“There was no deception; I believed thee a son ready to die for his father, and I find thee what I thought thee.”

The good Carmelite regarded this scene with eyes of interest and indulgence; tears wetted his cheeks.

“Thy affection for each other, children,” he said, “is such as angels might indulge.  Has thy intercourse been of long date?”

“It has lasted years, father.”

“And thou, daughter, hast been with Jacopo in the cell of his parent?”

“I was his constant guide on these holy errands, father.”

The monk mused deeply.  After a silence of several minutes he proceeded to the duties of his holy office.  Receiving the spiritual confession of the prisoner he gave the absolution with a fervor which proved how deeply his sympathies were enlisted in behalf of the youthful pair.  This duty done, he gave Gelsomina his hand, and there was a mild confidence in his countenance as he took leave of Jacopo.

“We quit thee,” he said; “but be of heart, son.  I cannot think that even Venice will be deaf to a tale like thine!  Trust first to thy God, and believe that neither this faithful girl nor I will abandon thee without an effort.”

Jacopo received this assurance like one accustomed to exist in extreme jeopardy.  The smile which accompanied his own adieux had in it as much of incredulity as of melancholy.  It was, however, full of the joy of a lightened heart.

CHAPTER XXX.

                  “Your heart

is free, and quick with virtuous wrath to accuse
Appearances; and views a criminal
In innocence’s shadow.” 

          
                                                            Werner.

The Carmelite and Gelsomina found the keepers in waiting, and when they quitted the cell its door was secured for the night.  As they had no further concerns with the jailors they passed on unquestioned.  But when the end of the corridor which led towards the apartments of the keeper was reached, the monk stopped.

“Art thou equal to a great effort, in order that the innocent shall not die?” he suddenly asked, though with a solemnity that denoted the influence of a high and absorbing motive.

“Father!”

“I would know if thy love for the youth can sustain thee in a trying scene; for without this effort he will surely perish!”

“I would die to save Jacopo a pang!”

“Deceive not thyself, daughter!  Canst thou forget thy habits; overstep the diffidence of thy years and condition; stand and speak fearlessly in the presence of the great and dreaded?”

“Reverend Carmelite, I speak daily without fear, though not without awe, to one more to be dreaded than any in Venice.”

The monk looked in admiration at the gentle being, whose countenance was glowing with the mild resolution of innocence and affection, and he motioned for her to follow.