Note: Translator Pauline Bancroft Flach died in 1966, less than 70 years ago. Therefore, this work is protected by copyright, restricting your legal rights to reproduce it. However, you are welcome to view it on screen, as you do now. Read more about copyright.
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A yETTA TORE
259
She was sure that she had been shut in a whole
hour when Gandolfo came. Where had he been
such a long time?
He had not been long at all. He had only been
away five minutes.
“God! God! so that is being a prisoner; that is
Gaetano’s life!” She burst into tears when she saw
the open sky once more above her.
A while later, as they stood out on an open loggia,
Gandolfo showed her a couple of windows with
shutters and green shades.
“Does any one live there? “ she asked.
“Yes, Donna Micaela, some one does.”
Gandolfo told her that a man lived there who
never went out except at night, — a man who never
spoke to any one.”
“Is he crazy? “ asked Donna Micaela.
“No, no; he is as much in his right mind as you
or I. But people say that he has to conceal
himself. He is afraid of the government.”
Donna Micaela was much interested in the man.
“What is his name?” she said.
“I call him Signor Alfredo.”
“ How does he get any food ?” she asked.
“ I prepare it for him,” said Gandolfo.
“And clothes?”
“ I get them for him. I bring him books and
newspapers, too.”
Donna Micaela was silent for a while. “ Gandolfo,”
she said, and gave him a rose which she held in her
hand, “ lay this on the tray the next time you take
food to your poor prisoner.”
After that Donna Micaela sent some little thing
almost every day to the man in the monastery. It
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