ble
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!"

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