Donna Micaela went quickly over to him. “Come with me, signor,” she said, and went before him. She wished to go so far away that no one should hear them, and then she wished to beg of him never to come before her eyes again. She could do no less. He must not ruin her whole life.
She did not think in what direction she went. Suddenly she was at the door of the monastery church and turned in there.
Within, it was almost dark. Only by the Christ-image a little oil lamp was burning.
When Donna Micaela saw the Christ-image she was startled. Just then she had not wished to see him.
He reminded her of the time when his crown had rolled to Gaetano’s feet, when he had been so angry with the brigands. Perhaps the Christ-image did not wish her to drive away the _jettatore_.
She had good reason to fear the _jettatore_. It was wrong of him to come to her entertainment; she must somehow be rid of him.
Donna Micaela had gone on through the whole church, and now stood and looked at the Christ-image. She could not say a word to the man who followed her.
She remembered what sympathy she had lately felt for him, because a prisoner, like Gaetano. She had been so happy that she had tempted him out to life. What did she now wish to do? Did she wish to send him back to captivity?
She remembered both her father and Gaetano. Should this man be the third that she--
She stood silent and struggled with herself. At last the _jettatore_ spoke:--
“Well, signora, is it not true that now you have had enough of me?”
“Do you not desire me to return to my cell?”
“Yes, yes, you understand. Something terrible has happened to you to-day. You do not look as you did this morning.”
“I am very tired,” said Donna Micaela, evasively.
The man came close up to her as if to force out the truth. Questions and answers flew short and panting between them.
“Do you not see that all your festival is likely to be a failure?”--“I must arrange it again to-morrow.”--“Have you not recognized me?”--“Yes, I have seen you before in Catania.”--“And you are not afraid of the _jettatore_?”--“Yes, formerly, as a child.”--“But now, now are you not afraid?” She avoided answering him. “Are you yourself afraid?” she said. “Speak the truth!” he said, impatiently. “What did you wish to say to me when you brought me here?”