SIMON TURCHI TRIES TO CONCEAL HIS CRIME.
After having accompanied Deodati to his residence, Simon Turchi went to
his own dwelling near the bridge _De la Vigne_.
He was greatly excited, either by extreme anxiety or by a feverish
impatience; for he descended to the ground-floor, entered his office,
pretended to be looking for some papers, went up stairs again, paced the
room, opened the window, looked up and down the street, closed the window
petulantly, and at last, stamping his foot, he angrily exclaimed:
"The miserable gamester! he is in some tavern drinking, gambling, amusing
himself, while I am here on burning coals, almost overpowered by anxiety
and terror! Julio, Julio, if I escape the fate which now threatens me, I
will have my revenge for your ingratitude!"
Again he went to the window, and again he was disappointed. Thoroughly
discouraged, he threw himself upon a chair, heaved a heavy sigh, and after
a moment's silence exclaimed in accents of despair:
"Alas! alas! is it then true that my crime cannot remain concealed? Who
was it, to my great misfortune, who sent the Dominican brother just to the
spot to meet Geronimo, and thus furnished the bailiff with a clue to the
murder? Who put the Jewish banker on his track, so that the constables
might be led to my garden? Who suggested the idea to the bailiff to search
the cellars? Was it chance? But chance is blind, and does not proceed
with such precision to the fulfilment of a purpose. How frightful if God
himself conducted justice! if the Supreme Judge, who cannot be deceived,
has condemned me to an infamous death! How vain then all hope, all effort
to escape!"
Overpowered by these reflections, Simon Turchi bowed his head upon his
breast; his hands worked convulsively, and at intervals heart-rending
sighs escaped him.
Confusedly arose before him a horrible vision: he saw the scaffold
erected; he beheld the sword of the executioner glitter in the sunlight;
he heard the shouts of the populace calling down the vengeance of heaven
upon his guilty head and devoting his name to eternal infamy; he seemed to
feel the mysterious stroke from the uplifted blade, for his frame shook
violently, and he uttered a piercing cry of anguish.
He thrust his hand into his doublet, and drew from it slowly a small phial
half filled with a yellow liquid, and held it before him with a shudder of
disgust and horror.
"Poison, deadly poison!" he muttered. "He who has the courage to take a
few drops will sleep a sweet sleep from which there is no awakening. And
is this my only refuge from the ignominy of the scaffold? Instead of
wealth and happiness, is a miserable death to be the price of my crime?
No, no; I must chase away these horrible thoughts."
He replaced the phial in his doublet, and abandoned himself again to his
dark reflections; but at last he conquered, in a measure, his dejection,
and he said, less despairingly but still sorrowfully:
"And yet everything was going on so smoothly! I had recovered my note; the
possession of the ten thousand crowns enabled me to conceal for the
present the ruined condition of my affairs; Mary did not appear
indifferent to me, and Geronimo being out of the way, I was certain of
succeeding with her in the course of time. I would in that case become
rich and powerful; her dowry would be sufficient to save me from poverty
and a humiliating discovery. Alas! why do the people accuse the
magistrates of want of zeal? Things more surprising than the
disappearance of Geronimo have happened lately without any disturbance
among the populace. It was the public feeling that forced the bailiff to
make extraordinary efforts to discover what had become of him; it will be
the cause of my destruction! Can there be a mysterious impulse to this
unwonted excitement of the multitude? Vainly then would I struggle to
escape! Would it not be God himself pursuing me?"
The recurrence of this thought struck terror to the soul of Simon Turchi,
and he buried his head in his hands. Suddenly he started up, and although
his lips twitched convulsively, he said, in a firm, strong voice:
"Ah! ah! fatality is a spur which inspires the most cowardly with coinage.
Avaunt, foolish fears! I must struggle on to the end. The bailiff seeks a
corpse; he pledges his honor to discover one. Let him find it! Suppose he
should find it elsewhere than in my summer-house? in a sewer, for example?
Ah! anxiety had clouded my mind! Still, still, I have means for triumph!
Oh, if Julio-would come! Could I only imagine in what tavern the rascal is
gambling, I would send Bernardo for him."
