Not far from the bridge De la Vigne, Simon Turchi had a magnificent dwelling, where the offices of the commercial house of Buonvisi were situated; but he possessed also, at the extremity of the city, pleasure-grounds, where in fine weather he was accustomed to invite his friends and acquaintances to festivals, banquets, and concerts. His domains were near the church of Saint George, surrounded by grounds belonging to the hospital.
Exteriorly it appeared to be only a wall of enclosure, shaded by lofty trees, and without openings. Against the horizon were seen two glittering weathercocks 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 among the thickets of verdure, appeared marble statues representing principally the gods of pagan mythology. In the centre of the garden was a pond, in which seemed to float a crowd of monstrous animals, such as dragons, basilisks, lizards, and salamanders. It was a fountain; and when the robinets were opened these monsters spouted the water in every direction from their eyes and mouths.
But at the bottom of the garden and at some distance from the wall of enclosure was an antique pavilion of gray-stone, the walls of which were nearly covered with ivy, and which, in spite of their dark hue, presented a very picturesque appearance.
With the exception of the small and narrow windows, which were protected by iron bars, and the staircase of slate which gave admittance, this heavy building presented nothing remarkable, unless it were two round turrets, which rose above the surrounding roofs and even above the gigantic trees in its vicinity.
The garden had been evidently long neglected, for all the walks were covered with weeds, and in the flower-beds were the half decayed props which had supported the plants of the previous autumn. The statues were spotted by the dust and rain; a fine moss covered the monsters of the fountains, and the little water remaining in the pond was stagnant.
These evidences of the absence of man, the sombre hue of the edifice, the shrubs growing untrimmed, but, above all, the complete silence, gave a mournful air of abandonment to the place, and in this solitude the soul was necessarily filled with painful reflections.
It was already late in the afternoon; the sun was about to sink below the horizon, its slanting rays illumined only the weathercocks on the top of the towers. Within the thickets and at the entrance of the grottos, night already reigned. Not the slightest sound was heard in this place. The noise of the people at work in the city resounded in the air, the chiming of the church-bells was wafted from the distance over this solitary dwelling; but as no sound arose from the habitation itself, the distant hum from an active multitude rendered the silence of the spot all the more striking.
Only at intervals a dull sound like the grating noise of a file seemed to issue from the old edifice; but it was so indistinct and so often interrupted that it was not sufficient to destroy the solitude and silence of the place.
Suddenly two heavy strokes, as if from a hammer, resounded through the garden. 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 moustache covered his upper lip. His cheeks, though sunken and emaciated, were very red. His eyes were wild in their expression. His arms and legs were of extraordinary length; his movements were heavy and slow, as though his limbs had been dislocated and his muscles without strength.
His dress denoted him to be a menial: he wore a vest of black leather, a red doublet and breeches of the same color, without embroidery or ornament.
At this moment his sleeves were rolled up, and his thin arms were bare to the elbows. In his hand he held a file, and apparently he had been interrupted in some urgent work by the knock at the door. Having reached the 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 in the same tongue.
"Of course, on the way you stopped at theCamel, 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 spring and examined it attentively, closing and opening it as if to judge of its form and power of resistance.
Bernardo was a deformed man of low stature; the projection on his back might be styled a hump—it was so prominent. His physiognomy denoted pusillanimity; but there was, at the same time, a malicious sparkle in his eye, and it was with a mocking smile that he contemplated the man with the red beard.
The latter said to him in a commanding tone: "The spring appears to be good. 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 signor ordered me to return immediately to the factory."
"Get me the wine, or I will break this spring in a thousand pieces over your hump."
"Always threatening!" muttered Bernardo. "You know I am not wanting in good-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 this pint."
"My purse is empty, Julio; but yours? Our master gave you ever so many shillings 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 soul at the gaming-table if any one held out to you a gold coin."
"Very likely!" replied Julio, in an indifferent tone; "my soul is hardly worth more."
"What impious words! We are alone now, but there is One above who hears what we say. He will punish you, Julio."
The red-haired man shrugged his shoulders.
"Continue your dissolute habits," resumed Bernardo; "lose your money in gambling, drown your senses in intoxication: at the end of this path there is 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 will one day demand an account of your life. Adieu!"
Julio sprang towards the small door, locked it, and put the key in his pocket.
"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; the proverb says, that he who draws the sword shall perish by the sword. I have pierced so many with my dagger, that my turn must come to fall by the dagger. 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 left extended on the ground, my dagger knows better than I what mischief was done 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 my adventures of last night."
