William.

Episode 2 : William in the basement

At last he discovered an iron gate in the darkness, and, assuming an expression of patient suffering calculated to melt a heart of stone, ascended the path. At the front door, he straightened his hair (he had lost his hat on the way), pulled on his socks and rang the bell. After a while, a fat gentleman in a butler's suit opened the door and looked William up and down sternly.

"Please…" William began anxiously.

The fat man interrupted. "If you're the new boots," he said grandly, "go through the back door. If you're not, get out."

The butler confronts William at the door. "IF YOU WANT THE NEW BOOTS," he said grandly, "PASS THE PRESCRIBED DOOR." »

He then closed the door in William's face. William, on the top, thought about the question for a few minutes. It was dark and cold, with every chance of getting darker and colder. He decided to be the new boots. He went to the back door and knocked loudly. A tall woman in a printed dress and apron opened the door.

"What do you want?" he said in an aggressive tone.

"He said," said William firmly, "to come if the boots were new."

The woman looked at him with withering disapproval. "Did you get to the front?" she said. "You got gouda!" »

His disapproval turned to suspicion.

"Where are your things?" he asked.

"Go," William said without hesitation. - Too tired to take them with you? - said sarcastically. "Alright. Come in!"

William entered with gratitude. It was a big, warm and clean kitchen. A kitchen maid was peeling potatoes in a sink, and a cleaner in black, with a scratched hood and apron, was dusting his nose in front of a glass hanging on the wall. They both turned to look at William. "Here are the new boots," said Cook, "his servant will bring his things later." »

The maid looked at William, from his muddy boots to his messy hair, then from his messy hair to his muddy boots.

"Cute looking kids," he commented haughtily, returning to his task.

Guglielmo decided internally that she would have no part in the quarrels.

The maid laughed and winked at Guglielmo, with obvious friendly intent. Guglielmo mentally promises him half a load of scraps. "Come on, Smutty," said the waitress without turning around, "none of your sauce!" »

"Have you had your tea?" » the cook asked Guglielmo. William's morale improved.

"No," he said anxiously.

"Alright. Sit down at the table."

William's morale improved. He sat down at the table and the cook placed a large plate of bread and butter in front of him.

William immediately went to work. The cleaner looked at her with contempt.

"I learned to eat at the zoo," he said sadly.

The maid laughed again and winked at William again. William had contented himself with honest epicurean contentment with his bread and butter, and paid them no attention. At this moment the butler entered.

He subjected William, who did not move, to another thorough examination.

“The next time you enter this house, my son,” he said, “remember that the front door is reserved for the nobility and the back door for children.

Guglielmo just stared coldly at a piece of thrown bread. He mentally crossed it off the list of pepper recipients.

The butler looked sadly around the room. "They're all the same," he complained. "They eat, they eat, they eat. They just eat. They eat all day and night. He's not home for two minutes and he leaves. Eat! eat! eat! He will discover all the buttons of his uniform in a week, as the last warning. It's better to eat than to work, right? - said sarcastically to Guglielmo.

"Yes, me too," said William with firm conviction.

The cook laughed again and the maid sighed in disdain and weariness as she ran a thin pencil over her eyebrows.

"Well, if you have finished, my lord," said the butler with heavy irony, "I will show you to your room." »

William indicated that he was quite finished and was taken to a very small room. On a chair was the uniform of a page, with the usual row of brass buttons down the front of the coat.

"A T-shirt," explained the waiter briefly. "Your shirt. Put it on as soon as you can. There are people having dinner tonight."

William puts them. "You are smaller than the last one," said the butler critically. "They were a little cowardly. Don't worry about it. With a week or two of filling, you'll probably break it, so you can relax first. Now go. "Do you bring your things?"

"A… a friend," William explained.

"I think it's a little too much to ask you to carry your parcels," continued the servant, "these days. You're quite a Bolshevik, aren't you?"

Guglielmo deigned to explain.

"I'm a gold digger," he says.

“This is strange!” said the butler. William was taken back to the kitchen.

The butler opened a door leading to a small pantry.

"Here you work and here you live", pointing to a large kitchen. You don't have it," he finished arrogantly, "Henry in the servants."

"Frenzy!" said William.

"You had better start at once," continued the butler, "there are all the knives of this dinner to clean. Here is an apron, here is the knife board, and here is the knife dust."

He locked a worried William in the small pantry and turned to the stove.

"What do you think?" he said.

"He seems," said the cook gruffly, "just the kind of guy we're going to have trouble with." »

- Not much to say, said the maid, adjusting her frayed apron. "I'm amazed how a boy can become such an experienced, sensitive and open-minded man as you, Mr. Biggs."

Mr. Biggs smiled and straightened his tie.

"Well," he admitted, "when I was a child, I certainly wasn't like him."

Here the pantry door opened, and Guglielmo's face appeared, heavily adorned with knife dust.

"I made some knives," he said, "should I make something else and finish the others later?"

- How much did you do? asked Mr. Biggs.

"One or two," said William vaguely, "then with a drop of precision, well, two." But I feel tired of making knives. »

The servant let out a cry of joy and the cook heaved a deep sigh. The butler walked slowly and majestically towards the dismembered head of Guglielmo, who was still bent towards the pantry door.

- Finish these knives, my son, he said, or...

William took note of Mr. Biggs' weight and height.

"Good," he said quietly. - I will finish the knives.

He disappeared closing the pantry door behind him.

"It will be a trill," said the cook, "and make no mistake about it."

"Trill is too harsh a word," Biggs said. "Misery," added the maid.

"That's more so," said Mr. Biggs.

Here the head of William reappeared.

- What time is it for dinner? he asked.

He was rushed by a hysterical scream from the kitchen maid and a howl of anger from the butler. "You had better go and make your potatoes in the pantry," said the cook to the servant, "and we will stay here a little while to see if all is well." »

The servant happily went to the pantry. Guglielmo was sitting at the table, playing with a knife. He had experimented with knife powder mixing it with water, and the resulting little brown cakes coated the sideboard. He had liked it too, as evidenced by the black stains on his lips. His hair stood up like it always did when life was hard. He started the conversation.

"You would be surprised," he said, "if you knew what I really was." »

She laughed.

"Come on!" she said. "What are you?" »