He remained some time immovable as if to test the influence of the wine on his mind, swallowed half of the second bottle, drew his dagger, took the lamp, and descended the stairs, saying: 

“Now my courage will not fail me!  No more words:  a single blow and all will be over!  I must strike him in the back; he wears a cuirass on his breast.”

Opening the door of the cellar, he placed the lamp on the ground without speaking, and raising his dagger, he walked directly towards Geronimo, who lifted his hands imploringly.

Within a few steps of his victim, Julio, with an exclamation of surprise, stopped suddenly as if immovable.  His eye fell upon an object which Geronimo held in his hand and extended to him, as though it had power to turn aside the mortal blow.

It was a flat copper medal, in the centre of which was a cross and other emblems, and attached to it was a bright steel chain.

Julio, forgetful of what he was about to do, sprang forward, seized the strange medal, examined it closely, and said, in astonishment: 

“This amulet in your hands, signor!  What does it mean?  How came you by it?”

Geronimo, whose every thought was fixed upon death, was too much startled by the sudden transition to reply immediately.

“Speak, tell me whence comes this amulet?  Who gave it to you?”

“From Africa—­from a blind woman,” answered Geronimo, almost unintelligibly.

“In Africa?  And the woman’s name?” said Julio, beside himself with impatience.

“Mostajo.  Teresa Mostajo!”

“Teresa Mostajo!  You are then the liberator of my poor blind mother!”

“Then you will spare my life!  God of mercy, I thank thee, there is still hope!”

But Julio heeded not the words of the young man.

“This amulet,” he said, “recalls my native village.  I see again my father, mother, friends.  I see myself as I was before dissipation led me to sin and vice.  This amulet, brought by my grandfather from Jerusalem, protected my father against many dangers, saved my mother’s life; and you, signor, you owe to the same amulet escape from a violent death, for it turned aside my master’s dagger from your breast.  Strange and mysterious power which thus shields the victim from his executioner!”

“Julio,” said Geronimo, “keep me not in suspense.  Say that you will not take my life.  Be merciful to the man whose name is blessed by the lips of your mother!”

“Fear not, signor; rather than shed one drop of your blood, I would pay the penalty of my guilty life on the gallows.  But I must reflect upon our peculiar situation, for my mind is not clear; perhaps I may discover a means of escape.  Do not disturb me, I beg you.”

He withdrew to the corner of the cellar where he had been previously seated, and remained motionless for some time, without giving any sign of the agitation of his mind.

Geronimo regarded him at first with a look of joyful anticipation; by degrees, however, his face wore an expression of sadness and surprise; it seemed to him that Julio had fallen asleep.  He was mistaken, however, for Julio arose after a while, and said: