, kneeling by the side of the straw. "Thine
eye, and cheek, and countenance are better, than in the damp caves
below!"

"I am happy here," returned the prisoner; "there is light, and though
they have given me too much of it, thou canst never know, my boy, the
joy of looking at the day, after so long a night."

"He is better, Gelsomina. They have not yet destroyed him. See! his eye
is bright even, and his cheek has a glow!"

"They are ever so, after passing the winter in the lower dungeons,"
whispered the gentle girl.

"Hast thou news for me, boy? What tidings from thy mother?"

Jacopo bowed his head to conceal the anguish occasioned by this
question, which he now heard for the hundredth time.

"She is happy, father--happy as one can be, who so well loves thee, when
away from thy side."

"Does she speak of me often?"

"The last word that I heard from her lips, was thy name."

"Holy Maria bless her! I trust she remembers me in her prayers?"

"Doubt it not, father, they are the prayers of an angel!"

"And thy patient sister? thou hast not named her, son."

"She, too, is well, father."

"Has she ceased to blame herself for being the innocent cause of my
sufferings?"

"She has."

"Then she pines no longer over a blow that cannot be helped."

The Bravo seemed to search for relief in the sympathizing eye of the
pale and speechless Gelsomina.

"She has ceased to pine, father," he uttered with compelled calmness.

"Thou hast ever loved thy sister, boy, with manly tenderness. Thy heart
is kind, as I have reason to know. If God has given me grief, he has
blessed me in my children!"

A long pause followed, during which the parent seemed to muse on the
past, while the child rejoiced in the suspension of questions which
harrowed his soul, since those of whom the other spoke had long been the
victims of family misfortune. The old man, for the prisoner was aged as
well as feeble, turned his look on the still kneeling Bravo,
thoughtfully, and continued.

"There is little hope of thy sister marrying, for none are fond of tying
themselves to the proscribed."

"She wishes it not--she wishes it not--she is happy, with my mother!"

"It is a happiness the Republic will not begrudge. Is there no hope of
our being able to meet soon?"

"Thou wilt meet my mother--yes, that pleasure will come at last!"

"It is a weary time since any of my blood, but thee, have stood in my
sight. Kneel, that I may bless thee."

Jaco