Geronimo uttered a cry of despair, crawled back to the side of the grave, and fell exhausted on the ground, where he bewept his sad fate.

His stifled sobs were so heart-breaking that Julio’s soul was stirred within him, and without being conscious of it, he wiped away the tears which fell from his eyes.

In a voice full of compassion he said: 

“Come, signor, be calm, and submit with resignation to the irrevocable decree of fate.  When one has lived like you in the fear of God, honorably and loyally, death is but the passage to a better life.”

A cry of indignation mingled with the convulsive sobs of the young gentleman.

“I understand you,” said Julio; “you think that my pity is a cruel irony; you believe me to be inhuman.  Even in the tomb you might justly call down maledictions on the head of the murderer who of his own will and choice would deprive you of life.  But, alas! signor, I have neither will nor choice in the matter.  To-morrow the officers of justice will search this house and cellar.”

“To-morrow!” exclaimed Geronimo, a new hope-springing up in his heart.

“If I let you live, they would infallibly find you here,” pursued Julio.  “This hope inspires you with joy; vain hope! signor, for should it be realized, my master would perish on the scaffold, and I would expiate my crime on the gallows!”

“Julio,” said Geronimo, beseechingly, “I will remove all suspicion from you; I will declare you innocent; I will reward you magnificently.”

“It would be useless, signor.  The law knows no mercy.  My master would betray the part I had in the deed; and do you think the judges would pardon me for having pushed you into the chair?”

“Save me, spare my life, Julio; and if necessary for your acquittal, I will kneel to the bailiff, I will appeal to the emperor himself.”

“There is another reason, unknown to you, signor,” replied Julio, bitterly.  “I am a fugitive, condemned to death by the laws of Italy.  My master alone knows my real name.  The least infidelity on my part would make him deliver me into the hands of those who for five years have been seeking me.  Think you, then, that it is in my power to spare you?  It is my own and my master’s death you demand.  And what a death!  For him, the axe of the executioner and eternal infamy to his family; for me, the rack, the wheel, the gallows.  Do not blame me then, signor; do not contend against implacable fate; employ your last moments in prayer, or tell me that you are ready to receive the mortal blow.  Nothing can save you; that open tomb tells you a sad but pitiless truth.  Again I beg you, signor, lift up your heart to God, and do not force me to make use of sudden violence.”

“Die so young and guiltless!” lamented Geronimo.  “Never again to see the light of heaven!  O Mary, my beloved! how you will deplore my fate!  My poor uncle! sorrow will bring your gray hairs to the grave!”