“I am not, papa; I confess it.”
“Has anything occurred to vex you?”
“To vex me! No, not quite that. It is thinking of another that gives me unhappiness.”
“Of another! Who, cara figlia?”
“Well, papa, I’ve been thinking of that poor young Inglese, who was carried away by those infamous men. Suppose it had been brother Luigi?”
“Ay, indeed!”
“What do you think they will do with him? Is his life in danger?”
“No, not his life—that is, if his friends will only send the money that will be demanded for his ransom.”
“But if he have no friends? He might not. His dress was not rich; and yet for all that he looked a galantuomo. Did he not?”
“I did not take much notice of him, my child. I was too busy with the affairs of the town while the ruffians were here.”