ncern. "We must not treat so tender a flower rudely.
Hearken to me, daughter, and consult thy reason, more than thy
weakness."

"Question her not, father; let her curse me, and depart."

"Carlo!" shrieked Gelsomina.

A long pause succeeded. The monk perceived that human passion was
superior to his art, and that the case must be left to time; while the
prisoner maintained within himself a struggle more fierce than any which
it had yet been his fate to endure. The lingering desires of the world
conquered, and he broke silence.

"Father," he said, advancing to the length of his chain, and speaking
both solemnly and with dignity, "I had hoped--I had prayed that this
unhappy but innocent creature might have turned from her own weakness
with loathing, when she came to know that the man she loved was a Bravo.
But I did injustice to the heart of woman! Tell me, Gelsomina, and as
thou valuest thy salvation deceive me not--canst thou look at me without
horror?"

Gelsomina trembled, but she raised her eyes, and smiled on him as the
weeping infant returns the earnest and tender regard of its mother. The
effect of that glance on Jacopo was so powerful that his sinewy frame
shook, until the wondering Carmelite heard the clanking of his chains.

"'Tis enough," he said, struggling to command himself, "Gelsomina, thou
shalt hear my confession. Thou hast long been mistress of one great
secret, none other shall be hid from thee."

"Antonio!" gasped the girl. "Carlo! Carlo! what had that aged fisherman
done that thy hand should seek his life?"

"Antonio!" echoed the monk; "dost thou stand charged with his death, my
son?"

"It is the crime for which I am condemned to die."

The Carmelite sank upon the stool of the prisoner, and sat motionless,
looking with an eye of horror from the countenance of the unmoved Jacopo
to that of his trembling companion. The truth began to dawn upon him,
though his mind was still enveloped in the web of Venetian mystery.

"Here is some horrible mistake!" he whispered. "I will hasten to thy
judges and undeceive them."

The prisoner smiled calmly, as he reached out a hand to arrest the
zealous movement of the simple Carmelite.

"'Twill be useless," he said; "it is the pleasure of the Three that I
should suffer for old Antonio's death."

"Then wilt thou die unjustly! I am a witness that he fell by other
hands."

"Father!" shrieked Gelsomina, "oh! repeat the words; say that Carlo
could not do th