"Poor Jacopo, thou art to be pitied! I will remember thee in my prayers."
"And thou, Gelsomina?"
The keeper's daughter did not answer. Her ears had drunk in each syllable that fell from his lips, and now that the whole truth began to dawn on her mind, there was a bright radiance in her eye that appeared almost supernatural to those who witnessed it.
"If I have failed in convincing thee, Gelsomina," continued Jacopo, "that I am not the wretch I seemed, would that I had been dumb!"
She stretched a hand towards him, and dropping her head on his bosom, wept.
"I see all thy temptations, poor Carlo," she said, softly; "I know how strong was thy love for thy father."
"Dost thou forgive me, dearest Gelsomina, for the deception on thy innocence?"
"There was no deception; I believed thee a son ready to die for his father, and I find thee what I thought thee."
The good Carmelite regarded this scene with eyes of interest and indulgence; tears wetted his cheeks.
"Thy affection for each other, children," he said, "is such as angels might indulge. Has thy intercourse been of long date?"