MONTE-CRISTO'S DAUGHTER. 

SEQUEL TO

ALEXANDER DUMAS'

GREAT NOVEL, THE "COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO, " AND CONCLUSION OF "EDMONDDANTÈS. "

BY

EDMUND FLAGG

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"MONTE-CRISTO'S DAUGHTER, " a wonderfully brilliant, original, exciting and absorbing novel, is the Sequel to "The Count ofMonte-Cristo, " Alexander Dumas' masterwork, and the continuationand conclusion of that great romance, "Edmond Dantès. " It possessesrare power, unflagging interest and an intricate plot that forconstructive skill and efficient development stands unrivalled. Zuleika, the beautiful daughter of Monte-Cristo and Haydée, is theheroine, and her suitor, the Viscount Giovanni Massetti, an ardent, impetuous young Roman, the hero. The latter, through a flirtationwith a pretty flower-girl, Annunziata Solara, becomes involved in amaze of suspicion that points to him as an abductor and anassassin, causes his separation from Zuleika and converts him intoa maniac. The straightening out of these tangled complicationsconstitutes the main theme of the thrilling book. The novel aboundsin ardent love scenes and stirring adventures. The Count ofMonte-Cristo figures largely in it, and numerous Monte-Cristocharacters are introduced. "MONTE-CRISTO'S DAUGHTER" is the latestaddition to Petersons' famous series, consisting of "The Count ofMonte-Cristo, " "Edmond Dantès, " "The Countess of Monte-Cristo, ""The Wife of Monte-Cristo, " and "The Son of Monte-Cristo. "

 * * * * *

NEW YORK:

WM. L. ALLISON COMPANY

PUBLISHERS. 

CONTENTS

Chapter. Page. I. MONTE-CRISTO AND THE PRIMA DONNA 21

 II. A STRANGELY SENT EPISTLE 33

 III. THE INTRUDER IN THE CONVENT GARDEN 45

 IV. A STORMY INTERVIEW 57

 V. ANNUNZIATA SOLARA 69

 VI. THE POWER OF A NAME 81

 VII. IN THE PEASANT'S HUT 91

 VIII. A SYLVAN IDYL 101

 IX. THE ABDUCTION 112

 X. THE COUNTESS OF MONTE-CRISTO 130

 XI. THE BEGGAR AND HIS MATES 142

 XII. FATHER AND DAUGHTER 156

 XIII. MORCERF'S ADVENTURE 166

 XIV. ZULEIKA AND MME. MORREL 183

 XV. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 195

 XVI. AMID THE COLOSSEUM'S RUINS 206

 XVII. PEPPINO'S STORY 218

 XVIII. MORE OF PEPPINO'S STORY 228

 XIX. THE MANIAC OF THE COLOSSEUM 238

 XX. THE ISLE OF MONTE-CRISTO 248

 XXI. ZULEIKA LEARNS THE TRUTH 264

 XXII. THE WONDROUS PHYSICIAN 274

 XXIII. A MODERN MIRACLE 285

 XXIV. A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER 296

 XXV. A VISIT TO THE REFUGE 306

 XXVI. VAMPA AND MONTE-CRISTO 316

 XXVII. THE BANDITS' REPRISALS 326

XXVIII. THE RAID ON THE BANDITS 336

 XXIX. VAMPA'S TRIAL 346

 XXX. JOY UNBOUNDED 363

MONTE-CRISTO'S DAUGHTER. 

_SEQUEL TO ALEXANDER DUMAS' GREAT NOVEL, "THE COUNT OFMONTE-CRISTO, " AND CONTINUATION AND CONCLUSION OF "EDMOND DANTÈS. "_

CHAPTER I. 

MONTE-CRISTO AND THE PRIMA DONNA. 

The Count of Monte-Cristo was in Rome. He had hired one of the numerousprivate palaces, the Palazzo Costi, situated on a broad thoroughfarenear the point where the Ponte St. Angelo connects Rome proper with thattranstiberine suburb known as the Leonine City or Trastavere. Theimpecunious Roman nobility were ever ready to let their palaces totitled foreigners of wealth, and Ali, acting for the Count, hadexperienced no difficulty in procuring for his master an abode that evena potentate might have envied him. It was a lofty, commodious edifice, built of white marble in antique architectural design, and commandedfrom its ample balconies a fine view of the Tiber and its western shore, upon which loomed up that vast prison and citadel, the Castle of St. Angelo, and the largest palace in the world, the Vatican. 

The Count of Monte-Cristo had always liked Rome because of itspicturesque, mysterious antiquity, but his present mission there hadnothing whatever to do with his individual tastes. He had fixed himselffor a time in the Eternal City that his daughter Zuleika, Haydée's[1]child, might finish her education at a famous convent school conductedunder the auspices of the Sisterhood of the Sacred Heart. 

Zuleika was fifteen years of age, but looked much older, having theearly maturity of the Greeks, whose ardent blood, on her dead mother'sside, flowed in her youthful veins. She had attained her full height, and was tall and well-developed. She strongly resembled her mother, possessing brilliant beauty of the dreamy, voluptuous oriental type. Herhair was abundant and black as night. She had dark, flashing eyes, pearly teeth, full ruby lips and feet and hands that were of fairylikediminutiveness, as well as miracles of grace and dainty shapeliness. Intemperament she was more like Haydée than the Count, though shepossessed her father's quick decision and firmness, with the addition ofmuch of his enthusiasm. 

The Palazzo Costi was magnificently furnished, so the Count had made noalterations in that respect, bringing with him only the family wardrobeand a portion of his library, consisting mainly of oriental manuscriptswritten in weird, cabalistic characters and intelligible to no one buthimself. 

The household was made up solely of the Count, his son Espérance, [2] hisdaughter Zuleika, the faithful Nubian mute Ali and five or six male andfemale domestics. Having no other object than his daughter's education, the Count wished to live in as thorough retirement as he could, but itwas impossible for him to keep his presence a secret, and no sooner hadit become known that he was in Rome than he was besieged by hosts ofcallers belonging to the highest nobility, mingled with whom camenumerous patriots, disciples of the unfortunate Savonarola, distinguished for their firm devotion to the cause of Italian liberty. 

At an early hour of the morning upon which this narrative opens theCount of Monte-Cristo sat alone in a small apartment of the PalazzoCosti, which had been arranged as his study and in which his preciousmanuscripts were stored in closely locked cabinets. The Count had a copyof a Roman newspaper before him, and his eyes were fixed on a paragraphthat seemed to have fascinated him as the serpent fascinates the bird. The paragraph read as follows:

"Mlle. Louise d' Armilly, the famous prima donna, who will sing to-nightat the Apollo Theatre her great rôle of _Lucrezia Borgia_, has, itappears, a deep impenetrable mystery surrounding her. She is French bybirth, and is said to be the daughter of a banker, who vanished underpeculiar circumstances, but, as she positively declines to speak of herhistory, we can only give the rumors concerning her for what they areworth. M. Léon d' Armilly, brother of the prima donna, who supports herin Donizetti's opera, also refuses to be communicative. At any rate, themere hint of the mystery has already caused quite a flutter ofexcitement in high society circles and that is sufficient to insure acrowded house. "

"Louise d' Armilly!" murmured the Count, half-audibly. "The name isfamiliar, certainly, though where I have seen or heard it before Icannot now recall. The lady is French by birth, the paper says, and thatfact, at least, is a sufficient pretext for me to visit her. I will callon her as a fellow countryman, and the interview will demonstrate if sheis known to me. "

The Count arose, went to his desk and, seating himself there, wrote thefollowing brief epistle:

"Edmond Dantès, [3] Count of Monte-Cristo, desires permission to callupon Mlle. Louise d' Armilly at ten o'clock this morning. In this desireM. Dantès is actuated solely by the wish to lay the homage of aFrenchman at the feet of so distinguished an artiste of his own nationas Mlle. D' Armilly. "

Having finished, sealed and addressed this note, the Count touched abell which was immediately answered by the ever-watchful Nubian. 

"Ali, " said the Count, in the Arabic tongue, "take this letter to theHôtel de France and wait for a reply. "

The faithful servant bowed almost to the floor, took the missive anddeparted. When he had gone, the Count walked the apartment with the longstrides habitual to him at such times as he was engrossed by someall-powerful thought. 

"Surely, " he muttered, "this artiste can in no way interest mepersonally, and yet I feel a subtile premonition that it would be wisein me to see her. "

He was still pacing the study when Ali returned. The Nubian's usuallyimpassible face bore traces of excitement and horror. He prostratedhimself at his master's feet and, with his visage pressed against thefloor, held up his hand, presenting to the Count the identical letter ofwhich he had been the bearer. 

"Why, how is this, Ali?" asked the Count, frowning. "My letter sent backwithout an answer. The seal has been broken, too. It must have beenread. "

The mute slowly arose and began an eloquent pantomime which his masterreadily translated into words: "You went to the Hôtel de France and sentup the letter. In ten minutes it was returned to you by the lady'svalet, who said all the answer the Count of Monte-Cristo deserved fromhis mistress was written on the back. "

Ali nodded his head in confirmation of his master's translation, lookingas if he expected to be severely reprimanded for being the bearer ofsuch an indignity. The Count, however, merely smiled. Curiosity ratherthan anger predominated in him. He turned the letter over and read, scrawled in pencil in a woman's hand, the following brief andenigmatical but insulting communication:

"Any Frenchman save the ignominious M. Dantès, the so-called Count ofMonte-Cristo, would be welcome to Mlle. D' Armilly. That person she doesnot wish to see and will not. "

The Count was perplexed and also amused. The fervor of the prima donnamade him smile. He certainly did not know her, certainly had never seenher. Why then was she so bitter against him? He could make nothing outof it. Was it possible her name was really as familiar to him as it hadseemed? The irate artiste had surely heard of the Count of Monte-Cristoand, therefore, could not be mistaken in regard to his identity, but inwhat way could he have injured her or incurred her anger? The more hethought of the matter the more perplexed he grew. As he was debatingwithin himself what action he ought to take, there was a knock at thedoor and a domestic entered, handing him a card upon which wasinscribed: "Captain Joliette. "

"Ha!" cried Monte-Cristo, "he comes in time. He will aid me in solvingthis mystery. "

He motioned Ali from the study, and directed the valet who had broughtthe card to show the visitor up at once. In another instant CaptainJoliette entered the room. The Count sprang forward to greet him. 

"Welcome, Captain, " said he. "I have not seen you since our stirringadventures in Algeria. [4] I hope you are well and happy. By the way, what are you doing, in Rome? I was not aware you were here. "

"I am here simply by chance, " answered the young soldier, with a blushthat belied his words. "I was in Italy on a little pleasure trip andnaturally drifted to the Eternal City. I learned only this morning thatyou were installed at the Palazzo Costi and instantly hastened to pay myrespects. "

When their cordial greetings were over and they were seated side by sideupon a commodious sofa luxuriously upholstered in crimson silk, theCount said, abruptly:

"Captain, did you ever hear of a French opera singer named Louise d'Armilly?"

Again the young man colored deeply, a circumstance that did not escapethe close observation of his companion, who instantly divined that thefamous prima donna counted for more in the reasons that had brought theCaptain to Rome than that gallant warrior was willing to admit. 

"Yes, " stammered Joliette, "I have heard of her, and report says she isa remarkably charming lady as well as a great artiste. "

"Your tone is enthusiastic, my dear Captain, " returned Monte-Cristo, smiling pleasantly. "Perhaps you are acquainted with Mlle. D' Armilly. "

"Well, to confess, Count, " said Joliette, with a laugh, "I am acquaintedwith her, and, curiously enough, part of my mission here to-day was toask you to occupy a box at the performance of 'Lucrezia Borgia' thisevening. Will you accept?"

"With genuine delight, " was Monte-Cristo's ready answer. "I desire tosee this mysterious prima donna for more than one reason. In the firstplace, her name is dimly familiar to me, though I cannot remember whereI ever heard it, and, in the second place, she flatly refused a visitfrom me no later than this morning. "

Joliette looked greatly surprised. 

"Refused a visit from you, Count! I would not believe it did I not hearit from your own lips. Mlle. D' Armilly must be mad! She surely cannotknow what an honor it is to receive a visit from the Count ofMonte-Cristo!"

The Count smiled in his peculiar way, and handed the Captain Mlle. D'Armilly's singular reply to his note. The young man glanced at it inamazement, reading it again and again; finally he stammered out:

"It is her handwriting, but what can she mean?"

"That is exactly what I would like to know, and I see by your manner andwords that you are powerless to enlighten me. Still, you can tell me whothis Mlle. D' Armilly is, and that will in all probability furnish mewith the key to her rather shabby treatment of me. "

"My dear Count, I am acquainted with the young lady, it is true, but, like yourself, I am in total ignorance so far as her history isconcerned. She is French, that is evident, and she has gone so far asto admit to me that Louise d' Armilly is only her professional name, but what her real name is she has more than once positively refused todisclose to me. She is equally reticent as to the rumors afloatregarding her. You are, doubtless, aware that she is reputed to be thedaughter of a French banker who mysteriously disappeared. This sheneither denies nor affirms; she merely maintains an obstinate silencewhenever it is mentioned in her presence. "

"Your recital interests me greatly, Captain, " said Monte-Cristo. "Youare more privileged than myself in that you enjoy the acquaintance ofthis eccentric young lady, but she does not seem to repose a greaterdegree of confidence in you than in me, for she has told you absolutelynothing. "

"Well, " said Joliette, "you will see her to-night, at any rate, despiteher prohibition. She cannot keep you out of the theatre, for the box ispurchased and here are the tickets. "

"But she will be angry with you, Captain, " said the Count, slyly, "forbringing such an undesirable auditor. I had better go alone and occupysome obscure seat. I do not wish you to forfeit Mlle. D' Armilly'ssmiles for me. "

"Pshaw!" replied Joliette, "there is plainly some mistake. She does notknow you, will not recognize you. She has certainly confounded you withsome one else. "

"Perhaps so, " said Monte-Cristo; "but women's memories are good, and Iwarn you that you are taking a grave risk. "

"None whatever, I assure you. It is more than likely that, in answeringyour note as she did, Mlle. D' Armilly was influenced solely by caprice. If she should ask me after the performance who was my companion, I haveonly to give you a fictitious name and she will be none the wiser. "

That evening Captain Joliette and the Count of Monte-Cristo made theirway through the dense throng in front of the Apollo Theatre, and werefinally shown into a lower proscenium box commanding a full view of thestage. Monte-Cristo instinctively sought refuge behind the curtains anddrapery of the box, where he could sit unobserved and yet be enabled toclosely scrutinize the mysterious singer who appeared to have such anintense aversion for him. 

Although still early the house was already crowded in every part, andthrongs were unable to gain even admission. The vast audience was madeup chiefly of the best and most fashionable society in Rome. It includedmany of the highest nobility, who occupied the boxes they held for theseason. Everywhere the bright colored, elegant toilets of the ladies metthe eye, while the gentlemen were brilliant in fête attire. Fresh youngfaces and noble old visages were side by side, the beauty of youth andthe impressiveness of age, and the male countenances were not lessstriking than those of the females. Truly, it was a grand assemblage, one that should delight the heart and flatter the vanity of even themost capricious of prima donnas. 

At first there was a low hum of conversation throughout the theatre, together with preliminary visits from box to box, but the flutter beganto subside as the musicians appeared, and by the time they were in theirplaces in the orchestra absolute silence reigned. When the conductormade his appearance he was greeted with a burst of applause, which hegracefully acknowledged with a profound bow. Then he grasped his bâton, tapped lightly upon the rack in front of him, and the delightfuloverture to Donizetti's great work commenced. 

At its conclusion the curtain slowly rose and the opera began. Mlle. D'Armilly came forth in due course, and the house fairly rung withplaudits of welcome. She sang divinely and acted with consummate art, receiving loud encores for all her numbers. Monte-Cristo who waspassionately fond of music, caught the prevailing enthusiasm andgradually emerged from the shelter of the protecting curtains anddrapery. He had scanned Mlle. D' Armilly carefully through hisopera-glass and was thoroughly convinced that she was a perfect strangerto him, although now and then a tone, a gesture or a movement of thebody vaguely conveyed a sense of recognition of some tone, gesture ormovement he had heard or seen somewhere before. The Count, however, reflected that all women possessed certain points of resemblance invoice and bearing; he, therefore, passed the present coincidences overas purely accidental, thinking no more of them. 

For a long while Mlle. D' Armilly did not glance at the box occupied byCaptain Joliette and the Count of Monte-Cristo, [5] and it was not untilthe former threw her a costly wreath of flowers that she turned her eyesin that direction. She was about bowing her acknowledgments, when hergaze rested upon the stately form of the Count. Instantly she paused inthe centre of the stage, turned deadly pale beneath the paint of hermake-up, and, with a loud scream, fell in a swoon. The curtain was atonce rung down, and the director, stating that the prima donna had beenseized with sudden and alarming indisposition, dismissed the audience. Captain Joliette rushed to Mlle. D' Armilly's dressing-room and theCount of Monte-Cristo wended his way back to the Palazzo Costi, utterlybewildered by what had taken place. 

FOOTNOTES:

[1] A full account of the life of Haydée, will be found in that greatromance "The Wife of Monte-Cristo, " published complete and unabridged byT. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia. 

[2] A full account of his life and of Espérance's remarkable career willbe found in that absorbing novel, "The Son of Monte-Cristo, " publishedcomplete and unabridged by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia. 

[3] For a full account of the life and career of "Edmond Dantès, " one ofthe most powerful and thrilling novels ever issued, see "Edmond Dantès, "published complete and unabridged by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia. 

[4] See "The Son of Monte-Cristo, " complete and unabridged edition, published by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia. 

[5] For a full account of the life and remarkable career of "The Countof Monte-Cristo, " Alexander Dumas' masterpiece, one of the greatestromances ever written, see the illustrated and unabridged edition of it, published by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia. 

CHAPTER II. 

A STRANGELY SENT EPISTLE. 

Zuleika, Monte-Cristo's daughter, had been for some months in theconvent school conducted by the Sisterhood of the Sacred Heart. She wasnot a close student though a rapid learner, and was rather inclined toromance and adventure than to musty books of history and science. As hasalready been stated, she had the early maturity of Greek girls. Besides, she had attracted the attention of several Roman youths of high andnoble lineage, who had eagerly paid her the homage due to her beauty andoriental attractiveness. Though but fifteen, she appreciated and feltflattered by this homage, and naturally was impatient of the restraintput upon her by the regulations of the convent school, which rigorouslyexcluded all male visitors save parents or guardians. 

In the first rank of her youthful admirers was the Viscount GiovanniMassetti. He was more ardent than any of the rest and, indeed, wasdesperately in love with the fair and bewitching child of the deadHaydée. He belonged to a family of great antiquity and boundless wealth, and was reputed to possess a vast fortune in his own right. The Viscountwas only in his twenty-first year, but was exceedingly manly, dashingand gallant. He was quite handsome and was said to be the soul ofhonor, though his ardent temperament and headlong pursuit of whatever hemost coveted not unfrequently involved him in serious troubles, fromwhich, thanks to his own tact and the vast influence of his family, hegenerally came out unscathed. 

On Zuleika's arrival in Rome and before she had been placed in theconvent school, the Viscount Massetti had made her acquaintance in a waythat savored of romance and that made a deep impression upon theinexperienced young girl. In Monte-Cristo's carriage, attended only by atimid femme de chambre, she was one day crossing one of the two bridgesleading to the Island of San Bartolomeo, when a trace broke and thehorses took fright. The terrified driver lost control of them, and themad animals dashed along at a fearful rate, almost overturning thecarriage. Zuleika had arisen in the vehicle, which was an open barouche, and was wildly clinging to the back of the front seat, her face whitewith fear and her long black hair, which had become loosened, streamingout behind her. Her wide open eyes had in them a look of tearfulsupplication most difficult to resist. The young Viscount, who wasriding over the bridge on horseback at the time of the accident, couldnot resist it. He sprang from his horse and, as the carriage passed him, leaped into it. Seizing Zuleika by the waist, and holding her tightly tohim, he then made another spring, alighting safely with her upon theroadway of the bridge. The flying horses were ultimately stopped and theoccupants of the badly shattered vehicle rescued from their dangeroussituation. This adventure caused the Count of Monte-Cristo to throw openthe doors of his palazzo to the young Italian, and he had been afrequent visitor there up to the time of Zuleika's departure for theconvent school. 

In the interval both the Viscount and the girl had become much attachedto each other, and then this mutual attachment had rapidly ripened intomutual love of that ardor and intensity experienced only by children ofthe southern or oriental sun. Young Massetti had avowed his passion tohis beautiful charmer, and the avowal had not caused her displeasure; itwas, on the contrary, exceedingly agreeable to her and she did not seekto conceal the fact from her enthusiastic suitor. 

The momentous interview took place in a densely shaded alley of thegarden of the Palazzo Costi one sultry afternoon of the early autumn. The youthful couple were seated very near each other upon a rusticbench. Massetti held Zuleika's small, soft hand in his and the electrictouch of her tiny and shapely fingers thrilled him as the touch offemale fingers had never thrilled him before. He gazed into the liquiddepths of her dark, glowing eyes and their subtile fire seemed to melthis very soul. The close, sultry atmosphere, laden with heavy, intoxicating perfumes, was fraught with a delirious influence wellcalculated to set the blood aflame and promote the explosion of pent-uplove. The thick, green foliage enclosed the pair as in a verdant cloud, effectually concealing them from observation. The opportunity wasirresistible. Giovanni drew closer to his fascinating companion, soclosely that her fragrant breath came full in his face, utterlysubjecting him and totally obliterating all caution, everything save hisabsorbing passion for the palpitating girl whose slight, but clear-cutform, gracefully-outlined beneath her flowing, half-oriental garments, touched his. Suddenly carried away by a powerful transport, he threw hisarm around the young girl's yielding waist and drew her withoutresistance upon his bosom, where she lay, gazing up into his flushed, excited countenance with an indescribable, voluptuous charm, mingledwith thorough confidence and unhesitating innocence. Panting in hisclasp, her ruby lips partly opened as if for breath, and the ardentItalian hastily, recklessly imprinted a fiery kiss upon them. Zuleika, with an almost imperceptible movement, returned this chaste, butravishing salute. 

"Oh! how I love you!" murmured Giovanni, quivering from head to foot inhis wild ecstasy, and clasping the lovely girl still tighter. 

She made no verbal response, but did not stir, did not strive toextricate herself from his warm embrace This was a sufficient answer forthe quick Italian. Zuleika, the beautiful Zuleika, returned his love, favored his suit. His joy approached delirium. 

"Oh! Zuleika, " he whispered, gazing directly into her night black eyes, "you love me, I am sure! Give me the treasures of your virgin heart! Bemine--be my wife!"

"Oh! Giovanni, " returned the quivering girl, in a low, but sweetlymodulated voice, "I do love you--God alone knows how much!--but I amtoo young to be your wife! I am only a child, not yet out of school. Myfather would not hear of my marrying for several years to come. Can younot wait?"

"It will be a hard task, Zuleika, " answered the young man, excitedly;"but, still, I will wait if you give me a lover's hope. Promise to marryme when you are at liberty to do so, nay, swear it, and I shall besatisfied!"

"I can neither promise nor swear it, Giovanni, without my father'sapproval and consent. He is a wise, experienced and thoughtful man, tender and mild to every one he loves, though hard and implacable to hisenemies. Speak to him of me, of your love, of your wish. He will listento you and he will not imperil his daughter's happiness. Go to himwithout delay, and rest assured that whatever he says or does will befor the best interests of us both. "

She had released herself from his clasp and drawn slightly away fromhim, not in terror, not in prudery, not in coquetry, but as a measure ofprudence. She felt intuitively that the wild, intense passion of herItalian adorer must be kept within discreet limits. 

"I cannot speak to your father yet, " replied Giovanni, hesitatingly. "Hemight listen to me, it is true; but he would treat our love as a merechildish fancy that time could not fail to dim, if not obliterate. I amdeeply in earnest, Zuleika, and could not bear to be treated as athoughtless, headlong stripling, who did not know his own mind. Ridicule, even in its mildest form, would fire my blood, fill me withmad projects of revenge. I prefer not to ask your father for your handuntil certain of a favorable reception of my suit. You comprehend myscruples, do you not, Zuleika? I love you too dearly not to win you whenI ask!"

"But you will speak to my father?" said the girl, in faltering tones. 

"Yes, darling, oh! yes; but not until that hated convent school hasceased to oppose its barriers between us. When you have left it, whenyou have completed the education the Count designs for you, I will seekyour father and ask you of him for my wife; until then, until I can withsafety speak, at least promise me that you will love no other man, encourage no other suitor. "

"That I will do, " responded the girl, joyously. "Rest assured I willlove no other man, encourage no other suitor!"

Unable to control himself, the Viscount again clasped the object of hisadoration in his arms, and again their lips met in a long, passionatekiss of love. 

So it was settled, and Zuleika went to the convent school of the SacredHeart, feeling that her happiness was assured, but impatient of anddissatisfied with the long delay that must necessarily intervene beforethe realization of her hopes, the dawn of her woman's future. 

The Viscount Massetti, though he had professed himself willing to wait, was, on his side, thoroughly discontented with the arduous task he hadundertaken. It was one thing to make a rash promise in the heat ofenthusiasm, but quite another to keep it, especially when that promiseinvolved a separation from the lovely girl who had inextricably entwinedherself about the fibres of his heart and was the sole guiding star ofhis life and love. 

The convent school of the Sacred Heart was located in the convent ofthat Sisterhood, about three miles beyond the Porta del Popolo on thenorthern side of Rome. The convent was a spacious edifice, but gloomyand forbidding, with the aspect of a prison. Narrow, barred windows, like those of a dungeon of the middle ages, admitted the light fromwithout, furnishing a dim, restricted illumination that gave but littleevidence of the power and brilliancy of the orb of day. At night thefaint, sepulchral blaze of candles only served to make the darknesspalpable and more ghastly. 

The huge school-room was as primitive and comfortless in itsappointments and furniture as well could be. The walls were of dressedstone and loomed up bare and grisly to a lofty ceiling that was coveredwith a perfect labyrinth of curiously carved beams, the work of someunknown artist of long ago. The scholars' dormitories were narrowcell-like affairs, scantily furnished, in which every light must beextinguished at the hour of nine in the evening. Once admitted to theschool, the pupils were not permitted to leave its precincts save atvacation or at the termination of their course of studies, acircumstance that heartily disgusted the gay, light-hearted Italiangirls sent there to receive both mental and moral training. Anothersource of grave vexation to them was the regulation, already alluded to, that rigorously excluded all male visitors, with the exception ofparents or guardians. 

Attached to the convent was an extensive garden, full of huge trees thathad, apparently, stood there for centuries, so bent, gnarled and agedwere they. An ancient gardener, with a flowing beard as white as snowand scanty locks of the same spotless hue, aided by two or threeassistants almost as ancient as himself, attended to the lawns and vastflower-beds, the latter being kept constantly filled with plants ofgorgeous bloom and exquisite fragrance. The picturesque appearance ofthe garden contrasted strongly and strangely with the rigid and staidaspect of the convent edifice, and this garden was the one spot wherethe pupils felt at home and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. They wereallowed to walk there at noon and towards twilight in the evening, underthe supervision of Sister Agatha, a sharp-sighted and vigilant nun, whonever failed to rebuke and correct her vivacious charges for even theslightest infraction of discipline. Still, the girls enjoyed themselvesin the garden, for its extent and the fact that Sister Agatha could notbe everywhere at once enabled the frisky and light-hearted pupils toindulge in many an escapade. 

One noon Zuleika, who was in an unusually despondent frame of mind, strayed from the rest of her companions and strolled beneath thecentenarian trees. Unconsciously she approached the lofty wall of thegarden. She seated herself at the foot of a gnarled old elm, the leafybranches of which descended to the ground and effectually screenedMonte-Cristo's daughter from view. At least, so she thought, but thoughshe could not be seen by any within the garden enclosure she was plainlyvisible from the wall and the trees looming above it without. 

As Zuleika sat pondering on her lot and sadly thinking of her separationfrom her lover, she heard or imagined she heard a singular noise amidthe thick boughs of an immense chestnut tree immediately outside thegarden wall. She started up in affright, but could discern nothingunusual, and the singular noise was not repeated. The strangest part ofthe whole affair, however, was that the noise had sounded like her ownname uttered by a human voice. This increased her terror and confusion, and she was about to flee from the spot when an oblong pebble to whichsomething white was attached fluttered over the wall and fell at herfeet. She was now more alarmed then ever and took several stepsbackward, the while regarding the white object that lay where it hadfallen, motionless and fascinating. 

Finally her curiosity obtained the mastery, and, approaching thesuspicious object with the utmost caution, she bent over to examine it. It was an ordinary envelope and, no doubt, contained a letter. For whomwas it intended? Obviously for one of the pupils. It was a clandestineepistle, too, otherwise it would have come by the regular channelthrough the post office. Perhaps it was a love letter. At this thoughtshe gave a guilty start and gazed piercingly into the chestnut tree, butnothing was visible there save boughs and leaves. After all, the epistlewas, doubtless, destined for some swarthy-visaged Italian beauty, andmany such were in the convent school. That it had fallen at her feet wascertainly but a mere coincidence. It was not, it could not be intendedfor her! Its rightful owner, who had clearly received many similar notesin the same way, knew where it was and presently would come for it. Theenvelope had fallen face downward, and she could not see the address. She touched it with her foot, then cautiously turned it with the tip ofher shoe. She saw writing. It was the address. Somehow the arrangementof the characters seemed familiar to her, though she was so dazed andconfused she could not make out the name. Her curiosity was unworthy ofher, she knew, unworthy of Monte-Cristo's daughter. What right had sheto pry into the heart secret of one of her school companions? Still shegazed; she could not help it. Suddenly she stooped and took the envelopefrom the ground. The address riveted her eyes like a magician's spell. Great heavens! it was her own name--Zuleika!

Hurriedly snapping the slight string that bound the envelope to thestone, she thrust the former into the bosom of her dress. Then sheglanced around her, half-fearing she had been seen by some of the pupilsor the watchful Sister Agatha. But no, she was unobserved, and even nowher companions and the nun were at such a distance that she could readher letter without the slightest danger of being discovered orinterrupted. The temptation was strong. She yielded to it. She wouldread the letter. She felt convinced that it was from the ViscountMassetti, and the conviction filled her with unutterable joy. She hadnot heard a word concerning him since she had been immured within thesombre walls of that dismal convent, and now she had tidings of him inhis own handwriting! It was rapture! What had he written to her? Anassurance of his love, no doubt, and, perhaps, an exhortation to her tokeep her part of their agreement--to love no other man, to encourage noother suitor! Surely she loved no one else--she never could love any onebut Giovanni Massetti, for did he not possess her whole heart, all thewealth of her ardent youthful affection?

She kissed the envelope, then opened it, took out the letter, which waswritten in pencil, and read:

 DEAREST ZULEIKA: I can keep from you no longer. I must see you once more and again call you my own. I strove to attract your attention just now in the chestnut tree outside the wall. I uttered your beloved name, but you did not seem to understand me. This evening at twilight I will scale the wall. At that time be at the elm where you now stand and I will meet you there. Do not fail me, and, above all, do not be afraid. I assure you that no harm can possibly befall either of us. Meet me, darling. Your own, GIOVANNI. 

Zuleika stood staring at this passionate note with sensations made upof amazement, rapture and dismay. Giovanni, her lover, was coming. Hewould stand there, on that very spot, and she would see him in all theglory of his youthful manhood, with the radiant love-light in his eyes. But how if he were discovered? What then would become of him and of her?She shuddered at the possibilities of danger. But on one point she wasresolved--she would meet him let the danger be what it might. HowGiovanni would manage to avoid observation she did not know, but shewould trust to his judgment and discretion. 

She glanced in the direction of the pupils and Sister Agatha. They werecoming slowly towards her. Again secreting her lover's epistle in herbosom, she went to meet them. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE INTRUDER IN THE CONVENT GARDEN. 

As the hour for the evening promenade drew near, Zuleika becamepainfully excited, and uneasy. She longed with all her heart to seeGiovanni Massetti again, to hear the ardent words of love he would besure to utter, but would she be doing right to meet him clandestinelyand alone? Her mind misgave her. Of course she could trust her youngItalian lover, for he was the very soul of chivalry and honor. But didothers know this? How would her conduct be judged should the otherpupils and Sister Agatha steal upon them unawares? Giovanni might escapewithout recognition, but with her it would be altogether different. Shecould escape only by coining an ingenious lie, and at that her wholenature revolted. She could not stoop to an innocent deception, much lessto an absolute falsehood. Why had Giovanni tempted her? Why had hesought to place her in a situation he must know would be perilous? Therewas but one answer--because of his love--and that answer was sufficientto induce her to take the risk, however great it might be. Yes, shewould meet him at the appointed time and spot. 

At length the bell rang for the promenade, and Sister Agatha headed thelittle procession for the garden. For a brief space Zuleika lingeredwith her companions among the shady walks and gorgeous flowers, but atthe first opportunity stole away and sought the leafy elm, beneath thefriendly boughs of which she was to receive the welcome yet dreadedvisit from the Viscount Massetti. She gained the rendezvous unobserved, with loudly beating heart. The young Italian was not there. She searchedeagerly but vainly for him in the gathering twilight. What had happenedto prevent his coming? She was on thorns of anxiety. Perhaps he hadattempted to scale the wall and had fallen, sustaining some severeinjury! Perhaps even then, while she was waiting for him, he was lyingoutside the wall, bruised and bleeding! But what could she do? Onlywait, wait, with torturing thoughts seething in her troubled brain. 

She listened intently. Not a sound. If Giovanni were wounded, disabled, he was maintaining a most heroic silence. She drew a magnificent goldwatch, the exquisite case of which was thickly incrusted with diamonds, from her belt and glanced at the dial. It was after seven o'clock, andby eight all the scholars were required to be safely housed within theconvent. Besides, she was not sure that she would not be missed, searched for and found. What should she do, what course should she take?

