FLORENCE. 6l 



thought. " Tliey loved me and will let iiie in." Cowards! At the high 

 \s-indow overhead they stood and Ijembled while I pled and prayed : 

 "I am your child, Ginevra ; let me in! I am not dead; in mercy let 

 me in ! " " The saints in heaven forbid," replied my sire. My mother 

 sobbed and vowed whole pounds of wax to San Eustachio would he but 

 remove that fearful presence from her door. Then sharp came click of 

 gunlock ; a long tube was thru-t from out the window, and ni\- brother 

 called : " Spirit or devil, hence, or else I fire ! " 



Where should I go? Back to the ghastly tomlj and the cold, cof- 

 fined ones ? Up tlie long street, wringing my hands and weeping low, 

 I went. My feet were bare and bleeding from the stones, my hands 

 were bleeding, too. My hair hung down over my shroud — so wild and 

 strange a shape saw never Florence since. The people call the street 

 through which I walked and wrung my hands the Street of the Dead 

 Woman to this hour. The sleeping houses stood in midnight black, and 

 not a soul was in the street but I. 



At last I saw a little point of light, high over head in a dim window 

 set. I had lain down to die, but at the sight I rose, crawled on, and 

 with expiring strength knocked, sank again, and knew not even tlien it 

 was Antonio's door at which I lay. 



A v/indow opened and a \oice called out, "Chi t?" " ' Tis I: 

 Ginevra." Then I thought, now he will fall to praying like the rest and 

 drive me hence. But in a moment more the bolts were drawn, and arms 

 whose very touch was life lifteil and clasped and bore me in. "Oh, 

 ghost or angel of my buried love. I know not, care not which, be 

 welcome here! Welcome, thrice welcome, to this heart of mine!" I 

 heard him say, and then I heard no more. 



It was high noontide when I woke again to hear fierce voices wrang- 

 ling by my bed — my father's and my husband's. For with dawn, gath- 

 ering up valor, they had sought the tomb and found me gone and tracked 

 my bleeding feet over the pavement to Antonio's door. Dead, they 

 cared nothing ; living, I was theirs. Hot raged the quarrel. Then came 

 justice in, and to the court we swept to try the cause — I in my shrou'l. 



This was the verdict given : A woman who has been to burial borne, 

 closed in, locked fast and left among the dead ; who at her husband's 

 door has stood and pled for entrance, and has heard her prayer denied ; 

 who from her father's house is urged and chased, must be adjudged as 

 dead in law and fact. The court pronounces the defendant dead. She 

 may resume her former ties, at will ; or renounce them, if such be her 

 will. She is no more a daughter or a spouse, unless she choose ; but is 

 set free to form new ties if so she choose. 



' Oh, blessed words! That very day we kneeled before the priest — 

 my love and I — were wed, and life began. 



