" he exclaimed, and his eye now sought the mother--"bitter, bitter memories! Francesca, farewell! Be happy if thou canst!"
She rushed toward him as he moved away, recovering all her strength for this one effort. A single and broken sentence--"Forgive me, O forgive!"--escaped her lips, as she sunk senseless upon the floor. He would have raised her, but they did not suffer him.
"Is this not enough, Giovanni?" said his friend reproachfully. "Seest thou not that thy presence but distracts her?"
"Thou art right, Nicolo; let us go. I am myself choking--undo me this collar!--There! Let us depart."
The organ rolled its anthem--a thousand voices joined in the hymn to the Virgin, and as the sweet but painful sounds rushed to the senses of the youth he darted through the crowd, closely followed by his friend. The music seemed to pursue him with mockery. He rushed headlong from the temple, as if seeking escape from some suffocating atmosphere in the pure breezes of heaven, and hurried forward