FOOD AT LAST-DEATH OF JULIO.

When Julio left the cellar for the purpose of procuring bread, Geronimo cast himself on his knees, full of gratitude to God, to return thanks for the unexpected deliverance.

Julio had said “soon,” but an hour passed, then another, then many more, and he came not.

A painful doubt began to take possession of Geronimo’s mind.  Had an accident happened to Julio?  Had he perhaps cruelly abandoned his victim?  Had he set out for Germany with the certainty that hunger would kill him whom the dagger had spared?

The unfortunate cavalier had no means of measuring the flight of time.  What in the immutable darkness of his prison seemed to him a century, might in reality be only a few hours, and the promised bread would soon appear to his eyes as the star of safety-in a quarter of an hour, in a minute-that very instant.

By such reflections Geronimo sought to endure patiently the pangs of hunger.  He put his ear to the keyhole and ceased breathing that he might catch the slightest sound.  Alas! hour after hour passed in unbroken silence.  Although Geronimo knew not whether it was day or night, his increasing sufferings were to him a sure indication of the passage of time.  For a while he encouraged himself by the thought that Julio would not bring him the promised bread until dawn, and that he would give him at the same time food and liberty.

This hope by degrees diminished, and at last vanished entirely.  The suffering young man could not longer deceive either his body or his mind; it became evident to him that the hour which he had hoped would restore him to freedom had long passed.

He had been abandoned-devoted to a cruel martyrdom, a frightful death!  He was then to die in the midst of the torments of hunger-to die slowly in indescribable suffering, and fall into the yawning grave prepared for him!

Struck with terror by the conviction thus forced upon him, the unfortunate cavalier arose despairingly and ran panting and crying around the cellar, as though he could thus escape the death which menaced him.

The pain of his wounds was increased by this violent and feverish agitation.  His breast heaved under his difficult respiration, but the gnawing hunger which agonized him made these sufferings seem light.  Falling to the ground from exhaustion, he commenced, as soon as he had gained a little strength, his struggle against the tortures of hungry.  At times his despair was cheered by the thought that even yet Julio might come.  But Julio was plunged by the influence of poison into a mortal sleep, and in all probability would appear before Geronimo at the judgment-seat of God.

Hoping against hope, the young man seated himself on the ground.  The violence of his sufferings seemed to abate and leave him at rest for a few moments.  His thoughts wandered to all he loved upon earth, but the respite was of short duration.  Soon the agony he endured drew from him piercing cries.  During his long martyrdom no torment had equalled the present.  It seemed as though he were being devoured by flames, or as if molten lead were coursing through his veins.

He writhed in convulsions, beat his breast, and in heart-rending accents called upon God for help.  But nothing relieved his horrible sufferings.

He filled the air with his groans and screams, he beat the door with blind fury, tore the flesh from his fingers in his useless efforts to make an opening in his prison-walls, and ran from side to side as though the pangs of hunger had driven him mad.

At last, exhausted and convinced that there was no escape, that he must soon enter into his last agony, he threw himself upon the ground, bowed his head and joined his hands in prayer, begging for resignation to meet the death which would end his cruel martyrdom.  His mind now appeared clear, and he was perfectly conscious, for after a while he shed a torrent of tears.  His lips moved, giving utterance to confused sounds, but by degrees his words became more distinct, and fixing his eye in the darkness on the spot where he knew the grave had been dug, he said: 

“No more hope!  All is over.  I must die!  The grave yawns to receive me.  Alas! what a place for my mortal remains!  Forgotten, unknown, concealed by the darkness of a horrible crime!  Not a tear will fall upon the tomb of the unfortunate victim; not a cross will mark the spot where I lie; not a prayer will be whispered over my body!  Death approaches.  Ah!  I must not thus cling to life; I will pray and lift my hands in supplication to God.  He alone-”

He stopped under the influence of a sudden emotion.

“Heavens! did I not hear a noise?”

He listened breathlessly for a time to catch the indistinct sound he thought he had heard; but he was mistaken.

“Why should I hope, when hope is no longer possible?  Let me rather seek strength in the consideration of the better life which awaits me.  The death I endure will purify me from all my sins.  If God, in His impenetrable designs, has appointed this to be my earthly fate, He will, in His mercy, take into account before his judgment-seat what I have innocently suffered here below.  Consoling hope, which, encourages me to look with confidence into eternity!

“And yet my life was so happy!  Everything in the world smiled upon me; my path was strewn with roses; the future spread out before me like a cloudless sky resplendent with stars.  God had not only given me health, fortune, and peace of heart, but also the hope of uniting my fate with that of a lovely young girl.  Mary Van de Werve! the incarnation of all that men admire and heaven loves:  virtue, piety, modesty, charity, beauty, love!  Alas! alas! must I leave all that?  Must I say a last adieu, renounce my hopes, and never see her again?  Die and sleep forever in an unknown tomb, while she lives!”

