"I forget nothing that is connected with the Republic! It is all here," striking his flushed brow—"what is not there, is in my heart!"
"Poor Carlo! this cannot last for ever—there will be an end!"
"Thou art right," answered the Bravo hoarsely. "The end is nearer than thou thinkest. No matter; turn the key, that we may go in."
The hand of Gelsomina lingered on the lock, but admonished by his impatient eye, she complied, and they entered the cell.
"Father!" exclaimed the Bravo, hastening to the side of a pallet that lay on the floor.
The attenuated and feeble form of an old man rose at the word, and an eye which, while it spoke mental feebleness, was at that moment even brighter than that of his son, glared on the faces of Gelsomina and her companion.
"Thou hast not suffered, as I had feared, by this sudden change, father!" continued the latter, kneeling by the side of the straw. "Thine eye, and cheek, and countenance are better, than in the damp caves below!"
"I am happy here," returned the prisoner; "there is light, and though they have given me too much of it, thou canst never know, my boy, the joy of looking at the day, after so long a night."
"He is better, Gelsomina. They have not yet destroyed him. See! his eye is bright even, and his cheek has a glow!"
"They are ever so, after passing the winter in the lower dungeons," whispered the gentle girl.