A rude summons at the door interrupted them.
"Come forth, Jacopo," said a keeper, "the Council seeks thee!"
Jacopo felt the convulsive start of his father, but he did not answer.
"Will they not leave thee—a few minutes longer?" whispered the old man—"I shall not keep thee long!"
The door opened, and a gleam from the lamp fell on the group in the cell. The keeper had the humanity to shut it again, leaving all in obscurity. The glimpse which Jacopo obtained, by that passing light, was the last look he had of his father's countenance. Death was fearfully on it, but the eyes were turned in unutterable affection on his own.
"The man is merciful—he will not shut thee out!" murmured the parent.
"They cannot leave thee to die alone, father!"
"Son, I am with my God—yet I would gladly have thee by my side!—Didst thou say—thy mother and thy sister were dead!"
"Dead!"
"Thy young sister, too?"