My father then asked why Barberin had not come with me. I told him that he was dead. He seemed pleased to hear this. He repeated it to my mother, who also seemed pleased. Why were they both pleased that Barberin was dead?
"You must be rather surprised that we have not searched for you for thirteen years," said my father, "and then suddenly to go off and look up this man who found you when you were a baby."
I told him that I was very surprised, and that I'd like to know about it.
"Come near the fire then and I'll tell you all about it."
I flung the bag from my shoulders and took the chair that he offered me. As I stretched out my legs, wet, and covered with mud, to the fire my grandfather spat on one side, like an old cat that is annoyed.
"Don't pay any attention to him," said my father; "the old chap doesn't like any one to sit before his fire, but you needn't mind him, if you're cold."
I was surprised to hear any one speak like this of an old man. I kept my legs under my chair, for I thought that attention should be paid to him.
"You are my eldest son now," said my father; "you were born a year after my marriage with your mother. When I married there was a young girl who thought that I was going to marry her, and out of revenge she stole you from us when you were six months old. We searched everywhere for you but we did not go so far as Paris. We thought that you were dead until three months ago when this woman was dying she confessed the truth. I went over to France at once and the police in that locality where you had been left, told me that you had been adopted by a mason named Barberin who lived at Chavanon. I found him and he told me that he had loaned you to a musician named Vitalis and that you were tramping through France. I could not stay over there any longer, but I left Barberin some money and told him to search for you, and when he had news to write to Greth and Galley. I did not give him my address here, because we are only in London during the winter; the rest of the year we travel through England and Scotland. We are peddlers by trade, and I have my own caravans. There, boy, that is how it is you have come back to us after thirteen years. You may feel a little timid at first because you can't understand us, but you'll soon pick up English and be able to talk to your brothers and sisters. It won't be long before you're used to us."
Yes, of course I should get used to them; were they not my own people? The fine baby linen, the beautiful clothes had not spoken the truth. But what did that matter! Affection was worth more than riches. It was not money that I pined for, but to have affection, a family and a home. While my father was talking to me they had set the table for supper. A large joint of roast beef with potatoes round it was placed in the middle of the table.
"Are you hungry, boys?" asked my father, addressing Mattia and myself. Mattia showed his white teeth.