THE AMULET. 

BY HENDRIK CONSCIENCE, AUTHOR OF "THE CURSE OF THE VILLAGE, ""THE HAPPINESS OF BEING RICH, ""VEVA, ""THE LION OF FLANDERS, ""COUNT HUGO OF CRAENHOVE, ""WOODEN CLARA, ""THE POOR GENTLEMAN, ""RICKETICKETACK, ""THE DEMON OF GOLD, ""THE VILLAGE INN-KEEPER, ""THE CONSCRIPT, " "BLIND ROSA, ""THE MISER, ""THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER, " ETC. 

Translated Expressly for this Edition. 

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 

In the "Amulet, " Hendrick Conscience has worked up an incident whichoccurred at Antwerp, in the 16th century, into a story of great powerand deep interest. It was a dark and bloody deed committed, but swiftand terrible was the retribution, strikingly illustrating how Godlaughs the sinner to scorn, and how the most cunningly devised schemesare frustrated, when He permits the light of His avenging justice toexpose them in their enormity. On the contrary, it forcibly proves thatvirtuous actions, sooner or later, bear abundant fruit even in thisworld. If a man's sins bring upon his head a weight of woe, so do hisgood deeds draw down the benedictions of heaven and serve as a shield toprotect him from his enemies. 

S. J. F. 

_Baltimore_. 

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. PAGEANTWERP 9

CHAPTER II. SIGNOR DEODATI 30

CHAPTER III. THE PALACE OF SIMON TURCHI, AND WHAT OCCURRED THERE 43

CHAPTER IV. THE ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION--THE ASSASSINATOR SLAIN 64

CHAPTER V. VAN DE WERVE'S RECEPTION--SIMON TURCHI'S JEALOUSYAND HATRED 79

CHAPTER VI. SIMON TURCHI WREAKS HIS VENGEANCE ON GERONIMO 96

CHAPTER VII. GRIEF AT GERONIMO'S ABSENCE--TURCHI'S HYPOCRISY 112

CHAPTER VIII. SIMON TURCHI TRIES TO CONCEAL HIS CRIME 128

CHAPTER IX. GERONIMO RESURRECTED 143

CHAPTER X. SIMON TURCHI'S ALARM--CRIME BEGETS CRIME 157

CHAPTER XI. FOOD AT LAST--DEATH OF JULIO 171

CHAPTER XII. IS IT HIS GHOST?--THE GUILTY EXPOSED 180

CHAPTER XIII. MARY VAN DE WERVE'S (NOW MADAME GERONIMO DEODATI)DEPARTURE FOR ITALY--THE PUNISHMENT OF SIMONTURCHI 193

THE AMULET. 

CHAPTER I. 

Previous to the close of the fifteenth century, the direction taken byEuropean commerce remained unchanged. America had not been discovered, andthe only known route to India was by land. 

Venice, enthroned by her central position as queen of commerce, compelledthe nations of Europe and Asia to convey to her port all the riches of theworld. 

One single city, Bruges in Flanders, serving as an international mart forthe people of the North and South, shared, in some measure, the commercialprosperity of Venice; but popular insurrections and continual civil warshad induced a large number of foreign merchants to prefer Brabant toFlanders, and Antwerp was becoming a powerful rival to Bruges. 

At this period two great events occurred, by which a new channel wasopened to trade: Christopher Columbus discovered America, and Vasco deGama, by doubling the Cape of Good Hope, pointed out a new route to India. This latter discovery, by presenting another grand highway to the world, deprived Venice of the peculiar advantages of her situation, and obligedcommerce to seek a new emporium. Portugal and Spain were the most powerfulnations on sea; countless ships left their ports for the two Indies, andbrought back spices, pearls, and the precious metals for distributionthroughout the Old World. This commercial activity required an emporium inthe centre of Europe, halfway between the North and the South, whitherSpaniards, Portuguese, and Italians, as well as French, English, Germans, Swedes, and Russians, could resort with equal facility as to a perpetualmart for all the commodities exchanged between the Old and the NewWorld. [1]

A few years before the commencement of the religious wars which proved sodisastrous to the country, Antwerp was in a most flourishing condition. Thousands of ships of every form and size covered its broad river like aforest of masts, whose many-colored flags indicated the presence oftraders from all the commercial nations of the globe. 

Portuguese gallions carried thither the gems and spices of the East;Spanish gallions the gold and silver of America; Italian vessels wereladen with the delicate fruits and rich stuffs of the Southern countries;German vessels with grains and metals; and all returned to their owncountries heavily freighted with other merchandise, and made way for theships which were continually arriving, and which, according tocontemporary chronicles, were often obliged to wait six weeks before theysucceeded in approaching the wharf. [2]

Small craft, such as _hers_, ascended the Scheldt, and even ventured outto sea in order to trade with the neighboring people. Transportation intothe interior of the country was effected by means of very strong wagons, several hundred of which daily left Antwerp. The heavy vehicles whichconveyed merchandise through Cologne to the heart of Germany were called_Hessenwagens_. [3]

This extraordinary activity induced many foreigners to establishthemselves in a city where gold was so abundant, and where every one mightreasonably hope for large profits. 

At the period of which we speak, Antwerp counted among its inhabitantsnearly a thousand merchants from other countries, each of whom had his ownattendants; one chronicle estimates, perhaps with some exaggeration, thenumber of strangers engaged in commerce at five thousand. [4]

Twice a day these merchants met on Change, not only for purposes of tradeand for information of the arrival of ships, but principally for bankingoperations. 

To convey an idea of the amount of wealth at the disposal of the houses ofAntwerp, it suffices to say that the king of Portugal obtained in one dayin this city a loan of three millions of gold crowns, and Queen Mary ofEngland contracted a debt of seventy millions of francs. 

One merchant, called the rich Fugger, left at his death legacies amountingto nearly six millions of gold crowns, a sum which for that period wouldseem fabulous, if the fact were not established by indisputable documents. 

This wealth and the presence of so many nations vying with each other hadcarried luxury to such a height that magistrates were frequently obligedto publish edicts, in order to restrain the lavish expenditure. This wasnot done on account of the foreign inhabitants of the place, but for theadvantage of many noble families and the people of the middle classes, whowere tempted by the example of others to a display of magnificence whichmight have seriously injured their fortunes. 

The greater part of the Italian merchants from Lucca, Genoa, Florence, andother cities beyond the Alps, were noblemen, and from this circumstancethey were thrown into intimate intercourse with the noble families ofAntwerp, all of whom spoke fluently three or four languages, and whoparticularly studied to speak with purity and elegance the soft Italianidiom. [5]

In the _Hipdorp_, not far from the Church of St. James, stood an elegantmansion, which was the favorite resort of the élité of the Italianmerchants. It was the residence of William Van de Werve, lord of Schilde. 

Although this nobleman did not himself engage in mercantile transactions, because the aristocratic families of Brabant regarded commerce as anoccupation unsuitable to persons of high birth, [6] he was very cordial andhospitable to all strangers whose rank entitled them to admission to hishome circle. Moreover, he was extremely wealthy, luxurious in his mannerof living, and so well versed in three or four different languages, thathe could with ease enter into an agreeable and useful conversation ineither of them. 

The house of Mr. Van de Werve had still other attractions to nobleforeigners. He had a daughter of extraordinary beauty, so lovely, somodest, notwithstanding the homage offered to her charms, that heradmirers had surnamed her _la bionda maraviglia_, "the wonderful blonde. "

One morning in the year 1550 the beautiful Mary Van de Werve was seated inher father's house in a richly sculptured arm-chair. The young girl hadapparently just returned from church, as she still held in her hand arosary of precious stones, and her hood lay on a chair near her. Sheseemed to be engrossed by some pleasing thought which filled her heartwith a sweet anticipation, for a slight smile parted her lips, and hereyes were upraised to heaven as if imploring a favor from Almighty God. 

Against the wall behind her hung a picture from the pencil of John VanEyck, in which the great master had represented the Virgin in prayer, whilst she was still ignorant of the sublime destiny that awaited her. 

The artist had lavished upon this masterpiece the most ardent inspirationsof his pious and poetic genius, for the image seemed to live and think. Itcharmed by the beauty of feature, the majestic calm of expression, thesweetness of the smile, the look full of love cast from earth to heaven. 

There was a striking resemblance between the creation of the artist andthe young girl seated beneath in almost the same attitude. In truth, theyouthful Mary Van de Werve was as beautiful as the poetical representationof her patroness. She had the same large blue eyes, whose expression, although calm and thoughtful, revealed a keen sensibility and a tender, loving soul; her golden hair fell in ringlets over a brow of marblewhiteness, and no painter had ever traced a cheek of lovelier mould ormore delicate hue; her whole being expressed that calm recollection andattractive gravity which is the true poetry of the immaterial soul, andwhich was comprehended only by the believing artists of the North beforethe material inspiration of pagan art had been transmitted to them fromthe South. 

Mary Van de Werve was most richly attired; but there was in her dress anabsence of ornament which appeared strange at that period of extreme pompand show. A waist of sky-blue velvet encircled her slender form, and abrocade skirt fell in large folds to her feet. Only on her open sleevesappeared some gold thread, and the clasp which fastened the chamois-skinpurse suspended from her girdle was encrusted with precious stones. 

All her surroundings betokened her father's opulence: large stained-glasswindows, covered with the armorial bearings of his ancestors, cast theirvaried hues upon the inlaid marble floor; tables and chairs of oak, slabssupporting exquisite statuary from the chisel of the most celebratedartists, were ranged along the walls; an ivory crucifix surmounted asilver basin of rare workmanship containing holy water. Even the massiveandirons, which stood in the broad fireplace, were partly of gold andornamented with the coat of arms. 

Her prayer was finished, or it might be that her thoughts had takenanother turn; she arose and walked slowly towards the large window whichoverlooked the garden. She fixed her eyes upon the beautiful blue sky; hercountenance was bright, as though a sweet hope filled her heart, and arosy hue suffused her cheeks. 

An old man at this moment entered the room. Heavy moustaches shaded hislips, and a long beard fell upon his breast. There was something grave andsevere in his imposing appearance and even in his dress; for although hisdoublet was of gold cloth, his whole body was enveloped in a long cloak, whose dark color was relieved by a lining of white fur. 

"Good morning, Mary, " he said, as he approached the young girl. 

"May the blessing of God always be with you, dear father, " she replied. "Come, see how lovely the sky is, and how brightly the sun shines. "

"It is charming weather; we might almost imagine ourselves in the month ofMay. "

"It is the eve of May, father. " And with a joyous smile she drew herfather to the window, and pointing to the sky, said: "The wind haschanged; it blows from the direction of England. "

"True; since yesterday it has been south-east. "

"So much the better; the ships which have been kept out at sea can ascendthe Scheldt with to-day's or to-morrow's tide. "

"And you hope, " said Mr. Van de Werve, shaking his head, "that among thesevessels will be found the _Il Salvatore_, which is to bring the old SignorDeodati from Lucca?"

"I have so long implored of heaven this favorable wind, " replied the younggirl. "I thank the God of mercy that my prayer has been heard!"

Mr. Van de Werve was silent; his daughter's words had evidently made adisagreeable impression upon him. 

She passed her arm caressingly around his neck, and said:

"Dear father, you are sorrowful; and yet you promised me to awaittranquilly the arrival of Signor Deodati. "

"It is true, my child, " he replied; "but, as the time approaches when Imust come to a decision, my soul is filled with anxiety. We are thedescendants of an illustrious family, and our style of living should be somagnificent as to reflect credit on our rank. The Signor Geronimo, whomyou seem to prefer to all others, lives very economically; he dressessimply, and abstains from all that kind of expenditure which, being anevidence of wealth and chivalric generosity, elevates a man in the eyes ofthe world. That makes me fear that his uncle is either in moderatecircumstances or very avaricious. "

"But, father, permit me to say that the Signor Deodati of Lucca is veryrich and of high birth, " replied the young girl, sadly. "Did not thebanker Marco Riccardi give you satisfactory information on that point?"

"And should he be miserly, Mary, will he accept the conditions I propose?I shall demand of him the renunciation of a considerable portion of hispossessions in favor of his nephew Geronimo. Would it not be an insult toyou, which your brothers would avenge, were your hand to be refused frompecuniary motives? I regret that you have so irrevocably fixed youraffections on the Signor Geronimo, when you might have chosen among ahundred others richer and of higher estate. The head of the powerful houseof Buonvisi had more claim upon my sympathy and yours. "

"Simon Turchi!" said the young girl, sorrowfully bowing her head. 

"What has this poor Signor Turchi left undone during the past three yearsto prove his chivalric love?" replied her father. "Festivals, banquets, concerts, boating on the Scheldt, nothing has been spared; he has expendeda fortune to please you. At one time you did not dislike him; but eversince the fatal night when he was attacked by unknown assassins andwounded in the face, you look upon him with different eyes. Instead ofbeing grateful to the good Turchi, you comport yourself in such a mannertowards him, that I am induced to believe that you hate him. "

"Hate the Signor Turchi!" exclaimed Mary, as if frightened by theaccusation. "Dear father, do not indulge such a thought. "

"He is a handsome, dignified gentleman, my child. "

"Yes, father; he has long been an intimate friend of the SignorGeronimo. "[7]

Mr. Van de Werve took his daughter's hand, and said, gently: "Geronimo maybe finer-looking to a woman's eye; but his future depends upon his uncle'skindness. He is young and inexperienced, and he possesses nothing himself. The Signor Turchi, on the contrary, is rich and highly esteemed in theworld as partner and administrator of the well-known house of Buonvisi. Think better of your choice, Mary; satisfy my desires and your brothers':it is not yet too late. "

Tears filled the eyes of the young girl; she replied, however, with asweet resignation: "Father, I am your submissive child. Command, and Iwill obey without a murmur, and humbly kiss the venerated hand whichimposes the painful sacrifice. But Geronimo! poor Geronimo!"

At these words her fortitude forsook her; she covered her face with herhands, and wept bitterly; her tears fell like bright pearls upon themarble floor. 

For some moments Mr. Van de Werve contemplated his daughter withever-increasing pity; then overcome by the sight of her grief, he took herhand, and tenderly pressing it, he said to her: "Cheer up, my dear Mary, do not weep. We will see what answer the Signor Deodati will return to theconditions I will propose to him. Geronimo is of noble birth; if his unclewill consent to bestow upon him a suitable fortune, your desires shall befulfilled. "

"But, dear father, " said the still weeping girl, "that depends upon themagnitude of your demands. If you ask impossibilities of the SignorDeodati--"

"No, no, have no anxiety, " said Mr. Van de Werve, interrupting her. "Iwill endeavor to fulfil my duty as a father, and at the same time to spareyou any future sorrow. Are you satisfied now?"

Mary silently embraced her father, and her eyes expressed such gratitudethat Mr. Van de Werve was deeply moved, and said, tenderly:

"Who could refuse you anything? Age, experience, prudence, all yieldbefore one glance of your eye. Conceal your emotion; I hear some onecoming. "

A servant opened the door, and announced, "The Signor Geronimo. "

The young nobleman thus introduced was remarkable for his fine form, andthe graceful elegance of his manners and carriage. His complexion was ofthat light and clear brown which adds so much to the manly beauty of someSouthern nations. The dark beard and hair, his spirited black eyes, gave asingular charm to his countenance, while his calm and sweet smileindicated goodness of heart. 

Although upon his entrance he strove to appear cheerful, Mary's eyedetected a concealed sadness. 

The dress of Geronimo was simple in comparison with the rich attire of theother Italian nobles, his compatriots. He wore a felt hat ornamented witha long plume, a Spanish cloak, a cloth doublet lined with fur, violetsatin breeches, and gray boots. His modest attire was relieved only by thesword which hung at his side; for the hilt glittered with precious stones, and the armorial bearings engraved upon it proved him to be of noblebirth. 

"Che la pace sia in quelle casa!" (May peace be in this house!) he said, as he entered the hall. 

He bowed profoundly to Mr. Van de Werve, and saluted him mostrespectfully; but the traces of tears which he perceived on Mary's face sostartled him that he interrupted his ceremonious greetings, and fixed hiseyes inquiringly upon her. She had been weeping, and yet she smiledjoyously. 

"Mary is naturally very susceptible, Signor Geronimo, " said Mr. Van deWerve. "I was speaking to her of her beloved mother, and she wept. Youappear, and she smiles as though she knew no sorrow. "

The young girl did not await the conclusion of this explanation; beforeher father had finished speaking, she led her lover to the window, pointedto the weathercock, and said: "Look, Geronimo, the wind is from the west. "

"I noticed it last night, " replied the young man, with an involuntarysigh. 

"Rejoice then, for to-day your uncle may be in sight of the city. "

"I do not think so; however, it is possible, " said the young man, sadly. 

"How coldly you speak, Geronimo!" exclaimed the young girl, in surprise;"what cloud obscures your soul?"

"I myself notice something extraordinary in your manner, signor, " remarkedthe father. "You seem dejected; have you received bad news of your uncle?"

Geronimo hesitated for an answer; then, as though endeavoring to driveaway unpleasant thoughts, he said, in a faltering voice: "No, no, it isnot that. I witnessed just now near the Dominican Convent something whichtouched me deeply, and I have not yet recovered from the shock. Have younot heard of a Florentine merchant named Massimo Barberi?"

"Is he noble?" asked Mary. "I do not remember him. "

"No, a commoner, but a man highly esteemed. "

"I know him well, " said Mr. Van de Werve. "I met him lately in companywith Lopez de Galle, for whom he had attended to some financial affairs. What have you to tell us concerning him?"

"Something terrible, Mr. Van de Werve. I saw the corpse of poor Barberitaken out of a sewer; he had two dagger-wounds in his throat. He wasundoubtedly attacked and slain last night. "

"It is had to see so many murders committed in Antwerp, " said Mr. Van deWerve. "This is the fourth during the past month. The victims each timehave been either Spaniards or Italians, and that vengeance or jealousy wasthe cause is sufficiently proved by the fact that in no case have thebodies been despoiled of their money or jewels. This custom of lying inwait, attacking and killing each other, often without cause, is an outrageboth against God and man. And do you not yourself sometimes fear, SignorGeronimo, the assassin's dagger?"

The young man shook his head. 

"For instance, " continued Mary's father, "this is the eve of May, I neednot ask if you intend to offer to Mary the homage of a serenade. It is thecustom of your countrymen to pay this attention to young girls, and youwould not omit this opportunity were it not for the advice of a man ofexperience. Geronimo, listen to the words of calm reason: do not rashlyexpose yourself to the danger of death; abandon your design this time. Many of your compatriots have aspired to Mary's hand; they have been lesssuccessful than you, and on this account they may harbor unkind feelingstowards you. "

The young man received this advice with a smile which indicated itsrefusal. 

"It is difficult, sir, to speak of such things in the presence of the onewho is to be the object of our homage. Permit me, however, the liberty todecide upon the manner in which I will acquit myself of my duty to thisyoung lady. "

"But permit me, signor, to tell you, " said the old man, in an offendedtone, "that it does you no honor to reject the advice of a man ofexperience, in order to carry out an unimportant fancy. Rashness does notindicate courage, but rather an absence of good sense. "

"Father, " exclaimed Mary, in a supplicating tone, "be not angry withSignor Geronimo; he will incur no danger. "

"Foolish confidence!" said the old man. "Why should Geronimo think himselfless exposed to danger than others? That Geronimo should be rash isexcusable; but, Mary, you deserve a severe reprimand for encouraging yourfriend in his perilous design. "

The young girl bowed her head at this reproof of her father, and murmuredas if to excuse herself: "Geronimo has a relic, father. "

This revelation embarrassed the young man, and he glanced reproachfully atMary. 

She said, caressingly:

"Don't be displeased, Geronimo; show the relic to my father, and he willthen know why you do not fear that any accident will happen to you. "

The young man felt that he could not refuse Mary's request. He drew fromunder his doublet an object suspended on a steel chain, and, approachingMr. Van de Werve, he placed it in his hand. 

It was a flat medal of greenish copper, on which were engraven unknownletters and signs. A cross between two bent sabres, and beneath them acrescent, filled up the centre of the medal. At the foot of the cross wasa gray stone, rudely inlaid. The whole was rough and heavy. 

Mr. Van de Werve examined this medal attentively for some time; he turnedit over and over, as though he sought to comprehend the signification ofthis singular emblem. 

"A relic!" he murmured. "Here are two cimeters, a crescent, and cabalisticcharacters. It is a Mohammedan talisman, and, perhaps, an emblem shockingto our holy religion!"

"You are certainly mistaken, sir, " replied Geronimo. 

"Is not the cross placed above the crescent, and would not that signifythat the faith of Christ has triumphed over the doctrines of Mahomet?"

"But why do you call it a relic?"

"Mary so named it, not I. It is an amulet, and if it has any power, itderives it from the gray stone beneath the cross. This stone is a_draconite_, taken, at the risk of life, from the head of a dragon in thecountry of the negroes. "

A half contemptuous smile curled the lips of the old man as hecontemplated the talisman in silence. At last he said: "I remember, SignorGeronimo, to have read in Pliny curious details of the draconite and itsextraordinary powers, but I also remember that the great naturalistforgets to tell us the inherent qualities of the stone. Alas! signor, would you trust in this talisman, and believe that it could protect youagainst the dagger of the assassin? The people of the South have a strangepiety: in their superstition they confound what is holy with things whichowe their efficacy, if they possess any, to the conjurations ofsorcerers. "

The young noble colored slightly, and replied: "You are mistaken, sir, asfar as I am concerned. For my justification allow me to tell you that thisamulet belonged to a pilgrim; that it rested one entire night of GoodFriday upon the tomb of our Lord at Jerusalem; but I will be candid, andsay to you that I do not consider it possessed of the power to preserve mefrom danger. And yet I always wear it with the firm and unshakenconviction that it will protect me in a critical hour from somemisfortune. "

"Perhaps it belonged to your deceased parents, " said Mr. Van de Werve, struck by the singular explanation of the young man. 

"No, sir, " replied Geronimo; "this amulet is to me a cherished souvenir ofa day upon which God gave me the grace to perform a good action. I wouldwillingly tell you how the amulet fell into my hands, and why I believe inits power to protect me, but it is a long story. "

"I would, nevertheless, be much pleased if you would satisfy mycuriosity, " said the old noble. 

"If you desire it, " replied Geronimo, "I will comply with your wishes. 

"You know that five years ago, when I undertook for the first time thevoyage from Lucca to Antwerp, I was made prisoner by Algerian pirates, andcarried as a slave to Barbary. I was sold to a Moorish lord, who made mework in the fields until my uncle should send the ransom which wouldrestore me to liberty. In the same field in which some light work wasappointed me, I saw an old blind woman attached like a mule to a plough, and driven on by blows from a heavy stick. She was a Christian slave, whose eyes had been put out in wanton cruelty. I learned that she was anItalian by birth, a native of a small village in the environs of PortoFiero, a seaport not far from Genoa. She had no relatives who could payher ransom, and she had consequently been fastened to the plough like abeast of burden until death should come to deliver her. The frightful fateof this miserable slave so filled me with compassion, that I shed tears ofgrief and rage when I heard afar off her piercing cries as the rod of theoverseer descended upon her. One day my indignation was so roused, whenthe pagan wretches had knocked her down and were treating her even morecruelly than usual, that I dared to defend her by force. Had not my masterexpected a large sum for my ransom, a frightful death would have been thepunishment of my audacity. After being kept a few days in prison andharshly treated, I was sent back to the fields to work as before. Thecondition of the blind slave was not in the least changed; she was stillinhumanly beaten. Her misfortunes pierced my heart, and I was maddened bymy inability to protect from pagan cruelty a woman who was my sister byour common faith and a common misfortune. No longer venturing to haverecourse to force, I sought other means to mitigate her sufferings. Duringthe few hours of repose granted to us, or rather to our overseers, Ihastened to the blind woman and shared with her the best of my food; Istrove to fortify her by the hope that God would liberate her from thisterrible slavery; I told her, that should I ever become free, I wouldprocure her liberation, even were it necessary to renounce for years myown pleasures that I might amass sufficient for her ransom. I spoke to herof our country, of the goodness of God, and of the probability of myliberation. The poor blind woman kissed my hands, and called me an angelsent by God to illumine the darkness of her life by the sweet rays ofconsolation and piety. I was only a few months her fellow-slave. My uncle, learning my captivity through messengers I had employed, sent to Algiersan armed vessel to liberate me. Besides the amount of my ransom, he sentme means to transport some valuable merchandise from Barbary to Italy. When I took leave of the blind woman, I was so deeply touched by hersorrow, that I pondered upon the means of restoring her to liberty. It istrue that in order to effect this, I would be obliged to employ a largeportion of the money sent me by my uncle for the purchase of merchandise, and I was convinced that my uncle, who was inflexible in exacting fidelityto commercial regulations, would overwhelm me with his anger, but my heartgained the ascendency over my reason, and Christian charity triumphed. Listening only to my compassion, I ransomed the unfortunate woman, andwith my own hands I unbound her chains. That was the happiest moment of mylife. "

Mary and her father were both touched by the recital of the young man. 

"Oh, Geronimo, " exclaimed Mary, "may God bless you for having been socompassionate to the poor Christian slave!"

"You did well, Geronimo, " said Mr. Van de Werve, "and I esteem and loveyou more for your generosity to the unfortunate blind woman. How happy herunexpected liberation must have made her!"

"When I told her she was free, and that she could accompany me to hernative land, she was almost wild with joy; she laughed and wept by turns;she cast herself upon the ground, and raising her hands to heaven, thankedGod; she embraced my knees and watered my feet with her tears. Not knowinghow to testify her gratitude, she drew this strange amulet from her bosomand presented it to me, conjuring me to wear it always. She told me thatit possessed the power of protecting and saving the one who carried it onhis person, when all human aid failed or was insufficient. As to theorigin of the amulet, she only knew that it had been brought back fromJerusalem by one of her ancestors, who had made a pilgrimage thither inexpiation of an involuntary homicide, and from that time it had been, religiously guarded in their family as a precious relic. She had no doubtof its power, and related many strange things to justify her faith. Shemaintained that she owed to the amulet her unexpected return to Italy. "

"Does she still live?" asked Mary. 

"When in sight of Italy, I put her on board of a boat bound to PortoFiero; I gave her a small sum of money, and begged the boatman to attendto her comforts. Poor Teresa Mostajo--that is her name--I doubt not, isliving peacefully in her native village, and prays much for me. This isthe only reason why I attribute any virtue to the amulet; I believe in theprotection of this sign because it has been sanctified by an act ofChristian charity, and by the grateful prayers of the poor blind womantormented by the pagans for the name of Christ. "

The old cavalier remained a moment silent, absorbed in thought. Thentaking the hand of the young man, he said to him: "I did not know youbefore, Geronimo. I hope it may be in my power to prove to you how muchyour generosity ennobles you and elevates you in my esteem; but althoughyour confidence in the amulet rests on so laudable a sentiment, I wouldnot rely too much upon it. You know the proverb says: 'Help yourself, andHeaven will help you. '"

"Do not suppose, Mr. Van de Werve, that on that account I would be guiltyof any foolish imprudence. I know that the eye and sword are goodsentinels. When I pass through the streets at night, I am always wellaccompanied, and my hand never leaves the hilt of my sword. Therefore haveno anxiety on this point, and permit me to perform my duty to her to whomI owe homage and respect. "

At that moment the painted--glass windows trembled under the stroke of alarge clock from some neighboring belfry. This suddenly turned Mary'sthoughts into another channel. 

"The clock of St. James is striking ten, " she said. 

"Father, will you walk with me to the dock-yard to see if any new shipshave arrived?"

"What is the hour of high tide?" her father asked Geronimo. 

"At noon, " he replied. 

"Why need we go so soon to the dock-yard?" asked the old cavalier. "Manydays may yet pass before the _Il Salvatore_ appears in the Scheldt. Do notfear, Mary, that the Signor Deodati will take us by surprise. Don Pezoa, the agent of the king of Portugal, has given orders that I shall benotified as soon as the galley we are awaiting is signaled in the river, at noon. "

He was interrupted by the entrance of a servant, who announced that theChevalier John Van Schoonhoven, [8] the bailiff, desired to speak with him. 

Geronimo was about to withdraw, but Mr. Van de Werve said to him, cordially:

"Remain, signor; I will send Petronilla, Mary's duenna as a companion forher; the interview with the Chevalier Schoonhoven may not detain me long. We will afterwards go to the dock-yard, and we will at least enjoy thefine weather. Stay, I beg you. "

Hardly had he left the hall when an old woman entered, and seated herselfnear the door. She drew a chaplet from her pocket, and commenced prayingin a low voice. This was apparently an habitual act with her, for neitherthe young girl nor the young man took the least notice of the duenna. 

Mary approached her lover, and said, gaily: "Rejoice, Geronimo! My fatherhas just promised not to propose very heavy conditions to your uncle. "

"I am most grateful for his kindness, " said the young man, sadly. 

"What can be the matter?" asked Mary, surprised by his indifference. "Inoticed you were depressed when you first came. Be more hopeful; perhapsthe _Il Salvatore_ will ascend the Scheldt to-day. "

"God grant it may not arrive!" said Geronimo, heaving a deep sigh. 

"Do you then fear your uncle's arrival?" exclaimed Mary, in an agitatedvoice. 

"Do not speak so loud, Mary; your duenna must not hear what I am about tocommunicate to you. Yes; since yesterday morning I have dreaded my uncle'sarrival. Previously I implored it of Heaven as the choicest blessing, andnow the thought of it makes me tremble. "

"Have you then heard from your uncle?"

"Alas! my friend, at the very moment when all seemed the brightest, when Iwas thanking God for a happiness which I thought already mine, a darkcloud comes to overshadow my life. I seem even now to hear my uncle'svoice pronouncing the cruel sentence which condemns me to a life-longsorrow. "

The young girl turned deadly pale, and anxiously awaited an explanationof the mystery. 

"My beloved Mary, " he whispered, "it is a secret which I can only confideto you in part, and which in strict honor I should perhaps concealentirely. Four weeks ago a merchant, highly esteemed, was left by acurious train of circumstances without funds, and he begged me to lend himten thousand crowns. Should I refuse his request, the credit of his housewould be irretrievably ruined. His name I considered sufficient securityfor ten times the amount he wished to borrow. At all events, although itpained me to disobey my uncle's positive injunctions, I could not deny theassistance which was asked of me. I lent the ten thousand crowns, andobtained a receipt with a written promise of payment in one month. Yesterday the note fell due; my debtor asks a delay until to-morrow. I methim an hour ago, and he has not yet obtained the money. "

"But if your debtor is rich and powerful, you need not indulge your fearsto-day; to-morrow, perhaps, he will fulfil his promise, " remarked theyoung girl, with ill-concealed anxiety. 

"My fears may mislead me, Mary, but I am sure that my debtor's affairs arein a very bad condition. At his urgent entreaty I made no entry of theloan upon the books, in order to conceal the transaction from the clerks;but still I have not the amount in hand. O Mary! my uncle has an eagle eyein business affairs; he will at once discover the deficit of ten thousandcrowns--a deficit resulting from my lending money: a thing he has alwayswarned me against, and which, even recently, he strictly forbade. My uncleis a good father to me, but this act of disobedience is sufficient todeprive me forever of his favor. I foresee many future evils. "

"Why were you so imprudent, Geronimo? You ought to have refused so large aloan. "

"I could not possibly refuse, Mary. "

"But you hold an acknowledgment of the debt and a promise of payment. Summon this merchant before the magistrates; at Antwerp justice ispromptly and impartially dealt to all. "

"Impossible!" replied the young man, in a plaintive voice; "my debtor is aman to whom I owe many obligations; a complaint from me would be the causeof irreparable ruin to him. Let us hope that he will succeed in procuringthe ten thousand crowns. He told me even this morning that he wouldendeavor to give me bills of exchange on Spain. "

"But of whom are you speaking?" said Mary; "your language is somysterious. "

"I will not tell his name. Be not offended by my reserve; there is betweenmerchants a law of secrecy which honor forbids us to violate. "

Mary appeared to respect this law; but she was evidently absorbed inbitter reflections. 

Either the communication of his difficulties to his beloved had given himnew strength, or the sight of her sorrow made him affect a confidence hedid not feel, for he said to her in a cheerful manner:

"Come, Mary, you must not yield to discouragement. Perhaps I exaggeratethe danger. My debtor is a member of a house which equals any other inconsideration and wealth. In a few days, to-day even, or to-morrow, he mayacquit himself of the debt, and should my uncle arrive before therestitution, I will endeavor to delay his examination of the books. "

He took the young girl's hand, and exclaimed, with joyous enthusiasm: "OMary, my beloved, may Heaven be propitious to our vows! May thebenediction of the priest descend upon our union! We will pass in Italythe first months of our happy life; Italy--that earthly paradise where Godhas lavished all the treasures of nature, and man all the treasures ofart. "

They heard Mr. Van de Werve's voice in the hall giving urgent orders tothe servants. 

"Mary, " said Geronimo, "your father is coming. I implore you not todivulge, in any manner, what I have told you. Keep my secret even fromyour father; remember that the least indiscretion might cause the ruin ofan honorable merchant. "

"Make haste, Geronimo; Mary, prepare for a drive, " exclaimed Mr. Van deWerve, as he entered the hall. "Signor Deodati has arrived; the _IlSalvatore_ is in sight. Don Pezoa has just sent me information to thateffect, and he has placed his gondola and boatmen at our service. Theweather is beautiful and calm; we will go to meet the _Il Salvatore_. "

Mary, as though forgetting in this unexpected news all that Geronimo hadtold her, ran joyfully and put on her hood before her duenna had time toapproach her. Geronimo also looked happy, and prepared to meet his unclewithout loss of time. 

In a few minutes all was ready; the horses were harnessed to the carriage, the great gate was flung open, and the equipage was driven rapidly throughthe street. 

CHAPTER II. 

SIGNOR DEODATI. 

On that day the Scheldt presented at Antwerp a striking spectacle. Manyships which had been detained in the North Sea by the east wind wereapproaching the city, with their various colored flags floating on thebreeze, while, far as the eye could reach, the broad expanse of water wascovered with sails, and still, in the dim horizon, mast after mast seemedto arise from the waves as harbingers of an immense flotilla. 

The sailors displayed gigantic strength in casting anchor and manoeuvringtheir vessels so as to obtain an advantageous position. The crews of thedifferent ships vied with each other, and exerted themselves soenergetically that the heavily laden crafts trembled under the strainedcables. From each arose a song wild and harsh as the sharp creaking of thecapstan, but joyous as the triumphant shout of a victorious army. Thesechants, sung in every tongue of the commercial world by robust sailors, seemed, as they were wafted over the river to the city, like the long, loud acclamations of a vast multitude. 

The only sounds which could be heard in the midst of these confused crieswere the voices of the captains speaking through the trumpets; and when aPortuguese gallion, coming from the West Indies, appeared before the city, a salvo of cannon rose like the rolling of thunder above all other sounds. 

The sun shone brightly upon this animated scene of human activity, andbroke and sparkled in colored light up in the rippling waves of the broadriver. 

Hundreds of flags floated in the air; gondolas and longboats furrowed thewaters; from boat and wharf joyous greetings of friends mingled with thesong of the sailors. Even the wagoners from beyond the Rhine, who hadranged their strongly-built wagons near the cemetery of Burg, in order toload them with spices for Cologne, could not resist the influence of thebeautiful May-day and the general hilarity; they collected near the gateof the dock-yard, and entoned in their German tongue a song so harmoniousand sweet, and yet so manly, that every other sound in their vicinity washushed. 

At this moment an elegant vehicle passed the gate of the dock-yard, andstopped near the German wagoners as the last strain of their song diedupon the air. 

A young man, and after him an old man and a young girl richly attired, alighted from the carriage. 

Those immediately around, merchants as well as workmen, steppedrespectfully aside and saluted Mr. Van de Werve, whilst glancingadmiringly at his daughter. Some Italians of lower rank murmured loudenough to reach Mary's ears: "_Ecco la bionda maraviglia_. "

Mr. Van de Werve ordered his people to await him at the gate of thedock-yard, and passed on, saluting those whom he met, to the place wherethe Portuguese flag indicated the gondola of Lopez de Galle, which wasprepared to receive him. They threw a carpet across the plank upon whichMary was to step in passing into the gondola. Mary, her father, andGeronimo entered the boat; the six oars dipped simultaneously into thewater, and, pushed by the strong arms of the Portuguese sailors, thegondola sped rapidly through the waves. Swift as a fish and light as aswan, it skimmed the surface of the Scheldt, and made many a turn throughthe numerous vessels until it had succeeded in finding an open way downthe river. Then the sailors exerted all their strength, as if to show thebeautiful young girl what they were capable of in their trade. Thegondola, obeying the impulse given it by the oarsmen, bounded forwardunder each stroke of the oars, and gracefully poised itself on the wavescaused by its rapid passage. 

