"She has."
"Then she pines no longer over a blow that cannot be helped."
The Bravo seemed to search for relief in the sympathizing eye of the pale and speechless Gelsomina.
"She has ceased to pine, father," he uttered with compelled calmness.
"Thou hast ever loved thy sister, boy, with manly tenderness. Thy heart is kind, as I have reason to know. If God has given me grief, he has blessed me in my children!"
A long pause followed, during which the parent seemed to muse on the past, while the child rejoiced in the suspension of questions which harrowed his soul, since those of whom the other spoke had long been the victims of family misfortune. The old man, for the prisoner was aged as well as feeble, turned his look on the still kneeling Bravo, thoughtfully, and continued.
"There is little hope of thy sister marrying, for none are fond of tying themselves to the proscribed."
"She wishes it not—she wishes it not—she is happy, with my mother!"
"It is a happiness the Republic will not begrudge. Is there no hope of our being able to meet soon?"
"Thou wilt meet my mother—yes, that pleasure will come at last!"