“Oh grant,” said the lady, in conclusion to her prayer; and she repeated the part aloud, “grant that his heart may be turned from the unholy pursuit which now throws his soul into the hands of demons, and let the spirit of his mother inspire him with the thoughts that she possessed.”
This loud conclusion sounded solemnly in the silence of the night. The sternness of Appadocca’s character could scarcely resist it.
“Come and join me; say you renounce the life you now lead,” said Feliciana.
Appadocca made no answer.
“Come, come—for your mother’s sake, come,” said Feliciana.
“Pray you, senora. I will not pray, and I cannot renounce.”
“I entreat you: imagine you behold the mother that you have loved so much, making the same petition to you. Could you refuse her?”
“Senora, speak no more on this theme, I say I cannot renounce; my vow is made.”
“Heaven looks not upon unholy vows; not on vows of vengeance,” said Feliciana, “renounce your life and forget that oath.”
“Senora, the morning star is sinking; my followers must be growing impatient. I must go;” and Appadocca moved a step.