"Thou art kind, good Gelsomina, and true to thy friends, and without suspicion of those crimes of which thou art so innocent: but to one who has seen as much evil as I, a jealous thought comes at every new event. The sufferings of my poor father are near their end, for nature is worn out; but were it not, I can foresee that means would be found to bring them to a close."
"Thou can'st not suspect that any here would do him harm!"
"I suspect none that belong to thee. Both thy father and thyself, Gelsomina, are placed here by the interposition of the saints, that the fiends should not have too much power on earth."
"I do not understand thee, Carlo—but thou art often so.—Thy father used a word to-day that I could wish he had not, in speaking to thee."
The eye of the Bravo threw a quick, uneasy, suspicious glance at his companion, and then averted its look with haste.
"He called thee Jacopo!" continued the girl.
"Men often have glimpses of their fate, by the kindness of their patrons."
"Would'st thou say, Carlo, that thy father suspects the senate will employ the monster he named?"
"Why not?—they have employed worse men. If report says true, he is not unknown to them."
"Can this be so!—Thou art bitter against the Republic, because it has done injury to thy family; but thou canst not believe it has ever dealt with the hired stiletto."