Saying these words, he approached the window and looked out.
"There comes the loiterer! He walks as composedly as if nothing weighed
upon his conscience! He cares not for the preservation of my honor and my
life; since the death of Geronimo he hates and despises me. I must appear
angry and indignant, for should he suspect the fear and anxiety torturing
my soul, he would be insolent, and perhaps would laugh at my anguish."
As Julio approached the house, Simon attracted his attention by loud
talking, and having succeeded in this, he made signs of his impatience and
anger until Julio reached the door. He then closed the window, and
assuming an expression of rage he turned to meet his servant.
When Julio on entering saw his master standing with folded arms and
menacing countenance, a slight and ironical smile flitted across his face.
"Wretch!" exclaimed Simon, "did I not order you to await me here after
Change? Look well to yourself, or I will avenge myself by your blood. You
laugh! beware, or I will crush you like a worm!"
"Come, come, signor, why give way to such useless anger? It is not long
since Change. It is not my fault that you have been obliged to wait."
"Have you not been going from tavern to tavern, gambling, as you have been
doing the last five days?"
"Yes, truly. I was intolerably thirsty; but if I was not here in time, you
must blame the clock of Notre Dame; it could not have struck right, I am
sure. So be calm, signor: you know that your anger makes no impression on
me. Make haste and tell me what you want me to do. We lose precious time
in this nonsensical sort of talk. I left some friends to come and receive
your orders, and I must add that I intend returning to them as soon as I
have fulfilled your commands. You need not shake your fist at me, nor get
into a passion; it will do no good."
The disrespectful language of his servant wounded and provoked Turchi; but
perhaps seeing how useless it was to give expression to his feelings, he
suddenly changed his manner. Tears filled his eyes; grief was depicted
upon his countenance, and seating himself, he sighed and said:
"Forgive me, Julio, for my harsh words; they were spoken in impatience. It
is too early yet for you to do what I wish, and I was wrong to complain of
your long absence."
The servant, surprised at his master's humble language, regarded him
distrustfully.
"Is there any danger?" he demanded.
Turchi took his hand, and said, piteously:
"Alas! Julio, my friend, to-morrow, in all probability, we will be cast,
manacled, into a dungeon, there to await an infamous death."
"Is it not your own fear, signor, which inspires such a thought?" asked
Julio, trembling.
"No; I have heard a terrible piece of news. Geronimo was seen in the
Quarter of the Jews, and he was met going towards the Hospital Grounds.
The bailiff has determined to search to-morrow morning all the cellars in
that vicinity, and even to dig the ground on the spot where my garden
lies. The police agents are to proceed at daybreak to the Hospital
meadows, and as they cannot fail to remark that the earth has been newly
turned up, they will certainly discover what they seek. You pushed
Geronimo into the arm-chair; you buried his body; consequently you will
accompany me to the scaffold, unless, in your capacity of servant, they
may choose to hang you or break you on the wheel. O Julio! does not this
information awaken you to a sense of our perilous condition?"
"From whom did you learn all that?" asked the affrighted servant.
"From the bailiff himself."
"From his own lips?"
"Yes, my friend, from his own lips. In spite of your courage and coolness,
I think I may say that you have no stronger desire than myself to die by
the hand of the executioner."
Julio put his hand to his throat and said, dejectedly:
"The affair looks serious. I seem to be strangling; I feel the rope around
my neck. It is all your fault, signor. Why did you murder your best
friend? Did I not warn you that so frightful a crime would come to light?"
"Call it crime, if you will; but at least my just vengeance is satisfied,
and now neither complaints nor recriminations can recall the past nor
shelter us from danger."
"But, signor, what can we do to escape punishment?"
"There is a means, easy and certain. There is a means; but, Julio, it
requires good will and resolution. May I rely upon you for this last
effort?"
"What would not one be willing to do in order to escape this gallows or
the wheel?"
"Then listen to me. I told you that the bailiff would search the cellars.
If he finds the corpse in my house, we are both ruined."
"Certainly, signor."
"But suppose it be found in another place, far from this spot, who would
suspect us of the murder?"
