Pardon him, lead him back to the path of virtue, and after death grant him eternal rest! My strength fails; the sweat of death is on my brow.

O my God! in this, my last hour, grant me the grace to die with Thy love alone in my heart, and Thy holy name alone upon my lips!" The last words of this prayer had scarcely fallen from his lips, when he cried aloud, arose trembling, and eagerly fixed his eyes upon the opposite wall, upon which a faint streak of light flickered.
"O my God! what means this ?" he exclaimed.

"Light?
light?
a voice?
Is some one coming?
Is there still hope?
I shall not die! Cruel dream! Frightful illusion! But no, it is indeed a light; it becomes brighter.

I hear a human voice.

Alas! this suspense is worse than death!" Tottering from weakness, and supporting himself by the sides of the wall, he gained the door, and trembling between hope and fear, he put his eye to the keyhole in order to discover who was approaching his person.
He saw in the distance a man with a lamp in his hand; but his gestures were so strange, and his countenance so singular, that he was at a loss to know whether it were a human being, or only a creation of his own disordered brain.
Still he heard confused sounds in the passage; a voice seemed to complain, curse, and call for aid.
By degrees the mysterious apparition drew nearer, and Geronimo recognized the servant of Simon Turchi; but why was Julio writhing in such horrible convulsions?
Why was his face so horribly contorted?
Why did he threaten and rage in such harsh accents?
A horrible conviction forced itself upon Geronimo's mind.