"Impossible!" exclaimed Mr. Van de Werve.
"Impossible?" repeated Turchi, "he would have gone ere this, had I not
persuaded him that he would obtain his uncle's pardon. Even on the day of
your arrival, Signor Deodati, when Geronimo met me in the dock-yard on the
bank of the Scheldt, he begged me to inquire for an English vessel which
would leave on that or the next day, and secretly to engage his passage on
board. You may well know that I combated this foolish project, and I left
him only when he promised me to abandon the idea."
"Could he so lightly sacrifice my daughter's love?" said Mr. Van de Werve.
"Were his expressions of affection for her only hypocrisy? No, no; nothing
can induce me to believe that."
"His love was real," replied Turchi, "and its very depth, perhaps, blinded
his judgment. He thought that the discovery of his losses at the
gaming-table would inevitably deprive him of all hope of Mary's hand. My
poor friend! he wished to fly from the fate which threatened him, that he
might not witness the affliction of his beloved uncle."
No one replied to Simon's remarks, and he said, with hypocritical
surprise: "How sad you both are! You should rather rejoice at my revelation. 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. Do not attempt to detain me, I beg you. Adieu! May God guard
you!"
Simon Turchi prepared to accompany the old man; but whilst they were
speaking together the bailiff, Messire John Van Schoonhoven, suddenly
entered, and without the formality of a salutation, he exclaimed: "Gentlemen, I have news!"
Turchi trembled and turned pale; but as the unexpected announcement of the
bailiff had startled the others, his emotion was not attributed to terror.
"For the love of God be calm, gentlemen, and do not anticipate too much. I
do not know what has become of the unfortunate Geronimo, but I have just
cause to hope that we will soon find him--at least we have a clue.' I have
learned, beyond doubt, that on the day of his disappearance, about five
o'clock in the evening, he was seen beyond the Square of Meir. A monk from
the Dominican Convent, who knows him well, saluted him and noticed the
direction he went. Acting upon this information, one of my most
intelligent subordinates has been tracing him. A banker saw him pass
through the quarter of the Jews. This is all I know at present, but these
facts are sufficient to determine the direction of our researches, and may
perhaps lead to a fortunate issue. By early dawn to-morrow I will collect
all the agents at my disposal; I will divide them into small bands, and I
will order them to search every house, cellar, and garden in a certain
part of the city, and that in the most thorough manner, without leaving a
spot unexamined.[22] I myself will superintend the work, and will visit in
person each hand of workmen to see that my commands are properly
executed."