"It is always the same story over again. If I believed you, I would suppose that the cemeteries were too small to contain the bodies of all whom 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 is enough to paralyze my tongue. You shall listen to my adventures whether you wish it or not. Judge, Bernardo, by the recital of my great deeds what an honor it is to you to be the comrade of so intrepid a man. Be not ill-humored; you know it is useless to resist me. Don't laugh; were I to try it, I could toss you about like a ball; but you are my friend, and besides, you are too weak to contend with me. Therefore, fear nothing."
They reached the house and entered a kind of parlor, where Julio threw upon the table the spring he held in his hand, and seating himself, he said to his companion:
"Take a chair, Bernardo. You are about to hear some strange adventures. Do you know the ruffian Bufferio? He is a jolly fellow, who cares as little for the life of a man as for that of a fly. There is not a man in the parish of Saint Andrew who does not tremble at the sight of him. In a by-street there is a tavern in a large cellar, where one can hear the rattling of dice all night long, and they play for piles of gold—where it comes from, the devil only knows. Late yesterday evening I was passing through this street, when the noise of the dice fell upon my ear. You must know, Bernardo, that this sound is as enchanting music attracting me; it overpowers my will. I descended into the tavern and called for a glass of beer. I seated myself among the players, and challenged any of them to play against me. I won and lost; but at last good luck was on my side, and my pockets were so full that they could hardly bear the weight of the florins. To console the losers, I ordered the hostess to bring a pint of wine to each of them; but in spite of my generosity the villains looked at me angrily, and seemed to excite each other to take revenge upon me. They strove 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 bold words, my intrepid countenance, kept them at a respectful distance from me. Suddenly the dreaded Bufferio entered the cellar. He had no sooner learned from his comrades how fortune had favored me than he challenged me to 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 sweat bathed my brow as I saw florin after florin quietly put in the pocket of my adversary, until I had only one farthing left. This time fortune favored me; but Bufferio insisted that the dice had not been fairly thrown, and he swept the table of all the money staked. I sprang to my feet and called him a cheat. He instantly dealt me a heavy blow. Furious and thirsting for vengeance, I drew my dagger. Immediately twenty daggers glittered above my head. Perhaps, Bernardo, you think that I trembled? You do not know me; when I am thus in the midst of danger, an entire army could 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 to rush upon me, I darted forward like a lion, and I cut about on every side so furiously with my dagger, that all, even to the gigantic Bufferio, fled from the cellar. I pursued them into the street; there the combat recommenced; but my adversaries fared badly. In a few moments Bufferio lay dead upon the ground between two of his comrades; the others, being badly wounded, had taken flight. I stood alone upon the field of battle, a triumphant conqueror! I remained in the same spot for a quarter of an hour, to see if any other enemies would present themselves, but the wretches had had enough for one night."
Bernardo listened to this recital with an incredulous smile. When it was concluded, he silently shook his head.
"Well! what have you to say of this adventure?" asked Julio. "Might it not be narrated in the chronicles as an heroic adventure?"
"Certainly; in your place many others would have died of fright. But this morning I saw this Bufferio, whom you declare to be dead, walking alive in the public square."
"Impossible; you are mistaken."
"Perhaps so; but I know the ruffian well, for I have twice seen him in the pillory."
"If he is not dead, he will certainly not be able to make his appearance in 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 he had stolen from you?"
The red-haired man was at a loss for an answer; but after awhile he stammered out: "You are right. In the hurry of the struggle I did not think of it, and then I had not the time: the watchmen ran on hearing the noise of the affray, and you may imagine that I did not care to fall into the hands of the bailiff."
"I do not understand you; it seems to me you mentioned having remained a quarter of an hour upon the spot," said Bernardo, with a slight smile. "I suppose, 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 of blood, not the least spot, upon your clothes. With your permission, I will say you dreamed all that?"
Julio sprang from his seat, gnashed his teeth, and looked at his companion as if ready to devour him.
"What! you dare to laugh at me? Are you then tired of life? Fool! were I only to lay my hand upon you, you would be crushed to atoms."
Bernardo arose also, and said, in a tone half ironical and half supplicating: "Pardon me, Julio; I believe all you told me, and I never doubted 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 already laid you at my feet," said Julio; "as it is, I long to plunge my dagger in your breast."
"Leave it in its scabbard, Julio, and I will go to buy you astoop[14] of Hamburg beer."
"Ah, hypocrite!" exclaimed Julio, "then you have money. I will renew my friendship for you, if you will do me a favor. I am in absolute want of money; lend me a few shillings, and the first one who insults you, I promise you, shall be a dead man."
"But, Julio, were I to give them to you, you would gamble with them at once."
"No, you are wrong this time; I would pay for some things our master ordered me to buy yesterday."
