from the scaffolding!' said
a voice.
''If it should be little Pasquale.'
cried Teresa. and springing out. ran
quickly forward. Tita waited to Sc
cure the gondola before he followed her.
A sad accident had happened Be-
fore the Gale a platform had been
erected from which spectators might
watch the fiotillas of the carnival
Little Pasquale's delight was a tame
sparrow, whose hame was wicker
cage, and climbing to sun his pet when
he had been left to tend the empty
shop. the child slipped and fallen to the
pavement.
Teresa broke through the circle OF
bystanders and knelt by the tumbled
little body, looking at the tiny face now
so waxen. The neighbors thronged
about. stupefied and hindering. A wo-
man ran to fetch the mother. goSsipinS
with a nefghbor. Another called loud
ly for priest.
The girl, looking up. was bewildered
by the tumult. He must be got in.'
she murmured, half helplessly, for the
people ringed them round.
A voice answered close beside her:
Il will carry him, Signorina"-and a
form she knew bent beside her. and
his arms.
Teresa's heart bounded. Through
these days she had longed to hear that
voice again how vainlyi Now in this
moment she was brought suddenly
close TO him. She ceased to hear the
sounds about her-saw only him. She
sprang up and led the way through
the press, down the close damp Gale
and to the shop where the child lived.
Dog of the VirginI He need touch
no finger to child of mine," swOre
carpenter from the adjoining campo
Nor mine,"
why didn't you carry him in your
self then?" growled Giuseppe, the fruit
vender. standing there like bronze
pig. What have you against the Eng
lishman? Didn't he buy your brother
in-law a new gondola when the piling
smashed it2"
"Scellerato," sneered the carpenter.
why is his face so white? Like a pO-
tato sprout in a cellar, He is so evil
he fears the sum-
The fruit vender turned away dis
dainfully. His foot kicked a shapeless
wicker object-it was little Pasquale's
cage smashed fiat. The sparrow inside
was gasping. He picked up the cage
and carried it to the shop
In the inner. ill-lighted room, Gordon
laid the child on a couch. He had
spoken no further word to Teresa At
the first sight of her, kneelfng in the
street, he had started visibly as he had
done in the forest of La Mira when he
recognized her face as that of the min
iature. Now he was feeling her pres
ence beside him with a curious thrill
not unlike her own-a pleasure deeply
mixed with pain that almost a physical
pang-
Since that dawn walk above the
MI p he ho6
ing strange ways. In the hours that
followed, remorse had been born in
him. And as the first indrawn breath
racks the half-drowned body with
agony greater than that of the death
it has already tasted, so the man had
suffered. During a fortnight, words
written on a sheet Of paper that he
carried in his pocket had rung through
his brain. Day after day, as he sat in
his gloomy palaZZO, he had heard
them; night after night they had float
ed with him as his gondOla bore him
through the waterways ringing with
the eStro of the carnival. To escape
them he had fled again and again to
the black phtal. but when he awOke
the pain was still with him. instinct
and unrenounceable- 1t was more
acute at this moment than it had ever
been.
Teresa scarcely noted the fruit ven
der as he put the battered cage INTO
her hand just before its feathered oc-
cupant breathed it's last. Her look,
fixed on Gordon, was still eloquent
with the surprise. She saw the same
pale face, the same deep eyes, the
same chiseled curve Of lips. His voice.
too. as he dispatched the kind-hearted
Giuseppe for a surgeon on the Riva,
had the same cadence OF sadness. She
had noticed that his step halted as he
walked, as though from weakness
And surely there was illness in his
face. tool Had there been any tender
hands near him-as tender as those
with which he now examined the un-
conscious child?
AS Gordon bent above him little Pas
quale opened his eyes. His gaze fell
first not on the man or on Teresa, but
on the broken cage beside him. where
the bird lay still, one claw standing
stiffiy upright. He tried to lift his
head. and called the sparrow's name.
There was no answering chirp. The
claw was very still.
Then little Pasquale saw the faces
about him and knew what had hap
pened.
He's dead!" he shrilled. and burst
into tears.