Fra Felice turned his eyes towards her and smiled quietly. “I am going to die,” he said, hoarsely; but he corrected himself and said: “I am permitted to die.”
Donna Elisa asked what the matter was, and said that she would fetch help.
“Sit down here,” he said, and made a feeble attempt to wipe away the dust on the platform with his sleeve.
Donna Elisa said that she wished to fetch the priests and sisters of charity.
He seized her skirt and held her back.
“I want to speak to you first, Donna Elisa.”
It was hard for him to talk, and he breathed heavily after each word. Donna Elisa sat down beside him and waited.
He lay for a while and panted; then a flush rose to his cheeks; his eyes began to shine, and he spoke with ease and eagerness.
“Donna Elisa,” said Fra Felice, “I have a legacy to give away. It has troubled me all day. I do not know to whom I shall give it.”