“Yes; but for some time my master has been very melancholy, and nothing seems to give him pleasure.”

“I know it, Julio; but things will be better for him now.”

“Would that your words were true, signor!”

“What a heavy sigh, Julio.  You excite my fears.  Is your master ill?”

The servant felt the importance of self-control, if he would not arouse the gentleman’s suspicions.  He therefore said, in a careless manner: 

“Nothing is the matter, signor.  My master is very well, and to-day is in a good humor.  Ever since I saw Bufferio’s sword lifted against you, I have suffered from an occasional sudden palpitation of the heart.  I find relief only in a deep sigh.”

As they thus talked together, he conducted Geronimo to the room containing the large arm-chair.

“Signor Geronimo,” he said, “my master is up-stairs.  I will inform him of your arrival.  Please be seated.”

Julio left the room; but instead of ascending the staircase, he hid himself behind a door and listened attentively to hear the clasping of the springs of the chair.

After having waited in vain, for a long time, he returned to the room, and said to the gentleman: 

“Signor, my master begs you to excuse him for a while.  He is engaged transacting some business with the merchant of whom he spoke to you yesterday.  They are preparing a writing for you.  Have the kindness to wait a few moments.”

He now thought that Geronimo would, of his own accord, take the arm-chair, and with a beating heart he observed his movements.  But he was disappointed, for the young cavalier stood at the window, gazing thoughtfully into the garden.

Although Julio knew with what mistrust and impatience his master was counting each passing moment, he said to Geronimo, with assumed indifference: 

“It is at least half a mile from the Dominican Convent to this place, and you must be fatigued after your walk.  Will you not rest in this arm-chair, signor?”

“No, I thank you.  I am not in the least fatigued.  I love to look at those beautiful trees clothed in their fresh May verdure.”

An involuntary movement of impatience escaped the servant.

“You need not remain here on my account, Julio,” said Geronimo.  “Go to your work; I will stay alone.”

“I have no urgent occupation, signor.  If I still remain, contrary to your wish, it is to ask you a question; and yet I fear that you will be displeased at my boldness.”

“Not at all, Julio.  Can I render you any service?  It will give me pleasure to show my gratitude for the courage with which you defended me when I was attacked by the ruffians.”

“I had no reference to that.  I heard you were about to marry the beautiful Miss Van de Werve.  The news rejoiced me; but may your humble servant make free to ask you if it be true?”

The name of his betrothed flushed his cheek with joy, and he answered, with a smile: