Although this was precisely what she had so greatly feared it cannot be said that now she was grieved. All other sentiments were subdued by the wonder of listening to a strong, inward voice, that was so clear and still so inexplicable. She was dazed. Since Maria's death she had firmly believed that the Book of Destiny could contain nothing new for her, that certain secret fibres of her heart were dead. And now a mysterious voice was speaking within that heart, saying: Know that one page in the book of your destiny is finished, and the leaf has been turned. For you there is still a future of intense living. The drama that you believed had come to an end at the second act, is to continue, and if I Myself announce it to you, it must indeed prove wonderful!
For three hours, until Uncle Piero called her, she sat there, absorbed in this voice.
The uncle rose at half-past nine; he was feeling very well. The weather was still damp, almost rainy, but he would not hear of remaining in the house until it was time to start for Magadino, as Luisa wished him to do. He knew, for he had inquired of the proprietor, that the gardens could be visited after nine o'clock, so at ten he drank his milk and then started out to visit them with Luisa. When they passed S. Vittore he wished to go in and see the paintings. Mass was being sung, and at that moment the officiating priest turned towards them and said Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus. Uncle Piero crossed himself devoutly, and lingered to hear the last gospel. He did not attempt to examine the paintings, for there was little light in the church, but said with his accustomed cheerfulness: "Now that I have received that blessing I feel quite happy!"
It was not possible to hurry in his company. He stopped at every step, examining everything that seemed artistic, everything that was in a position to be examined. He studied the front of the church, the triple stairway of the landing-stage of Villa Borromeo, all three sides of the courtyard, and the great palm in the centre, which he was much scandalised to learn Luisa had not even noticed when she had passed it the night before with Franco. When the custodian ushered them into the palace, it took the uncle at least ten minutes to climb and admire the great stairway. As they reached the top a ray of sun glinted forth, and the custodian proposed that they should take advantage of this and visit the gardens. He turned to the left and led the visitors through a suite of empty rooms to the iron gate, where he rang the bell. A gardener appeared, a civil lad, to whom Uncle Piero took a great fancy, for he explained everything willingly, and the uncle's questions were not few. The camphor-tree near the entrance cost him five minutes. Luisa was distressed, for she feared the uncle would tire himself too much, and she herself was weary of looking at so many trees, of hearing so many names, both Latin and Italian, and of having to watch the uncle, while her thoughts called for silence and solitude. The gardener proposed going up to the Castello di Nettuno. Uncle Piero would have liked to inspect more closely the unicorn of the Borromei, which stood rampant up there, but there were many stairs to climb, the air was heavy, and he hesitated. Luisa took advantage of that moment of hesitation to ask the gardener where she might find a seat. "Just below here," said he. "On the left, where the Strobus are." Uncle Piero finally consented to go down and visit the clump of Strobus.
He was tired, but he continued to look at everything, to ask questions about everything. As they walked towards the Strobus they heard in the distance, over towards Isola Madre, the rolling of the drums of the National Guard of Pallanza, which was drilling on the shore. "Now it is all play," said the young man. "Not exactly play, but.... Next month we shall go to work in earnest. We have a lesson to give to a huge beast. There it is, over there, the monster!" The monster was the Austrian war steamer Radetzky, called by the inhabitants of the Piedmontese shore, el Radescòn. "The ship is just entering the bay of Laveno," said the young fellow, "coming from Luino. Come this way if you wish to see her plainly."
Uncle Piero knew his eyes were not strong enough to see the steamer, so he sat down on the first bench he found under the Strobus, which stood just in front of a group of bamboos, and was flanked by two groups of large azaleas. Behind the bamboos, between the great twisted trunks of the Strobus, he could see the mirror of white water trembling as far as the black line of the hills of Ispra. The sky, dark towards the north, was clear in that quarter. Luisa and the gardener went to the gate which bears the coat of arms, and which faces the green Isola Madre, Pallanza, and the upper lake. Luisa looked out over the immense expanse of leaden water, crowned by misty giants from the Sasso di Ferro group above Laveno to the mountains of Maccagno, and to the distant snows of the Splügen. The smoke of the Radetzky was more plainly visible than its body, and the drums of Pallanza were still rolling. Uncle Piero called the gardener and Luisa went to lean against the parapet beside the gate, and near the yew-tree that rises from the terrace below. The tree shut out the view on the east. She was glad to be alone at last, to rest her eyes and her thoughts on the grey of the great mountains and of the great waters. Presently the gardener came back to point out to her the yellow acacias and the white heather that were blossoming on the lower terrace. "The bruyères blanches bring luck," said he. Seeing that Luisa was lost in thought, and did not heed him, he started towards the hot-house containing the begonias. "An old Strobus," said he, speaking in a loud voice that the visitors might hear him, but without looking around, "An old Strobus that has been struck by lightning. If you wish to visit the private gardens——"
Luisa turned from the parapet and went to fetch the uncle, and give him her arm if necessary. The gardener, who was waiting at the entrance of the little grove of laurels, saw her start towards the old gentleman, who was still sitting on the bench, saw her quicken her pace and then rush to his side with a cry.
Like the innocent and aged tree Uncle Piero also had been struck down. His body was resting against the back of the bench, his head had fallen forward, and his chin touched his breast. His eyes were open, fixed and expressionless. It had indeed been a farewell spectacle his beloved Valsolda had offered him the day before. Uncle Piero, the dear, venerable, old man, wise, upright, and fatherly, the benefactor of his own people, Uncle Piero was gone, gone forever. He had come to enlist, but God had called him to a higher service; the bugle had sounded, and he had answered the call. The drums of Pallanza still rolled, rolled for the end of the old world, and rolled for the advent of the new. In Luisa's womb there lay a vital germ which was preparing to fight the battles of a new era, preparing to taste other joys, other griefs than those which the man of the old world was leaving thus peacefully, blessed unconsciously, at the last moment, by that strange priest of Isola Bella, who had, perhaps, never uttered the holy words to one more worthy.