Simon Turchi grit his teeth in impotent rage; but soon recovering himself,
he took his servant's hand, and said beseechingly: "You are right, Julio; we are rather two friends than master and servant.
Let me then, as friend and companion, implore a favor at your hands. You
must see that it is important for me to go without delay to the factory to
change my dress. For the safety of both of us I ought to leave immediately
for the city, in order to prevent suspicion. Geronimo is not heavy; you
can, without difficulty, drag him down stairs."
The servant shook his head, but was evidently hesitating.
"Come, Julio; I beg, I entreat you to do what the safety of both of us
requires. You still hesitate, Julio? I will reward you generously. This
very evening I will give you two crowns if you tell me you have done
faithfully and carefully what I have requested."
"Will you be here, signor, when I return from the cellar?"
"I don't know, Julio; as soon as I have washed off the blood, I shall
leave. Make haste, and possibly you may find me here. In all events I will
wait for you this evening at the factory, and besides the two crowns, I
will give you a whole bottle of Malmsey."
"Agreed," said Julio; "I will do my best to please you."
He descended the staircase, and when he reached the room where the
horrible murder had been committed, he stood for a moment with his arms
folded. He turned pale and shook his head compassionately.
The poor Geronimo was extended in the chair, with his eyes closed. His
head had fallen on the arm of the chair; his two hands were joined, as if
in prayer for his cruel murderer. His garments were saturated with blood,
and his feet rested in a pool of blood. There was a large wound in his
neck and another in his breast; his face was not in the least stained, and
although it was covered by the pallor of death, his countenance wore a
sweet, tranquil expression, as though he had gently fallen asleep.
"Poor Signor Geronimo!" said Julio, sighing heavily. "Beauty! generosity!
wealth! all fallen under the blade of a wretch! What is man's life? He,
however, will in heaven, with God, be indemnified for his horrible death.
And we? But the present is not the time for reflections and lamentations;
my pity will not restore this corpse to life. I must now close my eyes to
the future, and fulfil my horrible task."