Julio descended the staircase and walked slowly down the street.
His master opened the window and watched him until he was out of sight.
Simon Turchi drew a long breath, as though the weight of a mountain had been removed from his heart. A smile lighted up his face, and he said in an accent of intense joy:
"He has gone! Now I have nothing to fear. The bailiff may find the body; Julio committed the crime; I know nothing of it; I am as innocent as a lamb. Ah! I thought I was lost. Now I must arrange my plans as though I were certain of the discovery of the body. I feel new strength; hope and certainty animate my heart. Mary, Mary, your name, your fortune, your love will be mine. My life will yet be crowned with grandeur, wealth, and happiness."
And in feverish excitement he closed the window.
CHAPTER IX.
GERONIMO RESURRECTED.
The clock in the steeple of Saint George struck seven, and night was coming on, when Julio opened the garden-gate of his master's country-seat and walked with a light step towards the house.
He kept one hand wrapped in his cloak, as if to conceal some object; the other was in his pocket, turning over the gold pieces given him by Simon Turchi. Joy sparkled in his eyes, as he said to himself:
"God be praised! I resisted the temptation. They urged me to drink and play at the 'Swan,' but my gold coins reminded me that I had a serious duty to perform. After work comes the recompense. What I hold in my hand will indemnify me for the thirst I have suffered and for the time lost. It is the very best Spanish wine—as dear as if it were melted silver, and as strong as if it were liquid fire."