to ebb at the very hour fixed for the death of the assassin. You
see that God himself willed Mr. Van de Werve to remain here until his
vengeance was accomplished."

"Does she go to Italy to reside?"

"Oh, no; she only goes on a wedding trip. She will return in the course of
a year, when the impression of the perfidy and cruelty of Simon Turchi
will be less painful. Back, back, Master Stephen, they are coming!"

From the crowd arose a joyous shout. Each was anxious to approach Madame
Deodati. Those who did not know her desired to see the noble young woman
whose name was so painfully connected with the bloody history of Simon
Turchi, and who was esteemed a model of pure virtue, fervent piety, and
ideal beauty. The neighbors and those who had the honor of knowing her
collected in order to salute her, to bid her a respectful and cordial
adieu, and to wish her a happy voyage.

Mary Van de Werve, now Madame Geronimo Deodati, appeared at the door
accompanied by her husband. As soon as the people perceived her, loud and
long acclamations greeted her; they waved their caps, clapped their hands,
rent the air with their cries of joy, and strove to obtain a glance of the
angelic features of the beautiful lady and the noble countenance of her
husband, who had been so miraculously preserved, by the providence of God,
from the hands of his cruel enemy, Simon Turchi.

Mr. Van de Werve walked by his daughter's side; the old Deodati was near
his beloved nephew Geronimo. Then followed Mary's two married brothers and
a large number of her father's near relatives and friends, as well as many
Italians, Portuguese, and Spaniards, who wished to escort Geronimo to the
ship.

When Mary heard the benedictions and joyous shouts of the people, and saw
all eyes fixed upon her with looks of love, the blood mantled to her
cheeks, and she modestly cast down her eyes. But immediately raising them,
she saluted the crowd as a mark of her gratitude for their kindness. The
multitude, at a sign from Mr. Van de Werve, opened a passage for the
party, and they proceeded to the Scheldt amid acclamations testifying the
love and respect they inspired. Their drive resembled a triumphal
procession. The old Deodati was deeply moved. He seemed rejuvenated. A
sweet smile was upon his lips, and he looked proudly upon Geronimo. Thus
full of the thought of their future happiness, they reached the dock-yard.
In the middle of the Scheldt was the _Il Salvatore_, decked