He thrust his hand into his doublet, and drew from it slowly a small phial half filled with a yellow liquid, and held it before him with a shudder of disgust and horror.

“Poison, deadly poison!” he muttered.  “He who has the courage to take a few drops will sleep a sweet sleep from which there is no awakening.  And is this my only refuge from the ignominy of the scaffold?  Instead of wealth and happiness, is a miserable death to be the price of my crime?  No, no; I must chase away these horrible thoughts.”

He replaced the phial in his doublet, and abandoned himself again to his dark reflections; but at last he conquered, in a measure, his dejection, and he said, less despairingly but still sorrowfully: 

“And yet everything was going on so smoothly!  I had recovered my note; the possession of the ten thousand crowns enabled me to conceal for the present the ruined condition of my affairs; Mary did not appear indifferent to me, and Geronimo being out of the way, I was certain of succeeding with her in the course of time.  I would in that case become rich and powerful; her dowry would be sufficient to save me from poverty and a humiliating discovery.  Alas! why do the people accuse the magistrates of want of zeal?  Things more surprising than the disappearance of Geronimo have happened lately without any disturbance among the populace.  It was the public feeling that forced the bailiff to make extraordinary efforts to discover what had become of him; it will be the cause of my destruction!  Can there be a mysterious impulse to this unwonted excitement of the multitude?  Vainly then would I struggle to escape!  Would it not be God himself pursuing me?”

The recurrence of this thought struck terror to the soul of Simon Turchi, and he buried his head in his hands.  Suddenly he started up, and although his lips twitched convulsively, he said, in a firm, strong voice: 

“Ah! ah! fatality is a spur which inspires the most cowardly with coinage.  Avaunt, foolish fears!  I must struggle on to the end.  The bailiff seeks a corpse; he pledges his honor to discover one.  Let him find it!  Suppose he should find it elsewhere than in my summer-house? in a sewer, for example?  Ah! anxiety had clouded my mind!  Still, still, I have means for triumph!  Oh, if Julio-would come!  Could I only imagine in what tavern the rascal is gambling, I would send Bernardo for him.”

Saying these words, he approached the window and looked out.

“There comes the loiterer!  He walks as composedly as if nothing weighed upon his conscience!  He cares not for the preservation of my honor and my life; since the death of Geronimo he hates and despises me.  I must appear angry and indignant, for should he suspect the fear and anxiety torturing my soul, he would be insolent, and perhaps would laugh at my anguish.”

As Julio approached the house, Simon attracted his attention by loud talking, and having succeeded in this, he made signs of his impatience and anger until Julio reached the door.  He then closed the window, and assuming an expression of rage he turned to meet his servant.