“See that it is all because I love you!—not gratitude, but love. I love you with my whole heart, my whole soul, and every fibre of my body!”
I could see tears glistening in the Admiral’s eyes as he said, “Princess, this is madness!”
“No, it is not madness,” she said, coming forward and kneeling at his feet, with her hands clasped round his arm, and her great clear eyes and her flowerlike face turned upwards, radiating love and beauty. In this attitude of supplication she poured forth her love; speaking, not the worship of the women of a people for the liberator of their country, but a girl’s passion for her first love.
I was so riveted by the tumult of emotions which struggled in the Admiral’s open face that I did not notice that I was no longer alone at the lattice. My attitude had betrayed that something extraordinary was in progress, and Will was looking over my shoulder. I noticed the pressure, but did not give him a thought while that wonderful tragedy was being enacted below. The Admiral was strangely moved, and could find no words except, “But your brother, Princess?”
“I cannot think of him; I cannot think of anything except my love for you.”
The Admiral gave a little gesture as if he would shake her off; but, looking down on the lovely enraptured face, he had not the heart. Instead, I could see the tears rolling down his cheeks as he said, “And your brother is hardly dead.”
“He is dead! he is dead!” she cried. “Ruggiero who was dearer to me than anything in life, except you. Did I not wait for it? Did I not spare him? This has been upon my lips for months past, and I thought of Ruggiero.”
“Princess, Princess, do not speak it!”
“I must, my dear Lord; more than anything should I have been glad to die in Ruggiero’s place if you had known that I had died for you: nay, whether you knew it or no. We Sicilians are afraid of pain, but not of death; and if I had died for you, and you had known it, perhaps you would have kissed my dead lips.”
“I have kissed Ruggiero,” said the Admiral, almost involuntarily.