e you going, signor?" said the bailiff.

"I was going to take a walk along the Scheldt, in order to seek some
diversion to the grief I feel for the disappearance of the unfortunate
Geronimo."

"What I have to say, signor, need not interfere with your walk. I will
accompany you a part of the way and enjoy with you the evening breeze."

The bailiff turned and walked by Turchi's side.

Looking around, to assure himself that they were not overheard, Messire
Van Schoonhoven said:

"The affair in question would not require so many precautions were I not
bailiff and you my friend. But in consequence of these two reasons, my
mission becomes painful, and I must claim in advance your forbearance. You
know that my agents are searching every house, building, and garden in the
vicinity of the Hospital Grounds where Geronimo was last seen. The
greatest part of this quarter has been carefully examined without any
result."

Simon Turchi perfectly understood the bailiff's design, and although his
heart beat painfully, he mastered his emotion, and said in an indifferent
tone:

"And you think, Messire Van Schoonhoven, that my garden should be searched
in like manner? It is very natural. No one is above the law--the knight
and the peasant are there equal."

"Believe me, signor, that the thought of so disrespectful a conduct
towards an honorable nobleman, and that nobleman my friend for years,
would never have occurred to me. But the search became a necessity without
any fault of mine. The presence of at least twenty of my agents in that
quarter attracted the curious. A crowd followed those engaged in the
search, and when it was noticed that your summer-house was the only one
exempted, the magistrates were openly accused of injustice. The people
were told that this was done by my order; but so great was the commotion
that the affair reached the ears of the burgomaster and the constables,
and these gentlemen waited on me, urging me to visit your garden likewise,
so as to remove all cause of complaint."

"This explanation is wholly unnecessary, at least as far as regards
myself," interrupted Simon Turchi. "I desire you to search my
country-house as you do all the other dwellings in the vicinity."

They were not far from the bridge of Meir, and they ceased speaking, as in
so frequented a place they were in danger of being overheard. Farther on,
Turchi said:

"I acknowledge, however, that I am hurt and irritated by the disrespect