"An excellent thought!" exclaimed Julio, joyfully. "We must carry the dead
body to a distant street and leave it there."
"Not so. They would naturally suppose that it had been removed to that
spot from some other place. A better plan is to throw it into the sewer in
the Vleminck Field. The officers of justice will then conclude that
Geronimo fell under the hand of some unknown assassin."
"That is still better! Ah! signor, you frightened me without cause. I
place very little value on my life, and yet the thought of a certain death
shatters my nerves. Now I am myself again. But how shall we manage to
transport Geronimo's body to the Vleminck Field?"
"It was for that purpose, Julio, that I was waiting so impatiently for
you," said Simon Turchi; "it was because I needed your aid to execute a
project which will save us both. Nothing is easier. You will disinter the
body, and you will throw it into the sewer."[24]
"Alone?" said the servant, in a tone which prognosticated a refusal.
"Why not alone, since you are able to do it?"
"It is very easy, signor, for you to say: 'Take the body on your shoulders
and traverse three or four streets.' Signor Geronimo is heavier than you
suppose, and I doubt if by the exertion of all my strength I could carry
it twenty steps."
Simon Turchi took his servant's two hands in his, and said,
supplicatingly:
"Julio, my friend, be generous; it is not a difficult task for one like
yourself. Reflect that it is our only means of safety; it is as much for
your interest as mine. I will recompense you largely, and I will be
grateful to you all my life."
"Well, signor, if you say so, I will try it; but I am afraid it will turn
out badly. I shall be obliged to rest on the way, and that will take more
time than will be prudent. And then how shall I be able each time to
replace the body on my shoulders? It requires two to transport it with
sufficient rapidity."
"Two?" said Turchi, "You know well that we can confide our secret to no
one."
"To escape death, one would submit to anything. Suppose you help me
yourself, signor?"
"I!" replied Turchi, shuddering, "I carry a dead body through the streets!
I, a nobleman! No, no; better a dungeon and death!"
"What a strange sentiment of honor!" muttered the astonished servant.
"Would to God, signor, that you had sooner remembered that you were a
nobleman, we would not thus be seeking, in mortal anguish, the means to
save our lives. Consider the affair as you will, you must confess that if
I carry the corpse alone, ten chances to one we shall be discovered."
While the servant thus spoke, Turchi seemed preoccupied by torturing
thoughts. After a moment he said, with a sigh:
"Alas! there is no other means; it is dangerous, but necessity demands it.
Julio, go to the summer-house, and I will send Bernardo this evening to
help you."
"What" said Julio, ironically, "will you reveal your secret?"
"No; I will command him, under penalty of his life, to do whatever you
order him; threaten to stab him at the least show of resistance, and he
will obey you."
"Impossible! Signor Bernardo is a good, pious man. He would inform upon
us. I might as well put the halter around my neck. I will have none of his
aid."
Simon Turchi, in despair at the failure of all his efforts to succeed in
his design, paced the floor impatiently. Suddenly he stopped before his
servant, and with sparkling eyes he said, in a suppressed voice:
"Julio, there must be an end to all this hesitation. We have no choice,
and whatever may be the means, we must not deliberate in presence of the
death which menaces us. Stab Bernardo, and throw him into the sewer above
the body of Geronimo."[25]
"Oh, signor, murder Bernardo!" exclaimed Julio, in horror. "And do you
suppose that he would not defend himself? that he would not give the
alarm? In that case, your servant would be recognized, and thus they would
put them on the track of the criminals. Your mind wanders."
Grinding his teeth in his agony, Turchi tossed his arms convulsively, and
at last said, hoarsely:
"You will not undertake it alone? You have not the wish to succeed. Coward
that you are, for what are you fit but to boast and drink and gamble in
the taverns? Would that I had never seen you! Leave the corpse in the
cellar; let the bailiff discover it there; we will see which of us will
meet the more courageously an infamous death!"
A prey to the keenest emotion, he fell back in his chair, and while
uttering bitter invectives against his servant, he tore his hair in real
or feigned despair.
