CHAPTER XXI
THE SIEGE
When the enemy had fairly been driven out of the house Mrs. McGuirewent upstairs in search of Phil. Our hero had come out from his place ofconcealment, and stood at the window.
"Where is Pietro?" he asked, as his hostess appeared in the chamber.
"I druv him out of the house," said Bridget, triumphantly.
"Then he won't come up here?" interrogated Phil.
"It's I that would like to see him thry it," said Mrs. McGuire, shakingher head in a very positive manner, "I'd break my broom over his backfirst."
Phil breathed freer. He saw that he was rescued from immediate danger.
"Where is he now?"
"He's outside watching for you. He'll have to wait till you come out."
"May I stay here till he goes?"
"Sure, and you may," said the warm-hearted Irishwoman. "You're aswelcome as flowers in May. Are you hungry?"
"No, thank you," said Phil. "I have eaten my dinner."
"Won't you try a bit of bread and cold mate now?" she asked, hospitably.
"You are very kind," said Phil, gratefully, "but I am not hungry. I onlywant to get away from Pietro."
"Is that the haythen's name? Sure I niver heard it before."
"It is Peter in English."
"And has he got the name of the blessed St. Peter, thin? Sure, St. Peterwould be mightily ashamed of him. And is he your brother, do you say?"
"No," said Phil.
"He said he was; but I thought it was a wicked lie when he said it. He'stoo bad, sure, to be a brother of yours. But I must go down to my work.My clothes are in the tub, and the water will get cold."
"Will you be kind enough to tell me when he goes away?" asked Phil.
"Sure I will. Rest aisy, darlint. He shan't get hold of you."
Pietro's disappointment may be imagined when he found that the victimwhom he had already considered in his grasp was snatched from him inthe very moment of his triumph. He felt nearly as much incensed at Mrs.McGuire as at Phil, but against the former he had no remedy. Over thestalwart Irishwoman neither he nor the padrone had any jurisdiction,and he was compelled to own himself ignominiously repulsed and baffled.Still all was not lost. Phil must come out of the house some time, andwhen he did he would capture him. When that happy moment arrived heresolved to inflict a little punishment on our hero on his own account,in anticipation of that which awaited him from his uncle, the padrone.He therefore took his position in front of the house, and maintained acareful watch, that Phil might not escape unobserved.
So half an hour passed. He could hear no noise inside the house, nordid Phil show himself at any of the windows. Pietro was disturbed by asudden suspicion. What if, while he was watching, Phil had escaped bythe back door, and was already at a distance!
This would be quite possible, for as he stood he could only watch thefront of the house. The rear was hidden from his view. Made uneasy bythis thought, he shifted his ground, and crept stealthily round on theside, in the hope of catching a view of Phil, or perhaps hearing someconversation between him and his Amazonian protector by which he mightset at rest his suddenly formed suspicions.
He was wrong, however. Phil was still upstairs. He was disposed to becautious, and did not mean to leave his present place of security untilhe should be apprised by his hostess that Pietro had gone.
Bridget McGuire kept on with her washing. She had been once to the frontroom, and, looking through the blinds, had ascertained that Pietro wasstill there.
"He'll have to wait long enough," she said to herself, "the haythen!It's hard he'll find it to get the better of Bridget McGuire."
She was still at her tub when through the opposite window on the sideof the house she caught sight of Pietro creeping stealthily along, as wehave described.
"I'll be even wid him," said Bridget to herself exultingly. "I'll tachehim to prowl around my house."
She took from her sink near by a large, long-handled tin dipper, andfilled it full of warm suds from the tub. Then stealing to the window,she opened it suddenly, and as Pietro looked up, suddenly launched thecontents in his face, calling forth a volley of imprecations, which Iwould rather not transfer to my page. Being in Italian, Bridget did notexactly understand their meaning, but guessed it.
"Is it there ye are?" she said, in affected surprise.
"Why did you do that?" demanded Pietro, finding enough English toexpress his indignation.
"Why did I do it?" repeated Bridget. "How would I know that you werecrapin' under my windy? It serves ye right, anyhow. I don't want youhere."
