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Updated: June 15, 2025
For Don Gianluca has recovered, and they are now about to have a civil marriage and announce it to their friends. "It was the will of God that my own sin should follow me to the end, and that it should be the means of freeing these three persons from their terrible position. For the Baron of Guardia believes that he is married to the princess, and she believes that she is Don Gianluca's wife.
But no way occurred to him which did not look cowardly, and when he rose from his seat, he had made up his mind to face his troubles as well as he could, since he could not avoid them. He went to Gianluca's room before he went to bed. A small light burned behind a shade in a corner, and at first he could barely see the white face on the white pillow.
It was a friendship, too, that was, as it were, pre-sanctified by the rising shadow of near death, fore-hallowed by the sure suffering of its coming end. It would be hard indeed to cut from Gianluca's heart the one flower of his loving belief.
At last he could not even sit up at table, and remained lying in his low chair, while the others ate their meals hastily in order not to leave him long alone. The doctor came, a clever young man, whom Veronica had procured for the good of the village. He shook his head, though he tried to speak cheerfully to Gianluca's father and mother.
"I do not believe that has anything to do with it," replied Veronica, rather proudly. "The Serra are as old as they. Did you see that gentleman who is Don Gianluca's friend? He is descended from Tancred." "It is other blood," said the doctor. He went away, and the great physician who lived in Naples was sent for at once. A carriage went down to Eboli to meet him.
Veronica did not perhaps acknowledge that, little by little, Gianluca's letters were beginning to fill the place of poor Bosio's conversation in former times. But that was what was taking place.
She said what she could; but in that self-examination which self-defence forces upon those who have never dissected their own hearts, a new and fearful truth sprang up, clear of all others, bright, keen, and terrible. It was no longer for her people's sake that she was waiting in the hope of Gianluca's recovery. It was no longer for her own, nor for his.
It was characteristic of the Sicilian that he at once attempted to interfere with destiny in favour of his friend. He was not a man to lose time when time was precious. His ardent temper loved difficulties, even when they were not his own. Bold, untiring, discreet, and loyal, if there were anything to be done in Gianluca's case, he was the man to do it.
"As I have kept mine till now," answered the old man. So they parted, and Taquisara went back to the castle, leaving the lonely priest among his books. Veronica did not wish the people of Muro to believe that she was marrying a cripple. That was the reason why she did not at once agree to Gianluca's proposal and send for the syndic to perform the legal ceremony.
Veronica rose, for she felt that she could not sit still by Gianluca's side, with his words in her ear, her own scarcely cold upon her lips, and the man for whom she would have given her soul's salvation, who would have died ten deaths for her, standing quietly there, looking on. She walked nervously up and down the room. "Should you like to fence?" asked Taquisara.
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