Complete silence reigned in the gondola; the sailors looked with timidadmiration upon the beautiful countenance of the young girl. Mary, withdowncast eyes, was persuading herself that Geronimo's uncle wouldundoubtedly consent to their union. The young man was absorbed in thought, and yielded by turns to joy, hope, and fear. Mr. Van de Werve contemplatedthe city, and seemed to enjoy the magnificent spectacle presented byAntwerp when seen at a distance, and which, with its lofty towers andsplendid edifices, rose from the river like another Venice. 

Suddenly Geronimo rose and pointed in the distance, exclaiming, joyously, "See, the _Il Salvatore!_"

Mary, glancing around, eagerly asked: "Where? Is it the vessel bearing ared cross on its flag?"

"No, Mary, it is behind the ships of war; it is that large vessel withthree masts--on its flag is a picture of the Saviour: _Il Salvatore_. "

While the gondola rapidly sped on its way, the eyes of all were fixed uponthe galley, in order, if possible, to distinguish the features of thosewho stood on deck. 

Suddenly Geronimo clapped his hands, exclaiming, "God be praised! I see myuncle. "

"Which is he?" inquired Mr. Van de Werve. 

The young man replied, joyously: "Do you not see standing on theforecastle five or six passengers who wear parti-colored dresses, withplumed hats? In the midst of them is a man of lofty stature, completelyenveloped in a brown cloak. He has long white hair, and his silvery beardlooks like snow-flakes resting on his dark mantle. That is my old uncle, Signor Deodati. "

"What a superb-looking old man!" exclaimed Mary, in admiration. 

"In truth, " said Mr. Van de Werve, "as well as I can judge at thisdistance, his appearance is very striking. "

"My uncle inspires respect wherever he goes, " said the young man, enthusiastically. "His sixty-five years appear on his brow as an aureolaof experience and wisdom; he is learned, good, and generous. "

And waving his hat, he cried out: "Ah, he recognizes us! He salutes us; hesmiles. At last I see him after four years of separation. My God, I thankthee for having protected him!"

The young man's joy was so great that Mary and her father were also moved. 

"So lively an affection for your uncle does you credit, Geronimo, " saidMr. Van de Werve. "God loves a grateful heart; may He grant you to-day thedesires of your heart!"

But the young man did not hear these words of encouragement; standing inthe gondola, he waved to his uncle as if endeavoring to express to him bysigns his joy at seeing him. 

The gondola approached the galley, which slowly ascended the Scheldt in afavorable wind and with a rising tide. 

The light boat soon gained the large ship. Before the ladder was lowered, Geronimo caught the cable of the galley, and ere Mary had recovered fromher terror, he had reached the deck and was in his uncle's arms. 

Mr. Van de Werve mounted the ladder cautiously, and approached SignorDeodati, with whom he exchanged the most cordial salutations. 

Mary remained in the gondola; she saw Geronimo embrace his unclerepeatedly; she rejoiced to perceive that the eyes of the old man werefilled with tears of emotion. She was still more happy when she saw theaffability with which her father and Geronimo's uncle conversed together, as though they were old friends. 

Very soon the Signor Deodati descended into the gondola to accompany Mr. Van de Werve and Geronimo to the city. 

The Flemish cavalier introduced his daughter to the Italian noble. 

The old man gazed upon the ravishing beauty of the young girl inspeechless admiration. Mary's lovely features were illumined by anenchanting smile which moved the old man's heart; her large blue eyes werefixed upon him with so soft and supplicating an expression that the SignorDeodati, extending his hand, murmured: "_E la graziosa donzella!_" (Thebeautiful girl!)

But Mary, encouraged by his look of affection, and unconsciously urged bya mysterious instinct, extended both hands to the old man, who folded herin his arms and pressed her to his heart. 

Geronimo, overjoyed at the reception given to Mary by his uncle, turnedaside to conceal his emotion. 

"_Iddio vi dia pace in nostra patria!_ May God grant you peace in ourcountry, Signor Deodati!" said Mary, taking the old man's hand. "Come sitby me; I am so happy to know you. Do not think me bold; Geronimo hasspoken so much of you, that I have long respected and loved you. And then, in our Netherlands we always welcome a stranger as a brother. "

Signor Deodati seated himself by her as she desired, and as the gondolareturned to the city, the old man said, in surprise: "But you speakItalian like a native of Lucca. How soft and musical my native tonguesounds from your lips!"

"There is my teacher, " said Mary, pointing to Geronimo. 

"That is not true, my uncle. Her modesty causes her to mislead you. MissVan de Werve speaks equally well both Spanish and French, nor is sheignorant of Latin. "

"Can that be so?" asked the elder Deodati, with an incredulous smile. 

"That is nothing extraordinary in our city of Antwerp, " said Mr. Van deWerve. "Most ladies of noble birth, and even merchants' daughters, speaktwo or three foreign languages. It is a necessity rather than a pleasurefor us; for since the people of the South will not or can not learn ourtongue, we are obliged to become familiar with theirs. "

The Signor Deodati, as though a new and sudden thought possessed his mind, seized his nephew's hand, and fixing his eyes affectionately upon him, said in a calm tone: "I am pleased with you, Geronimo. Young as you are, you have conducted prudently the affairs of a large commercial house; youhave acted as an experienced man; in order to please me, you have deniedyourself pleasures which are so seductive to youth. Taking the place ofyour father, I have kept a vigilant eye upon you, and it gladdens my oldheart to know that I have in my successor a virtuous cavalier and aprudent merchant. I know your desires, my son. Be not disturbed, buthopeful. I undertook a long voyage only to recompense you, if possible, for your gratitude. "

He arose, and said to Mary: "I am loath to leave you, my dear young lady;but I have a few words to say privately to your father. You will excuse memore readily, as I yield my place to Geronimo. "

Saying this, he walked with Mr. Van de Werve to the extremity of the boat, where both seated themselves upon a bench. 

Trembling with fear, hope, and joyous anticipations, Mary and Geronimowatched the two parents, endeavoring to divine from the expression oftheir countenances the result of their conversation. At first both wereperfectly calm; by degrees they grew more excited; the derisive smile onthe lips of Mr. Van de Werve betrayed the bitterness of his feelings, asthe Signor Deodati in a decided manner counted on his fingers. They werediscussing the great affair--the dowry and inheritance. Their only thoughtwas money!

Geronimo turned pale as he saw his uncle shake his head with evidentdissatisfaction; and Mary trembled as she noticed the displeasedexpression of her father. 

The private conversation lasted a long time, and still took no favorableturn; on the contrary, the two old men ceased speaking, as thoughdispleased with each other. 

Signor Deodati addressed a question to Mr. Van de Werve, to which thelatter replied negatively. 

Both then arose, and approaching Geronimo and Mary, sat down in silence. Their countenances betrayed vexation and mutual displeasure. 

The young man, with tearful eyes, looked inquiringly at his uncle. Marybowed her head, but her heaving bosom gave evidence of the struggle of herheart. 

For some time there was a painful silence in the gondola. Mr. Van deWerve contemplated his daughter, who seemed overwhelmed by sorrow. SignorDeodati was deeply moved by Geronimo's earnest gaze. 

The Italian noble was the first to break silence. "Come, sir, " he said, "let us make these young people happy. "

"With all my heart, signor; but what will you do? My daughter is descendedfrom an illustrious house; she must live in the world in a manner to dohonor to her birth; as her father, I have duties to fulfil which I cannotdisregard. "

"Poor Geronimo!" said the Signor Deodati, in a tone of compassion, andwith a deep sigh. "You would accuse me of cruelty, would you not? and thislovely young girl would hate the old man for his insensibility. It was notfor that I crossed the seas in my old age. "

He reflected a few minutes, then extending his hand to Mr. Van de Werve, he said: "My lord, I wish to show my good-will. I accept entirely yourconditions, and in recompense for my sacrifices I ask only yourfriendship. Shall our children then be happy?"

Mr. Van de Werve grasped cordially the hand which was extended to him, andsaid to his daughter: "Mary, embrace this good gentleman; he will be yoursecond father. "

Mary cast herself into the arms of the old man; a cry of joy escaped thelips of Geronimo; even the sailors, although they comprehended but littleof what they saw, were touched. 

Whilst they were yet exchanging felicitations, the gondola swept aroundthe point of land which had concealed the city from view, and Antwerp, with its thousand vessels, its lofty spires and noble edifices, lay spreadout in all its majestic beauty before the eyes of Signor Deodati. 

A cry of admiration burst from his lips. 

"_O che bella citta!_ What a beautiful city!" he exclaimed. 

"What is that magnificent tower, which like sculptured lace lifts itsbeautiful spire proudly to heaven, and like a giant looks down upon allothers? What are those singular buildings whose rounded cupolas andpointed roofs so far exceed in height the surrounding houses? Oh! let thegondola float with the current; your city enchants me, and I wish to enjoythe view for a few moments. "

Mr. Van de Werve gratified the curiosity of the Italian gentleman bypointing out to him the most remarkable buildings of the city, saying:"Before you now is the new city constructed at his own expense byGillibert de Schoonbeke--a man to whom Antwerp owes its later increase andthe creation of countless streets and houses. [9] Those large and massivetowers, in which you may notice loopholes, and which stand immediatelyupon the Scheldt, were the ancient fortifications of the city. That small, graceful spire is the Convent of Faucon; it is called here, Our Lady ofValkenbroek. Yonder, near the river, is the church of Borgt, the oldesttemple of our city; for in 642 a wooden chapel stood on the spot, and in1249 it was consecrated as a parish church, just as it now is. [10] Thatlofty edifice at the foot of the gigantic tower of Notre Dame is theentrepôt of Spain. Every nation has its own manufactories and magazines, where every one may claim the protection of his flag. The massive, unfinished tower belongs to the church of Saint James; the original planwas to elevate it above the spire of Notre Dame, but the work has beenlong discontinued for want of funds. Do you see, a little further on, thatsquare building surmounted by a dome? It is the palace of Fugger, theCroesus of our times: he was elevated to the nobility by Maximilian onaccount of his wealth. Furnishing money to kings and nations, he sees golddaily pouring into his coffers, and if God does not interfere, the royalpower will bow before that of the opulent banker. On the right you havethe church of Saint Andrew, and near it the convent of Saint Michael, where our Emperor Charles stays when he visits his good city ofAntwerp. "[11]

While the gondola was skimming over the surface of the water, and Mr. Vande Werve was explaining to Signor Deodati the various edifices which wereworthy of remark, there stood upon the shore, at a corner of thedock-yard, a man who coolly followed the boat with his eyes, and whoendeavored to comprehend what was passing in the gondola, and to discoverwhat might be the emotions of the young man and the young girl who wereseated within it. 

Notwithstanding the fine weather, the man was enveloped in an ample cloak, and wore a hat with broad brim, over which fell a purple plume. Hisdoublet was of gold cloth, and his breeches were of brown satin. At hisside glittered the jewelled hilt of a sword. 

He was of lofty stature, and his whole bearing indicated noble birth; hisstyle of dress and black hair and eyes attested his Italian origin. Themost remarkable thing about his person was a long narrow scar across hisface, as though he had been wounded by a sharp blade. The mark was notdisfiguring, particularly when his features were in repose; but when hewas agitated by some violent passion or uncontrollable emotion, the edgesof the scar assumed different hues, and appeared of a dull white mixedwith red and purple. 

At the moment of which we speak his eyes were fixed upon the gondola withan expression of irritated jealousy, and his lips were stronglycontracted. The color of the scar had changed with his increasing emotion, and it was of a deep red. He stood so near the water that his feet touchedit, and thus he prevented any one from passing before him and witnessingthe tumult of his soul. 

Even the peculiar expression of his countenance did not betray the currentof his thoughts; but certainly he was preoccupied by no good design, forhis whole demeanor bespoke a wild despair and burning jealousy. 

For some time he watched in the same attitude the course of the gondola, which drifted with the current, until he saw the oarsmen seize their oars, and he supposed they were about to land. 

Then his whole frame shook convulsively under his efforts to control hisemotion. He became exteriorly calm, the scar on his cheek paled, and in anunconcerned manner, with a light step and bright smile, he walked alongthe wharf to the spot where he supposed the gondola would stop. 

Geronimo, who had seen him approaching, sprung upon the bank before theboat was moored, and ran to him with singular haste. He took his hand, andsaid in an undertone:

"_Ebbene, caro mio Simone?_ Have you obtained the money, Simon? My unclehas arrived. Should he discover that the money-vault lacks so considerablea sum, you and I are both lost. But you have the money, have you not? Youwill give it to me to-day?"

"Pity me, Geronimo, " said the other, sighing. "Various fatal circumstancesrender all my efforts unavailing. "

"You have not the money?" murmured the young man, despairingly. 

"No; to-morrow, or perhaps day after to-morrow. "[12]

"Good heavens! suppose my uncle reproves me in anger. I implore you, Simon, to procure the amount. Do not cause my destruction!"

"Oh!" muttered the other, in a hoarse, altered voice, "were I to be thecause of any misfortune to you, I would avenge you upon myself in a bloodymanner. "

"No, no, " said the young man, in a compassionate tone, "banish thesehorrible thoughts. I will wait; I will seek a delay, and endeavor todivert my uncle's attention for a few days. Alas! I am filled withanxiety: at the very moment, too, that my uncle has consented to mymarriage with Mary!"

Simon's face became fearfully contorted. 

"Your uncle has consented?" he said, in a stifled voice. 

"And Mr. Van de Werve?"

"He agrees to it also. O Simon! pardon me my happiness. I know, my poorfriend, that this news is most painful to you; but did we not loyallypromise each other, that were one of us to succeed in our suit, it shouldnot break our long-tried friendship?"

"Fool! God has abandoned me!" muttered the other between his teeth. 

"There is my uncle with Mr. Van de Werve, " said Geronimo. 

"Cheer up, Simon; hide your emotion. When I am my own master, I will aidyou in your affairs. In the meantime put your trust in God. "

The man with the scar made a powerful effort to control himself, andadvancing cheerfully to meet Mr. Van de Werve, he said to his companion:

"My emotion was natural under the circumstances; now that the blow hasfallen, it is all over. Pained as I am, Geronimo, I congratulate youcordially. If I could only obtain the money, and spare you anythingdisagreeable! I will do all in my power. "

Mr. Van de Werve joined them, and after the first salutations said to theold Deodati: "I am happy to present to you my friend, the Signor SimonTurchi, who is at the head of the house of the Buonvisi, and whofrequently does me the honor to visit me. "

"Ah! I know him well, " said Deodati, cordially taking Simon's hand. "Thesignor is from Lucca, and the son of an esteemed friend. "

"You are welcome this side of the Alps, Signor Deodati, " replied SimonTurchi. "My father often spoke of your mutual friendship. May God grantyou prosperity in Brabant!"

"I am under many obligations to you, signor, " replied the old Deodati, "for the affectionate interest you have shown in my nephew. That mybusiness affairs have been as well transacted in this country as though Ihad been here myself, I am indebted to your experience and wise counsels. I know from Geronimo's letters that he is sensible of the favor and deeplygrateful for it. "

Simon Turchi was about to disclaim the praise bestowed upon him, but thecarriage drew near, and Mr. Van de Werve said:

"I hope, signor, that you will honor us with your company this evening. Wewill pass together a few hours with our noble guest. "

Simon excused himself, saying that some important commercial affairsdemanded his attention; but as Mary and Geronimo urged him to accept theinvitation, he promised to see them, at least for a short time. 

They bade adieu as the carriage drove out of the gate of the dock-yard. 

Simon Turchi followed it with his eyes, immovable as a statue, until thesound of the rolling wheels was lost in the distance. Then he convulsivelycrossed his arms and dropped his head, as though the certainty of aterrible misfortune had overwhelmed him. 

He remained a long time plunged in thought; but he was startled from hisreverie by a vehicle which dashed along near him, and by the call of thedriver warning him of his danger. He stepped aside and looked around him, as though seeking a way of escape from the wharf and the crowd of workmen. He walked slowly towards the church of Saint Walburga, and around the wallenclosing the cemetery. He entered, wandered awhile among the tombs, untilreaching an obscure spot, where he was concealed by an angle of thechurch, he paused. 

He pressed his brow with his hands, as if to shut out painful thoughts;the scar on his face frequently changed color, and at intervals his wholeframe shook with emotion. At last, as if his reflections had assumed adetermined form, he muttered:

"The arm-chair? it is not completed! And then he would be too late. Adagger, a sword, an assassin lying in wait? If Julio were only morecourageous; but he is a cowardly boaster. Why did I take into my servicesuch a poltroon? He would not dare run the risk of striking a fatal blow;but I can force him to it, force him even to be bold. I need but pronouncehis real name; but the murder of a friend is a frightful crime; and then, perhaps, to be discovered, betrayed--to die on a scaffold like a commonfelon--I, the head of the house of the Buonvisi!"[13]

This thought made him shudder. After a few moments' reflection, he said, more calmly: "I will go to the bailiff Van Schoonhoven; he has espoused mycause with Mr. Van de Werve; he will, perhaps, be offended that Mary'shand has been disposed of contrary to his urgent solicitations. Perhaps hemay have influence to prevent the marriage. "

An ironical smile curled his lip. 

"Fool that I am!" he muttered. "And the ten thousand crowns? and thedisgrace of bankruptcy? Oh, the infernal thought! might I not take from acorpse the acknowledgment of the debt? I will go to Mr. Van de Werve's; Imust speak with Geronimo; I must know where tins evening he--"

The words died upon his lips, and a sudden terror shook him from head tofoot. 

He had heard behind him the voice of a man who spoke in a low tone, andwho seemed to be a spy. 

Could he have heard what Simon Turchi had so imprudently spoken in thissolitary corner of the cemetery?

Turning in his anguish, he saw two persons, three or four steps behindhim, looking at him with a mocking air. 

Under other circumstances the Italian cavalier would certainly have calledthe unknown men to account for their insolent curiosity; but fear deprivedhim of all courage and energy. 

He dropped his head, concealed his face as far as possible, crossed thecemetery with long and rapid strides, and disappeared behind the wall ofthe enclosure. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE PALACE OF SIMON TURCHI, AND WHAT OCCURRED THERE. 

Not far from the bridge De la Vigne, Simon Turchi had a magnificentdwelling, where the offices of the commercial house of Buonvisi weresituated; but he possessed also, at the extremity of the city, pleasure-grounds, where in fine weather he was accustomed to invite hisfriends and acquaintances to festivals, banquets, and concerts. Hisdomains were near the church of Saint George, surrounded by groundsbelonging to the hospital. 

Exteriorly it appeared to be only a wall of enclosure, shaded by loftytrees, and without openings. Against the horizon were seen two glitteringweathercocks surmounting two small towers arising in the midst of foliage. Within there was, however, a vast garden diversified with winding paths, flowery parterres, hillocks, and grottos. Here and there, scattered amongthe thickets of verdure, appeared marble statues representing principallythe gods of pagan mythology. In the centre of the garden was a pond, inwhich seemed to float a crowd of monstrous animals, such as dragons, basilisks, lizards, and salamanders. It was a fountain; and when therobinets were opened these monsters spouted the water in every directionfrom their eyes and mouths. 

But at the bottom of the garden and at some distance from the wall ofenclosure was an antique pavilion of gray-stone, the walls of which werenearly covered with ivy, and which, in spite of their dark hue, presenteda very picturesque appearance. 

With the exception of the small and narrow windows, which were protectedby iron bars, and the staircase of slate which gave admittance, this heavybuilding presented nothing remarkable, unless it were two round turrets, which rose above the surrounding roofs and even above the gigantic treesin its vicinity. 

The garden had been evidently long neglected, for all the walks werecovered with weeds, and in the flower-beds were the half decayed propswhich had supported the plants of the previous autumn. The statues werespotted by the dust and rain; a fine moss covered the monsters of thefountains, and the little water remaining in the pond was stagnant. 

These evidences of the absence of man, the sombre hue of the edifice, theshrubs growing untrimmed, but, above all, the complete silence, gave amournful air of abandonment to the place, and in this solitude the soulwas necessarily filled with painful reflections. 

It was already late in the afternoon; the sun was about to sink below thehorizon, its slanting rays illumined only the weathercocks on the top ofthe towers. Within the thickets and at the entrance of the grottos, nightalready reigned. Not the slightest sound was heard in this place. Thenoise of the people at work in the city resounded in the air, the chimingof the church-bells was wafted from the distance over this solitarydwelling; but as no sound arose from the habitation itself, the distanthum from an active multitude rendered the silence of the spot all the morestriking. 

Only at intervals a dull sound like the grating noise of a file seemed toissue from the old edifice; but it was so indistinct and so ofteninterrupted that it was not sufficient to destroy the solitude and silenceof the place. 

Suddenly two heavy strokes, as if from a hammer, resounded through thegarden. Some one had knocked at the exterior door for admittance. 

A few moments afterwards a man appeared on the staircase of the pavilion, and descended into the garden. 

He was tall and slender; his hair and beard were red, and a red moustachecovered his upper lip. His cheeks, though sunken and emaciated, were veryred. His eyes were wild in their expression. His arms and legs were ofextraordinary length; his movements were heavy and slow, as though hislimbs had been dislocated and his muscles without strength. 

His dress denoted him to be a menial: he wore a vest of black leather, ared doublet and breeches of the same color, without embroidery orornament. 

At this moment his sleeves were rolled up, and his thin arms were bare tothe elbows. In his hand he held a file, and apparently he had beeninterrupted in some urgent work by the knock at the door. Having reachedthe outer door, he drew a key from his doublet, and asked in Italian:

"Who knocks?"

"Open the door, Julio; it is your companion Bernardo, " was the reply inthe same tongue. 

"Of course, on the way you stopped at the _Camel_, and drank some pots ofHamburg beer? Did you bring me as much as a pint?" asked the man with thered beard. "Nothing? have you nothing? I have worked until I am exhausted;I am dying of hunger, and no one thinks of me. Let me see the spring. "

Saying these words, he took from his companion's hands a bent steel springand examined it attentively, closing and opening it as if to judge of itsform and power of resistance. 

Bernardo was a deformed man of low stature; the projection on his backmight be styled a hump--it was so prominent. His physiognomy denotedpusillanimity; but there was, at the same time, a malicious sparkle in hiseye, and it was with a mocking smile that he contemplated the man with thered beard. 

The latter said to him in a commanding tone: "The spring appears to begood. Go bring me a pint of Rhenish wine from the Saint George. "

"You know well that our master has forbidden it. Let me go; the signorordered me to return immediately to the factory. "

"Get me the wine, or I will break this spring in a thousand pieces overyour hump. "

"Always threatening!" muttered Bernardo. "You know I am not wanting ingood-will. I will go for the wine; give me the money. "

"Money? I have not a farthing in my pocket. Lend me the price of thispint. "

"My purse is empty, Julio; but yours? Our master gave you ever so manyshillings yesterday. You told me so yourself. "

"Bah! the dice made way with the whole of it. "

"Hardened gambler!" said Bernardo, with a sigh. "You would risk your soulat the gaming-table if any one held out to you a gold coin. "

"Very likely!" replied Julio, in an indifferent tone; "my soul is hardlyworth more. "

"What impious words! We are alone now, but there is One above who hearswhat we say. He will punish you, Julio. "

The red-haired man shrugged his shoulders. 

"Continue your dissolute habits, " resumed Bernardo; "lose your money ingambling, drown your senses in intoxication: at the end of this path thereis a gallows, and behind it the devil, to whom all such souls are welcome. Adieu! reflect upon my words, and remember that the justice of God willone day demand an account of your life. Adieu!"

Julio sprang towards the small door, locked it, and put the key in hispocket. 

"Cease this trifling, " said the other, evidently ill at ease. 

"Open the door, Julio, or I will complain of you to our master. "

"What do I care for our master?" said the man, laughing. 

"You say, Bernardo, that I shall end my days on the gallows. No, no; theproverb says, that he who draws the sword shall perish by the sword. Ihave pierced so many with my dagger, that my turn must come to fall by thedagger. Last night, Bernardo, I had rare sport. I knocked down eight, wounded one in the arm, and as to three or four others whom I leftextended on the ground, my dagger knows better than I what mischief wasdone them. Come in with me, and I will tell you all about it. "

"No, I have not time. "

"You must take the time. You shall not leave here until you have heard myadventures of last night. "

"It is always the same story over again. If I believed you, I wouldsuppose that the cemeteries were too small to contain the bodies of allwhom you have slain. Open the door, Julio, and let me go, I beg you. "

The other took his hand, and dragging him by force into the house, said:"I am here alone all day, with no one to whom I can speak one word; it isenough to paralyze my tongue. You shall listen to my adventures whetheryou wish it or not. Judge, Bernardo, by the recital of my great deeds whatan honor it is to you to be the comrade of so intrepid a man. Be notill-humored; you know it is useless to resist me. Don't laugh; were I totry it, I could toss you about like a ball; but you are my friend, andbesides, you are too weak to contend with me. Therefore, fear nothing. "

They reached the house and entered a kind of parlor, where Julio threwupon the table the spring he held in his hand, and seating himself, hesaid to his companion:

"Take a chair, Bernardo. You are about to hear some strange adventures. Doyou know the ruffian Bufferio? He is a jolly fellow, who cares as littlefor the life of a man as for that of a fly. There is not a man in theparish of Saint Andrew who does not tremble at the sight of him. In aby-street there is a tavern in a large cellar, where one can hear therattling of dice all night long, and they play for piles of gold--where itcomes from, the devil only knows. Late yesterday evening I was passingthrough this street, when the noise of the dice fell upon my ear. You mustknow, Bernardo, that this sound is as enchanting music attracting me; itoverpowers my will. I descended into the tavern and called for a glass ofbeer. I seated myself among the players, and challenged any of them toplay against me. I won and lost; but at last good luck was on my side, andmy pockets were so full that they could hardly bear the weight of theflorins. To console the losers, I ordered the hostess to bring a pint ofwine to each of them; but in spite of my generosity the villains looked atme angrily, and seemed to excite each other to take revenge upon me. Theystrove to pick a quarrel. They were like a band of thieves and assassins;but the rascals saw with whom they had to deal. My defiant look, my boldwords, my intrepid countenance, kept them at a respectful distance fromme. Suddenly the dreaded Bufferio entered the cellar. He had no soonerlearned from his comrades how fortune had favored me than he challenged meto play with him. It was just what I wanted. I don't know how it happened, but I lost every game. Each time we doubled the stakes; a cold sweatbathed my brow as I saw florin after florin quietly put in the pocket ofmy adversary, until I had only one farthing left. This time fortunefavored me; but Bufferio insisted that the dice had not been fairlythrown, and he swept the table of all the money staked. I sprang to myfeet and called him a cheat. He instantly dealt me a heavy blow. Furiousand thirsting for vengeance, I drew my dagger. Immediately twenty daggersglittered above my head. Perhaps, Bernardo, you think that I trembled? Youdo not know me; when I am thus in the midst of danger, an entire armycould not terrify me; for in whatever other qualities I may be deficient, I do not lack courage and intrepidity. When I saw the villains about torush upon me, I darted forward like a lion, and I cut about on every sideso furiously with my dagger, that all, even to the gigantic Bufferio, fledfrom the cellar. I pursued them into the street; there the combatrecommenced; but my adversaries fared badly. In a few moments Bufferio laydead upon the ground between two of his comrades; the others, being badlywounded, had taken flight. I stood alone upon the field of battle, atriumphant conqueror! I remained in the same spot for a quarter of anhour, to see if any other enemies would present themselves, but thewretches had had enough for one night. "

Bernardo listened to this recital with an incredulous smile. When it wasconcluded, he silently shook his head. 

"Well! what have you to say of this adventure?" asked Julio. "Might it notbe narrated in the chronicles as an heroic adventure?"

"Certainly; in your place many others would have died of fright. But thismorning I saw this Bufferio, whom you declare to be dead, walking alive inthe public square. "

"Impossible; you are mistaken. "

"Perhaps so; but I know the ruffian well, for I have twice seen him in thepillory. "

"If he is not dead, he will certainly not be able to make his appearancein the streets for six months to come. "

"Of course, you took your money from Bufferio?"

"How could I?"

"Since he lay lifeless at your feet, why did you not recover the money hehad stolen from you?"

The red-haired man was at a loss for an answer; but after awhile hestammered out: "You are right. In the hurry of the struggle I did notthink of it, and then I had not the time: the watchmen ran on hearing thenoise of the affray, and you may imagine that I did not care to fall intothe hands of the bailiff. "

"I do not understand you; it seems to me you mentioned having remained aquarter of an hour upon the spot, " said Bernardo, with a slight smile. "Isuppose, Julio, there was much blood shed. "

"It flowed in torrents. "

Bernardo eyed his companion from head to foot in great surprise. 

"I would like to ask you something, but you might not understand the joke, and you would be angry with me, " he said. 

"Say candidly what you think, " replied his companion. 

"I am extremely surprised, Julio, that there is not the smallest drop ofblood, not the least spot, upon your clothes. With your permission, I willsay you dreamed all that?"

Julio sprang from his seat, gnashed his teeth, and looked at hiscompanion as if ready to devour him. 

"What! you dare to laugh at me? Are you then tired of life? Fool! were Ionly to lay my hand upon you, you would be crushed to atoms. "

Bernardo arose also, and said, in a tone half ironical and halfsupplicating: "Pardon me, Julio; I believe all you told me, and I neverdoubted your marvellous courage. If sometimes I laugh at serious things, do not be offended; this kind of joking is usual with men. "

"If you were not so feeble and powerless a being, I would have alreadylaid you at my feet, " said Julio; "as it is, I long to plunge my dagger inyour breast. "

"Leave it in its scabbard, Julio, and I will go to buy you a _stoop_[14]of Hamburg beer. "

"Ah, hypocrite!" exclaimed Julio, "then you have money. I will renew myfriendship for you, if you will do me a favor. I am in absolute want ofmoney; lend me a few shillings, and the first one who insults you, Ipromise you, shall be a dead man. "

"But, Julio, were I to give them to you, you would gamble with them atonce. "

"No, you are wrong this time; I would pay for some things our masterordered me to buy yesterday. "

Bernardo drew a small purse from his doublet, and handed to his companionits scanty contents. 

"Here is all I possess, " he said. "I fear they will go like the others. "

Julio thrust the shillings into his pocket, and muttered:

"I do not deny that I may go this evening to the parish of Saint Andrew, to see if any one would dare play against me. "

"Julio, Julio, I pity you!" said Bernardo, sadly. "I do not wish tolecture you; but you have an unfortunate and aged mother who requires youraid. You are always talking of sending her assistance, and for six monthspast every farthing has been lost at play. Perhaps in the meantime yourmother has suffered for want of food. "

This reproach seemed to affect Julio deeply. He looked down abashed, andthen said, dejectedly: "Bernardo, never speak to me again of my mother. You touch the only sensitive spot in my heart. And yet you are right; I ama monster! Oh! this miserable play! I will do better in future. Go awaynow, and let me continue my work. "

"What are you making?" asked Bernardo. "This is the third spring you haveordered, and each time from a different locksmith. "

"It is a secret known only to my master and myself. "

"A secret?" said Bernardo. "Springs, a secret! What can it mean?"

"Come with me, and I will show you. The signor may be angry if he chooses, I don't care. But, Bernardo, you must be as silent as one deaf and dumb. "

He conducted his companion to a room, and throwing open the door showedhim a large arm-chair, which in form was like the other chairs around, excepting that from each arm extended two bent springs. 

"This is what I have worked at, without stopping, for four days. I wishthe bewitched chair to the devil! I have already exhausted myself; but thenew spring is good, and in a few minutes I will have finished. "

Bernardo examined attentively the unfinished chair, and looked frightened. 

"Heavens!" he exclaimed, "a chair for a trap! Do you entrap men here?"

Julio nodded his head affirmatively. 

Pale from anxiety, Bernardo muttered: "May God preserve me! What crime isin contemplation? Does our master know anything of this terrible piece offurniture?"

"Was it not from him that you received the order to bring me the springs?"

The humpbacked man made the sign of the cross, and muttered a fewindistinct words. 

Suddenly Julio laughed immoderately, and slapping him on the shoulderexclaimed: "Foolish boy! he already sees a victim in this chair, and theblood flowing as freely as in some old woman's story. Be at ease, Bernardo; this is done only to satisfy a caprice of our master. He intendsto clean the garden and repair the fountain. He will place this arm-chairin an arbor near the fountain; the guest who seats himself in it will becaught, and the salamanders may throw the water upon him as long as theyplease. It is a mania of our master. "

"What a coward I am!" said Bernardo, laughing at his own fears. "Open thedoor now, Julio; I should have been at the factory long ago. "

They both left the house talking together, and they turned their stepstowards the exterior door. 

The red-haired man soon returned alone. He removed the spring from theparlor-table, and took it with him to the room where he had terrified hiscompanion by the revelation of his master's secret. He seated himself onthe ground near the chair, and taking some tools he began to arrange thespring, and to try if it would produce the effect intended. Whilst thusoccupied he laughed aloud, and said:

"The stupid humpback! One could make him believe that cats laid eggs! Hebelieved all I told him of Bufferio and his comrades as though they weregospel truths. The coward! To empty his pocket of its last farthing, it isonly necessary to frighten him! I have two shillings. Night is coming on, and it is growing dark. Presently I will go to the tavern of the 'SilverDice. ' I will play at first with a few farthings, then for white pieces, at last for florins and even crowns! This time I will stop playing as soonas my pocket is full of money. Then at least I will send something to mypoor mother. In what condition is she now? Perhaps she no longer lives onearth; that would be better for her. Poor and blind, and her onlydependence a son who must conceal his true name in order to escape thegallows; a gambler, drunkard--in a word, a real jail-bird! Yes, if fortunefavors me, I will send her something. The signor promised me to have itconveyed to Lucca. Ah! the spring is fixed. Let me see if the machine doesits duty. "

He rose, placed his hand on the arm of the chair as if about to take hisseat in it; suddenly he sprang aside, exclaiming: "Fool that you are, youwere about to do a fine thing! I would have been caught by my own trap;and if the signor had forgotten to come this evening, I would haveremained clasped in that traitorous chair. But don't I hear some onecoming? A key grating in the lock of the garden gate? Yes, it is theSignor Turchi. "

Seating himself on the ground before the arm-chair, with his back turnedto the door, Julio began to work with apparent eagerness; and in order toassume a greater air of indifference, he sang snatches of a well-knownsong. 

The door opened, and Signor Turchi stood upon the threshold. He remainedfor an instant motionless, contemplating in silence his servant, whocontinued his song as though unconscious of the presence of his master. 

Simon slowly approached him and laid his hand upon his shoulder; butbefore he could say a word, Julio drew his dagger from its scabbard, andspringing to his feet, made a motion as if to stab his master. 

"_O cielo, è voi signor?_ Is it you, signor?" cried Julio. "You slipthrough the garden like a thief. It is almost dark; an accident might havehappened. "

"Stop your foolish jesting, Julio. A man does not kill another withoutfinding out with whom he is dealing. "

"Do you think so, signor? Why, if five or six men were to take me bysurprise, not one would be left alive. "

"You speak as if the life of a man were of no more value than that of abird. "

"Less, signor; it is not worth a farthing. "

"We will have proof of this, " said Simon, in a peculiar tone, as he turnedtowards the door. "For years I have heard you boasting; this evening Iwill discover what you are--a brave man or a coward. "

Julio drew himself to his full height, put his arms akimbo, and was aboutto speak, but his master prevented him. 

"No useless words!" said Simon, imperiously, "Light the lamp, and come tomy bed-room. "

He left the room without making any inquiry in regard to the chair, andascended a winding staircase. Opening the door of a large room, he threwhimself upon a chair, and rubbed his brow with his hands like a mantormented by painful thoughts. 

After awhile his hands fell upon his knees, and his eyes wandering infeverish agitation through the dim twilight, he muttered:

"At last it is decided! the murder of a friend! He my friend? He is mymortal enemy! Has he not deprived me of Mary's love? Has he not destroyedall my hopes? Has he not devoted me to eternal infamy? His uncle hasconsented; he will become his partner, the proprietor of an immensefortune, the husband of Mary--of Mary, who was destined by her father tobe my wife! He will be powerful, rich, and happy; he will be surrounded byevery luxury; he will astonish the world by the magnificence of his styleof living, and from the pinnacle of his grandeur he will cast an eye oflawful pride upon Turchi dishonored and ruined! Miserable dog that I am!Deodati will discover that I owe him ten thousand crowns. He will appealto the courts of justice, and I will be condemned as a rogue; they willdiscover that I have spent more than I possessed. Outraged, despised, mocked, shall I fall forever into the abyss of misery and infamy? No, no;let him die! His death alone can save me. If he perishes as I haveplanned, I no longer owe him the ten thousand crowns; Mary becomes mywife, and I am master of her dowry. In that case I am still the powerful, honored chief of the house of Buonvisi! But time presses; to-morrow it maybe too late! I hear Julio coming. Upon him rests all my hope. "

The servant entered and placed a lighted candle upon the table. 

"Now, signor, " he said, "to what trial do you wish to subject my courage?However difficult it may be, it will not be beyond my strength. "

"Close the blinds; lower the windows, " said Turchi; "sit down and listenattentively to my words. I am about to talk to you of an importantaffair. "

The red-haired man regarded his master with a malicious and increduloussmile, but he took the seat indicated to him without a word of comment. 

