Wednesday, 4th.
MY father was right; the master was in a bad humor because he was not
well; for the last three days, in fact, the assistant has been coming in
his stead,--that little man, without a beard, who seems like a youth. A
shameful thing happened this morning. There had been an uproar on the
first and second days, in the school, because the assistant is very
patient and does nothing but say, "Be quiet, be quiet, I beg of you."
But this morning they passed all bounds. Such a noise arose, that his
words were no longer audible, and he admonished and besought; but it was
a mere waste of breath. Twice the head-master appeared at the door and
looked in; but the moment he disappeared the murmur increased as in a
market. It was in vain that Derossi and Garrone turned round and made
signs to their comrades to be good, so that it was a shame. No one paid
any heed to them. Stardi alone remained quiet, with his elbows on the
bench, and his fists to his temples, meditating, perhaps, on his famous
library; and Garoffi, that boy with the hooked nose and the
postage-stamps, who was wholly occupied in making a catalogue of the
subscribers at two centesimi each, for a lottery for a pocket inkstand.
The rest chattered and laughed, pounded on the points of pens fixed in
the benches, and snapped pellets of paper at each other with the
elastics of their garters.
The assistant grasped now one, now another, by the arm, and shook him;
and he placed one of them against the wall--time wasted. He no longer
knew what to do, and he entreated them. "Why do you behave like this? Do
you wish me to punish you by force?" Then he thumped the little table
with his fist, and shouted in a voice of wrath and lamentation,
"Silence! silence! silence!" It was difficult to hear him. But the
uproar continued to increase. Franti threw a paper dart at him, some
uttered cat-calls, others thumped each other on the head; the
hurly-burly was indescribable; when, all of a sudden, the beadle entered
and said:--
"Signor Master, the head-master has sent for you." The master rose and
went out in haste, with a gesture of despair. Then the tumult began more
vigorously than ever. But suddenly Garrone sprang up, his face all
convulsed, and his fists clenched, and shouted in a voice choked with
rage:--
"Stop this! You are brutes! You take advantage of him because he is
kind. If he were to bruise your bones for you, you would be as abject as
dogs. You are a pack of cowards! The first one of you that jeers at him
again, I shall wait for outside, and I will break his teeth,--I swear
it,--even under the very eyes of his father!"
All became silent. Ah, what a fine thing it was to see Garrone, with his
eyes darting flames! He seemed to be a furious young lion. He stared at
the most daring, one after the other, and all hung their heads. When the
assistant re-entered, with red eyes, not a breath was audible. He stood
in amazement; then, catching sight of Garrone, who was still all fiery
and trembling, he understood it all, and he said to him, with accents of
great affection, as he might have spoken to a brother, "I thank you,
Garrone."