When they were dressed they were supplied with a frugal breakfast—a piece of bread and cheese each; their instruments were given them, and they were started off for a long day of toil.
Phil looked around for Giacomo, who had slept in a different room, but he was not to be seen.
“Is Giacomo sick this morning, Pietro?” he asked of the padrone’s nephew.
“He pretends to be sick, little drone!” said Pietro, unfeelingly. “If I were the padrone, I would let him taste the stick again.”
Phil felt that he would like to see the brutal speaker suffering the punishment he wanted inflicted on him; but he knew Pietro’s power and malice too well to give utterance to the wish. A longing came to him to see Giacomo before he went out. He might have had a secret presentiment of what was coming.
“Signor Pietro,” he said, “may I see Giacomo before I go out?”
This request would have been refused without doubt, but that Pietro felt flattered at being addressed as signor, to which his years did not yet entitle him. Phil knew this, and therefore used the title.
“What do you want to see him for?” he asked, suspiciously.
“I want to ask him how he feels.”
“Yes, you can go in. Tell him he must get up to-morrow. The padrone will not let him spend his time in idleness.”