As she was debating within herself, uncertain whether to remain orreturn, there was a rustle amid the foliage of the chestnut treeimmediately outside the garden enclosure, and a man's form swung fromone of the branches to the top of the wall. Zuleika's emotion well-nighovercame her. She had recognized Giovanni. In another instant he hadleaped from the wall to the ground and was at her side. He stretched outhis arms to her and the girl, all of a tremble, impetuously cast herselfinto them. 

"Oh! Giovanni!" she murmured. "At last. I feared some terrible accidenthad befallen you. "

"I am safe, darling Zuleika, " answered the young Italian, folding her ina close embrace and showering ardent kisses upon her forehead and lips. "But you, dearest, you are well? You have not forgotten me, have notceased to love me?"

"Forgotten you, ceased to love you, Giovanni!" whispered the quiveringgirl, in a tone of slight reproach, gazing fondly into his eyes. "Have Inot given you my solemn promise to love you only?"

"Forgive me, my own!" cried the youthful Viscount. "What is a loverwithout fears and doubts? They are the proof of the strength of hisadoration!"

They seated themselves at the foot of the branching elm, the friendlyshelter of which shut them in. Then Zuleika said, with apprehension inher voice:

"Why did you come here, Giovanni? Are you not aware that you are runninga great risk and putting me in peril? If we are found together, you willbe ignominiously expelled and I severely punished. Besides, think of thedisgrace for us both in such an event! The matter will get abroad, furnish food for gossip and certainly reach the ears of my father andbrother, whose displeasure I dread more than all else! Think, too, thatEspérance will call you to account for your conduct, and I could neverbear a quarrel between you and him in which, perhaps, blood might beshed!"

"Never fear, Zuleika, " replied Massetti, gallantly. "Should we bediscovered I will shield you. As to your father and brother, they cannotbe displeased, for I will explain all to them and end by demanding youin marriage. Why have I come here? Simply because I could hold alooffrom you no longer. I felt that I must see you, speak with you, renew myvows of love. Oh! Zuleika, the world is all dark to me without yoursmile!"

"But you promised me to wait!"

"I know it; but I miscalculated my strength when I made that promise. Could I see you I might be patient; but to wait for weeks and weekswithout even a glimpse of your dear face, without once hearing the soundof your beloved voice, is utterly beyond me. I cannot do it!"

"You must. Nothing else can be done. My father wishes me to remain atthe convent school for a year, and the rules positively prohibit yourvisits. Be patient yet awhile, Giovanni. We both are very young and havea life of happiness to look forward to. Besides, we can see each otherat the Palazzo Costi during vacation, and that is something. "

"It is nothing to a man who wishes to see you constantly, to be alwayswith you. Oh! Zuleika, I cannot bear our separation, I cannot do withoutyou!"

The young man had risen to his feet and uttered these words loudly, recklessly. Zuleika sprang up and caught him by the arm, her face whitewith terror. 

"Control yourself, Giovanni, control yourself!" she whispered, in afrightened tone. "Speak lower, with more caution, or other ears thanmine will hear you!"

But the Viscount did not heed her. He was fearfully agitated and hisentire frame shook with excitement and emotion. 

"Fly with me, Zuleika, fly with me now, this very moment, and be mywife!" he exclaimed, in a voice so strangely altered that Monte-Cristo'sdaughter scarcely recognized it. "I am rich, and my family has wealthand power sufficient to protect us against everything and everybody, even your father, with all his untold gold and influence! The Count ofMonte-Cristo seeks to part us; that is the reason he has sent you here, to this convent, where you are little less than a prisoner!"

He caught her wildly in his arms and held her against his breast as ifdefying fate. Zuleika, more terrified than ever, struggled in hisembrace and finally released herself. She faced Giovanni, and said, warmly:

"You do my father injustice. He does not seek to part us. He esteems yougreatly, Viscount Massetti, loves you for the service you rendered me, his daughter, and will reward that service with the highest recompensein his power to bestow--my hand. But he considers me a child as yet, wishes me to have education and experience before I marry, that I maybe a wife worth having and not a mere useless doll. Respect his wishes, Giovanni, respect him. He is a good, kind-hearted man, and will doright. His wisdom has been shown too often for me to doubt it!"

"His wisdom!" cried Massetti, bitterly. "Yes, he is wise, too wise tobestow your hand upon me, a mere Viscount! What is my family in hiseyes? Nothing. What is my wealth? An utter trifle compared to his. Itell you, Zuleika, he does not wish us to marry. He designs you for somehigh potentate with riches to match the princely marriage-portion youwill have!"

"No, no!" cried the girl. "You are despondent, and in your despondencymisjudge him. He cares nothing for wealth or exalted station, but valuesa good name and an unstained reputation above all else. "

"But will you not be mine, will you not fly with me from this wretchedprison, in which I can see you only by stealth and like a criminal?"

The Italian's eyes sparkled in the twilight and his voice was full ofeloquent persuasion. He fell upon his knees at Zuleika's feet, and, seizing her hand, kissed it passionately again and again. The tremblingyoung girl was deeply touched by his love and entreaties. For a momentshe wavered, but for a moment only; then reason asserted its sway andcooler reflection came to her aid. 

"Rise, Giovanni, " she said, with comparative calmness, "rise and be aman. This proposition is altogether unworthy of you, and, should Iaccept it, we would both be disgraced. I am yours, my heart is in yourkeeping, and I will be your wife at the proper time with my father'sfull consent. But I cannot fly with you, I will not!"

The young man sprang to his feet as if an electric bat had struck him. 

"You have no confidence in me, then!" he cried, impulsively. "You do notlove me!"

"Do not love you!" exclaimed the girl, winding her shapely arms abouthis neck, as her lovely head sank upon his bosom. "I love you with allmy heart, with all my soul, and it is because I love you that I will notfly with you!"

Giovanni kissed her hair rapturously, excitedly, and the beautiful girl, looking ten times more beautiful in her pleading earnestness, added, sweetly, persuasively:

"Leave me now, darling. The bell for the pupils to return to the conventwill soon ring and I must not be missed from among them. Leave me, butremember the maxim, 'Wait and hope!'"

The lover was about to reply when the sound of footsteps suddenly brokeupon their ears. They glanced at each other, startled, uncertain what todo. Giovanni was the first to recover self-possession. He noiselesslyparted the boughs of the elm and peered cautiously in the direction ofthe sound. 

"Three men are rapidly approaching, " he said, hastily, in a whisper. "They are almost here!"

Zuleika looked, in her turn, through the branches. 

"The gardener and his assistants, " she whispered, nearly petrified byconsternation. "They have evidently learned that you scaled the wall andare in quest of you!"

"See, " said Giovanni, breathlessly, pointing to a group behind the men. "A number of nuns are also coming!"

"They are searching for me! Oh! Giovanni, fly, fly instantly!"

"And leave you to suffer, to bear the weight of my imprudence! Never! Iwill stay and protect you!"

"You will not protect me by remaining. You will only compromise us boththe more. Go, I beseech you, go, while there is yet time!"

With tears in her imploring eyes, Zuleika pushed her lover gentlytowards the wall. He gazed at her for an instant and then at theapproaching men and nuns, who were now very near. 

The girl clasped her hands supplicatingly, then mutely pointed to thewall. 

"It is your wish?" asked Massetti, hurriedly. 

Zuleika nodded her head affirmatively, and still more imperativelypointed to the wall. 

"I will obey you, " whispered the young Italian, "and I will 'wait andhope!'"

She had gained the victory. A joyous love-light came into her eyes, forthe moment eclipsing her terror. Giovanni could not resist thetemptation to embrace her, even in the face of the danger thatthreatened him. He wound his arms about her yielding form, drew her tohim with a crushing strain, showering burning kisses upon her upturnedlips. 

"Farewell, " he murmured, reluctantly releasing her, "farewell, my own!"

He turned from her and ran to the wall, scaled it with the agility of acat and vanished. 

When the gardener and his assistants reached the elm, they found Zuleikastanding there alone. Had they seen Massetti scale the wall? Had theyrecognized him? These thoughts shot through the girl's agitated mind. She gave no attention to her own peril. 

The men came to a halt and stood silently by, waiting for the nuns toarrive. Horror was pictured on their aged countenances, and they staredat Monte-Cristo's daughter as if she had committed some heinous, unpardonable crime. 

The group of nuns speedily arrived, headed by Sister Agatha, who held anopen letter in her hand. Zuleika gazed at this letter in silent dismay. It was hers, the one Giovanni had written her! How had it got intoSister Agatha's possession? She mechanically felt in her bosom where shehad secreted it, as she thought, safely. Her hand touched only the emptyenvelope. The note must have fallen upon the floor of the school-roomand been found by some malicious pupil, who, after reading it anddiscovering its compromising contents, had surrendered it to the nun, thus divulging the weighty secret. 

Zuleika stood abashed and terror-stricken. No chance of escape now. Nochance for deception had she wished to essay it. The letter told thewhole story, and the proof of its truth was furnished, for was she notat the appointed rendezvous, and was it not probable that the men andthe nuns had seen Giovanni quit her and scale the garden wall?

The nuns looked as horrified as the old servants, but they were more tobe dreaded; they possessed the power of reprimanding and punishing, andwhat punishment would they think too severe in this extreme case? SisterAgatha spoke. Her tone was milder than Zuleika had expected. 

"Oh! mademoiselle, " she said, reproachfully, "what is this? A meetingwith a lover, and within these holy precincts dedicated to celibacy, chastity and sacred things! What will your father, the Count ofMonte-Cristo, say when your conduct is reported to him? You are young, and allowance must be made for youthful blood and passionate impulses;but still you have done wrong, very wrong! Is this man, who signshimself Giovanni and who just left you, your betrothed?"

"He is, " murmured Zuleika, blushing and holding down her head. 

"With your father's permission, mademoiselle?"

"My father does not object to him, " replied the girl evasively. 

"In that case your fault is not so great as I at first supposed, " saidthe nun. "You are pardonable for receiving the man, who, with yourfather's consent, is in time to become your husband; but, nevertheless, in meeting him within the convent grounds you are censurable for lack ofdiscipline, and also for conniving at a breach of our rule whichexcludes all male visitors, save parents or guardians. "

Zuleika bowed her head in submission. 

"The punishment, " continued Sister Agatha, "shall be as light aspossible, however, if you have never before met this man within theconvent grounds. "

"I have never met him here before, " said Zuleika, "and I only met him inthis instance because--because--"

She hesitated and burst into tears. 

"Because what, my poor child?" asked the nun, kindly. 

"Because I love him so, and because I was afraid, if I did not meet him, in his desperation he would seek me out in face of you all!"

"Have you ever written to him since you have been in this school?"

"Never!"

"Has he ever written to you before?"

"You hold his first letter to me in your hand!"

"How was this letter delivered, by what means did it reach you?"

Her face one mass of crimson, trembling from head to foot, Zuleika toldthe whole story of her adventure at noon that day. How she had strayedfrom her companions without any definite intention; how she had seatedherself within the screening branches of the elm to meditate; how shehad heard the singular noise in the chestnut tree, and, finally, how theletter, fastened to a stone, had come fluttering over the wall andfallen at her feet. 

The nuns glanced at each other, horrified and amazed at the audacity ofthe young Italian. 

"Zuleika, " said Sister Agatha, "I told you your punishment should be aslight as possible. You have been exposed and reprimanded; the blush ofshame has been brought to your cheek! This, I think, is penaltysufficient for a first offense, considering also that it was, in ameasure, forced upon you. But beware of a second infraction of ourrules! Now, return to your companions. "

So it happened that Zuleika suffered but slightly for the imprudence andheadlong devotion of her lover. Fearing gossip, the Sisterhood of theSacred Heart suppressed the matter, and the Count of Monte-Cristo neverheard of it. Zuleika expected ridicule from her companions, but thewarm-blooded, romantic Italian girls, instead of ridiculing her, lookedupon her as a heroine and envied her the possession of a lover daringand devoted enough to scale the wall of a convent garden. 

CHAPTER IV. 

A STORMY INTERVIEW. 

When Captain Joliette entered the dressing-room of Mlle. D' Armilly, after quitting the Count of Monte-Cristo at the Apollo Theatre on thesudden termination of the performance of "Lucrezia Borgia, " he found theprima donna lying upon a sofa and slowly recovering from the effects ofher swoon. Her maid and the ladies of the company, the latter still intheir stage attire, were giving her every attention. It was a strangeand somewhat grotesque scene--a real drama with theatrical surroundings. The blazing lights, enclosed by their wire spheres, threw a ruddy glareupon the faces of those present, making them appear weird and witch-likein their paint and powder. On chairs and tables lay Mlle. D' Armilly'schanges of dress for the performance and her street garments, while upona broad shelf in front of a mirror were the various mysterious articlesused in her make-up--rouge, grease-paint, poudre de riz, etc. , togetherwith brushes and numerous camel's hair pencils. A basin filled withwater stood on a washstand, and on the floor was the pitcher, in companywith a heterogeneous collection of stage and street boots belonging tothe eminent songstress. The director of the theatre was standinganxiously beside the suffering prima donna, mentally calculating thechances of her ability to appear the following night. Léon d' Armillywas walking back and forth in the small apartment, wringing his handsand shedding tears like a woman, while at the open door lounged thetenor and baritone of the troupe, their countenances wearing the usuallistless expression of veteran opera singers who, from long habit, arethoroughly accustomed to the indispositions and caprices of prima donnasand consider them as incidental to the profession. 

As Captain Joliette came in, Léon ran to him and exclaimed amid histears:

"Oh! how could you bring that odious man to your box! See how the verysight of him has affected my poor sister!"

At these words Mlle. D' Armilly roused herself and, springing to herfeet, faced the young soldier in a fit of uncontrollable rage. 

"How dare you, " she cried, her eyes flashing and her voice tremulouswith anger, "come here, to me, after what has occurred to-night!"

"I was not aware, Louise, " answered he, apologetically, "that you hadsuch a terrible aversion to the Count of Monte-Cristo. "

"The Count of Monte-Cristo!" exclaimed the director. "Was he in thehouse this evening? What an honor!"

The irate prima donna flashed upon him a terrible glance. 

"If you consider it an honor to have that monster in your theatre, " shefairly hissed, "I will sing for you no more!"

The humiliated director walked away without making a reply. He deemedit the part of wisdom not to embroil himself with an eminent artiste whowas capable of bringing him in so much money, and who also was capable, he thought, of breaking her engagement if she saw fit to do so. He, therefore, left the dressing-room. The others, seeing that Mlle. D'Armilly was evidently about to have a hot dispute with her admirer andthat she was sufficiently restored to need no further care, also quittedthe apartment. 

When they were alone, the prima donna turned fiercely upon the Captain, exclaiming:

"And you profess to love me, too! Was it love that induced you to bringmy worst enemy here to-night? It was hatred rather! Captain Joliette, you hate me!"

"You know I do not, Louise, " said the young soldier, warmly. "You know Ilove you to desperation!"

"Why then was the so-called Count of Monte-Cristo in your box?"

"I was not aware that you knew him; indeed, I felt convinced that he wasa total stranger to you, and his conduct to-night tended to confirm thatconviction. He looked at you without the slightest sign of recognition;and so far from being your enemy is he that he gave you louder and moreenthusiastic applause than any other man in the entire theatre. "

"It is his art, Captain Joliette! I tell you that man is as cunning as aserpent and as remorseless as a tiger. Only this morning he sought togain access to me, with what iniquitous motive I know not; but Ireturned his letter, with an answer that must have galled his pride tothe quick!"

"I saw that answer, " said the Captain. "Monte-Cristo showed it to mehimself at his residence, the Palazzo Costi. "

"What!" cried Mlle. D' Armilly, with augmented anger. "You saw it, readmy very words, and yet brought him to your box?"

"Listen, Louise, and be reasonable. He told me that your name seemedfamiliar to him and yet he could not recall where or under whatcircumstances he had heard it. He was astonished at the tone of yourreply to his formal and, I must say, very civil note. I was sure theremust be some mistake on your part, that you had confounded him with someother person. I had gone to the Palazzo Costi expressly to invite him tohear you sing, to have such a great man present and assist at yourtriumph! I felt proud of you, Louise, proud of you as an artiste and asa woman, and I wanted my friend of friends to share my exaltedappreciation of you. Such were the reasons that induced me to bring himto my box to-night, and, surely, if I committed an error, I deservepardon for my motives!"

"I will never pardon you, be your motives what they may!" cried Mlle. D'Armilly, vindictively. "His presence ruined the performance anddisgraced me, me, Louise d' Armilly, in the eyes of all Rome!"

The Captain stood speechless, appalled by her fury. White with rage, hereyes flashing and her bosom heaving, she looked like some beautifuldemon. 

"I would have triumphed as usual had he not been here, " she continued, furiously and bitterly, "and to-morrow the Eternal City would have beenat my feet, I would have been an acknowledged queen, nay, even greaterthan any sovereign alive, but now I have failed and am nothing! CaptainJoliette, for all this you are to blame, and yet you think you deservepardon for your motives! Why, man, you are worse than an idiot! No, Iwill never pardon you, never!"

She strode about the dressing-room as she spoke, her small, white handsworking as if ready to tear the young soldier to pieces. Joliettewatched her for an instant and then said:

"You are a singular creature, Louise, a problem that I must admit Icannot solve. What is the Count of Monte-Cristo to you that you swoon atthe mere sight of him? You certainly could not have been in any wayassociated with his past life, have suffered from the signal vengeancehe took upon his enemies years ago!"

Mlle. D' Armilly paused suddenly in her excited walk, and, seizing theCaptain by the arm with so strong a clutch that a thrill of pain shotthrough him, cried, menacingly:

"If you dare to mention Monte-Cristo's fiendish vengeance to me again, Iwill banish you forever from my presence!"

At that moment one of the officials of the theatre appeared at thedressing-room door. 

"A note for mademoiselle, " said he, bowing profoundly. 

The prima donna took the missive from the man and glanced at theaddress upon the envelope. As she did so, she knitted her brows andcried out:

"His handwriting! Another insult! I will not read it!"

The official withdrew in confusion. 

"Whose handwriting?" asked Joliette, his curiosity and jealousysimultaneously excited. Mlle. D' Armilly had frequently referred to hernumerous admirers and the letters she received from them, and theCaptain naturally jumped to the conclusion that this note had been sentby some ardent Roman suitor. He considered the artiste's exclamation andassumption of displeasure as mere artful tricks designed to deceive him. 

"Whose handwriting?" repeated Mlle. D' Armilly; scornfully. "Must Iexplain everything to you?"

The young man had borne all his companion in her anger had heaped uponhim with comparative equanimity, but he could not bear the idea of arival, the very thought was torture. 

"Louise, " he pleaded, "let me see that letter, let me read it. "

"What! Must you needs examine my private correspondence! CaptainJoliette, you are going too far! You have done enough to-night, withoutadding insult to injury!"

"I did not seek to injure you, Louise, God knows! Neither do I wish toinsult you; but that letter I must and will read!"

"You talk as if I were already your wife and slave. Adopt another andless authoritative tone, monsieur. Captain Joliette, you are not yet myhusband!"

"Would that I were and were sure of your love, Louise! The continualuncertainty in which you keep me is insupportable! You refuse to let meread that letter?"

The young man, in his turn, began to pace the dressing-room excitedly, his jealous suspicions growing stronger and stronger. 

Mlle. D' Armilly gazed at him triumphantly. She was proud of the vastinfluence she exercised over this brave and manly warrior. He wouldstand unmoved before the cannon's mouth, but she could make him quailand tremble!

"You refuse to let me read that letter?" he repeated. 

"What if I do not refuse?" said she, in a softer tone. 

"You will make me a very happy man!"

"Then read it, for I will not! Thus I show my contempt for its miserableand cowardly author!"

She crumpled the note in her hand and cast it on the floor. Then sheplaced her foot upon it. 

Joliette stooped and took it from beneath her boot. He straightened outthe envelope, opened it, removed the missive and read as follows:

"The Count of Monte-Cristo presents his respects to Mlle. D' Armilly, and begs leave to express his deep regret that his presence in CaptainJoliette's box was the cause of such a grave catastrophe. He is utterlyat a loss to realize why Mlle. D' Armilly should entertain so profoundan aversion for him, and why the sight of him should so seriously affecther. If Mlle. D' Armilly would condescend to explain, he would regard itas a special favor. He trusts that Captain Joliette will in nowise beblamed for what has occurred, as that gentleman, when he invited theCount to share his box, was as thoroughly convinced as the Count himselfthat Mlle. D' Armilly did not know and would not recognize him. "

As Joliette read the last lines that so completely cleared him, he couldnot suppress an exclamation of joy. 

"Louise, " he cried, "the Count of Monte-Cristo has written to exculpateme!"

"Indeed!" replied the prima donna, contemptuously. 

"Yes; he also apologizes to you and asks you to explain why the sight ofhim so seriously affects you. "

"He asks an explanation, does he?" cried Mlle. D' Armilly, her angerresuming sway. "He shall never have one!"

"But you will pardon me, as you see I am altogether blameless?"

"I will hold your pardon under advisement, Captain. My action towardsyou will be greatly influenced by your future conduct in regard to thewretch who calls himself Monte-Cristo!"

"You surely do not wish me to cast him off, to shun him?"

"Do you prefer him to me?"

"I love you, Louise, love you better than anything or anybody else inthe whole world! But I greatly esteem the Count of Monte-Cristo. Thereare ties between us that you do not understand. "

"I do not care to understand them. I have told you that this man is myenemy. That should be sufficient for you. My lover and my enemy cannotbe friends. Choose between us!"

"Would you have me quarrel with him?"

"Quarrel with him? Yes; and not only that! I would have you fight him, kill him!"

The young man stood aghast. He was totally unprepared for thisexplosion, this savage, vindictive demand. 

"Fight him, kill him, Louise! You cannot, you do not mean what you say!"

"Am I in the habit of using idle words?"

"Louise, Louise, I entreat you, do not impose such horrible conditionsupon me!"

"Are you afraid of Monte-Cristo?"

"I am afraid of no man living, Louise; but I cannot challengeMonte-Cristo to a duel even for you!"

"Then you refuse to protect, to champion me?"

"Oh! Louise, how can you speak thus! I would gladly shed every drop ofblood in my veins for you, gladly lay down my life for you, but do notask me to lift a hand against the Count of Monte-Cristo!"

The beautiful woman looked at the energetic speaker haughtily anddiscontentedly. She was not a little disappointed. She had thought herinfluence over her suitor unbounded, but now it appeared that it hadits limits. She, however, did not despair. Well knowing the wonderfulfascination she possessed for men, she determined to bring all itsbatteries to bear upon Captain Joliette. She was bent on wreaking aterrible vengeance upon the Count of Monte-Cristo for some mysteriousinjury he had inflicted on her in the past, an injury in regard to whichshe refused to be communicative even to her accepted lover, and wasresolved that Joliette should give the highest proof of his devotion toher by becoming the instrument of that vengeance. 

With the shrewdness of an experienced woman of the world, she readilysaw that a special effort would be required on her part to bend thegallant soldier to her will and compel him to execute her inexorablepurpose. She would make that special effort and, in making it, wouldrender herself so captivating, so enticing, so desirable that Joliettecould not fail to be intoxicated with her charms and fascinations. Thenunder the mad sway of his blind passion, excited to the utmost, he wouldbe ready to do anything for her, anything, even to the commission of acrime, even to shedding the blood of his dearest friend!

At this juncture Mlle. D' Armilly, turning from the Captain as if inhigh displeasure, for it was an important part of her plan to assume acertain degree of coldness towards him at first, touched a bell andimmediately her brother Léon and her maid appeared. 

"Franchette, " she said, addressing the latter, "assist me with my streettoilet. I have sufficiently recovered to return to the Hôtel de France. "

Unmindful of the presence of the Captain and Léon, the designing primadonna at once began to remove the costume she had worn during the opera. The maid aided her in this operation with the outward impassibility oftheatrical servants, though she imperceptibly smiled as she realizedthat this display of her mistress' personal charms was made solely forthe purpose of rendering the young soldier still more the slave of thatartful siren. 

As Mlle. D' Armilly stood in her corset and clinging skirts of spotlesswhite that delicately outlined her faultless shape, her fine throat, shoulders and arms displaying their glowing brilliancy, Captain Joliettegazed at her like one entranced. Never in all his life, he thought, hadhe looked upon a woman so thoroughly beautiful, so goddess-like. She wasas perfect as a painting of Venus, and a thousand times more lovely forbeing alive. He held his breath as he saw her bosom palpitate and feltthat he would give all he possessed in the world to call her his own, tobe with her forever. 

Léon seemed somewhat abashed by his sister's proceeding and blushed likea girl, the crimson tide giving his countenance a beauty altogetherfeminine. 

The toilet operation completed, Mlle. D' Armilly surveyed herselftriumphantly in the mirror. She was well aware that she had riveted herchains very tightly upon her lover, but, for all that, she could tellonly by actual experiment if he were sufficiently under her dominion toaccede to her wishes concerning the Count of Monte-Cristo. Hence shedetermined to make that experiment without delay, ere cool reflectionhad come to the dazzled warrior's aid and enabled him to realize that atrap had been laid for him. 

Quitting the mirror, she went to Captain Joliette's side and, placingher hand on his arm, as she threw into his eyes all the magnetism of herglance, said, in a dulcet tone:

"Will you accompany me to the hôtel, Captain?"

The young man joyously assented, and soon an elegant equipage wasbearing him swiftly towards the prima donna's apartments. 

CHAPTER V. 

ANNUNZIATA SOLARA. 

It was a bright, warm afternoon in spring, and the Piazza del Popolo, Rome's great promenade, was crowded with gay pleasure-seekers of bothsexes, while the Corso and the two other principal thoroughfaresdiverging from this extensive public square were also thronged withyoung and old. The trees were covered with fresh green foliage, andmultitudes of blooming flowers adorned the Piazza and the windows of theadjacent palaces and humble dwellings. Sounds of joy and mirth wereheard on every side, while now and then strains of soft music wereaudible. It was truly a most inspiring scene of light and life. Flirtations were frequent between beautiful dark-visaged girls, withhair and eyes like night, in their picturesque attire, and manly-lookingyouthful gallants, while here and there sullen and sombre glances spokeof jealousy as fierce as fire, hinting of marital vengeance and lovetragedies characteristic of the hot-blooded, impetuous Italians. 

In the midst of the throng on the Piazza two youths were strolling, armin arm. They were the Viscount Giovanni Massetti and Espérance, the sonof Monte-Cristo. Fast friends they seemed, and gayly they chatted asthey passed leisurely along. Their spirits were in full harmony withthe animated scene around them, and they were evidently not insensibleto the charms of the many pretty maidens they encountered and upon whomthey cast admiring glances. 

Suddenly a peasant girl of dazzling beauty appeared in the Piazza verynear them. She was apparently about seventeen, glowing with sturdyhealth, her full cheeks the hue of the red rose. Her sleeves, rolledabove the elbows, displayed perfect arms that would have been the envyof a sculptor. Her feet were bare and her short skirts afforded dazzlingglimpses of finely turned ankles and limbs of almost faultless form. Herface had a cheery and agreeable expression, not unmixed with piquantarchness and a sort of dainty, bewitching coquetry. She was aflower-girl, and was vending bouquets from a basket jauntily borne onone arm. She addressed herself glibly to the young men she met, offeringher wares so demurely and modestly that she seldom failed in findingappreciation and liberal customers. There was not even a suspicion ofboldness or sauciness about her, but she had that entire self-possessionengendered by thorough familiarity with her somewhat risky and perilousvocation. 

Giovanni and Espérance caught sight of her simultaneously. Both werestruck by her appearance and demeanor, to which her gaudy but neat andclean peasant costume gave additional éclat. 

"What a handsome girl!" exclaimed Espérance, involuntarily. 

"A divinity!" replied the Viscount, excitedly. 

Then they glanced at each other and laughed, evidently rather ashamedof the admiration they had so enthusiastically expressed. 

"Her first words, however, will scatter the illusion to the winds, " saidEspérance, cynically. "She is, no doubt, as ignorant as she is pretty. "

"Quite likely, " rejoined Giovanni. "The outside beauty of these peasantgirls generally conceals much internal coarseness, not to saydepravity. "

They were about pursuing their way, when the girl advanced, offeringthem her bouquets. Her voice was so sweet, so melodious, so deliciouslymodulated, that the young men paused in spite of themselves. She stoodin a most graceful attitude, her parted coral lips exhibiting teeth aswhite and glittering as pearls. A subtile magnetism seemed to exhalefrom her that was not without its influence upon the two youths. Besides, her words did not betoken that ignorance alluded to byEspérance or that depravity the Viscount had spoken of. 

"Buy some bouquets for your fair sweethearts, signors, " she said. "Theywill gladden their hearts, for the perfume speaks of love!"

"Love!" exclaimed Giovanni, smiling at her earnestness and poeticlanguage. "What do you know of love?"

"Ah! signor, " she answered, blushing deeply and averting her eyes, "whatgirl does not know of love! Even the meanest peasant feels the arrow ofthe little blind god!"

The young men were amused and interested. Though belonging to the lowerclass, this poor flower-girl had certainly received some education andwas endowed with a fair share of the finer feelings. Espérance feltattracted towards her, and Giovanni experienced a fascination notdifficult to account for. Separated from Zuleika, filled with a lover'sdespair, the ardent Viscount was not averse to a little flirtation, moreor less innocent. Here was his opportunity; he would cultivate thisromantic and handsome girl's acquaintance. Where was the harm? He didnot design being unfaithful to Zuleika, and this piquant peasant wouldbe none the worse for brightening some of his sad hours. No doubt shewas accessible and would welcome such a diversion, especially as hewould pour gold liberally into her lap. 

"I will buy some flowers of you, my girl, " he said, encouragingly. 

"Here is a beautiful bouquet, signor, " said the girl, smiling joyouslyat the prospect of making a profitable sale, and handing him amagnificent selection of fragrant buds and bloom. 

Giovanni took the bouquet and, at the same time, gently pressed thegirl's taper fingers. They were soft and velvety to his touch. Adelightful thrill shot through him at the contact. The flower-girlevinced no displeasure. Clearly she was accustomed to such advances. TheViscount slipped a gold coin of considerable value into her hand, againexperiencing the delightful thrill. 

"This is too much, signor, " said the girl, looking at the coin, "and Ihave not the change. You must wait a moment until I get it. "

"Never mind the change, " answered Giovanni. "Keep the whole. "

The girl looked astonished at such liberality, then a joyous smileoverspread her beautiful visage. 

"Oh! thank you, thank you ever so much, signor, " she said, effusively, the color deepening on her tempting cheeks. Giovanni with difficultyrestrained himself from kissing them. 

"What is your name, my girl?" he asked, as she moved to depart. 

"Annunziata Solara, signor, " she replied, surprised that such a questionshould be asked her. 

"Where do you live?"

"In the country, just beyond the Trastavere. "

"Do you live alone?"

"No; with my father, Pasquale Solara. "

"What is his occupation?"

"He is a shepherd, signor. "

The girl bowed to the two young men and, with a glance at Giovanni thatset his blood tingling in his veins, passed on and was speedily lost inthe throng of promenaders. 

Espérance, who had watched this scene with amused curiosity, broke intoa hearty laugh as the Viscount turned towards him with something verylike a sigh. 

"Giovanni, " said he, "the pretty Annunziata Solara has bewitched you!"

"Not quite so much as that, Espérance, " replied the young Italian. "Butshe is a glorious creature, isn't she?"

"Yes, as far as looks go; but all is not gold that glitters, and thisfair Annunziata may turn out a perfect fiend or fury upon a closeracquaintance!"

Giovanni gave his friend a glance of reproach. 

"Do not insult her with such wretched insinuations, " he replied, warmly. 

Espérance smiled and said:

"You are smitten with her, that's plain!"

"I am not, but I admire her as I would anything beautiful. "

"Put it as you please. At any rate, you will hardly be likely to see heragain. She was a vision and has faded. "

"But I do not intend to lose sight of her. "

"You do not mean to say that you design seeking her out?"

"That is exactly what I mean to say. "

Espérance looked at his friend quizzically and, at the same time, uneasily. 

"When do you design seeking her out?"

"This very night. "

"In the Trastavere?"

"No. You did not hear her aright. She said she lived in the country, just beyond the Trastavere. I will seek her there. "

"What! Alone?"

"Alone. "

"Beware, Giovanni! Her bright eyes may lead you into danger! How do youknow that she has not some fierce brigand lover, who will meet you witha stiletto?"

"Nonsense! Your fears are childish!"

"I am not so sure of that. The country beyond the Trastavere isinfested by daring robbers, who would not hesitate to seize you and holdyou for a ransom. Only the other day the notorious Luigi Vampa performedjust such an exploit, exacting a very large sum for the release of hisprisoner, who was a wealthy nobleman like yourself. "

"I will take the chances!"

"You are mad!"

"I am not. I have no fear of brigands. They would not dare to lay even afinger upon a Massetti!"

The young Viscount drew himself up proudly as he spoke. He believed thepower of his family invincible. 

Espérance was at a total loss to understand the firm hold this suddeninfatuation had taken upon his friend. Of course, he fully comprehendedthe influence of female beauty over hot, headstrong youth, and heacknowledged to himself that Annunziata was really very beautiful andalluring; still, she was not more so than hosts of other girls who wouldbe glad to win a smile from the Viscount Massetti at almost any price, and whose pursuit would be altogether unattended with danger. It waswell known that the shrewd brigands frequently sent handsome young womento Rome to entice their prey to them, and might not Annunziata Solara, with all her apparent demureness, be one of those dangerous Delilahs?

After several further attempts to dissuade the Viscount from the rashventure he had decided upon making, all of which were vain, Espéranceresolved that his impetuous friend should not go alone that night inquest of the fascinating Annunziata. He would follow him unseen andendeavor to protect him should the necessity arise. He knew theViscount's nature too thoroughly to propose accompanying him, as such aproposition would undoubtedly be received with scorn, if not as anabsolute insult. He would, however, keep track of him and, if all wentwell, Massetti would be none the wiser. If, on the contrary, his aidshould be needed, he could come forward and give it. In that event, gratitude on the Viscount's part would prevent him from demanding anexplanation of his presence. 