A cry of anguish escaped him.  But it was caused rather by his train of thought than by the adieu he had just spoken, for he added, in a suppliant voice: 

“Pardon, O Lord, pardon!  Thy creature clings to life; but be not angry with the weakness of my nature.  Should I die by the terrible death of starvation, I humbly accept Thy holy will, and I bless Thy hand which deals the blow!  God of mercy, grant that I may find grace with Thee!”

Calmed by this invocation, he resumed, with less emotion and in a tone which proved that his soul had received consolation: 

“And if I be permitted in my last hour to offer to Thee my supplications, I pray Thee, O God of mercy, to spare my uncle, and let not my misfortune deprive him also of life.  He was my father and benefactor; he taught me to live in the fear of Thy holy name.  By the cruel sufferings which I endure, by my terrible death, have pity on him!  Let Thy angels also guard and protect the pious and pure young girl who is before Thee as an immaculate dove!  Jesus, Saviour of mankind, on the cross you prayed to your heavenly Father for those who crucified Thee.  Demand not an account of my blood from my enemy.  Pardon him, lead him back to the path of virtue, and after death grant him eternal rest!  My strength fails; the sweat of death is on my brow.  O my God! in this, my last hour, grant me the grace to die with Thy love alone in my heart, and Thy holy name alone upon my lips!”

The last words of this prayer had scarcely fallen from his lips, when he cried aloud, arose trembling, and eagerly fixed his eyes upon the opposite wall, upon which a faint streak of light flickered.

“O my God! what means this?” he exclaimed.  “Light? light? a voice?  Is some one coming?  Is there still hope?  I shall not die!  Cruel dream!  Frightful illusion!  But no, it is indeed a light; it becomes brighter.  I hear a human voice.  Alas! this suspense is worse than death!”

Tottering from weakness, and supporting himself by the sides of the wall, he gained the door, and trembling between hope and fear, he put his eye to the keyhole in order to discover who was approaching his person.

He saw in the distance a man with a lamp in his hand; but his gestures were so strange, and his countenance so singular, that he was at a loss to know whether it were a human being, or only a creation of his own disordered brain.

Still he heard confused sounds in the passage; a voice seemed to complain, curse, and call for aid.

By degrees the mysterious apparition drew nearer, and Geronimo recognized the servant of Simon Turchi; but why was Julio writhing in such horrible convulsions?  Why was his face so horribly contorted?  Why did he threaten and rage in such harsh accents?

A horrible conviction forced itself upon Geronimo’s mind.  Julio had sought in drink the courage necessary to accomplish the work which fate exacted of him.  He had thus drowned his senses, and had come now to slay his victim without mercy.

The thought for the moment roused his fears; but he remembered that he had just offered to God his life in expiation of his sins.  He retired to the other side of the cellar, knelt by the side of the grave, and with a smile upon his lips and his eyes lifted to heaven, he calmly awaited the fatal blow.

He heard Julio trying to insert the key in the lock as if his hand were unsteady.  He noticed that there was no finger in his tone of voice; on the contrary, the cries which escaped him were rather those of alarm and distress; but before he had time for reflection the door opened.

Julio put down the lamp as if his strength had entirely failed him, and fell upon the ground, exclaiming in a supplicating voice: 

“O signor, help, help!  I am poisoned!  A burning fire consumes me!  Take pity on me!  For the love of God, deliver me from this torture!”

“Poisoned!” exclaimed Geronimo, hastening to Julio.  “What has happened to you?  The mark of death is on your face!”

“Simon Turchi gave me last night poisoned wine, in order to destroy the witness who could prove your death by his hand.  He made me pay Bufferio to assassinate you.  He wishes to marry Mary Van de Werve, and he desires to remove any cause of fear that his happiness may be disturbed.  Ah! the poison consumes me!”

“Tell me, Julio, what I can do for your relief.”

Saying this, he knelt by Julio, and threw open his doublet to give him air: 

“Thanks, thanks, O my God! here is bread!” exclaimed Geronimo, almost wild with joy, and snatching with feverish haste the small loaf which Julio had concealed, and which he had entirely forgotten since his fatal stupor.

The young man, absorbed in satisfying his devouring hunger, no longer heeded Julio’s complaints, but having soon appeased its cravings, he took his hands, saying: 

“I bless you, Julio, and may the omnipotent God reward you in heaven.  Tell me what I can do to save you.  Set me at liberty, and I will fly for physician and priest.  The keys-quick, the keys!”

“Alas!” said Julio, in a hopeless voice, “my cruel murderer took from me the keys of the door.  We are shut up in the building.  But I cannot die thus, consumed by poison, without confession, without hope of pardon for my soul!  Go up-stairs, signor, call aloud, break open the door, wrest the iron bars from the windows.  Collect all your strength, take pity on me and help me!”

Geronimo seized the keys, and, lighted by the lamp, he hastily traversed the subterranean passage, and mounted the staircase.

