but this is my father and mother, and I must stay with them. It is my family."
"Your family! That man who steals, your father! That drunken woman your mother!"
"Don't you dare say so, Mattia," I cried, springing up from my seat; "you are speaking of my father and mother and I must respect them and love them."
"Yes, so you should if they are your people, but ...are they?"
"You forget their many proofs."
"You don't resemble your father or your mother. Their children are all fair, while you are dark. And then how is it they could spend so much money to find a child? Put all these things together and in my opinion you are not a Driscoll. You might write to Mother Barberin and ask her to tell you just what the clothes were like that you wore when you were found. Then ask that man you call your father to describe the clothes his baby had on when it was stolen. Until then I shan't move."
"But suppose one day Mattia gets a bang on his poor head?"
"That would not be so hard if he received the blow for a friend," he said, smiling.
We did not return to the Red Lion Court until night. My father and mother passed no remark upon our absence. After supper my father drew two chairs to the fireside, which brought a growl from my grandfather, and then asked us to tell him
