th, at least
let me keep your soul from eternal torments. Oh! if I could thus repay the
debt of gratitude I owe you! Julio, were God to prolong your life, would
you renounce evil and return courageously and sincerely to the path of
duty and virtue? You say yes? You implore God's mercy, do you not? You
have confidence in the inexhaustible treasure of his goodness? Then,
Julio, raise your dying eyes to heaven, direct your last thoughts to Him
who is the source of all mercy, and with full confidence let your soul
wing its flight to the supreme tribunal. Already from the highest heaven
God absolves the repentant sinner!"

A triumphant hope illumined the countenance of Julio as he endeavored to
raise his eyes to heaven.

"Saved--his soul is saved!" exclaimed Geronimo, transported with a pious
joy.

A slight convulsion passed over the limbs of Julio, his muscles became
paralyzed, his head fell heavily on Geronimo's shoulder, and drawing his
last breath, he murmured, almost unintelligibly:

"Mercy! O my God!"

"He is dead!" said Geronimo. "May thy soul receive my fraternal embrace in
its passage to eternity! May this mark of reconciliation weigh in the
balance of eternal justice!"

He bent over the dead; but as if contact with the corpse had deprived him
of his little remaining strength, he fell as it were lifeless. Not a limb
moved, his arms dropped motionless, his eyes closed, it seemed that his
soul had also taken its flight to heaven to accompany the soul of Julio
before God's judgment seat.

CHAPTER XII.

IS IT HIS GHOST?--THE GUILTY EXPOSED.

It was scarcely eight o'clock in the morning when Signor Deodati was on
his way to the residence of Mr. Van de Werve.

The old merchant was walking very slowly, with his eyes cast down. From
time to time he shook his head, as if disturbed by painful thoughts. His
countenance expressed dissatisfaction rather than sorrow; indeed, it might
even be said to indicate angry and bitter feelings.

The servant who opened the door ushered him into a parlor and went to call
his master. Deodati threw himself into a chair, covered his face with his
hands, and was so absorbed in thought that he was not aware of Mr. Van de
Werve's entrance.

"Good morning, signor," said the Flemish noble, saluting him. "Your early
visit encourages me to hope that you have news of our poor Geronimo."

"Bad news, Mr. Van de Werve, bad news," said the old man, with tearful
eyes. "Sit down near