"Tivano."
Maria silently exhibited the basket, which was still full, to Signora Pasotti, and by clever acting illustrated the manner of discovery of the letter, which she gave her to read.
As soon as the deaf woman had finished reading, a strange, indescribable pantomime began between the three. Maria and Don Giuseppe, by dint of gesticulations and rollings of their eyes, expressed their surprise and terror; Barborin, half frightened, half dazed, stared open-mouthed, from one to the other, the letter still in her hand, as if she had understood. As a matter of fact she had made out only that the letter must be terrible. Presently a thought struck her. She held the letter out to Don Giuseppe with her left hand, while with her right forefinger she pointed to the word Franco; then she crossed her wrists with a questioning gesture; and as the others, recognising that the sign meant handcuffs, nodded their heads violently in confirmation, she became half frenzied, so great was her affection for Luisa, and forgetting the matter that had brought her there, she explained by signs, as if both the others had been deaf also, that she would go straight to Oria, see Don Franco, and give him the letter.
She started to rush away, cramming the letter into her pocket, and with hardly a word of leave-taking to Don Giuseppe and Maria, who, greatly distressed, were trying in vain to get hold of her, to detain her and recommend all possible precautions. But she slipped through their fingers, and her great, tall bonnet quivering, her old grey skirt dragging, set off at a trot towards Oria, where she arrived quite out of breath, with her head full of gendarmes, inspections, scenes of terror and of grief.
She went up the stairs of the little Ribera garden, making straight for the hall, where she saw there were visitors. She recognised the Receiver and the Imperial and Royal Commissary of Porlezza, and was terrified, believing they were come for the terrible blow, but then she perceived Signora Bianconi and Signor Giacomo Puttini, and once more breathed freely.
The Commissary, seated in the post of honour on the large sofa, next to the Engineer-in-Chief, talked a great deal, with much fluency and brilliancy, looking oftenest at Franco, as if he were the only person present upon whom it was worth while to waste breath and wit. Franco, lounging in an armchair, was mute and sullen, like one who, in the house of another, perceives a bad odour which good manners forbade him either to flee from or curse. They were discussing the Crimean campaign, and the Commissary was praising the plan of the allied powers to attack the colossus in that vital point, his ambition. He spoke of the Russian barbarities, and of the autocrat himself in such terms as to cause Franco to tremble in his dread of an Anglo-Franco-Austrian alliance, and Carlascia to open his eyes wide, for he still held the views of 1848, and looked upon the Czar as a good friend of the family. "And you, Signor First-Political-Deputy, what do you think of it?" said the Commissary, turning his sarcastic smile upon Signor Giacomo. Puttini winked his little eyes very hard, and having felt his knees all over, replied: "Most respected Signor Commissary, I know little about Russia, France, or England, and I care still less. I let them settle their own affairs. But, to speak the truth, I am sorry for that poor dog 'Papuzza.' He was as quiet as a young chicken until they worried him, then when he called for help, fifty rushed to his aid, and now they are all upon him, devouring everything they can grab; and whether poor 'Papuzza' win or lose, he will have nothing left but his shirt."
This nickname "Papuzza,"—a Venetian distortion of Babbuccia slippers—Signor Giacomo applied to the Turk. "Papuzza" personified Turkey in the form of one ideal Turk, with a huge turban, a long beard, a big belly, and slippers. Puttini, the peaceful, half free-thinker, had a weakness for the lazy, placid, easy-going "Papuzza."
"Don't worry," the Commissary laughed. "Your friend 'Papuzza' will come out all right. We are his friends also, and will not allow him to be mutilated or bled."
Franco, frowning sternly, could not refrain from grumbling.