The sight of-his master's desolation seemed to make some impression upon
Julio; he regarded him compassionately, and at last said, kindly:
"Come, signor, calm yourself. All is not lost, and if my good-will can
save you, I will show you that Julio has the courage and resolution to
carry him through a difficult enterprise. Since you think I am able to
take the corpse alone to the sewer, I will attempt it. Perhaps I may
overrate the difficulties. Be calm, and rely upon my word."
The signor knew that once having made up his mind, his servant would
unhesitatingly execute what he had undertaken, and he comprehended by his
manner that his promise was seriously made. He pressed his hand, and said,
joyfully:
"Thanks, Julio, I owe to you my honor and my life. I will never forget it,
and when once the sword, now hanging over my head, is removed, I will
reward you magnificently. Go now to the country-house, disinter the body,
and carry it up to the ground-floor. This will give you less work later.
Fill the grave thoroughly, and as far as possible destroy all appearance
of the earth having been recently dug."
Julio apparently let his master's words fall unheeded on his ear; he
suddenly struck his forehead with his fist, as if an unwelcome idea had
forced itself upon him.
"What is the matter?" asked Turchi, anxiously.
"Fool that I am!" exclaimed Julio.
"Speak lower," said Simon. "What troubles you?"
"Did you not notice, signor, how bright it was last night? It is clear
weather, and the moon is full! How could I carry a dead body to the sewer
with such light to betray me? It is impossible; I cannot think of it."
These words forced from Simon a cry of anguish. He seemed crushed under
the fate which was visibly pursuing him. The cowardice and ill-will of his
servant had not cast him into despair like this last obstacle; for he well
knew that either by threats or promises of reward he could overcome
Julio's resistance; but what could prevent the moon from shining? It was
clear that no way remained of removing Geronimo's body from the cellar,
and the officers of the law would infallibly discover where the murder had
been committed.
It was then true that for him there was no escape from ruin; that a
mysterious power opposed all his plans; perhaps God himself was
interposing to prevent him from saving his life.
The supposition made him shudder; nevertheless he tortured his mind to
discover some plank of safety; a thousand tumultuous thoughts presented
themselves. Might they not bury the body in a retired spot of the garden,
plunge it in the basin of the fountain, or conceal it under the stones of
the grotto? But none of these plans could be accomplished without leaving
traces which would lead to certain discovery.
Suddenly a happy idea seemed to occur to him, for his face brightened; he
arose and said:
"Julio, you must leave the country; it is your only means of safety."
"I leave the country!" said Julio; "and you, signor?"
"Would that I could accompany you! but I cannot say as you can: 'Where my
body is, there is all I have and all I care for.' I must of necessity
remain here: I have many interests to detain me."
Julio was astonished by the advice.
"Where shall I go? In Italy a price is set upon my head; I dare not be
seen beyond the mountains. It is too late for me to leave for England;
there are no vessels ready to sail. What could I do in Germany, ignorant
of the language of the country and without means of subsistence?"
"Save your life, Julio; go to Germany," said Turchi. "I will give you
money, plenty of money."
The deep red of the scar on his master's face, his expression of cunning,
his evident satisfaction, made Julio suspect some deception. He was
unable at first to imagine his secret design; but a light suddenly broke
upon his mind, and recoiling with horror and anger, he exclaimed:
"What an odious trap you are setting for me! You intend to accuse me of
the murder in my absence? And while poor Julio, charged with a double
crime, finds no resting-spot upon earth, you will enjoy here in entire
security, in the midst of wealth and honor, the price of the innocent
blood which you have shed. No, no, I will bring no new anathema on my
head."
"You are silly, Julio," said Simon Turchi, disdainfully. "Should we be
arrested to-morrow, and the truth known, would you not be equally punished
for having treacherously pushed Geronimo into the chair?"
"Yes; but all would know that I neither conceived the crime, nor profited
by its commission."
"A fine consolation, to contend on the scaffold!" said the signor
ironically, repressing his impatience. "But I will speak to you plainly
and without reserve. I will state my conditions; if you refuse them, then
all is at an end between us. Each of us is at liberty to save himself even
at the sacrifice of the other. The worst part of the whole is that I might
feel myself obliged, for my own security, to make known to the authorities
of Lucca who you are."