Meanwhile the young men had continued their stroll and had passed fromthe Piazza del Popolo to the Corso. Giovanni was taciturn and moody. Helooked straight ahead, failing to notice the gayly attired beautiesthronging that great thoroughfare, who at ordinary times would haveengrossed his attention. Not so with Espérance; he admired the vivaciousladies on the sidewalk or in their handsome carriages drawn by spiritedhorses. Now and then he recognized an acquaintance among them and bowed, but Giovanni recognized no one. He seemed plunged in a reverie thatnothing could break. Scarcely did he reply to Espérance's occasionalremarks, and when he did so it was with the air of a man whose thoughtsare far away. 

At the broad portico of the magnificent Palazzo Massetti, Espérance, theson of Monte-Cristo bade his friend farewell. As he turned to depart, hesaid:

"Is your determination still unaltered, do you yet intend to seekAnnunziata Solara in the country beyond the Trastavere?"

Giovanni glanced at him keenly, as he replied, somewhat impatiently:

"My determination is unaltered. I shall seek her!"

"To-night?"

"To-night!"

Espérance said nothing further, but departed, full of sad forebodings. He felt a premonition of evil, and was certain that his infatuatedfriend would meet with some dire mishap during the romantic andhazardous expedition of that night. It was now quite late, and the youngman hurriedly bent his steps towards the Palazzo Costi, maturing hisplan as he walked along. He would inform the Count of Monte-Cristo thathe had been invited to accompany some friends on a pleasure excursion, requesting his permission to absent himself from Rome for a few days. This permission obtained, he would assume the garb of an Italianpeasant, make his way to the Ponte St. Angelo and there, in the shadowof the bridge, await the coming of the Viscount Massetti. When thelatter had passed his place of concealment, he would follow him at adistance, keeping him in view and watching him closely. 

Monte-Cristo made no objection to his son's proposed absence, and theyoung man, after a hasty supper, hurried to his sleeping chamber, wherehe soon assumed a peasant's dress he had worn at a recent masquerade. Stepping in front of a toilet mirror, he applied a stain to his face, giving it the color of that of a sunburnt tiller of the fields. When hisdisguise was completed, he surveyed himself triumphantly in the glass. Even his father could not have recognized him, so radically had healtered his appearance. 

Gaining the street by a private door without being observed, he wasspeedily at the bridge. As he stepped into the shadow of one of theabutments, he heard the great clock of the Vatican strike seven. It wastwilight, but everything around him was as plainly visible as in broadday. He glanced in every direction. No sign of Giovanni. Had the ardentyoung Viscount already crossed the Tiber?

He thought not, and waited patiently for a quarter of an hour. Still nosign. Then he began to grow anxious. Massetti had certainly passed overthe bridge and he had missed him. He waited a few minutes longer, devoured by impatience and anxiety. At last he reached the conclusionthat Giovanni had preceded him, had gone on alone, unprotected. He musthave done so; otherwise he would certainly have appeared ere this. Thethought was torture. To what unknown, what deadly perils was he exposinghimself amid the marshes without the city walls? But perhaps he had notyet left the city walls behind him! A ray of hope came to Espérance. IfMassetti were still within the limits of the Trastavere, he might byusing due speed overtake him! He would make the attempt at any rate. Ashe formed this resolution, he emerged from the shadow of the abutment. At that instant a man came upon the bridge and passed him. He passed soclosely that they almost touched, uttering a suppressed oath at findingan intruder in his path. His pace was rapid, so rapid that he was soonfar away. He had not even looked at Espérance, and it seemed to thelatter that he had endeavored to conceal his face. The man was ofGiovanni's size and had Giovanni's bearing, but there the resemblanceended. He was certainly a peasant; his attire betokened it; besides, hiscountenance, of which Espérance had caught a glimpse, was rough andtanned. The son of Monte-Cristo felt a pang of keen disappointment; thenhe glanced at his own garments, thought of his own stained visage, and arevelation came to him like a flash of lightning--the man wasGiovanni--Giovanni in disguise! He hurriedly looked after his retiringfigure; it was now but a mere speck in the distance, scarcelydiscernible in the fading twilight. He started swiftly in pursuit, almost running across the bridge. After a hot and weary chase, he atlength gained so much on the object of his solicitude that he was asnear as he deemed it prudent to approach. He was now sure that the manahead of him was the Viscount Massetti. 

Espérance paused a second to recover his breath; then he went on at aslower pace. The pursued had not discovered the pursuit; he trudgedalong steadily and sturdily, never once looking back. Thus the two mencrossed the Trastavere, and each in turn, emerging from a gate in thewall of the Leonine City, passed out into the marshy country beyond. They had not gone very far, when Espérance saw Giovanni suddenly give astart; at the same time he heard a loud, harsh voice cry out:

"In the name of Luigi Vampa, halt!"

Straining his eyes, Espérance finally succeeded in piercing thesemi-darkness of the surroundings, and perceived a gigantic ruffian, whowore a black mask, standing in the centre of the road and presenting apistol at the head of the man he had every reason to believe wasGiovanni Massetti. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE POWER OF A NAME. 

The young Viscount, for it was, indeed, he whom the gigantic maskedbrigand had halted, was staggered for an instant by this unlooked forinterruption of his journey in pursuit of the beautiful flower-girl. Hegazed at the huge ruffian in front of him first in bewilderment and thenin anger. The robber calmly continued to cover him with his pistol; asGiovanni made a movement with his hand towards a stiletto he wore at thebelt of his peasant's dress, the man's quick eye detected his intentionand he exclaimed, in a rough tone of command:

"Touch that stiletto and I will blow your brains out!"

The Viscount dropped his hand; he was as brave as a lion, but the bandithad the advantage of him and, courageous as he was, he instantlyrecognized the folly of disregarding his warning. His rage andindignation, however, were too great for him to control. He cried to hisstalwart adversary:

"Why do you stop a poor peasant from whom you can obtain nothing?"

"You are not a poor peasant, signor!"

"I am not, eh? Well, search me and see!"

"You are neither a poor peasant, signor, nor any peasant at all! I haveseen you too often in Rome to be deceived by the flimsy disguise youwear so unnaturally! I know you! You are the Viscount GiovanniMassetti!"

"Well, what if I am?" retorted the young man, sharply. "The fact willnot benefit you or any member of your accursed and cowardly band!"

"Have a care how you talk, signor!" exclaimed the bandit, threateningly. "Insolence to your captors may cost you more than you would be willingto pay!"

"Indeed?"

"Yes; I mean exactly what I say. It may cost you your life!"

Giovanni glared at the brigand with unflinching eyes. He returned threatfor threat. 

"Take my life, if you will, " he said. "It would be the worst piece ofwork you have ever done!"

"May I ask why, signor?"

"It would raise my family against you and the result could not fail tobe your extermination!"

The man laughed loudly, and caustically replied:

"You are joking! What can your family do against Luigi Vampa and hiscomrades, who have long been countenanced by the highest authority!"

This was the climax of insult, and Giovanni, driven to the highest pitchof fury, unable longer to control himself, tore his stiletto from itssheath and, raising it aloft, made a frantic dash at the giganticbrigand. Instantly the latter fired. Giovanni dropped his weapon; hisright arm fell useless at his side. 

Espérance meanwhile had not been idle. His excitement was intense, andwith it was mingled terrible fear for the safety of his friend. Nevertheless, he eventually succeeded in sufficiently calming andcollecting himself to form a plan of action and put it in execution. Hehad provided himself with a pistol, which he had freshly charged priorto his departure from the Palazzo Costi. He drew this weapon from itsplace of concealment at the first intimation of danger, noiselesslycocking it. The road was skirted with tall thick bushes from whichprojected a fringe of heavy shadows. Along this dark fringe Espérancestole with cautious tread towards the huge bandit, as soon as heperceived him standing in the centre of the highway and noted histhreatening attitude. As he stealthily advanced, the moon suddenly rose, flooding the scene with its silvery light. Its rays, however, did notdisturb the line of skirting shadows, and Espérance passed on unseen. When the brigand fired he was very near him. Seeing Giovanni's arm falland realizing that he was wounded, the son of Monte-Cristo promptlyraised his weapon and, covering the gigantic ruffian, discharged itdirectly at his heart. Blood gushed from the man's breast. He sank tothe ground, where he lay quivering convulsively; in another instant heexpired without even uttering a groan. 

Giovanni, whose arm was badly shattered and who was suffering frightfulpain, stood speechless with amazement at this sudden, unexpectedintervention in his favor. Espérance instantly sprang to his side. Theyoung Italian stared at him as if he had been an apparition from theother world. He failed to recognize him in his peasant's dress, with hisstained visage. 

"Who are you?" he gasped, as soon as he was able to find words. 

"Do you not know me?" asked Espérance, astonished. In his excitement hehad forgotten his disguise. 

"You are a stranger to me, " replied the Viscount, "but my gratitude isnone the less on that account. You have rescued me from captivity, perhaps saved my life!"

"I am no stranger, Giovanni. I am your friend, Espérance. "

"What! Espérance in that dress, with that sunburnt countenance! Ithought your voice had a strangely familiar sound, but your disguiseproved too complete for me to penetrate it!"

These words recalled to the mind of the son of Monte-Cristo the changeshe had made in his appearance. No wonder that Viscount had failed torecognize him!

"Why did you disguise yourself, and how came you here at this criticaljuncture?" demanded Giovanni, after a pause. 

"I disguised myself that I might follow you without fear of detection. You would not listen to reason, and I determined to protect you duringyour rash adventure so far as might lie in my power. "

"From the bottom of my heart I thank you, Espérance. You are a brave aswell as a devoted friend, fully worthy of your illustrious father! Buthow did you know me? I too, am disguised. "

"The fact of my own disguise enabled me to penetrate yours. Irecognized you almost immediately after you passed me on the Ponte St. Angelo. "

"What! Were you the peasant I nearly ran down as I crossed the bridge?"

"I was. But let us lose no more time; we have lost enough already. Besides, more of Luigi Vampa's band are probably prowling in thevicinity, and I imagine we both have had sufficient of the banditti forone night! Prudence dictates that we should return at once to Rome. Withyour shattered arm, you surely do not count upon continuing your searchfor the fair Annunziata at present?"

"No; that is impossible, I regret to say. I will return with you toRome. "

As the Viscount spoke a sudden tremor seized upon him, and he leaned onhis friend's shoulder for support. 

"You are faint from loss of blood!" exclaimed Espérance, much alarmed. "How thoughtless in me not to bind up your wound!"

Taking his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the blood from hisfriend's arm, carefully, tenderly bandaging the hurt; then he made asling of Giovanni's handkerchief, placing the wounded member in it. TheViscount felt easier thus, though still somewhat faint. 

"You are quite a physician, Espérance, " said he. 

"Not at all, " replied the son of Monte-Cristo; "but my father taught mehow to manage hurts; he said the knowledge would at some time be usefulto me, and his words have proved true. "

"Your father is a wonderful man; he seems to think of everything, toprovide for all contingencies. Thanks to the skill he imparted to you, Iam now in a condition to start on the homeward journey. "

The young men turned their faces towards Rome, but scarcely had theytaken a dozen steps when the road in front of them literally swarmedwith rough-looking armed men, who effectually barred their progress. Inan instant they were surrounded. Resistance was impossible; the twofriends glanced at each other and about them in dismay. The new comerswere evidently bandits, members of Luigi Vampa's desperate band. 

One of the miscreants, who appeared to be the leader and was verypicturesquely attired, confronted Giovanni and Espérance. He had apistol in his belt, but did not draw it. 

"You are my prisoners!" said he, in a tone of authority. 

"Who are you, and by what right do you detain us?" demanded Espérance, haughtily. 

"Who I am, " replied the brigand, in a stern voice, "does not concernyou. The right by which I detain you is the right of the strongest!"

"We cannot oppose your will, however unreasonable and unjust, " returnedEspérance; "my friend is wounded and my pistol is discharged. We canonly throw ourselves upon your mercy; but we are gentlemen in spite ofour dress, and demand to be treated as such!"

"How came your friend to be wounded and your pistol discharged?" askedthe bandit, suspiciously. 

"My friend was attacked and I went to his assistance, " answeredEspérance. 

"You were in a fight, then, " resumed the leader. Turning suddenly to hismen, he asked: "Where is Ludovico?"

"He went up the road half an hour since, and has not yet returned, "answered a short, thick-set young fellow, who seemed to be the leader'slieutenant. 

"Just like him, " said the leader. "Always rash, always seekingadventures alone. I heard a pistol-shot some time back, " he continued, looking menacingly at Espérance. "Perhaps Ludovico has beenassassinated! If so, it shall go hard with his murderers! Let him besearched for. "

The short, thick-set lieutenant, accompanied by several of the band, immediately departed to obey the order. 

Espérance glanced anxiously at Giovanni. A new danger threatened them. The gigantic brigand who had been slain was, without doubt, thisLudovico. His body would be found and summary vengeance taken upon them. Giovanni also realized the additional peril; but neither of the youngmen gave the slightest evidence of fear; inwardly they resolved to facedeath stoically, to meet it without the quiver of a muscle. 

In a brief space the lieutenant and his companions returned; two of themen bore the corpse of the huge robber; they placed it on the grass bythe roadside where the full moonlight streamed upon it, showing thewound in the breast and the garments saturated with blood. A frowncontracted the leader's visage; he glanced at Espérance and the Viscountwith a look of hate and rage; then, turning to the lieutenant, he said:

"Well?"

"We found Ludovico lying in the road a little distance from here, "replied the short, thick-set man, with a trace of emotion in his roughvoice. "He was shot in the heart and had been dead for some time. "

The brigands had gathered about the prostrate form of their comrade;they seemed to be much affected by his fate; Ludovico was evidently afavorite. 

As soon as the leader had received his subordinate's report, he turnedto the prisoners, asking, sternly:

"Which of you murdered this man?"

"No murder was committed, " returned Espérance, indignantly. "The hugeruffian shot my friend, shattering his arm, as you see; he was killed asa measure of defence. "

"Your pistol is discharged, " continued the leader, harshly; "that youhave admitted; you killed Ludovico!"

"I defended my friend, whom he had basely attacked, " said Espérance, sullenly. 

"You killed this man? Yes or no!"

"I killed him!"

"Enough!" cried the leader, grinding his teeth. "You shall pay thepenalty of your crime! Both of you shall die!"

He motioned to his lieutenant and in an instant Espérance and Giovanniwere securely bound. The young men read desperate resolution and fiercevengeance upon all the rough countenances around them. There was not thefaintest glimmer of hope; death would be dealt out to them at once andin the most summary fashion. Indeed, nooses were already dangling from acouple of trees by the roadside, waiting to do their fell work. Thesight of these dread preparations roused Giovanni. With flashing eyes, he faced the leader of the band. 

"Beware!" he cried. "If you murder us, you will have all Rome to dealwith! We have told you we are gentlemen and not peasants. I am theViscount Giovanni Massetti and my companion is the son of the famousCount of Monte-Cristo!"

As the young Italian uttered these words, a new comer suddenly appearedupon the scene for whom all the rest made way. He was an intellectuallooking man, unostentatiously attired in a peasant's garb. 

"Who spoke the name of the Count of Monte-Cristo?" demanded he. 

The leader silently pointed to Massetti, who instantly replied:

"I spoke the name of the Count of Monte-Cristo, and he will surely takebitter vengeance upon you all for the murder of his son!"

"His son?"

"Yes, his son, who stands here at my side, ignobly bound and menacedwith a shameful death!"

The stranger turned to Espérance and examined him closely. 

"Are you the son of Monte-Cristo?" he asked, visibly agitated. 

"I am, " answered Espérance, coldly. 

"Give me some token. "

"'Wait and hope!'"

"His maxim!"

"Ah! you recognize it. Do you also recognize this?"

As he spoke the young man held up his left hand, and a magnificentdiamond ring he wore flashed in the moonlight. The new comer took hishand and glanced at the jewel, one that the Count of Monte-Cristo hadworn for years and which he had but a few days before presented to hisson. 

"I am convinced, " said the stranger. Then, turning to the leader, hesaid, in a tone of command: "Release these men!"

"But they have slain Ludovico!"

"Release them!" thundered the stranger. "Ludovico should have knownbetter then to have interfered with _my_ friends!"

He was instantly obeyed, and the two young men, greatly astonished, stood relieved of their bonds. 

"You are at liberty, " continued the stranger, "and can resume yourroute. Say to the Count of Monte-Cristo that Luigi Vampa remembers hiscompact and is faithful to it!"

As he spoke the notorious bandit chief gathered his men together, andthe whole band vanished among the trees like so many spirits of thenight. 

CHAPTER VII. 

IN THE PEASANT'S HUT. 

For a moment the two young men stood silent and astounded. So sudden hadbeen the change from imminent peril to safety that they could hardlycomprehend it. Luigi Vampa had come and gone like a flash, and bothbandits and danger had been dispelled by the wonderful magic ofMonte-Cristo's name. The brigand chief had styled Giovanni and Espérancehis friends, and as such they knew the entire country in the vicinity ofRome was free to them; they could travel it by day or by night withoutfear of molestation. Espérance cared little for this, but Giovanni waselated by it, for it would enable him to seek out Annunziata Solarawithout risk of interruption or impediment. But what was the Count ofMonte-Cristo's mysterious power? That was a question difficult, indeed, to answer. At any rate, even the fierce Luigi Vampa bowed to it, and itwas as undisputed as it was strange. 

The Viscount Massetti was the first to realize the necessity of a rapidpush for Rome. He was faint from loss of blood and excitement; besides, his shattered arm throbbed violently and gave him twinges ofexcruciating pain. He felt himself sinking and urged his friend tohasten. Espérance acquiesced, and, supporting the young Italian as besthe could, they resumed the homeward journey. Scarcely a mile had beentraversed, however, when Giovanni threw himself upon the sward at thefoot of a great tree, declaring that it was altogether impossible forhim to advance another step. The throbbing in his arm had becomeunbearable, taking his breath away and filling him with a sickeningsensation. 

They were yet far from Rome, and not a sign of a habitation could bediscerned in any direction. Waiting for daylight to come was not to bethought of; it would be some hours before dawn, and even when the sunhad arisen it was by no means certain that assistance would beprocurable. Meanwhile Giovanni would suffer torments, to say nothing ofthe danger of being exposed in his condition to the influence of themalaria from the surrounding marshes. 

Espérance, though unwilling to leave his friend's side for an instant, decided at last that it was imperative for him to go in search ofsuccor. Meanwhile a raging fever had set in and Giovanni was rapidlygrowing worse. As the son of Monte-Cristo was about to start on his tourof investigation, he heard a man's voice singing at some distance away, but gradually coming nearer. The sound was cheery and reassuring, forcertainly the man who could sing so sweetly and joyously must have agood, kind heart. As the man approached Espérance recognized hissong--it was that beautiful and expressive serenade, "Cara Nina, " amelody dear to all youthful Italian lovers whether humble or of highdegree. 

The man at length came in sight; he was walking leisurely, but with along, swinging gait. His voice was a clear, full tenor robusto, and thenotes of his delicious love song trilled from his throat with wonderfuleffect in the still, balmy air of the tranquil, glorious night. He wasnot over twenty, was a stalwart peasant, and the moonlight showed thathe possessed a manly, open countenance. So engrossed was he by hisserenade that he failed to notice Giovanni lying at the foot of the hugetree and Espérance standing beside him. He was passing on when thelatter hailed him. He paused, somewhat alarmed, and his handinstinctively grasped a weapon concealed in his bosom. Espérancehastened to reassure him. 

"Have no fear, " he said. "We are merely travelers, and one of us isgrievously wounded. In Heaven's name, render what assistance you can!"

The young peasant turned and came cautiously towards them. 

"This is a dangerous neighborhood, " said he; "it is infested by banditsof the most reckless and daring description. "

"We have abundant reason to know it, " answered Espérance, "for we havejust had a very narrow escape from a horrible death at the hands of someof Luigi Vampa's men. "

"Luigi Vampa's men!" echoed the peasant, in astonishment. 

"Yes. "

"And they released you of their own accord? I never heard of such athing! It is not their custom to free their prey, at least without aheavy ransom. Did they rob you, or did you pay them for your liberty?"

"Neither, " replied Espérance. 

The peasant's amazement was redoubled. He glanced inquiringly at theprostrate Viscount. 

"How came your comrade to be wounded?" he asked. 

"His arm was shattered by the pistol of a gigantic bandit. "

"Ludovico?" demanded the peasant, glancing around him, as if he expectedto see the huge assailant. 

"I believe that was his name, " returned Espérance. "But he will do nomore injury!"

"You do not mean to say that you killed him?"

"I do. "

"And yet you were allowed to go free! I cannot understand it!"

"Perhaps not, but you can understand that my friend is badly hurt andneeds immediate aid and shelter. Is there not some hospitable cabin inthe vicinity to which he can be conveyed, where he can be attended tountil assistance arrives from Rome?"

The peasant hesitated for an instant; then he said:

"My father lives at a short distance from here; he could shelter you ifhe would, but he is in such terror of the bandits that, under thecircumstances, he would probably close his door against you. "

"He need have no fear of the brigands in this case, for Luigi Vampa hasjust given us a signal proof of his protection. Besides, he assured usthat he was our friend. "

"This is singular, indeed, " said the peasant, again hesitating. "LuigiVampa is a friend to but very few, and they are those with whom he is inleague. You certainly are not in league with him, or you would not havekilled Ludovico!"

"This is no time for parley, " replied Espérance. "My friend issuffering, and humanity alone should cause your father to receive him. Iwill engage to appease Luigi Vampa's anger, should it be aroused; at theworst, I pledge myself to surrender with my friend at the first summonsto do so, and to assure the brigand chief that your father is altogetherblameless. Come, can I not prevail upon you to be generous and humane?"

"Well, " said the peasant, partially satisfied, "I will trust you, thoughI am taking a great risk. Should Vampa be offended, he will burn our hutover our heads and murder us all without pity. However, both yourwounded friend and yourself shall have such poor shelter as our humbleroof affords. "

Giovanni was aided to arise, and, taking him between them, Espérance andthe peasant began their walk. Fortunately they did not have far to go, otherwise the young Viscount's failing strength would have been unequalto the task. They quitted the highway, plunging into a narrow footpathclosely wooded on either side; so thickly, in fact, did the treebranches interlace overhead that the moonbeams were effectually excludedand almost impenetrable darkness reigned. For an instant Espérance wasapprehensive of treachery, but this fear was dispelled when he thoughtof the manly bearing of the youthful peasant and the dread of thebrigands he had expressed. The three could scarcely walk abreast in thenarrow pathway, and every now and then Giovanni stumbled against someprotruding root or other obstacle invisible in the obscurity; but thepeasant knew the road perfectly, and with no uncertain step hurried hiscompanions on as rapidly as possible. 

Soon the path widened somewhat, the light commenced to sift through thedense foliage, and the gurgling of a noisy brook was heard at no greatdistance. Suddenly they made an abrupt turn, coming in sight of a small, neat-looking cabin, covered with clustering vines and embowered inverdure. The brook dashed along within a few yards of it, the fresh odorof the water mingling gratefully with the perfume of honeysuckles andthe aromatic scent of the surrounding forest. It was, indeed, abeautiful and highly romantic spot, a cosy, sequestered nook, such asthat in which King Henry hid away his love, the Fair Rosamond, from theprying glances of the inquisitive world. Espérance gazed at it withrapture, and even Giovanni, wounded and exhausted as he was, could notrefrain from uttering an exclamation of astonishment and admiration. Thecabin was closed and not a sign of life was visible. 

"We have arrived, " said the peasant, in a low voice. Quitting hiscompanions, he went to a window, against which he gave three distinctraps. 

The signal was almost immediately answered by three similar raps fromwithin; then the window was thrown open and a woman's head appeared. Themoonlight fell full upon her face, and both Espérance and Giovannisuddenly started as they recognized Annunziata Solara, the bewitchingflower-girl of the Piazza del Popolo. 

"It is she--it is Annunziata!" whispered the young Viscount in hiscomrade's ear. 

"Hush!" returned the latter, in a guarded undertone. "Do not betrayyourself! She will never recognize us, disguised as we are! Besides, ourguide's suspicions must not be aroused! He might yet refuse us shelter!"

"You are right, as you always are, " answered Massetti. "We must maintainour incognito, at least until we are sure of our ground. "

Meanwhile the peasant was speaking hastily with Annunziata. 

"Sister, " he said, "I am not alone; two travelers, peasants likeourselves, are with me. They were attacked by Luigi Vampa's men, and oneof them is sorely wounded. "

"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed the girl, evidently filled with terror. 

"They claim our hospitality for the night and our assistance until aidcan be procured from Rome. In my father's name I have accorded themshelter. Open the door and admit us. "

The girl disappeared from the window and in another instant had flungthe door open. As she stood there in the silverly light, the state ofher garments and hair indicating that she had hurriedly risen from hercouch, her bright, picturesque beauty was vastly heightened. The youngmen thought they had never beheld a more entrancing vision of femaleloveliness. 

"Where is father?" asked the peasant, anxiously. 

"He has not yet returned, " replied the girl. 

The guide uttered a sigh of relief. 

"I am glad, " said he, "for Pasquale Solara does not like strangers. Werehe here he might refuse to exercise hospitality towards this wounded manand his companion, even though they are, as they assert, friends ofLuigi Vampa. "

"Friends of Luigi Vampa!" echoed the girl, becoming greatly alarmed. "The Blessed Virgin protect us!"

"They are not brigands, at any rate, " said the peasant, "and I believethem honest men. If, however, they are deceiving me, I shall know how toact!"

There was an ominous flash in his eye as he spoke, and his hand againsought the weapon concealed within his bosom. Espérance, who had beenintently listening to this conversation and had marked every motion ofthe young peasant, felt his suspicions revive; but there was no time forhesitation; shelter and aid for his friend were of the first necessity;they must be obtained at once and at any cost. He had refrained fromoffering the peasant money, not wishing to betray that he and hiscompanion were other personages than they seemed, and now thatAnnunziata had appeared upon the scene he congratulated himself on thewisdom of his course. He, nevertheless, feared Giovanni's impulsivenessin the presence of the girl he so much admired, and determined to watchhim as closely as possible, in order to promptly check all damagingdisclosures. If Giovanni remained in this attractive nook long enough toopen and carry on a flirtation with the beautiful flower-girl, he mustdo so solely as a peasant and under the cover of his clever disguise. Itwas hardly likely that Annunziata would recognize in Massetti andhimself the two youthful gallants she had encountered but for a momentamid the gay throng and crush of the brilliant Piazza del Popolo. 

While these thoughts went flashing through his mind, the young Viscount, leaning heavily upon his arm, had not taken his eyes from the handsome, tempting girl before him. Suffering as he was, he longed to be at herside, to clasp her lovely shape, to feel her warm, voluptuous breathstream over his face and imprint kiss after kiss on her ripe red lips. He had not forgotten Zuleika. Oh! no! But Annunziata Solara was analtogether different being, a girl to delight him, intoxicate him, for amoment as the other for life. For Monte-Cristo's daughter his feelingwas love, for the fascinating flower-girl of the Piazza del Popolo itwas a passion to be sated. 

After a few more words to his sister, the peasant returned to the youngmen, aiding Espérance to transport Giovanni into the cabin. The interiorof this humble abode was as neat and picturesque as the exterior. Theroom they entered was small and cheaply furnished, but feminine tastewas everywhere displayed. A single candle was the only light, but thescanty illumination sufficed to show the refining touches of a woman'shand. In one corner stood a bed, the covers of which were turned down, and upon which was impressed the shape of its late occupant. At the headof the bed a brass crucifix was suspended from the wall, while over theback of a chair hung articles of a woman's apparel. Giovanni could notdoubt that he was in Annunziata's chamber, and that the imprint on thebed was hers. He felt a thrill of joy at the idea that he was to occupythe bewitching flower-girl's couch, to occupy, perhaps, the very placewhere she had lain but a short time before. 

Annunziata, who had thrown a cloak over her shoulders and night clothes, but whose feet were still bare, had accompanied her brother and hiscompanions to the apartment. She eyed the strangers timidly, butcuriously, though it was quite plain she failed to penetrate theirdisguise. With deft hands she rearranged the bed and removed hergarments from the chair. Then she retired to another room, and thewounded Viscount was aided to undress and assisted into the couch by thepeasant and Espérance, where he eventually fell asleep in a delirium ofbliss, after his hurt had been properly cared for. 

Espérance was duly bestowed for the night, and soon unbroken silencebrooded over the solitary cabin in the forest. 

Thus was enacted the initial scene of a drama that was destined to befruitful in disastrous results, results that clouded more than one happylife. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

A SYLVAN IDYL. 

In the morning the Viscount Massetti's arm was found to be so muchswollen and his wound so painful that it was deemed advisable to sendfor a physician, who resided in a neighboring hamlet not more than amile distant from the cabin of the Solaras. The man of medicine was soonat Giovanni's bedside. After examining and dressing his hurt, hedeclared that the patient ought not to be moved for at least a week, apiece of intelligence at which the young man inwardly rejoiced, notwithstanding all the torture he suffered, for his sojourn involvednursing at the hands of the beautiful Annunziata, who had already shownhim that she possessed tenderness and a kind heart, as well as goodlooks. 

Espérance held a conference with his friend after the physician'sdeparture to decide upon what should be done. He proposed to go at onceto Rome and acquaint the Viscount's family with what had happened andGiovanni's condition, but the young man firmly opposed this plan, declaring that he would be well in a few days at most and protestingthat informing his relatives of his situation would involve explanationshe had no desire to give. Giovanni also begged Espérance to remain withhim and give no sign as to their place of retreat; so earnestly did hesolicit these favors that the son of Monte-Cristo, much against his willand with many forebodings, finally consented to grant them. 

Pasquale Solara returned home late on the day following the arrival ofthe strangers at his hut. He was an old, but sturdy shepherd, whoserough, sunburned visage spoke of exposure to the weather and hard toil. He frequently was absent for days and nights in succession, absencesthat he never explained and about which his son and daughter did notdare to question him, for Pasquale was a harsh man, who grew angry atthe slightest pretext and was inclined to be severe with all who soughtto pry into his affairs. He expressed great fear of the bandits whoinfested the vicinity of Rome and especially of Luigi Vampa's band, butthose who knew him best shook their heads doubtingly, and, though theydid not say so, it was plainly to be seen that they deemed this fearmerely assumed for purposes of his own. At any rate, it was asignificant fact that Pasquale was never disturbed in his wanderings, while the brigands always left his dwelling and its inmates unmolested. 

The old shepherd frowned darkly when informed by his children that theyhad given shelter to a couple of travelers, one of whom had been woundedin a fight with a brigand, but he said nothing and appeared disposed toaccept the situation without even a grumble. He did not, however, enterthe chamber in which Giovanni lay and avoided coming in contact withEspérance, who caught but a passing glimpse of him ere he departedagain on another expedition, which he did after a stay of only half anhour at his cabin. 

The young peasant and Espérance soon became quite friendly, indulging inmany a ramble in the forest and beside the gurgling brook. The peasant'sname was Lorenzo, and he appeared to lead a free life, totallyunencumbered with avocation of any kind, save occasionally looking aftera few sheep that never strayed far from the banks of the little stream. 

Annunziata for the time abandoned her visits to Rome, installing herselfas Giovanni's nurse. She was almost constantly beside him, and herpresence and care were more potent medicines than any the physicianadministered. Her smile seemed to exercise a bewitching effect upon theyoung Viscount, while her voice sounded in his ravished ear like thesweetest music. The handsome girl was the very picture of perfecthealth, and her well-developed form had all the charm of early maturity, added to youthful freshness and grace. She wore short skirts, and hershapely limbs were never encumbered with stockings, while her feet wereinvariably bare. A low, loose body with short sleeves displayed herrobust neck and shoulders, and plump, dimpled arms that would have beenthe envy of a duchess. Her hands as well as her feet were not small andthe sun had given them a liberal coat of brown, but they were neatlyturned and attractive, while her short, taper fingers were tipped withpink, carefully trimmed nails. Altogether she looked like the spirit ofthe place, a delicious wood nymph as enchanting as any a poet's fancyever created and yet a substantial, mortal reality well calculated tofire a man's blood and set his brain in a whirl. If she had appearedbeautiful in Rome, amid the aristocratic fashion queens of the Piazzadel Popolo, she seemed a thousand-fold more delightful and fascinatingin her humble forest home, where she shook off all restraint and showedherself as she really was, a bright, innocent child of nature, as pureas the breath of heaven and as free from guile as the honey-fedbutterfly of the summer sunshine. 

The more Giovanni saw of her the more he came under the dominion of herirresistible charms, the empire of her physical attractiveness. Gradually he mended, and as his wound healed his strength returned. Atlength, towards the close of the week, he was able to quit his bed andsit in a large chair by the window of his room. It had been agreed uponbetween him and Espérance that, during their sojourn at the Solaracabin, they should be known respectively as Antonio Valpi and GuiseppeSagasta, and already Annunziata had bestowed upon her patient thefriendly and familiar diminutive of Tonio, a name to which he answeredwith wildly beating heart and eyes that spoke volumes. 

By means of shrewdly managed questions the young Viscount hadascertained that the flower-girl had no lover, that her breast had neverowned the tender passion, and this intelligence added fuel to the flamethat was consuming him. It is not to be supposed that Annunziata wasignorant of the strong impression she had made upon her youthful andhandsome patient. She was perfectly aware of it and secretly rejoiced atthe manifest exhibition of the power of her charms. Perhaps she did notas yet love Giovanni, perhaps it was merely the general physicalattraction of a woman towards a man, or it might have been that innatespice of coquetry common to every female, but the fact remained that shetacitly encouraged the young Viscount in his ardent attentions to her. She, moreover, lured and inflamed him in such a careless, innocent waythat she acquired additional piquancy thereby. Had Annunziata been adesigning woman of the world intent upon trapping a wealthy lover, instead of a pure and artless country maid totally unconscious of theharm she was working, she could not have played her game with moreeffect. Giovanni had become altogether her slave. He hung upon hersmiles, drank her words and could hardly restrain himself in herpresence. No shipwrecked mariner ever more greedily devoured with hisdazzled eyes the fateful loreley of a rocky, deserted coast than he didher. Had she been his social equal, had her intelligence and educationmatched her personal beauty, he would have forgotten Zuleika, thrownhimself impetuously at her feet and solicited her hand. As it was, whileMonte-Cristo's daughter possessed his entire heart, Annunziata Solaraenslaved his senses. 

