"God be praised! I see my uncle."

"Which is he?" inquired Mr. Van de Werve.

The young man replied, joyously: "Do you not see standing on the forecastle five or six passengers who wear parti-colored dresses, with plumed hats? In the midst of them is a man of lofty stature, completely enveloped in a brown cloak. He has long white hair, and his silvery beard looks like snow-flakes resting on his dark mantle. That is my old uncle, Signor Deodati."

"What a superb-looking old man!" exclaimed Mary, in admiration.

"In truth," said Mr. Van de Werve, "as well as I can judge at this distance, his appearance is very striking."

"My uncle inspires respect wherever he goes," said the young man, enthusiastically. "His sixty-five years appear on his brow as an aureola of experience and wisdom; he is learned, good, and generous."

And waving his hat, he cried out: "Ah, he recognizes us! He salutes us; he smiles. At last I see him after four years of separation. My God, I thank thee for having protected him!"

The young man's joy was so great that Mary and her father were also moved.

"So lively an affection for your uncle does you credit, Geronimo," said Mr. Van de Werve. "God loves a grateful heart; may He grant you to-day the desires of your heart!"

But the young man did not hear these words of encouragement; standing in the gondola, he waved to his uncle as if endeavoring to express to him by signs his joy at seeing him.

The gondola approached the galley, which slowly ascended the Scheldt in a favorable wind and with a rising tide.

The light boat soon gained the large ship. Before the ladder was lowered, Geronimo caught the cable of the galley, and ere Mary had recovered from her terror, he had reached the deck and was in his uncle's arms.

Mr. Van de Werve mounted the ladder cautiously, and approached Signor
Deodati, with whom he exchanged the most cordial salutations.

Mary remained in the gondola; she saw Geronimo embrace his uncle repeatedly; she rejoiced to perceive that the eyes of the old man were filled with tears of emotion. She was still more happy when she saw the affability with which her father and Geronimo's uncle conversed together, as though they were old friends.

Very soon the Signor Deodati descended into the gondola to accompany Mr.
Van de Werve and Geronimo to the city.

The Flemish cavalier introduced his daughter to the Italian noble.

The old man gazed upon the ravishing beauty of the young girl in speechless admiration. Mary's lovely features were illumined by an enchanting smile which moved the old man's heart; her large blue eyes were fixed upon him with so soft and supplicating an expression that the Signor Deodati, extending his hand, murmured: "E la graziosa donzella!" (The beautiful girl!)

But Mary, encouraged by his look of affection, and unconsciously urged by a mysterious instinct, extended both hands to the old man, who folded her in his arms and pressed her to his heart.

Geronimo, overjoyed at the reception given to Mary by his uncle, turned aside to conceal his emotion.

"Iddio vi dia pace in nostra patria! May God grant you peace in our country, Signor Deodati!" said Mary, taking the old man's hand. "Come sit by me; I am so happy to know you. Do not think me bold; Geronimo has spoken so much of you, that I have long respected and loved you. And then, in our Netherlands we always welcome a stranger as a brother."

Signor Deodati seated himself by her as she desired, and as the gondola returned to the city, the old man said, in surprise: "But you speak Italian like a native of Lucca. How soft and musical my native tongue sounds from your lips!"

"There is my teacher," said Mary, pointing to Geronimo.

"That is not true, my uncle. Her modesty causes her to mislead you. Miss Van de Werve speaks equally well both Spanish and French, nor is she ignorant of Latin."

"Can that be so?" asked the elder Deodati, with an incredulous smile.

"That is nothing extraordinary in our city of Antwerp," said Mr. Van de Werve. "Most ladies of noble birth, and even merchants' daughters, speak two or three foreign languages. It is a necessity rather than a pleasure for us; for since the people of the South will not or can not learn our tongue, we are obliged to become familiar with theirs."

The Signor Deodati, as though a new and sudden thought possessed his mind, seized his nephew's hand, and fixing his eyes affectionately upon him, said in a calm tone: "I am pleased with you, Geronimo. Young as you are, you have conducted prudently the affairs of a large commercial house; you have acted as an experienced man; in order to please me, you have denied yourself pleasures which are so seductive to youth. Taking the place of your father, I have kept a vigilant eye upon you, and it gladdens my old heart to know that I have in my successor a virtuous cavalier and a prudent merchant. I know your desires, my son. Be not disturbed, but hopeful. I undertook a long voyage only to recompense you, if possible, for your gratitude."

He arose, and said to Mary: "I am loath to leave you, my dear young lady; but I have a few words to say privately to your father. You will excuse me more readily, as I yield my place to Geronimo."

Saying this, he walked with Mr. Van de Werve to the extremity of the boat, where both seated themselves upon a bench.

Trembling with fear, hope, and joyous anticipations, Mary and Geronimo watched the two parents, endeavoring to divine from the expression of their countenances the result of their conversation. At first both were perfectly calm; by degrees they grew more excited; the derisive smile on the lips of Mr. Van de Werve betrayed the bitterness of his feelings, as the Signor Deodati in a decided manner counted on his fingers. They were discussing the great affair—the dowry and inheritance. Their only thought was money!

Geronimo turned pale as he saw his uncle shake his head with evident dissatisfaction; and Mary trembled as she noticed the displeased expression of her father.

The private conversation lasted a long time, and still took no favorable turn; on the contrary, the two old men ceased speaking, as though displeased with each other.

Signor Deodati addressed a question to Mr. Van de Werve, to which the latter replied negatively.

Both then arose, and approaching Geronimo and Mary, sat down in silence.
Their countenances betrayed vexation and mutual displeasure.

The young man, with tearful eyes, looked inquiringly at his uncle. Mary bowed her head, but her heaving bosom gave evidence of the struggle of her heart.

For some time there was a painful silence in the gondola. Mr. Van de
Werve contemplated his daughter, who seemed overwhelmed by sorrow. Signor
Deodati was deeply moved by Geronimo's earnest gaze.

The Italian noble was the first to break silence. "Come, sir," he said, "let us make these young people happy."

"With all my heart, signor; but what will you do? My daughter is descended from an illustrious house; she must live in the world in a manner to do honor to her birth; as her father, I have duties to fulfil which I cannot disregard."

"Poor Geronimo!" said the Signor Deodati, in a tone of compassion, and with a deep sigh. "You would accuse me of cruelty, would you not? and this lovely young girl would hate the old man for his insensibility. It was not for that I crossed the seas in my old