"But, signor, that would take time."
"That is of no consequence. At this hour there are too many people passing
through the city gates. It is better for you to pass the night at the
pavilion, and to-morrow morning, as soon as the gates are open, you will
leave. At daybreak you will be certain of meeting no one who would notice
what direction you had taken. I suggest this for your own sake, Julio, not
mine; for suppose the officers of the law should search my summer-house,
those precautions would divert their attentions from the cellar, while
otherwise they would infallibly discover that the earth had been recently
dug. Perhaps, through respect for me, the bailiff may exempt my lands from
search. In either case I will wait until the impression made by the murder
has worn away. I will say nothing of you, except that you left me in
consequence of a sharp rebuke, and that I do not know what has become of
you. As soon as the present excitement subsides and the search is
abandoned, I promise to recall you. Now will you go to the pavilion and
accomplish faithfully what I advise?"
"I will."
"Do not forget your new name."
"Marco Castagno? It is easily remembered."
"Yes; Marco Castagno, and you are travelling on business. I had nearly
forgotten the letter of recommendation. Wait here an instant; do not come
down-stairs. I will write it at once."
When Julio was left alone he put his hand in his pocket, chinked the gold
coins, and drew out a handful for the pleasure of contemplating them; but
he soon returned the money to his doublet, and fell into deep thought.
"If," he muttered, "I could only set off at once! Here I am obliged to
pass a whole night in that accursed pavilion! The signor thinks that
Geronimo has been buried for five days, and his corpse is still above
ground. To fill up the grave is not much. Suppose I let that alone, and
leave this evening with the money? No, no; I will execute faithfully what
I promised. My master is so generous to me, I will show him that I am not
ungrateful."
"Here is the letter of recommendation," said Simon Turchi, entering the
room. "It is in the name of Marco Castagno. Forget your other names, and
be prudent, remembering that the least indiscretion might cost our lives.
Go to the pavilion, Julio. I bid you adieu, with the hope of soon seeing
you again at Antwerp."