me!"

"Tell me, Julio, what I can do for your relief."

Saying this, he knelt by Julio, and threw open his doublet to give him
air:

"Thanks, thanks, O my God! here is bread!" exclaimed Geronimo, almost wild
with joy, and snatching with feverish haste the small loaf which Julio had
concealed, and which he had entirely forgotten since his fatal stupor.

The young man, absorbed in satisfying his devouring hunger, no longer
heeded Julio's complaints, but having soon appeased its cravings, he took
his hands, saying:

"I bless you, Julio, and may the omnipotent God reward you in heaven. Tell
me what I can do to save you. Set me at liberty, and I will fly for
physician and priest. The keys--quick, the keys!"

"Alas!" said Julio, in a hopeless voice, "my cruel murderer took from me
the keys of the door. We are shut up in the building. But I cannot die
thus, consumed by poison, without confession, without hope of pardon for
my soul! Go up-stairs, signor, call aloud, break open the door, wrest the
iron bars from the windows. Collect all your strength, take pity on me and
help me!"

Geronimo seized the keys, and, lighted by the lamp, he hastily traversed
the subterranean passage, and mounted the staircase.

The gray dawn was appearing in the east, but to the eyes of the young man
so long accustomed to utter darkness it was almost as bright as noonday.

Convinced that Julio's condition demanded immediate aid, Geronimo hastily
tried all the keys in the exterior door, pulled all the bolts, endeavored
to wrench the door from the hinges, and worked with so much energy that at
last he fell from weakness.

Taking a short rest, he arose, threw up the windows, shook the iron bars,
ran up-stairs and called aloud for help. But all his efforts were
useless--the pavilion was too far removed from any habitation to permit
him to indulge the hope that his voice, weak as it was, could be heard.

In running through the building--almost maddened by despair--to seek an
outlet, he entered the kitchen, where he perceived a vessel full of water.
The sight filled him with joy. Perhaps water, taken in large quantities,
might deaden the effects of the poison and save Julio's life. At any rate,
he had no other remedy, and as it was his only hope, he grasped at it as
if it were an inspiration from heaven.

Filling a pitcher, he ran with it to the cellar, and radiant with joy,
approached Julio, who had barely strength to ask in a feeble voice: