"But, signor, that would take time."

"That is of no consequence. At this hour there are too many people passing

through the city gates. It is better for you to pass the night at the

pavilion, and to-morrow morning, as soon as the gates are open, you will

leave. At daybreak you will be certain of meeting no one who would notice

what direction you had taken. I suggest this for your own sake, Julio, not

mine; for suppose the officers of the law should search my summer-house,

those precautions would divert their attentions from the cellar, while

otherwise they would infallibly discover that the earth had been recently

dug. Perhaps, through respect for me, the bailiff may exempt my lands from

search. In either case I will wait until the impression made by the murder

has worn away. I will say nothing of you, except that you left me in

consequence of a sharp rebuke, and that I do not know what has become of

you. As soon as the present excitement subsides and the search is

abandoned, I promise to recall you. Now will you go to the pavilion and

accomplish faithfully what I advise?"

"I will."

"Do not forget your new name."

"Marco Castagno? It is easily remembered."

"Yes; Marco Castagno, and you are travelling on business. I had nearly

forgotten the letter of recommendation. Wait here an instant; do not come

down-stairs. I will write it at once."

When Julio was left alone he put his hand in his pocket, chinked the gold

coins, and drew out a handful for the pleasure of contemplating them; but

he soon returned the money to his doublet, and fell into deep thought.

"If," he muttered, "I could only set off at once! Here I am obliged to

pass a whole night in that accursed pavilion! The signor thinks that

Geronimo has been buried for five days, and his corpse is still above

ground. To fill up the grave is not much. Suppose I let that alone, and

leave this evening with the money? No, no; I will execute faithfully what

I promised. My master is so generous to me, I will show him that I am not

ungrateful."

"Here is the letter of recommendation," said Simon Turchi, entering the

room. "It is in the name of Marco Castagno. Forget your other names, and

be prudent, remembering that the least indiscretion might cost our lives.

Go to the pavilion, Julio. I bid you adieu, with the hope of soon seeing

you again at Antwerp."




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