"Julio, " said Simon, "I am dejected and undecided. There is a man whopretends to be my friend, but who has secretly been my bitter enemy. Hehas always artfully calumniated and deceived me, and injured me in myfortune and honor; he has pushed his machinations to such a degree that Iwill soon be condemned to eternal infamy and misery, unless, by a boldstroke of vengeance, I break through the snares he has laid for mydestruction. Be calm, Julio; it does you honor to be inflamed with angeragainst the enemies of your master; but listen. I discovered, three daysago, that it was this treacherous friend who paid the assassins to inflictthe wound of which I still bear the scar on my face. Thus, he first shedmy blood and attempted my life; now he plans my ruin and dishonor. Julio, what would you do in my place?"

"What would I do? Ask my dagger, signor; if it could speak, it would tellyou of wonderful exploits. "

"Then you would not hesitate to undertake a difficult task?"

"Hesitate! you insult me, signor. I would not hesitate were twenty swordsbrandished over my head. "

"Understand, Julio, that had I doubted your intrepidity, I would not havespoken to you of such grave affairs. I give you the highest proof ofconfidence by intrusting my vengeance to your hands. I will tell you whois my enemy, and where you can strike him secretly. Kill him, and youshall be liberally recompensed. "

This mission appeared unpalatable to Julio. 

"Yes, " he stammered; "but that is not my way of acting. I will pick aquarrel with your enemy, and if he dares to raise a finger against me, heis a dead man. "

"Impossible; he is of noble birth. "

"And if I insulted him, his valets would fall upon me and beat me. "

"That is true. There is but one way, Julio; I will tell you where you canstab him at night without the least danger. "

"I? shall I treacherously kill your enemy? This gentleman has neverinjured me. Since how long has it been the custom for valets to avenge thegrievances of their masters? It is your own affair, signor. "

"You value the life of a man as little as a farthing, you said, " repliedSimon Turchi, with bitter irony; "and now you allege the most puerilereasons as excuses. You are a coward, Julio. "

"I am not; but I do not choose to lie in wait and stab a man in the dark. "

"That is a feint, a subterfuge, to conceal your cowardice. "

"Since it is so simple and easy, why do you not deal the blow yourself, signor?"

The scar on Simon Turchi's face became of a livid white; his whole frametrembled with rage; but by a strong effort he controlled his emotion, andafter a few moments he said, with a contemptuous smile upon his lips:

"Four years ago I took you into my service through pity; I have paid youwell, excused all your faults, your intoxication, your passion forgambling; I have not dismissed you, although you have deserved it ahundred times; and now, when for the first time you can be useful to me, you have not the courage. I wished to try you. What I said was only ajest. To-morrow, Julio, you will leave my service. You are a liar and acoward. "

"Do not condemn me so severely, signor, " said the servant, in asupplicating tone of voice. "I am willing to risk my life a thousand timesfor you; but to lie in wait for an unknown man and kill himdeliberately--this is an infamous crime of which I am not capable. "

"Hypocrite!" exclaimed Simon Turchi; "you speak as though I were ignorantof your past history. If a price is set upon your head in the city ofLucca, if at this moment you are under sentence of death, is it notbecause you assassinated or helped to assassinate the Judge Voltaï?"

These words struck Julio with terror. He replied, humbly:

"Signor, I have already told you that in this affair I was moreunfortunate than guilty. I was upon the spot where the murder wascommitted, and I was arrested with those who gave the fatal blow. Believeme, I knew nothing of their designs. I do not deny that in a contest orquarrel I spare no one; but up to this moment my dagger has never shedblood without provocation. "

Simon fixed his eyes upon his servant, and said in a menacing tone:"Suppose, in order to avenge myself for thy base ingratitude, I shouldmake known to the superintendent of Lucca who is the man I have in myservice? Suppose I were to tell him that the real name of Julio Julii isPietro Mostajo? Who would be bound hand and foot and sent in the hold of aship of war to expiate his crimes upon a scaffold in Italy?"

Julio turned pale and trembled. He moved restlessly upon his chair, andcomplained in a low voice of the false accusations and injustice of men;but his master eyed all his movements in a scornful manner, until at lastthe servant, disconcerted, exclaimed impulsively:

"Tell me what to do; I am ready!"

"Will you accomplish my orders with unwavering will and withouthesitation?"

"I must do so, since you compel me to it! But fear nothing; my decision ismade. "

"And suppose that Geronimo Deodati were my enemy?"

"Geronimo Deodati!" exclaimed Julio, in indescribable terror. "Geronimo, your intimate friend? That noble and generous cavalier who loves you as abrother? He is as gentle as a girl!"

"He is a false friend, a traitor. "

"Geronimo gave you the wound on your face?[15] He would betray you andseek your ruin? That is false, false! It is impossible!"

"He is my mortal enemy. You shall kill him, I say!" exclaimed SimonTurchi, in a menacing voice. 

"Must I kill the Signor Geronimo? Ah! to what horrible crime would youurge me?" said Julio, in a plaintive tone. 

Simon seized his servant by the arm, shook him violently, and whisperedhoarsely in his ear: "Pietro Mostajo, remember the superintendent ofLucca!"

Julio, as if stupefied, said not a word. 

Simon arose and walked towards the door, saying: "It is well; I will goand deliver you up to justice. "

The terrified servant sprang after him, retained him, and said, supplicatingly: "I submit myself to your will, and accept the fate Icannot escape. I have never before committed a murder; you take his bloodupon yourself, do you not, signor? Tell me when I must accomplish thishorrible crime. "

"This very day, Julio. "

"To-day?--so soon?"

"To-morrow would be too late. "

"Well, command; the sooner the better. "

"To-day is the eve of May. Geronimo intends to serenade Miss Van de Werve. Only two lute-players will attend him. He invited me to accompany him. Iwill go to bed at the factory under pretence of indisposition; all theservants will know that I have not left my dwelling. Do you put on the oldSpanish cape which has been laid aside for five years; no one will thenrecognize you. You must be in Hoboken Street, near the Dominican Convent, before eleven o'clock. There is at that spot a well which Geronimo mustpass both in going and returning. Hide behind the well until Geronimoapproaches, then rush upon him and deal him a fatal blow; strike severaltimes. The lute-players are cowards, and they will run away. Take from thedead body of Geronimo a pocket-book which you will find in a pocket on theleft side of his doublet; there is in this pocket-book a writing which hetook from me by a cheat. Leave the spot after having accomplished this, and return by the darkest streets; you will not be discovered. Above all, do not forget the pocket-book. "

Julio's countenance expressed stupefaction and terror. During thedevelopment of the frightful plot he kept his eyes fixed on his master'slips, and he continued to stare at him without moving. 

"Well, " asked his master, "is not the project cunningly devised?"

"It is astonishing, astonishing!" stammered the servant, lowering hiseyes. 

"You are ready, I suppose, to strike the blow? But why do you hesitate?Are you afraid?"

"No, no; but let me reflect a moment, " said Julio. 

After a few minutes of silence, he looked at his master, and said:

"With your permission, signor, I will say that the plan, as you havearranged it, appears to me to be fraught with danger to yourself. Supposethat Geronimo should perceive me too soon and defend himself; that bychance the lute-players should be men of courage; that I should be woundedor made prisoner: any of these events might occur. I would certainly bebroken on the wheel or burned alive. That, however, would be of littleconsequence, if by my death I could be useful to you. But I am yourservant, and known as such by all your acquaintances; and as I could haveno motive of hatred or vengeance against a cavalier who has never spokenan unkind word to me, you would be at once suspected of having ordered themurder. "

"And you, I suppose, would betray me?" said Turchi, with bitter irony. 

"Betray you, signor? that would not save myself; but under torture mytongue might against my will pronounce your name. "

Simon strode up and down the room, muttering between his teeth withsuppressed rage. His servant glanced at him stealthily, with an almostimperceptible smile of joy and triumph. 

At last Simon stood still in the middle of the room; the scar on his cheekwas of a fiery red, and his eyes rolled around restlessly. 

"Shall I then be forever ruined? Nothing is left me in the world butmisery and infamy! Julio, is the arm-chair progressing?"[16]

"The arm-chair! Then the arm-chair was destined as a snare for Geronimo?"said the servant, stupefied. "What do you mean?"

"No, no, the chair would come too late!" said Simon Turchi, in an agitatedvoice. "Talk no more about it; this evening you must lie in wait forGeronimo and kill him. It is decided; it must be done!"

"I know a means to accomplish your purpose without danger either to you orme, signor, " said the servant. 

"Ah, if what you say be true! Tell me this means of safety!"

"There lives in the parish of Saint Andrew a man of giant stature andstrength; he is named Bufferio; he will do anything for money; whether itbe to beat, wound, or kill a man, it is all the same to him. He fulfilshis mission to the satisfaction of his employers, and he never betrays asecret. He has five or six intrepid companions engaged in the same tradeas himself; they may be relied upon. Give me money to pay this ruffian, and you need have no anxiety; Bufferio will think that I am acting frompersonal vengeance; besides, he does not know me. Thus neither of us willbe suspected nor accused should the affair prove unsuccessful. "

Simon seemed surprised by Julio's words, and he remained a few moments indeep thought. By degrees a smile parted his lips; it was evident that theproposed plan met his approval. He opened his purse and put four goldpieces in Julio's hand. 

"Is that sufficient?" he asked. 

"You jest, signor, " replied the servant. "Four gold pieces for the life ofa nobleman!"

Simon handed him four more. 

"Will that do?" he said. 

"It is not enough yet. "

"How much will be required?"

"I do not know. Perhaps twenty crowns. "

"Twenty? I have only fifteen about me, with some small change. "

"Give me all, signor. If I had not enough I should be obliged to returnwithout concluding the affair. "

Simon heaved a deep sigh and emptied the contents of his purse intoJulio's hand. 

"You will bring me back what is left, will you not?"

"Certainly; but I do not think much will remain. "

"Come, Julio, I am in a hurry to return to the factory. Fulfil yourmission skilfully, and I will recompense you largely. But a thoughtstrikes me. The pocket-book must not fall into the hands of Bufferio. "

"I had forgotten that, " said Julio, embarrassed. 

"Ah! I have it!" said Simon Turchi, after a moment's reflection, "A littlebefore ten o'clock you must go to the house of Geronimo and tell him I amill with fever, and that I have sent you in my place to accompany himarmed. Follow him closely, and when he falls, take the pocket-book fromhim. Tell Bufferio that it is an unimportant document. "

Julio made a movement of displeasure on receiving this new order. He hadrejoiced in the idea of not being obliged to witness this wicked attack, and now he was commanded to take part in it. For fear of being subjectedto something worse, he did not venture to make any remark. 

"Go now, " said Simon Turchi, "and get the old Spanish cape. It may serveto disguise you from Bufferio. Gird on a sword also, that Geronimo maythink you are armed for the purpose of defending him in case of attack. "

The servant took the lamp from the table and prepared to obey the order. 

"What are you doing?" said his master. "Are you going to leave me in thedark? Are you afraid to go without a light?"

"I might knock my head against the beams, for I have forgotten where thecape was put. "

"You had it in your hands only three days ago. You are afraid in the dark, Julio. Take the lamp. "

The servant soon returned. He had the Spanish cape around his shoulders. It was a wide cloak, in which the whole body might be wrapped; and whenthe hood was drawn down it entirely concealed the face. 

The master and servant descended the staircase in silence and approachedthe little garden-gate. There Julio put the lamp upon the ground andextinguished it. 

The lock grated as the key turned; the door was opened and closed, andSimon Turchi and his servant disappeared in the dark and solitary street. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION--THE ASSASSINATOR SLAIN. 

A black shadow gliding like an almost impalpable spot, might be seenmoving along the street of Saint John. 

Thick clouds covered the sky. Not a star was visible. Here and there--atthe corners of the streets and alleys--flickered a small lamp, lightedbefore an image of the Virgin; but these slight flames, far fromdiminishing the obscurity, shone in the foggy atmosphere as glowworms inthe woods, which glitter but do not give light. 

Silence reigned in the deserted streets. If the inhabitants, behind theiroaken windows, heard occasionally some sound interrupting the stillness ofthe night, it was the hurried step of some benighted artisan who made asmuch noise as possible with his feet in order to frighten away therobbers; or it was the slow tread of a highwayman, who, listeningattentively and peering through the darkness, was on the watch for hisprey; or it might be the watchmen, who cried the hour and made thepavement resound under the stroke of their halberds as if to giveevil-doers a warning of their approach. 

The shadow gliding at this moment along the street of St. John was that ofa man completely enveloped in a large cloak, his head so covered by thehood that his eyes alone were visible. As in passing before an image ofthe Virgin a feeble ray from a lamp fell upon him, one might have seen ashe hurried along that his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. 

Was this person an evil-doer, bent upon the commission of some crime, or, fearing danger, was he securing to himself the means of defence?

However that may be, he pursued his way undisturbed and reached a narrowwinding alley, from beneath the ground of which seemed to proceed theconfused noise of many voices. 

The man stopped at the entrance of a cellar, to which admission was gainedby a ladder, and listened to the joyous sounds which issued from within. 

He put his hand in his pocket and chinked some pieces of money. 

"The sign of the _Silver Dice_!" said he, sighing. "How merry they are!The dice are rolling upon the table. Shall I not risk a shilling? Onlyone?"

Yielding to the irresistible temptation, he placed his foot upon theladder; but a sudden thought seemed to arrest him. He sprang back, trembling, and hastened from the cellar. A little farther in the street hestopped and murmured in an anxious voice:

"Heavens! what was I about to do? Risk the money upon dice? I wouldcertainly have lost the whole. Pietro Mostajo, do not forget theSuperintendent of Lucca! I am saved. Infernal temptation! I was about tostake my head. But, perhaps, I would not be unlucky. I might win afortune. The temptation returns. No, no, I must go seek Bufferio, and Ihave no time to lose. He lives yonder: a low dark door beside the pump. "

As he said these last words, he proceeded down the alley, but soon stoppednear the pump, and said in an undertone:

"Bufferio lives here. How dark it is! I can hardly see the door; but I amnot mistaken. Here the terrible ruffian has his lair. Strange, how Itremble! Perhaps it is a warning of some misfortune about to happen to me!Suppose they should take my money and murder me to conceal the theft. Whatshall I do? Shall I tell my master that I could not find Bufferio? Alas!the Superintendent of Lucca!"

After a moment of anxious thought he walked towards the low door, saying, with a sigh:

"Come, come; I can do nothing else. Of two evils choose the least!"

Although his words indicated an energetic resolution, his hand trembled ashe raised the knocker of the little door and twice let it fall. 

It gave out a deep hollow sound, as though it were the door of a vault forthe dead. 

A long time passed, and no noise within gave evidence that his call washeeded. 

The visitor became still more terrified in the supposition, that no onewas in the house, and that consequently he would be obliged to return, without concluding the affair, to his master, who would not believe him. 

In the little dark door was a small opening, protected by a grating. Behind the iron bars two eyes were fixed on the person who had knocked, and if he had been left apparently unnoticed, it was probably because twoinquisitive eyes endeavored to pierce the darkness in order to recognizethe untimely visitor. 

A harsh voice at last asked from behind the grating:

"Who knocked?"

The man in the cloak started back. The unexpected question so close to hisear made him tremble violently. However, he soon controlled himself andreplied in Italian:

"Woman, I do not understand the Flemish tongue. You must know Italian, asBufferio is a Roman. Tell me if Bufferio is at home. "

"Who are you?" she replied, in Italian jargon. 

"Who am I? I come to arrange a secret affair with Bufferio, and I do notchoose to tell my name. "

"You are an agent of the bailiff, and you wish to deceive me. Go on yourway and leave me in peace. Bufferio is not at home. "

The man took some pieces of silver from his pocket and rattled themtogether. 

"You are mistaken, woman. I have need of the services of Bufferio for animportant affair. He may gain a few crowns of gold. I come with the cashin hand: you understand. "

Two bolts grated in their rusty staples, and the door opened. 

"Enter, signor, " said the woman, "and follow me. "

"I do not see you; it is as black as Erebus; where is the staircase?"cried out the other. 

"Follow me, signor. Give me your hand; I will precede you. "

She seized the hand of the visitor, and whilst guiding him to thestaircase, she said:

"Your hand trembles, signor. Are you afraid?"

"I afraid!" said the other, in a faltering voice. "Afraid of what? Thedarkness makes me totter. "

"It may be, signor; but I thought your hand was cold and trembling. Hereis the staircase; now follow me. "

The man ascended the staircase behind her, stumbling up the well-wornsteps, striking his head and elbows against invisible objects, andgrumbling and swearing as if to show that he was not agitated by fear. 

Having reached the first story, the woman opened a door and introduced hercompanion into a room lighted by the smoking flame of an iron lamp. Sheshowed him a miserable chair, and said:

"Sit down, signor, if you please, and wait a while. I will go callBufferio, he is engaged at play in the neighborhood. Should any one knockat the door during my absence, pay no attention to it; I will lock thedoor on the outside and take the key with me. "

The man looked at her surprised and troubled. Her bony limbs, the graylocks which fell upon her cheeks, her large mouth and long teeth, made herappear to his eyes a hideous being, a worthy companion for Bufferio. 

He listened to the sound of her receding steps, until he heard the keygrate in the lock of the door. 

Then he looked around him and examined with mistrust and surprise theapartment of Bufferio and the objects it contained. 

The room was neither well furnished nor clean: a table, three ricketychairs, an oaken bench, a few earthenware vessels near the fireplace, anda bed, constituted all the furniture. It was not, however, these commonobjects which fixed the gaze of the visitor. What he could not see withoutshuddering, was the number of strange arms suspended all around the wallsof the room. In the midst of rusty swords, sharp daggers and knives ofevery size and shape, he saw short clubs with iron heads, steel chainslike the bit of a horse, ropes with running knots, and various otherarticles whose use was inexplicable to him, although he was convinced thatthese singular instruments were intended for no good purpose. 

On the table, beside the lamp, was a large knife, and near it a piece oflinen and some sand for scouring, showing that the woman had been occupiedin cleaning these arms when the knock at the door interrupted her. 

All these instruments of murder filled with terror the heart of the manwho was contemplating them. He turned his eyes away from them, tremblingas he reflected upon the horror of his position. However, a few momentsonly were left him, for the door of the house soon opened and he heardsteps on the staircase. 

The woman entered and said:

"Bufferio will soon be here. When he has the dice in his hand, it isdifficult to tear him away. Nevertheless, he will come. I think, signor, that he has drank deeply. Look well to yourself, and if you value yourlife, do not irritate him, for he would make as little scruple ofmaltreating you as he would of crushing a worm. Apart from that, he is thebest man in the world. "

She seated herself at the table, took up the knife and linen, andcontinued her occupation, whilst observing the stranger with a suspiciouseye. 

He had pulled the hood of the cloak over his face and seated himself insilence, fixing his eye vaguely upon space, like a man wearied by longwaiting. He was deeply agitated, and from time to time his whole frameshook. Every time that he glanced towards the table he met the penetratinglook of the frightful Megæra, who, while continuing to clean the blade ofthe large knife, considered him from head to foot, and seemed endeavoringto discover who he was and with what intention he had come. 

At last, no longer able to resist his feeling of anxiety, he rose andsaid:

"Woman, show me the way out. I have not time to wait longer. I will returnto-morrow, during the day. "

"I hear Bufferio whistling in the street, " she replied. 

"He is even now placing the key in the door. "

The stranger, as if perfectly satisfied with this intelligence, fell backin his chair, with a suppressed sigh, and listened in an agony of fear tothe heavy footsteps on the staircase. 

Bufferio appeared at the door, and looked distrustfully at the man who hadinterrupted him at his game. 

The ruffian Bufferio was of giant build. He was obliged to stoop in orderto enter the door. His head was thrown back defiantly, and his hand restedupon the hilt of a dagger which was held by his girdle. A broad-brimmedhat shaded his face; his whole dress was of dark-brown cloth, scarcelydistinguishable in the darkness of night. Under his prominent eyebrowstwinkled very small eyes, and a cruel, withering smile played about hismouth. 

He made an imperious gesture to the woman and pointed to the door. Sheleft the room grumbling, but gave no other evidence of dissatisfaction. 

The ruffian shut the door, took a chair, and said to the stranger, in arough and coarse voice:

"_Perche me disturba?_ Why do you disturb me? Who are you?"

This question was very embarrassing to the stranger. He replied, stammering:

"Is it necessary, Signor Bufferio, that you should know my name beforedoing me a service for which I will pay you liberally?"

On hearing these words, the ruffian struck his forehead with his hand, asif he thought he recognized the voice of the visitor; but he did not stopto reflect longer. 

"Come tell me quickly what you want; they are waiting for me at the tavernof the _Silver Dice_, and I have no time to lose. "

"It is an affair of importance, Signor Bufferio. "

"Yes; my wife told me I might gain a few crowns of gold. Speak. Why do youbeat about the bush in this manner? What embarrasses you? Do you thinkyou are dealing with a dishonest man? Fear nothing. Not a hair of yourhead shall be touched in my house. "

This assurance restored the stranger's confidence, and he said, in a moresteady voice:

"Signor Bufferio, you must know that I have an enemy who insults andoutrages me, and who threatens to drive me to ruin. "

"I understand. You wish to be avenged by my instrumentality. "

"Yes, signor. How many golden crowns do you ask for such a service?"

"That depends upon the rank of the individual, and upon the kind ofservice you desire. A few blows with a stick, a scratch on the face, donot cost as much as a mortal wound. "

"The wound must be mortal, signor. "

"And who is your enemy? A nobleman or a common citizen? Rich or poor?"

"He is a nobleman, signor, and the possessor of an ample fortune. "

"A nobleman? And who are you, who make yourself responsible for payment?"

"I am a poor servant out of service. "

The ruffian smiled incredulously. 

"Ah!" said he, ironically, "a poor servant out of service! Come, throwback your hood. You have red hair; you often play at dice; your name isJulio; you live near the bridge _De la Vigne_ with the Signor SimonTurchi. Is not that true? You were trying to deceive me. "

Julio, thus unexpectedly recognized, was mute from astonishment, and, trembling from head to foot, stared at the ruffian, who did not appear inthe least displeased, but said, in an encouraging tone:

"Be calm; you need not be disturbed because I know who you are. My tradeis to keep the most important affairs secret. Fear nothing, I will notbetray you. "

It was some minutes before Julio had recovered himself sufficiently tospeak. 

"I am sorry that you know my name, " said he; "but no matter. I desire toknow, Signor Bufferio, what price you demand for ridding me forever of myenemy?"

"Your enemy?" said the ruffian, laughing. "A gentleman your enemy? You arestill endeavoring to deceive me. You mean your master's enemy?"

"No, my personal enemy, who has calumniated me to my master, and who hasstriven to have me ignominiously discharged. "

"And you offer me golden crowns? How long is it since servants becamepossessed of such treasures? You request to have a mortal wound inflictedupon a gentleman? Well, you must give me fifteen gold crowns. "

"Fifteen crowns!" exclaimed Julio, with assumed astonishment. "So large asum! I do not own that much. "

"Then pay me twelve; but it must be in advance, before I strike the blow. "

"I will pay you immediately, before leaving. "

"Give me your hand, Julio; it is a bargain. Now tell me exactly what youor your master requires of me. "

"Not my master: I alone. "

"It is all the same. What am I to do, and when is it to be done?"

"This very night, Bufferio. "

"To-night? This will oblige me to renounce my game with the Portuguesesailor; and yet I might have won some gold pieces there. "

"Listen, Signor Bufferio. To-night, at eleven o'clock, a young nobleman, accompanied by two lute-players, will come from the direction of theconvent of the Dominicans; he will turn the corner at Prince Street, andwill proceed towards the church of St. James. He will thus be obliged topass before the stone well at the head of Hoboken Street. You will concealyourself behind the well with two or three faithful companions, and as theyoung gentleman passes, you will attack and kill him. "

"The affair has been well planned, " remarked the ruffian. "I could manageit by myself; but since you desire it, I will take with me a couple of mybrave companions. How will I recognize the one I am to strike?"

"His dress is entirely brown, and his cap is ornamented with a whiteplume; in the darkness you will be able to perceive only the white plume:that will be a certain sign. "

Bufferio shook his head doubtfully. 

"Have you nothing else to observe?" he asked. 

"I will merely inform you that I will accompany the young gentleman, andwhen he falls, I will take from his person a writing, which, if it werediscovered, might involve me in great danger. You will recognize me bythis Spanish cape, and I will cry out very loud, that you and your men mayknow that I am not an enemy. "

"Now where are the gold crowns?"

"Do you accept the commission, Bufferio?"

"I will fulfil it as though I were laboring for myself. "

Julio took from his pocket some gold crowns, then continued to draw themout one by one, until he held twelve in his hand. He endeavored to concealfrom the ruffian that he possessed more than the sum agreed upon; butBufferio must have suspected his intention, for he smiled, and said in adecided manner:

"You have more gold crowns. I knew it from the first; people do notgenerally enter into such affairs with only the sum absolutely required. You need not deceive me. Give me the stipulated amount; I ask no more. "

As soon as the other had handed him the money, Bufferio approached thelamp, examined and weighed each piece of gold, and then said:

"It is good coin. Have no anxiety, Julio, I will go for my comrades. Thereis but little time left--only a good half hour. "

Julio took leave of the ruffian, and was about to quit the room, but hestopped and said: "Signor Bufferio, you will not tell your companions whorequested this service of you?"

"I tell nothing to my companions. The proverb says, If you wish to loseyour liberty, trust your secrets to others. "

"You perfectly understand what you have to do?"

"Yes, yes. At eleven o'clock, behind the well in Hoboken. Street, a younggentleman with a white plume in his hat. Be quiet, I myself will deal theblow, and I will not miss the mark. "

"Adieu, Bufferio. "

"Adieu, Julio. "

The ruffian accompanied the servant to the lower story, opened the door ofthe street, and closed it behind him. 

When Julio found himself in the open air, he walked a short distance, thenstopped, drew a long breath as if a heavy weight had fallen from hisshoulders, and said, joyously:

"Heavens! what an escape! I doubt if I am really alive. The difficultaffair is at last concluded. The signor says that I am a coward. I wouldlike to see him in that room with that infernal woman and the terribleBufferio. Now I must go to Geronimo. My greatest difficulty is yet tocome. If I get through it successfully, I may well say that I was bornunder a lucky star. But I cannot tarry, I have still a long distance towalk. "

He quickened his pace and soon reached the street on which the DominicanConvent stood; he passed the Abbey of Saint Michael and the Mint, andentered the grand square without being molested. 

On the way he kept his hand in his pocket, that he might enjoy thepleasure of passing the gold coin through his fingers. He muttered tohimself that he had gained three gold crowns which his master would neversee again, were he to live a hundred years. Once free from his presentcare and anxiety, he would take his seat at a gaming-table, where he wouldremain all day, and perhaps he could win heaps of gold. 

Absorbed in these thoughts, he reached Geronimo's residence and knocked atthe door. It was soon opened, and he was conducted into a room on theground floor, where the young gentleman, in his cap and cloak, seemed tobe waiting the arrival of friends. 

"Peace be to this house!" said Julio, bowing. "Signor, I bring you amessage which I would deliver with more pleasure were it less sad. My poormaster is ill with fever, and is unable to leave his bed. He begs you toexcuse him from accompanying you to-night to the serenade. "

Geronimo's countenance assumed an expression of deep compassion. The youngman concluded that his own happiness, his approaching marriage with MissVan de Werve, had touched the heart of his poor friend, and that hispresent state of health was the consequence of these painful emotions. 

"Did the fever attack him suddenly, Julio?" he asked. "Is he very ill?"

"No, signor. It may not have any bad consequences; but he could notventure to expose himself to the cold and damp night-air. "

Geronimo seemed in deep thought. 

"Signor, my master did not send me solely to inform you of hisindisposition; he directed me to accompany you to the serenade, and toprotect you in case of danger. He knows how courageous I am, and that werefive or six to attack you, I would not flee before them. "

"I accept your services, Julio. You always seemed to me to be a devotedservant. The lute-players have not yet arrived. Go to the kitchen and tellthe cook to give you a pint of beer. "

Julio went to the kitchen, but found the cook asleep. He awoke him, gavehim his master's order, and received the pint of beer. 

He expected, while drinking, to talk with the servant, and he hadcommenced speaking of quarrels, combats, knives, and the heroic deeds inwhich he had been the actor, but the servant had scarcely seated himselfbefore he fell again into a deep sleep. Julio emptied his glass insilence, until a knock at the door and the sound of stringed instrumentsannounced the arrival of the lute-players. 

Geronimo called him, and on entering the ante-chamber he found Geronimoready to go out with the lute-players. 

Julio was troubled on remarking that these latter were armed. If thesepeople were brave men, Bufferio and his comrades would have to deal withan equal number of adversaries. Who could foresee the termination of thestruggle? However, he felt reassured on reflecting that Geronimo and thelute-players, being attacked unexpectedly, would not have time to defendthemselves. 

They left the house together, passed the Dominican Convent, and soonreached Prince Street, at the upper end of which was the stone well behindwhich Bufferio was concealed, if he had been faithful to his promise. 

Up to that time Julio had walked in advance of the others, in order toappear bold and intrepid; he now commenced to fall back, and placedhimself in the rear. His heart failed him; for, however well the planshad been laid, the blow might miss its aim, or might not cause death. 

They were within about one hundred feet of the well. 

The young gentleman, wholly ignorant of the danger which threatened him, was thinking of his unhappy friend, Simon Turchi, overpowered by a heartsorrow, tossing on a bed of suffering, while he was on his way to serenadehis beloved Mary. He also, in his own mind, deplored the involvedcondition of Simon's business affairs, and determined to save him, even atthe cost of great personal sacrifices, as soon as his marriage wouldrender him independent. 

What would the young cavalier have thought had he known that at a fewsteps, distance from him, three assassins, hired by Simon Turchi, werelying in wait to kill him. But no, his mind was filled with compassion andaffectionate feelings for his cruel enemy. 

The little band was not far from Hoboken Street; Julio gazed fixedly intothe darkness to discover if any one was near the well. 

Suddenly he perceived a dark shadow advancing. Trembling in an agony offear, and in order to make himself known to the ruffians, Julio suddenlydrew his sword and exclaimed:

"_Al assassino! Ajusto! ajusto!_ Murder! help! help!"

But he had spoken too soon for the success of his designs; for, being putupon his guard by this exclamation, Geronimo drew his sword, and placedhis back against the wall of the house that he might not be assailed frombehind. 

The lute-players, screaming from fright, ran away, and Julio stood in themiddle of the street brandishing his sword. 

All this had passed almost instantaneously after the first alarm given byJulio. The man whom he had seen coming from the well, followed by twocompanions, rushed to the side of the street where Geronimo had made astand to defend himself. The assassin, who was in advance of the twoothers, fell upon Geronimo and gave him a sword-thrust which he supposedpierced his body; but a skilful movement parried the blow, and theaggressor himself fell with such force upon Geronimo's sword that theblade passed through his body. 

The assassin fell heavily, and in a plaintive voice, as though biddingadieu to life, exclaimed:

"_O mojo!_ I die! Bufferio is dead!"

Disregarding the villain who had fallen, the gentleman rushed upon theother two and wounded one in the shoulder. Convinced that they had to dealwith a powerful and skilful adversary, they turned and fled, Geronimopursuing them far beyond the well. 

Julio followed him, crying, vociferating, and striking with his sword inthe dark, as though he were contending with numerous enemies. WhenGeronimo returned with the servant to the spot where he had left the deadbody of the ruffian, he found three or four watchmen calling for help. Many heads were thrust from the windows, and one citizen even ventured outof his house with a lamp in his hand. 

The watchmen, having inquired as to what had taken place, examined thebody to see if there were any signs of life. 

"Leave him!" said one; "it is Bufferio. God be praised! the man has atlast met the fate which he deserved. "

In the meantime, Julio had commenced to boast. He related that he had todeal with two assassins at once, that he had wounded one in the face, andpierced the other with his sword. How the latter had been able to runaway, was unaccountable; no doubt he would be found near at hand, dead ordying. 

The young gentleman, who really believed the story of Turchi's servant, thanked him for his assistance, and acknowledged that he owed his life tohim, as he had given the warning of the approach of the assassins. 

The dead body was removed behind the well until the city authoritiesshould order its burial. 

The head watchman approached Geronimo, and said to him:

"Where do you live, signor? Two of my men will accompany you, lest someother accident might befall you. Do not refuse the offer. The villains whoescaped might be on the watch for you, in order to avenge the death oftheir companions. "

"What shall I do?" said the gentleman to Julio. "I cannot give theserenade without the lute-players, and, besides, I could not sing aftersuch emotion. But Miss Van de Werve is expecting it, and if I do not go, she will imagine that some accident has happened to me. It would be betterfor me to see Mr. Van de Werve, so as to remove any cause of anxiety. Iaccept your offer, watchmen, and I will liberally recompense the servicesyou render me. I must return to Kipdorp, and you will do me the favor towait a few minutes, in order to accompany me to my dwelling. Follow me. "

Geronimo, the watchmen, and Julio soon reached the residence of Mr. Van deWerve. He knocked, and was immediately admitted. 

The young gentleman again thanked Julio with the liveliest gratitude forhis assistance, and promised to tell his master how courageously he hadacted, and the eminent services he had rendered him. 

Julio bade adieu, and hastened to his master's dwelling. He was about toknock, but, to his great terror, the door was opened at once, as thoughsome one were waiting for him. 

"Is it you, Julio?" asked a man, in the darkness. 

The servant recognized his master's voice, and entered the door. 

"Well, " said he, in a stifled tone, "is he dead?"

"Who?"

"Who! Geronimo?"

"On the contrary, Bufferio is dead. Geronimo ran him through the body. "

"Then you have not the pocket-book?"

"Certainly not. "

"And the gold crowns?"

"I gave them to Bufferio. "

"Pietro Mostajo, you have betrayed me!" hissed the infuriated signor inthe ear of his servant, shaking him convulsively by the arm. "Tell mequickly what has happened! Tremble, stupid coward! the Superintendent ofLucca shall know who you are!"

"_Ebbene che sia!_" answered Julio. "Then the Signor Geronimo shall alsoknow who hired Bufferio to assassinate him. "

A hoarse cry like a stifled groan resounded through the vestibule. Thedoor was closed. 

CHAPTER V. 

VAN DE WERVE'S RECEPTION--SIMON TURCHI'S JEALOUSY AND HATRED. 

Mr. Van de Werve, whose large fortune justified a lavish expenditure, wasaccustomed to receive at his residence every month the principal gentlemenof Antwerp, strangers as well as citizens. His love for art and scienceinduced him to bring together the best artists and the most noted literarymen of the day with the high-born, wealthy, and influential members ofsociety at Antwerp; and his house had become the rendezvous of all thatwas excellent and celebrated in the city. 

Nearly the whole of the anterior part of the house was occupied by a vasthall, called the _Ancestral Hall_, because it was decorated by numberlesssouvenirs of his illustrious family. The walls, for a certain distancewere sculptured in oak wood, so artistically designed, and so delicatelywrought, that at the first glance it looked like embroidery in variouscolors. To produce this effect, the natural brown of the oak had been leftin some places. All the rest shone with gold and silver, which wasrelieved by a beautiful scarlet, brilliant yellow, and the softestsky-blue. The many small figures scattered over the ornaments were highlygilded. From the wooden wainscot arose slight pillars, which, uniting inthe Gothic style, supported the heavy beams of the ceiling. Six of thesebeams were visible: all were covered with highly colored sculptures. Theirdecorations harmonized with, those of the wainscot, and seemed anexpansion of it, as though the architect wished the exquisite ornaments ofthe beams of the ceiling to be considered a luxuriant verdure, springingfrom trunks rooted in the oaken wainscot. 

The escutcheon of the Van de Werve family, together with the familiesallied to them, was artistically sculptured in the wood. The emblems anddevices were in profusion: lions, wild boars, eagles, ermines, bands andcrosses of gold, silver, green, and blue quartz, so numerous andsparkling, that when the noonday sun penetrated into the hall, the eyecould with difficulty bear the dazzling magnificence. 

The armorial bearings of the Van de Werves, Lords of Schilde, painted inlarger proportions than the others, were at the extremity of the hall. They consisted of a black boar on a field of gold, quartered by threechevrons of silver on black, surmounted by a helmet ornamented bymantlings of black and gold, and above this was a boar's head. 

Around these family arms shone a large number of escutcheons of smallersize; among others, the coat of arms of the Wyneghem, the Van Immerseel, the Van Wilre, the Van Mildert, the Van Coolput, the Van Bruloch, and theVan Zymaer, families the most nearly related to that of Van de Werve. 

Above the wainscot, within the niches formed by the pillars, hung theportraits of some of the most illustrious ancestors of William Van deWerve, as well as his own, in which he was represented as captain of aGerman company in the service of Charles V. 

The portraits did not occupy all the panels formed in the richly carvedoak. In a large number appeared valuable paintings from the pencil of themost celebrated masters of Netherlands. The eye rested on the creations ofthe immortal brothers Van Eyck, the touching Quintin Massys, theintellectual Roger Van der Weydens, the spiritual Jerome Bosch, thelaborious Lucas de Leyde, and others whose names were favorably mentionedin the world of art. 

