“And the lupins?”
“The lupins! We didn’t eat them, his lupins; we haven’t got them in our pockets. And Uncle Crucifix can take nothing from us; the advocate said so, said he was spending money for nothing.” There was a moment’s silence, but Maruzza was still unconvinced.
“So he told you not to pay?”
’Ntoni scratched his head, and his grandfather added:
“It’s true, the lupins—we had them—we must pay for them.”
There was nothing to be said, now that the lawyer was no longer there; they must pay. Padron ’Ntoni shook his head, muttering:
“Not that, not that! the Malavoglia have never done that. Uncle Crucifix may take the house and the boat and everything, but we can’t do that.”
The poor old man was confused; but his daughter-in-law cried silently behind her apron.
“Then we must go to Don Silvestro,” concluded Padron ’Ntoni.
And with one accord, grandfather, grandchildren, and daughter-in-law, with the little girl, proceeded once more in procession to the house of the communal secretary, to ask him how they were to manage about paying the debt, and preventing Uncle Crucifix from sending any more stamped paper to eat up the house and the boat and the family.