The servant regarded his master with an expression of disgust and
aversion.
"These are my conditions," said Simon. "You will leave immediately for
Germany, and reach the Rhine as soon as possible. I will give you two
hundred crowns. Procure a carriage and horse at the very first village,
and do not stop until you are in a place of safety. To prevent any
detention on the way, I will give you a letter to Signor Mazzuchelli, a
banker at Cologne. If on the journey you are asked why you have undertaken
it, say that you are on urgent business for your master, and if necessity
require it, show the letter; but once in Cologne, do not present the
letter to Mazzuchelli. Two hundred crowns! that is a fortune, Julio. With
that you can live luxuriously for two or three years. And what difference
will it make whether you know the language of the country or not. Money
understands and speaks all languages."[26]
"And when the two hundred crowns are spent, what will become of me?" said
the servant.
"I will not forsake you, Julio," said Turchi. "Whenever you need money,
inform me of it, and I will send you enough to keep you from want. But you
must change your name and simply notify me that you need money to continue
your business. And your new name? It seems to me that 'Marco Castagno'
would answer. What say you?"
Julio shook his head doubtfully, muttering between his teeth. Although the
promise of two hundred crowns was seductive, he hesitated to accept his
master's proposition.
"Why deliberate so long?" said Simon. "I offer you a certain means of
escaping the gallows, and you hesitate! Moreover, I secure you a life of
ease, independent, without cares, the free, joyous life of a lord, and yet
you refuse."
Julio seemed to have come to a decision.
"Will you give me two hundred crowns?" he demanded.
"Two hundred crowns in coin."
"Before my departure?"
"Immediately."
"Give them to me. I am in a hurry to depart."
"I will go for them," said Turchi, leaving the room.
Julio seated himself and rested his head upon his hands. But he had not
long for reflection; his master returned after a short absence.
Simon Turchi held a purse in his hands. He went to the table and counted
out four piles of gold pieces.
The sight of so much money made an impression on Julio, and he approached
the table. Joy sparkled in his eyes, and whilst he contemplated the
shining pieces, he nodded his head with an air of satisfaction.
"You see," said Simon, "that the sum is correct, and you will not find the
gold heavy to carry. Now put it in your doublet. Going down stairs I
reflected upon your good-will, and I considered whether I might not avoid
accusing you of the murder of Geronimo, and my friendship for you
suggested a means. Now that I am sure of being able, under any
circumstances, of exculpating myself, it is not necessary for me to bring
any accusation against you. Besides, Julio, I dislike to be separated from
you. If in two or three months I could bring you back without danger, I
would be delighted."
"I would be well pleased, signor," said Julio, with a sigh.
"In order to secure this chance to ourselves, Julio, you must, before
leaving, go to the country-house, level, as far as possible, the earth in
the cellar, throw sand and dust upon the grave, and then fill the cellar
with fire-wood and empty casks."
"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."
"Shall I not take my clothes, signor, or a traveling cloak?"
"No; the cloak you have on will suffice. Were you seen with any baggage,
your intention might be suspected. Appear indifferent. You can buy
whatever you may need."
The servant extended his hand to his master, and going to the door, said:
"Adieu, signor; if you do not refuse to aid me when I am in want, I will
keep your secret faithfully."
"Do your work in the cellar carefully, Julio. I wish you a pleasant
journey."
Julio descended the staircase and walked slowly down the street.
His master opened the window and watched him until he was out of sight.
Simon Turchi drew a long breath, as though the weight of a mountain had
been removed from his heart. A smile lighted up his face, and he said in
an accent of intense joy:
"He has gone! Now I have nothing to fear. The bailiff may find the body;
Julio committed the crime; I know nothing of it; I am as innocent as a
lamb. Ah! I thought I was lost. Now I must arrange my plans as though I
were certain of the discovery of the body. I feel new strength; hope and
certainty animate my heart. Mary, Mary, your name, your fortune, your love
will be mine. My life will yet be crowned with grandeur, wealth, and
happiness."
And in feverish excitement he closed the window.