As soon as Deodati and Mr. Van de Werve had drawn their chairs nearer to
him, Simon said in an undertone, as if he feared his words might be
overheard: "Have you not remarked, Mr. Van de Werve, that for some time past Geronimo
has been disturbed and anxious; that even in the midst of cheerful
conversation he appeared absent-minded; in a word, that some great trouble
seemed weighing upon him?"
"I have noticed it," said Mr. Van de Werve.
"And you, Signor Deodati?"
"I have also remarked it. But what do you infer from this?"
"About a month ago I interrogated Geronimo as to the cause of his
melancholy, and he informed me in confused, vague terms, that he had lost
a considerable sum at play."
"At play!" exclaimed Mr. Van de Werve, overpowered by astonishment.
"Was Geronimo a gambler?" exclaimed Deodati, with ill-suppressed
indignation.
"It is the custom at Antwerp to play for money, and often for considerable
sums of money," continued Simon Turchi. "I never remarked that my friend
Geronimo had a passion for play. However that may be, I could never
discover to whom he had lost the amount, nor would he tell me how much it
was. His melancholy and agitation were caused by the circumstance I have
just mentioned. He was tortured by the certainty that his uncle would
discover, upon examination, the loss of a large amount, which was not
accounted for on the books. I proposed to advance him the deficit, but he
absolutely refused, because he preferred to meet his uncle's just anger
rather than deceive him."
This revelation was stunning to the old Deodati. Nothing could have more
keenly wounded the honorable, high-toned nobleman than the thought that
Geronimo had been so dishonest and ungrateful as to use the funds of the
establishment in gambling.
Trembling with emotion, he asked: "You say the sum is considerable. What is the amount?"
"I have no idea, signor. Perhaps you might discover it by an examination
of the books."
There was a short silence. Mr. Van de Werve's eyes were fixed upon the
ground. Signor Deodati passed his hand across his brow, and was absorbed
in painful thoughts.
Simon watched for a few moments, with an inquisitive eye, the effect of
this revelation upon his two companions, trying to penetrate their very
souls. Then he said to Deodati: "You look on the bad side of the affair, signor. If there were not a
brighter, reverse side, I would have considered the confidence of my
friend sacred, and guarded his secret until death. Up to this time we all
feared, nay, considered it certain, that Geronimo had fallen under the
assassin's steel. Now I begin to think that, in order to escape his
uncle's anger, he has left the city and country."