say to you that I do not consider it possessed of the power to preserve me
from danger. And yet I always wear it with the firm and unshaken
conviction that it will protect me in a critical hour from some
misfortune."

"Perhaps it belonged to your deceased parents," said Mr. Van de Werve,
struck by the singular explanation of the young man.

"No, sir," replied Geronimo; "this amulet is to me a cherished souvenir of
a day upon which God gave me the grace to perform a good action. I would
willingly tell you how the amulet fell into my hands, and why I believe in
its power to protect me, but it is a long story."

"I would, nevertheless, be much pleased if you would satisfy my
curiosity," said the old noble.

"If you desire it," replied Geronimo, "I will comply with your wishes.

"You know that five years ago, when I undertook for the first time the
voyage from Lucca to Antwerp, I was made prisoner by Algerian pirates, and
carried as a slave to Barbary. I was sold to a Moorish lord, who made me
work in the fields until my uncle should send the ransom which would
restore me to liberty. In the same field in which some light work was
appointed me, I saw an old blind woman attached like a mule to a plough,
and driven on by blows from a heavy stick. She was a Christian slave,
whose eyes had been put out in wanton cruelty. I learned that she was an
Italian by birth, a native of a small village in the environs of Porto
Fiero, a seaport not far from Genoa. She had no relatives who could pay
her ransom, and she had consequently been fastened to the plough like a
beast of burden until death should come to deliver her. The frightful fate