d Simon. "I
thought I was about to learn from your lips that my friend was safe, and
what do you promise me if your search proves successful? Only his dead
body!"

"It is true," said the bailiff. "It is no use to deceive you. My opinion
is that he has been assassinated in some by-street near the hospital
grounds, or in one of the dark alleys between the parishes of Saint George
and Saint Andrew. But I am determined to discover the truth. Dead or
alive, I will find him, even if it be necessary to tear up the pavements
of all the cellars, and dig up all the gardens to the depth of ten feet.
The whole city is in a state of excitement; the people complain of the
authorities of Antwerp as though we were accomplices in the crime. This
affair shall be brought to light, I pledge my honor and my name."

"I thank you for your zeal and solicitude," stammered Turchi. "May God
direct your steps! How we will all bless you, if you restore Geronimo
alive to us."[23]

"I have little hope, little hope, signor; but all things are possible,"
said the bailiff, shaking his head.

Deodati took his hand, and said:

"Messire Van Schoonhoven, I am most grateful to you. Excuse me for the
remaining longer in your honorable company; but I am indisposed, and I
must return home. May God protect you, signor."

"And are you going also, Signor Turchi?" asked the bailiff.

When Simon gave him to understand, by a glance of the eye, that he could
not let the old man go alone, he took his hand affectionately, and said:

"I understand, signor; you are right. Adieu, until to-morrow."

Turchi offered his arm to Deodati, and supported his tottering steps. They
took leave of Mr. Van de Werve, who accompanied them to the door, and
admiring Simon Turchi's kindness, he followed them with his eyes as long
as they were in sight.

CHAPTER VIII.

SIMON TURCHI TRIES TO CONCEAL HIS CRIME.

After having accompanied Deodati to his residence, Simon Turchi went to
his own dwelling near the bridge _De la Vigne_.

He was greatly excited, either by extreme anxiety or by a feverish
impatience; for he descended to the ground-floor, entered his office,
pretended to be looking for some papers, went up stairs again, paced the
room, opened the window, looked up and down the street, closed the window
petulantly, and at last, stamping his foot, he angrily exclaimed:

"The miserable gamester! he is in some tavern drinking, gambling, amusing
himself, while I am h