My explanation will be such that
there will be no room for suspicion. But suppose it should be known! O
torturing doubt! What a desperate game! Wealth, honor, power, and the hand
of Mary Van de Werve, against my life and the honor of my family! Triumph
and happiness on the one hand; disgrace and death on the scaffold on the
other! Suppose I go to the bailiff, and accuse Julio of the murder? That
would put me above suspicion. But no; the search will be superficial, mere
matter of form for the sake of appearances. If Julio as arranged things
properly, they will merely cast a glance into the cellar. My presence will
be a restraint upon the officers, and will prevent them from pushing their
search so far as to imply a suspicion. If they do not find the body, as is
probable, the affair will forever remain secret, and I will have in future
no cause for alarm. I must take courage and descend into the cellar, to
see how Julio performed the task assigned him before his departure."

He approached a large wardrobe, took from it a bottle, poured out a large
glass of wine and drank it. Lighted by the lamp, he descended the
staircase and approached the cellar; but before proceeding through the
subterranean passage, he hesitated and stepped back:

"Singular!" he said; "I am overpowered by fear! I recoil in terror before
that dark cave, as though the dead could arise from the grave to take
revenge. What! I had the courage to stab him while living, and yet I
tremble upon approaching the spot where lie his inanimate remains! Away
with this childish terror!"

However bold his words, the Signor Turchi did not become calm, and his
heart beat violently as he again slowly approached the entrance to the
cellar. He hesitated an instant, as he looked down the long, dark passage,
but was about to proceed, when a noise outside the building made him shake
with fear.

"What can it be? Am I not mistaken? Some one unlocks the garden-gate! Will
I be found here? Am I betrayed?"

After a moment of torturing doubt he fled from the cellar to his room, his
hair bristling with terror.

"They open the door of the house! They are within! They come! Great
heavens! What can it mean?"

A man appeared on the threshold of the room in which Simon Turchi had
taken refuge.

"Julio! it is Julio!" exclaimed Simon, in despair.

The servant reeled under the influence of liquor. His cheeks were flushed,
his eyes wandering, and while the smile upon his lips indic