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Updated: June 18, 2025
Van de Werve sometimes gratified his friends and acquaintances by allowing his beautiful daughter to be present at their evening reunion for about an hour, and he had been impatiently awaiting the moment when the young girl would appear.
She was still more happy when she saw the affability with which her father and Geronimo's uncle conversed together, as though they were old friends. Very soon the Signor Deodati descended into the gondola to accompany Mr. Van de Werve and Geronimo to the city. The Flemish cavalier introduced his daughter to the Italian noble.
"You would accuse me of cruelty, would you not? and this lovely young girl would hate the old man for his insensibility. It was not for that I crossed the seas in my old age." He reflected a few minutes, then extending his hand to Mr. Van de Werve, he said: "My lord, I wish to show my good-will. I accept entirely your conditions, and in recompense for my sacrifices I ask only your friendship.
Miss Van de Werve speaks equally well both Spanish and French, nor is she ignorant of Latin." "Can that be so?" asked the elder Deodati, with an incredulous smile. "That is nothing extraordinary in our city of Antwerp," said Mr. Van de Werve. "Most ladies of noble birth, and even merchants' daughters, speak two or three foreign languages.
Their decorations harmonized with, those of the wainscot, and seemed an expansion of it, as though the architect wished the exquisite ornaments of the beams of the ceiling to be considered a luxuriant verdure, springing from trunks rooted in the oaken wainscot. The escutcheon of the Van de Werve family, together with the families allied to them, was artistically sculptured in the wood.
"Yes, Julio, God has bestowed upon me the greatest earthly blessing, for which I shall eternally thank him. On the solemn day of our nuptials you will have cause to rejoice." "I, signor?" "Yes, you, Julio. Miss Van de Werve wishes to recompense you herself for the assistance you gave me against Bufferio and his comrades.
Although he had been deeply moved by the murderous assault, and his daughter Mary had scarcely recovered from the shock, he had not withdrawn the invitations, hoping that the social gathering might help to dissipate painful thoughts. At the appointed hour the dwelling of Mr. Van de Werve was in a blaze of light.
"Mary, Mary Van de Werve!" howled Simon Turchi, with biting sarcasm. "I will renounce her hand and leave for Italy, and never again will I see a country so fatal to me, to her, to all that I love." "It is too late too late. You must die!" "No, no, Simon; in pity to yourself do not imbue your hands in my innocent blood.
Van de Werve contemplated the city, and seemed to enjoy the magnificent spectacle presented by Antwerp when seen at a distance, and which, with its lofty towers and splendid edifices, rose from the river like another Venice. Suddenly Geronimo rose and pointed in the distance, exclaiming, joyously, "See, the Il Salvatore!" Mary, glancing around, eagerly asked: "Where?
Van de Werve, and saluted him most respectfully; but the traces of tears which he perceived on Mary's face so startled him that he interrupted his ceremonious greetings, and fixed his eyes inquiringly upon her. She had been weeping, and yet she smiled joyously. "Mary is naturally very susceptible, Signor Geronimo," said Mr. Van de Werve. "I was speaking to her of her beloved mother, and she wept.
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