"Wind! Wind!" said Ismaele, coming towards them.
"I shall walk! I shall walk!" groaned Cia, who had a great horror of the lake. Meanwhile the crowd issuing from the church pushed and dispersed the group, and carried them down the steps. The six travellers and the boatmen met again in the square of S. Mamette and here Donna Ester declared that, as she was not feeling very well, she must forego the punch, and that she would walk home with Cia.
Franco, Luisa, and the Professor saw it would be useless to insist, and the two women started towards Oria escorted by Ismaele, who was to come back for the Maironis and the boat.
A moderateur lamp illumined Gilardoni's salon, a good fire was burning on the hearth, and Pinella had prepared everything for the punch over which Luisa presided, the host himself being much depressed in spirit by Donna Ester's desertion.
"Look at Maria," said Franco softly.
The little one had gone to sleep in the Professor's armchair near the window. Franco took the lamp and held it aloft in order to see her better. She seemed like some little creature descended from heaven, fallen there with the star-light, unconscious, her face suffused with a sweetness which was not of this world, with a solemnity full of mystery. "Darling!" said he, and drew his wife towards him with an encircling arm, his eyes still fixed on Maria. Gilardoni came up behind them, and murmured: "How lovely!" Then he went back to the fireplace sighing: "Happy people!"
Franco, who was deeply moved, whispered in his wife's ear: "Shall we tell him?" She did not understand, and looked questioningly into his eyes. "That I am going away," said he, still in an undertone. Luisa started and answered, "Yes, yes!" She was greatly affected, for she had not expected this. In the church she had believed he was still undecided. Her astonishment did not escape Franco. He was troubled by it and felt his resolution shaken, but she at once perceived this, and repeated earnestly: "Yes, yes!" and gently pushed him towards Gilardoni.
"Dear friend," said he, "I have something to tell you."
The Professor, absorbed in contemplation of the fire, did not answer. Franco placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ah!" he exclaimed, rousing himself, "I beg your pardon! What it is?"