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Chapter 13
Shehadobservedthechangethatcameoverhim.Hewouldneverunderstandwhathehaddone;andeventoherthewholethingremainedincomprehensible.Hesaidwithdifficulty—
“Givemethebook.”
Lindalaidonthetabletheclosedvolumeinitswornleathercover,theBiblegivenhimagesagobyanEnglishmaninPalermo.
“Thechildhadtobeprotected,”hesaid,inastrange,mournfulvoice.
BehindhischairLindawrungherhands,cryingwithoutnoise.Suddenlyshestartedforthedoor.Heheardhermove.
“Whereareyougoing?“heasked.
“Tothelight,”sheanswered,turningroundtolookathimbalefully.
“Thelight!Si—duty.”
Veryupright,white-haired,leonine,heroicinhisabsorbedquietness,hefeltinthepocketofhisredshirtforthespectaclesgivenhimbyDonaEmilia.Heputthemon.Afteralongperiodofimmobilityheopenedthebook,andfromonhighlookedthroughtheglassesatthesmallprintindoublecolumns.Arigid,sternexpressionsettleduponhisfeatureswithaslightfrown,asifinresponsetosomegloomythoughtorunpleasantsensation.Butheneverdetachedhiseyesfromthebookwhileheswayedforward,gently,gradually,tillhissnow-whiteheadrestedupontheopenpages.Awoodenclocktickedmethodicallyonthewhite-washedwall,andgrowingslowlycoldtheGaribaldinolayalone,rugged,undecayed,likeanoldoakuprootedbyatreacherousgustofwind.
