PINOCCHIO IS ARRESTED BY THE GENDARMES
When he arrived on the shore Pinocchio looked out to sea, but he saw no
Dog-Fish. The sea was as smooth as a great crystal mirror.
"Where is the Dog-Fish?" he asked, turning to his companions.
"He must have gone to have his breakfast," said one of them, laughing.
"Or he has thrown himself on to his bed to have a little nap," added
another, laughing still louder.
From their absurd answers and silly laughter Pinocchio perceived that
his companions had been making a fool of him, in inducing him to believe
a tale with no truth in it. Taking it very badly, he said to them
angrily:
"And now, may I ask what fun you could find in deceiving me with the
story of the Dog-Fish?"
"Oh, it was great fun!" answered the little rascals in chorus.
"And in what did it consist?"
"In making you miss school and persuading you to come with us. Are you
not ashamed of being always so punctual and so diligent with your
lessons? Are you not ashamed of studying so hard?"
"And if I study hard, what concern is it of yours?"
"It concerns us excessively, because it makes us appear in a bad light
to the master."
"Why?"
"Because boys who study make those who, like us, have no wish to learn,
seem worse by comparison. And that is too bad. We, too, have our pride!"
"Then what must I do to please you?"
"You must follow our example and hate school, lessons, and the
master--our three greatest enemies."
"And if I wish to continue my studies?"
"In that case we will have nothing more to do with you, and at the first
opportunity we will make you pay for it."
"Really," said the puppet, shaking his head, "you make me inclined to
laugh."
"Eh, Pinocchio" shouted the biggest of the boys, confronting him. "None
of your superior airs: don't come here to crow over us, for if you are
not afraid of us, we are not afraid of you. Remember that you are one
against seven of us."
"Seven, like the seven deadly sins," said Pinocchio, with a shout of
laughter.
"Listen to him! He has insulted us all! He called us the seven deadly
sins!"
"Take that to begin with and keep it for your supper tonight," said one
of the boys.
And, so saying, he gave him a blow on the head with his fist.
But it was give and take; for the puppet, as was to be expected,
immediately returned the blow, and the fight in a moment became general
and desperate.
Pinocchio, although he was one alone, defended himself like a hero. He
used his feet, which were of the hardest wood, to such purpose that he
kept his enemies at a respectful distance. Wherever they touched they
left a bruise by way of reminder.
The boys, becoming furious at not being able to measure themselves hand
to hand with the puppet, had recourse to other weapons. Loosening their
satchels, they commenced throwing their school-books at him--grammars,
dictionaries, spelling-books, geography books, and other scholastic
works. But Pinocchio was quick and had sharp eyes, and always managed to
duck in time, so that the books passed over his head and all fell into
the sea.
Imagine the astonishment of the fish! Thinking that the books were
something to eat they all arrived in shoals, but, having tasted a page
or two, or a frontispiece, they spat it quickly out and made a wry face
that seemed to say: "It isn't food for us; we are accustomed to
something much better!"
The battle meantime had become fiercer than ever, when a big crab, who
had come out of the water and had climbed slowly up on the shore, called
out in a hoarse voice that sounded like a trumpet with a bad cold:
[Illustration: FOUR RABBITS AS BLACK AS INK ENTERED CARRYING A LITTLE
BIER]
"Have done with that, you young ruffians, for you are nothing else!
These hand-to-hand fights between boys seldom finish well. Some disaster
is sure to happen!"
Poor crab! He might as well have preached to the wind. Even that young
rascal, Pinocchio, turning around, looked at him mockingly and said
rudely:
"Hold your tongue, you tiresome crab! You had better suck some liquorice
lozenges to cure that cold in your throat."
Just then the boys, who had no more books of their own to throw, spied
at a little distance the satchel that belonged to Pinocchio, and took
possession of it.
Amongst the books there was one bound in strong cardboard with the back
and points of parchment. It was a Treatise on Arithmetic.
One of the boys seized this volume and, aiming at Pinocchio's head,
threw it at him with all the force he could muster. But instead of
hitting the puppet it struck one of his companions on the temple, who,
turning as white as a sheet, said only:
"Oh, mother! help, I am dying!" and fell his whole length on the sand.
Thinking he was dead, the terrified boys ran off as hard as their legs
could carry them and in a few minutes they were out of sight.
But Pinocchio remained. Although from grief and fright he was more dead
than alive, nevertheless he ran and soaked his handkerchief in the sea
and began to bathe the temples of his poor school-fellow. Crying
bitterly in his despair, he kept calling him by name and saying to him:
"Eugene! my poor Eugene! Open your eyes and look at me! Why do you not
answer? I did not do it; indeed it was not I that hurt you so! believe
me, it was not! Open your eyes, Eugene. If you keep your eyes shut I
shall die, too. Oh! what shall I do? how shall I ever return home? How
can I ever have the courage to go back to my good mamma? What will
become of me? Where can I fly to? Oh! how much better it would have
been, a thousand times better, if I had only gone to school! Why did I
listen to my companions? they have been my ruin. The master said to me,
and my mamma repeated it often: 'Beware of bad companions!' Oh, dear!
what will become of me, what will become of me, what will become of me?"
And Pinocchio began to cry and sob, and to strike his head with his
fists, and to call poor Eugene by his name. Suddenly he heard the sound
of approaching footsteps.
He turned and saw two soldiers.
"What are you doing there, lying on the ground?" they asked Pinocchio.
"I am helping my school-fellow."
"Has he been hurt?"
"So it seems."
"Hurt indeed!" said one of them, stooping down and examining Eugene
closely.
"This boy has been wounded in the temple. Who wounded him?"
"Not I," stammered the puppet breathlessly.
"If it was not you, who then did it?"
"Not I," repeated Pinocchio.
"And with what was he wounded?"
"With this book." And the puppet picked up from the ground the Treatise
on Arithmetic, bound in cardboard and parchment, and showed it to the
soldier.
"And to whom does this belong?"
"To me."
"That is enough, nothing more is wanted. Get up and come with us at
once."
"But I--"
"Come along with us!"
"But I am innocent."
"Come along with us!"
Before they left, the soldiers called some fishermen who were passing at
that moment near the shore in their boat, and said to them:
"We give this boy who has been wounded in the head in your charge. Carry
him to your house and nurse him. Tomorrow we will come and see him."
They then turned to Pinocchio and, having placed him between them, they
said to him in a commanding voice:
"Forward! and walk quickly, or it will be the worse for you."
Without requiring it to be repeated, the puppet set out along the road
leading to the village. But the poor little devil hardly knew where he
was. He thought he must be dreaming, and what a dreadful dream! He was
beside himself. He saw double; his legs shook; his tongue clung to the
roof of his mouth, and he could not utter a word. And yet, in the midst
of his stupefaction and apathy, his heart was pierced by a cruel
thorn--the thought that he would pass under the windows of the good
Fairy's house between the soldiers. He would rather have died.
They had already reached the village when a gust of wind blew
Pinocchio's cap off his head and carried it ten yards off.
"Will you permit me," said the puppet to the soldiers, "to go and get
my cap?"
"Go, then; but be quick about it."
The puppet went and picked up his cap, but instead of putting it on his
head he took it between his teeth and began to run as hard as he could
towards the seashore.
The soldiers, thinking it would be difficult to overtake him, sent after
him a large mastiff who had won the first prizes at all the dog races.
Pinocchio ran, but the dog ran faster. The people came to their windows
and crowded into the street in their anxiety to see the end of the
desperate race.
[Illustration]