“I awoke to consciousness,” continued Geronimo, “in a dark dungeon; I was lying beside a grave which had been dug to receive my remains.  When Julio returned to bury my corpse, he found me living.  He was about to kill me, but he recognized the amulet I wore around my neck, and I was saved.  The old blind woman who gave me the amulet as a recompense for delivering her from the hands of the Moslems was Julio’s mother.  Last night Signor Turchi gave poisoned wine to Julio, who died in my arms, declaring to me that Signor Turchi hired Bufferio to assassinate me.  I labored for hours before I succeeded in obtaining egress from the garden.  Now behold me saved from a frightful death through the miraculous protection of God, and restored to all that is dear to me on earth!”

The bailiff’s voice was heard, issuing his commands, in the vestibule.  Turchi comprehended the order.  He cast himself on his knees, extended his hands, and weeping, cried out: 

“Oh!  Messire Van Schoonhoven,—­Geronimo,—­I have been guilty of a frightful crime.  I deserve your hatred, your contempt and death; but have pity on me!  Spare me the shame of the scaffold; do not cover my family with eternal infamy.  Exile me to the ends of the earth; but pardon, pardon, deliver me not to the executioner!”

Five officers of justice appeared at the door.

“What are your commands?” asked the chief.

“Bind the signor’s hands behind his back!”

“Heavens! bind my hands like a thief!” exclaimed Turchi.

“Bind the hands of a nobleman?” repeated the chief in surprise.

“Execute my order immediately!  This nobleman is an infamous robber and a cowardly assassin.  Cast him in the deepest dungeon; he shall pay the penalty of his crime upon the scaffold.”

The command was promptly obeyed, and Turchi, in spite of his resistance, was dragged from the room followed by the bailiff.

Mary and Geronimo wept with joy.  Deodati claimed their attention saying: 

“My dear children, let us fulfil a sacred duty of gratitude.  God has so visibly protected innocence that the feeling of His presence in our midst overpowers me.  Your hopes will become a reality.  Let us pray!”

He knelt before the crucifix, bowed his head and joined his hands.

Geronimo and Mary knelt beside the old man, Mr. Van de Werve behind them.

For a long time they lifted their grateful hearts in thanksgiving to the
God of goodness.

CHAPTER XIII.

MARY VAN DE WERVE’S (NOW MADAME GERONIMO DEODATI) DEPARTURE FOR ITALY—­THE
PUNISHMENT OF SIMON TURCHI.

It was six o’clock in the morning.

The height of the sun indicated that the warm season of summer had replaced the mild month of May.  It was apparently a festival day at Antwerp, for through all the gates people poured from the surrounding country into the city.  The streets were filled with persons of all ages, who, talking and laughing, hastened to the centre of the city, as though they anticipated some magnificent spectacle.