The gray dawn was appearing in the east, but to the eyes of the young man so long accustomed to utter darkness it was almost as bright as noonday.

Convinced that Julio’s condition demanded immediate aid, Geronimo hastily tried all the keys in the exterior door, pulled all the bolts, endeavored to wrench the door from the hinges, and worked with so much energy that at last he fell from weakness.

Taking a short rest, he arose, threw up the windows, shook the iron bars, ran up-stairs and called aloud for help.  But all his efforts were useless-the pavilion was too far removed from any habitation to permit him to indulge the hope that his voice, weak as it was, could be heard.

In running through the building-almost maddened by despair-to seek an outlet, he entered the kitchen, where he perceived a vessel full of water.  The sight filled him with joy.  Perhaps water, taken in large quantities, might deaden the effects of the poison and save Julio’s life.  At any rate, he had no other remedy, and as it was his only hope, he grasped at it as if it were an inspiration from heaven.

Filling a pitcher, he ran with it to the cellar, and radiant with joy, approached Julio, who had barely strength to ask in a feeble voice: 

“Is the priest coming?  Will the doctor be here?  Ah! it is too late!”

“Drink,” said Geronimo, holding the pitcher to his lips; “the water will cool the inflammation and refresh you.”

Julio took the water.

“Thank you, signor; it is useless, the water does me no good.”

“Take more, I beg you, Julio,-as much as you can.”

Julio obeyed mechanically and nearly emptied the pitcher.  His respiration became very labored, and the sweat ran in big drops from his brow.

“Do you feel better, Julio?” asked the young man.

“A little better; the heat is not so burning.”

“There is still hope!” exclaimed Geronimo, joyfully.  “Take courage, Julio; have confidence in the mercy of God.  When all human aid fails us, then God gives his omnipotent assistance.”

“But,” said Julio, “my heart beats so feebly, my limbs are benumbed.  Signor, I am dying.  The poison is killing me.”

“Die?  Julio!  You have delivered me from death, and shall I be powerless to save you?  What shall I do?  O my God, what can I try?”

“Think no more of it, signor,” said the dying man.  “I feel that there is no hope.  Alas!  I was partly the cause of your bitter sufferings:  I pushed you into the chair; I intended to kill you, the deliverer of my blind mother!  Take pity on me!  Let not your just malediction follow my poor soul into eternity.  Pardon me, signor, pardon!”

“Speak not thus, Julio.  But for you, that yawning grave would now cover my corpse.  Shall I refuse pardon to you who spared my life?  No; I will pray for you, I will give alms for the repose of your soul.  Have confidence in the goodness of God.”

“Confidence?” said Julio, in a dying voice.  “I shudder to think of the judgment which awaits me.  In this, my death agony, I see with frightful clearness.  I dare not hope in God’s mercy.  I have done nothing to merit it.  A dark veil is before my eyes.”

The death-rattle was in his throat.

Geronimo passed his arm around his neck and raised his head, and seeing Julio’s eyes fixed upon him, he said, tenderly and fervently: 

“Julio, listen to me!  You say you dare not hope in the mercy of God’ Have you forgotten that Jesus Christ shed his blood to redeem fallen man?  Do you not know that there is joy before the angels when a sinner, by sincere repentance, escapes the eternal enemy of man and enters triumphant into heaven?  You repent, do you not?  You sincerely repent?”

Julio bowed affirmatively.

“Ah!” exclaimed Geronimo, “if I cannot save your body from death, at least let me keep your soul from eternal torments.  Oh! if I could thus repay the debt of gratitude I owe you!  Julio, were God to prolong your life, would you renounce evil and return courageously and sincerely to the path of duty and virtue?  You say yes?  You implore God’s mercy, do you not?  You have confidence in the inexhaustible treasure of his goodness?  Then, Julio, raise your dying eyes to heaven, direct your last thoughts to Him who is the source of all mercy, and with full confidence let your soul wing its flight to the supreme tribunal.  Already from the highest heaven God absolves the repentant sinner!”

A triumphant hope illumined the countenance of Julio as he endeavored to raise his eyes to heaven.

“Saved-his soul is saved!” exclaimed Geronimo, transported with a pious joy.

A slight convulsion passed over the limbs of Julio, his muscles became paralyzed, his head fell heavily on Geronimo’s shoulder, and drawing his last breath, he murmured, almost unintelligibly: 

“Mercy!  O my God!”

“He is dead!” said Geronimo.  “May thy soul receive my fraternal embrace in its passage to eternity!  May this mark of reconciliation weigh in the balance of eternal justice!”

He bent over the dead; but as if contact with the corpse had deprived him of his little remaining strength, he fell as it were lifeless.  Not a limb moved, his arms dropped motionless, his eyes closed, it seemed that his soul had also taken its flight to heaven to accompany the soul of Julio before God’s judgment seat.