391

CHAPTER II

THE SUMMONS TO ARMS 411

Part First

CHAPTER I

RISOTTO AND TRUFFLES

On the lake a cold _breva_[A] was blowing, striving to drive away the
grey clouds which clung heavily about the dark mountain-tops. Indeed,
when the Pasottis reached Casarico on their way down from Albogasio
Superiore, it had not yet begun to rain. The waves beat and thundered on
the shore, jostling the boats at their moorings, while flashing tongues
of white foam showed, here and there, as far as the frowning banks of
the Doi over yonder. But down in the west, at the end of the lake, a
line of light could be seen, a sign of approaching calm, of the
diminishing _breva_, and behind the gloomy Caprino hill appeared the
first misty rain. Pasotti, in his full dress black overcoat, a tall hat
on his head, his hand grasping a thick bamboo walking-stick, was pacing
nervously along the shore, peering now in this direction, now in that,
or stopping to beat his stick upon the ground, and to shout for that
ass of a boatman, who had not yet appeared.

The little black boat, with its red cushions, its red and white awning,
its movable seat, used only on special occasions, fixed crosswise in its
place, the oars lying ready amidship, was struggling, buffeted by the
waves, between two coal barges, which hardly moved.

"Pin!" shouted Pasotti, growing more and more angry. "Pin!"

The only answer was the regular, constant thundering of the waves on the
shore, and the bumping of one boat against another. At that moment one
would have said there was not so much as a live dog in the whole of
Casarico. Only a plaintive, old voice, like the husky falsetto of a
ventriloquist, groaned from beneath the portico--

"Hadn't we better walk?"

At last Pin appeared in the direction of San Mamette.

"Hurry up, there!" shrieked Pasotti, raising his arms. The man began to
run.

"Beast!" Pasotti roared. "It was with good reason they gave you the name
of a dog!"

"Hadn't we better walk, Pasotti?" groaned the plaintive voice. "Let us
walk!"

Pasotti continued to abuse the boatman, who was hastily unfastening the
chain of his boat from a ring, fixed in the bank. Presently he turned
towards the portico, with an authoritative air, and jerking his chin,
motioned to some one to come forward.

"Let us walk, Pasotti!" the voice groaned once more.

He shrugged his shoulders, made a ro