e who was now so
unexpectedly presented in that sacred character. The sobs of Marguerite
reached his ears, and first recalled him to recollection. They came
blended with the fresh grief of Christine, who felt as if ruthless death
had now robbed her of a brother. There was also the struggling emotion of
one whose interest in him had a still more tender and engrossing claim.

"This is so wonderful!" said the trembling Doge, who dreaded lest the next
syllable that was uttered might destroy the blessed illusion, "so wildly
improbable, that, though my soul yearns to believe it, my reason refuses
credence. It is not enough to utter this sudden intelligence, Balthazar;
it must be proved. Furnish but a moiety of the evidence that is necessary
to establish a legal fact, and I will render thee the richest of thy class
in Christendom! And thou, Sigismund, come close to my heart, noble boy,"
he added, with outstretched arms, "that I may bless thee, while there is
hope--that I may feel one beat of a father's pulses--one instant of a
father's joy!"

Sigismund knelt at the venerable Prince's feet, and receiving his head on
his shoulder, their tears mingled. But even at that previous moment both
felt a sense of insecurity, as if the exquisite pleasure of so pure a
happiness were too intense to last. Maso looked upon this scene with cold
displeasure. His averted face denoting a stronger feeling than
disappointment, though the power of natural sympathy was so strong as to
draw evidences of its force from the eyes of all the others present.

"Bless thee, bless thee, my child, my dearly beloved son!" murmured the
Doge, lending himself to the improbable tale of Balthazar for a delicious
instant, and kissing the cheeks of Sigismund as one would embrace a
smiling infant; "may the God of heaven and earth, his only Son, and the
holy Virgin undefiled, unite to bless thee, here and hereafter, be thou
whom thou mayest! I owe thee one precious instant of happiness, such as I
have never tasted before. To find a child would not be enough to give it
birth; but to believe thee to be that son touches on the joys of
paradise!"

Sigismund fervently kissed the hand that had rested affectionately on his
head during this diction; then, feeling the necessity of having some
guarantee for the existence of emotions so sweet, he arose and made a warm
and strong appeal to him who had so long passed for his father to be more
explicit, and to justify his new-born