Jeli said nothing, but at that instant all that he had enjoyed till then changed into poison, and he began once more to think of his misfortunes, which he had for the moment forgotten—that he was without an employer—and knew not what to do, nor where to go, that he had no food or shelter; that the dogs might eat him as they were eating the poor stellato left down in the bottom of the ravine, skinned to the hoofs!
Meantime, around him the people were still making merry in the darkness that had ensued; Mara, with her companions, was dancing and singing through the rock-paved streets as they turned homeward.
"Good-night! Good-night—buona notte!" shouted the people to one another, as they were left at their own doors. Mara shouted "good-night—buona notte!" in her musical voice, and it expressed her happiness, and massaro Neri's son did not see fit to leave her while massaro Agrippino and gnà Lia were disputing about the opening of the house door. No one gave Jeli a thought, till at last massaro Agrippino remembered him, and said,—
"And where are you going?"
"I don't know," said Jeli.
"Come and see me to-morrow and I will help you find a place. For to-night, go back to the square where we have been hearing the band play. You'll find a spot on some bench, and sleep out doors; you must be used to that."
Jeli was used to that, but what pained him was that Mara said nothing to him, but left him there at the door as if he were a beggar; and the next day when he came back to see massaro Agrippino, he was hardly alone with the girl before he said to her,—
"Oh, gnà Mara! How you forget old friends!"
"Oh, is that you, Jeli?" replied Mara. "No, I haven't forgotten you. But I was so tired after the fireworks!"
"You're in love with him aren't you—massaro Neri's son?" demanded Jeli, twirling his staff in his hands.