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Updated: June 10, 2025
Is it not a happiness to think that Geronimo, although guilty of a fault, is still alive, and not to be forced to believe that he is forever lost to our affection by a frightful death?" Old Deodati arose and said: "My friends, I must leave you; my mind is troubled; I am ill. Besides, I wish to discover by the books the truth or falsity of Signor Turchi's statement.
"The heat is intolerable," said Simon, endeavoring to master his feelings. "Heat?" murmured Deodati; "it does not seem to me very warm. Shall I accompany you for a few moments to the garden, signor?" But Turchi raised his head, and smiling in an unconcerned manner, said: "Many thanks, signor, for your kindness. I feel much better.
"But, father, permit me to say that the Signor Deodati of Lucca is very rich and of high birth," replied the young girl, sadly. "Did not the banker Marco Riccardi give you satisfactory information on that point?" "And should he be miserly, Mary, will he accept the conditions I propose?
I passed a portion of the night in calculating over and over again; for the invariable result was so frightful that my mind and heart refused to accept the evidence of my senses. The sum lost in gambling by my nephew is incredible." "What!" exclaimed Mr. Van de Werve, "then the Signor Turchi was not mistaken in his suspicions?" "Ten thousand crowns!" said Deodati sighing.
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.
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.
"Another misfortune? Speak, Simon, speak," said Deodati, in suppliant tones, and trembling from anxiety. Turchi fell, as if from exhaustion, upon a chair, and said, in a voice broken by sobs: "No, signor, ask me nothing; I could not break your heart by such stunning tidings. Alas! alas! who anticipated such a misfortune? My unhappy friend! my poor Geronimo!"
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.
"Was Geronimo a gambler?" exclaimed Deodati, with ill-suppressed indignation. "It is the custom at Antwerp to play for money, and often for considerable sums of money," continued Simon Turchi. "I never remarked that my friend Geronimo had a passion for play. However that may be, I could never discover to whom he had lost the amount, nor would he tell me how much it was.
Van de Werve thought it better to change the conversation, and said to Deodati: "Let us not forget, signor, that we are men, and that it becomes us to bear up courageously under a painful suspense, and in a manner to which a young girl might be unequal. Have you heard nothing since the morning? Have you not seen Signor Turchi?"
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