Checco took no notice of them; he looked straight in front of him. And even when the Count had just fallen under his dagger he had not been so ghastly pale.... The children were sobbing desperately at his knees. The men hesitated; but there was no pity in the man of God; he repeated his sign more decisively than before, and the men advanced. The children clung to Checco's legs, crying,—
'Checco, don't let them touch us!'
He made no sign. He held his eyes straight in front of him, as if he saw nothing, heard nothing. But his face! Never have I seen such agony....
The children were torn from him, their hands bound behind their backs. How could they! My heart was bursting within me, but I dared say nothing. They were led to the scaffold. A sobbing cry came from the people and wailed through the heavy air.
The Countess stood still, looking at her children. She made not the slightest motion; she might have been of stone.
The children cried out,—
'Checco! Checco!'
It was heartbreaking.
'Go on!' said Savello.
A groan burst from Checco, and he swayed to and fro, as if he were going to fall.