CHAPTER 14
Pinocchio, not having listened to the good advice of the Talking
Cricket, falls into the hands of the Assassins.
“Dear, oh, dear! When I come to think of it,” said the Marionette to
himself, as he once more set out on his journey, “we boys are really
very unlucky. Everybody scolds us, everybody gives us advice, everybody
warns us. If we were to allow it, everyone would try to be father and
mother to us; everyone, even the Talking Cricket. Take me, for example.
Just because I would not listen to that bothersome Cricket, who knows
how many misfortunes may be awaiting me! Assassins indeed! At least I
have never believed in them, nor ever will. To speak sensibly, I think
assassins have been invented by fathers and mothers to frighten children
who want to run away at night. And then, even if I were to meet them
on the road, what matter? I’ll just run up to them, and say, ‘Well,
signori, what do you want? Remember that you can’t fool with me! Run
along and mind your business.’ At such a speech, I can almost see those
poor fellows running like the wind. But in case they don’t run away, I
can always run myself. . .”
Pinocchio was not given time to argue any longer, for he thought he
heard a slight rustle among the leaves behind him.
He turned to look and behold, there in the darkness stood two big black
shadows, wrapped from head to foot in black sacks. The two figures
leaped toward him as softly as if they were ghosts.
“Here they come!” Pinocchio said to himself, and, not knowing where to
hide the gold pieces, he stuck all four of them under his tongue.
He tried to run away, but hardly had he taken a step, when he felt his
arms grasped and heard two horrible, deep voices say to him: “Your money
or your life!”
On account of the gold pieces in his mouth, Pinocchio could not say
a word, so he tried with head and hands and body to show, as best he
could, that he was only a poor Marionette without a penny in his pocket.
“Come, come, less nonsense, and out with your money!” cried the two
thieves in threatening voices.
Once more, Pinocchio’s head and hands said, “I haven’t a penny.”
“Out with that money or you’re a dead man,” said the taller of the two
Assassins.
“Dead man,” repeated the other.
“And after having killed you, we will kill your father also.”
“Your father also!”
“No, no, no, not my Father!” cried Pinocchio, wild with terror; but as
he screamed, the gold pieces tinkled together in his mouth.
“Ah, you rascal! So that’s the game! You have the money hidden under
your tongue. Out with it!”
But Pinocchio was as stubborn as ever.
“Are you deaf? Wait, young man, we’ll get it from you in a twinkling!”
One of them grabbed the Marionette by the nose and the other by the
chin, and they pulled him unmercifully from side to side in order to
make him open his mouth.
All was of no use. The Marionette’s lips might have been nailed
together. They would not open.
In desperation the smaller of the two Assassins pulled out a long knife
from his pocket, and tried to pry Pinocchio’s mouth open with it.
Quick as a flash, the Marionette sank his teeth deep into the Assassin’s
hand, bit it off and spat it out. Fancy his surprise when he saw that it
was not a hand, but a cat’s paw.
Encouraged by this first victory, he freed himself from the claws of
his assailers and, leaping over the bushes along the road, ran swiftly
across the fields. His pursuers were after him at once, like two dogs
chasing a hare.
After running seven miles or so, Pinocchio was well-nigh exhausted.
Seeing himself lost, he climbed up a giant pine tree and sat there
to see what he could see. The Assassins tried to climb also, but they
slipped and fell.
Far from giving up the chase, this only spurred them on. They gathered a
bundle of wood, piled it up at the foot of the pine, and set fire to it.
In a twinkling the tree began to sputter and burn like a candle blown by
the wind. Pinocchio saw the flames climb higher and higher. Not wishing
to end his days as a roasted Marionette, he jumped quickly to the ground
and off he went, the Assassins close to him, as before.
Dawn was breaking when, without any warning whatsoever, Pinocchio found
his path barred by a deep pool full of water the color of muddy coffee.
What was there to do? With a “One, two, three!” he jumped clear across
it. The Assassins jumped also, but not having measured their distance
well--splash!!!--they fell right into the middle of the pool. Pinocchio
who heard the splash and felt it, too, cried out, laughing, but never
stopping in his race:
“A pleasant bath to you, signori!”
He thought they must surely be drowned and turned his head to see. But
there were the two somber figures still following him, though their
black sacks were drenched and dripping with water.