Bernardo drew a small purse from his doublet, and handed to his companion its 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 to lecture you; but you have an unfortunate and aged mother who requires your aid. You are always talking of sending her assistance, and for six months past every farthing has been lost at play. Perhaps in the meantime your mother has suffered for want of food."
This reproach seemed to affect Julio deeply. He looked down abashed, and then 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 am a monster! Oh! this miserable play! I will do better in future. Go away now, and let me continue my work."
"What are you making?" asked Bernardo. "This is the third spring you have ordered, 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 showed him 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 wish the bewitched chair to the devil! I have already exhausted myself; but the new 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 is in contemplation? Does our master know anything of this terrible piece of furniture?"
"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 few indistinct words.
Suddenly Julio laughed immoderately, and slapping him on the shoulder exclaimed: "Foolish boy! he already sees a victim in this chair, and the blood 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 intends to clean the garden and repair the fountain. He will place this arm-chair in an arbor near the fountain; the guest who seats himself in it will be caught, and the salamanders may throw the water upon him as long as they please. It is a mania of our master."
"What a coward I am!" said Bernardo, laughing at his own fears. "Open the door now, Julio; I should have been at the factory long ago."
They both left the house talking together, and they turned their steps towards the exterior door.
The red-haired man soon returned alone. He removed the spring from the parlor-table, and took it with him to the room where he had terrified his companion by the revelation of his master's secret. He seated himself on the ground near the chair, and taking some tools he began to arrange the spring, and to try if it would produce the effect intended. Whilst thus occupied he laughed aloud, and said:
"The stupid humpback! One could make him believe that cats laid eggs! He believed all I told him of Bufferio and his comrades as though they were gospel truths. The coward! To empty his pocket of its last farthing, it is only 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 'Silver Dice.' 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 soon as my pocket is full of money. Then at least I will send something to my poor mother. In what condition is she now? Perhaps she no longer lives on earth; that would be better for her. Poor and blind, and her only dependence a son who must conceal his true name in order to escape the gallows; a gambler, drunkard—in a word, a real jail-bird! Yes, if fortune favors me, I will send her something. The signor promised me to have it conveyed to Lucca. Ah! the spring is fixed. Let me see if the machine does its duty."
He rose, placed his hand on the arm of the chair as if about to take his seat in it; suddenly he sprang aside, exclaiming: "Fool that you are, you were 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 have remained clasped in that traitorous chair. But don't I hear some one coming? A key grating in the lock of the garden gate? Yes, it is the Signor Turchi."
Seating himself on the ground before the arm-chair, with his back turned to the door, Julio began to work with apparent eagerness; and in order to assume a greater air of indifference, he sang snatches of a well-known song.
The door opened, and Signor Turchi stood upon the threshold. He remained for an instant motionless, contemplating in silence his servant, who continued his song as though unconscious of the presence of his master.
Simon slowly approached him and laid his hand upon his shoulder; but before he could say a word, Julio drew his dagger from its scabbard, and springing to his feet, made a motion as if to stab his master.
"O cielo, è voi signor?Is it you, signor?" cried Julio. "You slip through the garden like a thief. It is almost dark; an accident might have happened."
"Stop your foolish jesting, Julio. A man does not kill another without finding out with whom he is dealing."
"Do you think so, signor? Why, if five or six men were to take me by surprise, not one would be left alive."
"You speak as if the life of a man were of no more value than that of a bird."
"Less, signor; it is not worth a farthing."
"We will have proof of this," said Simon, in a peculiar tone, as he turned towards the door. "For years I have heard you boasting; this evening I will discover what you are—a brave man or a coward."
Julio drew himself to his full height, put his arms akimbo, and was about to speak, but his master prevented him.
"No useless words!" said Simon, imperiously, "Light the lamp, and come to my bed-room."
He left the room without making any inquiry in regard to the chair, and ascended a winding staircase. Opening the door of a large room, he threw himself upon a chair, and rubbed his brow with his hands like a man tormented by painful thoughts.
After awhile his hands fell upon his knees, and his eyes wandering in feverish agitation through the dim twilight, he muttered:
"At last it is decided! the murder of a friend! He my friend? He is my mortal enemy! Has he not deprived me of Mary's love? Has he not destroyed all my hopes? Has he not devoted me to eternal infamy? His uncle has consented; he will become his partner, the proprietor of an immense fortune, the husband of Mary—of Mary, who was destined by her father to be my wife! He will be powerful, rich, and happy; he will be surrounded by every luxury; he will astonish the world by the magnificence of his style of living, and from the pinnacle of his grandeur he will cast an eye of lawful pride upon Turchi dishonored and ruined! Miserable dog that I am! Deodati will discover that I owe him ten thousand crowns. He will appeal to the courts of justice, and I will be condemned as a rogue; they will discover 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 have planned, I no longer owe him the ten thousand crowns; Mary becomes my wife, 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 may be 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 listen attentively to my words. I am about to talk to you of an important affair."
