The last words of this prayer had scarcely fallen from his lips, when he cried aloud, arose trembling, and eagerly fixed his eyes upon the opposite wall, upon which a faint streak of light flickered.

“O my God! what means this?” he exclaimed.  “Light? light? a voice?  Is some one coming?  Is there still hope?  I shall not die!  Cruel dream!  Frightful illusion!  But no, it is indeed a light; it becomes brighter.  I hear a human voice.  Alas! this suspense is worse than death!”

Tottering from weakness, and supporting himself by the sides of the wall, he gained the door, and trembling between hope and fear, he put his eye to the keyhole in order to discover who was approaching his person.

He saw in the distance a man with a lamp in his hand; but his gestures were so strange, and his countenance so singular, that he was at a loss to know whether it were a human being, or only a creation of his own disordered brain.

Still he heard confused sounds in the passage; a voice seemed to complain, curse, and call for aid.

By degrees the mysterious apparition drew nearer, and Geronimo recognized the servant of Simon Turchi; but why was Julio writhing in such horrible convulsions?  Why was his face so horribly contorted?  Why did he threaten and rage in such harsh accents?

A horrible conviction forced itself upon Geronimo’s mind.  Julio had sought in drink the courage necessary to accomplish the work which fate exacted of him.  He had thus drowned his senses, and had come now to slay his victim without mercy.

The thought for the moment roused his fears; but he remembered that he had just offered to God his life in expiation of his sins.  He retired to the other side of the cellar, knelt by the side of the grave, and with a smile upon his lips and his eyes lifted to heaven, he calmly awaited the fatal blow.

He heard Julio trying to insert the key in the lock as if his hand were unsteady.  He noticed that there was no finger in his tone of voice; on the contrary, the cries which escaped him were rather those of alarm and distress; but before he had time for reflection the door opened.

Julio put down the lamp as if his strength had entirely failed him, and fell upon the ground, exclaiming in a supplicating voice: 

“O signor, help, help!  I am poisoned!  A burning fire consumes me!  Take pity on me!  For the love of God, deliver me from this torture!”

“Poisoned!” exclaimed Geronimo, hastening to Julio.  “What has happened to you?  The mark of death is on your face!”

“Simon Turchi gave me last night poisoned wine, in order to destroy the witness who could prove your death by his hand.  He made me pay Bufferio to assassinate you.  He wishes to marry Mary Van de Werve, and he desires to remove any cause of fear that his happiness may be disturbed.  Ah! the poison consumes me!”

“Tell me, Julio, what I can do for your relief.”