Punishment of Simon Turchi It was six o'clock in the morning.

The height of the sun indicated that the warm season of summer had

replaced the mild month of May. It was apparently a festival day at

Antwerp, for through all the gates people poured from the surrounding

country into the city. The streets were filled with persons of all ages,

who, talking and laughing, hastened to the centre of the city, as though

they anticipated some magnificent spectacle.

Before Mr. Van de Werve's residence was a compact mass of citizens who

seemed impatient at the delay. Through a sentiment of respect, they were

perfectly quiet, speaking in very low tones, and making way to afford a

passage through the crowd every time that a cavalier or any notable

personage presented himself for admission into the house.

The attraction to the centre of the city must have been very powerful, for

the greater part of those who passed neither stopped nor turned their

heads. Some approached, and learning upon inquiry as to the cause of the

gathering, that Miss Van de Werve was about to leave for Italy, they

immediately resumed their walk, as if the sight of this departure were no

equivalent to the imposing spectacle they were going to witness. A few,

however, remained in order to discover the real object of so large a

concourse of people.

An old gray-headed peasant, after having listened to the conversation

going on among the peasants, recognized in the crowd a man from his own

village, who had been residing for some time in the city, near the church

of Saint James, and who consequently, he thought, must be better informed

than the others in regard to Miss Van de Werve.

He elbowed his way through the crowd until he reached his friend, struck

him on the shoulder, and said: "What is going on here, Master John, to collect such an assembly? I heard

some one say that Miss Van de Werve was about to leave for Italy."

"Ah! Master Stephen," said the other, "call her Madame Geronimo Deodati."

"Is she married?"

"One would say, Master Stephen, that our village is at the other end of

the world. Even the children of Antwerp bless this marriage as a striking

proof of God's justice."

"I did hear, friend John, that God had visibly avenged virtue and punished

crime. The assassin dies by a frightful death, and the victim becomes the

husband of the noblest and wealthiest young lady in the marquisate. Do you

know her, Master John?"

"Do I know her? She passes my house twice every day in going to church. I

furnish the family with bread, and I have frequent opportunities of

speaking with this amiable young lady."




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