She received his approaches as a matter-of-course, without diffidence, without a blush. His gallant speeches pleased her, she did not know why. So thoroughly unsuspicious was she, that she failed to notice hislanguage was not that of the untutored peasant he claimed to be, thathis bearing as well as his words indicated a degree of culture andrefinement far above his assumed station. She was dazzled, charmed byhim as the bird is by the glittering serpent with its wicked, fascinating eyes. She thought of nothing but the present and its noveljoys. She had never heeded the future--she did not heed it now. 

One morning as she sat at his side by the open window, through whichstole the balmy air of the forest laden with the intoxicating perfume ofa thousand wild, intensely sweet flowers, Giovanni suddenly took herbrown hand, covering it with passionate kisses. The girl did not resist, did not withdraw her hand from his; she did not even tremble, though aslight glow came into her cheeks, making her look like a very Circe. 

"Annunziata, " said Giovanni, in a low voice scarcely above a whisper, "do you care for me?"

"Care for you, Tonio?" replied the girl, gazing sweetly into his glowingand agitated countenance. "Oh! yes! I care a great deal for you!"

He threw his arm about her neck, and, as his hand lay upon her shapelyshoulder, a magnetic thrill shot through him like a sudden shock from apowerful electric battery. Annunziata did not seek to withdraw herselffrom his warm embrace, and he drew her to him with tightening claspuntil her full, palpitating bosom rested against his breast. Hertempting red lips, slightly parted, were upturned; he placed his uponthem in a long, lingering, delirious kiss. Then the color deepened inher cheeks, and she gently disengaged herself. She did not, however, avert her eyes, but gazed into his with a look of mute inquiry. All thiswas new to her, and the more delicious because of its entire novelty. 

"Neither my father, nor my brother, nor my dead mother ever kissed melike that!" she said, artlessly. 

Giovanni was enraptured; the girl's innocence was absolutely marvelous;he had never dreamed that such innocence existed upon earth. Was shereally what she appeared?

"Annunziata, " he said, abruptly, his heart beating furiously and hisbreath coming thick and fast, "you have never experienced love, or youwould know the meaning of that kiss!"

"Love?" answered the girl, opening her large, lustrous eyes widely. "Oh!yes, I have felt love. I love my father and Lorenzo, I love--everybody!"

"But not as you would love a young man, who would throw himself at yourpretty feet and pour out the treasures of his heart to you!"

"No young man has ever done that, " said Annunziata, smiling and nestlingcloser to him. 

"But some one will before long, perhaps before many minutes! How wouldyou like me to be that one!" cried the Viscount, in his headlongfashion. 

"I cannot tell, " answered the girl, "I do not know!"

"Then let me try the experiment!" said Giovanni, rising from his chairand sinking on his knees in front of her. "Annunziata, I love you!"

The girl stroked his hair and then passed her taper fingers through hisflowing locks. She was silent and seemed to be thinking. Her bosomheaved just a little more than usual, and the glow on her cheeks becamea trifle more intense. Giovanni, yet kneeling, seized her hand, holdingit in a crushing clasp. 

"Do you hear me?" he cried, impatiently. "Do you understand me? I loveyou!"

"You love me, Tonio?" replied the girl, slowly. "Well, it is onlynatural! Every young man must love some young girl some time or other, and I think--I think--I love you a little!"

"Think!" said Giovanni, amazed. "Do you not know it?"

"Perhaps!" answered Annunziata, still fondling his hair. 

Giovanni threw his arms about her waist, an ample, healthful waist, freefrom the restraints of corsets and the cramping devices of fashion. Ashe did so the sound of footsteps was heard without, and he had scarcelytime to leap to his feet when Espérance entered the room. 

Massetti was confused and his friend noticed the fact. He also remarkedthat Annunziata was slightly flushed and seemed to have experienced someagreeable agitation. Espérance instantly leaped to a conclusion. Giovanni's flirtation with the fair flower-girl had gone a trifle toofar, had assumed a serious aspect. He would interfere, he wouldremonstrate with him. It might not yet be too late after all. Annunziata was a pure and innocent creature, unused to the ways of theworld and incapable of suspecting the wickedness of men. She was on thepoint of falling into a deadly snare, on the point of being wrecked uponthe most dangerous shoal life presented. Her very purity and innocencewould make her an easy victim. Giovanni was not wicked; he was merelyyoung, the prey of the irresistible passion of youth. Annunziata'ssurpassing loveliness had fired his blood, had driven him to the vergeof a reckless action, a crime against this beautiful girl that moneycould not repair. This crime should not be committed, if he could helpit, and he would risk the Viscount's friendship to save him fromhimself. Giovanni could not marry the humble peasant girl; he should notmar her future. 

When Espérance came into the chamber, his presence recalled Annunziatato herself and also dampened Massetti's ardor. The girl arose and, smiling at Espérance, tripped blushingly away. Giovanni was flushed andsomewhat angry at the intrusion at the critical moment of his lovemaking. Espérance's face was grave; he felt all the weight of theresponsibility he was about to assume. 

"Giovanni, " said he, in a measured tone, "I do not blame you for beingfascinated by a pretty, amiable girl like Annunziata Solara, far fromit. She is certainly a paragon of beauty, a model of rustic grace, avery tempting morsel of rural virtue and innocence. She is well fittedto turn the head of almost any young man--I freely acknowledge that. Itis pardonable to wish to enjoy her society--nay, a harmless flirtationwith her is, perhaps, not censurable; but that is the utmost length towhich a man of honor can go! Remember she has a reputation to lose, aheart to break!"

"What do you mean by that long sermon?" demanded the Viscount, settinghis teeth and frowning savagely. 

"I mean that you have been making love to this poor girl, that you havebeen seeking to requite her care of you in a manner but little to yourcredit!"

"I owe you my life, Espérance, " replied Massetti, "but even my gratitudewill not shield you from my fury, if you step between me and AnnunziataSolara!"

"You mean to pursue her then, to soil her name, to blast her future, forsurely you are not courting her with marriage as your object?"

Giovanni flushed scarlet at this open accusation. 

"I mean to pursue her--yes! What my object in the matter is concernsonly myself; you have nothing whatever to do with it!" he exclaimed, hotly. 

"But I have a great deal to do with it!" replied Espérance, firmly. "Youshall not pursue Annunziata Solara to her destruction! Between her goodname and your reckless intentions I will oppose a barrier you cannotsurmount--myself!"

"Do you mean to champion her to the extent of challenging me?" demandedMassetti, fairly foaming with ire. 

"If you persist in your nefarious designs, yes!" answered the son ofMonte-Cristo, with equal warmth. "You are my friend, my friend offriends, Giovanni Massetti, but the instant you menace that innocentgirl's honor my friendship for you crumbles to dust and you become mydeadly foe! Take your choice. Either leave this hospitable cabin with meas soon as the state of your wound will permit you to do so, meanwhilerespecting Annunziata Solara as you would your own sister, or meet mepistol in hand on the field of honor! Take your choice, I say! What isyour decision?"

"I will not give up Annunziata!"

"Then you must fight!"

"I shall not hesitate!"

"So be it! My life against yours! I will defend this poor girl's honorto the last drop of my blood!"

"When shall we fight?"

"To-morrow at dawn. "

"Where?"

"In the clearing beyond the chestnut copse on the further side of thebrook. There is no need of witnesses; this matter is between us and usalone!"

"So much the better, for it will be a duel to the death! I cannot as yethold my right arm aloft long enough to fight with it, but I will make myleft hand serve!" Then, as a sudden thought struck him, Massetti added:"Do you propose to betray me, to carry your story to Annunziata and herbrother?"

Espérance surveyed his companion with intense scorn flashing from hiseyes. 

"I am no traitor!" he said, coldly, and, turning, quitted the apartment. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE ABDUCTION. 

The remainder of that day Espérance and Giovanni did not meet again;they purposely avoided each other, the former because he did not wish tohave a further quarrel with the Viscount, and the latter because hedreaded a repetition of the accusations of dishonorable conduct, whichhad stung him deeper than he would own even to himself. 

Espérance disdained to play the spy upon Massetti, but, nevertheless, hedetermined not to quit the immediate vicinity of the cabin and to be aswatchful as circumstances would permit. Nothing, however, occurred toarouse his suspicions as long as daylight lasted. Once or twice Giovanniquitted his chamber and walked back and forth excitedly on the sward infront of the hut, but his promenades were of very short duration, seeming to have no other object then to calm his seething brain. Annunziata did not go near him, though whether coquetry or fear causedher to pursue this course Espérance was unable to determine, but heraction gratified him because it gave Giovanni no opportunity to followup whatever advantage he might have gained with the flower-girl. 

Lorenzo appeared to have no suspicion whatever that anything was amisseither with the young men or his sister. He was as light-hearted andcheerful as ever, going about his usual trifling occupations with gayetythat was absolutely contagious, and displaying even more than hisaccustomed amiability. Espérance had grown to esteem this youthfulpeasant highly; he had found him manliness and generosity personifiedand had resolved, on his return to Rome, to interest the Count ofMonte-Cristo in his welfare and advancement. With regard to Annunziata, Espérance was as yet altogether undecided; she was a problem he couldnot solve. Her innocence and virtue were apparent, but her childlikesimplicity and utter lack of worldly experience, while so charming anddelightful to behold, added to her wonderful beauty, exposed her torisks that were frightful to contemplate. Had she only possessed a loverin her own rank of life, all would have been well with her; but shepossessed no lover, was absolutely alone; if she escaped Giovanni, andEspérance was determined she should escape him if he could effect it, the chances were that she would eventually fall into the clutches ofsome other admirer still more reckless and unscrupulous. The son ofMonte-Cristo could not think of the lovely girl and her future without apang that made his very heart ache. He, too, admired her beauty, hergrace and her artlessness, but his admiration was confined within theproper bounds, and could he have seen her suitably and happily wedded, he would have rejoiced to the depths of his soul. 

Late in the afternoon Pasquale Solara reappeared suddenly and withoutthe least warning. The old man was covered with dust, as if he had beenjourneying far on foot. He plainly showed that he was greatly fatigued, also that something had occurred to irritate him. He entered the cabinunobserved, and was there for some moments before his presence wasdiscovered. Annunziata was the first to see him, sitting upon a rudewooden bench with his stout oaken staff in his hand on which he leanedheavily. She threw her arms about his neck with a cry of joy, endeavoring to snatch a kiss from his tightly-closed lips, but hesternly and silently repulsed her. Lorenzo, in his turn, met with nowarmer reception at his father's hands. But his children were used toPasquale's moods and were, therefore, altogether unaffected by hispresent morose deportment; they speedily left him to himself, givingthemselves no further trouble concerning him. Once when Espérance cameinto the room the old man stared at him inquiringly, as if he hadutterly forgotten the fact that strangers were enjoying the shelter ofhis roof; then he appeared to recollect and scowled so savagely that theyoung man beat a hasty retreat, going to seek Lorenzo, whose cheeryvoice was heard singing beyond the brook. 

As Espérance came in sight of the little stream, he nearly stumbled overa peasant, lying at full length beneath the spreading branches of anaged willow. The stranger was reading a book, and Espérance was amazedto notice that it was "Cæsar's Commentaries. " He uttered an apology forhis awkwardness, but the peasant only smiled and, in a gentle voice, begged pardon for being in the way. That voice! Espérance was certainhe had heard it before, but where or when he could not recall, thoughit thrilled him to the very marrow of his bones, filling him with vagueapprehensions. The man's face, too, was familiar, as also was hisattire; but there was great similarity between the Italian peasants inthe vicinity of Rome in general looks and dress; it was quite likelythat he had not seen this man before, but some other resembling him;still, the voice and face troubled Espérance, and he decided to questionthe peasant; the rarity of strangers' visits to this sequesteredlocality would be a sufficient pretext for his curiosity. 

"My friend, " said he, addressing the recumbent reader, who had resumedhis book, "are you a relative or acquaintance of the Solaras?"

"I am neither, " replied the man, carelessly, glancing up from his volumeand allowing his penetrating eyes to rest on his questioner, "I strolledhere by chance, and this cosy nook was so inviting that I tookpossession of it without a thought as to the intrusion I wascommitting. "

The peasant's language was refined; Espérance noted this fact and wasnot a little surprised thereby; in addition, he could not understand whythe stranger should be reading "Cæsar's Commentaries, " a work far beyondthe range of the usual peasant intellect. 

"You are committing no intrusion, " said he. "Lorenzo and Annunziata, Iam sure, would be glad to welcome you. Old Pasquale is somewhat of asavage, it is true, but luckily he does not bother himself much aboutanything or anybody. "

"Pasquale has arrived then?" said the man, dropping his book andevincing a sudden interest. 

"Yes; he is in the cabin now, " answered Espérance, his astonishmentincreasing. "Do you want to speak with him?"

"No, " said the peasant, lightly springing to his feet. He hastily closedhis book, thrust it into his belt, and, bowing to Espérance, disappearedin the forest. 

The young man looked after him for an instant; then he joined Lorenzoand informed him of the meeting. At his first words Annunziata's brotherceased singing; a cloud overspread his brow, and he asked, in an eagertone, for a description of the curiously behaved stranger. Espérancegave it to him, remarking as he did so that his companion turnedslightly pale and seemed frightened. 

"Who is this man?" he asked, as he concluded. "Do you know him? Heappeared strangely familiar to me. "

"Do I know him?" repeated Lorenzo, with a shudder. "Yes--that is no!"

Espérance stared at his comrade in surprise and uneasiness; the youthfulpeasant evidently had more knowledge of the singular intruder than hewas willing to admit. There was surely some mystery here. What was it?Did the presence of this stranger menace the peace, the tranquillity, the safety of the Solara family? Was he in some dark way associated withthe movements and actions of old Pasquale? Espérance attempted toquestion Lorenzo further, but he only shook his head and declined tomake any disclosures. He, however, stipulated that his sister shouldnot be informed of what had occurred, urging that there was no necessityof uselessly alarming her. Alarming her? What could he mean? Espérancegrew more and more perplexed, and his conviction that he had met thestranger previously, increasing in strength, added to his anxiety anddiscomfort. 

For some hours Giovanni had kept his room and given no sign. What was hemeditating? Was it possible that he was concocting some cunning plan bywhich to circumvent intervention and gain undisturbed possession of thegirl who had so powerfully influenced his passions? Could it be that hewas in some mysterious way associated with the strange peasant, whosesudden advent seemed of such ill omen? Espérance thought of all thesethings and was infinitely tortured by them, but, one by one, hesucceeded in dismissing them from his mind. Giovanni was certainly undera potent spell that might lead him to the commission of anyindiscretion, but he was at bottom a man of honor, and there was somechance that his better feelings might obtain the mastery of his merephysical inclinations. At any rate, Espérance felt that he could trusthim for one night more at least. Perhaps in the morning he would awakento a true sense of his position and acknowledge his error; he might evenimplore his friend's pardon, admit that he was right and consent toreturn to Rome, leaving the bewitching Annunziata in all her innocenceand purity. Upon reflection Espérance decided that the stranger could bein nowise the associate or accomplice of the Viscount, for the latterhad communicated with no one, had not even gone a dozen steps from theSolara cabin during his entire period of convalescence. The idea ofcollusion was untenable. Espérance resolved to watch and wait. There wasno telling what a few hours might bring forth; but at the worst he wouldfight; if he fell he would not regret it, and, if Giovanni perished athis hands, his death would be due to his own headlong impulses and hisblood, under the circumstances, could not be a disgraceful, dishonorablestain. 

Towards nightfall old Pasquale Solara began to display unwontedactivity, showing, at the same time, signs of considerable agitation. Hewas yet uncommunicative and morose, spoke only at rare intervals; oftenhe did not reply at all to the questions addressed to him, and when hedid answer it was only in gruff, snappish monosyllables. He went fromplace to place uneasily, frequently leaving the cabin and gazingpeeringly and stealthily into the forest as if he expected some one orwas looking for some secret signal known only to himself. He glanced atLorenzo and Espérance suspiciously, seeking, as it were, to penetratetheir very thoughts. When he encountered Annunziata, he examined herfrom head to foot with a strange mixture of satisfaction, anxiety andtremulousness. At such times there was a greedy, wolfish expression inhis glittering eyes, and his hands worked nervously. 

When twilight had given place to darkness, he suddenly left the hut anddid not return. His unusual conduct had occasioned somewhat of acommotion in the little household, but quiet reigned after his departureand his singular behavior was speedily forgotten by his children. Notso, however, with Espérance. The young man, agitated as he was with theturmoil of his own feelings, could not get old Pasquale and his behaviorout of his mind. It filled him with sinister forebodings and made himlook forward to the night with an indefinable dread, not unmingled withabsolute fear. It seemed to him that the old shepherd was meditatingsome dark and desperate deed that would be put into execution withdisastrous results ere dawn. 

The evening, nevertheless, passed without incident, and in due coursesleep brooded over the Solara cabin, wrapping all its inmates in silenceand repose. All its inmates? All save the son of Monte-Cristo, whotossed restlessly upon his couch and could not close his eyes. Atlength, however, he managed to calm himself somewhat and was justsinking into a sort of half slumber when he was suddenly roused by awild, far echoing cry that caused him to leap instantly from his bed. The cry was a woman's, and he thought he recognized the voice, ofAnnunziata Solara. A second's thought seemed to satisfy him on thispoint, for the flower-girl was the only female in the vicinity and thevoice was certainly hers; but it sounded from a distance, without thecabin, and this fact bewildered him. Promptly old Solara's conductreturned to his mind, and instinctively he connected the morose shepherdwith the cry and whatever was happening. The young man had not removedhis garments; it was, therefore, only the work of an instant for him tograsp his pistol, which he kept loaded beneath his pillow, and rush fromthe hut in the direction of the cry, which had been repeated, but wasgrowing fainter and fainter. 

As he emerged from the cabin, he heard a shot echo through the forest, and almost immediately a man rushed into his arms, bleeding profuselyfrom a gaping wound in the temple. The night was moonless and dark, butin the feeble and uncertain light Espérance recognized Lorenzo. 

"My sister--my sister--poor Annunziata!" the young peasant gasped, painfully. "Your friend--abducted--gone! Oh! my God!" and he sank to theground an unconscious mass, quivering in the final agonies ofdissolution. 

Espérance was horror-stricken. Annunziata abducted by Giovanni! He coulddraw no other conclusion from the young peasant's broken exclamations!Lorenzo slain, too, and doubtlessly also by the impetuous Viscount'shand! Oh! it was horrible!--it was almost beyond belief! He bent overLorenzo's prostrate form, straightened it out and felt in the region ofthe heart; there was no beat; it was as he had divined--Annunziata'smanly and generous brother was dead--the victim of a cowardly, treacherous assassin--and that assassin!--oh! he could not think of itand retain his faith in men!

Espérance left Lorenzo's corpse lying upon the sward, and, pistol inhand, started forward to go to Annunziata's aid, to rescue her from herdastardly abductor, if it lay within his power to do so. He reached theforest and plunged into its sombre depths. Scarcely had he gone twentyfeet when a man carrying a flaming torch rushed wildly by him, in hisshirt sleeves, hatless, his short, thick gray hair standing almost erectupon his head. In the sudden flash of light his haggard eyes blazed likethose of a maniac. In his left hand he held a long, keen-bladed knife. He glanced neither to the right nor the left, but kept straight on, asif he were a ferocious bloodhound in pursuit of human prey. Espérancecame to an abrupt pause, and stared with wide-open eyes at the startlingapparition. It was old Pasquale Solara! The son of Monte-Cristoshuddered as he thought that the father, with all his Italian ferocitythoroughly aroused, was in pursuit of the man who had abducted hisdaughter and murdered his son. In that event the Viscount's death wassure, for he could not escape the vengeance of the distracted andremorseless shepherd! Should he raise his voice and warn him? No, athousand times no! Giovanni deserved death, and did the furious old maninflict it, he would be only advancing the just punishment of theoutraged law!

Quickly resolving to follow in the footsteps of Pasquale Solara, Espérance dashed on, utterly regardless of the bushes and briars thatimpeded his progress and tore great rents in his garments. Soon excitedvoices reached him, then the noise of a violent struggle. He pushedrapidly forward, intent upon reaching the scene of conflict, where hedid not doubt the hapless Annunziata would be found. Soon heindistinctly saw two men engaged in a hand to hand strife. One wasevidently Pasquale Solara, for a torch was smouldering on the groundhalf-extinguished by the damp moss, and the young man caught anoccasional flash of a knife such as the shepherd had carried when hepassed him, but beyond these circumstances all was supposition, for theidentity of the contending men could not be made out in the obscurity. 

Grasping his pistol tightly, Espérance was about declaring his presencewhen the figure of a man sprang up before him with the suddenness of aflash of lightning, seeming to emerge from the very ground at his feet. At that instant the torch gave a brilliant gleam and went out, but inthat gleam Espérance recognized the man who opposed his progress as thestrange peasant he had seen reading "Cæsar's Commentaries" the previousafternoon by the brook in the vicinity of the Solara cabin. Was he, too, mixed up in the abduction, and how? Again the suspicion returned toEspérance that he was the confederate, the accomplice of the ViscountMassetti. 

"Remain where you are!" commanded the intruder, sternly. "If you advanceanother step, the consequences be upon your own head!"

"Stand aside and let me pass!" thundered the young man, presenting hispistol at his opponent's head. The other gave a low laugh, made a quickmovement and Espérance's weapon went whirling swiftly through the air. Meanwhile the sounds of strife had ceased, and the almost impenetrabledarkness of the forest effectually prevented the young man fromdistinguishing anything a yard distant. As his pistol was hurled fromhis grasp he closed his fists tightly, set his teeth firmly together andmade a frantic dash at the peasant. The latter leaped aside withsurprising agility, vanishing instantaneously among the clusteringtrees. So sudden was his leap that Espérance, carried on by the strongimpetus he had given himself, plunged wildly into a clump of bushes andfell headlong upon a thick growth of moss, the softness of whichprevented him from sustaining even the slightest bruise. As he came incontact with the moss, his hand touched something cold that sent an icyshiver through him from head to foot. Instinctively he recognized theobject as a human face, and passing his hand along he felt the body andlimbs. Great heavens! who was this? Had another murder been done? Wouldthere ever be an end to the horrors and mysteries of this dreadfulnight? The body was that of a man. Espérance arose to his knees anddrawing a match-safe from his pocket struck a light. As the flameflashed upon the countenance of the unconscious man, the features ofGiovanni Massetti appeared! Espérance was stunned. How was this? TheViscount there, beneath his hand, cold and motionless! Who then couldhave been the individual with whom old Pasquale Solara had beenstruggling but a moment since? Truly the mysteries of this night werebecoming too complicated for solution! And where was the unfortunateAnnunziata? Had she escaped from her captor or captors, had she beenrescued, had she perished like her ill-fated brother, or had theabduction been successfully accomplished? None of these questions couldEspérance answer. One thing, however, was plain--there was no trace ofher now; no clue that he could follow; therefore, further pursuit forthe present was useless. Sadly he determined to wait for day and thenresolve upon some plan to put into immediate execution to retrieve, asfar as possible the great wrong that had been done. 

But Giovanni must be attended to. Guilty or innocent, dead or alive, hecould not be abandoned where he was. Humanity demanded that some effortbe made in his behalf. Perhaps, too, if he were in a condition to speak, some key to the strange, bewildering and terrible transactions of thenight might be obtained. Espérance raised him in his arms and carriedhim to the brook near the Solara cabin. By this time the moon had arisenand in its silvery rays he examined him thoroughly. There was no traceof blood, no wound; only a large bruise on his forehead, as if he hadbeen struck with some heavy object and knocked down unconscious. He wasalive, for his heart was beating, and once or twice he had moved on thesward where Espérance had placed him. The young man made a cup of hishands, and, dipping some cool water from the stream, dashed it in theViscount's face. Instantly he opened his eyes, gazing about him inbewilderment. He sat up and stared wildly at Espérance. 

"What is the matter? How came I here?" he asked, in astonishment. Thensuddenly putting his hand to the bruise on his forehead, as if itpained him, he continued: "Ah! yes! I remember it all now! Luigi Vampastruck me!"

"Luigi Vampa struck you?" cried Espérance, more amazed than ever. 

"Yes, after he had forced me to take a fearful oath to remain silent!"

"Silent about what? The abduction of Annunziata Solara?"

"Hush! hush! Do not mention that girl's name! Vampa or some of his menmay be lurking in the vicinity and hear!"

"What has become of her? At least tell me that! You know!"

"As God is my judge, I do not!"

"Were you not with her to-night? Did you not forcibly take her from thecabin?"

"No! no!"

"Who did then?"

"Alas! my oath compels silence on that point!"

"Your oath! That is a very convenient excuse! Giovanni, Luigi Vampa wasnot here to-night. "

"He was. He lurked around the cabin all day, that when darkness came hemight commit the blackest deed that ever sullied the record of mankind!"

Instantly Espérance recollected the peasant he had met that afternoonbeside the brook, the man who, but a short while before, had opposed hispassage and disarmed him in the forest. His vague familiarity with hisvoice, face and dress was now accounted for. The man was Luigi Vampa. There could be no doubt of it. But why had he abducted AnnunziataSolara, as Giovanni's words would seem to infer? Why, save as theconfederate and accomplice of the Viscount Massetti? But then how hadGiovanni communicated with him, and in what manner had they contrived toarrange the details of their dishonorable plot? Was it possible that oldPasquale had been the medium of correspondence between the two men. Hadhe been base enough to sell his child? In that case, with whom had hefought so fiercely and desperately in the forest? Why also had thebrigand chief sworn Giovanni to silence? Vain questions, admitting of nosatisfactory replies. The Viscount's story was incredible; it was, without doubt, a mere fabrication intended to cover and conceal his ownguilt in the premises. Still Espérance could not reconcile this theorywith the fact of finding Giovanni senseless in the forest. 

The young Italian had by this time fully recovered from the effects ofthe shock he had received. He arose to his feet, and, approachingEspérance, said, earnestly:

"My friend, let the past be forgotten. I was wrong and you were right. Iask your pardon. As to the abduction of this unfortunate girl, I assureyou that I am entirely innocent of it!"

"But who fired the shot that killed Lorenzo?" asked Espérance, sternly. 

"Killed Lorenzo!" cried Giovanni, with unmistakable horror. "Was Lorenzokilled?"

"He was shot to-night and died in my arms!"

"Oh! this is terrible!" exclaimed the Viscount, beads of coldperspiration breaking out upon his forehead. "I assure you, Espérance, Ihad no hand in this foul murder--I knew nothing of it! I did hear thereport of a pistol, but who discharged the weapon or at whom it wasfired I could not tell. Everything seemed like a disordered dream!"

As Espérance said not a word in reply, the Viscount continued:

"Again I assert my innocence of the dark crimes that have been committedto-night! Do you not believe my protestation?"

"I know not what to believe, " answered the young man. "But I will notconsider you guilty until you are proved so. "

"Then, " cried Giovanni, joyously, "I have a proposition to make to you. Swear that you will be silent about everything that has occurred sincewe met Annunziata Solara in the Piazza del Popolo, including theterrible events of to-night, and I will start with you for Rome thisvery instant!"

"And you will renounce your pursuit of the flower-girl?"

"I will renounce it!"

"Do you swear to do so?"

"I swear it!"

"Then, on my side, I here take the oath of silence you require!"

"You forgive me for having quarreled with you?"

"I forgive you!"

"Then let us leave this accursed spot without another moment's delay!"

"So be it!"

They hastily quitted the bank of the little stream and went to the cabinto prepare for their immediate departure. As they passed the spot whereLorenzo's body had lain, Espérance noticed with a start that it was nolonger there. They entered the cabin. It was dark and deserted. Espérance lighted a candle and, as he did so, perceived a scrap of paperupon the floor. He stooped mechanically and picked it up. It was rumpledas if it had been crushed in the hand and cast away. The young manstraightened it out. It was a brief letter. He held it to the candleand, with a sickening sensation at his heart, read as follows:

 DEAREST ANNUNZIATA: All is prepared. We will fly to-night. Be ready. TONIO. 

The note was in Massetti's handwriting. Espérance silently passed it tohim. The Viscount read it with eyes bulging from their sockets, hisfingers trembling so he could scarcely hold the paper. 

"The evidence is conclusive!" said Espérance, icily, as Massettifinished reading. "It is a confession! You abducted Annunziata Solara!"

"What can I say to justify myself?" cried Giovanni, bitterly. "Oh! thataccursed oath!"

"And you have sworn me to silence, also, wretched man!" said Espérance. "Why was I so weak!"

He looked scornfully at the Viscount, who stood with bowed head. Then headded:

"I understand you now! You did not wish me to betray you, to set thehounds of Justice on your track, to cause you to be punished, brandedand disgraced! You were shrewd and imposed upon me. But my oath issacred--I will keep it! Let us return to Rome at once as we originallyproposed. There I will challenge you in due form for an alleged insult, and we will settle this matter at the pistol's mouth!"

In a few moments more they were on their road to the Eternal City, leaving behind them the cabin into which they had brought ruin anddeath!

CHAPTER X. 

THE COUNTESS OF MONTE-CRISTO. 

Rome was agitated by a vague scandal, so vague, in fact, that nobodyseemed to know the precise details. It had arisen from a newspaperaccount, given in the indefinite, unsatisfactory way characteristic ofRoman journalism. One of the city journals had published the statementthat a young and very handsome peasant girl, living with her father inthe country beyond the Trastavere, had recently been abducted, reportsaid, by a youthful member of the Roman aristocracy; that the recklessscion of nobility had courted and won her in the guise of a peasant, hadcarried her off to a bandit fastness and there had eventually desertedher. No names were given. Inquiry at the office of the journal elicitedthe fact that the proprietors had undoubted authority for thepublication of the statement, but no further information could be gainedfrom them. A few days later, however, the same newspaper gave thefurther particulars that the nobleman had been assisted in effecting theabduction by a young foreigner residing in Rome, and that the brother ofthe unfortunate girl had been killed in attempting to rescue her. Thatcompleted all the intelligence ever vouchsafed to the public in regardto the mysterious affair, and thereafter the journal maintained anunbroken silence respecting the matter. The rumor ran that itsproprietors had been bribed by interested parties to say nothingfurther, but this rumor could not be traced to any reliable source andwas, therefore, by many considered a fabrication. No steps were taken bythe authorities in the premises, and it was evident that the affair wasto be allowed to die out. Still Roman society was considerably excited, conjectures as to the identity of the guilty party and his accomplicebeing rife in all the fashionable and aristocratic quarters of the city. These conjectures, however, did not grow to positive statements, thoughinsidious hints were thrown out that those who guessed the ViscountGiovanni Massetti to be the culprit were not far out of the way. Massetti, it was known, had been absent from Rome for several days aboutthe period the abduction was supposed to have taken place, but he didnot deign to notice the hints current in regard to himself and no onewas hardy enough to question him. Nevertheless some color was given tothe rumors concerning him by the fact that, immediately on his return tothe city, after the absence above referred to, he became involved in aviolent quarrel with a young Frenchman, generally supposed to beEspérance, the son of Monte-Cristo, who at once challenged him to aduel, but the duel was not fought for some reason not made public, thedifference between the two fiery youths having been arranged through themediation of mutual friends. It was observed, however, and widelycommented upon that, although the twain had previously been almostinseparable companions, Espérance after this quarrel studiously avoidedthe Viscount Massetti, refraining from even mentioning his name. 

Meanwhile at Civita Vecchia another act in the drama of AnnunziataSolara's clouded life had been played. In that city was located a famousasylum for unfortunate women, founded and managed by a French lady ofenormous wealth and corresponding benevolence, Madame Helena deRancogne, the Countess of Monte-Cristo. [6] This lady was untiring in herefforts to reclaim and rehabilitate the fallen of her sex. She was theSuperior of the Order of Sisters of Refuge, the members of which werescattered throughout Europe, but made their headquarters at the asylumin Civita Vecchia, where a sufficient number of them constantly aidedMadame de Rancogne in carrying out her good and philanthropic work. 

The Refuge, as the asylum was called, was a vast edifice of gray stonewith a sombre and cloister-like look. Over the huge entrance door on atablet of polished metal this sentence was incrusted in conspicuousletters of black: "Be Not Led to Consider Any Unworthy!" It was anutterance of the Countess of Monte-Cristo in the past and had beenadopted as the guiding rule and maxim of the Order of Sisters of Refuge. The interior of the building in no way corresponded with its gloomy, forbidding outside. Tall, wide windows freely admitted the ardent raysof the glowing Italian sun, flooding the corridors and apartments withcheerful light and warmth. Crimson hangings and magnificently wroughttapestry of fabulous price adorned the walls, while costly and beautifulstatues and paintings, the work of old masters and contemporaneousartists, added to the attractiveness of the numerous salons anddrawing-rooms. The great refectory and the dormitories possessed charmsof their own, bright colors everywhere greeting the eye and nothingbeing allowed that could inspire or promote melancholy moods or painfulthoughts. There was an immense library, to which all the inmates of theRefuge had free access. It was sumptuously furnished, and the floor wascovered with a gorgeous Turkey carpet, so thick and soft that footstepsmade no sound upon it, while the brilliant figures of tropical flowersprofusely studding it gave the impression of eternal summer. Desksabundantly supplied with writing materials, tables loaded with thelatest newspapers and periodicals in all the languages of Europe, luxurious sofas and inviting fauteuils allured those succored by theCountess of Monte-Cristo and her vigilant aids. On every side thelibrary was surrounded with book-cases, containing absorbing romances, volumes of travel, the productions of the celebrated poets, historiesand essays, with a liberal sprinkling of religious works, mostlynon-sectarian and invariably of a consolatory character. In additionelegantly and thoroughly equipped work-rooms were provided, in whichthose who were so inclined could practice embroidery, sew or manufacturethe thousand and one little fancy knick-knacks at which female fingersare so skilful. Nothing, however, was compulsory, the main object beingto afford the inmates of the Refuge agreeable occupation, to elevatethem and to prevent them from looking back regretfully to the agitatedlives they had led and the vices that had held empire over them in thepast. Truly a more generous, unselfish lover of her sex than the nobleCountess of Monte-Cristo did not exist. 

