The Amulet | Page 8

point, and permit me to perform my
duty to her to whom I owe homage and respect."
At that moment the painted--glass windows trembled under the stroke
of a large clock from some neighboring belfry. This suddenly turned
Mary's thoughts into another channel.
"The clock of St. James is striking ten," she said.
"Father, will you walk with me to the dock-yard to see if any new ships
have arrived?"

"What is the hour of high tide?" her father asked Geronimo.
"At noon," he replied.
"Why need we go so soon to the dock-yard?" asked the old cavalier.
"Many days may yet pass before the Il Salvatore appears in the Scheldt.
Do not fear, Mary, that the Signor Deodati will take us by surprise. Don
Pezoa, the agent of the king of Portugal, has given orders that I shall be
notified as soon as the galley we are awaiting is signaled in the river, at
noon."
He was interrupted by the entrance of a servant, who announced that
the Chevalier John Van Schoonhoven,[8] the bailiff, desired to speak
with him.
Geronimo was about to withdraw, but Mr. Van de Werve said to him,
cordially:
"Remain, signor; I will send Petronilla, Mary's duenna as a companion
for her; the interview with the Chevalier Schoonhoven may not detain
me long. We will afterwards go to the dock-yard, and we will at least
enjoy the fine weather. Stay, I beg you."
Hardly had he left the hall when an old woman entered, and seated
herself near the door. She drew a chaplet from her pocket, and
commenced praying in a low voice. This was apparently an habitual act
with her, for neither the young girl nor the young man took the least
notice of the duenna.
Mary approached her lover, and said, gaily: "Rejoice, Geronimo! My
father has just promised not to propose very heavy conditions to your
uncle."
"I am most grateful for his kindness," said the young man, sadly.
"What can be the matter?" asked Mary, surprised by his indifference. "I
noticed you were depressed when you first came. Be more hopeful;
perhaps the Il Salvatore will ascend the Scheldt to-day."

"God grant it may not arrive!" said Geronimo, heaving a deep sigh.
"Do you then fear your uncle's arrival?" exclaimed Mary, in an agitated
voice.
"Do not speak so loud, Mary; your duenna must not hear what I am
about to communicate to you. Yes; since yesterday morning I have
dreaded my uncle's arrival. Previously I implored it of Heaven as the
choicest blessing, and now the thought of it makes me tremble."
"Have you then heard from your uncle?"
"Alas! my friend, at the very moment when all seemed the brightest,
when I was thanking God for a happiness which I thought already mine,
a dark cloud comes to overshadow my life. I seem even now to hear my
uncle's voice pronouncing the cruel sentence which condemns me to a
life-long sorrow."
The young girl turned deadly pale, and anxiously awaited an
explanation of the mystery.
"My beloved Mary," he whispered, "it is a secret which I can only
confide to you in part, and which in strict honor I should perhaps
conceal entirely. Four weeks ago a merchant, highly esteemed, was left
by a curious train of circumstances without funds, and he begged me to
lend him ten thousand crowns. Should I refuse his request, the credit of
his house would be irretrievably ruined. His name I considered
sufficient security for ten times the amount he wished to borrow. At all
events, although it pained me to disobey my uncle's positive injunctions,
I could not deny the assistance which was asked of me. I lent the ten
thousand crowns, and obtained a receipt with a written promise of
payment in one month. Yesterday the note fell due; my debtor asks a
delay until to-morrow. I met him an hour ago, and he has not yet
obtained the money."
"But if your debtor is rich and powerful, you need not indulge your
fears to-day; to-morrow, perhaps, he will fulfil his promise," remarked
the young girl, with ill-concealed anxiety.

"My fears may mislead me, Mary, but I am sure that my debtor's affairs
are in a very bad condition. At his urgent entreaty I made no entry of
the loan upon the books, in order to conceal the transaction from the
clerks; but still I have not the amount in hand. O Mary! my uncle has
an eagle eye in business affairs; he will at once discover the deficit of
ten thousand crowns--a deficit resulting from my lending money: a
thing he has always warned me against, and which, even recently, he
strictly forbade. My uncle is a good father to me, but this act of
disobedience is sufficient to deprive me forever