The red-haired man regarded his master with a malicious and incredulous smile, 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 who pretends to be my friend, but who has secretly been my bitter enemy. He has always artfully calumniated and deceived me, and injured me in my fortune and honor; he has pushed his machinations to such a degree that I will soon be condemned to eternal infamy and misery, unless, by a bold stroke of vengeance, I break through the snares he has laid for my destruction. Be calm, Julio; it does you honor to be inflamed with anger against the enemies of your master; but listen. I discovered, three days ago, that it was this treacherous friend who paid the assassins to inflict the wound of which I still bear the scar on my face. Thus, he first shed my 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 tell you of wonderful exploits."
"Then you would not hesitate to undertake a difficult task?"
"Hesitate! you insult me, signor. I would not hesitate were twenty swords brandished over my head."
"Understand, Julio, that had I doubted your intrepidity, I would not have spoken to you of such grave affairs. I give you the highest proof of confidence by intrusting my vengeance to your hands. I will tell you who is my enemy, and where you can strike him secretly. Kill him, and you shall be liberally recompensed."
This mission appeared unpalatable to Julio.
"Yes," he stammered; "but that is not my way of acting. I will pick a quarrel with your enemy, and if he dares to raise a finger against me, he is 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 can stab him at night without the least danger."
"I? shall I treacherously kill your enemy? This gentleman has never injured me. Since how long has it been the custom for valets to avenge the grievances of their masters? It is your own affair, signor."
"You value the life of a man as little as a farthing, you said," replied Simon Turchi, with bitter irony; "and now you allege the most puerile reasons 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 frame trembled with rage; but by a strong effort he controlled his emotion, and after 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 you well, excused all your faults, your intoxication, your passion for gambling; I have not dismissed you, although you have deserved it a hundred 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 a jest. To-morrow, Julio, you will leave my service. You are a liar and a coward."
"Do not condemn me so severely, signor," said the servant, in a supplicating tone of voice. "I am willing to risk my life a thousand times for you; but to lie in wait for an unknown man and kill him deliberately—this is an infamous crime of which I am not capable."
"Hypocrite!" exclaimed Simon Turchi; "you speak as though I were ignorant of your past history. If a price is set upon your head in the city of Lucca, if at this moment you are under sentence of death, is it not because 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 more unfortunate than guilty. I was upon the spot where the murder was committed, and I was arrested with those who gave the fatal blow. Believe me, I knew nothing of their designs. I do not deny that in a contest or quarrel I spare no one; but up to this moment my dagger has never shed blood 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 should make known to the superintendent of Lucca who is the man I have in my service? Suppose I were to tell him that the real name of Julio Julii is Pietro Mostajo? Who would be bound hand and foot and sent in the hold of a ship of war to expiate his crimes upon a scaffold in Italy?"
Julio turned pale and trembled. He moved restlessly upon his chair, and complained 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 last the servant, disconcerted, exclaimed impulsively:
"Tell me what to do; I am ready!"
"Will you accomplish my orders with unwavering will and without hesitation?"
"I must do so, since you compel me to it! But fear nothing; my decision is made."
"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 a brother? 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 and seek 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 you urge me?" said Julio, in a plaintive tone.
Simon seized his servant by the arm, shook him violently, and whispered hoarsely in his ear: "Pietro Mostajo, remember the superintendent of Lucca!"
Julio, as if stupefied, said not a word.
Simon arose and walked towards the door, saying: "It is well; I will go and 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 I cannot escape. I have never before committed a murder; you take his blood upon yourself, do you not, signor? Tell me when I must accomplish this horrible 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. I will go to bed at the factory under pretence of indisposition; all the servants will know that I have not left my dwelling. Do you put on the old Spanish cape which has been laid aside for five years; no one will then recognize you. You must be in Hoboken Street, near the Dominican Convent, before eleven o'clock. There is at that spot a well which Geronimo must pass both in going and returning. Hide behind the well until Geronimo approaches, then rush upon him and deal him a fatal blow; strike several times. The lute-players are cowards, and they will run away. Take from the dead body of Geronimo a pocket-book which you will find in a pocket on the left side of his doublet; there is in this pocket-book a writing which he took 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 the development of the frightful plot he kept his eyes fixed on his master's lips, 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 his eyes.