The protégées of the Sisters of the Order of Refuge embraced women ofall ages, all nationalities and all conditions in life. They includedParisian grisettes and lorettes, recruited by Nini Moustache in hercoquettish apartment of the Chaussée d' Antin, for Nini had proved amost effective missionary; young girls, who had fallen a prey todesigning roués and been abandoned to the whirl of that gulf ofdestruction, the streets of Paris; Spanish senoritas, who had listenedtoo credulously to the false vows of faithless lovers; Italian peasantgirls, whose pretty faces and charms of person had been their ruin;unfortunate German, English, Dutch and Scandinavian maidens; and evenbrands snatched from the burning in Russia, Turkey and Greece. Thissomewhat diverse community dwelt together in perfect sisterly accord, chastened by their individual misfortunes, encouraged and upheld in thepath of reform by the Countess of Monte-Cristo, who was to all theunfortunates as a tender, thoughtful and considerate mother. 

One quiet night, just as darkness had settled down over the streets ofCivita Vecchia, a timid knock at the entrance door of the Refugearoused the portress on duty there. Such knocks were often heard andwell understood. The portress arose from her bench, partly opened thedoor and admitted a trembling young girl, whose crouching and shrunkenform was clad in a mass of tattered rags. A thin red cloak was thrownover her shoulders, and her pale, emaciated face spoke plainly ofpoverty, hardship and suffering. Even Giovanni Massetti would have withdifficulty recognized in this wretched outcast the once shapely andbeautiful flower-girl of the Piazza del Popolo, for the applicant at theRefuge door was no other than the ill-fated Annunziata Solara. Herbeauty had faded away like a summer dream, vanished as the perfume froma withered hyacinth. She stood before the portress silently, withclasped hands, the incarnation of misery, distress and desertion. 

"What do you require, my poor child?" asked the portress, tenderly andsympathetically. 

"Shelter, only shelter!" replied the girl, beseechingly, in a hollow, broken voice, the ghost of her former full and joyous tones. 

"The Superior must decide upon your case, " said the portress. "You shallgo to her at once. "

The woman touched a bell, directing the Sister of the Order of Refugewho answered it to conduct the applicant to the apartment of Madame deRancogne. The trembling Annunziata was led through a long corridor andushered into a small, but cosy office in which sat an elderly lady ofcommanding and aristocratic presence, whose head was covered with curlsof silver hair, and whose still handsome countenance wore an expressivelook in which compassion and benevolence predominated. This lady was thecelebrated Madame Helena de Rancogne, whose adventures and exploits asthe Countess of Monte-Cristo had in the past electrified every Europeannation. She arose as Annunziata entered, welcoming her with a cordial, comforting smile. 

"Sit down, my child, " she said, in a rich, melodious voice. "You arefatigued. Are you also hungry?"

Annunziata sank into the chair offered her, covering her face with herthin hands. 

"Alas! signora, " she replied, faintly, "I have walked many weary milesand have not tasted a morsel of food since dawn!"

"Take the poor child to the refectory, " said the Countess to the Sister, who had remained standing near the door. "After her hunger has beenappeased, I will see her again and question her. "

Half an hour later, Annunziata, refreshed and strengthened by her meal, once more sat in the office with the Countess of Monte-Cristo. 

"My child, " said the latter, "what is your name?"

"Annunziata Solara. "

"You have applied for shelter here the portress informs me. Do you knowthat this is an asylum for the fallen of your sex?"

"I know it, signora; that is the reason I came. "

"Have you repented of your sin and do you desire to lead a better life?"

"I have repented bitterly, " answered the girl, bursting into a flood oftears, "oh! how bitterly God alone knows! I wish to hide myself from theworld; I wish to atone for my shame by whatever good action my hands canfind to do. "

"It is well, " said the Countess, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "The field is wide, and the Order of Sisters of Refuge, although large, is always open for new additions. Much good has already been done, butmore remains to be accomplished, infinitely more. You shall be receivedand given an opportunity to share in the great work. "

"From the depths of my soul I thank you!" sobbed the girl. "I will tryearnestly to be worthy of your benevolence!"

"Tell me your story now, " said the Superior. "I cannot believe that theguilt was altogether yours. "

"I am grateful, signora, for those words. I was thoughtless andindiscreet, but not criminal. Happy and contented in my humble peasanthome, I was pure and innocent. I knew nothing of the wickedness of men, of the snares set to entrap unwary young girls. I lived with my fatherand brother in the vicinity of Rome, selling flowers in that city fromtime to time. I had never had a suitor, never had a lover. My heart wasfree, filled with the joyousness of youth. I had been told that Ipossessed a fair share of beauty, but that neither made me vain norinclined me to coquetry. Oh! signora, I shall never be so happy again!"

Emotion overcame her and her tears started afresh. The Countess soothedher and she continued:

"One fatal night, my brother brought two strange young men to ourcabin. They appeared to be peasants like ourselves, and one of them hadbeen wounded in a fight with a brigand. They remained with us for somedays. I nursed the wounded man, who, when he grew convalescent, madelove to me. I listened to his ardent declarations, submitted to hisendearments. I grew to love him in my turn, and, oh! signora, I believedin him, trusted him. At that period I had nothing to reproach myselfwith, and Tonio, that was my admirer's name, seemed sincerity itself. One day he asked me to fly with him, but our conversation wasinterrupted and I gave him no answer. I was confused, I did not knowwhat to do. That evening I received a letter from him--I found it on thetable in the room I occupied, concealed beneath my work-box--telling methat everything was prepared for our flight that night, and asking me tobe in readiness. I was terrified. I could not understand why he wishedme to fly with him if everything was as it should be, as my father andbrother would not have objected to any proper suitor for my hand on whomI had bestowed my heart. For the first time I was suspicious of Tonio, and I resolved to pay no attention to his letter. On the morrow I wouldsee him and tell him to speak to my father and brother. Alas! thatopportunity was not given me. Oh! that horrible, horrible night!"

She covered her face with her hands and shuddered. When she looked upshe was ghastly pale, and her voice quivered as she resumed:

"That dreadful night, as I lay upon my bed, wrapped in slumber, I wassuddenly aroused by hearing some one in my chamber. It was very dark andI could not see the intruder. I started up in terror, but a hand wasplaced firmly over my mouth. I was torn from my bed and borne in a man'sarms from the cabin. I struggled to release myself, but in vain. Myabductor appeared to possess the strength of a giant. There was no moon, but in the dim starlight I could see that the man was masked. Hehastened with me into the neighboring forest. There he accidentallystruck his right arm against the trunk of a tree and his hand droppedfrom my mouth. Instantly I uttered a loud, piercing cry, but the handwent back to its place again almost immediately, and I was unable togive vent to another sound. My cry, however, had been heard by mybrother, who hastened to my assistance. He overtook my abductor in theforest, and, though unarmed, at once attacked him. The man dropped meand turned upon my brother. A fierce struggle ensued, during which themask was struck from my abductor's face and, to my horror, I thought Irecognized Tonio. Suddenly there was a report of a pistol. I had watchedthe conflict, unable to move. I saw my brother stagger; blood wasgushing from him. I could endure no more; I fell to the ground in aswoon. 

"When I recovered my senses, I was in a strange hut. Savage looking men, whom I took to be bandits, were guarding me. How long I remained in thehut I do not know, but it must have been several days. At times amasked man came to me, telling me that he was Tonio and pressing hissuit upon me. I refused to listen to him, upbraiding him for tearing mefrom my home and wounding my brother. I told him his conduct was notthat of a lover, but of a villain. I implored him, if he possessed aspark of manhood, to set me free, to send me to my father. He informedme that I was his captive and should so remain until I yielded to hiswishes. I repulsed him with scorn, with the energy of desperation. Ultimately he overpowered me by sheer force, and compelled me to yield. Then I saw him no more. I wandered about the hut like one demented. Mycup of sorrow was full to overflowing. I was in despair. Shame anddegradation were henceforth my portion. 

"After my abductor's departure, a new comer appeared among the brigands. He seemed to be their chief. He expressed pity for me, and told me thatmy abductor was not a peasant, but a young Roman nobleman, the ViscountGiovanni Massetti. I cared nothing for this revelation. I had no thoughtof vengeance; my sole desire was to hide myself from the gaze of theworld, to avoid the pitiless finger of scorn. Eventually the banditchief took me back to my home. There I found my father, learning fromhis lips that my brother was dead. This intelligence made my sorrowutterly unbearable. My father was moody and morose. For days at a timehe did not speak to me. He appeared to have lost all paternal affection. Finally I left the cabin. I had heard of the Refuge and determined toseek its shelter. I walked to Civita Vecchia, and to-night found myselfat your door. Such, signora, is my sad history. I have told you thewhole truth. You see I am not altogether to blame. "

As Annunziata concluded, the Countess of Monte-Cristo drew her upon herbosom. 

"My poor girl, " said she, in tender, pitying tones, "you have, indeed, tasted the bitterness of life and have been more sinned against thansinning. But you are my daughter now. The Sisterhood of the Order ofRefuge has covered you with its protecting shield. "

FOOTNOTE:

[6] For a full account of the life and career of "The Countess ofMonte-Cristo, " see that powerful, romantic and absorbing novel, "TheCountess of Monte-Cristo, " published by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia. 

CHAPTER XI. 

THE BEGGAR AND HIS MATES. 

A year had elapsed since the events already recorded. Zuleika, havingfinished her studies at the convent school of the Sisterhood of theSacred Heart, the Count of Monte-Cristo had quitted Rome and, with hisfamily, was established in Paris in the palatial mansion, No. 27 Rue duHelder, formerly occupied by the Count de Morcerf. He was a member ofthe Chamber of Deputies, representing Marseilles, and was wedded to hisfirst love, Mercédès, who had mysteriously reappeared and nursed himthrough a severe illness, which was immediately followed by theirmarriage. The revolution of 1848, which had placed M. Lamartine at thehead of the Provisional Government, had put power and office within hisgrasp, but he had declined both, preferring to work in the wider fieldof universal human freedom. His eminent services during the revolutionhad rendered him immensely popular with the masses, and the fame of hismatchless eloquence added to the vast influence he so modestly wielded. His colossal wealth, which he lavishly used to promote the great causehe championed, also tended to make him a conspicuous figure in thepolitical and high social circles of the capital, though he strove tocourt retirement. 

Zuleika and Espérance fairly adored their mild, kindly stepmother, who, on her side, was as devotedly attached to them as if they had been herown children. The Count noted this mutual attachment, which time onlyserved to strengthen, and it filled his heart with joy andgratification. The family was, indeed, a happy one, and even theservants shared the general felicity. 

Mlle. D' Armilly's influence over Captain Joliette great as itundoubtedly was, had been insufficient to induce that gallant andhonorable young soldier to seek a rupture with the wonderful man to whomhe was so vastly indebted and whom he so highly revered. This had atfirst caused a coldness between the revengeful prima donna and heradmirer, but a reconciliation had ultimately taken place between themand they were now man and wife. Prior to their marriage Mlle. D' Armillyhad acknowledged herself to be Eugénie Danglars, and thus the motive ofher bitter hostility to the Count of Monte-Cristo was revealed. She hadretired from the operatic stage, and had received a large sum of money, stated to be a legacy from her father, but generally believed to be agift from the Count, intended by him in some degree to make amends toher for the sufferings she had endured by reason of his vengeance on thebanker Danglars. The prima donna's brother Léon had turned out to be awoman masquerading in male attire, no other than Mlle. D' Armillyherself, Eugénie's former music-teacher, who had loaned her name to herfriend when the latter started on her operatic career. Thesetransformations had been immediately followed by another, CaptainJoliette discarding his pseudonym and appearing as Albert de Morcerf. Paris had talked over and wondered at all this for a week, and then hadcompletely forgotten it, turning its fickle attention to newer and moreengrossing sensations. Albert's marriage and the legacy healed thebreach between Eugénie and the Count of Monte-Cristo, and the youngcouple, together with the real Mlle. D' Armilly, had been added to thehappy family in the mansion of the Rue du Helder. 

The Viscount Giovanni Massetti had appeared in Paris. Immediately afterhis reckless visit to Zuleika in the convent garden and his wildinterview with her there, he had gone to the Count of Monte-Cristo, avowed his love for Haydée's child and solicited her hand in marriage. He had been told to wait a year, a period he had passed he scarcely knewhow, but it had been an eternity to him, an eternity fraught withrestless anxiety, with alternations between ardent hope and the depthsof despair. The expiration of his probation found him in the mansion ofthe Rue du Helder, renewing his earnest suit with the Count, who hadgranted him permission to win his daughter if he could. The youngItalian had at once sought Zuleika, who had welcomed him as her loverand betrothed. Then a clash had suddenly arisen; Espérance had expressedhis abhorrence of his sister's suitor, had given mysterious hints thathad recalled the half-forgotten Roman scandal, and a separation betweenGiovanni and Zuleika had ensued, the former refusing to speak out andclear himself, pleading his terrible oath of silence. In the course ofhis vague, unsatisfactory disclosures, Espérance had unguardedlymentioned the name of Luigi Vampa, and the Count of Monte-Cristo hadwritten to the brigand chief, requesting such information as hepossessed in regard to the impenetrable mystery. Vampa's reply had beena fearful arraignment of the youthful Viscount, but Zuleika could notbelieve her lover the depraved and guilty wretch the brigand chiefrepresented him to be, asserting that there was something yetunexplained, something that would effectually exculpate him could it bereached. The Count of Monte-Cristo had at first inclined to the beliefthat Massetti was merely the victim of circumstances, of some remarkablecoincidence, but Vampa's letter scattered this belief to the winds andhe demanded that the Viscount should conclusively prove his innocence. Zuleika had meanwhile banished her lover from her presence, but herheart yearned for him and defended him in spite of everything. Shetherefore sent him Vampa's letter, assuring him of her belief in hisinnocence and commanding him to prove it to her and to the world. Thereupon Giovanni had instantly quitted Paris. His sudden disappearanceseemed like a flight; it caused scandal's thousand tongues to wagremorselessly; but, although he left no word for her, Zuleika knew hercommand had sent him to Italy to clear his name and record in her eyes;she was firmly convinced that she would see him again, that he wouldreturn to Paris rehabilitated. 

Such was the general condition of affairs, as affecting theMonte-Cristo family, at the time the thread of this narrative isresumed. 

It was the month of July. The heat in Paris was intense, absolutelystifling; a white glow seemed to fall from the breezeless, yellowatmosphere, scorching the very pavements; for weeks there had been norain, not the slightest sign of a cloud in the pitiless heavens. Thestreets were almost deserted; even that favored thoroughfare of fashion, the Rue de la Paix, boasted of but few promenaders; the only spot inrequest was the Bois de Boulogne, with its magnificent trees anddeliciously shaded avenues; the Champs-Elysées, throughout its entireextent, from the Place de la Concorde to the Arc de l' Étoile, was likea sun-swept desert, and its picturesque marchands de coco, with theirshining mugs, snow-white aprons and tinkling bells, found only a limiteddemand for their liquorice water and lemon juice, while even theThéâtres de Guignol failed to arrest the rare passers. 

In the vast garden of the Monte-Cristo mansion, notwithstanding itspower elsewhere, the sun seemed to have been successfully defied; therethe trees, shrubs and plants were not parched, but preserved all theirfreshness and beauty, suggesting the coolness of early spring ratherthan the sweltering heat of midsummer, while the parterres werebrilliant with gorgeous bloom and penetrating perfumes loaded the air. Near a little gate opening upon the Rue du Helder, early one morning, Zuleika and Mlle. D' Armilly were sitting on a rustic bench beneath anample honeysuckle-covered arbor. They had come to the garden from thebreakfast-room to rest and chat after their meal. The formermusic-teacher was telling her companion of her stage experience and ofthe many adventures she had met with during her operatic career. In themidst of a most interesting recital, she suddenly paused, fixing hereyes upon the little gate, with a cry of surprise and terror. Zuleikafollowed the direction of her glance and gave a start as she saw, leaning against the bars of the gate, a sinister-looking man, clad industy, tattered garments, who was peering at her companion and herselfwith eyes that glittered like those of some venomous serpent. When henoticed that he was observed, the man pulled a greasy, weather-stainedcap from his head, disclosing a profusion of matted, whitened locks, and, stretching a grimy hand, with hooked fingers that resembled theclaws of an enormous bird, through the bars, said, in the hoarse tonespeculiar to the outcasts of the streets:

"Charity, for the love of God!"

The man seemed more like a thief than a beggar. Nevertheless, Mlle. D'Armilly, who was the first to recover her self-possession, drew a fewsous from her pocket and advanced to place them in his palm. As she camecloser to him, the mendicant acted very strangely. Instead of taking themoney, he suddenly withdrew his hand, staring at Mlle. D' Armilly withan expression of mingled terror and amazement upon his evil countenance. Then he quickly turned from the gate, thrust on his cap and started offat a rapid pace. Mlle. D' Armilly also was singularly affected; shedropped the sous, became ashy pale and would have fallen to the groundhad not Zuleika sprung to her side and caught her in her arms. 

"What is the matter, Louise?" cried the girl, astonished at the beggar'sbehavior and still more so at the effect he had produced upon hercompanion. 

"I have seen a ghost!" replied Mlle. D' Armilly, in a startling whisper. 

"A ghost?"

"Yes! Oh! let us quit the garden at once!"

"The ghost of whom?"

"I dare not say! Come, come, I cannot remain here another second! Howfortunate that young Madame de Morcerf was not with us! She would havebeen driven mad!"

"Albert's wife? You talk wildly, Louise. What interest could she feel inthat wretched outcast?"

"What interest? Do not ask me. I cannot, I must not tell you! Oh! it isterrible!"

"Will you tell Albert's wife of what you have seen?"

"No! a thousand times no! She must not even suspect that man's returnfrom the grave! I entreat you to say nothing to her or any one else!"

"I shall be silent upon the subject; but that beggar was not a ghost; hewas a most substantial reality. Something frightened him away, something, doubtless, that he saw in the street, perhaps a sergent deville. Your recognition of him was fancied. "

"It was not fancied. But we must not stay here; I would not see thatface, those eyes again for worlds!"

Zuleika took her friend's arm and walked with her towards the mansion, endeavoring as they went along to reassure her, to reason her out of herfright. Her efforts, however, proved altogether futile. Mlle. D' Armillywas utterly unnerved and at once retired to her room. 

Notwithstanding her willingness to believe that Mlle. D' Armilly hadbeen deceived with regard to the identity of the beggar and, in herconfusion, had confounded him with some one else, Zuleika could notaltogether shake off a feeling of vague apprehension, of ill-definedterror when she thought over the singular conduct and wild agitation ofthe former music-teacher in the quiet and solitude of her own chamber. Why had Mlle. D' Armilly been so stricken at the sight of the mendicant?Why had she so earnestly entreated her to say nothing of what hadoccurred to any one, and, especially, to avoid all mention of the matterto Albert de Morcerf's wife? Mlle. D' Armilly had seen too much of theworld to be frightened by a mere trifle. Was it possible that the raggedoutcast had been in some way identified with young Madame de Morcerf'soperatic career, that he had been her lover? The latter suppositionwould furnish a plausible cause for the former music-teacher's terror, as the reappearance of a lover might lead to disclosures well-calculatedto seriously disturb the happiness and tranquillity of the newly-madehusband and wife. Zuleika had heard that Eugénie had been much courtedduring the period she was on the stage, that she had numbered her ardentadmirers by scores, but this man seemed too old, too forlorn, to haverecently been in a position to scatter wealth at the feet of a primadonna. Besides, Mlle. D' Armilly had spoken of him as a ghost and hadappeared to refer him to a period more remote. Zuleika had also heard ofMlle. Danglars' broken marriage-contract away back in the past. Couldthis beggar be the scoundrel who had masqueraded under the assumed titleof Prince Cavalcanti and had so nearly become her husband? Perhaps; buteven if he were that unscrupulous wretch, what harm could hisreappearance do at this late day, now that the old story had beenthoroughly sifted and almost forgotten? Albert was well aware of all thedetails of the Cavalcanti episode, and it was hardly likely thatanything further could be exposed that would disturb either him or hiswife. No, the grimy, white-haired, sinister-looking stranger could notbe the quondam Prince; he was some one else, some one more to be feared. But who was he, if not the miserable son of Villefort? Zuleika was moreperplexed and disturbed than she was willing to admit, even to herself. If she could only speak with the Count of Monte-Cristo, tell him all, some explanation of the mystery might, doubtless, be obtained, anexplanation that would, at least, calm her vague fears; but that wasimpossible; her promise to Mlle. D' Armilly to be silent sealed her lipsas effectually with her father as with young Madame de Morcerf. Whatevermight be her fears, she would have to bear them alone, or, at the best, share them with Mlle. D' Armilly, who, evidently, would give her nofurther satisfaction. 

Meanwhile the man who had caused all this trouble after having almostrun quite a distance along the Rue du Helder, utterly oblivious of theattention he drew to himself from the rare passers, turned into the RueTaitbout, thence reached the Rue de Provence and finally found himselfin the Cité d' Antin. There he made his way into a small drinking-shopor caboulot, patronized by some of the worst prowlers about that sectionof Paris. The room he entered was unoccupied save by a slatternly youngwoman, who sat behind the counter reading a greasy copy of the Gazettedes Tribunaux. The man went to the counter and, throwing down the price, demanded a glass of brandy, which he swallowed at a gulp. Then headdressed the slatternly young woman, who, with her paper still in onehand, was half-smiling, half-scowling at him. 

"Is Waldmann here?" he asked, with the air of a man who feels himselfthoroughly at home. 

"Yes, " answered the young woman, resuming her seat and her reading; "heis in the back room, playing piquet with Peppino, Beppo and Siebecker. "

"Good!" said the man. "I am in luck. I scarcely expected to find themall in at this hour. "

With this he opened a glazed door, and, stepping into the back room, closed it behind him. The players, who were seated at a table, with mugsof beer beside them, glanced up quickly from their game as he came in, and one of them, a heavy-framed, beetle-browed German, called out tohim, speaking French:

"How now, Bouche-de-Miel, what is the matter? You are out of breath andas pale as if you had been shadowed by an Agent de la Sureté!"

"I have not been shadowed, Waldmann, " answered the beggar orBouche-de-Miel, "but I have made a startling discovery. "

The players at once put down their cards and leaned forward to hear. They were a rough, desperate-looking set; on their ill-omened andsunburnt visages thief could be read as plainly as if it were writtenthere, and perhaps, also, the still more significant word, assassin! Twoof the men were Italians, evidently the Peppino and Beppo referred to bythe slatternly young woman at the counter in the outer room. BesidesWaldmann there was another German. This was Siebecker. Tall, slim, withyellow hair and moustache, he had some claim to good looks; his attirewas quite respectable compared to that of the rest; had he not possesseda pair of restless, demoniac eyes, he might have passed for a person oftolerably fair repute, but those glaring, tiger-like orbs betrayed histrue character and stamped him as a very dangerous member of thecriminal fraternity. Waldmann appeared to be the leader of the coterie. The Italians wore blue blouses, but the distinctive garment of theParisian workman could not conceal a certain brigandish air that wassecond nature to them. 

"Let's hear about your startling discovery, Bouche-de-Miel, " saidWaldmann. "Take a seat and tell us. "

The beggar dropped upon a wooden chest, saying, in a tone of deepdejection, as he did so:

"Much as I long to take a hand in to-night's little job, I'm afraidyou'll have to let me off!"

"Stuff!" cried Waldmann. "You are afraid of meeting that terriblefellow, the Count of Monte-Cristo! But the startling discovery--out withit, man!"

"Yes; the discovery, the discovery!" demanded the others, impatiently. 

"Well, " said Bouche-de-Miel, "I went to the Rue du Helder this morning, as agreed upon, and made a survey of Monte-Cristo's mansion. Nothingeasier than to get in, as no watch is kept at night, and the Count isnot in the least suspicious although he has millions of francs in hissafe, to say not a word of jewels and other valuables. As I was aboutleaving the premises, I stopped at a little gate giving access to thegarden from the street, having noticed that the key had been carelesslyleft in the lock on the outside. I was leaning against the gate, takinga wax impression of this key, which would assure us entrance withouttrouble, when, happening to glance through the grating into the garden, I saw two women; they had noticed me and seemed greatly frightened. Instantly I thrust my hand through the bars and asked for charity. Oneof the women summoned up sufficient courage to arise and approach me;she was about to give me some money, when suddenly she recognized me inspite of all the changes in my appearance. I also recognized her andhastened away as rapidly as I could. "

"Well, what of all this?" said Waldmann, calmly. "It amounts to nothingwhatever. "

"It amounts to so much that I cannot go with you to Monte-Cristo's houseand run the risk of meeting that woman!"

Waldmann gave vent to a loud laugh; the others smiled. 

"I never before heard of a Frenchman who was afraid to meet a woman!"said Siebecker, much amused. 

"I tell you I cannot go; you must let me off, " said Bouche-de-Miel, obstinately. 

"What!" cried Peppino. "Do you allow a woman to stand between you andyour vengeance against the Count of Monte-Cristo? Remember Luigi Vampa'sbill of fare!"

Bouche-de-Miel glared at the Italian savagely. 

"There is no need for me to remember it, " returned he, bitterly. "I havenever forgotten it. Neither have I forgotten your share in that infamousbusiness!" he added, between his teeth. 

"It was my duty to do as I was bidden!" retorted Peppino. 

"I will have my revenge on you yet!" muttered Bouche-de-Miel, menacingly. 

"We shall see!" answered the Italian, defiantly. 

Waldmann interposed and said, sternly:

"No quarreling! We are brothers and are united for mutual gain. Bouche-de-Miel, you must go with us to-night. I order you to go and willtake no excuse! Besides, if, as Peppino says, you have vengeance togratify against the Count of Monte-Cristo, the opportunity is tooprecious for you to neglect it! At any rate, go you shall! Where is thewax impression of the key?"

Bouche-de-Miel handed the German a small package which, he took fromhis pocket. Waldmann gave it to Siebecker, directing him to fashion akey in accordance with it. In the meantime the beggar had been thinking. His face showed that a fierce struggle was taking place in his mind, astruggle between fear and a burning desire for revenge. The latterultimately triumphed, and the beggar, rising from the chest, went to thetable, bringing his fist down upon it with a resounding blow. 

"I will accompany you, mates!" he said, with wildly flashing eyes and inan excited voice. "Monte-Cristo robbed me, ruined me and drove me intothe world a penniless vagrant! I will have my revenge!"

"Spoken like a hero!" said Waldmann, enthusiastically. "We will meet atthe little gate on the Rue du Helder at midnight. Siebecker will giveyou the key, Bouche-de-Miel, and you will open the gate. You need notfear recognition, even if you should meet the woman you have spoken offace to face, for you will be masked like the rest of us. If you areanxious about her safety, I will tell you now that we only wantMonte-Cristo's millions; we do not mean murder. "

"But what if murder should be necessary, if it cannot be avoided?"

Waldmann shrugged his shoulders. 

"Then we must protect ourselves, " he answered, phlegmatically. 

Thereupon the coterie of miscreants separated, to pass away the hours asbest they might, until the time for the brilliant stroke they meditatedarrived. 

CHAPTER XII. 

FATHER AND DAUGHTER. 

The Count of Monte-Cristo was in his study, pacing to and fro; he wasplunged in thought, and an expression indicative of deep concern wasupon his pale, but resolute countenance. Ever and anon he would pause infront of a small table on which was a telegraphic outfit for the sendingand receiving of messages, listening with close attention to the soundsgiven forth, for, although sound reading was not much practiced by thetelegraphers of that period, Monte-Cristo, who seemed to have all theaccomplishments of his own age and those of ages to come, was aproficient at it, as well as a remarkably rapid and correct operator. 

It was nearly midnight. The entire family in the mansion of the Rue duHelder had retired to rest, with the exception of its head, who hadremained up in response to a summons from Berlin to be ready to receivethe details of a secret meeting of a vast society of Prussian patriots, which would be sent to him in cipher by one of his most enthusiastic andactive agents for the promotion of the cause of universal human liberty. The intense heat that had prevailed all day had been but slightlymoderated by the advent of a close, sultry night; there was not thefaintest breeze in the heavy, oppressive air, and the blue sky, full ofstars and flooded with brilliant moonlight, was without a cloud. Thesilvery brightness poured in through the open windows of the study, soilluminating the apartment that the Count had extinguished his lamp. Fantastic shadows were projected on the floor by the book-cases andvarious articles of furniture, looking like gigantic and dwarfed shapesof demons and elfs and lending the scene a weird, supernatural aspect. Monte-Cristo walked amid these distorted shadows like some mastermagician communing with the dark, mysterious spirits that received hiscommands in silence and then vanished to execute them without questionor debate. 

The Count's thoughts were of a sombre nature; he was pondering over theproblem of French freedom, wondering how long the volatile, changefulnation with which he had cast his lot would retain the liberty acquiredby the revolution that had overturned Louis Philippe's throne and giventhe people power. He distrusted the events of the near future. Alreadythe Bonapartists were active and Louis Napoleon was looming up as aformidable figure. The nephew of the great conqueror of Europe professedrepublican sentiments, but Monte-Cristo doubted his sincerity as well ashis ability to govern the restless population of Paris. He foresawimitation of the famous Emperor; his prophetic eye pierced through LouisNapoleon's presidential aspirations and saw beyond them a second Empirenot less brilliant but not more substantial than the first. The policyof the Bonapartes was to dazzle the masses, the men of the barricades, by a show of grandeur and amuse rather than force them into submission. The Count had held aloof from Louis Napoleon, had even opposed him tothe full extent of his mighty influence; he had done so not from anypersonal considerations, but for the good of the entire French people, for the preservation intact of the fabric of freedom, the fruit of therevolution of 1848. 

Meanwhile, as these thoughts coursed through Monte-Cristo's activebrain, the telegraphic instrument went ticking steadily on, but theinformation he expected was not conveyed. News flashed to him from everycentre of political agitation save Berlin; there an obstinate, ominoussilence prevailed. Several times he sought to open communication withhis confederate in the Prussian capital, but his signals wereunanswered. At last he paused wearily in his walk, throwing himself in ahuge arm-chair; fatigue weighed upon his eyelids and he speedily sankinto an uneasy, broken sleep, from which he started at intervals, disturbed by some vague, disquieting dream. Ever and anon, as he dozed, that smile that made him so handsome would steal over his manlycountenance, bringing out into bold relief all his wonderful nobilityand benevolence of expression. 

As midnight struck in every clock-tower in Paris, the usual solitude ofthe Rue du Helder at that dead hour was broken by the appearance of asinister figure at the little gate of Monte-Cristo's garden. This figurewas almost instantly followed by another hardly less forbidding. Bothwore masks and moved as stealthily as cats. The second figure addressedthe first, speaking in a cautious whisper:

"Bouche-de-Miel, is that you?"

"Yes. Siebecker, have you the key?" muttered the other, scarcely abovehis breath. 

"Here it is, old man. Now to work. The others will be on hand in amoment. Open the gate and let us get in. "

Bouche-de-Miel took the key, which was covered with oil to preventgrating, and inserted it in the lock. It fitted to a charm and turnednoiselessly. Bouche-de-Miel gave the gate a gentle push; it yielded, swinging open without a sound. The two men passed inside, partiallyclosing it after them. The moonlight fell upon the seat that Zuleika andMlle. D' Armilly had occupied beneath the honey-suckle-covered arborthat morning; Bouche-de-Miel gave a sudden start as he glanced at it, half-repenting of having yielded to Waldmann's command under the impulseof his hatred for Monte-Cristo and his desire for revenge; he trembledviolently in spite of all his efforts to maintain composure and his facebecame one mass of sweat beneath his protecting mask. Siebecker noticedhis agitation and gave vent to a smothered curse. 

"Sacré nom d' un chien!" he muttered, between his teeth, "if you go onlike that, old man, it would have been better had Waldmann let you off. You can't do this job with an unsteady hand. Brace up, brace up, Bouche-de-Miel! What's that?"

There was a slight noise at the gate. Grasping his tremulous companionby the arm, Siebecker hurriedly drew him behind a clump of smallchestnut trees. No sooner were they hidden than three masked mencautiously opened the gate and came on tip-toe into the garden. Waldmann, Peppino and Beppo had arrived and were ready to do their shareof the nefarious work. Siebecker and Bouche-de-Miel silently emergedfrom their hiding-place and joined them. 

Waldmann glanced about him, evidently satisfied. 

"So far so good, " said he, in an undertone. "We are all here on time. Donot let us waste an instant. Have you steadied your nerves with plentyof brandy, Bouche-de-Miel?"

"I'm all right, " replied the latter, doggedly, though there was aperceptible quiver in his voice as he spoke. 

"He has just had another fit of fear, " said Siebecker, disdainfully. "Ithink we would do well to leave him with Peppino and Beppo to keep watchin the garden! It won't be safe to take him with us into the house, Waldmann!"

The leader went up to Bouche-de-Miel and gave him a rough shake. 

"You are a coward!" said he, savagely. "That woman story you told us wasall bosh. You are afraid of meeting Monte-Cristo, as I saw very plainlythis morning!"

This taunt stung Bouche-de-Miel to the quick and restored to him all hiscourage. He faced Waldmann unflinchingly and retorted:

"I am no coward and I am not afraid of Monte-Cristo!"

"Then what is the matter with, you?"

"That is my business, but it shan't damage this night's work. I will gowith you to the house and do my part as well as you or Siebecker. Yousaid not to waste an instant. What are you waiting for? Go on!"

"Do you swear to stand by us to the last whatever happens?"

"I swear it!"

"I will trust you. "

"And you will have no reason to repent of your trust. If I meetMonte-Cristo I will kill him as I would a mongrel cur! Does that satisfyyou?"

"How about your mysterious woman?"

Bouche-de-Miel could not repress a start, but he clenched his fistsfirmly and replied, with an effort:

"Never mind her! She must take care of herself!"

"Who is she?"

"Never mind her, I say! If harm comes to her it will be her own fault!"

Waldmann appeared reassured; nevertheless he whispered inBouche-de-Miel's ear with a terrible earnestness that plainly showed hemeant what he said:

"I told you I would trust you, and I will. But if you weaken, if youseek to act the traitor to save that woman, I will blow your brains outwhere you stand!"

Bouche-de-Miel shrugged his shoulders. 

"If I weaken, if I seek to betray you, shoot me on the spot! I give youleave! But if you use your pistol, it will be on other game than me! Letus to work!"

