Nobody's Boy (1878)

POOR VITALIS

While we were in the street Vitalis said not a word, but soon we came to a narrow alley and he sat down on a mile-stone and passed his hand several times across his forehead.

"It may be fine to listen to the voice of generosity," he said, as though speaking to himself, "but now we're in the gutters of Paris, without a sou; not a bite to eat.... Are you hungry?" he asked, looking up at me.

"I haven't eaten anything since that little roll you gave me this morning."

"Poor, poor child, and you'll have to go to bed to-night without supper. And where are we going to sleep?"

"Did you count on sleeping at Garofoli's, then?"

"I counted upon you sleeping there, and as he would have given me twenty francs for you for the winter, I could have managed for the time being. But, seeing the way he treated those children, I could not give you to him."

"Oh, you are so good!"

"Perhaps in this old, hardened vagabond there is still a bit of the young man's heart left. This old vagabond calculated shrewdly, but the young man still in him upset all.... Now, where to go?" he murmured.

It was already late and the cold had increased. It was going to be a hard night. For a long time Vitalis sat on the stone. Capi and I stood silently before, waiting until he had come to some decision. Finally he rose.

"Where are we going?"

"To Gentilly, to try and find a race-course where I've slept sometimes. Are you tired?"

"I rested at Garofoli's."

"The pity is that I haven't rested, and I can't do much more. But we must get along. Forward! March! Children!"

This was his good humor signal for the dogs and myself when we were about to start, but this night he said it sadly.

Here we were, wandering in the streets of Paris; the night was dark and the gas jets, which flickered in the wind, lit the alleys but dimly. At each step we slipped on the ice-covered pavement. Vitalis held me by the hand, and Capi followed at our heels. From time to time, the poor dog stopped behind to look amongst a heap of garbage to see if he could find a bone or a crust, for he was oh, so hungry, but the garbage was covered with frozen snow and he searched in vain. With drooping ears he trotted on to catch up with us.

After the big streets, more alleys; after the alleys, more big streets; we walked on, and on; the few pedestrians that we met stared at us in astonishment. Was it our costumes? Was it the tired way we plodded along which arrested their attention? The policemen that we passed turned round and followed us with a glance.

Without saying a word, Vitalis tramped on, his back almost bent double, but despite the cold, his hand burned in mine. It seemed to me that he was trembling. Sometimes, when he stopped to lean for a minute against my shoulder, I felt all his body shaken with trembling. Ordinarily, I would not dare to have questioned him, but I felt I must to-night. Besides, I had a great wish to tell him how much I loved him or, at least, that I wanted to do something for him.

"You are ill?" I said, when he stopped again.

"I'm afraid so; anyway, I'm very tired. This cold is too severe for my old blood. I need a good bed and a supper before a fire. But that's a dream. Forward! March! Children."

Forward! March! We had left the city behind us; we were now in the suburbs. We saw no people or policemen or street lights, only a lighted window here and there, and over our heads the dark-blue sky dotted with a few stars. The wind, which blew more bitter and more violently, stuck our clothing to our bodies. Fortunately, it was at our backs, but as the sleeves of my coat were all torn near the shoulders, it blew in and slipped along my arms, chilling me to the bone.