"I would like to see her," said the old man, "but if I wait, I shall

arrive too late at the public square."

"You need not fear," replied Master John. "The executioner's car will not

leave the prison for an hour to come."

The peasant hesitated as to what he should do.

"Are you sure that the young lady will leave at once?"

"Immediately, Master Stephen. Mr. Van de Werve urges the departure--he

wishes to be out of the city before the executioner commences his work."

"Why," said the peasant, "did they wait until to-day? In their place I

would have gone long ago."

"Ah!" replied Master John, "here is another evidence of God's intervention

in these terrible affairs. The vessel which bears them to Italy has been

ready to sail for a week. During all that time the wind blew constantly

from the south-west; it changed to the east only last night, so that their

departure before was impossible. But the tide is high now and will

commence to ebb at the very hour fixed for the death of the assassin. You

see that God himself willed Mr. Van de Werve to remain here until his

vengeance was accomplished."

"Does she go to Italy to reside?"

"Oh, no; she only goes on a wedding trip. She will return in the course of

a year, when the impression of the perfidy and cruelty of Simon Turchi

will be less painful. Back, back, Master Stephen, they are coming!"

From the crowd arose a joyous shout. Each was anxious to approach Madame

Deodati. Those who did not know her desired to see the noble young woman

whose name was so painfully connected with the bloody history of Simon

Turchi, and who was esteemed a model of pure virtue, fervent piety, and

ideal beauty. The neighbors and those who had the honor of knowing her

collected in order to salute her, to bid her a respectful and cordial

adieu, and to wish her a happy voyage.

Mary Van de Werve, now Madame Geronimo Deodati, appeared at the door

accompanied by her husband. As soon as the people perceived her, loud and

long acclamations greeted her; they waved their caps, clapped their hands,

rent the air with their cries of joy, and strove to obtain a glance of the

angelic features of the beautiful lady and the noble countenance of her

husband, who had been so miraculously preserved, by the providence of God,

from the hands of his cruel enemy, Simon Turchi.




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