Leaving the two Italians on guard at the gate, Waldmann and Siebecker, with Bouche-de-Miel between them, went stealthily towards the house, walking on the grass that the sound of their footsteps might be muffled. They kept well in the shadows of the trees, reaching the rear of themansion unobserved and without incident. Waldmann removed his shoes andthe others followed his example. 

"Everything is silent, " he whispered. "No doubt all the members of thehousehold, including the redoubtable Count himself, are fast asleep. Weshall have an easy thing of it. "

He went upon the back porch and tried the door of the servants'quarters. It had been carelessly left unlocked. He opened it and peeredwithin. Only darkness and silence there. He beckoned to his comrades;they also came on the porch. Waldmann produced a dark lantern from underhis coat; the three robbers entered Monte-Cristo's house. 

"The Count's study where he keeps his money is on the second floor, "whispered Bouche-de-Miel. "We can reach it by going up the servants'stairway over there. "

He pointed across the small corridor in which they stood. Waldmanncautiously opened his lantern and the narrow thread of light that camefrom it revealed the stairway. The miscreants mounted it and, guided byBouche-de-Miel, who seemed to be thoroughly familiar with thetopography of the mansion, were soon in front of Monte-Cristo's study. The door was ajar. Bouche-de-Miel glanced in, but instantly withdrew hishead, motioning Waldmann and Siebecker to look. They did so, and saw aman asleep in an arm-chair; simultaneously a sharp click in the roomalarmed them; they clenched their teeth, set their lips firmly togetherand drew their pistols. The sharp click was repeated, followed in rapidsuccession by several others. It was the telegraphic instrument--thenews from Berlin had come!

Instantly the Count was wide awake. He leaped from his chair and ran tothe instrument, to the clicking of which he eagerly and intentlylistened. The vast society of Prussian patriots had met. The delegateshad been long in arriving, for, although the utmost secrecy had beenused, the royal police had got wind of their presence in the capital andof the proposed assemblage. Still, it was hoped that the meeting wouldnot be disturbed, as the rendezvous was in a secluded locality, ofwhich, it was thought, the authorities were not suspicious. Scarcely, however, had the president taken his seat when the police poured inthrough every door and window. All the patriots were arrested, saveMonte-Cristo's confederate, who by a lucky chance succeeded in deceivingthe myrmidons of the law. 

The Count's brow clouded as he heard this startling intelligence tickedoff by the telegraphic instrument. He put his hand to his forehead atthe conclusion of the ominous message and staggered like a drunken manback to his arm-chair, into which he sank. As he did so, Waldmann, Siebecker and Bouche-de-Miel, who immediately rushed forward, seized himand held him there with the strength of iron. Waldmann slipped a gaginto his mouth and Siebecker bound him firmly to the chair with a stoutcord he took from his pocket. The binding accomplished, the robbersquitted their hold of the Count and turned in search of the plunder theyhad come for--the millions of Monte-Cristo!

Suddenly there was a loud cry. It came from Bouche-de-Miel. The othersturned and looked at him, their pistols in their hands. He was staringat a white-robed woman, who stood like a ghost in the open doorway ofthe study. At that juncture another door opened and Ali, the faithfulNubian, followed by all the valets of the household, sprang into theroom, falling upon the bewildered scoundrels ere they had recovered fromtheir surprise. There was a brief struggle, but the servants wereunarmed, and the robbers, disengaging themselves from the clutches oftheir adversaries, kept them at bay with their pistols and slowly backedfrom the apartment. In the conflict, however, Bouche-de-Miel's mask wastorn from his face, and his countenance was no sooner visible than thewhite-robed woman ran towards him with outstretched arms, breathlesslyexclaiming:

"My father! my father!"

Bouche-de-Miel motioned her from him; then he moved as if to approachher, urged on by a feeling he was altogether unable to master; butWaldmann, still keeping his pistol pointed at Ali and his companions, seized him by the arm with a grip of iron and drew him away. The foiledrobbers succeeded in making their escape from the house, and the garden. 

The Count of Monte-Cristo had been unbound and ungagged by Ali when therobbers had left the study. Alarmed by the unwonted noise and commotion, Captain de Morcerf, Zuleika and Mlle. D' Armilly had appeared upon thescene, but too late to witness the conflict with the miscreants. In afew words the Count explained to them what had happened. Zuleika glancedat Mlle. D' Armilly as if she suspected that the strange beggar of thatmorning had something to do with this midnight invasion of their home;Louise looked uneasy and agitated, but preserved a stony silence. 

The white-robed woman still stood as if stupefied. Mlle. D' Armilly wentto her and asked, solicitously:

"Eugénie, what is the matter?"

This question aroused young Madame de Morcerf, for it was she, from herstupor. She threw herself into a chair and covered her face with herhands, moaning piteously:

"Oh! Louise! Louise! I have seen my father! He was one of the robbers!It is terrible, terrible!"

Captain de Morcerf, who had gone to his wife's side and tenderly takenher hand, gazed inquiringly at the Count. 

"I saw the man she speaks of perfectly, " said Monte-Cristo, in reply tohis look, "and he was certainly the Baron Danglars!"

CHAPTER XIII. 

MORCERF'S ADVENTURE. 

The Count of Monte-Cristo took no steps to have the miscreants who hadinvaded the sanctity of his home tracked and apprehended; he did noteven instruct the Commissary of Police of the quarter in regard to whathad happened. He was entirely satisfied that the sole aim of thewretches had been robbery, and, as that aim had been defeated, he didnot desire to court further publicity by putting the matter in the handsof the authorities. One thing, however, gave the Count considerableuneasiness, namely, the fact that Danglars had been one of the robbers. He did not doubt that the former banker, whom he had financially wreckedand forced to fly ignominiously from Paris in the past in pursuit of hisscheme of wholesale vengeance against the enemies of his youth, hadplanned the robbery in order to gratify his burning thirst for revenge;he also felt equally certain that Danglars meant further mischief, if hecould accomplish it, and that his presence in the city would be aconstant menace to his tranquillity and prosperity, nay, even to hisdomestic happiness; but his feelings had undergone a radical changesince the old days of restless, inexorable retribution, and he nowpitied the man he had so ruthlessly overthrown as much as he hadformerly hated him. Danglars had fallen very low, indeed, to be thecompanion and accomplice of midnight marauders, and the Count's verysoul ached as he thought to what depths of poverty and ignominy he hadbeen the means of reducing him. He would have sought him out amid thedangerous criminal population of Paris, traced him to his den ofdepravity and wretchedness, and offered him money and the means ofsocial rehabilitation had there been the slightest reason to hope thathe could thereby rescue the miserable man from the slough of iniquityinto which he was plunged, but he knew too well Danglars' implacablecharacter and deep-seated hatred against himself to attempt anything ofthe kind. Should he penetrate into his haunts and meet him the resultcould only be disastrous, for Danglars would take a fiendish delight inbetraying him to his desperate associates, who would not hesitate evento murder him at his bidding, and the former banker was fully capable ofcompassing his assassination in the most horrible fashion as a crowningstroke of diabolical revenge. There was a time when Monte-Cristo valuedlife very little, when he would gladly have accepted death as a welcomeavenue to endless rest and peace, but that time had passed; since thenhe had contracted ties that bound him to existence with insurmountablestrength; he had now a family, was surrounded by beings he tenderlyloved and cherished, beings for whom he must live and over whosedestinies he must closely watch. He was wedded to Mercédès, who lavishedupon him in her maturity all the wealth of overwhelming affection shehad showered upon him before the fateful conspiracy that had consignedhim as the sailor Dantès to the dark, noisome dungeon of the Château d'If and given her to the arms of Fernand, the Catalan. Haydée hadfluttered over the page of his stormy, agitated history, leaving himEspérance and Zuleika as reminders of a happy, but all too brief dream, an elfin vision of enchantment that had vanished as swiftly as it hadcome. But his son and daughter had twined themselves about the fibres ofhis heart as the clinging ivy twines about the shattered fragments ofsome grand and imposing ruin, and each day, each moment, as it sped by, only served the more to reveal to him the longings and the devotion of afather's soul. Besides, Albert de Morcerf and his young wife Eugéniewere now thoroughly endeared to him, and he felt that by doingeverything in his power to augment their happiness he was graduallypaying off the heavy debt he owed to Danglars' so long abandoned child. Yes, the Count of Monte-Cristo wished to live, first for his family, then for the great cause of human liberty with which he had become sothoroughly identified. If Danglars came in his way he would endeavor toreclaim and propitiate him, but he could not seek him out. 

Mercédès at the period of the attempted robbery was absent on a visit tosome friends in Marseilles, and by common consent it was resolved not toinform her of Danglars' reappearance, as the intelligence could not failto be a prostrating shock to her. 

Ever since that memorable midnight scene in Monte-Cristo's study youngMadame de Morcerf had acted like one overwhelmed. She said nothing, evento her husband or Louise d' Armilly, concerning her wretched father, butit was plain that intense grief and shame were preying upon her. Thisgreatly distressed Albert and, seeing his beloved wife droop day by day, he, without saying a word to any one, formed a startling and perilousresolution. He determined to find Danglars' abode, to see hisfather-in-law and endeavor to persuade him to relinquish his career ofcrime. In this he was actuated by two powerful motives--the desire torelieve Eugénie's distress and suspense and the wish to avoid thescandal that would be sure to come should the former banker be caughtred-handed in the commission of some fearful crime and a legalinvestigation reveal his identity. 

Zuleika studiously avoided referring to the attempted robbery and therecognition of Danglars by her father and Eugénie. She was aware of thepart Monte-Cristo had played in his enemy's fall and disgrace, and didnot deem it prudent to awaken the bitter recollections of the lurid anddreadful past. 

Mlle. D' Armilly also said nothing in reference to the reappearance ofDanglars, but it was very clear to the observant Zuleika that sheexpected and dreaded further harm from Monte-Cristo's revengeful enemy. At night she locked herself in her chamber, and, notwithstanding thealmost unbearable heat of the weather, securely closed and fastened allher windows. 

The Count himself was as reserved as ever, never once mentioning eitherthe midnight invasion of his mansion or the unexpected advent of hismost deadly foe. To everybody in the household he seemed either to haveforgotten or to have succeeded in dismissing from his mind those eventsso fraught with excitement and possibilities of future disaster. ButMonte-Cristo, though he preserved an impassible exterior, had neitherforgotten nor dismissed them. He had simply applied to himself his ownfamous maxim, "Wait and Hope. " He was waiting and hoping for the best, for God in His inscrutable wisdom to bring mysterious good out ofapparent evil. 

Meanwhile Captain de Morcerf had been busily engaged in making thoroughbut cautious investigations. He had formed the acquaintance of a formerAgent de la Sureté, who had been of great use to him in describing thevarious outlaws and prowlers of Paris, and in pointing out to him theirsecret dens and the secluded places of rendezvous where they met, drankvile liquors, and, under the maddening influence of absinthe andalcohol, plotted their crimes and atrocities of every description. Thisman, another Quasimodo in point of hideous aspect, had been dismissedfrom the detective service because of his inability to keep sober, buthe had not forgotten the resources of his profession, and money lavishlybestowed upon him made him Captain de Morcerf's most obedient andfaithful slave. Cash in hand rendered him indefatigable and the prospectof obtaining more kept him discreet. He had taught his employer the artof effectually disguising himself, of passing for a veritable zigue, and, as he was well-known to the desperadoes he had formerly shadowedand was welcomed by them as a sterling good fellow, he was enabled totake the Captain with impunity among scoundrels who would not havehesitated to cut his throat had they known who he was. 

As Albert did not know what name Danglars had assumed and was unwillingto give the ex-detective his true cognomen, the latter had nothing toguide him in this respect. Neither was the Captain cognizant of thechanges that time and his mode of life had wrought in the formerbanker's personal appearance, so he could only describe him as he hadlooked in the years gone by. This afforded Mange, such was the name ofthe dismissed policeman, no indication whatever by which he couldprofit. He, nevertheless, was not disconcerted by the paucity ofinformation. He knew that young Morcerf was searching for a man who hadbeen one of the party engaged in the attempt to rob the Monte-Cristomansion on the Rue du Helder, and that knowledge was sufficient for him. He very soon discovered that Waldmann, Siebecker, Bouche-de-Miel and twoItalians had formed that party, and Bouche-de-Miel being the onlyFrenchman in the coterie he had no difficulty whatever in fixing uponhim as the individual wanted. He imparted his discovery and conclusionto his employer, together with the intelligence that the men were in thehabit of congregating in the little caboulot of the Cité d' Antin. Albert rewarded Mange liberally for his zeal and promised him a verymuch larger sum should Bouche-de-Miel turn out to be his man. It wasimmediately arranged that Mange should conduct the Captain to thecaboulot that very night and, if possible, bring him face to face withthe Frenchman supposed to be Danglars. 

In accordance with this agreement, as soon as night had fallen, Mangewas waiting for his employer at the corner of the Rue Taitbout and theRue de Provence. He was not kept long at his post, for Albert speedilymade his appearance, dressed in a blouse like a workman; his roughtrousers were tucked in the tops of his dusty boots and on his head hewore a battered slouch hat that looked as if it might have seen servicebehind the revolutionary barricades. Mange surveyed him with a longglance of admiration; then taking him to a neighboring street lamp, hecritically examined his face, which was stained to represent thebronzing effect of the sun and smeared with dirt. 

"Capital!" exclaimed the ex-detective, as he finished his scrutiny. "Youare a zigue out and out! Not a trace of the boulevardier to be seen! Themost keen-scented vache in the caboulot would be completely deceived!"

Albert smiled at his companion's enthusiasm. 

"Well, as I pass examination, " he said, "let us go on at once. Do youthink our man will be at the caboulot?"

"Do I think water will run down hill!" cried Mange, with a laugh thatresembled nothing so much as the discordant croak of a crow. "He nevermisses a night, and this is the hour when the brandy begins to flow!"

Albert shuddered at this remark, suggesting as it did the certainty thathe would find Eugénie's father a sot as well as a thief. He, however, took Mange's arm and together they strolled leisurely into the Cité d'Antin, making their way to the caboulot without meeting a singlesuspicious prowler. 

They entered the front room where Bouche-de-Miel had found theslatternly young woman reading her greasy copy of the Gazette desTribunaux on the morning preceding the attempted robbery. She was at heraccustomed place behind the counter, but was not reading; eight or tenstalwart ruffians monopolized her attention and, as she furnished herthirsty customers with the various fiery beverages they demanded, sheshowered her most captivating glances right and left among them. She wasas slatternly as ever, but her hair was shining with bear's grease and astrong odor of musk pervaded her garments; a paste diamond of enormoussize but of doubtful brilliancy ornamented her breastpin and on herstumpy, grimy fingers were numerous brass rings containing dullimitations of rubies, amethysts and topazes. 

As the new comers came in, Waldmann, standing in front of the counterwith a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other, was chaffing her. 

"See here, Beurre-Sans-Sel, " he said, with a well-counterfeited air ofintense admiration, "you are looking like a real beauty to-night. I willwager anything you expect a lover. I never saw you put on such stylebefore. I declare you far outshine the demoiselles of the public balls!"

"Oh! Monsieur Waldmann, how you talk!" returned the girl, with anaffected simper and an unsuccessful attempt to blush. 

Just then the German looked around and caught sight of Mange, who waslooking his ugliest. The spirit of mischief was strong upon him and heinstantly cried out:

"I knew it; I knew you were expecting a lover and here he is promptly ontime! Come now own up, my little Beurre-Sans-Sel, did you not put on allyour pretty fixings for Mange?"

"For that ugly old gorilla!" exclaimed the girl, unceremoniously anddisdainfully. "I can get better-looking lovers than either a monkey or aSwab, I'd have you to know, Monsieur Waldmann!"

There was a general laugh at this sally, and none laughed louder thanMange, who had a taste for coarse jokes and sharp retorts. 

"So!" said Waldmann, after the merriment had subsided. Then he perceivedMange's companion for the first time. He examined him closely andsuspiciously. Albert did not shrink from his scrutiny, but theex-detective deemed it prudent to set matters right at the start by aformal introduction of his employer; he, therefore, motioned to Albertto follow him and walked up to the German, offering him his hand, whichthe latter shook cordially. 

The Captain now stood beside Waldmann in front of the counter and Mangepresented him without delay. 

"Monsieur Waldmann, " said he, "permit me to make you acquainted with myfriend Fouquier, from Dijon, a bon zigue. "

"Monsieur Fouquier, " said the German, taking Albert's outstretched hand, "I am glad to know you, especially as you come so well recommended. "

Mange bowed in acknowledgment of this little tribute to himself. 

Morcerf replied that the pleasure was mutual. 

Waldmann's suspicions seemed to be allayed. 

"Take something, " he said. "Here, Siebecker and Bouche-de-Miel, join usin drinking the health of Monsieur Fouquier from Dijon!"

Albert was instantly on the alert and Mange watched him attentively asthe two individuals named emerged from a corner of the room and loungedup to the counter. There was another presentation, a double one thistime, Waldmann doing the honors. Mange required no introduction. Everybody appeared to know him. Beurre-Sans-Sel put forth brandy andglasses, and the health of Monsieur Fouquier was drunk enthusiastically. When this ceremony ended Morcerf called for cigarettes and distributedthem among the coterie; then he had leisure to examine Bouche-de-Miel;the latter had turned his back to the counter and leaned his elbows uponit; in this position, with his cigarette between his teeth, he lookedthe perfect picture of vagabondish idleness. Mange was still watchingMorcerf, but saw no sign that he had recognized in Bouche-de-Miel theman for whom he was seeking. This made him uneasy, for it was anindication that the reward his employer had promised him would not beearned. 

Presently Waldmann and Siebecker were called to another part of theroom. Bouche-de-Miel remained, continuing to smoke his cigarette, withhis elbows on the counter where he had placed them after thehealth-drinking. The Captain's thoughts were of a conflicting nature. Everything pointed to the fact that the man before him was hisfather-in-law, but, unlike Mlle. D' Armilly, he saw nothing in himsuggestive of the Baron Danglars of other days. Could this vagabond, this wretch, be Danglars? If so, how was it to be proved to hissatisfaction? How, above all, in this place, in this den of thieves andcutthroats? The man was certainly the party Eugénie had recognized onthe night of the attempted burglary as her father, the partyMonte-Cristo himself had so positively pronounced to be the formerbanker. But was it not probable that his wife and the Count had beenmistaken? Was it not probable that they had been deceived by somefancied resemblance when excitement had possessed them to such a degreethat it had deprived them of the full use of their mental faculties? Atany rate he had come to the caboulot to experiment with Bouche-de-Mieland he would not shrink from cautiously applying the test. 

Their cigarettes were now consumed. Albert, in pursuance of his scheme, invited Bouche-de-Miel and Mange to take seats at a table and have somemore brandy. They accepted the invitation with alacrity, and the threewere soon drinking and chatting. Repeated potations finally openedBouche-de-Miel's lips; he began to be confidential. 

"You may not believe me, messieurs, " said he, "but I was not always asyou see me now!"

Mange winked triumphantly at his employer. Revelations which might beimportant were coming. Perhaps he would yet earn the promised reward. Morcerf was listening attentively. 

"No, sacré nom d' un chien, I was not always a zigue! Once I had immensewealth, I counted my money by millions! I had position, too, and I maysay without egotism that I was honored by the best people of Paris!"

He paused and drained another glass of brandy. 

"What were you?" asked Mange. 

Albert waited breathlessly for the answer to this question. 

"What was I?" repeated Bouche-de-Miel. "You may laugh, but I was abanker!"

Morcerf could not avoid giving a start. The vagabond, half-drunk as hewas, noticed it and asked:

"What is the matter with you, Fouquier? Do you think the lie sotremendous that you can't keep still?"

The young man was glad to accept this interpretation of his behavior; hetouched his glass to his lips and said, with a forced smile:

"Well, I do think you are going it rather strong!"

"Not half strong enough, mon Dieu!" cried Bouche-de-Miel, bringing hisfist down on the table with such force that the glasses were nearlyknocked off. "Not half strong enough, I tell you, messieurs, for I wasa Baron as well as a banker!"

Albert groaned. Mange looked at him with sparkling eyes; he was now surethat the promised money was within his reach, that his clutch would soonclose on it. His enforced sobriety since he had been in the Captain'semploy made him anxious for a prolonged, reckless spree, frightfullyanxious, and his guarded potations since he entered the caboulot hadwhetted his devouring appetite for alcohol to such an extent that hecould scarcely keep it in subjection with the plentiful supply of brandyon the table, almost at his very lips. 

Bouche-de-Miel did not hear Morcerf's groan; his misty eyes were fixedupon space, seemed to be peering into the depths and recesses of thedistant past. The Captain judged that the time had come to draw thefinal, the crowning admission from his lips. He touched him lightly onthe arm. The man turned and glanced at him inquiringly. Morcerf's heartbeat wildly; it was with great difficulty that he kept his agitationunder control. He hurriedly scanned the other occupants of theroom--some were very drunk and stupid, others noisy and demonstrative, but all were too busy with their own concerns and pleasures to pay eventhe slightest attention to the little party at the table; Waldmann andSiebecker were asleep on opposite ends of a bench in a corner. Bouche-de-Miel had meanwhile relapsed into his misty reverie. Alberttouched his arm again. 

"Don't bother me!" said the man, impatiently, without removing his eyesfrom space. "Can't you let a fellow dream!"

"Baron Danglars!" whispered Morcerf in his ear. 

"Eh? What?" cried Bouche-de-Miel, coming back to reality with a start, half-sobered by hearing this name. 

"Baron Danglars, " repeated the Captain, in a guarded undertone, "I knowyou!"

The man got upon his feet lumberingly and unsteadily; he clutchedAlbert's shoulder convulsively. 

"You are an Agent de la Sureté!" he hissed. "You have come here toarrest me!"

The attention of some of the less intoxicated ruffians was being excitedby Bouche-de-Miel's behavior, but their ears had failed to seize hiswords amid the prevailing din. Mange, with his usual keenness andquickness, saw that something must instantly be done to quiet Albert'scompanion or all the miscreants who could stir would be aroused and comethronging about them to throttle the supposed Agent de la Sureté. He, therefore, gave a loud laugh and said to Bouche-de-Miel:

"Don't be a fool, old man! Monsieur Fouquier belong to la rousse! That'sa good joke! ha! ha! Why he is as much in danger of the violon as youare! ha! ha!"

He arose, still laughing, and, playfully taking Bouche-de-Miel by thecollar, gently forced him back into his chair. As he did so, he glancedat Beurre-Sans-Sel. The slatternly young woman had her hand on the screwof the huge lamp suspended above the counter, by which alone the roomwas lighted, ready to turn it out and leave the whole place in darknessat the first alarm. She was evidently accustomed to police descents andknew how to act in such cases. Mange's words and merriment, however, reassured her and she withdrew her fingers from the screw. 

But Bouche-de-Miel was not altogether satisfied. He sat uneasily in hischair, facing Morcerf and anxiously scanning his countenance. 

"What did you mean by calling me Baron Danglars and saying that you knewme?" he asked, in a low, somewhat tremulous voice. 

Instead of replying directly to this question, the young man said, slowly and in a half-whisper:

"I am Albert de Morcerf, the husband of your daughter Eugénie!"

"What!" exclaimed Bouche-de-Miel. "Eugénie married--and to you!"

"Yes, " said the Captain, "Fate has again brought us together after along and painful separation. "

"I saw Eugénie in the house of the Count of Monte-Cristo, no matter how, no matter when. What was she doing there?"

"Monte-Cristo is married to my mother, Mercédès, and we are living withhim. "

"Living with him--Eugénie, my daughter, living beneath the roof of theman who ruined her father and made him what he is!"

Bouche-de-Miel grew absolutely livid with rage; he was entirely soberednow and all his evil instincts had full possession of him. 

"I will never forgive her--or you!" he hissed. 

"Listen to me, " said Albert, with comparative calmness. "I have comehere to-night at the risk of my life to offer you money, the means ofrehabilitation. Be advised. Leave these miscreants with whom you areassociated and become a man again!"

"I reject both your offer and advice!" said Bouche-de-Miel, excitedly. "They are insults, coming as they do from the stepson of Monte-Cristo, my relentless enemy! But I will have vengeance upon you for them andthrough you on Edmond Dantès! Ho, Waldmann Siebecker!"

The two Germans awoke, sprang from their bench and advanced towards thetable. 

Mange uttered a groan of despair. He could do nothing now to avert theimpending danger. 

Bouche-de-Miel had leaped to his feet and grappled with Albert deMorcerf. Waldmann and Siebecker, realizing that something was wrong andat once connecting the alleged Monsieur Fouquier with it, drew long, keen-bladed knives as they rushed forward. 

All the thieves and marauders who were sober enough to stand were now ontheir feet, ready to hurl themselves upon the suspected man. Weaponsflashed in every direction--daggers, knives and pistols. Loud oaths andabusive epithets were heard on all sides; it was a perfect pandemonium, a babel of evil sounds. 

Amid all the confusion and danger Mange's self-possession did not deserthim. Seeing that it was useless to attempt to pacify the surging pack ofdesperadoes, he determined upon a bold measure, one that would enablehim to save Captain de Morcerf and, at the same time, keep up hisreputation with the criminal frequenters of the caboulot, with whom hedesired for reasons of his own to be on good terms. He ran to thecounter, where Beurre-Sans-Sel already had her hand on the screw of thehanging lamp, waiting for events to decide what action she should take. He leaned over the counter and whispered to the girl:

"Beurre-Sans-Sel, I was deceived in Monsieur Fouquier. He imposed uponme. He told me he was from Dijon. He turns out to be a Parisian and anAgent de la Sureté. He has betrayed himself. More Agents are coming!They will be here in a moment! Put off the light!"

The girl did not hesitate a second; she gave the screw a quick twist andthe caboulot was instantly as dark as a tomb. 

Having executed this manoeuvre, Mange sprang to Albert de Morcerf'sside, striking Bouche-de-Miel a crushing blow in the face that causedhim to lose his grip of the young man. Then, seizing his employer in hisbrawny arms, he lifted him as if he had been a child and ran with him tothe front door; this he opened, leaping into the street with his burden. 

"Now run for your life!" he exclaimed, depositing the young man on thesidewalk. 

With this he started off at a tearing pace, closely followed by Morcerf. They did not pause until they had reached the Rue de Provence, where, inthe blaze of the lights, amid the throngs of honest citizens, they weresafe. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

ZULEIKA AND MME. MORREL. 

Quite a long time had elapsed since the sudden departure of the ViscountMassetti from Paris, but Zuleika was still in complete ignorance as tohis whereabouts and actions. He was in Rome, of that she had not theslightest doubt. She was equally convinced that his errand there was toestablish his innocence of the terrible crime imputed to him by LuigiVampa, to obtain proofs that would clear him in the eves of her fatherand herself, if not of all the world. Why, therefore, did he not write, why did he not give her some sign that she would understand? His silencediscouraged the young girl, filled her with uneasiness. It seemed toindicate that he had not succeeded, had not been able to wipe the stainfrom his record. If so she would never see him again, for Giovanni wastoo proud to reappear in her presence with a dishonored name, a sulliedreputation. This thought was torture, and Monte-Cristo's daughter feltthat should her lover desert her she could not live. 

As the days rolled by without a word of intelligence from the Viscount, Zuleika's fears assumed greater consistency and weight. She grew sad, inexpressibly sad; her look lost its brightness, her voice its cheerytone and her step its elasticity. The bloom faded from her youthfulcheeks, giving place to an ashen pallor. She was no longer interested inher accustomed occupations and amusements, and would sit for hourstogether with her hands crossed in her lap, dominated by sorrowful anddismal forebodings. 

Mercédès noticed her condition, and, ascribing it to its proper cause, strove in a motherly way to rouse and console her, but without effect. She spoke to the Count about it, begging him to use his influence tocheer his child, but Monte-Cristo only shook his head, saying that theymust trust to the soothing power of time which could not fail ultimatelyto do its work. Espérance pitied his sister sincerely, but refrainedfrom interfering, well knowing that nothing he could say would beproductive of good. Albert de Morcerf, his wife and Mlle. D' Armilly, who had learned of Zuleika's love affair and the dark shadow that hadfallen upon it, felt a delicacy about alluding to the matter and, therefore, held aloof; besides, they were too much depressed by thecircumstances under which Danglars had reappeared to be able to exert acheering influence. 

When Mercédès returned from Marseilles she was accompanied by Maximilianand Valentine Morrel, who immediately went to the mansion on the Rue duHelder and paid their respects to the Count of Monte-Cristo, theirbenefactor. It was their intention to make only a brief call, taking uptheir residence during their sojourn in Paris at that famousstopping-place for strangers, the Grand Hôtel du Louvre on the Rue deRivoli adjoining the Palais Royal, but Monte-Cristo would not hear ofsuch a thing, insisting that the young soldier and his wife should behis guests and partake of his hospitality. They were not reluctant toconsent to this agreeable arrangement, as it would enable them to enjoyuninterruptedly the society of their dearest friends. 

Mme. Morrel at once took a deep interest in Zuleika. She saw that somesorrow was heavily weighing on the young girl, and, rightly diviningthat the tender passion had much to do with it, immediately endeavoredto inspire her with a degree of confidence sufficient to bring aboutrevelations. In this Mme. Morrel was not actuated by curiosity. Hermotive was altogether laudable; she desired to serve the Count ofMonte-Cristo, to do something to show her gratitude for the overwhelmingbenefits he had in the past showered upon her husband and herself, andcould conceive no better or more effectual way than by striving torelieve Zuleika. She, therefore, promptly set about her praiseworthy butdifficult task, resolved to bring back the roses to the young girl'scheeks and restore hope to her sad and dejected heart. 

She began by using every womanly art to induce Zuleika to love her andlook upon her as a friend of friends. In this initial step she succeededeven beyond her most ardent anticipations. From the first Monte-Cristo'sdaughter was attracted towards her, and it required very little efforton Mme. Morrel's part to win her completely. Valentine's dispositionwas so sweet and her sympathy so sincere that Zuleika could not helploving her; besides, the romantic story of her love for Maximilian andthe terrible trials she had undergone before being united to him throughMonte-Cristo's potent influence, with which she was thoroughlyacquainted, predisposed Giovanni's betrothed to regard her as a woman towhom she could open her heart and from whom she might derive supremesolace, if not consolation. Valentine's quick and penetrating eyes readthe young girl like the pages of an open book, and she was not slow inutilizing the advantages she acquired. 

Things had been going on in this way for several days, when one eveningMme. Morrel proposed a promenade in the garden to Zuleika with a view ofbringing matters to a crisis. She gladly acquiesced in the propositionand soon they were strolling in the moonlight amid the fragrant flowersand centenarian trees. It was a sultry night, but there was a pleasantbreeze that agreeably fanned the cheeks of Valentine and her youthfulcompanion. Mme. Morrel had matured her plan, but Zuleika herselfunexpectedly came to her aid, assisting her to put it into immediate andpractical execution. 

After walking for a short space, they seated themselves in a magnificentpavilion or summer-house situated at the extremity of the garden. It wasbuilt of white stone, the walls being perforated by several tallarchways that supplied the place of both windows and doors. Ivy andother clustering vines clambered about the exterior, creeping throughthe archways and furnishing the ceiling with a verdant canopyexceedingly inviting and refreshing to the eye weary of contemplatingthe dust and dryness of the streets parched by the summer sun. Withoutwere several great silver maple trees and numerous ornamental shrubs. Mme. Morrel drew close to Zuleika on the rustic bench they occupied and, taking the young girl's hand, said to her, in a soft voice:

"This is a delicious spot, my child. "

"Yes, " replied Monte-Cristo's daughter, "it is, indeed, delicious. Whenhere, I always feel as if I could pour out my whole heart into the bosomof some faithful friend. "

"Do so in this instance, my dear, " said Mme. Morrel, persuasively. "Itrust I am a faithful friend, as well as a discreet one. "

"I believe you, " rejoined Zuleika. "Ever since you have been in ourhouse I have felt so and longed to make you my confidante, but I havehesitated to take such a step, fearing to burden you with troubles thatmight distress you. "

"Have no further fears on that score then, but speak freely and with thecertainty that in your sorrows, whatever they may be, you will find me asincere sympathizer and comforter. "

Zuleika took Valentine's hand, and, gazing into her face with tearfuleyes, said:

"You have noticed that I had sorrows, Mme. Morrel?"

"Yes; how could I help it? But I have done more; I have divined theircause!"

Zuleika gave a slight start. 

"Divined their cause, Mme. Morrel?"

"Yes, " answered Valentine. "You are in love!"

The young girl blushed, but appeared relieved. Mme. Morrel had divinedher love, had divined that her sorrows arose from it, but she had notdivined the nature of the shadow that clouded her budding life andfilled her with grief and apprehension. 

"Zuleika, " continued Valentine, with the utmost tenderness andconsideration, "I, too, have loved, deeply and desperately; I, too, havefelt all the bitter pangs that arise from separation; but I haverealized my dream at last, and the shadows that surrounded me have beenswept away by the blessed sunshine of union and happiness. Confide inme, my child. If I cannot drive your shadows from you, I can at leastgive you true sympathy and the consolation that it affords. "

"They will be welcome to me, unspeakably welcome, madame, " repliedZuleika, tremulously. 

"Then tell me all. "

"I cannot, madame; I have no right to; but I can tell you enough towring your heart, to show you how unfortunate I am. "

"My poor girl, I understand and appreciate your scruples. You do notwish to compromise your lover, and you are right. Your decision does youhonor. Is the man you love in Paris?"

"Alas! no. I believe he is in Rome. "

"Then you do not know his whereabouts with certainty?"

"No, madame. "

"Does your father disapprove of his suit?"

"He did not at the outset, but very painful circumstances have sincearisen, causing him to alter his determination, or, at least, hold hisconsent in abeyance. Still, I think, he believes Giovanni can and willrefute the dreadful charge that has been made against him. "

"Giovanni? Your lover is then an Italian?"

"Yes, the Viscount Giovanni Massetti. "

"You became acquainted with him here in Paris?"

"No, madame; in Rome. "

"And you think he has gone thither to clear himself of the charge youmention?"

