“Of course, on the way you stopped at the Camel, and drank some pots of Hamburg beer?  Did you bring me as much as a pint?” asked the man with the red 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.”