The Amulet

"No, Petronilla, I will hide my feelings, and I will appear hopeful. I saw

that the old man was overpowered by anxiety and trouble. Trust me,

Petronilla, and let me go; I must know from the Signor Deodati if he has

received any information."

The duenna accompanied the young girl to the door of the room where Mr.

Van de Werve and Signor Deodati were conversing together, but she let her

enter alone.

As soon as Mary's eye fell on the old man, and she read in his face the

sorrow of his soul, she uttered a stifled cry of anguish. She cast her

arms around his neck, and rested her head on his shoulder.

The Signor Deodati, deeply moved, seated her by his side, and said, with

tender compassion: "My poor Mary, we have no tidings yet of our Geronimo. Are we not unhappy?

Why did not God recall me to himself ere this? Did I leave Italy and come

hither to drink the bitter dregs in my chalice of life? Could I weep like

you, Mary, I might find some relief, but old age has dried up my tears.

Alas! alas! where is my poor Geronimo, the child whom God gave me, to

close my eyes on the bed of death? I would give my fortune to save him,

and the little that remains to me of life to know that he still lives."

Tears filled Mr. Van de Werve's eyes as he contemplated his daughter and

the desolate old man; but he controlled his emotion, and said: "Mary, I requested you to stay in your own apartment, because you cannot

moderate the expression of your sorrow. You have disregarded my desire. I

willingly pardon you, my child; but if you wish to remain longer with

Signor Deodati, you must exercise some self-control; otherwise I shall

send for your duenna to take you away."

He then added, in a more gentle manner: "Now, Mary, I beg, I supplicate you, comprehend the duty devolving upon

you. Be courageous, and do your best to console our unhappy friend."

With a heroic effort Mary raised her head, and although still weeping,

said: "You are right, father. We grieve as though there were no room for hope;

but--but--"

So great was the violence she was doing herself that she could scarcely

draw her breath; but conquering this emotion, she resumed: "Ah! signor, we cannot know. God is so good, and Geronimo has so pure a

heart!"

"God is indeed good, my child; but his designs are impenetrable. If I

could only imagine some probable cause to explain my nephew's absence. But

nothing--nothing!"