"I am aware of that," said the Delegato, frigidly. He bowed for the last time, and left the cell, gently closing the door. CHAPTER XXV Est-ce donc une monnaie que votre amour, pour qu'il puisse passer ainsi de main en main jusqu'à la mort? Non, ce n'est pas même une monnaie; car la plus mince pièce d'or vaut mieux que vous, et dans quelques mains qu'elle passe elle garde son effigée.--A. DE MUSSET. Wentworth came in the morning, tremulous, eager, holding Michael by the shoulders, as he used to do when Michael was a small boy, as he had never done since. The brothers looked long at each other with locked hands, water in their eyes. "Wenty," said Michael at last, with his grave smile. And that was all. They sat down together in silence on the little bed. Wentworth tried to speak once or twice, but it was no use. "Fay cried with joy at the news," he said at last, looking with shy hungry love at his brother. "If you could have seen her radiant face. I never saw any creature so changed, so transfigured." A faint flush rose to Michael's face. "I know how she grieved over your imprisonment. She is the most tender-hearted woman in the world. I never knew anyone so sympathetic." Wentworth hesitated. Then he added tremulously. "My great grief has been her grief, too. She helped me to bear it." "I did not know she had--minded so much," said Michael, almost inaudibly. "You might have guessed it," said Wentworth, "knowing her to be what she is. She has always been so pale and sad, as if bowed down by trouble. But directly the news came that you were cleared--I went to see her at once--if you could only have seen her face, her tears of joy, her delight." "Did she send a message, or a note? Just a line. Perhaps you have a letter with you." "No, she did not write," said Wentworth, self conscious, but beaming. "There was not time. There was time for nothing. It was all such a rush. I only saw her on my way to the station. But I know she won't mind my telling you, Michael--you ought to know first of anyone--it all seems so wonderful. But I daresay--no, I see you have guessed it--I daresay I have said things in my letters that showed you it was coming--it was the grief about you that first drew us together. Fay and I are going to be married." Michael put his hand to his head. "Everything has come at once," said Wentworth. "I have you again. And I have her. I've nothing left to wish for." * * * * *