In a corner of the room, beside the fireplace, stood a piano richlyenamelled in woods of different colors, and upon it lay two lutes and aviolin--a proof that the charming art of music was cultivated by thefamily of Mr. Van de Werve. 

From the ceiling were suspended six gilded chandeliers; on the mantelpiecewere two candelabras; along the walls, where the pillars formedprojections, numerous sconces were fastened; and when Mr. Van de Wervereceived his friends in the evening, the reflection of the numberless waxcandles from the many gold and silver ornaments gave a princely air to thehall. 

Three days after the attempted assassination of Geronimo by the ruffianBufferio, Mr. Van de Werve was to entertain his friends in the evening, itbeing the time appointed for their reunion. Although he had been deeplymoved by the murderous assault, and his daughter Mary had scarcelyrecovered from the shock, he had not withdrawn the invitations, hopingthat the social gathering might help to dissipate painful thoughts. 

At the appointed hour the dwelling of Mr. Van de Werve was in a blaze oflight. The large double door was thrown open, and in the vast hall werecrowds of domestics, the attendants of the guests who had already arrived. 

The large parlor was filled with persons of different conditions and ages. There were, however, only men present, for this evening was by a previousarrangement to be devoted to artists, men of letters, and notable men ofcommerce. 

The first salutations had been exchanged among the guests of Mr. Van deWerve; they had separated according to their pleasure in different groups, and were engaged in cordial and familiar conversation. 

Five or six of the more aged were seated near a table examining some newworks which excited their admiration; others, whose more simple attireproclaimed them to be artists, were showing each other their designs;another party, evidently formed of young noblemen, surrounded Geronimo, and were asking particulars of the recent attempt upon his life. 

At the end of the room, not far from the fireplace, were collected theforeigners who were engaged in commerce at Antwerp. Although they hadassembled for amusement, they were conversing, through habit, upon theexpected arrival of vessels, and the price of gold and different kinds ofmerchandise. Among these foreigners was to be seen every description ofcostume, and every variety of tongue could be heard. The Spaniard foundhimself beside a native of Lucca, the Portuguese near the Florentine, theEnglish with the Genoese, the German next to the Venetian; and, as onChange at Antwerp, they found means to understand each other. 

Mr. Van de Werve had at first remained near the door in order to welcomehis guests as they entered; but supposing that the greater part of thoseinvited had arrived, he left this place and was walking from group togroup, joining in conversation for a few moments, and saying some pleasantwords to each. 

The old Deodati had seated himself in an arm-chair apart. So many hadwelcomed him on his arrival at Antwerp, and he had been the object of somuch polite attention, that, being fatigued from standing and talking, hewas now seeking some repose. 

By his side was Simon Turchi, conversing familiarly and in a low tone withthe old man. The hypocrite feigned an extraordinary affection for thevenerable nobleman, and flattered him by every expression of respect andesteem. They had already spoken of the attempted assassination, and SimonTurchi had expressed his astonishment, for he did not believe thatGeronimo had an enemy in the world. It was quite likely that Bufferio hadmade a mistake as to the individual, a thing which might easily havehappened in so dark a night. 

While Simon Turchi, with apparent calmness, thus conversed with the oldgentleman, he was evidently meditating some wicked design; for whiletalking, his eyes incessantly wandered to Geronimo, and he endeavored todivine from his countenance the subject of his conversation. He did notfor one instant lose sight of Mary's betrothed. 

After speaking of the assassination, the old Deodati glanced around theroom upon the different groups of guests, and he asked Turchi:

"Who is the gentleman in purple velvet, who is the object of such markedrespect from the merchants around him? I do not mean the tall old man, Iam acquainted with him, he is the rich Fugger of Augsburg; I am speakingof the one who stands beside him. "

"He is a banker, signor, " replied Simon Turchi. "He is very rich, and hisname is Lazarus Tucher. The gentleman before him is the head of the houseof the Hochstetter. The gentlemen conversing with him belong to thedistinguished commercial houses of the Gigli, the Spignoli, and theGualterotti. A little apart, and behind them, is Don Pezoa, thesuperintendent of the king of Portugal; he is speaking with Diégo d'Aro, and Antonio de Vaglio, superintendents from Spain. The gentlemen near themare Italian and Portuguese merchants, whose names I could tell you, for Iknow them all, but such details would not interest you. "

"I am indebted to you for your kindness, Signor Turchi, " replied Deodati. "My nephew, Geronimo, would give me all this information, but he issurrounded by his young friends, and as he sees me with you, he isundoubtedly convinced that I could not be in better or more agreeablecompany. Have the kindness to tell me the name of the fine-looking old manseated near the table, and to give me some information regarding those whoare listening to him with so much attention. "

"Around the table, signor, are the most learned men of Netherlands. Thatgray-headed orator is the old Graphæus, secretary of the city of Antwerp, and the author of several well written Latin works. The young man, onwhose shoulder he leans, is his son, Alexander, who is also very learned. Before him is seated Abraham Ortelius, the great geographer, who isregarded as the Ptolemy of his age. Beside Ortelius is his friend andfellow-laborer Gerard, also a learned geographer, and one of theluminaries of the day. The only one whose dress indicates his Italianbirth is Louis Guicciardini, a Florentine gentleman, who is here for thepurpose of collecting materials for an extensive work on the LowCountries, and particularly on the powerful commercial city of Antwerp. The gentleman plainly dressed, with a black beard, holding a book in hishand, is Christopher Plantin; he is engaged in establishing at Antwerp aprinting-press of great importance. Its dimensions are so large that itwill occupy the ground on which several spacious houses now stand;hundreds of workmen will be employed all day in composing, correcting, andprinting books in every civilized tongue. You must not fail, signor, tovisit the building; even in its unfinished state it will cause youastonishment. "

"The Netherlands is a favored country, " said the old Deodati. "If theclimate is not as mild as in our own beautiful Italy, the men are bold, active, intelligent, industrious, and learned, and they possess all thequalifications requisite for the material prosperity and moral progress ofa nation. I am surprised to see you, who are a foreigner, as wellacquainted with the inhabitants as a native. "

"I have lived here many years, " replied Turchi. "These gentlemen arefrequent visitors at the house of Mr. Van de Werve, and I have seen themso often, that I know them as old friends. Look at the corner near thepiano, where those collected together laugh merrily, jest, and chatsocially. You may easily recognize them by their light playful manners asartists. "

"Yes. Is not that handsome man with noble features Frans Floris, theFlemish Raphael?"

"Yes; he was presented to you yesterday by Mr. Van de Werve, and you mayremember how enthusiastically he eulogized Italian art. "

"Near him is a singular-looking person; his very attitude is amusing, andhis gestures force one to laugh. "

"He is Peter Breughel, a humorist, who so designs his pictures that theyseem painted only by way of jest. He is, however, in good repute as anartist. I saw recently one of his pictures in which he represents theSaviour carrying his cross to Calvary. In this he represents pilgrims withtheir staves, Spanish soldiers in doublets, monks and nuns; there is evena statue of the Blessed Virgin suspended on a tree, and that at a timewhen there was no Christianity, no Saint James of Compostella, neitherconvents nor Spaniards. "

"That is indeed singular, " said Deodati, smiling. "It seems to me thatsuch conceits do but very little honor to the artist. Is it a custom amongother artists in the Netherlands to sport thus with holy things?"

"No; Signor Breughel is an exception. The other gentlemen in company withthe Flemish Raphael are more serious men. Michael Coxie, whom you maydistinguish by the gray doublet, excels in his portraits of women. Thehandsome young man standing behind him is Martin de Vos, a pupil ofFloris; he evinces a high order of talent and gives promise of greatperfection in his art. The others, as well as I can recognize them at thisdistance, are Lambert Van Noord, Egide Mostaert, William Key, Bernard deRycke, and the two brothers Henry and Martin Van Cleef, all celebratedhistorical, fancy, or portrait painters. Near them is Master Grimmer, afamous landscape-painter; and the gentleman now speaking is a certain Ackof Antwerp, who has painted the large glass windows of the church of SaintGudula at Brussels. The old man sitting apart near the piano is Christian;he has marvellous skill in playing on many instruments, but he excels moston the violin. You will probably hear him this evening. "

Simon Turchi continued to converse familiarly with the Signor Deodati, whowas charmed with his intelligence, but still more with the kindconsideration which made him refrain from joining in the generalconversation in order to entertain an old man. 

Geronimo had several times approached his uncle, but each time the latterhad playfully sent him away, telling him that the agreeable company of theSignor Turchi sufficed for him, and that he preferred a quietconversation. 

In the meantime the conversation among the guests had become more general. Noblemen and bankers, merchants and literary men, manufacturers andartists, were mingling with each other; rank and condition weredisregarded, and the animated conversation of the company resoundedthrough the hall like the humming of a swarm of bees. 

At this moment the servants entered, bringing silver waiters on which werewines of every description, pastry, cakes, rare fruits, and otherrefreshments. 

They passed through the room offering the wines to the guests. 

"Gentlemen, a glass of Malmsey, Rhenish wine, claret, sherry, Muscatel?"

Whilst these delicious drinks and delicacies were thus distributed, Geronimo never lost sight of Mr. Van de Werve, but observed him with aneye full of hope and expectation. 

When at last he saw Mr. Van de Werve leave the room, a bright smileillumined his face. Geronimo knew that Mr. Van de Werve sometimesgratified his friends and acquaintances by allowing his beautiful daughterto be present at their evening reunion for about an hour, and he had beenimpatiently awaiting the moment when the young girl would appear. 

Simon Turchi, although apparently so unmoved, had constantly watchedMary's betrothed, noticed the radiant expression of his countenance, andunderstood the cause. 

Mary was coming! Perhaps the whole company would know that his suit hadbeen rejected, and that Geronimo had succeeded where the powerfuladministrator of the house of Buonvisi had failed!

This thought deeply wounded his pride. He scowled at Geronimo, who waslooking in another direction. Rage and jealousy goaded him almost tomadness; he felt that the scar on his face, by its deepening hue, wouldbetray his emotion, and to conceal it he covered his eyes with his hand. 

Deodati asked him with interest:

"What is the matter, Signor Turchi? Are you ill?"

"The heat is intolerable, " said Simon, endeavoring to master his feelings. 

"Heat?" murmured Deodati; "it does not seem to me very warm. Shall Iaccompany you for a few moments to the garden, signor?"

But Turchi raised his head, and smiling in an unconcerned manner, said:

"Many thanks, signor, for your kindness. I feel much better. I had beenlooking too long at the large lustre, and its brilliant light made medizzy. But let us rise, signor, there is the beautiful Mary, _la biondamaraviglia_!"

Mr. Van de Werve appeared at this moment at the door, and introduced hisbeloved child. A murmur of admiration ran through the assembly, and roomwas made for the father and daughter. 

The beauty of Mary surpassed all expectation. Her dress consisted of aflowing robe of silver-colored satin, with no other ornament than a girdleof gold thread. Her own blonde hair was arranged around her head in theform of a crown, in the centre of which were placed some white flowersfastened by choice pearls. But the admiration of the spectators wasexcited by her large blue eyes, her brilliant complexion, the dignifiedsweetness of her expression, the gentle, innocent, modest smile whichmirrored on her face the peace and joy of her soul. 

Geronimo had never before seen Mary dressed in this style. On thecontrary, she generally wore dark or unobtrusive colors. Decked as she nowwas in pure white, she had the appearance of a bride. It was, of course, by her father's request; but what did it mean? Did he intend by this tomake it known that Mary was betrothed, and would soon be wedded? Suchthoughts as these agitated Geronimo as the young girl accompanied herfather into the room. 

The old Deodati rose and advanced to meet her. Simon Turchi took advantageof this movement to retire a short distance; for, as his eye fell on thebeautiful girl, rage filled his heart as he reflected that this noble andpure woman would have been his wife had not Geronimo blasted the happinessof his life. 

The lightning-like glance of hate and envy which he cast upon Geronimo wasa sinister menace of death. Happily for him, all eyes were turned towardsthe young girl, otherwise many a one might have read the dark soul ofSimon Turchi and discovered the horrible design he had conceived. 

Mr. Van de Werve introduced his daughter to his guests. All expressed incourteous terms their admiration and their pleasure in her society. 

The noble young girl received the felicitations and compliments addressedto her with a gentle and dignified self-possession. There were in hermanner and tone of voice a rare modesty and reserve, and at the same timean exquisite politeness. Still more astonishing was her rich and variedknowledge. Whether conversing with a Spaniard, Frenchman, Italian, orGerman, she spoke to each in his own tongue; but the beautiful Italianlanguage assumed additional sweetness on her lips. 

When presented to the old Deodati, she took both his hands and spoke tohim so tenderly and affectionately that, overcome by emotion, he couldonly say a few grateful words in acknowledgment. 

Passing by Simon Turchi, she said cheerfully:

"God be praised, Signor Turchi, that your health is so soon restored! I amhappy to see you here this evening. I am sincerely grateful to you, signor, for the friendship you manifest to the nephew of Signor Deodati. You have a good and generous heart, and I thank God for having given sodevoted a friend to Geronimo and his uncle!"

The gentle words of the young girl were intolerable torture to Turchi; thewound on his face, betraying his emotion, became of a deep-red color. Andyet it was absolutely necessary for him to appear calm, and to replycordially to the kind salutation of the young girl; for there were atleast twenty persons near him and within hearing of what passed. 

By a powerful effort he mastered his emotion, referring it to theimpression made upon him by her appearance. He spoke also of sacrifices, which, even when voluntarily made, painfully wound the heart; of aself-abnegation which could find its consolation in the happiness of afriend, but which failed not to leave a sting in the soul that hadcherished fallacious hopes. 

Mary understood him, and was grateful for his kindness. 

"Thanks, thanks, signor, " she said, warmly, as she passed on to saluteother guests. 

When Mary approached the piano, and addressed a few kind words to MasterChristian, many Italian gentlemen begged her to favor them with a_canzone_. 

With her father's permission, the young girl consented to gratify theguests. She hesitated awhile as to the language in which to sing, and wasturning over the leaves of a book handed her by Master Christian. The oldDeodati expressed a wish to hear a song in the language of the LowCountries, and begging pardon of the Italian gentlemen, Mary said shewould sing a _Kyrie Eleison_ in her maternal tongue. 

Master Christian seated himself at the piano, to accompany her, andcommenced a prelude. 

The first notes of the young girl were like a gentle murmur. By degreesher voice became firmer and stronger, until at the end of each strophe theword _eleïson_ rose like a sonorous hymn to heaven. 

The measure was remarkably slow, simple, and full of a tranquil melody. Mary evidently felt the peculiar character of this chant, for instead ofendeavoring to add to the effect, she softened still more her singularlysweet voice, and let the words drop slowly from her lips, as if thesongstress herself were ravished in contemplation and was listening tocelestial music. 

At first the Italian gentlemen exchanged glances, as if to express thethought that this chant could not compare with the brilliant lively styleof the Italian music. But this unfavorable opinion was not of longduration. They, like all others, soon yielded to the irresistiblefascination of Mary's exquisite voice. They listened with such raptattention that not the slightest movement was made in the room, and onemight have heard the murmur of the leaves in the garden as they weregently stirred by the breeze of May. 

Mary had concluded her song and lifted her eyes to heaven with anexpression of adoration. All who gazed upon her felt as though they werecontemplating an angel before the throne of God. Even Simon Turchi wassubdued by admiration, and he even momentarily lost sight of the hatredand jealousy which lacerated his heart. 

Mary thus sang:

 Kyrie! Lo, our God comes, Mankind to save from ill and bless: What grateful joy should break our gloom And fill our hearts with happiness!

 Kyrie eleison!--God is born! A virgin mother gives him birth; And sin's dark bonds asunder torn, Sweet heaven again inclines to earth. 

 Kyrie!--hear!--the sacred font

 Pours forth its saving waters free-- And Thou impressest on our front The sign that drives our foes away. 

 Christe!--anointed victim!--Thou, Who in thy death bestowest life-- The healing remedy for woe-- Ah! earth with many a woe is rife. 

 Christe eleison!--brother dear-- Our liberator from all ill-- Strong in Thy virtue, free from fear, And be our help to virtue still. 

 Christe eleison! God and man-- Our only consolation here-- Oh! do not leave us 'neath the ban Of sorrow perilous and drear. 

 Oh! Kyrie, Father--Kyrie Son-- Kyrie Spirit--we adore The Triune God--Thee, only One! Grant we may praise Thee evermore!

Silence reigned in the room some moments after the last sound had diedaway, and then arose a murmur of admiration, and the young girl wasoverwhelmed with felicitations. 

Whilst being thus complimented, Mary noticed Geronimo at a little distancefrom her. Desirous, perhaps, of escaping the praises lavished upon her, or, it may be, yielding to a real desire, she approached the young man, drew him towards the piano, and insisted upon his singing an Italian aria. 

Geronimo at first refused, but his uncle requested him to yield to theentreaties of the young girl. Taking up a lute, he hastily tuned it, andsang the first word of the aria _Italia!_ in such a tone of enthusiasmthat it struck a responsive chord in every Italian heart. The notes fellfrom his lips like a shower of brilliant stars; his bosom heaved, his eyessparkled, and his rich tenor voice filling the hall produced anindescribable effect upon the auditors. As his song proceeded, it seemedto gain in expression and vigor, and as he repeated the refrain _Mia bellaItalia!_ for the last time, his compatriots were so carried away by theirenthusiasm that, forgetful of decorum, all, even the most aged, wavedtheir caps, exclaiming:

"_Italia! Italia!_"

Tears stood in the eyes of many. 

Geronimo was complimented by all present. His uncle called him his belovedson, Mary spoke to him in the most flattering manner, and Mr. Van de Werveshook hands with him cordially. 

As to Simon Turchi, he was overpowered; all he had just seen and heard wassuch a martyrdom; jealousy so gnawed his heart that he sank deeper anddeeper into the abyss of hatred and vengeance. He stood a few steps fromGeronimo, his eyes downcast, and trembling with emotion. 

No one noticed him. Had he attracted attention, his friends would havesupposed that, like the other Italians, he had been moved by the chant ofhis compatriot. 

Turchi soon roused himself. Like a man who has taken a sudden resolution, he walked up to Geronimo, smiled pleasantly, and threw his arms around hisneck. 

"Thanks, thanks, Geronimo!" he exclaimed. "You have made me truly happy bygiving me additional cause to be proud of my country. "

While embracing him, he also whispered:

"Geronimo, I wish to speak privately to you this evening. I will go to thegarden presently; try to follow me; you will be pleased. "

Having said these words, he fell back as if to make way for Mr. Fugger, the rich banker, who wished to offer his congratulations. 

The servants reappeared in the hall with wines and various delicacies. 

Master Christian was tuning his violin. The guests, informed that thisexcellent artist was about to entertain them with his wonderful skill, drew near the piano. 

Geronimo, perplexed by the words of Simon Turchi, watched his friend andsought an opportunity to speak to him alone. He saw him leave the room, and as the entrance of the servants with refreshments, and the desire ofthe guests to approach Master Christian, had caused a stir among thecompany, the young man was enabled to rejoin Simon in the garden. 

The garden, situated in the rear of the house, although not large, wascrossed by several winding paths, and along the wall were wide-spreadingtrees and blocks of verdure. 

When Geronimo entered the garden, he perceived several persons who hadleft the heated apartment to enjoy the fresh air, and who were walking indifferent directions. 

As he was seeking in the dim light to distinguish Simon Turchi, the latterapproached from an arbor, took his arm and led him in silence to a retiredpart of the garden, where he seated himself on a bench, and said in lowtone:

"Sit down, Geronimo! I have good news for you. "

"Ah! have you succeeded in obtaining the money?"

"I have been successful. But come nearer! no one must overhear us. Aforeign merchant, whom I saved two years ago from dishonor and ruin, atthe risk of my own destruction, will furnish me with the means ofreturning you the ten thousand crowns. "

"God be praised!" said Geronimo, with a sigh of relief. "He will not longdelay, I hope, to fulfil his generous designs. "

"I will pay you to-morrow what I owe you. "

"To-morrow? how fortunate!"

"But, Geronimo, I cannot bring you the money; you must come for ityourself. "

"It would be a trifle were I obliged to go to Cologne. "

"You need not go so far. Only go to my country-seat near the hospital. Silence! some one approaches!"

After a moment's silence, Turchi resumed:

"He has passed. You must know, Geronimo, that the foreign merchant desireshis presence in Antwerp to remain unknown, and I have promised to keep himconcealed in my garden for several days. [17] He wishes to assist me, buthe is over-prudent and distrustful. I will sign the receipt for the sum helends me. He requires, for greater security, that you sign it also. "

"What mystery is this?" said the young man. "I must sign with you forsecurity! Who is this merchant? Is he a fugitive from justice?"

"What has that to do with the affair? It is not my secret, Geronimo, and Ipromised to conceal his name. If you be saved from your presentembarrassment, will you not have attained your object? It is true that youwill be my security, but the ten thousand crowns will be in the moneyvault, and your uncle will not find one florin missing. Your only dangerwould arise from an inability on my part to meet the note. But you needfear nothing in that respect. In a few months my resources will beabundant. I take this step only to save you from a present imminentdanger. You must know, Geronimo, that I would prefer to have you alone formy creditor. "

"Certainly, Simon, and I am most grateful to you for your kindness. Willthis merchant give me the amount in coin?"

"No, but in bills of exchange on Milan, Florence, and Lucca. "

"Good and reliable bills, Simon?"

"You shall be the judge before accepting them. Fear nothing, you shall befully satisfied. "

"Well, I will go. After Change, between five and six o'clock, will thatanswer?"

"It makes no difference to me, provided I know the hour beforehand. "

"Expect me, then, to-morrow, between five and six o'clock. But let usreturn to the house. Our long absence might cause remark. "

Simon Turchi arose, but remained standing in the same spot, and said:

"Geronimo, I have promised the merchant that none but yourself shall knowof his presence in Antwerp. Say nothing, therefore, to your uncle, toMary, nor to any one else. The least indiscretion might disarrange ourplans, and be perilous to the stranger. Come alone, without anyattendant. "

"I will do as you direct, " said Geronimo, "but it will be impossible forme to remain until dark. My uncle will be seriously displeased if I go outagain at night without a sufficient guard. "

"I will not detain you over half an hour. "

At that moment a servant from the house entered the garden looking forGeronimo. 

"Signor Geronimo, " he said, "Mr. Van de Werve is inquiring for you, asMiss Van de Werve is about to retire from the company, and Signor Deodatiwishes to return home. He is awaiting you. "

The two gentlemen followed the servant; on the way, Turchi again said in alow voice:

"To-morrow, between the hours of five and six. "

The old Deodati was already at the door with five or six attendants. Hewas displeased by the long absence of his nephew, and was about toremonstrate with him. But, by Turchi's explanation, this want of attentionwas pardoned, and he was even permitted to bid a hasty adieu to Mary andher father. 

He returned almost immediately, and offering his arm to his uncle, heleft Mr. Van de Werve's house. 

As he moved on, Simon Turchi glanced at him entreatingly, as if to insistupon secrecy. 

CHAPTER VI. 

SIMON TURCHI WREAKS HIS VENGEANCE ON GERONIMO. 

It was about five o'clock in the afternoon. Julio was seated in one of therooms of his master's dwelling, his arms crossed upon his breast. Absorbedin deep thought, he had his eyes fixed on an arm-chair which stood nearthe only window in the room, and from time to time he shook his head withan expression of anxious doubt. 

The footsteps of a man in the room above interrupted his reflections; anironical smile passed over his features as he muttered:

"He calls me a coward, the dastard that he is! For one hour he has beenrunning about from room to room as though pursued by invisible spectres. How cunningly he has devised the whole affair in his own interest. Juliois to kill poor Geronimo! Julio is to bury the body in the cellar! Juliois to do all by himself! When we deal with false people, we must be on ourguard. His intention is clear enough to me; he wishes to secure means, incase of necessity, of accusing me alone of the crime. He may threaten andrage as much as he pleases; he shall deal the mortal blow him self, orGeronimo shall leave this place unharmed. "

Julio remained silent for a few moments, passed his hand across his brow, and said, looking at the chair:

"Think that in one hour that infernal seat will hold a corpse! The corpseof the most noble, affable gentleman I have ever known. May his good angelprevent him from visiting this cut-throat place! Signor Turchi will killhim; but I must aid him. [18] What will be the end of this bloody tragedy?The scaffold for the master, and the gallows for the servant. This is theconsequence of my disorderly life. Had I not gone, in a moment ofintoxication, and without knowing it, to the place where Judge Voltaï wasassassinated, I would not have been obliged to fly from my country, andSignor Turchi would not have it in his power to force me to become hisaccomplice in a frightful crime. The old cure of Porto-Fino said truly, that 'Sin is a labyrinth; if once we enter, we loose the thread whichenables us to return to virtue. ' Ah! would I were with my mother in Italy. Useless wish. It is too late; I am banished from my country, and a priceset on my head. "

He reflected for a few moments, then, with a gesture of impatience, heresumed:

"Come, come; of what good are all such thoughts? I am in his power, and Imust yield to necessity; but once let the blow be struck, once let himcommit a crime of which I can produce the proofs, then I will be master, and in my turn I will cry in his ears: 'Simon Turchi, fear the bailiff andthe executioner!' At the present moment I am powerless; if I took anymeans to prevent the attempt, he might destroy all evidence of hiscriminal design, and deliver me up to the authorities of Lucca. I would betaken into Italy and broken on the wheel, in the very place where my poorold mother lives. I have always been a cause of sorrow to her; at least Iwill spare her this last disgrace. But the signor is coming down. He willreiterate his entreaties to me to strike the fatal blow; but I will nothave the blood of this innocent gentleman on me. "

Simon Turchi was approaching. His face was very pale, but the scar whichfurrowed his cheek was of a more ashy hue. He did not tremble, but hewalked precipitately, and he clasped his hands convulsively, like a manwhose impatience can brook no delay. 

He noticed that his servant was in deep thought, his head bowed upon hischest, and it was only on his near approach that Julio suddenly rousedfrom his preoccupation. He entered the room and said:

"Julio, the hour is nigh. Of what are you thinking? Are you afraid?"

"Afraid?" replied Julio, with a light laugh; "why should _I_ be afraid?"

"True, true, " murmured Simon, "since I alone shall shed his blood. "

"But, " continued Julio, "if I have no cause for personal fear, would notlove for my master fill me with painful thoughts? Signor, you are playingfor dangerous stakes. "

"Who will know what has taken place here?"

"Who? Is there not an eye above which sees all? And whilst here, in thedeepest secrecy, you immolate a human being to your thirst for vengeance, will not God hear the cry of agony of the Signor Geronimo?"

Julio saw, with a secret joy, that his words made his master tremble, although he tried to dissemble his feelings under an assumedinsensibility. 

"What a good joke!" replied Simon; "Pietro Mostajo talking of God! Myprecautions are too well taken; when the cellar will be the depository ofthe secret, there will be none to tell it. "

"Do you think so, signor? When has such a murder ever remained concealed?It is not surprising that I bowed my head in thought. In imagination I sawsuch terrible things that I dare not tell them to you. Tears still fill myeyes at the thought. "

"What did you see?" asked Turchi, with increasing anxiety. 

"What did I see? The bailiff and his attendants. They bound a man's hand'sbehind his back; they dragged him through the streets like an odiouscriminal; the people cast filth and dirt upon the prisoner, and cried out, 'Murderer!' What did I see? A scaffold, and on this scaffold anexecutioner and one condemned to death; then a sword glittered in thesunlight, it fell, a stream of blood flowed, and a head rolled in thedust. "

The servant stopped intentionally; but his master convulsively caught hisarm, and said in a hoarse voice:

"What then? What then?"

"And then the crowd applauded and poured out maledictions upon the name. "

"Whose name?"

"Yours, signor?"

Simon Turchi was so overpowered by the picture thus presented of hisprobable end, that he uttered a cry of terror and sprang back, trembling. He cast down his eyes for a moment in silence. 

Julio contemplated the signor, thus overpowered by emotion, with aderisive smile. He had not called up this vivid scene solely as a means toinduce his master to renounce his perilous enterprise; his motive was alsoto terrify him and to revenge himself for the violence he had been forcedto endure from him. 

The impression made upon Simon Turchi by this highly-wrought predictiondid not last long. He raised his head, and said, in a contemptuous manner:

"Base hypocrite; it is your own fear which excites your imagination to seesuch things. The most courageous man would become cowardly with thecowardly. It is unfortunate for me that I need you, otherwise I would soonrid myself of your presence. But I, at least, will not recoil from theundertaking. Speak; tell me how far I may depend upon you. The clock willsoon strike, and there is no time for hesitation. "

"We will see which of us will the more coolly perform his part of thetask. You are mistaken, signor; fear does not disturb me. Sympathy for yousuggested the train of thought, and I considered it my duty to placebefore your eyes once more the abyss into which you might fall. "

"Be silent; it is too late, " exclaimed Simon Turchi, beside himself withrage. "Fool, do you desire my ruin--my eternal dishonor? Shall I let myenemy live? Shall I let him--him the husband of Mary Van de Werve--lookdown upon me from the height of his grandeur and felicity? No, no. Imyself will be, must be, happy, rich, prosperous; and even should allescape my grasp; should the scaffold be my lot, the rage of vengeancewhich lacerates my heart must be satisfied.... Nothing, nothing, canrestrain me; and, Julio, were you an obstacle in my path, I would passover your dead body to strike a fatal blow at him who has poisoned mylife. Do not attempt to thwart me, or I will crush you where you stand. "

At these words Simon Turchi placed his hand on the hilt of his sword; hisface was scarlet, his lips trembled, and his eyes flashed. 

This threat did not disturb Julio, probably because he thought his mastercould not execute it. An ironical smile played upon his lips; he steppedback one or two paces, drew his knife, and said, mockingly:

"It would be strange, signor, if Geronimo should find us engaged in acombat. It might save his life. "

"What! would you dare?"

"Why not? Do you think Julio would permit himself to be led like a sheepto the slaughter?"

"Listen! Ho comes!" exclaimed Simon Turchi, starting with terror. 

The repeated strokes of the knocker resounded through the court-yard wherethe little door gave entrance into the garden. 

"Julio, I ask you again, " said Turchi, anxiously, "what reliance I mayplace upon you?"

"I will do what I have promised--neither more nor less. "

"Then go open the door. Be guarded in your words, and show no disquietude. Bring him to this room; tell him that I am engaged with the foreignmerchant; if he does not sit down at once, watch a favorable moment tolead him to the arm-chair. Then call me and I will do the rest. "

"You, then, are determined to make me entice the Signor Geronimo to sitdown in the arm-chair?"

Turchi replied in a threatening voice and with flashing eyes:

"Pietro Mostajo, remember the Superintendent of Lucca. "

Julio left the building, went to the garden-gate and opened it. 

"Benvenuto, Signor Geronimo, " he said, "what good luck brings you here ona visit to my master? It is a long time since we have seen you. "

"It is indeed a long time, " replied the young noble with a genial smile, as he walked towards the house. "But the place looks so wild and uncaredfor. Did not the Signor Turchi speak of having the garden put in order?"

"Yes; but for some time my master has been very melancholy, and nothingseems to give him pleasure. "

"I know it, Julio; but things will be better for him now. "

"Would that your words were true, signor!"

"What a heavy sigh, Julio. You excite my fears. Is your master ill?"

The servant felt the importance of self-control, if he would not arousethe gentleman's suspicions. He therefore said, in a careless manner:

"Nothing is the matter, signor. My master is very well, and to-day is in agood humor. Ever since I saw Bufferio's sword lifted against you, I havesuffered from an occasional sudden palpitation of the heart. I find reliefonly in a deep sigh. "

As they thus talked together, he conducted Geronimo to the room containingthe large arm-chair. 

"Signor Geronimo, " he said, "my master is up-stairs. I will inform him ofyour arrival. Please be seated. "

Julio left the room; but instead of ascending the staircase, he hidhimself behind a door and listened attentively to hear the clasping of thesprings of the chair. 

After having waited in vain, for a long time, he returned to the room, andsaid to the gentleman:

"Signor, my master begs you to excuse him for a while. He is engagedtransacting some business with the merchant of whom he spoke to youyesterday. They are preparing a writing for you. Have the kindness to waita few moments. "

He now thought that Geronimo would, of his own accord, take the arm-chair, and with a beating heart he observed his movements. But he wasdisappointed, for the young cavalier stood at the window, gazingthoughtfully into the garden. 

Although Julio knew with what mistrust and impatience his master wascounting each passing moment, he said to Geronimo, with assumedindifference:

"It is at least half a mile from the Dominican Convent to this place, andyou must be fatigued after your walk. Will you not rest in this arm-chair, signor?"

"No, I thank you. I am not in the least fatigued. I love to look at thosebeautiful trees clothed in their fresh May verdure. "

An involuntary movement of impatience escaped the servant. 

"You need not remain here on my account, Julio, " said Geronimo. "Go toyour work; I will stay alone. "

"I have no urgent occupation, signor. If I still remain, contrary to yourwish, it is to ask you a question; and yet I fear that you will bedispleased at my boldness. "

"Not at all, Julio. Can I render you any service? It will give me pleasureto show my gratitude for the courage with which you defended me when I wasattacked by the ruffians. "

"I had no reference to that. I heard you were about to marry the beautifulMiss Van de Werve. The news rejoiced me; but may your humble servant makefree to ask you if it be true?"

The name of his betrothed flushed his cheek with joy, and he answered, with a smile:

"Yes, Julio, it is true. "

"How blessed you are, signor!"

"Yes, Julio, God has bestowed upon me the greatest earthly blessing, forwhich I shall eternally thank him. On the solemn day of our nuptials youwill have cause to rejoice. "

"I, signor?"

"Yes, you, Julio. Miss Van de Werve wishes to recompense you herself forthe assistance you gave me against Bufferio and his comrades. The day ofmy marriage you will receive a new cloak, a new doublet, new small-clothesof fine cloth and silk, such as a servant has never worn. "

Julio, touched by this proof of kindness, stammered his thanksindistinctly. He heard the young man speaking to him and telling him howrichly he deserved such a present, but he paid no attention to the words;he was endeavoring to bring himself to the degree of audacity requisite tofulfil his master's orders. Geronimo stood immediately in front of thearm-chair. 

With bitter repugnance, but incited by the fear that no more favorableopportunity would present itself, he approached Geronimo as though toexpress his thanks anew. With one bound he sprang upon him, placed a handon either shoulder, and pushed him forcibly into the chair. [19]

The seat of the deceptive piece of furniture sank down; from the armsstarted two powerful springs, which caught the young man around the waist, and held him so tightly against the back of the chair that it wasimpossible for him to move. 

"Julio, Julio, what horrible jest is this?" he exclaimed. "Is it a trap?Do you act by your master's orders?"

But the servant, without saying a word in reply, left the room, closingthe door behind him. 

"Tell me, Julio, " asked Turchi, descending the staircase to meet hisservant, "is he caught?"

"The chair has done its work, " replied Julio; "go do yours. Lose no time;he might give an alarm which would betray us. The fear of death givessuperhuman strength to a man's lungs. Signor, it seems to me that my headis not safe on my shoulders. How does yours feel?"

But Simon Turchi heeded not this jest. He muttered a few indistinct words, drew his sword, and rushed down the steps to wreak his vengeance on theunfortunate Geronimo. 

The servant remained where his master left him, listened to his footstepsuntil he heard the door of the fatal room open and then close again. 

At first no sound reached his ear, but soon he heard Geronimo calling forhelp, and his master mocking and menacing him; at least he judged this bythe tones of their voices, for he was too far off to distinguish thewords. Urged by feeling rather than curiosity, he descended the staircase, and listened at the door of the room in which so horrible a crime wasabout to be committed. 

He heard Geronimo say, in an earnest, pleading tone:

"Dear Simon, your mind is deranged. You, my friend, kill me! It isimpossible. Put down that dagger; at least let me not die withoutconfession. If it be the ten thousand crowns exasperating you, I make youa present of them; tear up in my presence the acknowledgment of the debt, and I will never speak to you of it again. "

"Mary, Mary Van de Werve!" howled Simon Turchi, with biting sarcasm. 

"I will renounce her hand and leave for Italy, and never again will I seea country so fatal to me, to her, to all that I love. "

"It is too late--too late. You must die!"

"No, no, Simon; in pity to yourself do not imbue your hands in my innocentblood. God sees us; your conscience will torture you; never again willthere be peace for you on earth, and your poor soul will be miserable forall eternity. No, Simon, do not kill me. "

Then came a frightful cry, as though he were crushed, and Julio heard asound which seemed like that of a dagger against metal. 

This blow, however--if it were a blow--was not mortal, for Geronimo raisedhis voice with the strength of despair, and cried out:

"Help! help! Simon, let me live! Mercy! mercy!"

Then a mournful groan escaped his lips, while, as his voice died away, hprayed:

"My God, my God, forgive him! I am dying. "

On hearing the conclusion of this horrible tragedy, Julio retired to thefoot of the staircase. He had hardly reached it, when the door of the roomopened, and his master appeared. 

