"Whose name?"

"Yours, signor?"

Simon Turchi was so overpowered by the picture thus presented of his

probable end, that he uttered a cry of terror and sprang back, trembling.

He cast down his eyes for a moment in silence.

Julio contemplated the signor, thus overpowered by emotion, with a

derisive smile. He had not called up this vivid scene solely as a means to

induce his master to renounce his perilous enterprise; his motive was also

to terrify him and to revenge himself for the violence he had been forced

to endure from him.

The impression made upon Simon Turchi by this highly-wrought prediction

did not last long. He raised his head, and said, in a contemptuous manner: "Base hypocrite; it is your own fear which excites your imagination to see

such things. The most courageous man would become cowardly with the

cowardly. It is unfortunate for me that I need you, otherwise I would soon

rid myself of your presence. But I, at least, will not recoil from the

undertaking. Speak; tell me how far I may depend upon you. The clock will

soon strike, and there is no time for hesitation."

"We will see which of us will the more coolly perform his part of the

task. You are mistaken, signor; fear does not disturb me. Sympathy for you

suggested the train of thought, and I considered it my duty to place

before your eyes once more the abyss into which you might fall."

"Be silent; it is too late," exclaimed Simon Turchi, beside himself with

rage. "Fool, do you desire my ruin--my eternal dishonor? Shall I let my

enemy live? Shall I let him--him the husband of Mary Van de Werve--look

down upon me from the height of his grandeur and felicity? No, no. I

myself will be, must be, happy, rich, prosperous; and even should all

escape my grasp; should the scaffold be my lot, the rage of vengeance

which lacerates my heart must be satisfied.... Nothing, nothing, can

restrain me; and, Julio, were you an obstacle in my path, I would pass

over your dead body to strike a fatal blow at him who has poisoned my

life. Do not attempt to thwart me, or I will crush you where you stand."

At these words Simon Turchi placed his hand on the hilt of his sword; his

face was scarlet, his lips trembled, and his eyes flashed.

This threat did not disturb Julio, probably because he thought his master

could not execute it. An ironical smile played upon his lips; he stepped

back one or two paces, drew his knife, and said, mockingly: "It would be strange, signor, if Geronimo should find us engaged in a

combat. It might save his life."




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