When he and she were alone in the alcove-room, instead of at once opening the shutters, she inquired what had happened. Franco told her everything, from Signora Pasotti's letter to the Commissary's strange communication.
Luisa listened with a serious face, but without exhibiting any sign of fear. Then she examined the mysterious note. Both she and Franco were aware that among the government agents at Porlezza there was one honest man, who, in 1849 and 1850 had saved several patriots by a timely warning. But they were also aware that this honest man was ignorant of the rules of orthography and grammar, and the note Barborin had brought was perfectly correct. As to the Commissary, it was well known that he was one of the most malicious and treacherous of the government's tools. Luisa approved of the answer her husband had made him.
Franco himself was well aware of all this, but he could find no plausible explanation for this persecution. Luisa, however, had one in mind which contempt for the grandmother had suggested to her. This Commissary was a good friend of the grandmother's, he himself had said so, thereby displaying, so he thought, the refinement of cunning. In the Commissary's glove there was the talon of the Marchesa. She meant to strike not Franco alone, but all the others as well, and they were to be reached through him who maintained the family with the fruit of his labours, out of the kindness of his generous heart. She knew from speeches which had been repeated to her by the usual hateful gossips, that the grandmother hated Uncle Piero because Uncle Piero had made it possible for her grandson to rebel against her, and to live comfortably enough in rebellion. Now they were seeking for a pretext to strike him. The flight of the nephew would be a confession, and, for a government like the Austrian, a good pretext to strike the uncle. Luisa did not say so at once, but she let him see that she had an idea, and little by little, her husband drew it from her. When she had told him, though in his heart he believed she was right, he nevertheless protested in words, defending his grandmother against an accusation which seemed too monstrous, and which rested on so slight a foundation. At all events husband and wife agreed perfectly in their resolve not to flee, but to await further developments. They therefore wasted no time in making or discussing suppositions. Luisa rose and went to open the shutters, and standing in the full light, she turned to look smilingly at her husband, stretching out her hand to him. He pressed it and shook it, his heart aflame, but his tongue speechless. They felt like soldiers, who, conscious of the distant roar of cannon, are being led along a quiet road, towards what fate God only knows.
CHAPTER IV
THE HAND WITHIN THE GLOVE
The Engineer-in-Chief noticed nothing, and two days later, the term of his leave having expired, he went away peacefully in his boat, wrapped in his great, grey travelling cloak, and accompanied by Cia, the housekeeper. Ten days passed without further developments, and Franco and Luisa concluded that a trap had been set for them, and that, after all, the police would not appear. On the evening of the first of October they played tarocchi merrily with Puttini and Pasotti, and then, their guests having left early, they went to bed. When Luisa kissed the child, who was sleeping, she noticed that her flesh was hot. She felt of her hands and legs. "Maria is feverish," she said.
Franco took up the candle and looked at her. Maria was sleeping with her little head drooping towards her left shoulder as usual. The lovely little face which always wore a frown when she was asleep, was slightly flushed, and the breathing rather quick. Franco was alarmed, and at once thought of scarlet fever, the measles, gastric, and brain fever. Luisa, who was more calm, thought of worms, and prepared a dose of santonine, which she placed ready on the pedestal. Then both father and mother went noiselessly to bed, put out the light and lay listening anxiously to the little one's short, quick breathing. At last they dozed, but towards midnight they were aroused by Maria, who was crying. They lighted the candle and Maria became quiet and took the santonine. Then presently she began to cry again, and wanted to be taken into the big bed, between mamma and papa, and finally went to sleep there; but her sleep was uneasy and often interrupted by sobs.
Franco kept the candle burning that he might watch her more closely. He and his wife were bending over their darling when two knocks sounded in quick succession on the street-door. Franco started up in bed. "Did you hear?" said he. "Hush!" said Luisa, grasping his arm, and listening. Two more knocks sounded, louder still, and Franco exclaimed: "The Police!" and sprang to the floor. "Go, go!" Luisa begged in a low tone. "Don't let them take you! Go by the little courtyard! Climb over the wall!" He did not answer, but hastily threw on some clothes and rushed from the room, heedless of danger, and determined never of his own free will to leave his Luisa and his sick child.
He dashed down the stairs. "Who is there?" he inquired, without opening the door. "The Police!" some one answered. "Open at once."