"You wrong him," cried Pepita, earnestly. "You wrong him. You must not talk so. He is not a bravo. He is my brother. He has been like a father to me. He loves me dearly, and my good name is dearer to him than life. He is so good and so noble, dear Luigi! It was his love for me that blinded him and made him furious. He thought you were deceiving us all, and would not listen to you."
"But if he were so noble would he have attacked one unarmed man, and he at the head of a dozen?"
"I tell you," cried Pepita, "you do not know him. He was so blinded by passion that he had no mercy. Oh, I owe every thing to him! And I know how good and noble he is!"
"Pepita, for your sake I will forgive him every thing."
"I can not stay longer," said Pepita, making an effort to rise.
"Oh, Pepita! you can not leave me forever."
Pepita fell weeping into his arms, her slender form convulsed with emotion.
"You shall not."
"I must--there is no help."
"Why must you? Can you not fly with me? What prevents you from being mine? Let us go and be united in the little church where I saw you first."