"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 have arranged it, appears to me to be fraught with danger to yourself. Suppose that Geronimo should perceive me too soon and defend himself; that by chance the lute-players should be men of courage; that I should be wounded or made prisoner: any of these events might occur. I would certainly be broken on the wheel or burned alive. That, however, would be of little consequence, if by my death I could be useful to you. But I am your servant, and known as such by all your acquaintances; and as I could have no motive of hatred or vengeance against a cavalier who has never spoken an unkind word to me, you would be at once suspected of having ordered the murder."
"And you, I suppose, would betray me?" said Turchi, with bitter irony.
"Betray you, signor? that would not save myself; but under torture my tongue might against my will pronounce your name."
Simon strode up and down the room, muttering between his teeth with suppressed rage. His servant glanced at him stealthily, with an almost imperceptible smile of joy and triumph.
At last Simon stood still in the middle of the room; the scar on his cheek was of a fiery red, and his eyes rolled around restlessly.
"Shall I then be forever ruined? Nothing is left me in the world but misery 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 agitated voice. "Talk no more about it; this evening you must lie in wait for Geronimo and kill him. It is decided; it must be done!"
"I know a means to accomplish your purpose without danger either to you or me, 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 and strength; he is named Bufferio; he will do anything for money; whether it be to beat, wound, or kill a man, it is all the same to him. He fulfils his mission to the satisfaction of his employers, and he never betrays a secret. He has five or six intrepid companions engaged in the same trade as 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 from personal vengeance; besides, he does not know me. Thus neither of us will be suspected nor accused should the affair prove unsuccessful."
Simon seemed surprised by Julio's words, and he remained a few moments in deep thought. By degrees a smile parted his lips; it was evident that the proposed plan met his approval. He opened his purse and put four gold pieces in Julio's hand.
"Is that sufficient?" he asked.
"You jest, signor," replied the servant. "Four gold pieces for the life of a 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 return without 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 your mission skilfully, and I will recompense you largely. But a thought strikes 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 little before ten o'clock you must go to the house of Geronimo and tell him I am ill with fever, and that I have sent you in my place to accompany him armed. Follow him closely, and when he falls, take the pocket-book from him. Tell Bufferio that it is an unimportant document."
Julio made a movement of displeasure on receiving this new order. He had rejoiced 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 subjected to something worse, he did not venture to make any remark.
"Go now," said Simon Turchi, "and get the old Spanish cape. It may serve to disguise you from Bufferio. Gird on a sword also, that Geronimo may think 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 the dark? Are you afraid to go without a light?"
"I might knock my head against the beams, for I have forgotten where the cape 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 when the hood was drawn down it entirely concealed the face.
The master and servant descended the staircase in silence and approached the little garden-gate. There Julio put the lamp upon the ground and extinguished 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.
A black shadow gliding like an almost impalpable spot, might be seen moving along the street of Saint John.
Thick clouds covered the sky. Not a star was visible. Here and there—at the corners of the streets and alleys—flickered a small lamp, lighted before an image of the Virgin; but these slight flames, far from diminishing the obscurity, shone in the foggy atmosphere as glowworms in the woods, which glitter but do not give light.
Silence reigned in the deserted streets. If the inhabitants, behind their oaken windows, heard occasionally some sound interrupting the stillness of the night, it was the hurried step of some benighted artisan who made as much noise as possible with his feet in order to frighten away the robbers; or it was the slow tread of a highwayman, who, listening attentively and peering through the darkness, was on the watch for his prey; or it might be the watchmen, who cried the hour and made the pavement resound under the stroke of their halberds as if to give evil-doers a warning of their approach.
The shadow gliding at this moment along the street of St. John was that of a man completely enveloped in a large cloak, his head so covered by the hood that his eyes alone were visible. As in passing before an image of the Virgin a feeble ray from a lamp fell upon him, one might have seen as he 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 narrow winding alley, from beneath the ground of which seemed to proceed the confused noise of many voices.
The man stopped at the entrance of a cellar, to which admission was gained by 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 theSilver Dice!" said he, sighing. "How merry they are! The dice are rolling upon the table. Shall I not risk a shilling? Only one?"
Yielding to the irresistible temptation, he placed his foot upon the ladder; but a sudden thought seemed to arrest him. He sprang back, trembling, and hastened from the cellar. A little farther in the street he stopped and murmured in an anxious voice:
"Heavens! what was I about to do? Risk the money upon dice? I would certainly have lost the whole. Pietro Mostajo, do not forget the Superintendent of Lucca! I am saved. Infernal temptation! I was about to stake my head. But, perhaps, I would not be unlucky. I might win a fortune. The temptation returns. No, no, I must go seek Bufferio, and I have 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 stopped near the pump, and said in an undertone:
"Bufferio lives here. How dark it is! I can hardly see the door; but I am not mistaken. Here the terrible ruffian has his lair. Strange, how I tremble! 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. What shall 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 as he 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 for the dead.
