Bread, left untended, will steal itself, or so people liked to say. But the boy found that sometimes it needed help. He peeked in through the back door of the kitchen. Cook stood by the oven with her big wooden paddle, waiting for the baking to be done. Thelines on her face made her mouth look like it was curving downward, even when she was not frowning. No matter how hungry the boy was, Cook would never sneak him a loaf. One of the kitchen girls might, but Cook could not know. She''d sooner thwack a slaveboy''s backside with a kitchen spoon than part with a single crust.

Of all the kitchen girls, Brigitte was the softest touch. The boy caught her eye, but she shook her head a little. He gave her his saddest look. She nodded toward Cook. With her paddle, Cook was lifting cake after cake out of the oven. The boy sighed. A bit of bread could disappear, but cake would be missed. He studied the cake.

It was studded with raisins, shot through with cinnamon and topped with a glaze ofsugar. The boy sniffed deeply. The hollow ache in the pit of his belly awoke. His mouth watered, and his stomach churned. At the back gate, a great black dog whined and pawed to be let in. Pajti was the master''s best hunting dog and an accomplished escape artist. The boy went to the gate and said, "Pajti want some cake?" Pajti gave the boy a couple of suspicious sniffs. Then he wagged his tail and licked the boy''s hand through the grate.

The boy let him in and took him by the collar. He led Pajti to the kitchen door. "Pajti want some cake?" he whispered. Pajti whined and nuzzled the boy''s face. For luck, the boy rubbed his father''s ring, which he wore on a thong around his neck. Then he let go of Pajti''s collar. Pajti shot into the kitchen like an arrow. He knocked down a girl carrying a basket, and potatoes flew in every direction.

Pajti bounded over the girl and up onto the cutting table. He snarled at Cook. Cook shrieked and dropped her paddle. Cakes soared through the air. Screaming kitchen girls dropped everything and ran from the room. Tables flipped over and dishes clattered to the floor. Pajti dropped to theground and bit into one of the cakes. Cook was not going to surrender her kitchen so easily.

She was tough for an old woman. She grabbed her long iron spoon and waved it at him. "Go on, you wicked beast," she said. Pajti was not giving up his prize. Baring his fangs, he let out a low growl. He advanced slowly on her, ready to spring. This was too much even for Cook. She ran from the kitchen, shouting for help.

Pajti wolfed down the cake. As soon as she was gone, the boy darted into the kitchen. "Good boy," he said to Pajti, but Pajti turned on the boy and growled at him. The boy knocked two more cakes on the floor for Pajti. The dog fell on them while the boy grabbed one cake for himself and fled. He ran across the back court and shoved cake into his mouth. He must not be caught with it. Behind one of the hydrangeas in the outer courtyard, he had pruned a hiding spot where he could nap away the hottest hours of the afternoon.

If he could just make itthere, he could take his time with the rest of the cake. He slid around the corner to the outer courtyard only to find his master, Casimir, talking to the Factor. Behind them stood Rodrigo, one of the more senior slaves and valet to Casimir''s son Tibor. The boy saw them just before they noticed him. He jammed the rest of the cake into his mouth and dropped to his hands and knees. As the three ofthem looked over at him, he pressed his forehead to the ground. Abasing himself gave him just enough time to give the cake a quick chew before swallowing it. "What about that one? Surely we don''t need him," said Casimir.

The boy stood. Slaves had to keep their heads bowed in Casimir''s presence, but the boy made sure not to bow his head too far. Dealing directly with Casimir was dangerous. It was always a good idea to keep an eye on the master. Casimir looked down at the boy. When his eye landed on the ring hanging around the boy''s neck, he twisted his great waxed mustache as if he were trying to remember something. "What''s your name again?" "I haven''t got one, Master," said the boy. "Why not? Did you lose it?" Casimir laughed out loud.

"That''s a good one, isn''t it?" he said to the Factor. "Did you lose it?" The Factor managed to produce a dry chuckle. "Yes, sir, very droll indeed," he said. "Oh no, Master, if someone gave me something as valuable as a name, I would never lose it," said the boy. "You cheeky little devil!" shouted Casimir. He clouted the boy on the ear. "You think you need a tongue to, to--What is it you do around here?" "I tend the plants in the inner and outer courtyards, Master," said the boy. "That''s it?" said Casimir.

"For that, I give you two meals every day?" He shook his head. "You''re going to Mossglum." "Why?" said the boy. Rodrigo gasped. The Factor stared, wide-eyed. But Casimir remained calm. "Did you just ask me why?" "Uh--" "First my son wants to know why, and now my slave does," said Casimir. "I suppose unquestioning obedience is terribly old-fashioned nowadays.

" He pursed his lips. "I suppose I must be an old fuddy-duddy for expecting it." "The young do have their notions," said the Factor. "You want to know why?" said Casimir. "Here''s why." The blow staggered the boy. His ears rang, and he had to blink his eyes for several seconds to clear his vision. "But since you asked, I am sending my eldest son, Tibor"--at the mention of Tibor''s name, the Factor rolled his eyes--"to the town of Mossglum to, to, to .

" Casimir turned to the Factor. "Hang me, what is he going to do there again?" "I believe you are sending him to the home of your wife''s cousin so that he may better understand the industry that converts manure to fertilizer," said the Factor. "That''s it," said Casimir. "He''s going to Mossglum to learn about dung." "A very exciting opportunity for a young man to make his mark in the world, I''m sure," said the Factor. "I was going to send him with Rodrigo, but that''s not good enough, apparently. He can''t make do with just one slave. And since all you do is slop a bit of water about, I thought I''d send you, too," said Casimir.

"Is that a good enough reason? Does that satisfy your curiosity?" The boy opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Casimir shoved the boy at Rodrigo. Rodrigo caught the boy''s shoulder and led him away.