“Now I see my way clearly.  I will save you, signor; but in doing that, I might as well avoid securing a halter for myself.  You must have patience until to-morrow.  It is now about nine o’clock in the evening, and the time, I know, will be very long to you.  But you must submit to a condition which is necessary for the preservation of my own life.  To-morrow, at daybreak, I shall quit the city and country.  Before leaving, I will set you at liberty.  Do not attempt to shake my resolution; let me go now, signor, and expect with confidence your deliverance.”

Geronimo joined his hands, and said, feebly: 

“Thanks, thanks, and may the good God show you the mercy you have shown to me!  I have yet a favor to implore, a benefit to ask.”

“Speak, signor, what do you wish?”

“It is long since I awoke from my death-like stupor.  I know not how long, and I am tormented by hunger and thirst; you have kept life in me by the wine so kindly bestowed, but now my body demands nourishment.  Give me bread.”

“Bread!” said Julio, “there is not a mouthful of food in the house.”

But seeing Geronimo’s eyes fixed in supplication upon him, he added: 

“It is not late; perhaps I may find some shop still open.  I will return presently; remain quiet, and have no anxiety, signor.”

He took the lamp, left the cellar, closing the door after him, and ascended to his room.  There folding his arms, he began to muse: 

“How strange! the young merchant who, at the risk of his own life, defended my mother from her Moslem master, who paid her ransom, and liberated her from slavery—­that merchant was Geronimo!  By some mysterious influence the amulet protected his heart from the blade of his vindictive enemy; and when I am about to shed his blood, behold, the amulet paralyzes my arm.  It is incomprehensible!”

The current of his thoughts changed.  Seizing the half empty bottle, he drank its contents.

“Strange,” said he, “how the bad effects of liquor are controlled by the emotions!  I have taken enough to deprive me of consciousness, and I feel my mind as clear as though I had not touched a drop.  This last draught, however, has mounted to my brain.  So it is decreed that my master, Simon Turchi, must die upon the scaffold?  It is disagreeable for both of us, but I could not help it.  I shall not know what to do when the two hundred crowns are spent; necessity will force me to seek other resources, even at the risk of the gallows, and in all probability the fatal noose will encircle my neck.  Bah! if it is predestined, who can prevent it?  My master and I will receive only what we deserve.  But I am forgetting the starving young gentleman; I must go out to procure him some food.  It will be a fine opportunity to drink a pint of wine at the Swan; that cannot be closed yet, for gamblers do not keep early hours.  Only one pint in passing! not more, for if my reason became clouded, I cannot answer for the consequences; but there is no need to fear that, for my life is at stake.  I will return in half an hour.”