A long time passed, and no noise within gave evidence that his call was heeded.
The visitor became still more terrified in the supposition, that no one was 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 two inquisitive eyes endeavored to pierce the darkness in order to recognize the 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 his ear made him tremble violently. However, he soon controlled himself and replied 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 not choose to tell my name."
"You are an agent of the bailiff, and you wish to deceive me. Go on your way and leave me in peace. Bufferio is not at home."
The man took some pieces of silver from his pocket and rattled them together.
"You are mistaken, woman. I have need of the services of Bufferio for an important affair. He may gain a few crowns of gold. I come with the cash in 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 the staircase, she said:
"Your hand trembles, signor. Are you afraid?"
"I afraid!" said the other, in a faltering voice. "Afraid of what? The darkness makes me totter."
"It may be, signor; but I thought your hand was cold and trembling. Here is the staircase; now follow me."
The man ascended the staircase behind her, stumbling up the well-worn steps, striking his head and elbows against invisible objects, and grumbling 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 her companion into a room lighted by the smoking flame of an iron lamp. She showed him a miserable chair, and said:
"Sit down, signor, if you please, and wait a while. I will go call Bufferio, he is engaged at play in the neighborhood. Should any one knock at the door during my absence, pay no attention to it; I will lock the door on the outside and take the key with me."
The man looked at her surprised and troubled. Her bony limbs, the gray locks which fell upon her cheeks, her large mouth and long teeth, made her appear to his eyes a hideous being, a worthy companion for Bufferio.
He listened to the sound of her receding steps, until he heard the key grate in the lock of the door.
Then he looked around him and examined with mistrust and surprise the apartment of Bufferio and the objects it contained.
The room was neither well furnished nor clean: a table, three rickety chairs, an oaken bench, a few earthenware vessels near the fireplace, and a bed, constituted all the furniture. It was not, however, these common objects which fixed the gaze of the visitor. What he could not see without shuddering, was the number of strange arms suspended all around the walls of the room. In the midst of rusty swords, sharp daggers and knives of every size and shape, he saw short clubs with iron heads, steel chains like the bit of a horse, ropes with running knots, and various other articles whose use was inexplicable to him, although he was convinced that these singular instruments were intended for no good purpose.
On the table, beside the lamp, was a large knife, and near it a piece of linen and some sand for scouring, showing that the woman had been occupied in cleaning these arms when the knock at the door interrupted her.
All these instruments of murder filled with terror the heart of the man who was contemplating them. He turned his eyes away from them, trembling as he reflected upon the horror of his position. However, a few moments only were left him, for the door of the house soon opened and he heard steps on the staircase.
The woman entered and said:
"Bufferio will soon be here. When he has the dice in his hand, it is difficult to tear him away. Nevertheless, he will come. I think, signor, that he has drank deeply. Look well to yourself, and if you value your life, do not irritate him, for he would make as little scruple of maltreating you as he would of crushing a worm. Apart from that, he is the best man in the world."
She seated herself at the table, took up the knife and linen, and continued her occupation, whilst observing the stranger with a suspicious eye.
He had pulled the hood of the cloak over his face and seated himself in silence, fixing his eye vaguely upon space, like a man wearied by long waiting. He was deeply agitated, and from time to time his whole frame shook. Every time that he glanced towards the table he met the penetrating look of the frightful Megæra, who, while continuing to clean the blade of the large knife, considered him from head to foot, and seemed endeavoring to discover who he was and with what intention he had come.
At last, no longer able to resist his feeling of anxiety, he rose and said:
"Woman, show me the way out. I have not time to wait longer. I will return to-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 back in his chair, with a suppressed sigh, and listened in an agony of fear to the heavy footsteps on the staircase.
Bufferio appeared at the door, and looked distrustfully at the man who had interrupted him at his game.
The ruffian Bufferio was of giant build. He was obliged to stoop in order to enter the door. His head was thrown back defiantly, and his hand rested upon the hilt of a dagger which was held by his girdle. A broad-brimmed hat shaded his face; his whole dress was of dark-brown cloth, scarcely distinguishable in the darkness of night. Under his prominent eyebrows twinkled very small eyes, and a cruel, withering smile played about his mouth.
He made an imperious gesture to the woman and pointed to the door. She left the room grumbling, but gave no other evidence of dissatisfaction.
The ruffian shut the door, took a chair, and said to the stranger, in a rough 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 before doing me a service for which I will pay you liberally?"