"Send out my brother, then," said Pietro.
"There's no brother of yours inside," said Mrs. McGuire.
"It's a lie!" said Pietro, angrily stamping his foot.
"Do you want it ag'in?" asked Bridget, filling her dipper once morefrom the tub, causing Pietro to withdraw hastily to a greater distance."Don't you tell Bridget McGuire that she lies."
"My brother is in the house," reiterated Pietro, doggedly.
"He is no brother of yours--he says so."
"He lies," said Pietro.
"Shure and it's somebody else lies, I'm thinkin'," said Bridget.
"Is he in the house?" demanded Pietro, finding it difficult to arguewith Phil's protector.
"I don't see him," said Bridget, shrewdly, turning and glancing roundthe room.
"I'll call the police," said Pietro, trying to intimidate his adversary.
"I wish you would," she answered, promptly. "It would save me thetrouble. I'll make a charge against you for thryin' to break into myhouse; maybe you want to stale something."
Pietro was getting disgusted. Mrs. McGuire proved more unmanageable thanhe anticipated. It was tantalizing to think that Phil was so near him,and yet out of his reach. He anathematized Phil's protector in hisheart, and I am afraid it would have gone hard with her if he could havehad his wishes fulfilled. He was not troubled to think what next tosay, for Bridget suddenly terminated the interview by shutting down thewindow with the remark: "Go away from here! I don't want you lookin' inat my windy."
Pietro did not, however, go away immediately. He moved a little furtherto the rear, having a suspicion that Phil might escape from the door atthe back. While he was watching here, he suddenly heard the front dooropen, and shut with a loud sound. He ran to the front, thinking thatPhil might be taking flight from the street door, but it was only aruse of Mrs. McGuire, who rather enjoyed tantalizing Pietro. He lookedcarefully up and down the street, but, seeing nothing of Phil, heconcluded he must still be inside. He therefore resumed his watch, butin some perplexity as to where he ought to stand, in order to watch bothfront and rear. Phil occasionally looked guardedly from the windowin the second story, and saw his enemy, but knew that as long as heremained indoors he was safe. It was not very agreeable remaining inthe chamber alone, but it was a great deal better than falling intothe clutches of Pietro, and he felt fortunate to have found so secure aplace of refuge.
Pietro finally posted himself at the side of the house, where he couldcommand a view of both front and rear, and there maintained hisstand nearly underneath the window at which his intended prisoner wasstanding.
As Phil was watching him, suddenly he heard steps, and Bridget McGuireentered the chamber. She bore in her hand the same tin dipper beforenoticed, filled with steaming hot water. Phil regarded her with somesurprise.
"Would you like to see some fun now?" she asked, her face covered by abroad smile.
"Yes," said Phil.
"Open the windy, aisy, so he won't hear."
Phil obeyed directions, and managed not to attract the attention of hisbesieger below, who chanced at the moment to be looking toward the doorin the rear.
"Now," said Bridget, "take this dipper and give him the binifit of it."
"Don't let him see you do it," cautioned his protector.
Phil took the idea and the dipper at once.
Phil, holding the dipper carefully, discharged
the contents with suchgood aim that they drenched the watching Pietro. The water being prettyhot, a howl of pain and rage rose from below, and Pietro danced aboutfrantically. Looking up, he saw no one, for Phil had followed directionsand drawn his head in immediately. But Mrs. McGuire, less cautious,looked out directly afterward.
"Will ye go now, or will ye stand jist where I throw the hot water?"
In reply, Pietro indulged in some rather emphatic language, but beingin the Italian language, in which he was more fluent, it fell unregardedupon the ears of Mrs. McGuire.
"I told you to go," she said. "I've got some more wather inside."
Pietro stepped back in alarm. He had no disposition to take another warmshower bath, and he had found out to his cost that Bridget McGuire wasnot a timid woman, or easily frightened.
But he had not yet abandoned the siege. He shifted his ground to thefront of the house, and took a position commanding a view of the frontdoor.
Phil, the Fiddler Page 21