Disfigured as Simon Turchi's countenance had been by the thirst forrevenge, crime made it still more frightful. The signor could hardly havebeen recognized. His hair stood upright; his eyes rolled in their sockets;a hard, hoarse sound escaped his lips; blood dripped from his hands. 

He ran by his servant without speaking to him, ascended the staircase, andhaving reached his room he threw himself panting upon a chair. 

Julio, who had followed him, placed himself before him, and asked:

"Well, signor, is the deed accomplished?"

"It is; let me take breath, " said Turchi, breathing heavily. 

After waiting a few moments, Julio resumed:

"Did he offer any resistance, that you are so fatigued, signor?"

"Resistance? No; but when I attempted the first time to pierce him to theheart, the blade of my dagger struck against metal, and grated harshly. Hewears a breastplate, Julio. Could he have suspected my intentions?"

Turchi's dagger had evidently struck the amulet which the young man alwayswore around his neck. 

"Possibly, " replied Julio, "Geronimo may wear some guard on his breast; itis the place against which a poignard is always aimed, and no one issecure in the darkness of night from the assault of an enemy or anassassin; but what is there in this circumstance to move you so deeply?"

"So much blood spouted from the wound. The sight of the blood, togetherwith Geronimo's piteous cries, struck me with anguish and horror. Itottered so that I feared I would fall before completing the work; buthappily I gained the strength to finish what I had commenced. I piercedhis throat with my poignard, and hushed his voice forever. "

"And is he really dead?"

"Not a drop of blood is left in his veins. "

Simon Turchi had recovered from his excessive emotion. He arose and said:

"I must wash the blood from my hands, and efface the least spot thatmight betray me. Then I must go on Change and transact some business withpeople who will remember to have seen me there at that time. Later, I willcall on Mr. Van de Werve. I must be seen in different places and speakwith many people. Go down, Julio, and drag the corpse to the cellar. Thenclear away every sign of blood. I need not tell you that your life, aswell as mine, depends upon the care with which you perform this task. "

"I know it, signor. The blow has been struck, and I am not a man toneglect the precautions necessary to escape the gallows, if I can. "

"I have accomplished my task, Julio; go do yours. "

"Drag the corpse, by myself, into the cellar? No, no, signor; you musthelp me. "

"I have not the time, Julio. I must go immediately to the city. "

"It is of no consequence to me. I will not remain alone in this cut-throatplace. "

"And what if I ordered you to do so?" exclaimed Turchi, trembling withanger. 

"You would do so in vain, signor. You will work with me until all isdone. "

"Pietro Mostajo, do you dare to defy me, and that too at the very momentwhen the blood is boiling in my veins? Do as I command, or before nightthe authorities of Lucca shall know who you are. "

"Ah!" said Julio, with a scornful laugh, "Pietro Mostajo and theauthorities of Lucca have lost their power over me. As long as I had noproofs of crime against you, I had cause to fear you; but would you darenow to reveal my real name, now that by one word I can deliver you intothe hands of the executioner? Hereafter, signor, you will speak to meneither so harshly nor so haughtily. In this affair there is neithermaster nor servant. We are two men, guilty of the same crime. Draw yourdagger, if you choose. Vain threat! Can you do without me?"

Simon Turchi grit his teeth in impotent rage; but soon recovering himself, he took his servant's hand, and said beseechingly:

"You are right, Julio; we are rather two friends than master and servant. Let me then, as friend and companion, implore a favor at your hands. Youmust see that it is important for me to go without delay to the factory tochange my dress. For the safety of both of us I ought to leave immediatelyfor the city, in order to prevent suspicion. Geronimo is not heavy; youcan, without difficulty, drag him down stairs. "

The servant shook his head, but was evidently hesitating. 

"Come, Julio; I beg, I entreat you to do what the safety of both of usrequires. You still hesitate, Julio? I will reward you generously. Thisvery evening I will give you two crowns if you tell me you have donefaithfully and carefully what I have requested. "

"Will you be here, signor, when I return from the cellar?"

"I don't know, Julio; as soon as I have washed off the blood, I shallleave. Make haste, and possibly you may find me here. In all events I willwait for you this evening at the factory, and besides the two crowns, Iwill give you a whole bottle of Malmsey. "

"Agreed, " said Julio; "I will do my best to please you. "

He descended the staircase, and when he reached the room where thehorrible murder had been committed, he stood for a moment with his armsfolded. He turned pale and shook his head compassionately. 

The poor Geronimo was extended in the chair, with his eyes closed. Hishead had fallen on the arm of the chair; his two hands were joined, as ifin prayer for his cruel murderer. His garments were saturated with blood, and his feet rested in a pool of blood. There was a large wound in hisneck and another in his breast; his face was not in the least stained, andalthough it was covered by the pallor of death, his countenance wore asweet, tranquil expression, as though he had gently fallen asleep. 

"Poor Signor Geronimo!" said Julio, sighing heavily. "Beauty! generosity!wealth! all fallen under the blade of a wretch! What is man's life? He, however, will in heaven, with God, be indemnified for his horrible death. And we? But the present is not the time for reflections and lamentations;my pity will not restore this corpse to life. I must now close my eyes tothe future, and fulfil my horrible task. "

He knelt behind the chair, passed his arm under it, and turned a screw. The springs opened and loosed their hold upon the inanimate body. 

Julio held it by the arms and dragged it through the hall until he reacheda staircase conducting to a cellar. There he left the corpse, entered anadjoining room, and returned with a lamp. Holding the light in his hand, he descended until he reached a subterranean passage. Very deep under theground, and at the end of this passage, was a kind of vaulted cellarclosed by a heavy door. Julio opened the door, and by the light of thelamp examined a grave which had been dug in one corner of the cellar, andon the sides of which lay the earth which had been excavated. [20]

After a rapid survey, he placed the lamp outside the door against the wallof the passage, and returned for the dead body. 

When he had carried his burden as far as the subterranean passage, hepanted for breath and seemed overcome by fatigue. He, however, exerted allhis strength in order to finish as soon as possible his painful task, anddragged the corpse into the cellar. There he let it fall upon the side ofthe grave already prepared for its reception. After resting a few moments, he was about to cast it into the grave and cover it with earth, but hedesisted, saying:

"Bah! the poor young man will not run away. Perhaps Signor Turchi has notyet left. At any rate, I will first wash away the blood stains, and then Iwill return to bury the body. "

He took the lamp and left the cellar, without closing the door. 

On reaching the room he found that his master had gone. 

The solitude disquieted him, particularly as it was now nearly dark, andhe could hardly hope to finish before night cleaning the blood-stainedfloors and staircase. 

He appeared, however, to submit to necessity, and prepared for his work bygetting water and brushes. 

The evening was far advanced, and still Julio was occupied in scouring. How it happened he could not understand, but new spots of blood werecontinually appearing, even in places that he had washed several times. This was particularly the case in the room where the murder had beencommitted. Do what he would, he could not efface the marks of blood. Thesweat poured down his cheeks and he vented his rage in angry words againsthis master. 

It may have been fatigue, or perhaps the deepening shades of nightrendered his nervous system sensitive to the slightest impression; for atthe least sound of the wind through the leaves of the trees, at the leastgrating of the weathercock as it turned on its pivot, he stopped his workand looked anxiously around him. 

He succeeded, however, in stifling these emotions, and continued his laboron the fatal spot where the chair had stood. 

Finally he arose, took the lamp, examined attentively the whole floor, andsaid, with a kind of satisfaction:

"At last I have finished! He who could discover a spot there could seethrough a stone. My arms are almost broken; I can scarcely straightenmyself. Now for my last task! a grave is soon filled; in a half hour Ishall be far from this accursed place. "

Saying these words, he left the room, and taking the lamp descended againthe staircase leading to the cellar. 

When he had reached the middle of the subterranean passage, he suddenlystopped, turned pale from terror, and looked tremblingly around him. Hethought he heard something, an unusual, mysterious sound, faint butdistinct. 

Having listened for some time, he concluded that his imagination haddeceived him. Summoning up all his resolution, he walked on towards thecellar, and through the open, door he saw the corpse of Geronimo lying ashe had left it. 

As he was approaching the cellar, full of anxiety and slackening his pace, suddenly a human voice fell upon his ear. There was articulate sound, nospoken word, but only a hollow groan. 

Julio, in an agony of terror, dropped the lamp. The oil extinguished theflame, and thus left in total darkness he fled from the cellar as rapidlyas he could by groping along the wall. His heart beat violently, and hislimbs tottered under him. 

He recovered himself a little only after attaining a distant apartment andlighting a lamp. Here he remained a long time seated and buried inthought; various expressions of fear, anger, and even raillery flittedacross his face. 

At last he arose, drew a knife from its scabbard, and trying itssharpness, murmured:

"I cannot bury him alive! Therefore I am forced to deal the death-blow!No, no, I will not; I have even braved the vengeance of my perfidiousmaster in order not to imbue my hands in his blood, and I will not now beguilty of it. But what can I do? I have no other alternative. I musteither bury him alive or kill him! And I cannot stay here all night. "

He took up the lamp and slowly and silently he cautiously descended thestairs leading to the cellar; after some hesitation he entered; Geronimo'sbody still lay in the position he left it. 

Julio had taken this time a much larger lamp, and it lighted the wholecellar; he heard no sound from the breast of the unfortunate victim, although he saw plainly that life was not extinct, for there was a slightheaving of the breast. 

After listening a moment, Julio muttered, with a kind of joy:

"No additional cruelty is necessary. He is in his death-agony, and he willsoon die. I will shut the door and finish my work to-morrow. But my masterwill ask if all is done? He need know nothing of this circumstance. But Ilong to get away; and may the vengeance of God fall upon this spotto-night, and blot out all memento of it!"

Shortly after he left the garden, and with rapid strides threaded theobscure streets to rejoin his master, and also to cast off hisblood-stained garments. 

CHAPTER VII. 

GRIEF AT GEROME'S ABSENCE--TURCHI'S HYPOCRISY. 

Mary Van De Werve was in her own apartment, kneeling before a silvercrucifix; she seemed bowed down by a weight of woe. Her head rested uponher clasped hands. She had been weeping bitterly; for there were traces oftears upon the _prie-Dieu_. 

Had a stranger surprised the young girl in this attitude, he might havethought that sleep had overpowered her during prayer; but the gaspingbreath and heaving chest sufficiently attested that she had not sunk insleep, but that she was plunged in an expressible sorrow. 

Behind her was seated an old woman, her duenna, with a rosary in her hand. She gazed upon the young girl with deep compassion; from time to time sheshook her head, and wiped away the tears which dimmed her eyes wheneverMary's sighs became heavier. 

For some time the silence was unbroken; Mary even appeared somewhatcalmer, when suddenly, influenced by some peculiarly painful thought, sheextended her arms to heaven and cried out;

"My God and my Saviour! through thy precious blood spare his life! Havemercy on him! reject not the prayer of my broken heart!"

Again her head fell on her hands, as if this burning petition hadexhausted her strength. The duenna approached her, took her arm, endeavored to lift her, and said, authoritatively:

"My lady, you must rise and cease your prayer. God may be displeased withyou for thus deliberately endangering your health. Come, obey me. "

Mary arose without reply, and took the seat offered her by the duenna. Shewas very pale, and her eyes were swollen from weeping. 

The duenna looked upon her with an eye of pity; she took her hand, andsaid, gently:

"Mary, my child, you cannot continue this; such an excess of sorrow wouldshorten your days. And what pain to the poor Geronimo on his return, tofind you condemned to a short and suffering life! Through love for him, Ibeg you to control yourself. "

"On his return?" repeated Mary, raising her tearful eyes to heaven. 

"Why not?" replied the duenna. "Why despair before being certain of theevil you dread? More extraordinary things have happened. "

"Already five days--five centuries of suspense and fear! Ah! Petronilla, what a frightful night I passed! I saw Geronimo extended on the ground, the pallor of death on his face, a large wound was in his breast, and hislifeless eyes were fixed on me as if with his last breath he had bade meadieu. "

"These are illusions caused by grief, Mary. "

"More than twenty times I saw him thus; in vain I strove to shut out thehorrible vision; day alone brought me relief. "

The duenna took her hand, and said, tenderly:

"You are wrong, Mary, to cherish your grief in this manner. Your dreams atnight were but the reflection of your thoughts by day. I, too, sawGeronimo in sleep more than once. "

"You, too, Petronilla, you saw Geronimo?" exclaimed the young girl, withemotion, as though she feared the confirmation of her own terrific dream. 

"Why not, Mary; do I think of him less than you?"

"You saw him dying, did you not?"

"On the contrary, I saw him return joyfully and cast himself into the armsof his uncle and embrace your father. And you, my child, I saw youkneeling on this same _prie-Dieu_, thanking God that your dreams werefalse and deceiving. "

Mary smiled as she listened to the duenna's consoling words, but scarcelyhad Petronilla ceased speaking than she suspected the artifice. 

"You deceive me through friendship and compassion, " she said, sadly. "I amgrateful to you, my good Petronilla; but tell me to what cause you canattribute Geronimo's absence. Come, call upon your imagination; find apossible, probable explanation. "

Disconcerted by this direct interrogation, the duenna shook her head. 

"There is no plausible reason, " said Mary. 

The old Petronilla, in the greatest embarrassment, stammered out a fewwords as to an unexpected journey, secrets he might be unable to divulge;she even suggested that his friends might have prevailed upon him to joinin a party of pleasure; but all these were such vague suppositions thatMary plainly saw in them an acknowledgment that she could find noreasonable explanation of Geronimo's absence. 

Mary's tears flowed faster. 

"Oh, Petronilla!" she exclaimed, in heart-rending tones; "the light of mylife is forever extinguished. Geronimo, so young, so good, so noble, sogifted, the unfortunate victim of a mysterious murderer! Frightfulthought! and no room for hope! Mercy, my God, mercy! My heart is breaking;never more will I see him in this world. "

And uttering a cry of anguish, she covered her face with her hands. 

"I acknowledge, Mary, " said the duenna, dejectedly, "that Geronimo'sabsence is inexplicable; but why look on the worst side and accept it astruth? You know that during the last four days every possible effort hasbeen made to discover Geronimo. Mr. Van Schoonhoven, the bailiff, haspledged his honor to find him dead, or alive. "

Mary wept in silence, and heeded not the words of the duenna. 

"Perhaps, my child, " the old woman resumed, "this very day the doubt whichhas caused you so much suffering for five days may be cleared up. Do notclose your heart against all hope. I remember that once an individual wassought for weeks, and found alive when there seemed almost a certainty ofhis death. The bailiff was speaking of it this morning to your father, andI recollect having heard my parents relate it. It happened to a banker, Liefmans, who was considered very wealthy. "

The young girl regarded the duenna with an air of doubt. 

"They found him after several weeks of absence? Had he gone on a journeywithout giving notice to any one?"

"No; he was discovered in the cellar of a house in the little by-street ofSureau. Robbers had laid in wait for him in the darkness of night, andcast him bound into a subterranean cave, in order to obtain a heavyransom. The agents of the bailiff discovered him and liberated himunharmed. If God has so decreed, why may not the same have happened to theSignor Geronimo? You are silent, Mary. You cannot deny that a similartrain of circumstances may have been the cause of his disappearance. Is itnot so? but you yield to despair, and even in the act of beggingconsolation from Almighty God, you reject obstinately every motive ofconsolation. "

"Pity me, dear Petronilla, " answered the young girl; "your kind words area solace to me, but I dare not open my heart to the whisperings of hope. If I accepted your explanations, and afterwards heard of Geronimo's death, it would be double suffering to me. No, no, rather let me encourage thefeeling that there is no room for hope. "

"It is impossible to make any impression upon her, " said the duenna, in adisappointed manner, and as if she were resolved to cease her efforts andto abandon the young girl to her grief. 

The silence was broken by the sound of voices in the hall. 

"I hear the voice of the Signor Deodati, " said the duenna; "perhaps hebrings tidings. "

Mary rose quickly to descend; but Petronilla wished to detain her, saying:

"My child, in pity to a sorrowing old man, restrain your grief. Controlyourself, Mary, for yesterday each word you uttered pierced the heart ofthe poor Deodati like a dagger. It would be cruel and guilty in you tocause his tears to flow anew; at his age such affliction wears down thestrength and shortens life. "

"No, Petronilla, I will hide my feelings, and I will appear hopeful. I sawthat the old man was overpowered by anxiety and trouble. Trust me, Petronilla, and let me go; I must know from the Signor Deodati if he hasreceived any information. "

The duenna accompanied the young girl to the door of the room where Mr. Van de Werve and Signor Deodati were conversing together, but she let herenter alone. 

As soon as Mary's eye fell on the old man, and she read in his face thesorrow of his soul, she uttered a stifled cry of anguish. She cast herarms around his neck, and rested her head on his shoulder. 

The Signor Deodati, deeply moved, seated her by his side, and said, withtender compassion:

"My poor Mary, we have no tidings yet of our Geronimo. Are we not unhappy?Why did not God recall me to himself ere this? Did I leave Italy and comehither to drink the bitter dregs in my chalice of life? Could I weep likeyou, Mary, I might find some relief, but old age has dried up my tears. Alas! alas! where is my poor Geronimo, the child whom God gave me, toclose my eyes on the bed of death? I would give my fortune to save him, and the little that remains to me of life to know that he still lives. "

Tears filled Mr. Van de Werve's eyes as he contemplated his daughter andthe desolate old man; but he controlled his emotion, and said:

"Mary, I requested you to stay in your own apartment, because you cannotmoderate the expression of your sorrow. You have disregarded my desire. Iwillingly pardon you, my child; but if you wish to remain longer withSignor Deodati, you must exercise some self-control; otherwise I shallsend for your duenna to take you away. "

He then added, in a more gentle manner:

"Now, Mary, I beg, I supplicate you, comprehend the duty devolving uponyou. Be courageous, and do your best to console our unhappy friend. "

With a heroic effort Mary raised her head, and although still weeping, said:

"You are right, father. We grieve as though there were no room for hope;but--but--"

So great was the violence she was doing herself that she could scarcelydraw her breath; but conquering this emotion, she resumed:

"Ah! signor, we cannot know. God is so good, and Geronimo has so pure aheart!"

"God is indeed good, my child; but his designs are impenetrable. If Icould only imagine some probable cause to explain my nephew's absence. Butnothing--nothing!"

"The bailiff gave us, this morning, a reason for supposing that Geronimomay yet return to us unharmed. "

"You speak of the banker Liefmans, do you not, father?"

"Yes, my child. He disappeared suddenly. A fortnight had passed in uselessinquiry; his parents had the service for the dead offered for him, and hewas found alive and well in a cellar, where some robbers had imprisonedhim, in order by it to obtain a large sum of money. "

"And the same may happen, to Geronimo!" said Mary, with a confidence shedid not feel, in order to aid her father in his kind intentions. 

Signor Deodati shook his head incredulously. 

Mary took his hand tenderly, and said, cheerfully:

"We must hope, signor. Perhaps the Lord in his mercy will grant that ourfears may not be realized. Would we not for the remainder of our livesoffer our grateful prayers to heaven?"

"Yes, yes; during our whole lives. And I would go in my old age to OurLady of Loretto to express my boundless gratitude to the Madonna. Butsuppose he has fallen under the assassin's sword?"

Mary shuddered at the thought, but she interrupted the old man. 

"Signor, Geronimo possessed an amulet which had rested on the tomb of ourLord. He was convinced that it would preserve him from a violent death, and he always wore it around his neck. "

"I know the circumstances under which the amulet was given him, " repliedDeodati. "I myself had some faith in this talisman, because it was therecompense of a good action; but we have no proof that the woman who gaveit to Geronimo had any certain knowledge of its efficacy. However, Mary, we will still hope. Your sweet voice has mitigated my sorrow. May my poornephew be restored to me. The happiness I expected in my old age may yetbe a reality. You, Mary, --pure image of piety, goodness, and love, --youwill be my child! And when old Deodati will be called to leave this world, he will see you and Geronimo by his dying bed, like two angels, pointingout to his expiring goal the path to heaven. Oh! no, no; this would be toomuch happiness. My mind wanders. And yet, Mary, let us hope!"

The young girl was deeply moved by the picture of that happiness which shehad thought was lost to her forever. Her eyes were suffused with tears;her limbs trembled, and had not a stern look from her father reminded herof her duty, her oppressed heart would have found relief in sobs. 

Mr. Van de Werve thought it better to change the conversation, and said toDeodati:

"Let us not forget, signor, that we are men, and that it becomes us tobear up courageously under a painful suspense, and in a manner to which ayoung girl might be unequal. Have you heard nothing since the morning?Have you not seen Signor Turchi?"

"I spoke to Signor Turchi about an hour before 'Change, " said the oldgentleman, more calmly. "The good Turchi! he seemed even more dejectedthan we. Within the last five days, he has lost so much flesh that onewould scarcely recognize him. He does not give himself a moment's repose. From morning until night he is running about from place to place, seekingGeronimo as though he were a beloved brother. "

"Truly, " said Mary, "his is a generous heart. Poor Simon! I have sometimesbeen unjust to him; but it is in affliction that we learn who are our truefriends. For the rest of my life I will respect and esteem him. "

"He will meet me here, presently, " replied Deodati. "He may have someparticular communication to make to me, for he seemed to desire a privateconversation. The arrival of some merchants of his acquaintance preventedhim from speaking to me. I almost quarrelled with Signor Turchi. "

"Quarrelled!" said Mr. Van de Werve, in astonishment. 

"Yes; but it was to his praise, at least. He told me that it was hisintention to offer a large reward to the first person who would bringcertain tidings of Geronimo. "

"How grateful I am for his generous friendship!" said Mary. 

"Of course, " continued the old man, "I would not permit it. Whilstthanking him for his kindness, I told him that I would offer the rewardmyself. I left Signor Turchi in company with the merchants, and went tothe town-hall for the purpose; but when I arrived there, I found a decreeof the burgomaster already issued, promising three hundred florins for anyinformation of Geronimo. [21] I spoke with the bailiff at noon. He told methat, notwithstanding the most active search, no trace had yet beendiscovered of Bufferio's wife, nor of his companions. All of them musthave left the country immediately after the ruffian's death. But thisafternoon the bailiff expects to hear the result of several importantresearches ordered by him this morning. If he receives any communicationof consequence he will come himself to impart it to us. I hear the clockstrike five. Signor Turchi will soon be here. "

During this explanation Mary remained immovable--her eyes cast down. Shehad probably heard only confusedly what had just been said, for herthoughts were evidently far away. 

It was only when the servant threw open the door and announced SignorTurchi that the young girl, aroused from her reverie, rose hastily andwent eagerly to meet him, as though she expected him to be the bearer ofimportant news. 

Mr. Van de Werve and Deodati also met him at the door; Mary involuntarilytook both his hands in hers, and all three regarded him inquiringly. 

"Alas! my friends, I know nothing, " said Turchi, in a voice which seemedbut the echo of a bruised and broken heart. "All my efforts have provedunsuccessful. I have vowed before God to spare no expense or trouble inorder to discover what has become of my unfortunate friend; but so farimpenetrable darkness covers the terrible secret. What shall we do? Let ushope that the bailiff and his officers may be more fortunate than myself, who have only my anxiety and affection to guide me. "

The words of Simon Turchi effaced the last lingering hope from Mary'sheart, and she seated herself, exhausted from previous emotion. 

Turchi drew a chair beside her, regarded her with an expression ofprofound compassion, and said:

"My poor Mary, your affliction is intense! I know by my own sorrow howyour loving heart is suffering from this terrible suspense!"

The young girl lifted her eyes to his face, and she saw the tears runningdown his cheeks. Then she began to weep bitterly, and sobbing, she said:

"Thanks, thanks, Simon! I will beg Almighty God to recompense youraffection and generosity. "

Simon's countenance at this moment presented a singular appearance, fromthe remarkable contrast between the pallor of his cheeks and the deepscarlet which marked the margin of the scar on his face. The hypocritecould shed tears at pleasure and assume an expression of extreme sorrow, but the scar was not submissive to his will, and in spite of him itsdeepening red betrayed the wicked joy of his heart at the gentle andaffectionate words of the young girl. 

These words encouraged him to hope that he might fully attain the prizefor which he strove. He had, it is true, taken from his murdered friendthe proof of the debt of ten thousand crowns; true he had, as he supposed, buried all evidence of his crime in the subterranean vault; but this didnot satisfy him. In order to feel that he had received the price of thefrightful assassination, in order to remain rich, powerful, and honored, he required the hand of the beautiful Mary Van de Werve. He well knew thata long time must elapse before the consummation of his hopes; still, fromthe very day that he had committed the murder, he commenced to lay hisschemes, weigh his words, and so direct his plans that sooner or later hewould certainly take Geronimo's place in Mary's heart. He felt secure ofthe consent of the young girl's father. It was on this account that hefeigned excessive sorrow, and gazed upon Mary with tearful eyes, as thoughthe sight of her grief pierced him to the heart. 

He took Mary's hands in his, and said:

"Do not yield, to despair, Mary; all hope is not lost. Last night athought--a strange thought--occurred to my mind. And if I be correct, there are still well-founded reasons for expecting Geronimo's return. "

"Speak, Simon, " said Mary, anxiously. "Tell us this thought. "

Signor Turchi cast down his eyes in feigned embarrassment. 

"Impossible, Mary; it is a secret which I have no right to divulge. "

"Alas! is even this consolation refused me?" she exclaimed, despairingly. 

"This is unkind, Simon, " said Mr. Van de Werve. "Why do you cheer us upand awaken our curiosity only to cast us down by your silence? Give nonames; but at least give us some idea of the reasons we have for hope. "

Simon Turchi shrugged his shoulders. 

"Ah, signor, " said Deodati, reproachfully, "you are ungenerous. Thismorning before 'Change you were about to confide the secret to me, whenyou were interrupted by the approach of friends. Tell it to me now. "

Simon glanced expressively at Mary, as if to convey the idea that herpresence prevented him from complying with the old man's request. 

"Mary, " said Mr. Van de Werve, "I beg you to go to your room. Thesevarying emotions are more than you can bear; if I learn anything ofinterest, I will, my child, communicate it to you at once. "

The young girl rose without reply, but she glanced reproachfully at SimonTurchi. 

"Do not blame me, Mary, " he said; "I am deeply grieved to cause you pain;only rest assured that what I do is caused by affection for Geronimo andyourself. "

Without noticing this excuse the young girl obeyed her father, and slowlyleft the room. 

"Now, " said Mr. Van de Werve, "what is the secret you wish to impart tous?"

"I am greatly embarrassed, " replied Simon Turchi, shaking his headdoubtfully; "my intention was to speak only to Signor Deodati of theaffair; perhaps it would be indiscreet in me to reveal to you also, Mr. Van de Werve, a secret which, under different circumstances--"

"For the love of God, abandon these useless evasions!" said SignorDeodati, roused to a high pitch of excitement by his impatience. "Whyshould not Mr. Van de Werve know that which, in your opinion, would giveus a clue to my nephew?"

"Since I am forced to speak, " said Turchi, with a sigh, "approach andlisten. "

As soon as Deodati and Mr. Van de Werve had drawn their chairs nearer tohim, Simon said in an undertone, as if he feared his words might beoverheard:

"Have you not remarked, Mr. Van de Werve, that for some time past Geronimohas been disturbed and anxious; that even in the midst of cheerfulconversation he appeared absent-minded; in a word, that some great troubleseemed weighing upon him?"

"I have noticed it, " said Mr. Van de Werve. 

"And you, Signor Deodati?"

"I have also remarked it. But what do you infer from this?"

"About a month ago I interrogated Geronimo as to the cause of hismelancholy, and he informed me in confused, vague terms, that he had losta considerable sum at play_. "

"At play!" exclaimed Mr. Van de Werve, overpowered by astonishment. 

"Was Geronimo a gambler?" exclaimed Deodati, with ill-suppressedindignation. 

"It is the custom at Antwerp to play for money, and often for considerablesums of money, " continued Simon Turchi. "I never remarked that my friendGeronimo had a passion for play. However that may be, I could neverdiscover to whom he had lost the amount, nor would he tell me how much itwas. His melancholy and agitation were caused by the circumstance I havejust mentioned. He was tortured by the certainty that his uncle woulddiscover, upon examination, the loss of a large amount, which was notaccounted for on the books. I proposed to advance him the deficit, but heabsolutely refused, because he preferred to meet his uncle's just angerrather than deceive him. "

This revelation was stunning to the old Deodati. Nothing could have morekeenly wounded the honorable, high-toned nobleman than the thought thatGeronimo had been so dishonest and ungrateful as to use the funds of theestablishment in gambling. 

Trembling with emotion, he asked:

"You say the sum is considerable. What is the amount?"

"I have no idea, signor. Perhaps you might discover it by an examinationof the books. "

There was a short silence. Mr. Van de Werve's eyes were fixed upon theground. Signor Deodati passed his hand across his brow, and was absorbedin painful thoughts. 

Simon watched for a few moments, with an inquisitive eye, the effect ofthis revelation upon his two companions, trying to penetrate their verysouls. Then he said to Deodati:

"You look on the bad side of the affair, signor. If there were not abrighter, reverse side, I would have considered the confidence of myfriend sacred, and guarded his secret until death. Up to this time we allfeared, nay, considered it certain, that Geronimo had fallen under theassassin's steel. Now I begin to think that, in order to escape hisuncle's anger, he has left the city and country. "

"Impossible!" exclaimed Mr. Van de Werve. 

"Impossible?" repeated Turchi, "he would have gone ere this, had I notpersuaded him that he would obtain his uncle's pardon. Even on the day ofyour arrival, Signor Deodati, when Geronimo met me in the dock-yard on thebank of the Scheldt, he begged me to inquire for an English vessel whichwould leave on that or the next day, and secretly to engage his passage onboard. You may well know that I combated this foolish project, and I lefthim only when he promised me to abandon the idea. "

"Could he so lightly sacrifice my daughter's love?" said Mr. Van de Werve. "Were his expressions of affection for her only hypocrisy? No, no; nothingcan induce me to believe that. "

"His love was real, " replied Turchi, "and its very depth, perhaps, blindedhis judgment. He thought that the discovery of his losses at thegaming-table would inevitably deprive him of all hope of Mary's hand. Mypoor friend! he wished to fly from the fate which threatened him, that hemight not witness the affliction of his beloved uncle. "

No one replied to Simon's remarks, and he said, with hypocriticalsurprise:

"How sad you both are! You should rather rejoice at my revelation. Is itnot a happiness to think that Geronimo, although guilty of a fault, isstill alive, and not to be forced to believe that he is forever lost toour affection by a frightful death?"

Old Deodati arose and said:

"My friends, I must leave you; my mind is troubled; I am ill. Besides, Iwish to discover by the books the truth or falsity of Signor Turchi'sstatement. Do not attempt to detain me, I beg you. Adieu! May God guardyou!"

Simon Turchi prepared to accompany the old man; but whilst they werespeaking together the bailiff, Messire John Van Schoonhoven, suddenlyentered, and without the formality of a salutation, he exclaimed:

"Gentlemen, I have news!"

Turchi trembled and turned pale; but as the unexpected announcement of thebailiff had startled the others, his emotion was not attributed to terror. 

"For the love of God be calm, gentlemen, and do not anticipate too much. Ido not know what has become of the unfortunate Geronimo, but I have justcause to hope that we will soon find him--at least we have a clue. ' I havelearned, beyond doubt, that on the day of his disappearance, about fiveo'clock in the evening, he was seen beyond the Square of Meir. A monk fromthe Dominican Convent, who knows him well, saluted him and noticed thedirection he went. Acting upon this information, one of my mostintelligent subordinates has been tracing him. A banker saw him passthrough the quarter of the Jews. This is all I know at present, but thesefacts are sufficient to determine the direction of our researches, and mayperhaps lead to a fortunate issue. By early dawn to-morrow I will collectall the agents at my disposal; I will divide them into small bands, and Iwill order them to search every house, cellar, and garden in a certainpart of the city, and that in the most thorough manner, without leaving aspot unexamined. [22] I myself will superintend the work, and will visit inperson each hand of workmen to see that my commands are properlyexecuted. "

Simon Turchi had covered his face with his hands, in order to conceal histerror. 

Surprised by his emotion, the bailiff said:

"What have I said, Signor Turchi, to excite so much feeling?"

"Ah, you know not how much suffering you cause me, " replied Simon. "Ithought I was about to learn from your lips that my friend was safe, andwhat do you promise me if your search proves successful? Only his deadbody!"

"It is true, " said the bailiff. "It is no use to deceive you. My opinionis that he has been assassinated in some by-street near the hospitalgrounds, or in one of the dark alleys between the parishes of Saint Georgeand Saint Andrew. But I am determined to discover the truth. Dead oralive, I will find him, even if it be necessary to tear up the pavementsof all the cellars, and dig up all the gardens to the depth of ten feet. The whole city is in a state of excitement; the people complain of theauthorities of Antwerp as though we were accomplices in the crime. Thisaffair shall be brought to light, I pledge my honor and my name. "

"I thank you for your zeal and solicitude, " stammered Turchi. "May Goddirect your steps! How we will all bless you, if you restore Geronimoalive to us. "[23]

"I have little hope, little hope, signor; but all things are possible, "said the bailiff, shaking his head. 

Deodati took his hand, and said:

"Messire Van Schoonhoven, I am most grateful to you. Excuse me for theremaining longer in your honorable company; but I am indisposed, and Imust return home. May God protect you, signor. "

"And are you going also, Signor Turchi?" asked the bailiff. 

When Simon gave him to understand, by a glance of the eye, that he couldnot let the old man go alone, he took his hand affectionately, and said:

"I understand, signor; you are right. Adieu, until to-morrow. "

Turchi offered his arm to Deodati, and supported his tottering steps. Theytook leave of Mr. Van de Werve, who accompanied them to the door, andadmiring Simon Turchi's kindness, he followed them with his eyes as longas they were in sight. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

SIMON TURCHI TRIES TO CONCEAL HIS CRIME. 

After having accompanied Deodati to his residence, Simon Turchi went tohis own dwelling near the bridge _De la Vigne_. 

He was greatly excited, either by extreme anxiety or by a feverishimpatience; for he descended to the ground-floor, entered his office, pretended to be looking for some papers, went up stairs again, paced theroom, opened the window, looked up and down the street, closed the windowpetulantly, and at last, stamping his foot, he angrily exclaimed:

"The miserable gamester! he is in some tavern drinking, gambling, amusinghimself, while I am here on burning coals, almost overpowered by anxietyand terror! Julio, Julio, if I escape the fate which now threatens me, Iwill have my revenge for your ingratitude!"

Again he went to the window, and again he was disappointed. Thoroughlydiscouraged, he threw himself upon a chair, heaved a heavy sigh, and aftera moment's silence exclaimed in accents of despair:

"Alas! alas! is it then true that my crime cannot remain concealed? Whowas it, to my great misfortune, who sent the Dominican brother just to thespot to meet Geronimo, and thus furnished the bailiff with a clue to themurder? Who put the Jewish banker on his track, so that the constablesmight be led to my garden? Who suggested the idea to the bailiff to searchthe cellars? Was it chance? But chance is blind, and does not proceedwith such precision to the fulfilment of a purpose. How frightful if Godhimself conducted justice! if the Supreme Judge, who cannot be deceived, has condemned me to an infamous death! How vain then all hope, all effortto escape!"

Overpowered by these reflections, Simon Turchi bowed his head upon hisbreast; his hands worked convulsively, and at intervals heart-rendingsighs escaped him. 

Confusedly arose before him a horrible vision: he saw the scaffolderected; he beheld the sword of the executioner glitter in the sunlight;he heard the shouts of the populace calling down the vengeance of heavenupon his guilty head and devoting his name to eternal infamy; he seemed tofeel the mysterious stroke from the uplifted blade, for his frame shookviolently, and he uttered a piercing cry of anguish. 

He thrust his hand into his doublet, and drew from it slowly a small phialhalf filled with a yellow liquid, and held it before him with a shudder ofdisgust and horror. 

"Poison, deadly poison!" he muttered. "He who has the courage to take afew drops will sleep a sweet sleep from which there is no awakening. Andis this my only refuge from the ignominy of the scaffold? Instead ofwealth and happiness, is a miserable death to be the price of my crime?No, no; I must chase away these horrible thoughts. "

He replaced the phial in his doublet, and abandoned himself again to hisdark reflections; but at last he conquered, in a measure, his dejection, and he said, less despairingly but still sorrowfully:

"And yet everything was going on so smoothly! I had recovered my note; thepossession of the ten thousand crowns enabled me to conceal for thepresent the ruined condition of my affairs; Mary did not appearindifferent to me, and Geronimo being out of the way, I was certain ofsucceeding with her in the course of time. I would in that case becomerich and powerful; her dowry would be sufficient to save me from povertyand a humiliating discovery. Alas! why do the people accuse themagistrates of want of zeal? Things more surprising than thedisappearance of Geronimo have happened lately without any disturbanceamong the populace. It was the public feeling that forced the bailiff tomake extraordinary efforts to discover what had become of him; it will bethe cause of my destruction! Can there be a mysterious impulse to thisunwonted excitement of the multitude? Vainly then would I struggle toescape! Would it not be God himself pursuing me?"

