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the feast of san sebastiano ij7i
opened the garden-gate for him ! It had also weighed
up her love. She did not understand it, now. It
was as if scales full of feathers could have weighed up
scales full of gold.
" My handsome boy !" said Donna Elisa, " my
handsome boy ! He was already a great man over
there in England, and he came home to help us poor
Sicilians. And now they have sentenced him as
though he were a bandit. It is said they came near
shooting him, like the rest. Perhaps it had been
better had they done so, Cavaliere. It had been better
to have laid him to rest in the churchyard than to
know him in prison. How will he be able to endure
all his suffering ? He cannot bear it, he will be sick,
he will soon be dead."
As she said this, Donna Micaela tore herself loose
from her stupor and rose. She staggered through
the room and came in to her father and Donna Elisa,
as deathly pale as the poor murdered Giannita. She
was so weak, that she dared not enter, but remained
standing by the door, supporting herself against the
doorpost.
" It is I, Donna Elisa," she said ; " it is I. . ."
The words would not pass her lips. She clenched
her hands in despair at not being able to speak.
In a moment Donna Elisa was by her side. She
laid her arm about her for support without heeding
Donna Micaela’s attempts to push her away.
" You must forgive me, Donna Elisa," she said
almost inaudibly. " I have done it."
Donna Elisa paid very little attention to what she
said. She saw that she had fever and thought she
was delirious.
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