CHAPTER XIII
FLIGHT
At half-past two that same night Franco, Lawyer V., and their friend Pedraglio were sitting in the loggia in the dark, and in silence. Suddenly Pedraglio started up exclaiming: "What can that fool be about?" Going out to the terrace he listened a moment and then returned to the room. "No sign of him," said he. "Oh, I say! Are we to sit here like idiots and wait for them to come and take us, and all on account of that silly ass, who has probably fallen asleep? Maironi, you are fairly well acquainted with the road, and we all three have plenty of courage. If it should be necessary to pitch into anybody we should be quite equal to the occasion. Don't you think so, V.?"
The night before, between seven and eight o'clock, Pedraglio had happened to be on the road between Loveno and Menaggio. At the spot that goes by the name of "Bertin's Cove" a man had begged of him, had pressed a note into his hand, and had then walked rapidly away. The note ran as follows: "Why does Carlino Pedraglio not go to Oria at once, to see Signor Maironi and the lawyer from Varenna, and take a nice little walk with his dear friends over beyond the stake?"
Ever since the arrest of his friend the doctor at Pellio, Pedraglio had been expecting some sign from the police, and this note was not the first timely and ungrammatical warning which had reached a patriot. The note spoke plainly; he must pass the stake that marked the frontier without delay. Pedraglio knew nothing of Franco's misfortune and return, nor was he aware of the lawyer's presence in Oria. He did not stop to speculate, however, but hastened to Loveno, provided himself with money, and started off on foot. He would not risk going to Porlezza, but took the path that from a spot near Tavordo rises upwards through a lonely ravine to the Passo Stretto. As nimble as a chamois, he reached Oria in four hours, and found Franco and the lawyer preparing to start, another mysterious warning having reached them through the curate of Castello, who had been to Porlezza, and had there been charged with the message, in the confessional. Ismaele was to guide them across the frontier. The passes of Boglia were very carefully guarded, and Ismaele proposed passing between Monte della Neve and Castello; then they would drop down into the valley, making straight for the Alpe di Castello below the Sasso Grande, and from there descend to Cadro, an hour above Lugano.
But Ismaele was to have been there at two o'clock, and at half-past two he had not yet appeared.
Luisa was also up. She was in the alcove-room mending a pair of Maria's stockings, which she intended to place on the little bed, where she had arranged all of the child's little garments with the same care as when the little one was alive. She had not wished to see either the lawyer or Pedraglio. After her intense excitement at the funeral her grief had once more assumed that gloomy aspect which caused Dr. Aliprandi still greater anxiety. She was no longer excited; she did not even speak, and she had never yet wept. Her manner towards Franco exhibited nothing but pity for this man who loved her, and whose affection and presence were, in spite of herself, perfectly indifferent to her. Franco, relying upon obtaining the position his director had talked so much about, had proposed taking the whole family back to Turin with him. Uncle Piero, poor old man, was quite ready to make this new sacrifice, but Luisa had stated explicitly that rather than leave her little daughter, she would end her days in the lake.
Upon hearing the proposal to start without Ismaele, Franco rose and said he would go and take leave of his wife. Just at that moment the lawyer heard a step in the street below. "Silence!" said he. "Here he is." Franco went out to the terrace. Some one was, indeed, coming from the direction of Albogasio. Franco waited until the wayfarer had reached the church-place, and then called out in a low voice: