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  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 elite 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 noblefo
reigners. 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.