moment silent, absorbed in thought. Then
taking the hand of the young man, he said to him: "I did not know you
before, Geronimo. I hope it may be in my power to prove to you how much
your generosity ennobles you and elevates you in my esteem; but although
your confidence in the amulet rests on so laudable a sentiment, I would
not rely too much upon it. You know the proverb says: 'Help yourself, and
Heaven will help you.'"

"Do not suppose, Mr. Van de Werve, that on that account I would be guilty
of any foolish imprudence. I know that the eye and sword are good
sentinels. When I pass through the streets at night, I am always well
accompanied, and my hand never leaves the hilt of my sword. Therefore have
no anxiety on this point, and permit me to perform my duty to her to whom
I owe homage and respect."

At that moment the painted--glass windows trembled under the stroke of a
large clock from some neighboring belfry. This suddenly turned Mary's
thoughts into another channel.

"The clock of St. James is striking ten," she said.

"Father, will you walk with me to the dock-yard to see if any new ships
have arrived?"

"What is the hour of high tide?" her father asked Geronimo.

"At noon," he replied.

"Why need we go so soon to the dock-yard?" asked the old cavalier. "Many
days may yet pass before the _Il Salvatore_ appears in the Scheldt. Do not
fear, Mary, that the Signor Deodati will take us by surprise. Don Pezoa,
the agent of the king of Portugal, has given orders that I shall be
notified as soon as the galley we are awaiting is signaled in the river,
at noon."

He was interrupted by the entrance of a servant, who announced that the
Chevalier John Van Schoonhoven,[8] the bailiff, desired to speak with him.

Geronimo was about to withdraw, but Mr. Van de Werve said to him,
cordially:

"Remain, signor; I will send Petronilla, Mary's duenna as a companion for
her; the interview with the Chevalier Schoonhoven may not detain me long.
We will afterwards go to the dock-yard, and we will at least enjoy the
fine weather. Stay, I beg you."

Hardly had he left the hall when an old woman entered, and seated herself
near the door. She drew a chaplet from her pocket, and commenced praying
in a low voice. This was apparently an habitual act with her, for neither
the young girl nor the young man took the least notice of the duenna.

Mary approached her lover, and said, gaily: "Rejoice, Geronimo! My father
has just promise