"Yes, madame. He came to Paris to solicit my hand, but suddenlydisappeared after the terrible charge was made. I have not heard fromhim since and his silence weighs upon me like lead. "

"I do not wonder at it; but, perhaps, after all, he is only waiting fora complete vindication and does not wish to write until he haseverything satisfactorily arranged. I do not ask you the nature of thecharge, Zuleika, and would not allow you to state it to me even if youwere so disposed. But answer me one question. You have entire faith inGiovanni's innocence, have you not?"

"I have, madame. "

"You are sure he loves you, that he has not trifled with youraffections?"

"I am sure, madame. "

"He is young, is he not?"

"Yes, madame, he is young. "

"Doubtlessly his fault, whatever it may have been, was simply anindiscretion due to his years that has been magnified and made to assumeunwarranted proportions by the tongues of envy and scandal. If so, hewill repair it and return to you. If he is altogether innocent, as youfeel convinced, he will move heaven and earth to justify himself in yourfather's eyes and yours. Love is potent, Zuleika, and will accomplishmiracles. Trust Giovanni and trust Heaven! All will yet be made rightbetween your lover and yourself!"

"Would that I could feel so, madame, but I cannot!"

"And why, pray?"

"Because Giovanni evidently has powerful enemies in Rome and itsvicinity who, no doubt, are at this moment operating against him andusing all their efforts to prevent him from succeeding in his mission. "

"What makes you think he has such remorseless enemies?"

"A letter my father received from Rome in response to inquiries he madeand the illusion--it must be an illusion--under which my brotherEspérance labors in regard to Giovanni. "

"Your brother Espérance! Then he believes in young Massetti's guilt?"

"Alas! yes; he firmly believes in it and stigmatizes the Viscount as theworst of scoundrels. "

"Has he given you the reasons for his belief, has he stated them to yourfather?"

"He has dealt only in vague, mysterious allusions; an oath of silence, it appears, prevents him from speaking out. "

"An oath of silence?"

"Yes, and Giovanni is also likewise bound. "

"Indeed! What is your lover's reputation in Rome?"

"Of the very best; he is there regarded as the soul of honor. "

"Save by his enemies. So far so good. Do you know the standing of hisfamily?"

"It is one of the oldest, most respected, most aristocratic andwealthiest in the Eternal City. "

"Another strong point in the young man's favor. Zuleika, I am satisfiedthat the mystery surrounding your lover can be cleared away; but I amalso satisfied that he needs assistance, the assistance of personsdeeply interested in you, who have your welfare at heart and cherishyour happiness as their own. "

"But such persons cannot be found, madame. Of course my father andbrother are deeply interested in me, have my welfare at heart and desireto see me happy. They, however, are not disposed to aid Giovanni, mybrother for reasons of his own and my father because he thinks that theViscount should work his own rehabilitation. No, madame, such persons asyou mention cannot be found. "

"They can be found, Zuleika, and you will not have far to look for themeither!"

Mme. Morrel gazed at Monte-Cristo's daughter with enthusiasm in her fineeyes. The girl was at a loss to understand her. 

"Surely you do not mean Albert de Morcerf and Eugénie?" she said. 

"No, " replied Valentine. "They love you, undoubtedly, but the needfulassistance is not to be obtained from them. "

"Certainly you cannot allude to Mlle. D' Armilly or Ali, my father'sdevoted Nubian servant?"

"No, I do not allude to them!"

"Whom then do you mean?"

"Cannot you guess, Zuleika?"

A sudden thought came to Zuleika, filling her with intense amazement. 

"You cannot mean yourself and your husband, Mme. Morrel?" she gasped. 

"And why not, my child?" answered Valentine, sweetly. "All theassistance we can render you will be but a weak, inadequate return forwhat your father has done for us. He saved me from death, withdrew thesuicidal pistol from Maximilian's hand, comforted us in our time ofdarkest despair, and finally brought us together after a separation thateven M. Morrel deemed eternal, simultaneously placing in our handswealth sufficient to make us altogether independent of the accidents anddisasters of this world. Besides, before that he was the benefactor ofM. Morrel's father, saving him also from suicide, suicide that he haddetermined upon as the only means of avoiding terrible disgrace. Yousee, Zuleika, that we have abundant motives for aiding you. "

"Oh! madame--Valentine--you utterly overwhelm me! How can I show mygratitude to you?"

"By accepting my offer!"

These words were accompanied by a look of ineffable tenderness andsincerity. They instantly brought hope to Zuleika's heart. She burstinto a flood of tears, but they were tears of joy. Still, she hesitated. What would her father say if she accepted Mme. Morrel's generousproposition?

"Do you accept, Zuleika?" pursued Mme. Morrel. 

"I thank you from the depths of my soul, madame; but I cannot accept thesacrifice you and your kind, manly husband would make for me! My fatherwould censure me, would never forgive me for adopting such a selfishcourse!"

"Trust your father to me, my child. "

"Oh! madame! Accept your offer without consulting him?"

"There is no need to consult him, there is no need for him to knowanything whatever about the matter, for the present at least. It will betime enough to tell him what we have done when success has crowned ourefforts. Should we unhappily fail, a thought that I cannot for aninstant entertain, there will be no occasion to tell him anything atall. "

At that moment a man's voice was heard calling at a distance:

"Valentine, Valentine, where are you?"

"It is Maximilian, " said Mme. Morrel to Zuleika. "He comes veryopportunely!" Then raising her voice she answered him: "Here, Maximilian, here, in the summer pavilion at the extremity of thegarden!"

The husband hastened to the spot, and Valentine, making him seathimself beside her and Monte-Cristo's daughter, told him all she hadjust learned. She also communicated to him the offer she had made toZuleika, adding:

"You will consent to it, I know, Maximilian!"

"Gladly, " answered the young soldier. "Had you not made the proposal, Ishould have made it myself!"

"Then we have but to induce Zuleika to authorize us to act. The poorchild, however, hesitates, fearing the Count's displeasure. "

"She need not authorize us, " said Maximilian quickly. "We will assumethe entire responsibility on the step! But it will be necessary for herto confide in us more fully, to give us the data upon which to build ourplans. I will get letters of introduction to the Viscount Massetti and, once acquainted with him, the rest will be easy. "

Later that night Zuleika told Mme. Morrel everything without reserve, even giving her a little note to Giovanni which stated that Valentineand Maximilian were her dearest friends and had come to Rome expresslyto aid him in his troubles. 

A week after the momentous interview in the pavilion M. And Mme. Morrelset out for Italy, informing their friends in the mansion on the Rue duHelder that they intended being absent some time, but refraining fromgiving even the slightest hint of the object of their journey. 

CHAPTER XV. 

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 

One morning shortly after the departure of the Morrels for Rome, theCount of Monte-Cristo was driving along the Champs-Elysées in hiselegant barouche drawn by a pair of spirited, blooded bays, when, nearthe Rond-point, his progress was suddenly checked by a great, tumultuousconcourse of people. Leaning from his carriage, he asked a workman thecause of the unwonted commotion and was informed that two Italians hadbeen arrested for theft and were being taken to the poste of the quarterby a couple of gardiens de la paix. He thought nothing of thecircumstance and was calmly waiting for an opportunity to proceed whenthe crowd about the barouche opened and the officers appeared with theircaptives. The Count was not much interested, but, nevertheless, bestoweda passing glance upon the malefactors, who were loudly protesting theirinnocence in broken, almost unintelligible French, and offering a stoutresistance. They were roughly attired in blue blouses, wearing felt hatsthat were pulled down and obscured their countenances. One of the men incustody caught hold of a spoke of a wheel of Monte-Cristo's vehicle, grasping it with such iron firmness that all the efforts of thepoliceman in charge of him failed to shake off his clutch. The Countordered Ali, who was acting as coachman, to hand him the reins, dismountand assist the gardien. 

At the sound of his voice, the man who had grasped the spoke looked upwith a start and, without relaxing his hold, cried out in Italian:

"Say a word for me, your Excellency! The Count of Monte-Cristo shouldhave as much power over the myrmidons of the French law as over LuigiVampa and his band!"

This exclamation amazed and startled the Count, so strange and unlookedfor was it. He gazed penetratingly at the malefactor who had uttered it, but his scrutiny was unrewarded by recognition. 

"Who are you?" he asked, as soon as his amazement permitted him tospeak, also making use of the Italian language. "You are a perfectstranger to me, yet you know my name and seem acquainted with some of myactions in the past. Who are you?"

"I am Peppino, " answered the man, without taking his eyes from theCount. "My companion who is being dragged away yonder is Beppo. "

"Peppino?--Beppo?" said the Count, musingly. "Surely I have heard thosenames before, but they are common in Italy, especially in Rome, and Ihave been there frequently. Be more explicit, man. "

"I will, " replied the Italian. "I am the Peppino who served you so wellwhen Luigi Vampa held the French banker, Danglars, in captivity at yourbehest. As for Beppo, you cannot have forgotten him; he also was amember of Vampa's band at that period. "

"Yes, " said Monte-Cristo, "I remember both of you now, but what can Ido for you? Paris is vastly different from Rome, and my influence withthe French police is not by any means equal to that I wielded over Vampaand his brigands at the time you speak of. "

"The Count of Monte-Cristo's power is unbounded anywhere in the entireworld, " rejoined the man, his brightened visage showing clearly theextent of his faith. "A word from him will release both Beppo andmyself. Speak that word, your Excellency, and set us free!"

Ali had refrained from interfering when he heard this singularconversation, which he fully understood. He was waiting for furtherorders from his master. 

The policeman grew impatient and, giving the Italian a rough shake, saidto him:

"Come now, let go that spoke and submit. Don't you see that you aredisturbing the Count of Monte-Cristo? His Excellency will do nothing forsuch a scoundrel as you. Come, let go that spoke, I say!"

Peppino, however, would not obey and continued to supplicate the Countto interfere in behalf of Beppo and himself. At last, driven todesperation by Monte-Cristo's inaction, he cried out to him:

"If your Excellency will do nothing for us without recompense, I willgive that recompense; I will tell you in exchange for your efforts inour behalf all I know concerning the black conspiracy against theViscount Giovanni Massetti!"

The Count was visibly moved by this speech. He stared at Peppino as ifhe thought that he had not heard aright. 

"The Viscount Giovanni Massetti! A black conspiracy against him! What doyou mean?" he inquired, quickly. 

"Just what I say, your Excellency, " answered the Italian. "I know thatthe Viscount visited the Palazzo Costi in Rome when you inhabited itwith your family, and that he fell in love with your daughter. I alsoknow the details of a plot by which a network of crushing circumstanceshas been woven about him with the view of burying him beneath a weightof shame, dishonor and even of crime! I can reveal those details andwill do so if you aid my companion and myself in our present difficulty. Do I interest you, Signor Count?"

"Vastly, " answered Monte-Cristo, his face assuming a serious look. "Goquietly with the gardien to the poste. I will follow immediately and seewhat can be done. "

"Yes, your Excellency, " said Peppino, submissively, and abandoning hisgrasp of the spoke he allowed the policeman to bear him away withoutfurther trouble. Meanwhile Beppo and the officer in whose custody he washad disappeared in the distance. 

Those who had been near enough to the Count's barouche to witness thisextraordinary scene were greatly astonished that such a famous characteras the eloquent Deputy from Marseilles should stoop to converse with amalefactor in the public street, but their astonishment was immeasurablyaugmented when they saw the influence the celebrated orator exercisedover the depraved Italian. They had not been able to understand theconversation, but the effect of Monte-Cristo's last words seemed littleless than miraculous to them and they rent the air with loud andenthusiastic cheers. 

"Long live the noble Count of Monte-Cristo! Long live the Deputy fromMarseilles, the people's friend!" was shouted on every side. 

Further on the cry was taken up and repeated, ringing forth far alongthe broad and beautiful Champs-Elysées!

Monte-Cristo arose in his barouche and, removing his hat, stoodbareheaded, bowing to the excited populace. 

This was the signal for new and heartier cheers. But the criminalshaving been removed, the crowd soon began to disperse. At length thethoroughfare was cleared and the Count's vehicle could proceed. Ali hadimpassibly resumed the driver's seat and, at a nod from his adoredmaster, started the spirited horses down the immense avenue. As theblooded bays went prancing along with proudly arched necks, the Countbent over and said to Ali:

"Drive at once to the poste of the quarter. "

The Nubian skilfully wheeled the animals about and in a few minutesMonte-Cristo had reached his destination. 

At the door of the poste a gardien received him and, at the mention ofhis name, obsequiously conducted him to the officer in charge. Thelatter, a short, determined-looking man with a bristling gray moustacheand gray hair that stood almost on end upon his little round head, recognized his illustrious visitor at a glance. He hastily arose fromthe desk at which he was seated, engaged in examining the reports of hissubordinates, and politely offered him a chair. Then he asked, deferentially:

"To what am I indebted for so distinguished an honor as a call from theCount of Monte-Cristo?"

"Monsieur, " replied the Count, taking the proffered seat, "two Italianswere arrested a short time ago on the Champs-Elysées and broughthither. "

"Yes, " said the chief of the poste, "and great scoundrels they are, too!We have been shadowing them for some time, but could never detect themin any overt act until to-day. They belong to a very dangerous gang ofprowlers, led by a shrewd German named Waldmann, whose headquarters arein a wretched caboulot of the Cité d' Antin. "

"Of what are these Italians accused, that is what is the presentspecific charge against them?"

"They were caught picking pockets in the crowd thronging about amarionette show. "

"Is the evidence against them conclusive?"

"It is. "

"That is unfortunate, " said the Count, "as one of them is in possessionof information of the utmost importance to me. He has made partialrevelations, but sets as the price of a full disclosure my interferencein behalf of himself and his comrade in crime. What can be done?"

"I do not see, " replied the chief, in perplexity. "It is impossible forme to let the men off. "

"But is there not some way in which I could obtain a mitigation of theirpunishment?"

"Oh! as for that, yes, " said the officer, brightening. "If you wouldspeak to the Procureur de la République, I am sure he would grant youthe minimum sentence in such cases. Perhaps, " added he, as a suddenthought struck him, "he might even be induced not to press theprosecution, in which event the men would be discharged. "

"Thank you, monsieur, " said the Count, rising. "I will act upon yourwise suggestion without delay. But can you grant me a small favor? Canyou allow me a brief interview with the man calling himself Peppino?"

"Undoubtedly, " answered the chief, in a cordial voice, "and I shall bevery glad to do so if it will assist you any. "

"It will enable me to assure the man that I am at work and have somehope of success. "

"Then follow me. "

The chief, who had remained standing out of compliment to the Count, took a large key from a rack behind his desk and opened a door leadinginto a long, dimly-lighted corridor. Monte-Cristo followed him throughthis gloomy passage until they came to a cell before which the chiefstopped. The large key grated in the lock, the door of the cell swungopen with an ominous sound and the Count found himself face to face withthe former Roman bandit. 

Peppino was sitting on the edge of an iron bedstead, the very pictureof despair. He thought that Monte-Cristo had deserted him, that he wouldnot interfere even with the prospect of obtaining the details of theplot against young Massetti. As the Count entered the cell hiscountenance brightened instantly and hope was renewed in his bosom. Thechief discreetly withdrew, saying as he did so:

"I will wait without, in the corridor. "

With these words he closed the door of the cell and Monte-Cristo foundhimself alone with Peppino. 

All the light that made its way into the gloomy cell came through asmall grated window high up in the wall, placed at such a distance fromthe floor that no prisoner could reach it even by climbing upon hisbedstead. The walls and ceiling were of stone. 

"Well, " asked Peppino, "how has your Excellency succeeded?"

"I have made but little progress as yet, though I hope to be able to dosomething for you and Beppo in a very short time, " answered the Count, in a reassuring voice. 

"I am satisfied, " said Peppino, cheerily. "If your Excellency onlydetermines upon it, Beppo and myself will shortly be free!"

"I cannot go that far, my good fellow, but I can and do promise you allmy aid and influence can effect. "

"They will effect everything necessary, Signor Count, " replied theItalian, confidently. 

"Do not hope for too much, Peppino. I have told you that Paris isdifferent from Rome. "

"I have occasion now to know that, " rejoined the outlaw, bitterly. "Butthe power of the Count of Monte-Cristo is the same here as in thecampagna!"

"Keep up a stout heart, at all events, my good fellow. We shall soonknow what can be done. "

"I will keep up a stout heart, Signor Count, for I have perfect faith inyou!"

"So be it. Now, my man, what do you know about the plot against theViscount Massetti?"

"Pardon me, Signor Count, " said the Italian, shrewdly, "but I will tellyou that when Beppo and myself are at liberty!"

Monte-Cristo smiled at the man's cunning. 

"At least, " he said, "tell me if you have seen the Viscount recently. "

"I will do that, your Excellency. I saw him a very short time ago inRome and afterwards with Luigi Vampa and Pasquale Solara in the marshycountry beyond the Trastavere. "

"What brought you and your companion to Paris?"

"We had a disagreement with old Solara, whom Luigi Vampa insisted weshould obey implicitly. Solara was a tyrant; besides, he was as greedyand avaricious as a miser; he wanted everything for himself and wouldallow us nothing; he demanded that all the booty we acquired should bebrought directly to him without division, stating that he would parcelout our shares; this he invariably failed to do and naturally werebelled. Vampa, who has become, if he was not always so, oldPasquale's fast friend, decided against us whenever we carried ourcomplaints to him. Finally we could stand it no longer; we wereabsolutely starving while Solara was heaping up riches, so we determinedto quit the band. We did so and came to Paris, where we have been eversince. "

"I will not ask you what you have been doing in Paris, " saidMonte-Cristo, smiling faintly; "in fact, I need not ask you, for I know;the chief of the poste has told me; but will you promise me to lead abetter life in future and to try to induce Beppo to do the same, if Ishould succeed in effecting your release?"

"I cannot promise you that, " replied the Italian, with averted eyes, "but I will promise you to return to Rome and take Beppo with me. "

"That will do as well, or almost as well, " said the Count. "Armed withsuch a promise, I think I can obtain your freedom. But you must swear tome to leave France immediately after you have been set at liberty, and Ishall consider your oath as binding upon Beppo also. "

"I swear to leave France the very moment I am free! I swear, too, thatBeppo shall accompany me!"

"It is well, " said the Count. "I shall be here again this afternoon orto-morrow at the furthest; but remember that before you leave this cellyou must give me the full details of the conspiracy against youngMassetti!"

"I shall remember it, Signor Count; have no fear of that! When I havespoken old Solara must look out for himself!"

"What do you mean by that?" asked Monte-Cristo, sharply. 

"Never mind at present, Signor Count! I will make everything clear toyou on your return. "

The Deputy from Marseilles quitted the cell and the poste, after havingthanked the chief for his courtesy. He drove without delay to the officeof the Procureur de la République in the Palais de Justice, and it wasnot long before he had matters satisfactorily arranged. The Procureurcheerfully agreed not to push the charge against the Italians oncondition that Monte-Cristo pledged himself they should leave Parisimmediately after the Juge d' Instruction had discharged them. Thispledge the Count made without the slightest hesitation, and it wasdecided that the Juge d' Instruction should hold his formal examinationat the poste that afternoon, when the Procureur would appear through hisDeputy and order the cessation of the proceedings for full andsufficient reasons. The Procureur agreed to notify the Count of theexact hour of the examination that he might be present and ready toexecute his share of the compact. 

As Monte-Cristo drove back to the mansion of the Rue du Helder he couldnot help feeling considerably agitated. What was he about to learn fromPeppino, and how would the Italian's disclosures affect Massetti? Thesewere problems that the next few hours were destined to solve. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

AMID THE COLOSSEUM'S RUINS. 

One of the first things Maximilian Morrel did, after he and his wifewere comfortably installed at the Hôtel de France in Rome, was to make aformal call at the Palazzo Massetti and present his letters ofintroduction to the aged Count, Giovanni's father. 

The old nobleman, who was at least seventy and very patriarchal inappearance because of his flowing white locks and long snowy beard, received the young Frenchman with great urbanity and condescension in asumptuously furnished salon full of rare art treasures and dazzling withgold and satin. He met him with outstretched hand and said, warmly, atthe same time glancing at the Captain's card as if to refresh hismemory:

"I am delighted to have the honor of welcoming so distinguished avisitor as Captain Maximilian Morrel to the Palazzo Massetti. Pray beseated, Captain, and consider my residence as yours. "

The Count spoke French fluently, without even the faintest trace of aforeign accent, and this fact as well as his charmingly cordial mannercaused the young soldier immediately to feel at ease in his presence. 

"I assure you, Count, " returned Maximilian, bowing and then seatinghimself, "that the pleasure is mutual. "

The aged nobleman also took a chair, and for a time they conversedagreeably on various subjects. The Count had been a brave, activesoldier in his day and was much interested in French military affairs. The visitor, who was thoroughly posted on this topic and devotedlyattached to his profession, gave his inquisitive host every detail hedemanded and was particularly enthusiastic when he spoke of the Parisianworkmen, who, as he asserted, could leave their accustomed toil at amoment's notice and encounter the perils of the battlefield with theendurance of trained veterans. 

At length Maximilian thought he could venture to feel the ground inregard to his mission. It was certainly a very delicate matter, but theCount's politeness and bonhomie encouraged him to proceed. Looking theold nobleman straight in the face he said:

"I believe, Count, you have a son named Giovanni, who was recently inParis. "

Instantly the aged Roman's brow clouded and he cast a scrutinizingglance at his guest. Then he said, coldly:

"I have no son!"

Maximilian in his turn gazed searchingly at the Count, but the latter'svisage had already assumed a stony and defiant look that seemed tooppose an insurmountable barrier to further conversation on thissubject. There was an awkward pause, during which the two men continuedto gaze at each other. M. Morrel, though much embarrassed anddisconcerted by the prompt check he had received, was the first to breakthe ominous silence. 

"I ask your pardon, Count, " said he, "but the young man of whom I spokerepresented himself to be the Viscount Giovanni Massetti. Is it possiblethat he was an impostor?"

The Count's aspect became more frigid; he replied, icily:

"I repeat that I have no son!"

Maximilian was sorely puzzled. He knew not what to think or say. The oldnobleman arose as if to terminate the interview. He showed no trace ofexcitement, but M. Morrel felt certain that he was a prey to an internalagitation that he with difficulty controlled. There could be no doubtthat Giovanni was what he had represented himself to be, for had he notpassed as the Viscount Massetti in Rome as well as in Paris? But onesolution to the mystery offered itself--the Count had disowned his son, disowned him because of the terrible crime with which he was charged, from which he had been apparently unable to clear himself. M. Morrelalso arose, but he was unwilling to depart thus, to be summarilydismissed as it were. He determined to make one more effort to get atthe truth. 

"Count, " he said, "I do not wish you to misunderstand me, to impute tomere idle curiosity my desire to be informed concerning this unfortunateand unhappy young man. I know that a black cloud hangs over him, thatat present he is branded and disgraced. I was not aware, however, thathis family had cast him off. "

"Monsieur, " returned the Count, impatiently, "you are strangelypersistent. "

"I am persistent, Count, " said Maximilian, earnestly, "because theViscount Massetti is not alone in his misfortune. Another, an estimableyoung lady, is now languishing in Paris on his account. "

"I pity her!" said the old nobleman, impressively. 

"So do I, " rejoined Maximilian; "from the bottom of my heart I pity themboth and that is the reason I am here. "

"May I ask the name of this estimable young lady?"

"Certainly. Her name is Zuleika; she is the daughter of the world-famousCount of Monte-Cristo. "

Old Massetti gave a start and the muscles of his face twitchednervously, but he managed to control himself and said:

"Indeed! Permit me to inquire what relations the young man sustainedtowards the daughter of the Count of Monte-Cristo. "

"She is or rather was betrothed to him. "

"My God! Another victim! Does the girl love him?"

"She does, with all her soul!"

"Did he betray her, did he lead her astray?"

"No; his conduct towards her was in all respects that of a man of thestrictest honor. "

"Heaven be praised for that! Then no damage has been done! Let herforget him!"

"I fear, I know, she cannot!"

"She is young, isn't she?"

"Very young. "

"Then time will heal her wounds. She must forget him, for he is unworthyof her love!"

"But do you feel no affection, no pity, for your son?"

"I tell you I have no son! How many times must I repeat it!"

The Count's look was harder than ever; all the pride and haughtiness ofthe Massettis seemed concentrated in the expression of his venerablecountenance. Maximilian opened his lips to speak again, but the oldnobleman stopped him and said, sternly:

"We have had enough of this! Captain Morrel, let what has passed betweenus on this wretched subject be forgotten. I shall be glad to receive youat any hour as a friend, but, if you value my acquaintance, myfriendship, never mention that young man to me again! Farewell, Monsieur!"

The Count touched a bell and a valet appeared. Maximilian bowed to hishost and, guided by the servant, quitted the palazzo. In the street hestood for a moment like one utterly bewildered. It was plain that theelder Massetti had fully made up his mind as to Giovanni's guilt, and ifthe father deserted his son what hope was there that the cold, heartlessworld would not follow his example? Maximilian was in despair. At thevery first step in his mission he had been unceremoniously and firmlyhalted. What was he to do? Should he acknowledge himself finallydefeated because his initial attempt had failed so disastrously? No;that would be miserable cowardice! He would persist, he would makefurther investigations. He had undertaken this work for Zuleika, torestore happiness to her heart and light to her eyes, and he would notabandon the task, no matter how arduous it might be, until he hadcleared Giovanni or obtained tangible, incontrovertible proof of hisguilt!

Fortified by this resolution M. Morrel returned to the Hôtel de France. Valentine met him with a look of anxious inquiry. He endeavoured to seemcheerful, to make the best of the situation, but the effort was apitiful failure. He sank into a chair and said to his wife in a dejectedtone:

"I have seen the Count Massetti. He believes his son guilty and hasdisowned him!"

Valentine seated herself beside her husband and tenderly took his hand. 

"Maximilian, " she said, "it is a bad beginning, I confess, but you knowthe proverb and, I trust, the good ending will yet come!"

"It will not be our fault if it does not, " replied her husband, heroically. "At all events, we will do our best. "

"And we shall succeed! I feel confident of that!"

"Thank you for those words, Valentine! You are a perfect enchantress andhave brought my dead hope to life!"

That evening the Morrels' decided to visit the Colosseum. They desiredto see the gigantic remains of that vast fabric of the Cassars bymoonlight, to inspect amid the silvery rays the crumbling courts andgalleries that ages agone had echoed with the proud tread of the éliteof barbaric old Rome! Conducted by a guide belonging to the Hôtel deFrance, they set out and were soon standing among the ruins of the greatamphitheatre. There they were seized upon by a special cicerone, whoseemed to consider the huge wreck of Flavius Vespasian's monument as hisparticular property and who could not be shaken off. He joined forceswith the hôtel guide and the twain, jabbering away industriously in analmost unintelligible jargon, led the helpless visitors from one pointof interest to another, showing them in turn broken columns, the seatsof the Vestals, dilapidated stone staircases, the "Fosse des Lions" andthe "Podium des Césars. " Maximilian and Valentine were filled withunspeakable awe and admiration as they contemplated the remnants ofancient grandeur, and mentally peopled the wondrous Colosseum withcontending gladiators, stately Patricians and the applauding herd ofsanguinary Plebeians, Mme. Morrel shuddering as she thought of thethousands of high-bred dames and beautiful maidens who in the old dayshad pitilessly turned down their thumbs as a signal for the taking ofhuman life! Although the moon was brilliant and flooded the antiqueamphitheatre with argentine light, the guides carried torches, whichserved to spread a flickering and wan illumination through the darkrecesses of the cavernous vomitariums, now the refuge of bats, owls, goats and serpents. 

As they were passing through a long and unusually sombre gallery, theguides suddenly paused with a simultaneous cry and began making the signof the cross. Maximilian and Valentine halted in affright, the formerhurriedly drawing a small pistol to defend his wife and himself againstthe unknown and mysterious danger. They glanced about them but could seenothing, the torches revealing only huge stones and dust-covered vaults. M. Morrel demanded of the guides what was the cause of their terror, butfor some moments could glean no intelligence from their vague, unintelligible replies. At last one of the cicerones managed to explainthat they had seen the maniac! This was comforting information to thevisitors! A maniac at large and ranging at night about amid theColosseum's ruins! Valentine, trembling with fear, clung to her husbandfor protection. 

"Is it a man or a woman?" asked Maximilian of one of the guides. 

"A man, signor. "

"Is he violent, dangerous?"

"No, signor, neither; but his appearance gives one a terrible shock, heis so wild-looking, and, besides, he mutters fearful curses! HolyVirgin, protect us!"

Maximilian felt his curiosity aroused; a strange desire took possessionof him to see and speak with this singular madman, who frequented thegladiators' courts and muttered fearful curses to the broken columns ofthe Colosseum. 

"Where is the maniac now?" he demanded of the guides. "Do you see him?"

"Heaven forbid!" replied one of the men, glancing about him uneasily. 

"But where is he? Can you take us to him?" persisted Maximilian. 

The cicerones looked at each other in amazement; the young soldier'squestions startled them. Valentine was not less amazed and startled thanthe guides; she stared at her husband, speechless at the strangeinterest he displayed in this miserable outcast. 

"Can you take us to him?" repeated Maximilian. 

"Signor, " said the guide belonging to the hôtel, "you are jesting!"

"I am not jesting, I am in earnest, " said M. Morrel. "Answer myquestion. "

"Of course, we can take you to him, signor, " answered the guide; "butyou had best avoid him; the sight of the wretched Massetti will driveyour lady out of her wits!"

At the name Massetti both Maximilian and Valentine started; they glancedat each other and at the man who had spoken, thinking that they had notheard aright. 

"Massetti!" cried M. Morrel, when his astonishment permitted him to findwords. "Did you say Massetti?"

"Yes, signor, I said Massetti. The maniac is old Count Massetti'sdisowned and disinherited son!"

"What! The Viscount Giovanni?"

"The same, signor!"

"Oh! this is dreadful, dreadful, Maximilian!" whispered Valentine, clinging still closer to her husband. 

"It is, indeed, dreadful; doubly so because entirely unexpected, " saidM. Morrel. "But I must see young Massetti--it was, no doubt, somemysterious influence, some indescribable magnetic power, operatingbetween us, that made me wish to see this man, this maniac, as soon ashe was mentioned!--I must see him and at once!"

As the guides possessed but a very slight knowledge of the Frenchlanguage, in which the dialogue between the husband and wife had beencarried on, they failed to grasp the full import of the briefconversation; they, however, understood that their patrons were in someinexplicable way interested in the maniac of the Colosseum and appalledby the sudden discovery of his identity. The situation puzzled anddissatisfied them. 

After thinking for an instant, Maximilian said to his wife:

"I will instruct the guide from the hôtel to conduct you back to ourapartments. It is best that I should meet poor Massetti alone; seeingthe wretched man in his present terrible condition would certainly shockand unnerve you. "

Valentine gazed pleadingly into her husband's face. All her fear hadleft her. She was calm now and resolved. She had proposed the trip toRome, the project of aiding the Viscount, and she did not wish to recoilfrom taking a single step that might be beneficial to Giovanni andZuleika. She said, bravely:

"Do not send me from you, Maximilian! I will be stout-hearted andcourageous! I am not afraid of this poor young man now, maniac though hebe! Perhaps I may be able to help you in dealing with him, for a woman'swit and tenderness, they say, can sometimes subdue and pacify thosewhose minds are disordered when all a man's efforts have failed. "

Maximilian looked at her lovingly and admiringly. 

"So be it, Valentine, " he replied, much affected. "You shall remain withme and we will face the trial together!"

His wife's eyes expressed her satisfaction at this display ofconfidence; she simply grasped her husband's hand, but though sheuttered not a word the warm pressure she gave it spoke volumes. 

M. Morrel turned to the cicerones, who were waiting in silentbewilderment. 

"Take us to this maniac without an instant's delay!" he said. 

The guides exchanged glances, shook their heads as if in protest andagain began making the sign of the cross. Maximilian was compelled torepeat his command somewhat sternly and imperatively before they made amovement to obey it; then very reluctantly they motioned their patronsto follow them and took the lead, muttering prayers to the BlessedVirgin. 

The little party quitted the sombre gallery and made their way into theopen air. After they had gone about twenty yards the guides came to anabrupt halt and one of them pointed to the centre of the vastgladiatorial arena. 

"Look, signor!" he said to M. Morrel. "There stands the maniac of theColosseum!"

Maximilian and Valentine peered quickly and anxiously in the directionindicated but saw nothing. 

"There, signor!" repeated the cicerone, still pointing. 

Then, all of a sudden, Maximilian and Valentine beheld the figure of aman standing as motionless as a statue beside a vast fragment of stone. The moonlight fell full upon a manly, noble form, revealing a handsomecountenance that might have belonged to one of the old Roman gods. Theman's dress was in picturesque disorder and on his bare head was a crownof ivy leaves. In one hand he held a tall staff, while the other waslifted menacingly. 

"Hark!" said one of the guides, with a shudder. "He is cursing!"

M. And Mme. Morrel listened, horror-stricken, filled with a namelessdread. A faint, but distinct murmur reached them, gradually swelling involume. It was a fierce, bitter malediction, full of intense, burninghatred, seeming to embrace God, man and the entire universe in itsscope. 

The guides fell upon their knees, uncovered their heads and prayed tothe Virgin in low tones. 

Maximilian took Valentine by the hand. 

"Come, " said he, "let us go to him!"

Mme. Morrel trembled slightly, but answered, firmly:

"I am ready!"

Then, hand in hand, slowly, cautiously, not knowing what might happen, they advanced towards the maniac of the Colosseum. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

PEPPINO'S STORY. 

At the appointed hour, of which he had been duly notified by theProcureur de la République, the Count of Monte-Cristo entered the roomset apart for the use of the Juge d' Instruction at the police postewhere Peppino and Beppo were confined. The magistrate was already on thejudicial bench and by his side stood the Deputy Procureur, who wasexplaining to him the wishes of his superior. As Monte-Cristo came in hebowed to the Juge and the Deputy, who returned his salute with all therespect due to so exalted a personage. 

