The Patriarch, moved with immeasurable compassion, raised her tenderly.
"My daughter," he said, in a voice that trembled with feeling, "Venice
is restored to favor. The Interdict is removed!"
Through the stern assembly a wave of sympathy surged irresistibly,
impelling them to comfort this lovely, grieving lady, distraught by
anguished brooding. Scarcely knowing that their emotion expressed itself
in words, they caught up the Patriarch's answer and echoed it from group
to group--from gallery to gallery--until it gathered impetus and rolled
like a Hallelujah Chorus through the vast, vaulted chamber.
"Venice is restored to favor; the Interdict is removed!"
The light grew upon her face.
How should it seem strange to her that her prayer at the feet of the
Holy Father had wrought this pardon for Venice--was it not for this that
the blessed Madonna of San Donato had sent her? She had promised
blessing for sacrifice!
She stood for a moment, radiant, while the chorus of many voices
throbbed around her--her face like an angel's for joy and love--a
glorified vision in the parting rays of the evening sun--then her faint
fluttering breath died in a _Benedicite_!
* * * * *
The vesper bells of Venice came softly through the twilight, calling to
Ave Maria.
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