and she lives in another life! I would go to hell, if a hell there were, sooner than see her face,—sooner than hear her ask of you at my hands."
"Hush! Have I not said I forgive?"
The soft and solemn cadence of the mournful words seemed to fall upon his ear with a deep calm he dared not, or cared not to break; he lay silent some moments, breathing heavily, while his drooped lids hung as though in sleep; then with a sudden upleaping of the vivid life within him, he raised himself once more, while the careless melody of his sweet laugh echoed with its old chime through the air.
"I have been a coward all my life. Well—I will die like a hero. They will make me a martyr when I am gone! Why not? Let my epitaph lie as it will, it cannot lie like a priest's or a king's! So this is the end of it all; the drama is not worth the playing. They have taken Palermo, I tell you;—Well! they revile us, but after all, we have truth in us; the people will see that one day. The capital is all in confusion. They could only leave you a half-dozen guards. Lousada and Veni, and a few others, thought we could do something if we struck well,—they have got a brigantine too,—if you fly at once, you will be safe."