The recurrence of this thought struck terror to the soul of Simon Turchi, and he buried his head in his hands. Suddenly he started up, and althoughhis lips twitched convulsively, he said, in a firm, strong voice:

"Ah! ah! fatality is a spur which inspires the most cowardly with coinage. Avaunt, foolish fears! I must struggle on to the end. The bailiff seeks acorpse; he pledges his honor to discover one. Let him find it! Suppose heshould find it elsewhere than in my summer-house? in a sewer, for example?Ah! anxiety had clouded my mind! Still, still, I have means for triumph!Oh, if Julio-would come! Could I only imagine in what tavern the rascal isgambling, I would send Bernardo for him. "

Saying these words, he approached the window and looked out. 

"There comes the loiterer! He walks as composedly as if nothing weighedupon his conscience! He cares not for the preservation of my honor and mylife; since the death of Geronimo he hates and despises me. I must appearangry and indignant, for should he suspect the fear and anxiety torturingmy soul, he would be insolent, and perhaps would laugh at my anguish. "

As Julio approached the house, Simon attracted his attention by loudtalking, and having succeeded in this, he made signs of his impatience andanger until Julio reached the door. He then closed the window, andassuming an expression of rage he turned to meet his servant. 

When Julio on entering saw his master standing with folded arms andmenacing countenance, a slight and ironical smile flitted across his face. 

"Wretch!" exclaimed Simon, "did I not order you to await me here afterChange? Look well to yourself, or I will avenge myself by your blood. Youlaugh! beware, or I will crush you like a worm!"

"Come, come, signor, why give way to such useless anger? It is not longsince Change. It is not my fault that you have been obliged to wait. "

"Have you not been going from tavern to tavern, gambling, as you have beendoing the last five days?"

"Yes, truly. I was intolerably thirsty; but if I was not here in time, youmust blame the clock of Notre Dame; it could not have struck right, I amsure. So be calm, signor: you know that your anger makes no impression onme. Make haste and tell me what you want me to do. We lose precious timein this nonsensical sort of talk. I left some friends to come and receiveyour orders, and I must add that I intend returning to them as soon as Ihave fulfilled your commands. You need not shake your fist at me, nor getinto a passion; it will do no good. "

The disrespectful language of his servant wounded and provoked Turchi; butperhaps seeing how useless it was to give expression to his feelings, hesuddenly changed his manner. Tears filled his eyes; grief was depictedupon his countenance, and seating himself, he sighed and said:

"Forgive me, Julio, for my harsh words; they were spoken in impatience. Itis too early yet for you to do what I wish, and I was wrong to complain ofyour long absence. "

The servant, surprised at his master's humble language, regarded himdistrustfully. 

"Is there any danger?" he demanded. 

Turchi took his hand, and said, piteously:

"Alas! Julio, my friend, to-morrow, in all probability, we will be cast, manacled, into a dungeon, there to await an infamous death. "

"Is it not your own fear, signor, which inspires such a thought?" askedJulio, trembling. 

"No; I have heard a terrible piece of news. Geronimo was seen in theQuarter of the Jews, and he was met going towards the Hospital Grounds. The bailiff has determined to search to-morrow morning all the cellars inthat vicinity, and even to dig the ground on the spot where my gardenlies. The police agents are to proceed at daybreak to the Hospitalmeadows, and as they cannot fail to remark that the earth has been newlyturned up, they will certainly discover what they seek. You pushedGeronimo into the arm-chair; you buried his body; consequently you willaccompany me to the scaffold, unless, in your capacity of servant, theymay choose to hang you or break you on the wheel. O Julio! does not thisinformation awaken you to a sense of our perilous condition?"

"From whom did you learn all that?" asked the affrighted servant. 

"From the bailiff himself. "

"From his own lips?"

"Yes, my friend, from his own lips. In spite of your courage and coolness, I think I may say that you have no stronger desire than myself to die bythe hand of the executioner. "

Julio put his hand to his throat and said, dejectedly:

"The affair looks serious. I seem to be strangling; I feel the rope aroundmy neck. It is all your fault, signor. Why did you murder your bestfriend? Did I not warn you that so frightful a crime would come to light?"

"Call it crime, if you will; but at least my just vengeance is satisfied, and now neither complaints nor recriminations can recall the past norshelter us from danger. "

"But, signor, what can we do to escape punishment?"

"There is a means, easy and certain. There is a means; but, Julio, itrequires good will and resolution. May I rely upon you for this lasteffort?"

"What would not one be willing to do in order to escape this gallows orthe wheel?"

"Then listen to me. I told you that the bailiff would search the cellars. If he finds the corpse in my house, we are both ruined. "

"Certainly, signor. "

"But suppose it be found in another place, far from this spot, who wouldsuspect us of the murder?"

"An excellent thought!" exclaimed Julio, joyfully. "We must carry the deadbody to a distant street and leave it there. "

"Not so. They would naturally suppose that it had been removed to thatspot from some other place. A better plan is to throw it into the sewer inthe Vleminck Field. The officers of justice will then conclude thatGeronimo fell under the hand of some unknown assassin. "

"That is still better! Ah! signor, you frightened me without cause. Iplace very little value on my life, and yet the thought of a certain deathshatters my nerves. Now I am myself again. But how shall we manage totransport Geronimo's body to the Vleminck Field?"

"It was for that purpose, Julio, that I was waiting so impatiently foryou, " said Simon Turchi; "it was because I needed your aid to execute aproject which will save us both. Nothing is easier. You will disinter thebody, and you will throw it into the sewer. "[24]

"Alone?" said the servant, in a tone which prognosticated a refusal. 

"Why not alone, since you are able to do it?"

"It is very easy, signor, for you to say: 'Take the body on your shouldersand traverse three or four streets. ' Signor Geronimo is heavier than yousuppose, and I doubt if by the exertion of all my strength I could carryit twenty steps. "

Simon Turchi took his servant's two hands in his, and said, supplicatingly:

"Julio, my friend, be generous; it is not a difficult task for one likeyourself. Reflect that it is our only means of safety; it is as much foryour interest as mine. I will recompense you largely, and I will begrateful to you all my life. "

"Well, signor, if you say so, I will try it; but I am afraid it will turnout badly. I shall be obliged to rest on the way, and that will take moretime than will be prudent. And then how shall I be able each time toreplace the body on my shoulders? It requires two to transport it withsufficient rapidity. "

"Two?" said Turchi, "You know well that we can confide our secret to noone. "

"To escape death, one would submit to anything. Suppose you help meyourself, signor?"

"I!" replied Turchi, shuddering, "I carry a dead body through the streets!I, a nobleman! No, no; better a dungeon and death!"

"What a strange sentiment of honor!" muttered the astonished servant. "Would to God, signor, that you had sooner remembered that you were anobleman, we would not thus be seeking, in mortal anguish, the means tosave our lives. Consider the affair as you will, you must confess that ifI carry the corpse alone, ten chances to one we shall be discovered. "

While the servant thus spoke, Turchi seemed preoccupied by torturingthoughts. After a moment he said, with a sigh:

"Alas! there is no other means; it is dangerous, but necessity demands it. Julio, go to the summer-house, and I will send Bernardo this evening tohelp you. "

"What" said Julio, ironically, "will you reveal your secret?"

"No; I will command him, under penalty of his life, to do whatever youorder him; threaten to stab him at the least show of resistance, and hewill obey you. "

"Impossible! Signor Bernardo is a good, pious man. He would inform uponus. I might as well put the halter around my neck. I will have none of hisaid. "

Simon Turchi, in despair at the failure of all his efforts to succeed inhis design, paced the floor impatiently. Suddenly he stopped before hisservant, and with sparkling eyes he said, in a suppressed voice:

"Julio, there must be an end to all this hesitation. We have no choice, and whatever may be the means, we must not deliberate in presence of thedeath which menaces us. Stab Bernardo, and throw him into the sewer abovethe body of Geronimo. "[25]

"Oh, signor, murder Bernardo!" exclaimed Julio, in horror. "And do yousuppose that he would not defend himself? that he would not give thealarm? In that case, your servant would be recognized, and thus they wouldput them on the track of the criminals. Your mind wanders. "

Grinding his teeth in his agony, Turchi tossed his arms convulsively, andat last said, hoarsely:

"You will not undertake it alone? You have not the wish to succeed. Cowardthat you are, for what are you fit but to boast and drink and gamble inthe taverns? Would that I had never seen you! Leave the corpse in thecellar; let the bailiff discover it there; we will see which of us willmeet the more courageously an infamous death!"

A prey to the keenest emotion, he fell back in his chair, and whileuttering bitter invectives against his servant, he tore his hair in realor feigned despair. 

The sight of-his master's desolation seemed to make some impression uponJulio; he regarded him compassionately, and at last said, kindly:

"Come, signor, calm yourself. All is not lost, and if my good-will cansave you, I will show you that Julio has the courage and resolution tocarry him through a difficult enterprise. Since you think I am able totake the corpse alone to the sewer, I will attempt it. Perhaps I mayoverrate the difficulties. Be calm, and rely upon my word. "

The signor knew that once having made up his mind, his servant wouldunhesitatingly execute what he had undertaken, and he comprehended by hismanner that his promise was seriously made. He pressed his hand, and said, joyfully:

"Thanks, Julio, I owe to you my honor and my life. I will never forget it, and when once the sword, now hanging over my head, is removed, I willreward you magnificently. Go now to the country-house, disinter the body, and carry it up to the ground-floor. This will give you less work later. Fill the grave thoroughly, and as far as possible destroy all appearanceof the earth having been recently dug. "

Julio apparently let his master's words fall unheeded on his ear; hesuddenly struck his forehead with his fist, as if an unwelcome idea hadforced itself upon him. 

"What is the matter?" asked Turchi, anxiously. 

"Fool that I am!" exclaimed Julio. 

"Speak lower, " said Simon. "What troubles you?"

"Did you not notice, signor, how bright it was last night? It is clearweather, and the moon is full! How could I carry a dead body to the sewerwith such light to betray me? It is impossible; I cannot think of it. "

These words forced from Simon a cry of anguish. He seemed crushed underthe fate which was visibly pursuing him. The cowardice and ill-will of hisservant had not cast him into despair like this last obstacle; for he wellknew that either by threats or promises of reward he could overcomeJulio's resistance; but what could prevent the moon from shining? It wasclear that no way remained of removing Geronimo's body from the cellar, and the officers of the law would infallibly discover where the murder hadbeen committed. 

It was then true that for him there was no escape from ruin; that amysterious power opposed all his plans; perhaps God himself wasinterposing to prevent him from saving his life. 

The supposition made him shudder; nevertheless he tortured his mind todiscover some plank of safety; a thousand tumultuous thoughts presentedthemselves. Might they not bury the body in a retired spot of the garden, plunge it in the basin of the fountain, or conceal it under the stones ofthe grotto? But none of these plans could be accomplished without leavingtraces which would lead to certain discovery. 

Suddenly a happy idea seemed to occur to him, for his face brightened; hearose and said:

"Julio, you must leave the country; it is your only means of safety. "

"I leave the country!" said Julio; "and you, signor?"

"Would that I could accompany you! but I cannot say as you can: 'Where mybody is, there is all I have and all I care for. ' I must of necessityremain here: I have many interests to detain me. "

Julio was astonished by the advice. 

"Where shall I go? In Italy a price is set upon my head; I dare not beseen beyond the mountains. It is too late for me to leave for England;there are no vessels ready to sail. What could I do in Germany, ignorantof the language of the country and without means of subsistence?"

"Save your life, Julio; go to Germany, " said Turchi. "I will give youmoney, plenty of money. "

The deep red of the scar on his master's face, his expression of cunning, his evident satisfaction, made Julio suspect some deception. He wasunable at first to imagine his secret design; but a light suddenly brokeupon his mind, and recoiling with horror and anger, he exclaimed:

"What an odious trap you are setting for me! You intend to accuse me ofthe murder in my absence? And while poor Julio, charged with a doublecrime, finds no resting-spot upon earth, you will enjoy here in entiresecurity, in the midst of wealth and honor, the price of the innocentblood which you have shed. No, no, I will bring no new anathema on myhead. "

"You are silly, Julio, " said Simon Turchi, disdainfully. "Should we bearrested to-morrow, and the truth known, would you not be equally punishedfor having treacherously pushed Geronimo into the chair?"

"Yes; but all would know that I neither conceived the crime, nor profitedby its commission. "

"A fine consolation, to contend on the scaffold!" said the signorironically, repressing his impatience. "But I will speak to you plainlyand without reserve. I will state my conditions; if you refuse them, thenall is at an end between us. Each of us is at liberty to save himself evenat the sacrifice of the other. The worst part of the whole is that I mightfeel myself obliged, for my own security, to make known to the authoritiesof Lucca who you are. "

The servant regarded his master with an expression of disgust andaversion. 

"These are my conditions, " said Simon. "You will leave immediately forGermany, and reach the Rhine as soon as possible. I will give you twohundred crowns. Procure a carriage and horse at the very first village, and do not stop until you are in a place of safety. To prevent anydetention on the way, I will give you a letter to Signor Mazzuchelli, abanker at Cologne. If on the journey you are asked why you have undertakenit, say that you are on urgent business for your master, and if necessityrequire it, show the letter; but once in Cologne, do not present theletter to Mazzuchelli. Two hundred crowns! that is a fortune, Julio. Withthat you can live luxuriously for two or three years. And what differencewill it make whether you know the language of the country or not. Moneyunderstands and speaks all languages. "[26]

"And when the two hundred crowns are spent, what will become of me?" saidthe servant. 

"I will not forsake you, Julio, " said Turchi. "Whenever you need money, inform me of it, and I will send you enough to keep you from want. But youmust change your name and simply notify me that you need money to continueyour business. And your new name? It seems to me that 'Marco Castagno'would answer. What say you?"

Julio shook his head doubtfully, muttering between his teeth. Although thepromise of two hundred crowns was seductive, he hesitated to accept hismaster's proposition. 

"Why deliberate so long?" said Simon. "I offer you a certain means ofescaping the gallows, and you hesitate! Moreover, I secure you a life ofease, independent, without cares, the free, joyous life of a lord, and yetyou refuse. "

Julio seemed to have come to a decision. 

"Will you give me two hundred crowns?" he demanded. 

"Two hundred crowns in coin. "

"Before my departure?"

"Immediately. "

"Give them to me. I am in a hurry to depart. "

"I will go for them, " said Turchi, leaving the room. 

Julio seated himself and rested his head upon his hands. But he had notlong for reflection; his master returned after a short absence. 

Simon Turchi held a purse in his hands. He went to the table and countedout four piles of gold pieces. 

The sight of so much money made an impression on Julio, and he approachedthe table. Joy sparkled in his eyes, and whilst he contemplated theshining pieces, he nodded his head with an air of satisfaction. 

"You see, " said Simon, "that the sum is correct, and you will not find thegold heavy to carry. Now put it in your doublet. Going down stairs Ireflected upon your good-will, and I considered whether I might not avoidaccusing you of the murder of Geronimo, and my friendship for yousuggested a means. Now that I am sure of being able, under anycircumstances, of exculpating myself, it is not necessary for me to bringany accusation against you. Besides, Julio, I dislike to be separated fromyou. If in two or three months I could bring you back without danger, Iwould be delighted. "

"I would be well pleased, signor, " said Julio, with a sigh. 

"In order to secure this chance to ourselves, Julio, you must, beforeleaving, go to the country-house, level, as far as possible, the earth inthe cellar, throw sand and dust upon the grave, and then fill the cellarwith fire-wood and empty casks. "

"But, signor, that would take time. "

"That is of no consequence. At this hour there are too many people passingthrough the city gates. It is better for you to pass the night at thepavilion, and to-morrow morning, as soon as the gates are open, you willleave. At daybreak you will be certain of meeting no one who would noticewhat direction you had taken. I suggest this for your own sake, Julio, notmine; for suppose the officers of the law should search my summer-house, those precautions would divert their attentions from the cellar, whileotherwise they would infallibly discover that the earth had been recentlydug. Perhaps, through respect for me, the bailiff may exempt my lands fromsearch. In either case I will wait until the impression made by the murderhas worn away. I will say nothing of you, except that you left me inconsequence of a sharp rebuke, and that I do not know what has become ofyou. As soon as the present excitement subsides and the search isabandoned, I promise to recall you. Now will you go to the pavilion andaccomplish faithfully what I advise?"

"I will. "

"Do not forget your new name. "

"Marco Castagno? It is easily remembered. "

"Yes; Marco Castagno, and you are travelling on business. I had nearlyforgotten the letter of recommendation. Wait here an instant; do not comedown-stairs. I will write it at once. "

When Julio was left alone he put his hand in his pocket, chinked the goldcoins, and drew out a handful for the pleasure of contemplating them; buthe soon returned the money to his doublet, and fell into deep thought. 

"If, " he muttered, "I could only set off at once! Here I am obliged topass a whole night in that accursed pavilion! The signor thinks thatGeronimo has been buried for five days, and his corpse is still aboveground. To fill up the grave is not much. Suppose I let that alone, andleave this evening with the money? No, no; I will execute faithfully whatI promised. My master is so generous to me, I will show him that I am notungrateful. "

"Here is the letter of recommendation, " said Simon Turchi, entering theroom. "It is in the name of Marco Castagno. Forget your other names, andbe prudent, remembering that the least indiscretion might cost our lives. Go to the pavilion, Julio. I bid you adieu, with the hope of soon seeingyou again at Antwerp. "

"Shall I not take my clothes, signor, or a traveling cloak?"

"No; the cloak you have on will suffice. Were you seen with any baggage, your intention might be suspected. Appear indifferent. You can buywhatever you may need. "

The servant extended his hand to his master, and going to the door, said:

"Adieu, signor; if you do not refuse to aid me when I am in want, I willkeep your secret faithfully. "

"Do your work in the cellar carefully, Julio. I wish you a pleasantjourney. "

Julio descended the staircase and walked slowly down the street. 

His master opened the window and watched him until he was out of sight. 

Simon Turchi drew a long breath, as though the weight of a mountain hadbeen removed from his heart. A smile lighted up his face, and he said inan accent of intense joy:

"He has gone! Now I have nothing to fear. The bailiff may find the body;Julio committed the crime; I know nothing of it; I am as innocent as alamb. Ah! I thought I was lost. Now I must arrange my plans as though Iwere certain of the discovery of the body. I feel new strength; hope andcertainty animate my heart. Mary, Mary, your name, your fortune, your lovewill be mine. My life will yet be crowned with grandeur, wealth, andhappiness. "

And in feverish excitement he closed the window. 

CHAPTER IX. 

GERONIMO RESURRECTED. 

The clock in the steeple of Saint George struck seven, and night wascoming on, when Julio opened the garden-gate of his master's country-seatand walked with a light step towards the house. 

He kept one hand wrapped in his cloak, as if to conceal some object; theother was in his pocket, turning over the gold pieces given him by SimonTurchi. Joy sparkled in his eyes, as he said to himself:

"God be praised! I resisted the temptation. They urged me to drink andplay at the 'Swan, ' but my gold coins reminded me that I had a seriousduty to perform. After work comes the recompense. What I hold in my handwill indemnify me for the thirst I have suffered and for the time lost. Itis the very best Spanish wine--as dear as if it were melted silver, and asstrong as if it were liquid fire. "

On entering a room in the house, he drew two bottles from his doublet andone from under his cloak, placed them upon the table, and looked at themlongingly. 

"No, no, not now; presently! Business first. Your bewitching smile cannotseduce me. Patience, my friends; an hour hence we will become acquainted. To fill up a grave and roll some empty casks into the cellar is a smallmatter. But it is getting so dark that I can no longer distinguish theimage of the emperor on the gold pieces; I must light the lamp. "

Taking a wooden box from the mantelpiece, he drew out a flint and struckit. It was some time before the tinder took fire, and Julio laughed at hisown failures; but at last he succeeded in his efforts, and a large lampmade the whole room bright with its rays. 

Julio approached the table and said:

"Now at least I can gratify the desire which has irritated my nervesduring the last hour. To possess two hundred crowns, to be as rich as abanker, to feel my pockets weighed down by gold, and still unable to feastmy eyes on the treasure! Now I am alone; there is no one to ask whence itcame. The time has arrived. I may enjoy my wealth without anxiety!"

He drew an arm-chair to the table, reclined in it comfortably, withextended limbs, and placed the gold coin by handfuls under the light ofthe lamp. 

After searching his pocket and doublet and convincing himself that all thecrowns were spread out before him, he heaped them up and ran his handsthrough them as if to enjoy the sparkle and jingle of the gold. He heldhis breath, for fear of losing the least sound; with eyes wide open hecontemplated the brilliant treasure. 

For a long time Julio remained, with a smile of happiness upon his lips, in mute admiration, and, perhaps scarcely aware of what he was doing, heranged the crowns in a line and counted them; then he separated them intopiles of twenty pieces each; then he tossed them from hand to hand, until, wearied of this amusement, he looked at them musingly. At last heexclaimed in a joyous outbreak:

"Two hundred crowns! What will I do with them? How will I spend them?Shall I drink Malmsey, Muscatel, the very best, such as brings pleasure tothe heart? But at that rate I shall soon see the end of my money. Shall Iplay for florins and crowns? That would be an excellent means, certainly, of either becoming a hundred times richer or of losing every farthing. Strange! how fearful and avaricious money makes me! I do not even care toplay; no, I will not do it. I will dress like a nobleman: in satin, velvet, and silk; I will drink and eat of the most exquisite dishes; Iwill Jive in luxury and abundance, as though the world were a terrestrialparadise. Ah, what a glorious life!

"But what a cowardly wretch I am! My only anxiety is to know how to spendor rather squander this treasure, and at this moment there lives, far fromme, one who perhaps is stretching out her hand to me to beg an alms! Mypoor mother! she may even need bread. Were she to curse her ungratefulson, would he not have deserved it a hundred times? I am afraid of myself!With ten crowns, with the twentieth part of what I am going to throw awayin dissipation, she might be saved from misery for more than a year. Whydid I not give twenty crowns to my master to send to her? Suppose I returnto the factory to execute this good thought? Impossible! Signor Turchiwould be enraged; besides, I have no confidence in him. I will inquire, when in Germany, if she still lives, and if she be in want I will send hermoney. "

He took up twenty crowns, one by one, from the table, counted them, regarded them wistfully, and said, as he dropped them into his pocket:

"Twenty crowns! that is a large sum; but it may make my blind old motherhappy. I will put her portion by itself. "

His eye again rested on the glittering coin. The sight appeared to dejecthim. 

"How visibly it has diminished!" he said, sighing. "I believed my treasureinexhaustible, and by one thought the twentieth part has disappeared. Willit not go as fast in Germany? Will not gambling and drinking deprive me ofthe whole in a few months and leave me in misery? What sombre thoughts! Amoment ago, and everything wore a smiling aspect; now, my mind is torturedby fear and anxiety. But why need I be troubled? When I have spent the twohundred crowns, Signor Turchi will send me more. But it is not well torely too much upon that; his head may fall under the axe of theexecutioner. In that case I would be as badly off myself. The discoverywould drive me from Germany into Netherlands or Italy. Instead of livingin luxury, I would infallibly fall into the lion's jaw, and the gallows orthe wheel would be my well-merited fate. But if the murderer of Geronimobe not discovered, I can return quietly, and my master would receive mekindly for fear I would betray his secret. That depends in a great measureupon my care in acquitting myself of the task entrusted to me. I willaccomplish it loyally and well. The sight of this gold no longer gives mepleasure. A full cup of wine first, and then to work bravely!"

He uncorked one of the bottles and half emptied it; then muttering a fewwords as to the strength and energy imparted by the liquor, he took thelamp, and fixing his eye on the bottle, said:

"It will take me only a few minutes to throw the body into the grave andfill it up; but the rest of the work will require more than an hour. Thatis a long time to be separated from you, is it not? To keep me company, Iwill take the half-empty bottle; that will not hinder me from doing myduty properly; on the contrary, it will give me courage and strength. Nowto work!"

He re-corked the bottle, put it inside of his doublet, took the lamp, andslowly descended the staircase. 

The passage leading to the cellar in which Julio had thrown Geronimo'sbody was rather long, and he had time to feel the effect of the wine, andit so raised his spirits that he commenced jesting about hid past anxiety, and on nearing the cellar he sang the first notes of a joyful song. 

But the words expired upon his lips, he trembled in every limb, and turnedashy pale. 

A voice answered him from the cellar. 

Immovable from terror, Julio fixed his eyes upon the door, and strove tocomprehend the words which fell indistinctly upon his ear. 

"Heavens!" he exclaimed, "it is Geronimo; he lives!"

Shuddering, he withdrew a short distance down the passage, and was for atime as motionless as a statue. At last, with deep emotion, he said:

"What can this mean? The signor said at the first thrust his dagger metmetal, but that the wound in his neck was deep. Suppose it were merely aflesh-wound? What shall I do? Shall I let him live?"

He was painfully undecided. 

"Impossible!" he said. "It would be the death-warrant of both my masterand myself. I must choose between his death and ours. Implacable fatalityurges me on--in truth, I have no choice. One blow, and all is over! I mustnot hesitate; my knife is sharp. "

He drew his dagger from its scabbard, examined the blade, tried it withhis finger. He shuddered, and a cry of horror escaped him. 

"Fatal position!" he exclaimed. "To kill a man in cold blood! an innocentman! What harm has poor Geronimo ever done me? Stab him! My heart failsme--I cannot perpetrate such a cruelty. And yet, and yet I must! The crimehorrifies me, but I have no alternative. Only by the sacrifice of his lifecan my master escape the scaffold, and I the gallows. Fate irresistiblypursues me; I am the slave of necessity--I must follow whither it leads!"

With staggering step and in a blind frenzy, Julio ran down the passage, caught his dagger between his teeth, put the key in the lock, and turnedthe light so that it might fall upon his victim. 

He stopped trembling in the middle of the cellar, and pity filled his soulas his eye rested on Geronimo. He had indeed drawn his dagger to completethe horrible crime; but now, touched and moved by compassion, heconsidered the unfortunate young man, who extended to him his supplianthands and begged for help. 

Geronimo was kneeling on the side of the grave which had been dug toreceive his corpse. His face was partly covered with clotted blood; theportion visible was excessively pale, and his cheeks were so sunken thatthose few days of suffering had left only the skin to cover his bones. Hiseyes, rolling wildly, were sunk in their sockets; his neck, weakened bythe wound, could not support his head, which fell upon his right shoulder. His clothes were blood-stained and covered with dirt. It was evident thatin his struggle against death he had dragged himself around the tomb totry, if possible, to escape it. 

"Whoever you may be, " cried out Geronimo, "for the love of God, one dropof water!"

His voice was weak, but capable of moving the hardest heart. 

Julio shook his head, without speaking. 

"Water! water!" repeated the young man. "I am burning up, consumed bythirst. Water! water! one drop of water! Save me from a frightful death!"

Moved by pity and forgetting, as it were, his own situation, Julio thrusthis hand under his doublet, drew out the bottle, uncorked it, and withoutspeaking gave it to the wounded gentleman. He uttered a cry of joy, seizedthe bottle with feverish energy, and kissed with transport the hand whichpresented him the saving beverage. 

Julio, with palpitating heart, watched the unfortunate Geronimo, as withtrembling joy he placed the bottle to his lips, as if the contents wereimparting to him a new life. 

And indeed, after having quaffed a deep draught, Geronimo appeared to havenew strength; for a sweet smile appeared upon his face, his eyes sparkledwith gratitude, and lifting his hands to Julio, he said:

"May God bless you! you have saved me from a frightful death. May Heavenhear my prayer and reward you on the day of judgment for all the good Imay have done in my life. The light blinded me; I could not see. Are younot Julio?"

This recognition struck Geronimo with terror, and in a feeble anddiscouraged voice he said:

"Julio, Julio, you pushed me into the chair!"

Then seeing the dagger in Julio's hands, he shuddered. 

"A dagger in your hand! Ah! you come to kill me?"

"Yes, signor, " replied Julio, sadly, "I come to take your life; but do notsuppose I fulfil this fatal mission without emotion; on the contrary, myheart bleeds for you, and I feel an indescribable repugnance to deal thefatal blow. "

"Ah! you are not merciless; you will have pity on me, " said Geronimo. 

"Impossible!" replied Julio. "Fatality governs us both; it has irrevocablycondemned you to death, and me to inhumanity. All prayer, all supplicationis useless; nothing can save your life. I beg you, signor, not to increasethe difficulties of my task; accept with resignation a fate you cannotescape. "

A sharp cry escaped Geronimo, as these unfeeling words convinced him thatall hope was lost. 

"My God!" he exclaimed, "is it then true that this dungeon is to become mytomb? Must I die without confession? Shall my body lie in unconsecratedground? Oh, mercy! mercy!"

"Necessity is a merciless law, signor, " replied Julio, "and I have morecause than you to complain of its harshness. You, at least, will receivein heaven the recompense of your innocent life, while I must commit here acrime from which I recoil with horror, but which is forced upon me by anirresistible power, and for which my poor soul will stand accused beforethe judgment-seat of God. But do not cherish a deceitful hope; there is nohope for you. Before I depart from here, that grave must receive yourbody. That I did not immediately on entering fulfil my sad mission ispartly owing to the fact that an uncontrollable compassion paralyzed myarm, but still more, to my desire to afford you time to say some prayers. Therefore prepare your soul for its last passage. I will wait patientlyeven for a quarter of an hour. Pray with a tranquil mind--I will notstrike without giving notice. "

Saying these words, Julio put down the lamp replaced his dagger in itsscabbard, and seated himself on a block of wood which was in a corner ofthe cellar. 

Geronimo, overwhelmed by Julio's insensibility, bowed his head upon hisbreast. For some time he neither spoke nor moved, seeming to accept hisfate with complete resignation. But the terror of death again possessedhim. 

"Impossible!" he exclaimed. "You will not kill me, Julio? I conjure you, by your soul's salvation, not to imbrue your hands in my blood!"

And the unfortunate young man endeavored to drag his feeble body toJulio's feet; but the latter drew his dagger in a threatening manner. 

Geronimo uttered a cry of despair, crawled back to the side of the grave, and fell exhausted on the ground, where he bewept his sad fate. 

His stifled sobs were so heart-breaking that Julio's soul was stirredwithin him, and without being conscious of it, he wiped away the tearswhich fell from his eyes. 

In a voice full of compassion he said:

"Come, signor, be calm, and submit with resignation to the irrevocabledecree of fate. When one has lived like you in the fear of God, honorablyand loyally, death is but the passage to a better life. "

A cry of indignation mingled with the convulsive sobs of the younggentleman. 

"I understand you, " said Julio; "you think that my pity is a cruel irony;you believe me to be inhuman. Even in the tomb you might justly call downmaledictions on the head of the murderer who of his own will and choicewould deprive you of life. But, alas! signor, I have neither will norchoice in the matter. To-morrow the officers of justice will search thishouse and cellar. "

"To-morrow!" exclaimed Geronimo, a new hope-springing up in his heart. 

"If I let you live, they would infallibly find you here, " pursued Julio. "This hope inspires you with joy; vain hope! signor, for should it berealized, my master would perish on the scaffold, and I would expiate mycrime on the gallows!"

"Julio, " said Geronimo, beseechingly, "I will remove all suspicion fromyou; I will declare you innocent; I will reward you magnificently. "

"It would be useless, signor. The law knows no mercy. My master wouldbetray the part I had in the deed; and do you think the judges wouldpardon me for having pushed you into the chair?"

"Save me, spare my life, Julio; and if necessary for your acquittal, Iwill kneel to the bailiff, I will appeal to the emperor himself. "

"There is another reason, unknown to you, signor, " replied Julio, bitterly. "I am a fugitive, condemned to death by the laws of Italy. Mymaster alone knows my real name. The least infidelity on my part wouldmake him deliver me into the hands of those who for five years have beenseeking me. Think you, then, that it is in my power to spare you? It is myown and my master's death you demand. And what a death! For him, the axeof the executioner and eternal infamy to his family; for me, the rack, thewheel, the gallows. Do not blame me then, signor; do not contend againstimplacable fate; employ your last moments in prayer, or tell me that youare ready to receive the mortal blow. Nothing can save you; that open tombtells you a sad but pitiless truth. Again I beg you, signor, lift up yourheart to God, and do not force me to make use of sudden violence. "

"Die so young and guiltless!" lamented Geronimo. "Never again to see thelight of heaven! O Mary, my beloved! how you will deplore my fate! My pooruncle! sorrow will bring your gray hairs to the grave!"

The accents of despair made Julio shudder; but he said, in a cold manner:

"Are you ready, signor?"

"A moment more, one moment for prayer!" said Geronimo. 

He joined his hands and uttered a fervent prayer; but although heapparently accepted his fate with resignation, it was equally evident thathis soul struggled against the death which was hanging over him. 

By degrees, however, prayer brought resignation and consolation toGeronimo, for the nervous trembling of his limbs ceased and his voicebecame more distinct and calm. 

Julio fixed his eyes on Geronimo, and his heart was touched when hethought he heard him ask pardon of God for his enemies; but when the lipsof the young man pronounced his own name in ardent supplication, and hedistinctly heard his unfortunate victim praying for the soul of hismurderer, Julio dropped his knife, and said, with a deep sigh:

"My courage has forsaken me! I have not the strength to accomplish thiscruel act. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Geronimo, as Julio pronounced these words, "it is a voicefrom heaven speaking to your heart. Hearken to it. Have pity on me! sparemy life!"

Julio was too absorbed in his own thoughts to heed Geronimo. In accents ofdespair he muttered:

"Frightful situation! Beside the very grave I have dug for him, he praysfor my soul! And can I shed his blood? But there is no help for it. Imust--I must!"

The young gentleman remarked the struggle in Julio's soul, and he musteredup all his strength to approach him; but Julio, seeing Geronimo's design, picked up his knife, took the lamp, and left the cellar, saying:

"It is useless, signor. Fate is more powerful than we are; and struggle aswe may against its inevitable decrees, they must be accomplished! Thesight of your sorrow has deprived me of all courage. I go to regainstrength. I will soon return. Be prepared, for this time I will actwithout delay!"

He closed the door and walked slowly down the passage. Having reached hisroom, he stamped with anger, uttered desperate words, struck his foreheadwith his fist, vented his impatience, because he could see no solution ofhis difficulties. He paced the room like a madman, fought the air, stopped, resumed his walk, --until exhausted he threw himself into a chair. Sorrow, anguish, and rage, by turns were depicted on his countenance. Helamented the necessity of the murder, and complained in bitter terms ofhis sad fate. But in vain he tortured his brain--not a ray of light cameto illumine his darkness. The pitiless "I must do it!" was the invariablerefrain. 

By chance his eye fell upon the two bottles which he had placed upon thetable, and as if the sight had inspired him with a sudden resolution, heseized one of the bottles, uncorked it, and putting it to his lips, dranka long draught, stopped a moment for breath, then emptied the bottle. 

He remained some time immovable as if to test the influence of the wine onhis mind, swallowed half of the second bottle, drew his dagger, took thelamp, and descended the stairs, saying:

"Now my courage will not fail me! No more words: a single blow and allwill be over! I must strike him in the back; he wears a cuirass on hisbreast. "

Opening the door of the cellar, he placed the lamp on the ground withoutspeaking, and raising his dagger, he walked directly towards Geronimo, wholifted his hands imploringly. 

Within a few steps of his victim, Julio, with an exclamation of surprise, stopped suddenly as if immovable. His eye fell upon an object whichGeronimo held in his hand and extended to him, as though it had power toturn aside the mortal blow. 

It was a flat copper medal, in the centre of which was a cross and otheremblems, and attached to it was a bright steel chain. 

Julio, forgetful of what he was about to do, sprang forward, seized thestrange medal, examined it closely, and said, in astonishment:

"This amulet in your hands, signor! What does it mean? How came you byit?"

Geronimo, whose every thought was fixed upon death, was too much startledby the sudden transition to reply immediately. 

"Speak, tell me whence comes this amulet? Who gave it to you?"

"From Africa--from a blind woman, " answered Geronimo, almostunintelligibly. 

"In Africa? And the woman's name?" said Julio, beside himself withimpatience. 

"Mostajo. Teresa Mostajo!"

"Teresa Mostajo! You are then the liberator of my poor blind mother!"

"Then you will spare my life! God of mercy, I thank thee, there is stillhope!"

But Julio heeded not the words of the young man. 

"This amulet, " he said, "recalls my native village. I see again my father, mother, friends. I see myself as I was before dissipation led me to sinand vice. This amulet, brought by my grandfather from Jerusalem, protectedmy father against many dangers, saved my mother's life; and you, signor, you owe to the same amulet escape from a violent death, for it turnedaside my master's dagger from your breast. Strange and mysterious powerwhich thus shields the victim from his executioner!"

"Julio, " said Geronimo, "keep me not in suspense. Say that you will nottake my life. Be merciful to the man whose name is blessed by the lips ofyour mother!"

