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After some hesitation, he determined to apply to a Jew, who, as it was whispered, was ready to buy everything that was offered to him for sale, without making any TROUBLESOME inquiries. It was late; he waited till the streets were cleared, and then knocked softly at the back door of the Jew's house. The person who opened the door for Piedro was his own father.
Piedro's bench was broken, and the public vengeance wreaked itself also upon his treacherous painted board. It was, after being much disfigured by various inscriptions expressive of the universal contempt for Piedro, hung up in a conspicuous part of the market-place; and the false measure was fastened like a cap upon one of its corners.
Numerous instances of the truth of this common observation were remarked by many Neapolitan children, especially by those who were acquainted with the characters and history of Piedro and Francisco, two boys originally equal in birth, fortune and capacity, but different in their education, and consequently in their habits and conduct.
"They are excellent most excellent, and I am much obliged to you, Francisco," said Piedro. "I was very hungry, and that's what I am now, without anybody's caring anything about it. I am not the favourite I was with my father, but I know it is all my own fault."
Piedro, when he saw himself discovered, burst into a loud laugh, and throwing down Dominicho's hat, which he held in his hand behind him, cried, "A pretty set of novices! Most excellent players at hide-and-seek you would make."
"An inch every way; and yet by my eye and I have no bad one, being used to measuring carpenter's work for my father by my eye I should think this would have held more sugar-plums." "The eye often deceives us;" said Piedro. "There's nothing like measuring, you find."
"I have a confused recollection of some such thing," said Piedro, in great embarrassment; and he looked suspiciously at this man, in doubt whether he was cunning, and wanted to sound him, or whether he was so simple as he appeared.
Piedro started back; but his father had fast hold of him. "What brings you here?" said the father, in a low voice, a voice which expressed fear and rage mixed. "Only to ask my way my shortest way," stammered Piedro. "No equivocations! Tell me what brings you here at this time of the night? I WILL know."
"With all my heart," said Piedro, still maintaining an unmoved countenance, and they returned immediately to the little wood-market. On their way, they had passed through the fruit-market, and crowds of those who were well acquainted with Piedro's former transactions followed, to hear the event of the present trial.
His wretched father died some weeks before this time, in a fit of intoxication. Piedro walked up and down the street, scarcely capable of thinking, much less of coming to any rational resolution.
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