Padrone, never again to hear her voice, never again to see her face! Those little arms that twined round your neck that dark night, when we fled fast for life and freedom, and you said, as you felt their clasp, 'Friend, all is not yet lost.'" "Giacomo!" exclaimed the father, reproachfully, and his voice seemed to choke him.

Riccabocca turned away, and walked restlessly to and fro the terrace; then, lifting his arms with a wild gesture, as he still continued his long irregular strides, he muttered, "Yes, Heaven is my witness that I could have borne reverse and banishment without a murmur, had I permitted myself that young partner in exile and privation.

Heaven is my witness that, if I hesitate now, it is because I would not listen to my own selfish heart.

Yet never, never to see her again,--my child! And it was but as the infant that I beheld her! O friend, friend!" (and, stopping short with a burst of uncontrollable emotion, he bowed his head upon his servant's shoulder), "thou knowest what I have endured and suffered at my hearth, as in my country; the wrong, the perfidy, the--the--" His voice again failed him; he clung to his servant's breast, and his whole frame shook.
"But your child, the innocent one--think now only of her!" faltered Giacomo, struggling with his own sobs.

"True, only of her," replied the exile, raising his face, "only of her.