"No, signore," answered Pietro. "Filippo has not come in."

"Do you think he has run away?" asked the padrone, suspiciously.

"I don't know," said Pietro.

"Have you any reason to think he intended to run away?"

"No," said Pietro.

"I should not like to lose him. He brings me more money than most of the boys."

"He may come in yet."

"When he does," said the padrone, frowning, "I will beat him for being so late. Is there any boy that he would be likely to tell, if he meant to run away?"

"Yes," said Pietro, with a sudden thought, "there is Giacomo."

"The sick boy?"

"Yes. Filippo went in this morning to speak to him. He might have told him then."

"That is true. I will go and ask him."

Giacomo still lay upon his hard pallet, receiving very little attention.

His fever had increased, and he was quite sick. He rolled from one side to the other in his restlessness. He needed medical attention, but the padrone was indifferent, and none of the boys would have dared to call a doctor without his permission. As he lay upon his bed, the padrone entered the room with a hurried step.

"Where is Giacomo?" he demanded, harshly.

"Here I am, signore padrone," answered the little boy, trembling, as he always did when addressed by the tyrant.

"Did Filippo come and speak with you this morning, before he went out?"

"Si, signore."

"What did he say?"

"He asked me how I felt."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I felt sick."

"Nothing more?"

"I told him I thought I should die.'

"Nonsense!" said the padrone, harshly; "you are a coward. You have a little cold, that is all. Did he say anything about running away?"

"No, signore."

"Don't tell me a lie!" said the tyrant, frowning.

"I tell you the truth, signore padrone. Has not Filippo come home?"

"No."

"I do not think he has run away," said the little boy.

"Why not?"

"I think he would tell me."

"So you two are friends, are you?"

"Si, signore; I love Filippo," answered Giacomo, speaking the last words tenderly, and rather to himself than to the padrone. He looked up to Phil, though little older than himself, with a mixture of respect and devotion, leaning upon him as the weak are p.r.o.ne to lean upon the strong.

"Then you will be glad to hear," said the padrone, with a refinement of cruelty, "that I shall beat him worse than last night for staying out so late."

"Don't beat him, padrone," pleaded Giacomo, bursting into tears.

"Perhaps he cannot come home."

"Did he ever speak to you of running away?" asked the padrone, with a sudden thought.

Giacomo hesitated. He could not truthfully deny that Filippo had done so, but he did not want to get his friend into trouble. He remained silent, looking up at the tyrant with troubled eyes.

"Why do you not speak? Did you hear my question?" asked the padrone, with a threatening gesture.

Had the question been asked of some of the other boys present, they would not have scrupled to answer falsely; but Giacomo had a religious nature, and, neglected as he had been, he could not make up his mind to tell a falsehood. So, after a pause, he faltered out a confession that Phil had spoken of flight.

"Do you hear that, Pietro?" said the padrone, turning to his nephew.

"The little wretch has doubtless run away."

"Shall I look for him to-morrow?" asked Pietro, with alacrity, for to him it would be a congenial task to drag Phil home, and witness the punishment.

"Yes, Pietro. I will tell you where to go in the morning. We must have him back, and I will beat him so that he will not dare to run away again."

The padrone would have been still more incensed could he have looked into Mrs. Hoffman's room and seen the little fiddler the center of a merry group, his brown face radiant with smiles as he swept the chords of his violin. It was well for Phil that he could not see him.

CHAPTER XVIII

PHIL ELUDES HIS PURSUER

Phil had already made up his mind where to go. Just across the river was New Jersey, with its flourishing towns and cities, settled to a large extent by men doing business in New York. The largest of these cities was Newark, only ten miles distant. There Phil decided to make his first stop. If he found himself in danger of capture he could easily go farther. This plan Paul approved, and it was to be carried into execution immediately.

"I will go down to the Cortlandt Street Ferry with you, Phil," said Paul.