"
"These were my first offerings to my wife, in return for the gift she had
made me of the precious babe," said the Doge, in such a smothered voice
as we are apt to use when examining objects that recall the presence of
the dead--"Blessed Angiolina! these jewels are so many tokens of thy pale
but happy countenance; thou felt a mother's joy at that sacred moment, and
could even smile on me!"
"And here is a talisman in sapphire, with many Eastern characters; I was
told it had been an heirloom in the family of the child, and was put about
his neck at the birth, by the hands of his own father."
"I ask no more--I ask no more! God be praised for this, the last and best
of all his mercies!" cried the Prince, clasping his hands with devotion.
"This jewel was worn by myself in infancy, and I placed it around the neck
of the babe with my own hands, as thou sayest--I ask no more."
"And Bartolo Contini!" uttered Il Maledetto.
"Maso!" exclaimed a voice, which until then had been mute in the chapel.
It was Adelheid who had spoken. Her hair had fallen in wild profusion over
her shoulders, as she still knelt over the articles on the pavement, and
her hands were clasped entreatingly, as if she deprecated the rude
interruptions which had so often dashed the cup from their lips, as they
were about to yield to the delight of believing Sigismund to be the child
of the Prince of Genoa.
Pages:
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726