The Amulet

When Julio left the cellar for the purpose of procuring bread, Geronimo

cast himself on his knees, full of gratitude to God, to return thanks for

the unexpected deliverance.

Julio had said "soon," but an hour passed, then another, then many more,

and he came not.

A painful doubt began to take possession of Geronimo's mind. Had an

accident happened to Julio? Had he perhaps cruelly abandoned his victim?

Had he set out for Germany with the certainty that hunger would kill him

whom the dagger had spared?

The unfortunate cavalier had no means of measuring the flight of time.

What in the immutable darkness of his prison seemed to him a century,

might in reality be only a few hours, and the promised bread would soon

appear to his eyes as the star of safety--in a quarter of an hour, in a

minute--that very instant.

By such reflections Geronimo sought to endure patiently the pangs of

hunger. He put his ear to the keyhole and ceased breathing that he might

catch the slightest sound. Alas! hour after hour passed in unbroken

silence. Although Geronimo knew not whether it was day or night, his

increasing sufferings were to him a sure indication of the passage of

time. For a while he encouraged himself by the thought that Julio would

not bring him the promised bread until dawn, and that he would give him at

the same time food and liberty.

This hope by degrees diminished, and at last vanished entirely. The

suffering young man could not longer deceive either his body or his mind;

it became evident to him that the hour which he had hoped would restore

him to freedom had long passed.

He had been abandoned--devoted to a cruel martyrdom, a frightful death! He

was then to die in the midst of the torments of hunger--to die slowly in

indescribable suffering, and fall into the yawning grave prepared for him!

Struck with terror by the conviction thus forced upon him, the unfortunate

cavalier arose despairingly and ran panting and crying around the cellar,

as though he could thus escape the death which menaced him.

The pain of his wounds was increased by this violent and feverish

agitation. His breast heaved under his difficult respiration, but the

gnawing hunger which agonized him made these sufferings seem light.

Falling to the ground from exhaustion, he commenced, as soon as he had

gained a little strength, his struggle against the tortures of hungry. At

times his despair was cheered by the thought that even yet Julio might

come. But Julio was plunged by the influence of poison into a mortal

sleep, and in all probability would appear before Geronimo at the

judgment-seat of God.