“Thou hast affirmed thy innocence, my son!”

“Innocent of shedding blood, father, but not of lending myself to their artifices.  I will not weary you, holy monk, with the history of the means by which they worked upon my nature.  I was sworn to serve the state, as its secret agent, for a certain time.  The reward was to be my father’s freedom.  Had they taken me in the world, and in my senses, their arts would not have triumphed; but a daily witness of the sufferings of him who had given me life, and who was now all that was left me in the world, they were too strong for my weakness, They whispered to me of racks and wheels, and I was shown paintings of dying martyrs, that I might understand the agony they could inflict.  Assassinations were frequent, and called for the care of the police; in short, father”—­Jacopo hid his face in the dress of Gelsomina—­“I consented to let them circulate such tales as might draw the eye of the public on me.  I need not add, that he who lends himself to his own infamy will soon attain his object.”

“With what end was this miserable falsehood invented?”

“Father, I was applied to as a public Bravo, and my reports, in more ways than one, answered their designs, That I saved some lives is at least a consolation for the error or crime into which I fell!”

“I understand thee, Jacopo.  I have heard that Venice did not hesitate to use the ardent and brave in this manner.  Holy St. Mark! can deceit like this be practised under the sanction of thy blessed name!”

“Father, it is, and more.  I had other duties connected with the interests of the Republic, and of course I was practised in their discharge.  The citizens marvelled that one like me should go at large, while the vindictive and revengeful took the circumstance as a proof of address.  When rumor grew too strong for appearances, the Three took measures to direct it to other things; and when it grew too faint for their wishes it was fanned.  In short, for three long and bitter years did I pass the life of the damned—­sustained only by the hope of liberating my father, and cheered by the love of this innocent!”

“Poor Jacopo, thou art to be pitied!  I will remember thee in my prayers.”

“And thou, Gelsomina?”

The keeper’s daughter did not answer.  Her ears had drunk in each syllable that fell from his lips, and now that the whole truth began to dawn on her mind, there was a bright radiance in her eye that appeared almost supernatural to those who witnessed it.

“If I have failed in convincing thee, Gelsomina,” continued Jacopo, “that I am not the wretch I seemed, would that I had been dumb!”

She stretched a hand towards him, and dropping her head on his bosom, wept.

“I see all thy temptations, poor Carlo,” she said, softly; “I know how strong was thy love for thy father.”

“Dost thou forgive me, dearest Gelsomina, for the deception on thy innocence?”