The Pasottis in Valsolda in January! Why had they come? And that greeting! Pasotti salute him thus? Pasotti, who had never been near them since the search? What did all this mean? Franco, greatly perplexed, went up to the house and told the news. All were amazed, and most of all Signora Peppina. "How? Do you really mean it? The Signor Controller of all men! And Signora Barborin also, poor little woman!" The event was excitedly discussed. Some thought one thing, some another. In about five minutes Pasotti came noisily in, dragging Signora Barborin behind him. She was laden with shawls and bundles and half dead with the cold. The poor creature could only keep repeating: "Two hours in the boat! Two hours in the boat!"
"Whatever brought you to Valsolda in this weather, Süra Pasotti?" Peppina screamed at her. "Oh, gracious! She don't understand anything, poor little woman!" And though Luisa and Ester shouted the same question in her ear, and though she opened her mouth wide, the poor deaf woman could not understand, and continued to answer at random: "Have I had my dinner? If I will dine here?" At last Pasotti came to the rescue, and told them that he and his wife had been called away by urgent business in October, and the last washing had been left undone. His wife had been worrying him for some time about that blessed washing, and finally he had made up his mind to satisfy her by coming. Then Donna Ester turned to Signora Pasotti, going through the pantomime of washing.
Barborin glanced at her husband, who had his eyes fixed upon her, and answered: "Yes, yes. The washing! The washing!" That glance, the order she read in the Controller's eyes, made Luisa suspect a mystery underlying all this. This mystery and the inexplicable effusiveness of Pasotti suggested another suspicion to her. What if they had come on her account and Franco's? What if the Professor's trip to Lodi had something to do with bringing about this unexpected visit? She would have liked to consult the Professor and beg him to remain until the Pasottis had left, but then, how could she speak to him without Franco's noticing it? Meanwhile Donna Ester was saying good-bye, and Gilardoni was graciously permitted to escort her home.
The Pasottis could not go up to Albogasio Superiore until the farmer, who had been notified at once, should have had time to prepare and heat at least one room for their reception. The Controller at once proposed a three-handed game of tarocchi with the Engineer and Franco. Then Signora Peppina went away, and Barborin asked Luisa to allow her to withdraw for a few minutes, and begged her hostess to accompany her. As soon as he was alone with her friend in the alcove room, she glanced all about her with wide, frightened eyes, and then whispered: "We are not here on account of the washing, you know. Not on account of the washing!" Luisa questioned her silently with face and gestures, for had she spoken in a loud voice they would have heard her in the hall. This time Signora Pasotti understood, and replied that she did not know anything, that her husband had not told her anything, that he had ordered her to corroborate the story about the washing, but that really she was not in the least anxious about it. Then Luisa took a piece of paper and wrote: "What do you suspect?" Signora Pasotti read the words, and then began a most complicated pantomime: shakings of the head, rollings of the eyes, sighs, imploring glances towards the ceiling. It was as if a mighty struggle were going on within her between hope and fear. At last she uttered an "Ah?" seized the pen, and wrote below Luisa's question:
"The Marchesa!"
Then she dropped the pen and stood looking at her friend. "She is at Lodi," she said in an undertone. "The Controller has been to Lodi. So there you have it!" And she hastened back to the hall, faring to arouse her husband's suspicions.
The game over, Pasotti went to one of the windows, saying something in a loud voice about the effect of the twilight, and called Franco to him. "You must come and see me this evening," he said softly. "I have something to say to you." Franco sought to excuse himself. He was starting the next morning for Milan, leaving his family for some time; he could hardly spend this last evening away from home. Pasotti answered that it was absolutely necessary. "It concerns your journey to-morrow!" said he.
"It concerns your journey to-morrow!" As soon as the Pasottis had left for Albogasio Superiore, Franco repeated the conversation to his wife. He had been much upset by it. So Pasotti knew! He would not have been so mysterious had he not been alluding to the journey to Turin, and Franco was greatly vexed to think that Pasotti was aware of this. But how had he found out? Perhaps the friend in Turin had been indiscreet. And now what did Pasotti want of him? Was another blow perhaps about to be struck by the police? But Pasotti was not the man to come and warn him. And all that hypocritical amiability? Perhaps they did not wish him to go to Turin, did not wish him to find an easier path, to free himself and his family from poverty, from commissaries and gendarmes. He thought and thought, and finally decided this must be the reason. In her heart Luisa greatly doubted it. She feared something else; but she also was persuaded Pasotti knew about Turin, and this upset all her suppositions. After all, the only way was to go and find out.