"
"It will do the latter, father."
A rude summons at the door interrupted them.
"Come forth, Jacopo," said a keeper, "the Council seeks thee!"
Jacopo felt the convulsive start of his father, but he did not answer.
"Will they not leave thee--a few minutes longer?" whispered the old
man--"I shall not keep thee long!"
The door opened, and a gleam from the lamp fell on the group in the
cell. The keeper had the humanity to shut it again, leaving all in
obscurity. The glimpse which Jacopo obtained, by that passing light, was
the last look he had of his father's countenance. Death was fearfully on
it, but the eyes were turned in unutterable affection on his own.
"The man is merciful--he will not shut thee out!" murmured the parent.
"They cannot leave thee to die alone, father!"
"Son, I am with my God--yet I would gladly have thee by my side!--Didst
thou say--thy mother and thy sister were dead!"
"Dead!"
"Thy young sister, too?"
"Father, both. They are saints in Heaven."
The old man breathed thick, and there was silence. Jacopo felt a hand
moving in the darkness, as if in quest of him. He aided the effort, and
laid the member in reverence on his own head.
"Maria undefiled, and her Son, who is God!--bless thee, Jacopo!"
whispered a voice, that to the excited imagination of the kneeling Bravo
appeared to hover in the air. The solemn words were followed by a
quivering sigh.
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