"'Tis late--bless thee, dearest Gaetano--God be with my child--my
Adelheid--poor Adelheid!"
The utterance of this precious name, under a father's agony of spirit,
most probably saved his life. The sinewy arm of Sigismund, directed by the
words, grasped his dress, and he felt at once that a new and preserving
power had interposed between him and the caverns of the lake. It was time,
for the water had covered the face of the failing baron, ere the muscular
arm of the youth came to perform its charitable office.
"Yield thee to the dog, Signore," said Sigismund, clearing his mouth of
water to speak calmly, once assured of his own burthen; "trust to his
sagacity, and,--God keep us in mind!--all may yet be well!"
The Signor Grimaldi retained sufficient presence of mind to follow this
advice, and it was probably quite as fortunate that his friend had so far
lost his consciousness, as to become an unresisting burthen in the hands
of Sigismund.
"Nettuno!--gallant Nettuno!"--swept past them on the gale for the first
time, the partial hushing of the winds permitting the clear call of Maso
to reach so far.
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