Even in that small anticipation she was not disappointed.  It was a new joy to be able to look from her window into the dark entry that led to the place where Zorzi was.  To-morrow, or the next day, he would perhaps come to the door, helped by Pasquale, but to-morrow morning she would go and see him, come what might.  She was not afraid of her brother Giovanni, and it might be long before her father came back.  Till then, at all events, she would do what she thought right, no matter how Nella might be scandalised.

Nella came back, and said that Zorzi was better, that he had slept all the afternoon and now had very little pain, and he was not in any anxiety about the furnace, for Pasquale had kept the fire burning properly all day.  Zorzi had begged Nella to deliver a message of thanks.

“Try and remember just what he told you,” said Marietta.

“There was nothing especial,” answered Nella with exasperating indifference.  “He said that I was to thank you very much.  Something like that—­nothing else.”

“I am sure that those were not his words.  Why did you forget them?”

“If it had been an account of money spent, I should remember it exactly,” answered Nella.  “A pennyworth of thread, beeswax a farthing, so much for needles; I should forget nothing.  But when a man says ’I thank you,’ what is there to remember?  But you are never satisfied!  Nella may work her hands to the bone for you, Nella may run errands for you till she is lame, you are never pleased with what Nella does!  It is always the same.”

She tossed her brown head to show that she was offended.  But Marietta laughed softly and patted the little woman’s cheek affectionately.

“You are a dear little old angel,” she said.

Nella was pacified.

CHAPTER XI

The porter kept his word, and took good care of Zorzi.  When the night boys had come, he carried him into the inner room and put him to bed like a child.  Zorzi asked him to tell the boys to wake him at the watches, as they had done on the previous night, and Pasquale humoured him, but when he went away he wisely forgot to give the message, and the lads, who knew that he had been hurt, supposed that he was not to be disturbed.  It was broad daylight when he awoke and saw Pasquale standing beside him.

“Are the boys gone already?” he asked, almost as he opened his eyes.

“No, they are all asleep in a corner,” answered the porter.

“Asleep!” cried Zorzi, in sudden anxiety.  “Wake them, Pasquale, and see whether the sand-glass has been turned and is running, and whether the fire is burning.  The young good-for-nothings!”

“I will wake them,” answered Pasquale.  “I supposed that they were allowed to sleep after daylight.”

A moment later Zorzi heard him apostrophising the three lads with his usual vigour of language.  Judging from the sounds that accompanied the words he was encouraging their movements by other means also.  Presently one of the three set up a howl.