"She'll like what I have brought her," she took pleasure in thinking as she approached the spot where they had camped for the night. She saw no signs of Pappina astir. "She's still asleep, tired out, poor baby! I'm so glad Guiseppe let her rest."
She smiled on the friendly tree as she neared its welcome shade. She peeped around the trunk; no one was there. Down went the bowl of milk with a crash to the ground.
"Pappina gone!" She stood speechless and terrified. Recovering herself, she ran through the bushes, crying: "Pappina, Pappina, Pappina! Where are you, carina?"
No answer came to her cries.
"Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" she moaned as she ran to and fro, wringing her hands. "What will Guiseppe say? How can I tell him Pappina is gone? He'll say it is all my fault. How can I endure his rage and disappointment? And my Pappina!—oh, I should not care for Guiseppe's anger if I knew she was safe."
Poor Marta! For the first time in years she gave way to tears. Her whole frame shook with sobs.
Guiseppe, meanwhile, having finished his meal, was growing impatient at Marta's delay. The streets were filling with people.
"What detains them?" he asked himself. Then the thought occurred to him that perhaps Marta's warning had come true and the child was sick again. "God forbid that she is ill!" the man ejaculated as he piously crossed himself.