On hearing these words, the ruffian struck his forehead with his hand, as if he thought he recognized the voice of the visitor; but he did not stop to reflect longer.
"Come tell me quickly what you want; they are waiting for me at the tavern of theSilver 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 you beat about the bush in this manner? What embarrasses you? Do you think you are dealing with a dishonest man? Fear nothing. Not a hair of your head shall be touched in my house."
This assurance restored the stranger's confidence, and he said, in a more steady voice:
"Signor Bufferio, you must know that I have an enemy who insults and outrages 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 of service you desire. A few blows with a stick, a scratch on the face, do not 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 bridgeDe la Vignewith 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 in the least displeased, but said, in an encouraging tone:
"Be calm; you need not be disturbed because I know who you are. My trade is to keep the most important affairs secret. Fear nothing, I will not betray you."
It was some minutes before Julio had recovered himself sufficiently to speak.
"I am sorry that you know my name," said he; "but no matter. I desire to know, Signor Bufferio, what price you demand for ridding me forever of my enemy?"
"Your enemy?" said the ruffian, laughing. "A gentleman your enemy? You are still endeavoring to deceive me. You mean your master's enemy?"
"No, my personal enemy, who has calumniated me to my master, and who has striven to have me ignominiously discharged."
"And you offer me golden crowns? How long is it since servants became possessed of such treasures? You request to have a mortal wound inflicted upon a gentleman? Well, you must give me fifteen gold crowns."
"Fifteen crowns!" exclaimed Julio, with assumed astonishment. "So large a sum! 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 you or 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 Portuguese sailor; 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 the convent of the Dominicans; he will turn the corner at Prince Street, and will proceed towards the church of St. James. He will thus be obliged to pass before the stone well at the head of Hoboken Street. You will conceal yourself behind the well with two or three faithful companions, and as the young gentleman passes, you will attack and kill him."
"The affair has been well planned," remarked the ruffian. "I could manage it by myself; but since you desire it, I will take with me a couple of my brave companions. How will I recognize the one I am to strike?"
"His dress is entirely brown, and his cap is ornamented with a white plume; 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, and when he falls, I will take from his person a writing, which, if it were discovered, might involve me in great danger. You will recognize me by this Spanish cape, and I will cry out very loud, that you and your men may know 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 them out one by one, until he held twelve in his hand. He endeavored to conceal from the ruffian that he possessed more than the sum agreed upon; but Bufferio must have suspected his intention, for he smiled, and said in a decided manner:
"You have more gold crowns. I knew it from the first; people do not generally 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 the lamp, examined and weighed each piece of gold, and then said:
"It is good coin. Have no anxiety, Julio, I will go for my comrades. There is but little time left—only a good half hour."
Julio took leave of the ruffian, and was about to quit the room, but he stopped and said: "Signor Bufferio, you will not tell your companions who requested this service of you?"
"I tell nothing to my companions. The proverb says, If you wish to lose your 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 young gentleman with a white plume in his hat. Be quiet, I myself will deal the blow, and I will not miss the mark."
"Adieu, Bufferio."
"Adieu, Julio."
The ruffian accompanied the servant to the lower story, opened the door of the street, and closed it behind him.
When Julio found himself in the open air, he walked a short distance, then stopped, drew a long breath as if a heavy weight had fallen from his shoulders, and said, joyously:
"Heavens! what an escape! I doubt if I am really alive. The difficult affair is at last concluded. The signor says that I am a coward. I would like to see him in that room with that infernal woman and the terrible Bufferio. Now I must go to Geronimo. My greatest difficulty is yet to come. If I get through it successfully, I may well say that I was born under a lucky star. But I cannot tarry, I have still a long distance to walk."
He quickened his pace and soon reached the street on which the Dominican Convent stood; he passed the Abbey of Saint Michael and the Mint, and entered the grand square without being molested.
On the way he kept his hand in his pocket, that he might enjoy the pleasure of passing the gold coin through his fingers. He muttered to himself that he had gained three gold crowns which his master would never see again, were he to live a hundred years. Once free from his present care and anxiety, he would take his seat at a gaming-table, where he would remain all day, and perhaps he could win heaps of gold.
Absorbed in these thoughts, he reached Geronimo's residence and knocked at the door. It was soon opened, and he was conducted into a room on the ground floor, where the young gentleman, in his cap and cloak, seemed to be waiting the arrival of friends.
"Peace be to this house!" said Julio, bowing. "Signor, I bring you a message which I would deliver with more pleasure were it less sad. My poor master is ill with fever, and is unable to leave his bed. He begs you to excuse him from accompanying you to-night to the serenade."