"Fear not, signor; rather than shed one drop of your blood, I would paythe penalty of my guilty life on the gallows. But I must reflect upon ourpeculiar situation, for my mind is not clear; perhaps I may discover ameans of escape. Do not disturb me, I beg you. "

He withdrew to the corner of the cellar where he had been previouslyseated, and remained motionless for some time, without giving any sign ofthe agitation of his mind. 

Geronimo regarded him at first with a look of joyful anticipation; bydegrees, however, his face wore an expression of sadness and surprise; itseemed to him that Julio had fallen asleep. He was mistaken, however, forJulio arose after a while, and said:

"Now I see my way clearly. I will save you, signor; but in doing that, Imight as well avoid securing a halter for myself. You must have patienceuntil to-morrow. It is now about nine o'clock in the evening, and thetime, I know, will be very long to you. But you must submit to a conditionwhich is necessary for the preservation of my own life. To-morrow, atdaybreak, I shall quit the city and country. Before leaving, I will setyou at liberty. Do not attempt to shake my resolution; let me go now, signor, and expect with confidence your deliverance. "

Geronimo joined his hands, and said, feebly:

"Thanks, thanks, and may the good God show you the mercy you have shown tome! I have yet a favor to implore, a benefit to ask. "

"Speak, signor, what do you wish?"

"It is long since I awoke from my death-like stupor. I know not how long, and I am tormented by hunger and thirst; you have kept life in me by thewine so kindly bestowed, but now my body demands nourishment. Give mebread. "

"Bread!" said Julio, "there is not a mouthful of food in the house. "

But seeing Geronimo's eyes fixed in supplication upon him, he added:

"It is not late; perhaps I may find some shop still open. I will returnpresently; remain quiet, and have no anxiety, signor. "

He took the lamp, left the cellar, closing the door after him, andascended to his room. There folding his arms, he began to muse:

"How strange! the young merchant who, at the risk of his own life, defended my mother from her Moslem master, who paid her ransom, andliberated her from slavery--that merchant was Geronimo! By some mysteriousinfluence the amulet protected his heart from the blade of his vindictiveenemy; and when I am about to shed his blood, behold, the amulet paralyzesmy arm. It is incomprehensible!"

The current of his thoughts changed. Seizing the half empty bottle, hedrank its contents. 

"Strange, " said he, "how the bad effects of liquor are controlled by theemotions! I have taken enough to deprive me of consciousness, and I feelmy mind as clear as though I had not touched a drop. This last draught, however, has mounted to my brain. So it is decreed that my master, SimonTurchi, must die upon the scaffold? It is disagreeable for both of us, butI could not help it. I shall not know what to do when the two hundredcrowns are spent; necessity will force me to seek other resources, even atthe risk of the gallows, and in all probability the fatal noose willencircle my neck. Bah! if it is predestined, who can prevent it? My masterand I will receive only what we deserve. But I am forgetting the starvingyoung gentleman; I must go out to procure him some food. It will be a fineopportunity to drink a pint of wine at the _Swan_; that cannot be closedyet, for gamblers do not keep early hours. Only one pint in passing! notmore, for if my reason became clouded, I cannot answer for theconsequences; but there is no need to fear that, for my life is at stake. I will return in half an hour. "

He extinguished the lamp, and hastily traversed the garden. 

CHAPTER X. 

SIMON TURCHI'S ALARM--CRIME BEGETS CRIME. 

Some time after the hour of Change, Simon Turchi had returned home, andwas apparently preparing to go out again, for he had changed his doubletfor one of a darker color, and his cloak lay on a chair beside him. 

The signor was in high spirits; he carried his head proudly, a radiantsmile illumined his countenance, and from time to time he rubbed his handswith an air of triumph. Julio had left for Germany! Nothing could haveprevented his departure, for he had not been seen in the city. SimonTurchi has therefore no cause for fear, for if, contrary to expectation, his garden be searched and the corpse of Geronimo be discovered, themurder could easily be fastened upon Julio. 

Already, by vague remarks to his servants and acquaintances, Turchi hadprepared the way for making the accusation in case of necessity. He hadexhibited great anxiety at Julio's absence the night before and duringthat day. He said that he had sharply reproved his servant for hisdissipated habits and his neglect of duty. Julio had left him in evidentanger. 

The servants, who could not comprehend their master's anxiety, thoughtthat he might be in some tavern, drowning his feelings with drink andawaiting the night to return home. To this Turchi answered that he hadremarked for some time Julio's strange manner, that he seemed soabsent-minded, was often heard to sigh and weep--in a word, somethingweighty appeared pressing on his conscience. 

Early in the morning he sent Bernardo to the pavilion to see if Julio werethere. Bernardo reported that there was no evidence of his having beenthere, except two empty bottles upon a table. Simon pretended that he hadthe bottles placed in the room, and Bernardo thought no more of theaffair. 

Simon Turchi would have satisfied himself by personal examination if Juliohad thoroughly performed his work before his departure, but he feared toexcite attention by his appearance in that direction; or, perhaps, hemight even be obliged to assist at the search of his garden, should thebailiff refuse to exempt it. He determined to go to the cellar atnightfall, when the search must be interrupted, to examine thearrangements made by Julio. When therefore twilight was commencing toreplace the glare of day, and Simon was certain of not meeting theofficers of the law, he threw his cloak around his shoulders, turned witha light step and joyous heart the corner of the street, and took thedirection to the square of Meir. 

He had gone but a short distance, when he met Messire John VanSchoonhoven. 

A smile lighted up Turchi's countenance. He was delighted to beaccidentally brought into the bailiff's company, as he would thus learnthe result of the researches already made. 

After a polite salutation, Messire Van Schoonhoven said:

"I am happy to meet you. I was on my way to your house. "

"To my house?" said Turchi. "Have you news of my friend?"

"No, signor; I wish to see you concerning an affair which, although notserious, necessitates a conversation with you. I would have spoken to youon this subject this evening when at Mr. Van de Werve's, but the place wasinappropriate to such discussions. "

"Return then with me, " stammered Turchi, with ill-disguised anxiety. 

"Where were you going, signor?" said the bailiff. 

"I was going to take a walk along the Scheldt, in order to seek somediversion to the grief I feel for the disappearance of the unfortunateGeronimo. "

"What I have to say, signor, need not interfere with your walk. I willaccompany you a part of the way and enjoy with you the evening breeze. "

The bailiff turned and walked by Turchi's side. 

Looking around, to assure himself that they were not overheard, MessireVan Schoonhoven said:

"The affair in question would not require so many precautions were I notbailiff and you my friend. But in consequence of these two reasons, mymission becomes painful, and I must claim in advance your forbearance. Youknow that my agents are searching every house, building, and garden in thevicinity of the Hospital Grounds where Geronimo was last seen. Thegreatest part of this quarter has been carefully examined without anyresult. "

Simon Turchi perfectly understood the bailiff's design, and although hisheart beat painfully, he mastered his emotion, and said in an indifferenttone:

"And you think, Messire Van Schoonhoven, that my garden should be searchedin like manner? It is very natural. No one is above the law--the knightand the peasant are there equal. "

"Believe me, signor, that the thought of so disrespectful a conducttowards an honorable nobleman, and that nobleman my friend for years, would never have occurred to me. But the search became a necessity withoutany fault of mine. The presence of at least twenty of my agents in thatquarter attracted the curious. A crowd followed those engaged in thesearch, and when it was noticed that your summer-house was the only oneexempted, the magistrates were openly accused of injustice. The peoplewere told that this was done by my order; but so great was the commotionthat the affair reached the ears of the burgomaster and the constables, and these gentlemen waited on me, urging me to visit your garden likewise, so as to remove all cause of complaint. "

"This explanation is wholly unnecessary, at least as far as regardsmyself, " interrupted Simon Turchi. "I desire you to search mycountry-house as you do all the other dwellings in the vicinity. "

They were not far from the bridge of Meir, and they ceased speaking, as inso frequented a place they were in danger of being overheard. Farther on, Turchi said:

"I acknowledge, however, that I am hurt and irritated by the disrespectand audacity of the populace. One might be tempted to suppose that theyconsidered me capable of killing my best friend! My blood boils at theidea of such a suspicion!"

Simon gladly availed himself of the opportunity thus offered ofattributing to a just indignation the cruel anxiety which tortured him. Hehad anticipated the announcement just made him by the bailiff, and inconsequence had taken suitable measures to screen himself in case ofdiscovery; but now a terrible doubt as to the result of the search, and asto the confidence which might be reposed in his statements, arose in hismind. The least unforeseen accident, the slightest oversight in hisarrangement, might be his ruin. 

"It is scandalous!" he exclaimed, shaking his fist. "To express publiclythe opinion that a nobleman could so far degrade himself as to become asecret assassin! I will know who my insolent calumniators are, and I willthen see if justice has power at Antwerp to protect an innocent strangeragainst the defamation of the people!"

"Calm yourself, signor, " said Messire Van Schoonhoven; "I comprehend yourwell-founded indignation; but you are mistaken if you think theperquisition ordered by the burgomaster and constables be, in your regard, aught but a condescension to the clamors of the multitude. As for myself, I beg you not to be displeased with me for accomplishing my duty. "

"You need offer no excuse, messire, " said Simon, speaking more calmly. "Itis but proper and natural to search my garden. I am irritated solely bythe insolence of the people. Do your duty, and continue to honor me with afriendship of which I am proud, and of which I will always strive to beworthy. "

"When will it be convenient to you, Signor Turchi, to have the officersvisit your house?" asked the bailiff. 

"The time is perfectly indifferent to me. "

"But appoint an hour; I would regret causing you any inconvenience ortrouble. "

Simon Turchi reflected a moment, and said:

"To-morrow morning urgent affairs demand my attention; come then aboutnoon. "

"Suppose we say two o'clock?"

"Very well; between two and three. "

"I will call for you to accompany me, signor. Do not be disturbed by thisdomiciliary visit; it implies no suspicion, but, as I said before, it is asimple condescension to the populace. Shall I have the honor of meetingyou this evening at the house of Mr. Van de Werve?"

"I do not know, messire. Mary's excessive grief affects me so much that ithaunts me day and night. Would that I could offer the least consolation tothe afflicted young girl! But of what use is it to mingle my tears withhers, when there is no ray of hope to illumine the darkness of herdespair?"

Messire Van Schoonhoven pressed Simon's hand. 

"Your sincere friendship for Geronimo does you honor, signor, " he said. "Were he your own brother, you could not be more deeply grieved. And howgreat is your generosity! Geronimo was your friend, but he was at the sametime an obstacle to the accomplishment of the dearest wish of your heart. Through affection for him you have sacrificed your fondest hopes ofhappiness. But the inexplicable disappearance of Geronimo spreads outbefore you a brighter future. Time will alleviate the bitterness of Mary'ssorrow, and who so well as yourself, signor, could restore her tohappiness--you who possess her father's confidence and esteem?"

"Speak not of such things, " said Simon. "I would gladly yield all thehappiness the future might have in store for me to see my friend once moreunharmed. But alas! alas!"

"That does not prevent me, signor, from cherishing the hope that, ifGeronimo is really dead, you may one day receive the reward of yoursincere friendship and your magnanimous generosity. To-morrow at twoo'clock! May God be with you, signor!"

"And may He protect you, messire!"

Simon Turchi watched him until he was lost to sight, and then glancedaround in order to note the degree of darkness. He drew his cloak closelyaround him, and walked rapidly down a side street, which soon brought himbefore the gate of his own garden. Unlocking the door, he traversed thewalk rendered almost invisible by the darkness. 

Beaching the house, he lighted a lamp and ascended the stairs to a room, which, in better times, he was accustomed to use as a bed-room, whenoccasionally he passed the night at the pavilion. 

Casting his cloak upon a chair, he seated himself near a table, evidentlya prey to distracting thoughts. He drew a phial from his doublet, andfixed his eyes upon it. By degrees, however, the clouds seemed to passfrom his mind. He replaced the phial in his doublet, and said, calmly:

"Why am I so terrified? Did I not expect the search? Have not myprecautions been well taken? What have I to fear? Julio is already atsuch a distance that he cannot be overtaken. If the corpse be found in thecellar, I will impute the crime to Julio. My explanation will be such thatthere will be no room for suspicion. But suppose it should be known! Otorturing doubt! What a desperate game! Wealth, honor, power, and the handof Mary Van de Werve, against my life and the honor of my family! Triumphand happiness on the one hand; disgrace and death on the scaffold on theother! Suppose I go to the bailiff, and accuse Julio of the murder? Thatwould put me above suspicion. But no; the search will be superficial, merematter of form for the sake of appearances. If Julio as arranged thingsproperly, they will merely cast a glance into the cellar. My presence willbe a restraint upon the officers, and will prevent them from pushing theirsearch so far as to imply a suspicion. If they do not find the body, as isprobable, the affair will forever remain secret, and I will have in futureno cause for alarm. I must take courage and descend into the cellar, tosee how Julio performed the task assigned him before his departure. "

He approached a large wardrobe, took from it a bottle, poured out a largeglass of wine and drank it. Lighted by the lamp, he descended thestaircase and approached the cellar; but before proceeding through thesubterranean passage, he hesitated and stepped back:

"Singular!" he said; "I am overpowered by fear! I recoil in terror beforethat dark cave, as though the dead could arise from the grave to takerevenge. What! I had the courage to stab him while living, and yet Itremble upon approaching the spot where lie his inanimate remains! Awaywith this childish terror!"

However bold his words, the Signor Turchi did not become calm, and hisheart beat violently as he again slowly approached the entrance to thecellar. He hesitated an instant, as he looked down the long, dark passage, but was about to proceed, when a noise outside the building made him shakewith fear. 

"What can it be? Am I not mistaken? Some one unlocks the garden-gate! WillI be found here? Am I betrayed?"

After a moment of torturing doubt he fled from the cellar to his room, hishair bristling with terror. 

"They open the door of the house! They are within! They come! Greatheavens! What can it mean?"

A man appeared on the threshold of the room in which Simon Turchi hadtaken refuge. 

"Julio! it is Julio!" exclaimed Simon, in despair. 

The servant reeled under the influence of liquor. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes wandering, and while the smile upon his lips indicated adisagreeable surprise at the presence of his master, it also said plainlythat he feared not Simon's anger. He held in his hand a small wheatenloaf, but he hid it hastily under his doublet as if unwilling for Turchito see it. 

Casting upon him a look of fury, Simon Turchi sprang to his feet, clenchedhis fist, and exclaimed in a rage:

"This is too much! Infamous traitor! cowardly rascal! whence do you come?Does hell itself bring you here for the destruction of both of us? Speak, base drunkard, and tell me why you are here! Quick, or I will stretch youdead at my feet. I thirst for your blood. "

Julio drew his knife from the scabbard and stammered, in a voiceindistinct from intoxication:

"Wait awhile, signor. Wine, good wine has dulled my senses. You want tokill me? It would be very fortunate for one of us to die here--theexecutioner would have less work. But which of us must first render ouraccount before the supreme tribunal, my knife and your dagger will decide. I am ready. "

"Insolent wretch!" cried Turchi, grinding his teeth, "my own safety andyours compel me to a painful circumspection; but beware how you brave me!Tell me why you are not on your way to Germany. "

"You ask me something that I don't know myself. But let me see. Just as Iwas about to leave I went to the _Swan_, and drank a few pints of wine. This morning, when I awoke, I was seated before a table at the _SilverDice_. How I came there, I cannot tell. It was then too late for me topass the gate. I determined to wait until to-morrow, and I came here totake a night's rest before setting out on the journey. "

"And you played at dice?" said Turchi. 

"I think I did; for the rattling of the dice still sounds in my ears. "

"And the money? the two hundred crowns?"

"Be quiet, signor, on that point. I ask you for nothing. What business isit of yours that I have spent or lost a few pieces of gold, provided Ileave for Germany to-morrow at daybreak?"

Simon Turchi was like one frenzied. 

"Yes, " he exclaimed, "and at the first tavern you meet on the way you willdrown your senses with drink, and you will squander my money. "

"Not so, signor; rely upon me--I will leave to-morrow morning at daybreak, and if I drink on the way it will only be to quench a burning thirst. "

Simon Turchi's eye shone with a sudden and mysterious light, excited bysome secret thought. He became calm, and shrugging his shoulders, saidquietly, as though he submitted with resignation to the contradictionswhich he could not avoid:

"I ought, Julio, to punish your want of fidelity. If the bailiff had comehere to-day, as I expected, your culpable neglect of duty would haveplaced us both in the hands of justice. Fortunately the visit will not bemade before noon to-morrow. As your negligence has had no evilconsequences, I fully pardon you, upon condition that you leave the citybefore sunrise, and that you travel without stopping until you reach theRhine. "

"Never fear this time, signor, " replied Julio. "I will pass the nighthere, and at early dawn I will be beyond the city gate. In the firstvillage I will buy a horse, and I will make such speed that he who wouldcatch me must needs have wings. "

He yawned, stretching his arms above his head, and said:

"I am overpowered by fatigue and sleep. If you have no other directions togive, permit me, signor, to go to bed, that I may be ready for themorning. "

"Then I may rely upon you, Julio?"

"Have no anxiety about my journey; the rising sun will not find me atAntwerp. "

"Are you certain?"

"As certain as I am that a halter hangs over my head, and over yourssomething quite as disagreeable. "

This jest of his servant made Turchi convulsively contract his lips, buthe restrained any expression of feeling, and arose, saying:

"Julio, would you like a glass of good Malmsey?"

"Ah, signor, " replied the servant, "I was just thinking that a cup ofMalmsey would relieve my parched throat, when, lo! my desire finds an echoin your heart. "

"One single glass--a parting bumper. "

"One or many, signor, as you wish--either will be welcome; but theexcellent wine locked in the cupboard of your room will be particularlyacceptable. "

"Well, Julio, come with me, and we will drink to the happy termination ofyour journey. "

He arose, traversed a passage, and ascended to the upper story. Theservant followed him staggering, and trying to steady himself by the wall. 

Having reached his bed-room, Turchi drew a second chair to the table, andsaid:

"Sit down, Julio; here is a bottle already opened. If I did not fear itseffects, we would empty it in honor of your departure. "

Julio sat down, and held the bottle before the lamp. 

"Bah!" he exclaimed, "it only contains about four glasses. You need nottrouble yourself about that quantity. "

Signor Turchi took two large glasses from the cupboard, placed them on thetable, and filled their to the brim. 

"A pleasant journey to you, Julio, " he said, "and may you arrive safely atyour destination. "

They both emptied their glasses at one draught, but the servant pushed hisglass to his master, saying:

"Oh, the divine liquor! it is a cooling balm to my burning throat. Onemore glass, signor, I beg you. "

Simon filled the glasses again, and said:

"Yes, but on condition that you wait awhile before drinking it. "

Hoping that his obedience might procure him a third glass, Julio resistedthe temptation to gratify himself at once. 

In the meantime, Turchi contemplated his servant with a peculiarexpression. There was a malicious sparkle in his eye, and a smile oftriumph on his lips. He evidently had some purpose in thus watching Julio;but what could be his secret design?

At last he pretended that he was about to take the wine, but by a quickmovement he upset it. 

With an exclamation of impatience he raised the glass, and said:

"It is a sin to spill such wine. Now I have no more in which to drink yourhealth. Get another bottle, Julio, from the cupboard; it is perhaps thelast time that we shall drink together. On the third shelf, the bottlewith the long neck. "

Julio arose with difficulty from his chair, and staggered to the cupboard. 

Simon Turchi thrust his hand in his doublet, and drew out a very smallphial. He hastily poured nearly the whole contents into Julio's glass, andimmediately concealed the phial; and although he trembled in every limb, he said, calmly:

"A little higher, Julio--to the left; that is the right bottle. "

The servant brought the bottle to his master, who uncorked it; but as hewas about to pour out the wine, he said:

"Empty your glass, Julio; this is a different wine, and the mixture wouldspoil both. "

Julio drank the wine, but no sooner had he swallowed it than he exclaimed:

"What was in my glass? It had a strange, bitter taste. Did you put poisonin it?"

"What a silly idea!" said Turchi, turning pale. 

"You are capable of such a deed, signor. "

"The lees gave the bad taste, Julio. Take another glass, and it will passaway. "

Emptying his glass again, Julio said:

"You are right; it is gone. I never tasted anything in my life moredisagreeable. "

Turchi watched his servant narrowly. With assumed carelessness he said:

"Take care, Julio, to be up by daybreak. Go on foot to the village ofLierre; buy a good horse there, and make all possible haste to reachDiest; that is the shortest route, and you will be more likely to escapenotice than on the highway. Once in Cologne, you are out of danger; but becareful not to remain there. Merchants from Antwerp frequently visit thatcity; you might possibly be recognized and arrested. You must leave theterritories of the emperor. When the affair is forgotten, and when by mymarriage with Miss Van de Werve I will have acquired a considerablefortune, I will send for you, and you will live with me as a friend ratherthan a servant. You shall spend your days in pleasure, and you will neverhave cause to regret what you have done for me. But, Julio, you do notanswer? Is not such a fate desirable?"

"I am overpowered by sleep, " stammered Julio, almost unintelligibly. 

A triumphant smile flitted across Turchi's face. 

"To-morrow at two o'clock, " he continued, "the officers of justice willmake a domiciliary visit here, but the bailiff will permit no search whichintimates a suspicion. Since you have filled the cellar with fire-wood andempty casks, the bailiff will be satisfied that all is right. Perhaps, Julio, I may be able to recall you in two or three months. "

Julio's head had fallen upon the table, but from time to time he startedand muttered some indistinct words, showing that he was not in a deepsleep. Without once removing his eye from him, Simon continued to speak, although he was convinced that Julio no longer heard his words. 

Suddenly Julio groaned. His head and limbs fell as though he had beenstruck by death; but the heaving of the chest and the deep scarlet of thecheeks proved that he was in a heavy sleep. 

Simon quietly contemplated him for a while longer with a smile ofsatisfaction. Then he arose, approached his servant, shook him violently, and cried out:

"Julio, Julio, wake up!"

Julio did not stir. 

"It succeeds according to my wishes, " he said. "The poison is doing itswork. He is deaf and insensible; he reposes in an eternal sleep. Life willbe extinguished by degrees until sleep makes way for death. But I must nottarry. I must act quickly and forget nothing. And first the money!"

He searched Julio's pocket, and found in it one hundred and twenty crowns. After counting them on the table, he exclaimed:

"Eighty crowns spent already! It is impossible. He has either lost them atthe gaming-table, or been robbed while he was sleeping in the tavern. "

Still doubtful, he examined his garments, and found in a purse under hisgirdle the twenty crowns which he had destined for his mother. 

"Ah, ah!" said Simon, laughing; "I had not all; I hear the sound of gold. "

He put the twenty crowns with the rest of the money, and having satisfiedhimself that no more remained on the person of Julio, he was about totransfer the crowns to his pocket, when a sudden idea occurred to hismind. 

"If I leave all this money on his person, they might think he had beenpaid to commit the deed; if I leave nothing, there will be no reason toconclude that he killed the Signor Geronimo to rob him. I wonder how muchmoney Geronimo generally carried about him. I should suppose five or sixcrowns, or perhaps ten. I will leave six crowns and all the small change. And the keys? He must keep them, or, of course, he could not have enteredwithout my knowledge. But should he be roused to consciousness by thedeath-agony, he might have sufficient strength to get out. I will leavehim all the keys but that of the outer building. Iron bars render theplace secure; he could not even enter the garden. Now I will put the phialin his doublet--no, in the pocket of his girdle; it will be as easilyfound. I will remove the bottles and everything which could indicate thepresence of two persons. "

He locked up the bottles and glasses, arranged the chairs, and wiped upthe wine which had been spilled on the table and the floor. 

While thus engaged, he muttered to himself:

"I must not remain longer. I myself must go to the bailiff and accuseJulio of the murder. Shall I go this evening? No; they might come and findhim alive, and a powerful antidote might perhaps rouse him from sleep. To-morrow, then--to-morrow morning. But how shall I explain the affair?When and how did he reveal his crime? Night will suggest a means. All isdone. I will go home and appear calm and cheerful. "

He threw his cloak around his shoulders, took the lamp from the table, andwalked to the door. There he stopped for a moment to contemplate hisvictim and precipitately descended the staircase. At the foot of the stepshe extinguished the light, traversed the garden, opened the gate, anddisappeared in the darkness. 

CHAPTER XI. 

FOOD AT LAST--DEATH OF JULIO. 

When Julio left the cellar for the purpose of procuring bread, Geronimocast himself on his knees, full of gratitude to God, to return thanks forthe unexpected deliverance. 

Julio had said "soon, " but an hour passed, then another, then many more, and he came not. 

A painful doubt began to take possession of Geronimo's mind. Had anaccident happened to Julio? Had he perhaps cruelly abandoned his victim?Had he set out for Germany with the certainty that hunger would kill himwhom the dagger had spared?

The unfortunate cavalier had no means of measuring the flight of time. What in the immutable darkness of his prison seemed to him a century, might in reality be only a few hours, and the promised bread would soonappear to his eyes as the star of safety--in a quarter of an hour, in aminute--that very instant. 

By such reflections Geronimo sought to endure patiently the pangs ofhunger. He put his ear to the keyhole and ceased breathing that he mightcatch the slightest sound. Alas! hour after hour passed in unbrokensilence. Although Geronimo knew not whether it was day or night, hisincreasing sufferings were to him a sure indication of the passage oftime. For a while he encouraged himself by the thought that Julio wouldnot bring him the promised bread until dawn, and that he would give him atthe same time food and liberty. 

This hope by degrees diminished, and at last vanished entirely. Thesuffering young man could not longer deceive either his body or his mind;it became evident to him that the hour which he had hoped would restorehim to freedom had long passed. 

He had been abandoned--devoted to a cruel martyrdom, a frightful death! Hewas then to die in the midst of the torments of hunger--to die slowly inindescribable suffering, and fall into the yawning grave prepared for him!

Struck with terror by the conviction thus forced upon him, the unfortunatecavalier arose despairingly and ran panting and crying around the cellar, as though he could thus escape the death which menaced him. 

The pain of his wounds was increased by this violent and feverishagitation. His breast heaved under his difficult respiration, but thegnawing hunger which agonized him made these sufferings seem light. Falling to the ground from exhaustion, he commenced, as soon as he hadgained a little strength, his struggle against the tortures of hungry. Attimes his despair was cheered by the thought that even yet Julio mightcome. But Julio was plunged by the influence of poison into a mortalsleep, and in all probability would appear before Geronimo at thejudgment-seat of God. 

Hoping against hope, the young man seated himself on the ground. Theviolence of his sufferings seemed to abate and leave him at rest for a fewmoments. His thoughts wandered to all he loved upon earth, but the respitewas of short duration. Soon the agony he endured drew from him piercingcries. During his long martyrdom no torment had equalled the present. Itseemed as though he were being devoured by flames, or as if molten leadwere coursing through his veins. 

He writhed in convulsions, beat his breast, and in heart-rending accentscalled upon God for help. But nothing relieved his horrible sufferings. 

He filled the air with his groans and screams, he beat the door with blindfury, tore the flesh from his fingers in his useless efforts to make anopening in his prison-walls, and ran from side to side as though the pangsof hunger had driven him mad. 

At last, exhausted and convinced that there was no escape, that he mustsoon enter into his last agony, he threw himself upon the ground, bowedhis head and joined his hands in prayer, begging for resignation to meetthe death which would end his cruel martyrdom. His mind now appearedclear, and he was perfectly conscious, for after a while he shed a torrentof tears. His lips moved, giving utterance to confused sounds, but bydegrees his words became more distinct, and fixing his eye in the darknesson the spot where he knew the grave had been dug, he said:

"No more hope! All is over. I must die! The grave yawns to receive me. Alas! what a place for my mortal remains! Forgotten, unknown, concealed bythe darkness of a horrible crime! Not a tear will fall upon the tomb ofthe unfortunate victim; not a cross will mark the spot where I lie; not aprayer will be whispered over my body! Death approaches. Ah! I must notthus cling to life; I will pray and lift my hands in supplication to God. He alone--"

He stopped under the influence of a sudden emotion. 

"Heavens! did I not hear a noise?"

He listened breathlessly for a time to catch the indistinct sound hethought he had heard; but he was mistaken. 

"Why should I hope, when hope is no longer possible? Let me rather seekstrength in the consideration of the better life which awaits me. Thedeath I endure will purify me from all my sins. If God, in Hisimpenetrable designs, has appointed this to be my earthly fate, He will, in His mercy, take into account before his judgment-seat what I haveinnocently suffered here below. Consoling hope, which, encourages me tolook with confidence into eternity!

"And yet my life was so happy! Everything in the world smiled upon me; mypath was strewn with roses; the future spread out before me like acloudless sky resplendent with stars. God had not only given me health, fortune, and peace of heart, but also the hope of uniting my fate withthat of a lovely young girl. Mary Van de Werve! the incarnation of allthat men admire and heaven loves: virtue, piety, modesty, charity, beauty, love! Alas! alas! must I leave all that? Must I say a last adieu, renouncemy hopes, and never see her again? Die and sleep forever in an unknowntomb, while she lives!"

A cry of anguish escaped him. But it was caused rather by his train ofthought than by the adieu he had just spoken, for he added, in a suppliantvoice:

"Pardon, O Lord, pardon! Thy creature clings to life; but be not angrywith the weakness of my nature. Should I die by the terrible death ofstarvation, I humbly accept Thy holy will, and I bless Thy hand whichdeals the blow! God of mercy, grant that I may find grace with Thee!"

Calmed by this invocation, he resumed, with less emotion and in a tonewhich proved that his soul had received consolation:

"And if I be permitted in my last hour to offer to Thee my supplications, I pray Thee, O God of mercy, to spare my uncle, and let not my misfortunedeprive him also of life. He was my father and benefactor; he taught me tolive in the fear of Thy holy name. By the cruel sufferings which I endure, by my terrible death, have pity on him! Let Thy angels also guard andprotect the pious and pure young girl who is before Thee as an immaculatedove! Jesus, Saviour of mankind, on the cross you prayed to your heavenlyFather for those who crucified Thee. Demand not an account of my bloodfrom my enemy. Pardon him, lead him back to the path of virtue, and afterdeath grant him eternal rest! My strength fails; the sweat of death is onmy brow. O my God! in this, my last hour, grant me the grace to die withThy love alone in my heart, and Thy holy name alone upon my lips!"

The last words of this prayer had scarcely fallen from his lips, when hecried aloud, arose trembling, and eagerly fixed his eyes upon the oppositewall, upon which a faint streak of light flickered. 

"O my God! what means this?" he exclaimed. "Light? light? a voice? Is someone coming? Is there still hope? I shall not die! Cruel dream! Frightfulillusion! But no, it is indeed a light; it becomes brighter. I hear ahuman voice. Alas! this suspense is worse than death!"

Tottering from weakness, and supporting himself by the sides of the wall, he gained the door, and trembling between hope and fear, he put his eye tothe keyhole in order to discover who was approaching his person. 

He saw in the distance a man with a lamp in his hand; but his gestureswere so strange, and his countenance so singular, that he was at a loss toknow whether it were a human being, or only a creation of his owndisordered brain. 

Still he heard confused sounds in the passage; a voice seemed to complain, curse, and call for aid. 

By degrees the mysterious apparition drew nearer, and Geronimo recognizedthe servant of Simon Turchi; but why was Julio writhing in such horribleconvulsions? Why was his face so horribly contorted? Why did he threatenand rage in such harsh accents?

A horrible conviction forced itself upon Geronimo's mind. Julio had soughtin drink the courage necessary to accomplish the work which fate exactedof him. He had thus drowned his senses, and had come now to slay hisvictim without mercy. 

The thought for the moment roused his fears; but he remembered that he hadjust offered to God his life in expiation of his sins. He retired to theother side of the cellar, knelt by the side of the grave, and with a smileupon his lips and his eyes lifted to heaven, he calmly awaited the fatalblow. 

He heard Julio trying to insert the key in the lock as if his hand wereunsteady. He noticed that there was no finger in his tone of voice; on thecontrary, the cries which escaped him were rather those of alarm anddistress; but before he had time for reflection the door opened. 

Julio put down the lamp as if his strength had entirely failed him, andfell upon the ground, exclaiming in a supplicating voice:

"O signor, help, help! I am poisoned! A burning fire consumes me! Takepity on me! For the love of God, deliver me from this torture!"

"Poisoned!" exclaimed Geronimo, hastening to Julio. "What has happened toyou? The mark of death is on your face!"

"Simon Turchi gave me last night poisoned wine, in order to destroy thewitness who could prove your death by his hand. He made me pay Bufferio toassassinate you. He wishes to marry Mary Van de Werve, and he desires toremove any cause of fear that his happiness may be disturbed. Ah! thepoison consumes me!"

"Tell me, Julio, what I can do for your relief. "

Saying this, he knelt by Julio, and threw open his doublet to give himair:

"Thanks, thanks, O my God! here is bread!" exclaimed Geronimo, almost wildwith joy, and snatching with feverish haste the small loaf which Julio hadconcealed, and which he had entirely forgotten since his fatal stupor. 

The young man, absorbed in satisfying his devouring hunger, no longerheeded Julio's complaints, but having soon appeased its cravings, he tookhis hands, saying:

"I bless you, Julio, and may the omnipotent God reward you in heaven. Tellme what I can do to save you. Set me at liberty, and I will fly forphysician and priest. The keys--quick, the keys!"

"Alas!" said Julio, in a hopeless voice, "my cruel murderer took from methe keys of the door. We are shut up in the building. But I cannot diethus, consumed by poison, without confession, without hope of pardon formy soul! Go up-stairs, signor, call aloud, break open the door, wrest theiron bars from the windows. Collect all your strength, take pity on me andhelp me!"

Geronimo seized the keys, and, lighted by the lamp, he hastily traversedthe subterranean passage, and mounted the staircase. 

The gray dawn was appearing in the east, but to the eyes of the young manso long accustomed to utter darkness it was almost as bright as noonday. 

Convinced that Julio's condition demanded immediate aid, Geronimo hastilytried all the keys in the exterior door, pulled all the bolts, endeavoredto wrench the door from the hinges, and worked with so much energy that atlast he fell from weakness. 

Taking a short rest, he arose, threw up the windows, shook the iron bars, ran up-stairs and called aloud for help. But all his efforts wereuseless--the pavilion was too far removed from any habitation to permithim to indulge the hope that his voice, weak as it was, could be heard. 

In running through the building--almost maddened by despair--to seek anoutlet, he entered the kitchen, where he perceived a vessel full of water. The sight filled him with joy. Perhaps water, taken in large quantities, might deaden the effects of the poison and save Julio's life. At any rate, he had no other remedy, and as it was his only hope, he grasped at it asif it were an inspiration from heaven. 

Filling a pitcher, he ran with it to the cellar, and radiant with joy, approached Julio, who had barely strength to ask in a feeble voice:

"Is the priest coming? Will the doctor be here? Ah! it is too late!"

"Drink, " said Geronimo, holding the pitcher to his lips; "the water willcool the inflammation and refresh you. "

Julio took the water. 

"Thank you, signor; it is useless, the water does me no good. "

"Take more, I beg you, Julio, --as much as you can. "

Julio obeyed mechanically and nearly emptied the pitcher. His respirationbecame very labored, and the sweat ran in big drops from his brow. 

"Do you feel better, Julio?" asked the young man. 

"A little better; the heat is not so burning. "

"There is still hope!" exclaimed Geronimo, joyfully. "Take courage, Julio;have confidence in the mercy of God. When all human aid fails us, then Godgives his omnipotent assistance. "

"But, " said Julio, "my heart beats so feebly, my limbs are benumbed. Signor, I am dying. The poison is killing me. "

"Die? Julio! You have delivered me from death, and shall I be powerless tosave you? What shall I do? O my God, what can I try?"

"Think no more of it, signor, " said the dying man. "I feel that there isno hope. Alas! I was partly the cause of your bitter sufferings: I pushedyou into the chair; I intended to kill you, the deliverer of my blindmother! Take pity on me! Let not your just malediction follow my poor soulinto eternity. Pardon me, signor, pardon!"

"Speak not thus, Julio. But for you, that yawning grave would now cover mycorpse. Shall I refuse pardon to you who spared my life? No; I will prayfor you, I will give alms for the repose of your soul. Have confidence inthe goodness of God. "

"Confidence?" said Julio, in a dying voice. "I shudder to think of thejudgment which awaits me. In this, my death agony, I see with frightfulclearness. I dare not hope in God's mercy. I have done nothing to meritit. A dark veil is before my eyes. "

The death-rattle was in his throat. 

Geronimo passed his arm around his neck and raised his head, and seeingJulio's eyes fixed upon him, he said, tenderly and fervently:

"Julio, listen to me! You say you dare not hope in the mercy of God' Haveyou forgotten that Jesus Christ shed his blood to redeem fallen man? Doyou not know that there is joy before the angels when a sinner, by sincererepentance, escapes the eternal enemy of man and enters triumphant intoheaven? You repent, do you not? You sincerely repent?"

Julio bowed affirmatively. 

