This recognition struck Geronimo with terror, and in a feeble and

discouraged voice he said: "Julio, Julio, you pushed me into the chair!"

Then seeing the dagger in Julio's hands, he shuddered.

"A dagger in your hand! Ah! you come to kill me?"

"Yes, signor," replied Julio, sadly, "I come to take your life; but do not

suppose I fulfil this fatal mission without emotion; on the contrary, my

heart bleeds for you, and I feel an indescribable repugnance to deal the

fatal blow."

"Ah! you are not merciless; you will have pity on me," said Geronimo.

"Impossible!" replied Julio. "Fatality governs us both; it has irrevocably

condemned you to death, and me to inhumanity. All prayer, all supplication

is useless; nothing can save your life. I beg you, signor, not to increase

the difficulties of my task; accept with resignation a fate you cannot

escape."

A sharp cry escaped Geronimo, as these unfeeling words convinced him that

all hope was lost.

"My God!" he exclaimed, "is it then true that this dungeon is to become my

tomb? Must I die without confession? Shall my body lie in unconsecrated

ground? Oh, mercy! mercy!"

"Necessity is a merciless law, signor," replied Julio, "and I have more

cause than you to complain of its harshness. You, at least, will receive

in heaven the recompense of your innocent life, while I must commit here a

crime from which I recoil with horror, but which is forced upon me by an

irresistible power, and for which my poor soul will stand accused before

the judgment-seat of God. But do not cherish a deceitful hope; there is no

hope for you. Before I depart from here, that grave must receive your

body. That I did not immediately on entering fulfil my sad mission is

partly owing to the fact that an uncontrollable compassion paralyzed my

arm, but still more, to my desire to afford you time to say some prayers.

Therefore prepare your soul for its last passage. I will wait patiently

even for a quarter of an hour. Pray with a tranquil mind--I will not

strike without giving notice."

Saying these words, Julio put down the lamp replaced his dagger in its

scabbard, and seated himself on a block of wood which was in a corner of

the cellar.

Geronimo, overwhelmed by Julio's insensibility, bowed his head upon his

breast. For some time he neither spoke nor moved, seeming to accept his

fate with complete resignation. But the terror of death again possessed

him.




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