Geronimo's countenance assumed an expression of deep compassion. The young man concluded that his own happiness, his approaching marriage with Miss Van de Werve, had touched the heart of his poor friend, and that his present 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 not venture 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 his indisposition; he directed me to accompany you to the serenade, and to protect you in case of danger. He knows how courageous I am, and that were five or six to attack you, I would not flee before them."
"I accept your services, Julio. You always seemed to me to be a devoted servant. The lute-players have not yet arrived. Go to the kitchen and tell the cook to give you a pint of beer."
Julio went to the kitchen, but found the cook asleep. He awoke him, gave him his master's order, and received the pint of beer.
He expected, while drinking, to talk with the servant, and he had commenced speaking of quarrels, combats, knives, and the heroic deeds in which he had been the actor, but the servant had scarcely seated himself before he fell again into a deep sleep. Julio emptied his glass in silence, until a knock at the door and the sound of stringed instruments announced the arrival of the lute-players.
Geronimo called him, and on entering the ante-chamber he found Geronimo ready to go out with the lute-players.
Julio was troubled on remarking that these latter were armed. If these people were brave men, Bufferio and his comrades would have to deal with an equal number of adversaries. Who could foresee the termination of the struggle? However, he felt reassured on reflecting that Geronimo and the lute-players, being attacked unexpectedly, would not have time to defend themselves.
They left the house together, passed the Dominican Convent, and soon reached Prince Street, at the upper end of which was the stone well behind which 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 to appear bold and intrepid; he now commenced to fall back, and placed himself in the rear. His heart failed him; for, however well the plans had 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 heart sorrow, tossing on a bed of suffering, while he was on his way to serenade his beloved Mary. He also, in his own mind, deplored the involved condition of Simon's business affairs, and determined to save him, even at the cost of great personal sacrifices, as soon as his marriage would render him independent.
What would the young cavalier have thought had he known that at a few steps, distance from him, three assassins, hired by Simon Turchi, were lying in wait to kill him. But no, his mind was filled with compassion and affectionate feelings for his cruel enemy.
The little band was not far from Hoboken Street; Julio gazed fixedly into the darkness to discover if any one was near the well.
Suddenly he perceived a dark shadow advancing. Trembling in an agony of fear, and in order to make himself known to the ruffians, Julio suddenly drew 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 put upon his guard by this exclamation, Geronimo drew his sword, and placed his back against the wall of the house that he might not be assailed from behind.
The lute-players, screaming from fright, ran away, and Julio stood in the middle of the street brandishing his sword.
All this had passed almost instantaneously after the first alarm given by Julio. The man whom he had seen coming from the well, followed by two companions, rushed to the side of the street where Geronimo had made a stand to defend himself. The assassin, who was in advance of the two others, fell upon Geronimo and gave him a sword-thrust which he supposed pierced his body; but a skilful movement parried the blow, and the aggressor himself fell with such force upon Geronimo's sword that the blade passed through his body.
The assassin fell heavily, and in a plaintive voice, as though bidding adieu to life, exclaimed:
"O mojo!I die! Bufferio is dead!"
Disregarding the villain who had fallen, the gentleman rushed upon the other two and wounded one in the shoulder. Convinced that they had to deal with a powerful and skilful adversary, they turned and fled, Geronimo pursuing them far beyond the well.
Julio followed him, crying, vociferating, and striking with his sword in the dark, as though he were contending with numerous enemies. When Geronimo returned with the servant to the spot where he had left the dead body of the ruffian, he found three or four watchmen calling for help. Many heads were thrust from the windows, and one citizen even ventured out of his house with a lamp in his hand.
The watchmen, having inquired as to what had taken place, examined the body to see if there were any signs of life.
"Leave him!" said one; "it is Bufferio. God be praised! the man has at last met the fate which he deserved."
In the meantime, Julio had commenced to boast. He related that he had to deal with two assassins at once, that he had wounded one in the face, and pierced the other with his sword. How the latter had been able to run away, was unaccountable; no doubt he would be found near at hand, dead or dying.
The young gentleman, who really believed the story of Turchi's servant, thanked him for his assistance, and acknowledged that he owed his life to him, as he had given the warning of the approach of the assassins.
The dead body was removed behind the well until the city authorities should 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 some other accident might befall you. Do not refuse the offer. The villains who escaped might be on the watch for you, in order to avenge the death of their companions."
"What shall I do?" said the gentleman to Julio. "I cannot give the serenade without the lute-players, and, besides, I could not sing after such 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 better for me to see Mr. Van de Werve, so as to remove any cause of anxiety. I accept your offer, watchmen, and I will liberally recompense the services you render me. I must return to Kipdorp, and you will do me the favor to wait a few minutes, in order to accompany me to my dwelling. Follow me."