"Does she still live?" asked Mary.

"When in sight of Italy, I put her on board of a boat bound to Porto
Fiero; I gave her a small sum of money, and begged the boatman to attend
to her comforts. Poor Teresa Mostajo--that is her name--I doubt not, is
living peacefully in her native village, and prays much for me. This is
the only reason why I attribute any virtue to the amulet; I believe in the
protection of this sign because it has been sanctified by an act of
Christian charity, and by the grateful prayers of the poor blind woman
tormented by the pagans for the name of Christ."

The old cavalier remained a moment silent, absorbed in thought. Then
taking the hand of the young man, he said to him: "I did not know you
before, Geronimo. I hope it may be in my power to prove to you how much
your generosity ennobles you and elevates you in my esteem; but although
your confidence in the amulet rests on so laudable a sentiment, I would
not rely too much upon it. You know the proverb says: 'Help yourself, and
Heaven will help you.'"

"Do not suppose, Mr. Van de Werve, that on that account I would be guilty
of any foolish imprudence. I know that the eye and sword are good
sentinels. When I pass through the streets at night, I am always well
accompanied, and my hand never leaves the hilt of my sword. Therefore have
no anxiety on this 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.