During our wanderings I had met several _padrones_ who used to beat the children who worked for them. They were very cruel, and they swore, and usually they were drunk. Would I belong to one of those terrible men? And then, even if fate gave me a kind master, it was another change. First, my foster mother, then Vitalis, then another.... Was it to be always so? Should I never find anyone that I could love and stay with always? Little by little I had grown attached to Vitalis. He seemed almost what I thought a father would be. Should I never have a father, have a family? Always alone in this great world! Nobody's boy! Vitalis had asked me to be brave. I did not wish to add to his sorrows, but it was hard, so hard, to leave him. As we walked down a dirty street, with heaps of snow on either side covered with cinders and rotten vegetables, I asked: "Where are we?" "In Paris, my boy." Where were my marble houses? And the trees of gold, and the finely dressed people. Was this Paris! Was I to spend the winter in a place like this, parted from Vitalis and Capi? CHAPTER XVI THE PADRONE Although I knew later how beautiful was the city of Paris, the slums, being my first glimpse, created anything but a favorable impression. Vitalis, who seemed to know his way, pushed through the groups of people who obstructed his passage along the narrow street we had just turned down. "Mind, you don't lose me," cautioned Vitalis. But his warning was not necessary, for I trod upon his heels, and to be more sure of him I held a corner of his coat in my hand. We crossed a big courtyard to a dirty, dismal house where surely the sun had never penetrated. It was the worst looking place I had seen so far. "Is Garofoli in?" asked Vitalis of a man who, by the light from a lantern, was hanging rags against the door. "I don't know; go up and see for yourself," he growled; "the door's at the top of the stairs; it faces you." "Garofoli is the _padrone_, Remi, I told you about," said Vitalis; "this is where he lives." The street, the house, the staircase was not in the nature to reassure me. What would this new master be like? Without knocking, Vitalis pushed open the door at the top of the stairs, on the top floor, and we found ourselves in a large attic. There was a great empty space in the middle of the room, and all around the walls were beds, a dozen in all. The walls and ceiling that had once been white were now filthy with smoke, dust, and dirt. On the walls was a drawing of a head in charcoal and some flowers and birds. "Are you there, Garofoli?" asked Vitalis; "it is so dark I can't see any one. It's Vitalis." A weak, drawling voice replied to Vitalis' question. "Signor Garofoli has gone out; he will not be back for two hours."