“Oh, Mamma, Mamma,” cried one.
Thank God, I saw no more of this frightful torture, for at this moment the door was thrown open and Vitalis entered.
In a glance, he understood all. He had heard the shrieks while climbing the stairs. Running to Ricardo, he snatched the whip from him, then, wheeling round upon Garofoli, he stood before him with folded arms.
It all happened so quickly that, for a moment, I was dumbfounded, but Garofoli quickly recovered himself and said gently:
“Isn’t it terrible? That child has no heart.”
“Shame! It’s a shame!” cried Vitalis.
“That is just what I say,” murmured Garofoli.
“Stop that,” commanded Vitalis; “it’s you, not the child! What a cowardly shame to torture these poor children who cannot defend themselves.”
“Don’t you meddle in what does not concern you, you old fool,” cried Garofoli, changing his tone.
“It concerns the police,” retorted Vitalis.