"
"Ha! There is a sign from the palace!" shouted the Carmelite,
stretching both his arms in that direction, as if to grasp a boon. The
clarions sounded, and another wave stirred the multitude. Gelsomina
uttered a cry of delight, and turned to throw herself upon the bosom of
the reprieved. The axe glittered before her eyes, and the head of Jacopo
rolled upon the stones, as if to meet her. A general movement in the
living mass denoted the end.
The Dalmatians wheeled into column, the Sbirri pushed aside the throng
on their way to their haunts; the water of the bay was dashed upon the
flags; the clotted saw-dust was gathered; the head and trunk, block,
basket, axe, and executioner disappeared, and the crowd circulated
around the fatal spot.
During this horrible and brief moment neither Father Anselmo nor
Gelsomina moved. All was over, and still the entire scene appeared to be
delusion.
"Take away this maniac!" said an officer of the police, pointing to
Gelsomina as he spoke.
He was obeyed with Venetian readiness, but his words proved prophetic
before his servitors had quitted the square. The Carmelite scarce
breathed. He gazed at the moving multitude, at the windows of the
palace, and at the sun which shone so gloriously in the heavens.
"Thou art lost in this crowd!" whispered one at his elbow. "Reverend
Carmelite, you will do well to follow me."
The monk was too much subdued to hesitate.
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