"Ah!" exclaimed Geronimo, "if I cannot save your body from death, at leastlet me keep your soul from eternal torments. Oh! if I could thus repay thedebt of gratitude I owe you! Julio, were God to prolong your life, wouldyou renounce evil and return courageously and sincerely to the path ofduty and virtue? You say yes? You implore God's mercy, do you not? Youhave confidence in the inexhaustible treasure of his goodness? Then, Julio, raise your dying eyes to heaven, direct your last thoughts to Himwho is the source of all mercy, and with full confidence let your soulwing its flight to the supreme tribunal. Already from the highest heavenGod absolves the repentant sinner!"

A triumphant hope illumined the countenance of Julio as he endeavored toraise his eyes to heaven. 

"Saved--his soul is saved!" exclaimed Geronimo, transported with a piousjoy. 

A slight convulsion passed over the limbs of Julio, his muscles becameparalyzed, his head fell heavily on Geronimo's shoulder, and drawing hislast breath, he murmured, almost unintelligibly:

"Mercy! O my God!"

"He is dead!" said Geronimo. "May thy soul receive my fraternal embrace inits passage to eternity! May this mark of reconciliation weigh in thebalance of eternal justice!"

He bent over the dead; but as if contact with the corpse had deprived himof his little remaining strength, he fell as it were lifeless. Not a limbmoved, his arms dropped motionless, his eyes closed, it seemed that hissoul had also taken its flight to heaven to accompany the soul of Juliobefore God's judgment seat. 

CHAPTER XII. 

IS IT HIS GHOST?--THE GUILTY EXPOSED. 

It was scarcely eight o'clock in the morning when Signor Deodati was onhis way to the residence of Mr. Van de Werve. 

The old merchant was walking very slowly, with his eyes cast down. Fromtime to time he shook his head, as if disturbed by painful thoughts. Hiscountenance expressed dissatisfaction rather than sorrow; indeed, it mighteven be said to indicate angry and bitter feelings. 

The servant who opened the door ushered him into a parlor and went to callhis master. Deodati threw himself into a chair, covered his face with hishands, and was so absorbed in thought that he was not aware of Mr. Van deWerve's entrance. 

"Good morning, signor, " said the Flemish noble, saluting him. "Your earlyvisit encourages me to hope that you have news of our poor Geronimo. "

"Bad news, Mr. Van de Werve, bad news, " said the old man, with tearfuleyes. "Sit down near me, for I have not power to raise my voice. "

"I notice, signor, that you are very pale. Are you ill?"

"My emotion has its origin in something worse than illness. Day beforeyesterday Signor Turchi asserted in your presence that Geronimo had lost aconsiderable sum at play, and that he had fled the country to escape myjust indignation. Great as was my confidence in Turchi, I could not creditthe truth of this revelation. I determined to seek in my nephew's accountsthe marks of his ingratitude, or rather the proofs of his innocence. Ipassed a portion of the night in calculating over and over again; for theinvariable result was so frightful that my mind and heart refused toaccept the evidence of my senses. The sum lost in gambling by my nephew isincredible. "

"What!" exclaimed Mr. Van de Werve, "then the Signor Turchi was notmistaken in his suspicions?"

"Ten thousand crowns!" said Deodati sighing. 

"Ten thousand crowns!" replied Mr. Van de Werve. "Impossible! That is afortune of itself. "

"And yet it is true. There is a deficit of ten thousand crowns in themoney vault of the house, and there are exactly ten thousand crownsunaccounted for on the books. Not a line, not a mark refers in any mannerto the employment or destination of this sum. Evidently it must have beenused otherwise than in the business transactions of the house, and asGeronimo himself told the Signor Turchi that he had lost a considerableamount at play, I am forced in spite of myself to admit the painful truth. Ten thousand crowns! Can neither virtue nor fidelity be found upon earth?A child whom I treated as my own son, whom I loved with blind affection, and over whose welfare I would have watched as long as I lived. And thisis the return for all my love! Ah! signor, this ingratitude is like adagger in my heart. "

Mr. Van de Werve gazed abstractedly as if in deep thought. Then he said, seriously:

"You are truly unhappy, signor, and I commiserate your sorrow. How can itbe possible? All is deceit and perfidy. Geronimo seemed the soul of virtueand loyalty; he lived with so much economy and conducted himself sohonorably, that to those who knew him not he might have appeared either apoor man or a precocious miser. And this tranquil, modest, prudent youngman loses at the gaming-table ten thousand crowns, the property of hisbenefactor! His laudable course of conduct was but a base hypocrisy!"

"And nevertheless, " murmured the old Deodati, "my unfortunate nephew had apure and loving heart! Might not his blindness have been the effect of onesolitary and momentary error? Perhaps so. Man sometimes meets fataltemptations which attract him irresistibly, but to which he yields onlyonce in his life. "

"Why then did he fly, and thus acknowledge his guilt? No, signor, noexcuse can palliate such misdeeds. I burn with indignation at the thoughtthat such signal favors have met with such cold and base ingratitude. Theidea of your affliction restrains me from speaking of the outrage done mydaughter. Fortunately, the reputation and social position of my family issuch as to screen it from the consequences of such an act. But, signor, Ihope you will agree with me that there can no longer be a question of analliance between my daughter and your nephew. He may return and obtainyour pardon, but that will not change my determination. From this dayforward the Signor Geronimo is as a stranger whom we have never known. "

Deodati regarded the irritated nobleman with tearful eyes, and seemed todeprecate the inflexible decree. 

Mr. Van de Werve took his hand, and said in a calmer manner:

"Be reasonable, signor, and do not let yourself be blinded by affection. What a dishonor to my name, were I to permit a man with so tarnished areputation to enter my family! Could I confide the happiness of my goodand noble child to one who was not withdrawn from a culpable love of playby life-long benefits? Could I accept as my son a man whom I could notesteem, whom on the contrary I would despise for his ingratitude to you?Acknowledge with me that such a union is impossible, and let us talk nomore of it. Be still my friend, however, as long as you remain atAntwerp. "

The merchant shook his head, and after a few moments' silence, he replied:

"Alas! I ought to admit that there is no hope of realizing this honorablealliance. What happiness Geronimo has staked on the cast of a die! I thankyou, Mr. Van de Werve, for your proffered friendship, but I shall notremain at Antwerp. To-day I shall beg Signor Turchi to settle up theaffairs of the house in this city. Now that I have no one in the world tocare for, none for whom to work and amass money, I shall retire fromcommerce. I have ordered the _Il Salvatore_ to be provisioned, and I shallset sail by the first favorable wind. "

"You are right, signor. By returning to your own beautiful country, youwill the sooner forget this misfortune. "

"God knows when I will revisit my country!" replied the old man. 

"Are you not going to Italy?" demanded Mr. Van de Werve. 

"No, sir; but to England. "

"In search of your nephew? Signor Turchi led us to suppose that he hadsought refuge in that island. I admire your unbounded love for a man solittle deserving of it; but, signor, you require rest. Follow my advice:go to Italy, and do not shorten your life by the sorrows which may awaityou in England. "

"The advice is no doubt good, " replied Deodati; "but I cannot follow it. However guilty he may be, Geronimo is the only son of my deceased brother, whom I promised on his death-bed to watch over his child as if he were myown. Were I to abandon Geronimo entirely, he might be pushed by want andmisery into the path of vice, perhaps of infamy. I will fulfil my duty tothe last. If I love him less than formerly, at least I will save him fromutter ruin. "

"What generosity!" exclaimed Mr. Van de Werve, in admiration. "You travelabout in search of your nephew; you endanger your health. I foresee thathe has but to speak to obtain pardon. And this great sacrifice, thismagnanimous affection meets with such a return! It is frightful!"

"No, sir, " replied Deodati, "I will not pardon Geronimo. He will never bethe same to me. Should I find him, or should he return to me, I will givehim an income sufficient to keep him from want; that being done, I shallrenounce the world and retire into a cloister, to await there in solitudeand peace the time when it may please God to call me to himself. "

Mr. Van de Werve heard the street-door open, and said eagerly to the oldmerchant:

"Signor, my daughter is at church and may return at any moment. I beg younot to speak of these things in her presence. Since the disappearance ofGeronimo, she does nothing but weep and pray; no consideration alleviatesher sorrow, nothing consoles her. If she were suddenly to lose all hope, it might cause her death. Heavens! Signor Turchi, what has happened tohim?"

He arose hastily and regarded in astonishment Simon Turchi, who enteredand attempted to speak, but the words seemed to die upon his lips; for hestood trembling in the centre of the room, uttering unintelligible sounds. He was pale as death. 

Deodati arose also, and looked inquiringly at Turchi. 

The latter said, hurriedly:

"I went to the house of the bailiff; he was not at home. He has been sentfor, and he will be here immediately with his officers to accompany me tomy garden. Oh! I have terrible news to communicate; but my mind wanders, Iam losing my senses. I can tell nothing, particularly to you, SignorDeodati. Unhappy old man! Why did God reserve such a trial for your oldage?"

"Another misfortune? Speak, Simon, speak, " said Deodati, in supplianttones, and trembling from anxiety. 

Turchi fell, as if from exhaustion, upon a chair, and said, in a voicebroken by sobs:

"No, signor, ask me nothing; I could not break your heart by such stunningtidings. Alas! alas! who anticipated such a misfortune? My unhappy friend!my poor Geronimo!"

A torrent of tears fell from his eyes, and while Deodati and Mr. Van deWerve begged him to tell the cause of big extraordinary emotion, hestammered:

"Oh! let me be silent; despair tortures my heart. I can tell no one butthe bailiff; he will soon be here. If I could but doubt! But no, it is tootrue; there is no more hope! May the God of mercy receive his poor soulinto heaven!"

"Of whom do you speak?" exclaimed Deodati. "His soul? Whose soul?Geronimo's?"

Steps were heard in the vestibule. Simon Turchi went to the door, andsaid:

"Here is the bailiff! He will know the secret which is breaking my heart. "

The bailiff entered the room, looked around in surprise, and at last saidto Simon Turchi, who continued to talk confusedly:

"You have sent for me in all haste, in order to make a terriblerevelation; I am here with my officers. Have you discovered Geronimo'sassassins? Speak, Simon, and tell us what you know. "

"So horrible is this secret, messire, that my tongue refuses to tell it. Ah! if I could forever--"

"Calm yourself, signor, " said the bailiff, with perfect self-possession. "What have you learned?"

"But--but I must be alone with you. The news I have to communicate mustnot be revealed before Signor Deodati. "

The old man said, with tearful eyes:

"You are cruel, Signor Simon! What could you say more terrible? You speakof Geronimo's soul; you announce his death, and yet you leave me in thishorrible doubt. Speak, I conjure you. "

All that Simon Turchi had said was only a deception practised upon hisauditors, in order to make them believe that grief had affected his mind, and to prepare the way for his revelation. 

At last he appeared to yield to necessity, and said:

"God grant that the frightful news may not afflict you as it did me!Listen! you know that two days ago my servant Julio left my servicebecause I severely reproved his irregularities. This disquieted me, because I had noticed that he was pursued by some secret remorse. Justnow, hardly a half hour ago, I left my residence, and was going towardsthe Dominican church to pray for my poor friend. On the way I thought ofmy servant Julio, and feared that in his despair he might have taken hislife. When I was near the bridge, I heard my own name timidly pronounced. I turned and saw Julio. I commenced to reproach him with his absence, butputting his finger on his lips, he whispered:

"'Signor, I beg you to follow me; I have a secret to reveal to you. '

"His manner and tone of voice were so peculiar that I accompanied him to aretired spot. His revelation caused me such intense grief that I couldhardly stand, and I was obliged to support myself against the wall as Ireceived the confession of the penitent assassin. "

A cry of horror escaped Deodati. Eager to hear the remainder, Mr. Van deWerve gazed fixedly upon the narrator. The bailiff was more calm--helistened attentively and nodded his head, as if he foresaw the conclusionof Turchi's narrative. 

"I hardly dare continue, " he said. "My soul revolts--but I must disregardmy feelings, " and in a more tranquil manner, he resumed:

"Shuddering with horror, I heard Julio say:

"'Master, I have committed a frightful murder. Remorse pursues me as amalediction from God. I shall put an end to my guilty life. In an hour Ishall be in eternal torments, but I wish the body of my victim to beburied in holy ground. Go to your pavilion. In the lowest cellar, at theextremity of the subterranean passage, you will find the corpse of SignorGeronimo buried. '"

Tears fell fast from the eyes of Signor Deodati, and sobs convulsed hisframe. 

Turchi continued:

"'Signor Geronimo!' I exclaimed, in terror. 'Have you killed my poorfriend?'

"'Yes, I put to death Signor Geronimo. I needed money to spend at thetaverns, and you would not give it to me. I killed him in order to get themoney he might have about him. Adieu! This very day all will be over withme. ' Before I had sufficiently recovered from the shock to think ofseizing Julio, he had disappeared. Probably, to-day--"

"Heavens!" exclaimed Simon Turchi, "I hear Miss Van de Werve. "

"For the love of God, not a word in her presence, " said Mr. Van de Werve. 

Mary entered the room, looking around anxiously. She had seen the officersat the door, and she seemed to inquire of her father the cause of theirpresence. 

She remarked her father's pallor and embarrassment. Simon Turchi lookeddown, as if in despair. Deodati covered his face with his hands. 

A cry of anguish escaped the young girl, and she glanced in turns at herfather, Deodati, Turchi, and the bailiff; but they each seemed anxious toavoid her eye. 

"Go to your room, Mary, " said Mr. Van de Werve. 

"Give me this proof of affection. Ask nothing. "

The young girl, struck by these evidences of some misfortune, ran to herfather and exclaimed, joining her hands:

"Speak, father, and tell me what has happened. Leave me not in thisterrible suspense. Tell me that they have not found Geronimo's dead body. Alas! he is dead! Is it not so?"

Throwing her arms around her father's neck, she wept bitterly, conjuringhim to tell her the cause of their emotion. 

Without giving her any explanation, Mr. Van de Werve attempted to lead hisdaughter out of the room; but she, like one crazed by grief, released herhand from her father's, fell upon her knees before Turchi, and exclaimed:

"By the love you bore him, signor, take pity on me and tell me what hashappened to him. Let me not leave the room under the frightful convictionthat he is dead!"

Turchi remained silent, gazing upon her with an expression of profoundsadness. 

"You, too, are implacable, inexorable!" she said, rising. 

"But you, at least--his uncle, his father--will be more merciful. "

She ran to the weeping merchant, gently forced his hands from his face, and conjured him, in piteous accents, to give her some information whichwould relieve the torturing suspense. 

The old Deodati, still weeping, threw his arms around her neck, andmurmured:

"God bless you, my child, for your love. Let us pray for him!"

Mr. Van de Werve had left the room to call Petronilla. He returned withher, and said to his daughter:

"Mary, go with your duenna. You must not remain here longer. "

The young girl seemed not to hear her father's words, for she wasimmovable as if petrified by grief. 

He added, in an impatient, severe tone:

"Mary, leave the room. I wish it; I command it. Obey me. "

She arose and walked slowly towards the door. Tears flowed down hercheeks; she supported her trembling limbs by leaning on the arm of herduenna. Mr. Van de Werve feared she would lose consciousness beforereaching her own apartment. 

All, with the exception of the perfidious Turchi, were moved by compassionfor the unhappy young girl. 

As the duenna opened the door to let her mistress pass out, strange soundswere heard in the vestibule. 

Mary started, and stepped back into the room, as though in presence ofsome apparition. 

"It is his ghost, his spirit, " she exclaimed, "arisen from the grave todemand vengeance upon his murderers!"

She gazed with intense emotion, then added, in accents of the wildest joy:

"He smiles upon me; it is himself! He lives! It is Geronimo!"

Pronouncing this cherished name, she fell insensible in the arms of herattendant, who, assisted by the bailiff, carried her to an armchair. 

Signor Geronimo entered. His face was as pale and fleshless as that of askeleton. The wound he had received in his neck appeared like a large spotof clotted blood--his garments were disordered, soiled, and blood stained. He seemed really a spectre just arisen from the tomb. 

As soon as Turchi recognized his victim, he recoiled, uttering a cry ofterror; and imagining that God had permitted a miracle in order to punishhis crime, he extended his trembling hands to Geronimo, as if to implorepardon. 

The young man cast upon him a look of disgust and contempt, and exclaimed:

"You here, assassin? Tremble, for the Supreme Judge will demand of you anaccount of my blood and of Julio's death. "

A murmur of surprise and terror ran through the room; all eyes were fixedon Simon Turchi, who seemed crushed by Geronimo's words. 

Having thus addressed Turchi, Geronimo rushed into his uncle's arms andembraced him in a transport of joy. 

"Oh, unexpected happiness!" he exclaimed. "It is permitted me to see myuncle again in this world! I know you have suffered; you have suffered asa father deprived of his only child! No more sorrow now. I will repay youfor your tender affection; I will love you; I will show my gratitude; Iwill venerate you. Ah! bless the God of mercy, who has saved me from thefangs of that tiger thirsting for my blood! But Mary, where is Mary? Ah!there she is! My beloved friend, what has happened?"

He ran to the insensible young girl, knelt before her, and endeavored torecall her to consciousness by every endearing epithet. 

In the meantime Mr. Van de Werve aided the duenna in her exertions torestore animation. Taking advantage of this, Simon Turchi walked towardsthe door with the intention of making his escape; but the bailiffdiscovering his design, drew his sword and placed himself in the doorway. 

Then Simon Turchi understood the fate awaiting him. He bowed his head andcovered his face with his hands. He trembled in every limb, and his breastheaved with sighs of anguish. Every expectation of escape by flight, or bymaking an appeal for pardon, vanished as he beheld the indignantexpression of the bailiff. 

Mary at last recovered from the faint into which she had fallen. Shelooked around her in surprise, as if ignorant of what had happened; butwhen Geronimo's voice fell in joyous accents on her ear, a bright smileirradiated her countenance, and she exclaimed:

"It is not a dream! He lives! I see him once more! Geronimo! Geronimo!"

The young noble was too overpowered to do more than call the name of hisbeloved. 

Only a few minutes had elapsed since Geronimo's entrance; all were toomuch moved to express their surprise in words. But the bailiff resolved toput an end to this harrowing scene by the performance of a painful duty. 

He said, in an imperative manner:

"Signor Geronimo, be pleased to interrupt for a moment the expression ofyour happiness. By the authority of the law I ask you what has happened, and why you stigmatize the Signor Turchi as an assassin. Approach, andobey my order. "

Turchi, foreseeing that his frightful crime was about to be revealed, writhed convulsively and was covered with shame and confusion. He darednot look upon his accuser. 

"Declare the truth, " ordered the bailiff. 

"Five or six weeks ago, " said Geronimo, "Simon Turchi told me thatunforeseen circumstances made it an imperative necessity for him to raisethe sum of ten thousand crowns, adding that if he did not succeed inobtaining it immediately, the credit of his house would be gone, and thathe himself would be irretrievably ruined. He needed the sum, he said, onlyfor one month. I lent him the ton thousand crowns, and at his earnestsolicitation, in order to conceal the knowledge of this loan from theclerks, I made no entry upon the books of the transaction, but wassatisfied with an acknowledgment in writing of the debt. "

Old Deodati made an exclamation of joy, ran to his nephew, and embracedhim affectionately. 

"God be praised! Dear Geronimo, you restore me to life. That wicked mantried to persuade me that you had lost ten thousand crowns at play. Youwere too virtuous, too grateful for that, my beloved boy!"

"Observe the respect due the law, Signor Deodati. Continue your statement, Signor Geronimo. "

"What an odious falsehood!" said the young man. 

Then turning to the bailiff, he continued:

"When we last met in this house, Signor Turchi told me that a foreignmerchant, who wished to remain unknown, would repay me the ten thousandcrowns. I was to go to his country-house alone, and secretly to return thenote I held, and receive reliable bills of exchange upon Italy. When Iwent, Julio, Simon Turchi's servant, pushed me into a chair prepared as atrap, in which my body was caught and held immovable by steel springs. Then Simon entered with a dagger in his hand; he took from me the note, and destroyed it in my presence. He attempted to stab me in the breast, but the blow was warded off by a copper amulet which I wore around myneck. I then received in my neck what I considered a mortal wound; I feltmy blood flowing freely, and I bade, as I supposed, an eternal adieu tolife. "

Old Deodati, without being aware of it, had drawn his sword from thescabbard as if he were about to pierce Turchi to the heart; but he wasrestrained by a look of severity from the bailiff, although he continuedplaying with the hilt, and muttering in an undertone menaces against themurderer. 

"I awoke to consciousness, " continued Geronimo, "in a dark dungeon; I waslying beside a grave which had been dug to receive my remains. When Julioreturned to bury my corpse, he found me living. He was about to kill me, but he recognized the amulet I wore around my neck, and I was saved. Theold blind woman who gave me the amulet as a recompense for delivering herfrom the hands of the Moslems was Julio's mother. Last night Signor Turchigave poisoned wine to Julio, who died in my arms, declaring to me thatSignor Turchi hired Bufferio to assassinate me. I labored for hours beforeI succeeded in obtaining egress from the garden. Now behold me saved froma frightful death through the miraculous protection of God, and restoredto all that is dear to me on earth!"

The bailiff's voice was heard, issuing his commands, in the vestibule. Turchi comprehended the order. He cast himself on his knees, extended hishands, and weeping, cried out:

"Oh! Messire Van Schoonhoven, --Geronimo, --I have been guilty of afrightful crime. I deserve your hatred, your contempt and death; but havepity on me! Spare me the shame of the scaffold; do not cover my familywith eternal infamy. Exile me to the ends of the earth; but pardon, pardon, deliver me not to the executioner!"

Five officers of justice appeared at the door. 

"What are your commands?" asked the chief. 

"Bind the signor's hands behind his back!"

"Heavens! bind my hands like a thief!" exclaimed Turchi. 

"Bind the hands of a nobleman?" repeated the chief in surprise. 

"Execute my order immediately! This nobleman is an infamous robber and acowardly assassin. Cast him in the deepest dungeon; he shall pay thepenalty of his crime upon the scaffold. "

The command was promptly obeyed, and Turchi, in spite of his resistance, was dragged from the room followed by the bailiff. 

Mary and Geronimo wept with joy. Deodati claimed their attention saying:

"My dear children, let us fulfil a sacred duty of gratitude. God has sovisibly protected innocence that the feeling of His presence in our midstoverpowers me. Your hopes will become a reality. Let us pray!"

He knelt before the crucifix, bowed his head and joined his hands. 

Geronimo and Mary knelt beside the old man, Mr. Van de Werve behind them. 

For a long time they lifted their grateful hearts in thanksgiving to theGod of goodness. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

MARY VAN DE WERVE'S (NOW MADAME GERONIMO DEODATI) DEPARTURE FOR ITALY--THEPUNISHMENT OF SIMON TURCHI. 

It was six o'clock in the morning. 

The height of the sun indicated that the warm season of summer hadreplaced the mild month of May. It was apparently a festival day atAntwerp, for through all the gates people poured from the surroundingcountry into the city. The streets were filled with persons of all ages, who, talking and laughing, hastened to the centre of the city, as thoughthey anticipated some magnificent spectacle. 

Before Mr. Van de Werve's residence was a compact mass of citizens whoseemed impatient at the delay. Through a sentiment of respect, they wereperfectly quiet, speaking in very low tones, and making way to afford apassage through the crowd every time that a cavalier or any notablepersonage presented himself for admission into the house. 

The attraction to the centre of the city must have been very powerful, forthe greater part of those who passed neither stopped nor turned theirheads. Some approached, and learning upon inquiry as to the cause of thegathering, that Miss Van de Werve was about to leave for Italy, theyimmediately resumed their walk, as if the sight of this departure were noequivalent to the imposing spectacle they were going to witness. A few, however, remained in order to discover the real object of so large aconcourse of people. 

An old gray-headed peasant, after having listened to the conversationgoing on among the peasants, recognized in the crowd a man from his ownvillage, who had been residing for some time in the city, near the churchof Saint James, and who consequently, he thought, must be better informedthan the others in regard to Miss Van de Werve. 

He elbowed his way through the crowd until he reached his friend, struckhim on the shoulder, and said:

"What is going on here, Master John, to collect such an assembly? I heardsome one say that Miss Van de Werve was about to leave for Italy. "

"Ah! Master Stephen, " said the other, "call her Madame Geronimo Deodati. "

"Is she married?"

"One would say, Master Stephen, that our village is at the other end ofthe world. Even the children of Antwerp bless this marriage as a strikingproof of God's justice. "

"I did hear, friend John, that God had visibly avenged virtue and punishedcrime. The assassin dies by a frightful death, and the victim becomes thehusband of the noblest and wealthiest young lady in the marquisate. Do youknow her, Master John?"

"Do I know her? She passes my house twice every day in going to church. Ifurnish the family with bread, and I have frequent opportunities ofspeaking with this amiable young lady. "

"I would like to see her, " said the old man, "but if I wait, I shallarrive too late at the public square. "

"You need not fear, " replied Master John. "The executioner's car will notleave the prison for an hour to come. "

The peasant hesitated as to what he should do. 

"Are you sure that the young lady will leave at once?"

"Immediately, Master Stephen. Mr. Van de Werve urges the departure--hewishes to be out of the city before the executioner commences his work. "

"Why, " said the peasant, "did they wait until to-day? In their place Iwould have gone long ago. "

"Ah!" replied Master John, "here is another evidence of God's interventionin these terrible affairs. The vessel which bears them to Italy has beenready to sail for a week. During all that time the wind blew constantlyfrom the south-west; it changed to the east only last night, so that theirdeparture before was impossible. But the tide is high now and willcommence to ebb at the very hour fixed for the death of the assassin. Yousee that God himself willed Mr. Van de Werve to remain here until hisvengeance was accomplished. "

"Does she go to Italy to reside?"

"Oh, no; she only goes on a wedding trip. She will return in the course ofa year, when the impression of the perfidy and cruelty of Simon Turchiwill be less painful. Back, back, Master Stephen, they are coming!"

From the crowd arose a joyous shout. Each was anxious to approach MadameDeodati. Those who did not know her desired to see the noble young womanwhose name was so painfully connected with the bloody history of SimonTurchi, and who was esteemed a model of pure virtue, fervent piety, andideal beauty. The neighbors and those who had the honor of knowing hercollected in order to salute her, to bid her a respectful and cordialadieu, and to wish her a happy voyage. 

Mary Van de Werve, now Madame Geronimo Deodati, appeared at the dooraccompanied by her husband. As soon as the people perceived her, loud andlong acclamations greeted her; they waved their caps, clapped their hands, rent the air with their cries of joy, and strove to obtain a glance of theangelic features of the beautiful lady and the noble countenance of herhusband, who had been so miraculously preserved, by the providence of God, from the hands of his cruel enemy, Simon Turchi. 

Mr. Van de Werve walked by his daughter's side; the old Deodati was nearhis beloved nephew Geronimo. Then followed Mary's two married brothers anda large number of her father's near relatives and friends, as well as manyItalians, Portuguese, and Spaniards, who wished to escort Geronimo to theship. 

When Mary heard the benedictions and joyous shouts of the people, and sawall eyes fixed upon her with looks of love, the blood mantled to hercheeks, and she modestly cast down her eyes. But immediately raising them, she saluted the crowd as a mark of her gratitude for their kindness. Themultitude, at a sign from Mr. Van de Werve, opened a passage for theparty, and they proceeded to the Scheldt amid acclamations testifying thelove and respect they inspired. Their drive resembled a triumphalprocession. The old Deodati was deeply moved. He seemed rejuvenated. Asweet smile was upon his lips, and he looked proudly upon Geronimo. Thusfull of the thought of their future happiness, they reached the dock-yard. In the middle of the Scheldt was the _Il Salvatore_, decked with flags androcking upon the waves as if conscious of the precious treasure about tobe confided to it. 

A part of the sailors were occupied in unmooring the vessel; even theharsh grating sound of the capstan could be heard on the wharf. The restof the crew manned the masts, and they waved their caps in the air, shouting:

"_Benvenuto! benvenuto! Viva, viva la nostra signora!_"

At the same time the sound of five or six cannon from the _Il Salvatore_boomed over the waters, prolonged by the echoes from either side as itfloated down the river. The multitude replied by three cheers, and thelast reverberation of the cannon was lost in the _vivas_ of those on theshore and ships. 

In the meantime parents and friends were bidding adieu. Many tears wereshed, and it was with tearful eyes that Mary Van de Werve received uponher brow her brothers' kiss. 

The _Il Salvatore_ weighed anchor; the sails caught the wind, and thevessel floated majestically down the river with the tide. 

Mr. Van de Werve, Deodati, and their two happy children, entered the barkwhich awaited them. Petronilla seated herself beside her mistress. Theyexchanged a last adieu, and the eight oars fell simultaneously in thewater. The bark, under the strokes of the robust oarsmen, cut the waves ina rapid course. 

At this moment Geronimo's eyes were filled with tears. Lifting his eyes toheaven, he said:

"Blessed be Thou, my God, for all the sufferings Thou hast sent me;blessed be Thou for Thy infinite goodness. I thank Thee for the wife ithas pleased Thee to give me; she will be my companion in my much lovedcountry. A thousand thanks for all Thy benefits!"

The bark had reached the galley. A ladder was lowered, and, aided by thesailors, the party ascended the deck. The pilot gave the signal, the sailswere unfurled, the ship rocked for a moment as if courting the breeze, and then it rapidly cleaved the waves. 

The cannon again boomed from the _Il Salvatore_, and again theacclamations of the crowd rent the air. 

 * * * * *

The sounds had hardly died away when the spectators, as if impelled by onethought, immediately retired, and made all speed to reach the central partof the city. 

The crowd which left the wharf so precipitately soon arrived at the grandsquare, but they found it already occupied by so compact a mass of humanbeings, that it was impossible for them to penetrate it. As far as the eyecould reach, there was a sea of heads; all the windows were crowded withwomen and even children; the roofs swarmed with curious spectators; theiron balustrades seemed to bend under the weight of the children who hadclimbed upon them. 

A solemn silence reigned in the midst of the vast multitude. Not a soundwas heard save the slow and mournful tolling of the death-bell, and atintervals a scream so piercing, so frightful, that those who listened toit turned pale and trembled. Every eye was fixed upon a particular spot, whence clouds of smoke curled in the air, and from which escaped the criesof distress. 

What passed that day on the grand square of Antwerp is thus related byMatthew Bandello, Bishop of Agen, who lived at that period, and who wrotefrom the testimony of an eye-witness:

 * * * * *

"Upon the appointed day, Simon Turchi was enclosed in the same chair anddriven on a wagon through the streets of Antwerp, the good priestaccompanying him and exhorting him. When they reached the grand square, the chair was removed from the wagon. The executioners lighted a slowfire, which they kept alive with wood, but in such a manner that theflames should not rise too high, but sufficed to roast slowly the unhappyTurchi. The priest remained as near to him as the heat permitted, andfrequently said to him:

"'Simon, this is the hour for repentance!'

"And Simon, as long as he could speak, replied:

"'Yes, father. '"

 * * * * *

Simon Turchi evinced great repentance and much patience, and he acceptedwith resignation the painful and infamous death to which he was condemned. When it was certain that he was dead, his body, partially consumed, wasconveyed outside the city gates and attached to a stake by an iron chain. The dagger with which he had stabbed Geronimo was thrust into his side. The stake was so placed on the public road that it could be seen by allwho passed, in order that the punishment inflicted for murder might serveas a warning to others, and prevent the commission of infamous crimes. 

THE END. 

ENDNOTES

[Footnote 1: "All the foreign merchants who resided at Bruges, with theexception of a few Spaniards, established themselves here about the year1516, to the great disadvantage of Bruges and to the advantage ofAntwerp. "--Le Guicciardini, _Description of the Low Countries_. Arnhem, 1617, p. 113. ]

[Footnote 2: C. Schibanius, in his _Origines Antwerpien Sum_, says that hehas often seen in the Scheldt twenty-five hundred vessels, many of whichwere detained at anchor for two or three weeks before being able toapproach the wharf. ]

[Footnote 3: The stables, and coach-houses used by this company fortransportation still exist at Antwerp. Although they are now occupied asbarracks, they preserve their original name--_Hessenhaus_. ]

[Footnote 4: See the statistics of population given by Schibanius in the_History of Antwerp_, by Mertens & Torfo, Part IV. , ch. V. ]

[Footnote 5: The inhabitants of Antwerp are experienced and skilled incommercial affairs, and although they may not have left their own countrythe greater part of them, even the women, can speak four, five, andsometimes seven different languages. ]

[Footnote 6: "The nobles of Netherlands do not engage in commerce like theItalian noblemen from Venice, Florence, Genoa, and Lucca. "--L. Guiccardini, _Description of the Low Countries_, p. 140. ]

[Footnote 7: "Two well-known Italian merchants, both of noble birth, natives of Lucca, who were great friends. " Van Mertens, _History of theLow Countries_, Vol. I. ]

[Footnote 8: The bailiff (schoat) was the representative of the prince inthe prosecution of crimes. He alone, and his agents by his orders, couldmake arrests, except in cases of flagrant crime or of persons lying inwait. This high functionary was also called the _margrave_, because themargrave of the Low Countries was, in virtue of that office, the bailiffof the city of Antwerp. ]

[Footnote 9: "It is estimated that three thousand new houses were eithererected by himself, or by others through his assistance. "--Mertens &Torfo, _History of Antwerp_. ]

[Footnote 10: This church was demolished at the commencement of thiscentury. The spot upon which it stood is now called the "_Plain of SaintWalburga_. "]

[Footnote 11: In the _History of Antwerp_, by Mertens & Torfo, Part IV. , chapter iii. , is found a view of the city, from the banks of the Scheldt, as it was in 1556, and details concerning the principal edifices. ]

[Footnote 12: "Geronimo went to Simon and demanded payment of the sumlent, and for which he held a note. Turchi made various excuses, and putoff payment from day to day. "--_Matteo Bandello. _]

[Footnote 13: "A fierce desire of vengeance took possession of Simon, andhe sought to kill Geronimo. "--_Matieo Bandello. _]

[Footnote 14: A measure of four pints. ]

[Footnote 15: "One night, when passing through the streets, he receivedfrom the hands of an enemy an ugly wound in the face. He suspectedGeronimo of having inflicted it; in which he was mistaken, for the authorof the attack was afterwards discovered. "--_Matteo Bandello_. ]

[Footnote 16: "After Simon Turchi had determined to revenge himself, andafter long consideration, he ordered a large wooden arm-chair, to whichwere attached two iron bars, so arranged that whoever should sit down init would be caught by the legs below the knees, and would be unable tomove. "--Van Meteren, _History of the Low Countries_. ]

[Footnote 17: "Geronimo, a merchant from Lyons desires to see you, but ashe does not wish to be known at Antwerp now, he is concealed in my garden. He begs that you will meet him there. "--_Matteo Bandello_. ]

[Footnote 18: "This chair being made, he told one of his servants, namedJulio, who was proscribed in Italy, and under sentence of death. "--VanMeteren, _History of the Low Countries_. ]

[Footnote 19: "And the said Julio pushed Geronimo into a large arm-chair, which sprang and closed. "--_Origin and Genealogy of the Dukes andDuchesses of Brabant_. Antwerp, 1565; p. 308. ]

[Footnote 20: "In the cellar ... In a grave which had been prepared by thesaid Julio to bury Geronimo after the commission of the murder. "--_Originand Genealogy of the Dukes and Duchesses of Brabant_. ]

[Footnote 21: _Order and Proclamation of Messire Van Schoonhoven, bailiff, and of the Burgomaster, Constables, and Council of the city of Antwerp_:

"It having come to the knowledge of the bailiff, burgomaster, andconstables of this city that Geronimo Deodati, a merchant of Lucca, wentout yesterday afternoon, about four o'clock, from his residence in thiscity, near the Convent of the Dominicans, and that he was seen for thelast time beyond the Square of Meir, and since then he has not been heardof, and we know not what has become of him, so that there is greatsuspicion that the said Geronimo has been maltreated, or even put todeath; therefore, the magistrates of the same city do proclaim that he whofirst will give information as to what has become of the said Geronimo, will receive the sum of three hundred florins. "--_Extract from the "Bookof Laws of the City of Antwerp_. "]

[Footnote 22: "The bailiff said that the magistrates had determined tosearch all the stables, cellars, and gardens, to discover whether theground in any of these places had been recently dug. "--E. Van Meteren, _History of the Low Countries_. ]

[Footnote 23: "Simon Turchi was known to be a perverse and immoral man; ina word, he was a compound of every vice and every evilinclination. "--_Matteo Bandello_. ]

[Footnote 24: "Go and do what I have commanded you. Disinter the body, take it on your shoulders and cast it into the sewer which is in thesquare where the three streets meet. "--_Simon Turchi_. --_MatteoBandello_. ]

[Footnote 25: "I will send Bernardo to help you, and I will order him toobey you, whatever you may command. When you have thrown the body into thesewer, you can, by a quick movement, push Bernardo in also. The sewer isdeep, and whoever falls into it is immediately drowned. "--_MatteoBandello_. ]

[Footnote 26: "Simon Turchi begged Julio to take the crime uponhimself. "--Van Meteren, _History of the Low Countries_. ]