Note: Translator Pauline Bancroft Flach died in 1966, less than 70 years ago. Therefore, this work is protected by copyright, restricting your legal rights to reproduce it. However, you are welcome to view it on screen, as you do now. Read more about copyright.
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THE BELLS OF SAN PASQUALE ’ 121
could have a home to offer him. And she was
sure that he would be glad to have her leave Don
Ferrante.
She moved in a delicious trance. Everything
that had seemed dreadful appeared so no longer.
There was no shame, no danger; no, none at all.
She only longed to hear the rattling of the
post-carriage.
Then she heard many voices on the stairs leading
from the court-yard to the second floor. She heard
a multitude of heavy feet tramping. She saw
people passing through the open portico that ran
round the court-yard, and through which one had to
go to come into the rooms. She saw that they were
carrying something heavy between them, but she
could not see what it was, because there was such a
crowd.
The pale-faced advocate walked before the others.
He came and said to her that Don Ferrante had
wished to drive Torino out of his shop; Torino had
cut him with his knife. It was nothing dangerous.
He was already bandaged and would be well in a
fortnight.
Don Ferrante was carried in, and his eyes
wandered about the room, not in search of Donna
Micaela, but of Cavaliere Palmeri. When he saw
him, he let his wife know without a word, only by a
few gestures, that her father never would need to
leave his house; never, never.
Then she pressed her hands against her eyes.
What, what! her father need not go ? She was saved.
A miracle had come to pass to help her!
Ah, now she must be glad, be content! But she
was not. She felt the most terrible pain.
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