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 a stoop[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.