The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1914-02-12

!
friend-my best friend" he explained
gently.
"Will the signor take the doctors
medicine?" Battista asked then, not
much noticing the words, for the sick
man was clearly light-headed, yet with
certain pleasant throb of memory
which always moved within him at the
name Of Pietro. 1t happened that the
name stood for some one dear to the
jailer also. The signor took the medi-
cine at once, like good child.
"Will it make me better, do you
think, Battista?" he asked earnestly.
"But yes, signor; the doctor is
clever"
81 want to be better; 1 must get
WELL for l have work to do as soon
as come out of prison"
Surely, signor. That will be soon
now, l think, for 1t is five years; they
will let you go soon. believe" Bat
tista lied kindly.
"You are good to me, Battista," the
boy said, land just now you gave me
great pleasure. 1t warns me yet to
think of it, for, you see, thought you
were Pietro-my dear Pietro-the
Marquis Zappi."
Battista, breathless, stared, STAN
mered. 'Whom-whom did you say,
signor?"
! But the prisoner had flashed into
reason. The color went out of his face
as the tide ebbs. "Battista, did l say
name? Battista-you will not betray
me--you will not repeat that name?
would never have said it but that |
was not quite steady. l must have
been out of my head; l have never
spoken his name before in this place.
Oh, if should bring danger to him!
Battista, for Gods sake, you will not
repeat that name?"
Battista spoke low, glancing at the
heavy iron door of the cell. "God for
bid, signor," he whispered, "that I
should speak, here in his own castle,
the name of my young master"
There was long silence. The pris-
oner and his jailer gazed at each other
as If saying things beyond words.
Then the boy put out his long hot fin
gers and caught the mans sleeve.
"Battista," he murmured, "Battista
is that true? Is it possible? Do you
know-my Pietro?"
know him, signor?" Battista's deep
voice was unsteady. my fathers have
served his for eight hundred years"
The man was shaking with a loyalty
long pent up, but Francois lifted his
head, leaned on his elbow, and looked
at him thoughtfully.
But, Battista, / know you now: he
has spoken to me of you; it was your
son, the little Battista, who was his
body-servant when they were chill"
dren?"
Yes, signor"
Il did not dream of it; never knew
what castle this was; l never dreamed
of Castleforte; you would not tell me-"
Il could not, signor. 1t was forbid.
den. 1t is forbidden. I am riskins
my life every minute"
GO, Battista," and Francois pushed
him away with weak hands. GO quick
ly-you have been here too long.
There might be suspicion. could NOS
live if l brought trouble on you"
1T is right so far, signor," Battista
answered. 1T is known you are ill;
must care for the sick ones a little.
But had better go now"
With that he slipped to his knees
and lifted the feverish hands to his
lips. "The friend of my young mas
ter" he said simply, but his voice
broke on the words. The traditional
faithfulness of centuries was strong in
Battista; the Zappis had been good
masters; one had been cared for and
contented always; one was terrorized
and ground down by these Austrian
swine;;" the memory of the old mas.
ters, the personality of anyone con.
nected with them, was sacred. BATHS
ia bowed his head over the hands in
his own, then he stood up.
81 shall be back at bedtime, signor,"
he said quietly, and was gone.
CTO BE CoNTINUED.)