There are three principal landings to the Spanish Steps, and the great
little man of seven had reached the second of them when a noise in the
streets below made him stop and turn his head.
A great crowd, carrying hundreds of torches, was marching into the
piazza. They were singing, shouting, and blowing whistles and trumpets.
It was like Befana in the Piazza Navona, and when Joseph blinked his
eyes he almost thought he was at home in bed.
All at once silence--then soldiers--then a jump all over his body like
that which came to him when he was falling asleep--then a sense of
something warm--then a buzzing noise--then a boom like that of the gun
of St. Angelo at dinner-time ... then a deep, familiar voice calling and
calling to him, and his eyes opened for a moment and saw his father's
face.
"Good-night, papa! So sleepy! See you in the morning!"
And then nothing more.
* * * * *
While Elena waited for Bruno's return with little Joseph, she went up
and downstairs between David Rossi's apartment and her own on all manner
of invented errands. Meantime she tried to keep down her anxiety by
keeping up her anger. Joseph was so worrisome. When he came home he
would have to be whipped and sent to bed without his supper. It was true
his verdura was already on the stove, but he must not be allowed to
touch it. You really must be strict with children. They would like you
all the better for it when they grew up to be men and women.
But every moment broke down this brave severity, until the desire to
punish Joseph for his disobedience was all gone. She stood at the head
of the stairs and listened for his voice and his little pattering feet.
If she had heard them, her anxious expression would have given way to a
cross look and she would have scolded both father and son all the way up
to bed. But they did not come, and she turned to the dining-room with a
downcast face.
"Where can the boy be? If I could only have him back! I will never let
him out of my sight again. Never!"
David Rossi, who was walking in the sitting-room to calm his nerves
after a trying time, tried to comfort her. It would be all right. Depend
upon it, Joseph had gone up to Donna Roma's. She was to remember what
Bruno told them on Sunday. "The little Roman boy." Joseph had thought of
nothing else for three days, and this being his birthday....
"You think so? You really think...."