"Messieurs, " said the Count, after this exchange of civilities, "youare, of course, aware of the reason of my presence here this afternoon, so we can proceed to business at once, but before the Italians arebrought in I have a slight favor to ask. "

"Name it, M. The Count, " said the Juge d' Instruction, blandly. "Weshall be happy to grant it if it lies within our power to do so. "

"Well, messieurs, " said the Count of Monte-Cristo, stepping upon theplatform and leaning on the Juge's desk, "it is simply this. Theprisoner calling himself Peppino is in possession of certain details towhich I attach considerable importance. He has promised to reveal themto me as the price of his liberty and that of his companion. It isneedless to say that the sole motive of my interference in this matteris to obtain these details. Now, from long experience I know all thetrickery and treachery of the Italian nature. Once free, this man mightsnap his fingers in my face and refuse to speak. After the formalitiesof the law have been duly complied with, I wish the prisoners remandedto their cells and informed that their liberation will take place onlywhen Peppino has given me the promised intelligence. "

"That will be but a trifling stretch of my authority, " replied the Juged' Instruction, smiling, "if it is any stretch whatever, for, as Iunderstand the case, the prisoners are to remain virtually in yourcustody until their departure from France, for which you have pledgedyour word to the Procureur de la République. Hence the favor you askshall be cheerfully granted. "

As he concluded the Juge d' Instruction glanced at the Deputy Procureur, who nodded assent. 

The magistrate touched a bell that stood on his desk and said to thegardien de la paix who answered the summons:

"Bring in the prisoners. "

Monte-Cristo and the Deputy retired from the platform, seatingthemselves in a couple of fauteuils placed at a table immediately infront of the Juge's desk. 

As the two Italians were brought in Peppino glanced first at themagistrate on the bench and then at the Deputy. Finally his eyes restedon the Count, when his countenance instantly lighted up; heinstinctively felt that Monte-Cristo's mysterious influence had beenfully as potent with the authorities of Paris as with Luigi Vampa andhis band, that the wonderful man had succeeded in effecting theliberation of himself and Beppo. 

"Place the prisoners at the bar, " said the Juge d' Instruction, addressing the gardien. 

This order was instantly complied with and the two Italians stood facingthe magistrate. 

"Remove your hats. "

The prisoners obeyed, Peppino with a confident smile, Beppo with asullen scowl. 

"Prisoners at the bar, " said the Juge d' Instruction severely, "you arecharged with the offense of picking pockets upon the public street. Whathave you to say?"

This formal and rather menacing beginning was both a surprise and adisappointment to Peppino. He glanced inquiringly at Monte-Cristo, butcould read nothing in his pale, handsome face; then with a dark frown hemade answer to the Juge, in a harsh, defiant tone:

"I am not guilty!"

The magistrate glanced at Beppo who in his turn repeated his comrade'swords. 

Here the Deputy Procureur arose and said to the Juge d' Instruction, ina full, clear voice:

"May it please you, honored Juge, as the representative of the Procureurde la République I desire to state that it is not my intention to pushthe charge against the prisoners at the bar. For this course I have agood and sufficient reason. I, therefore, in my official capacity demandthat the persons calling themselves Peppino and Beppo be discharged. "

This demand was another surprise to Peppino, but he instantly divinedthat Monte-Cristo counted for a great deal in it and gazed at him with alook of gratitude. Beppo was absolutely astounded, for he could notunderstand the sudden, favorable turn in the situation. 

The Juge d' Instruction, in pursuance of the form prescribed by law, said to the Deputy:

"May I ask the worthy representative of the Procureur de la Républiquewhat are his good and sufficient reasons?"

"Certainly, honored Juge, " replied the functionary. "His Excellency theCount of Monte-Cristo, here present, has entered into a compact with theProcureur, pledging himself in the event of the prisoners' discharge toinduce them to quit France immediately. "

At this Monte-Cristo arose and facing the judicial bench said, in thatimpressive manner which always marked his public speeches:

"Honored Juge, what the Deputy Procureur has just said is perfectly truein every respect. In the event of the prisoners' discharge I standpledged to his superior in office to see that they return to Italywithout delay. "

The Deputy and the Count resumed their seats. The Juge d' Instructionappeared to think for a moment; then he said:

"My duty in the premises is plain. No evidence is presented against theprisoners and the official statement and demand of the Procureur de laRépublique, expressed through his worthy and esteemed representative, preclude the necessity of a formal interrogation of the accused. Ishall, therefore, discharge them, subject, however, to the control ofhis Excellency, the Count of Monte-Cristo. Prisoners at the bar, " headded, addressing Peppino and Beppo, "I remand you to your cells, yourliberation to take place at such time as his Excellency, the Count ofMonte-Cristo may determine. "

He resumed his seat upon the judicial bench, motioning to the gardien toremove the prisoners. 

Ten minutes later Monte-Cristo was in Peppino's cell. The Italian wasradiant with delight and very effusive in the expression of his thanksto his powerful and mysterious benefactor. 

The Count waved his hand impatiently. 

"A truce to thanks, " he said. "Time presses, and the sooner you give methe details of the conspiracy against the Viscount Massetti the sooneryou and your companion will be free. "

Peppino threw himself half down upon his bed and Monte-Cristo seatedhimself on a rickety stool, his usually impassible countenance plainlyshowing the absorbing interest he felt in what was to follow. 

The Italian cleared his throat and began. 

"Signor Count, " said he, "in the first place I must tell you that youngMassetti has been disowned and disinherited by his proud, stern father, who believes him one of the guiltiest and most depraved scoundrels onearth!"

Monte-Cristo gave a start; his face grew a shade paler than was habitualwith him, but he said nothing; he was eagerly awaiting furtherdevelopments. 

"That is not all, however, " continued Peppino, after a slight pause tonote the effect of his communication upon his auditor, "nor is it theworst! The unfortunate Viscount, upon being ignominiously expelled fromthe Palazzo Massetti by the old Count's orders, immediately lost hissenses; he is now a raving maniac!"

"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" exclaimed Monte-Cristo, springing to his feet andpacing the cell, a prey to intense agitation he did not endeavour tocontrol. "A raving maniac!--Giovanni a raving maniac! Oh! my daughter, my daughter!"

"All I say is the truth, " resumed the Italian. "As I hope for Heaven Iswear it!"

"But what has become of Massetti? Where is he?" demanded the Count, abruptly pausing in his walk. "Has he been consigned to some asylum?"

"He is an outcast and a wanderer, " replied Peppino. "All Rome frownsupon him, avoids him as a pestilence is avoided. When I left Italy hehad sought refuge amid the ruins of the Colosseum, where he was theterror alike of visitors and the superstitious guides. I saw him therewith my own eyes the day before my departure. He was in rags, carried atall staff, wore a crown of ivy leaves and spent his time cursing Godand man. They say he never leaves the ruins, save to beg a few scrapsupon which to subsist, and that he sleeps at night in the depths of adark vomitarium in company with bats, spiders and other unclean things. "

"This is incredible!" cried Monte-Cristo, gazing piercingly at hiscompanion and half suspecting that he was drawing upon his vivid Italianimagination for some of his graphic details. 

"But it is true, Signor Count, " protested Peppino, earnestly; "everyword of it is true!"

"Go on, " said Monte-Cristo, hoarsely, again seating himself on thestool. "Tell me about the conspiracy. "

"I am coming to it, Signor Count, " said the former bandit, assuming asitting posture upon the edge of the bed. "You know, of course, that thecause of all the Viscount Massetti's trouble was a certain handsomeyoung peasant girl named Annunziata Solara?"

"I have heard it was some woman, but that does not matter; proceed. "

"This girl sold flowers in the Piazza del Popolo and on the Corso; thereshe attracted the attention of Massetti and your son Espérance. "

"Espérance!" exclaimed Monte-Cristo, his hands working nervously. "Oh!mon Dieu! the light is commencing to break!"

Peppino smiled reassuringly. 

"Have no fear, Signor Count, " said he; "in all the unhappy occurrencesthat brought the poor Viscount under suspicion your son bore a part asnoble as it was honorable; you have abundant reason to be proud of him!"

Monte-Cristo uttered a sigh of relief. 

"Can you prove this?"

"I can. Luigi Vampa and his whole band know your son to be entirelyinnocent so far as the flower-girl is concerned and will so expressthemselves. Even old Solara himself, hardened and despicable wretch ashe is, will not seek to inculpate him. Rest assured that the proof ofyour son's innocence is ample. "

"Luigi Vampa has already written to me that no guilt attaches toEspérance, but I must have more reliable vouchers than the letter oreven the oath of a notorious brigand. "

"Such vouchers can be procured without much difficulty. The unfortunategirl herself, who is now in the Refuge at Civita Vecchia, will exculpatehim. "

"But the details of the plot, the details of the plot!"

"Well, the Viscount learned from Annunziata that she dwelt in thecountry beyond the Trastavere and that evening set out to find her. Yourson, who knew his object, followed him to protect him against thebandits. Massetti was halted by one of Vampa's men, who wounded him inthe struggle that ensued, your son appearing in time to kill the brigandand rescue his friend. Shortly afterwards they encountered a largenumber of Vampa's band and narrowly escaped being hung to the nearesttrees in revenge for the death of the man slain by your son. They wereset free by Vampa himself as soon as he learned that Espérance was yourson, Massetti having disclosed both his own identity and that of hiscomrade. The young men, it seems, had determined to return to Romeimmediately after the Viscount received his wound, but Massetti grewfaint from pain and loss of blood and it was resolved to seek forshelter. A peasant appeared at this juncture and, after some hesitation, agreed to conduct them to his father's cabin where they could pass thenight. He was as good as his word. To be brief, the young men, who weredisguised as peasants, soon found themselves in Pasquale Solara's hutand in the presence of the fair Annunziata herself. "

Peppino paused for an instant and then continued:

"These preliminary details, Signor Count, are necessary to enable you tounderstand the conspiracy which was speedily to be hatched. The peasant, who had conducted Massetti and your son to the very spot the former hadleft Rome to seek, was Annunziata's brother. Old Pasquale Solara wasabsent from home at the time of the arrival of the strangers, butreturned shortly afterwards. I have no doubt that he had long been inleague with Luigi Vampa and had been secretly acting as his agent andconfederate. At any rate, when he arrived he was well aware that theyoung men were at his cabin and was also thoroughly informed as to theiridentity, though, with his habitual cunning, he concealed both facts, feigning surprise and dissatisfaction when it was announced to him byhis children that he had guests. Secretly he was delighted, for thepresence of young Massetti gave him an opportunity at once to take asignal revenge on the old Count, whom he had long bitterly hated, and todivert the crashing stigma of a fiendish act he meditated from himselfto the name and fame of another. "

"Do you mean to assert that this wretched old man had base designsagainst his own daughter?" said the Count, his visage expressing all thehorror he felt. 

"Exactly, " answered Peppino, coolly. "Old Solara, miserable miser as heis, had for a very large sum of the gold he so ardently coveted sold hisown child, his beautiful daughter Annunziata, to the bandit chief LuigiVampa!"

"The black-hearted demon!" exclaimed Monte-Cristo. "He is unworthy ofthe name of man! In Paris the indignant populace would crush him todeath beneath their feet!"

"So, you see, " resumed the Italian, "the arrival of Massetti wasopportune, and Pasquale Solara, after having seen that the Viscount wassafely housed beneath the roof of his cabin, hastened back to LuigiVampa and together they laid the foul plot that succeeded but too well. A more shrewdly devised and thoroughly concealed piece of diabolicalvillainy has never stained the annals of the civilized world!"

CHAPTER XVIII. 

MORE OF PEPPINO'S STORY. 

Monte-Cristo was horrified by what he had heard. His whole soul revoltedat the idea of a father who could deliberately and in cold blood sellhis daughter, at the idea of a wretch who with equal deliberation couldcast the blame of a villainy committed by himself upon an innocent man. It had seemed very strange to the Count, at the time Luigi Vampa hadwritten to him, that the brigand chief should be so thoroughly posted inregard to the innocence of Espérance and the guilt of the ViscountMassetti, but in the light of the astounding revelations just made byPeppino it became abundantly clear that Vampa in the young Italian'scase had been actuated by the strongest possible motive, namely, thedesire to shield himself, and that in order to do so effectually he hadnot shrunk from the vilest and most complete falsehood. Of course, Vampahad not wished to inculpate Espérance because of the old-time compact, the relations that had subsisted between him and Monte-Cristo in thepast; that was equally plain; besides one victim was sufficient, and inselecting Massetti as that victim the brigand chief had evidently actedat the instigation of old Pasquale Solara. 

Peppino proceeded with his disclosures. 

"Signor Count, " said he, "I had long suspected that something was onthe carpet between Vampa and old Solara. The moody and morose shepherddid not at first come to the bandits' haunt, but in response to a signalhe used, a peculiar vibrating whistle, the chief would go out alone andmeet him. This signal and Vampa's actions aroused my curiosity; morethan once I followed the chief and, securely hidden behind a tree or arock, witnessed the secret meetings, overhearing portions of theconversation. Annunziata Solara was frequently mentioned, and the fatherseemed to be endeavouring to drive a hard bargain with Vampa. At lastone night they came to an understanding. I heard the chief agree to payold Pasquale an enormous sum of money upon the delivery of Annunziatainto his hands, and then I realized that the nefarious sale had beenconcluded. It was decided that the ill-fated girl should be passed overto Vampa at the first opportunity, and that opportunity came when theViscount Massetti and your son Espérance were domiciled at the isolatedcabin in the forest. 

"I was on the alert and when, after assuring himself of the arrival ofthe two young men at his hut, old Pasquale sought the bandits'rendezvous and sounded his vibrating signal, I heard it. Stealthilyfollowing Vampa, I concealed myself as I had done on previous occasions. I was now thoroughly familiar with the details of the base transactionin progress between the precious pair and could readily comprehend eventheir most obscure and guarded allusions. Old Solara informed the chiefthat the young men had arrived, proposing that Vampa should abductAnnunziata at the earliest possible moment, so arranging matters thatsuspicion would fall upon the Viscount Massetti. This the chief agreedto do. The shepherd was to keep him posted, and the abduction was totake place when circumstances were best calculated to promote thesuccess of all the phases of the villainous plot. With thisunderstanding the conspirators separated. 

"Fate sided with old Pasquale and Vampa. His wound kept the Viscount atthe cabin and the fair Annunziata nursed him. He had become smitten withher beauty the day he met her in the Piazza del Popolo. Intimateassociation with her intensified her influence over him, and when he hadbeen in the cabin nearly a week and convalescence had begun he madeviolent love to her, even going so far as to ask her to fly with him. Espérance divined his friend's intentions and, knowing that Massetticould not marry the girl, interposed to save her. The result was aquarrel and your son challenged the Viscount to fight him. The challengewas instantly accepted and it was arranged that the duel should occur onthe following morning. 

"Faithful to his promise to Vampa, old Solara, while pretending to beabsent from home, lurked in the vicinity and kept track of all that wasgoing on. He was hidden beneath the open window when Massetti or Tonio, as he called himself, for both the Viscount and Espérance were passingunder assumed names, proposed flight to his daughter. Instantly hehastened to the brigand chief, who had been prowling in theneighborhood of the hut all day, and gleefully communicated to him whathe had heard. It was immediately decided that the time for the abductionhad come and preparations were made to carry off Annunziata that verynight. Vampa wrote a criminating letter to the girl purporting to comefrom Massetti, and old Solara, stealing unobserved into the hut, placedit beneath his daughter's work-box on her table where she afterwardsfound it. It was not for a moment supposed that the girl would consentto fly with the Viscount, for though gay and light-hearted she was pureand innocent; the note was simply intended to fill Annunziata's mind, after the abduction, with the idea that Massetti was her abductor. "

"What shrewd, far-seeing villainy!" muttered Monte-Cristo, between histeeth. 

"That night there was no moon, " continued Peppino, "and, after all theinmates of the cabin had retired to rest, old Pasquale waited outsidewith a torch while Vampa made his way to Annunziata's chamber, tore herfrom her couch and carried her to the forest, preventing her from givingthe alarm by placing his hand over her mouth. He was masked and theshepherd kept at such a distance that it was utterly impossible for hisdaughter to recognize him. As Vampa ran through the forest with hisburden, he struck his arm against a tree and the pain caused him to takehis hand for a second from Annunziata's mouth. The poor girl profited bythis opportunity to scream and her cry brought first her brother, thenthe Viscount and then Espérance to her aid. 

"The brother on reaching Vampa attacked him fiercely. Dropping thegirl, who stood rooted to the spot, the chief drew a pistol and fired athis assailant. The latter was hit and staggered back, the blood gushingfrom his wound. Somehow during the struggle Vampa became unmasked and, in the prevailing obscurity, Annunziata naturally imagined that the facesuddenly uncovered and as quickly masked again was that of her suitor, the so-called Tonio. Having disposed of the brother, who afterwards ranback towards the cabin, met Espérance, rushed into his arms and thenfell to the ground where he died, the brigand chief seized Annunziata, who meanwhile had swooned, and resumed his flight through the forest. Hearing the sound of further pursuit, Vampa paused in dismay andlistened. Three persons seemed to be rapidly approaching. The chiefthereupon concealed the unconscious girl behind a huge fragment of rockand threw himself flat upon the ground, hoping thus to escapeobservation. As he did so he saw the glare of old Solara's torch. Itflashed full in the face of a peasant, a perfect stranger, who had heardAnnunziata's cry and come to the rescue. The shepherd had a knife in onehand; he instantly cast away his torch and closed in desperate conflictwith the new comer. At that moment the Viscount came upon the scene, moving as if to take the part of the stranger. Vampa leaped up, graspedhim by the throat and, under the threat of instant death if he refused, forced him to take an oath of silence in regard to the events of thenight. Massetti was so bewildered that he scarcely knew what he wasdoing. No sooner had he taken the oath than Vampa treacherously dealthim a crushing blow that sent him reeling to the ground, where he laymotionless and unconscious. Then the chief again threw himself upon thesoil, springing up once more to face Espérance. The latter aimed apistol at him, but he whirled it from his hand. Then the young manstruck fiercely at him, but Vampa dodged the blow and his adversary fellforward from his own impetus on a thick growth of moss beside Massetti'sprostrate form. Taking prompt advantage of his opportunity, the chiefsecured possession of the yet unconscious Annunziata and this timesucceeded in bearing her in triumph to a hut he had provided for herreception. "

Peppino then proceeded to relate what the reader has already learnedfrom Annunziata's pitiful recital to Mme. De Rancogne in the Refuge atCivita Vecchia. When he had concluded, he glanced at his auditor andsaid:

"Are you satisfied, Signor Count?"

"I am, " answered Monte-Cristo, in a hoarse voice that sounded strangelyunlike his own. "You have fully earned the freedom of yourself and yourcomrade Beppo. The tale of black iniquity you have so vividly told memight seem improbable in other ears but to me it bears the impress oftruth. One point, however, is obscure. I cannot imagine in what manneryou learned the particulars of certain events in your narrative, eventswhich you could not have witnessed with your own eyes. Enlighten me onthis point. "

"Willingly, " answered Peppino, without the slightest hesitation. "Ilearned the details you speak of partly from Vampa himself and partlyfrom old Solara. The twain compared notes after the latter had openlyjoined the bandits, and I took good care to overhear theirconversation. "

Monte-Cristo had arisen and now paced the cell for several momentsplunged in deep thought. His brow was cloudy and dark, but his eyessparkled fiercely and his hands were clenched so tightly that his nailsleft red marks in his flesh. The Italian still sitting on the edge ofhis bed watched him narrowly, not knowing what to make of hispreoccupation and agitated by a vague fear lest he might refuse tofulfil his promise. At length Monte-Cristo appeared to have solved theknotty problem that had perplexed him and to have arrived at a decision. He came in front of the Italian, halted and, gazing steadfastly at him, said:

"My good fellow, I have, as you know, obtained freedom for yourself andBeppo by pledging my word to the Procureur de la République that both ofyou shall at once quit the country. On your side you have done as youagreed and I am now about to execute my part of the bargain. "

Peppino's countenance assumed an expression of the utmost delight. Allhis apprehensions instantly vanished. 

"Now, " continued Monte-Cristo, impressively, "I have a proposition tomake to you. You can be exceedingly useful to me if you will and at thesame time acquire a large sum of money honestly and honorably. "

The Italian's eyes glittered with pleasure. 

"Name your proposition, Signor Count, " he said, enthusiastically. "Iaccept it in advance. But is Beppo included in it?"

"He is, " answered the Count. "The revelations you have made to me havedecided me to go to Rome at once. I shall take my daughter with me, aswell as my Nubian servant Ali. I desire you and Beppo to enter myservice and accompany me. Humanity demands that I use all my influenceto right the unfortunate Viscount Massetti, and I wish you to aid me inthe work. "

"I will do as you desire, Signor Count, " said the Italian, "and I willpromise that Beppo shall also comply with your wishes. "

"Very well, " rejoined Monte-Cristo. "It is understood and agreed upon. One condition, however, I must exact. You and Beppo must hold nocommunication with Luigi Vampa or any of his band, at least not until Iso direct. "

"The condition shall be scrupulously observed, Signor Count. While inyour service your commands shall be our only law. "

"It is sufficient. Now I am going to set you and Beppo at liberty. Youwill at once accompany me to my residence and there the preparations forour departure will immediately be made. We shall start for Rometo-morrow. "

"As your Excellency pleases, " said the Italian. 

Monte-Cristo summoned the gardien on duty at the poste, directing himto produce Beppo, and soon the Count and the Italians were seated in theformer's barouche and being rapidly driven by Ali towards the mansion onthe Rue du Helder. 

No sooner had they arrived at their destination than the Count, givingthe new additions to his retinue into the charge of the faithful Nubian, repaired to his study, summoning Zuleika to him. The girl hastened toobey the summons, and the sight of her father's pale, stern countenanceinstantly told her that something very unusual and important had takenplace. 

"My child, " said the Count, taking her tenderly in his arms and gazingfondly into her upturned, anxious face, "I have to-day received somevery startling intelligence. "

Zuleika's heart beat wildly at this announcement; she felt convincedthat the very startling intelligence concerned her unfortunate, long-silent lover. 

"Father, " said she, in a tremulous voice, "have you received word fromthe Viscount Massetti?"

"No, my child, " answered Monte-Cristo; "but tidings of the gravestnature relating to him have been imparted to me. "

"Tidings of the gravest nature, father! Is it possible that he is dead?"

As she uttered the last words, the poor girl burst into a flood oftears. 

"No, my child, " replied the Count. "Young Massetti is not dead. "

"Has he succeeded in clearing himself of that terrible charge?" thegirl asked, trembling with anxiety. 

"Alas! no! But he is innocent, Zuleika, as innocent of the dreadfulcrime imputed to him as the babe unborn! Of that you can rest assured, for the proof of his innocence is in my hands!"

Zuleika gave a wild cry of joy and flung her arms about her father'sneck. 

"Calm yourself, my child, " resumed Monte-Cristo; "all will yet be well. I start for Rome to-morrow with Ali and two of Giovanni's friends. Beready to accompany me!"

Zuleika's ecstasy was almost beyond bounds; but alas! she did not knowthat Giovanni's mind had been overthrown by the shame and disgrace thathad been heaped upon him!

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE MANIAC OF THE COLOSSEUM. 

After quitting their guides at the Colosseum Maximilian and Valentineadvanced towards the centre of the gladiatorial arena where the dementedGiovanni Massetti was standing. He did not notice them, did not seem topay even the slightest attention to his surroundings, but kept his eyesupturned towards heaven, the murmur of bitter malediction constantlyissuing from his lips. As M. And Mme. Morrel approached his words becameclearer and clearer and they had no difficulty whatever in fullyunderstanding their terrible import. No wonder the guides werefrightened by such a flow of bitter scathing curses!

The afflicted Viscount maintained his motionless, statue-like attitude, resembling more the weird creation of some sculptor's vivid fancy than aliving, breathing mortal. Valentine was filled with indescribable sorrowas she gazed at him and realized that this wreck of noble, gloriousmanhood was the beloved of Zuleika's heart, the being with whose unhappydestiny that of Monte-Cristo's daughter was inextricably entwined. Oh!that by some miracle, such as the fabled divinities of old Olympus weresaid to have performed, he might be restored to reason and thepossession of an unblemished name! But the days of miracles were over, and if the young Italian was to be brought back to sanity and clearedfrom the fearful charge against him that had wrought all this harm, thismisery, it must be by earthly and ordinary means. Perhaps she and herhusband were destined to work these apparently impossible changes! Whoknew? Many things equally improbable had happened, and why should notthis wondrous transformation, a transformation worthy of the wand ofsome potent Prospero, be effected? Valentine was a devoted friend and anenthusiast, and Monte-Cristo's maxim, "Wait and Hope, " was her guidingstar. "Wait and Hope!" Oh! how cheering, how reassuring was that simple, trustful motto!

Maximilian, on his side, felt unutterable pity for both the wretched manbefore him and the lovely Zuleika, the sweet and tender child of hisbenefactor, languishing and despairing far away in her father'sluxurious, palatial home. The poor girl was surrounded by all theblessings that unbounded wealth could confer; she had the Count's love, Mercédès' love, Espérance's love and the sincere affection of all whoknew her; but alas! princely riches, parental, brotherly love and theaffection of friends were as nothing compared to the passion that wasgnawing at her vitals, a desperate, hopeless passion that was but aheavy weight of woe! But was this passion altogether desperate andhopeless? Time alone could show!

M. And Mme. Morrel were now within a few feet of the hapless, crazedyoung man, but his attention was so engrossed by the mad thoughtssurging through his bewildered brain that he yet failed to detect theirpresence. 

Bidding Valentine remain where she was, her husband drew close besideGiovanni and suddenly placed his hand on his shoulder. The Viscountstarted at this unexpected interruption of his sombre reverie andhastily glanced at the intruder. His eyes, however, had a stony, uncomprehending stare, expressing neither surprise nor fear. 

"Giovanni Massetti, " said Maximilian, "listen to me! I am a friend!"

The young man replied, in a low, discordant voice:

"Who is it mentions Giovanni Massetti? There was once a man who borethat name, but he is dead, dead to the world!"

"I have told you I am a friend, " resumed M. Morrel. "I have come to saveyou!"

"A friend!--a friend!" cried the maniac, with a burst of bitter, mockinglaughter that pierced Maximilian through and through like asharp-pointed, keen-edged stiletto and made Valentine shudder as if shehad come in contact with polar ice. "A friend!--a friend! Come to saveme--me! ha! ha! ha! A labor of Hercules with no Hercules to accomplishit! You are mad, my poor fellow! Besides, I am not Giovanni Massetti--Iam a King, an Emperor! Behold my sceptre and my crown!"

He pointed to his tall staff and the wreath of ivy leaves encircling hishead, pointed triumphantly and with all the dignity of a thronedmonarch. 

It was a pitiful sight, in the highest degree pitiful, this spectacleof intellect overthrown, of the glorious mental light of youthfulmanhood which had became clouded and obscured. 

Maximilian was deeply affected, but, knowing full well that all hisfirmness, resolution and resources would be requisite in dealing withthe wretched man he had come so far to aid, he controlled his emotionand said, in a comparatively steady voice:

"Giovanni Massetti, in the name of the woman you love, in the name ofZuleika, Monte-Cristo's daughter, I conjure you to be calm and hear me. I am her ambassador, I come to you from her!"

The young man put his hand to his forehead and seemed to be striving tocollect his scattered senses. 

"Zuleika?--Zuleika?" he murmured. "Monte-Cristo's daughter? Yes, yes, Ihave heard of her before--a long time back in the dreary past! I read ofher in some book of history or the verses of some oriental poet. She wasa Queen!--yes, she was a Queen! Well, what of this Zuleika?"

He stood as if waiting for some Arabian romance to be unfolded to him, with parted lips and a vacant smile sorrowful to see. 

Since his interview with the old Count Massetti Maximilian's hope forthe success of his difficult mission had been but a very slender thread. Now that thread was stretched to its utmost tension, and Zuleika'sambassador felt that it must shortly snap asunder and vanishirrecoverably. Love is ever a potent influence with man but this poordemented creature appeared to have lost even the faintest conception ofthe crowning passion of life, since Zuleika's name, the name of hisbetrothed, had failed to awaken his memory or touch a sympathetic chordin his bosom. 

As Maximilian stood uncertain what to do next, but as yet reluctant toabandon the miserable Viscount to his fate, Valentine came to him and, placing her hand on his arm, said:

"My husband, it is useless to endeavor to move this unfortunate man inhis present condition; his mind is incapable of rational action. Only bycare and soothing influence can he be restored to himself. He must beinduced to accompany us to some asylum, some institution where he can betreated for his dreadful malady. "

"You are right, Valentine, as you always are, " answered M. Morrel. "Thecourse you suggest is the only one to be taken at this juncture. But howis Giovanni to be induced to accompany us? Force cannot be employed--wehave no legal right to use it--and I greatly fear that the Viscount willnot follow us of his own accord, no matter to what solicitations we mayresort. "

"Trust that to me, Maximilian, " rejoined Valentine, sweetly andpersuasively. "Remember what I said about a woman's wit and tenderness. "

"I remember it, and now, if ever, is the time for the trial of theirpower, for I have utterly failed. But, surely, Valentine, you do notpropose to risk dealing with this poor man whose mind is reduced tochaos and who might, in a sudden access of unaccountable fury, do youharm even before I could interfere?"

"I certainly do propose dealing with him! I am an enchantress, you know, and now you shall witness a further and more convincing proof of thepotency of my spells than was shown in bringing your dead hope to life!"

Maximilian was not altogether satisfied with his wife's heroicresolution, but she firmly persisted in it and finally he allowed her tohave her way. She quitted his side and approached Giovanni, her finecountenance wearing a bewitching smile as seductive as that of aScandinavian valkyria ministering at the feast of heroes in the fabledValhalla. 

The guides, who amid their petitions to the Blessed Virgin had steadilywatched the singular proceedings of their patrons, were both astoundedand horrified when they saw Valentine leave her husband and boldly walktowards the maniac. They redoubled the fervency of their prayers andbreathlessly waited for what was about to happen. 

The Viscount had not yet observed Valentine. When she came in front ofhim and paused, still smiling, he saw her for the first time. Droppinghis staff, he clasped his hands and gazed at her in an ecstasy ofadmiration. 

"What beautiful, what heavenly vision is this?" he exclaimed, ardently, his voice assuming more of the characteristics of humanity than it hadyet displayed. 

Valentine was silent; she wished to get Massetti completely under herinfluence before speaking to him. Motionless and statuesquely she stood, allowing the maniac to gaze his fill at her. 

"Who are you, divine vision?" continued the Viscount, seeming to thinkhimself the prey of some passing dream. "Oh! you are a spirit!--agoddess such as of old presided over the sports of theColosseum!--perhaps Juno herself! Do not vanish from my sight, do notbecome a filmy cloud and dissolve in ether! Oh! speak to me, gloriousapparition! Let me hear the celestial melody of your voice and dielistening to its marvellous cadences!"

Valentine, humoring the caprice of the demented man, said, in the mostenticing tone she could assume:

"You have guessed aright, oh! mortal! I am, indeed, Juno, the Queen ofthe goddesses of Mount Olympus! By the direct command of Jupiter I havesought you out this night!"

She came closer to him and took his hand. He raised hers to his lips anddevotedly kissed it. Then he gazed into her eyes like one entranced. Woman's wit and tenderness had triumphed. The maniac whom even themention of Zuleika's name had failed to touch was completely under Mme. Morrel's influence. She had subdued him; she could do with him as shewished. 

"A miracle! a miracle!" cried both the cicerones simultaneously. "TheBlessed Virgin be praised!"

Maximilian was not less astonished than the guides, but with hisastonishment joy and gratitude were mingled--joy that Giovanni was nowtractable and gratitude to his noble and fearless wife who had effectedthe wondrous transformation. He said to himself that Valentine was, indeed, an enchantress, but a modern Circe, who, unlike her ancientprototype, employed her spells and fascinations to promote good, results. He glanced at Valentine, with a smile of encouragement andapprobation, eagerly waiting for the next step she should take, for thenext audacious effort she should essay. 

Giovanni made no reply to Valentine's fantastic speech, and, afterpreserving silence for an instant, she resumed:

"I am here for your welfare, to aid you in your overwhelmingmisfortunes!"

"Ah! yes; I have misfortunes, but I had forgotten them, " said the youngman, musingly. 

"I am sent to relieve you of them, " continued Valentine. Then, throwinginto her voice its most persuasive quality, she added, fixing a magneticgaze upon the Viscount: "My mission is to take charge of you, to seethat you are restored to health and happiness. Come with me!"

"I will follow you, sweet vision, to the very end of the earth!" saidGiovanni, enthusiastically. 

Valentine hastily beckoned to her husband; he hurried to her and shewhispered in his ear:

"Send one of the guides for a coupé. We must not lose a single moment. Poor Massetti will follow me as a dog follows its master! While he isunder my influence it is imperative that he be removed to an asylumwhere he can be properly looked after and if possible cured. No doubtthe guides can tell you of such an institution. Use the utmost dispatch, Maximilian!"

The young soldier needed no repetition of these wise and humanitarianinjunctions. He gave the requisite directions and soon the desiredvehicle was in readiness without the Colosseum. Maximilian had alsoascertained the address of a proper curative institution. 

Meanwhile Valentine had continued to employ her successful tactics withthe Viscount, who every moment yielded to her more and more. When thecoupé was announced, she said to him:

"My chariot is waiting to convey you to my Olympian abode. Will you comewith me?"

"Your wishes are my laws, oh! beautiful goddess!" replied Giovanni. "Take me where you will, so that you do not desert me and leave me toperish in despair!"

Mme. Morrel led the unresisting young man to the coupé, Maximilian andthe guides following the pair at a short distance in order to guardagainst any unforeseen freak on the part of poor Massetti. There was nooccasion for their services, however, and the Viscount was soon safelyinstalled in the coupé with Valentine upon one side of him and herhusband upon the other. 

After a brief drive, during which Giovanni, who seemed to have lost allcomprehension of the presence of any one save Valentine, remainedquietly gazing at her, the vehicle drew up in front of the insaneasylum. 

Massetti was induced to enter the institution without the slightesttrouble. Maximilian thereupon made all the necessary arrangements, andthe young man was placed in comfortable quarters. The physician whoexamined him stated that his case was not beyond hope. 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE ISLE OF MONTE-CRISTO. 

At the appointed time the Count of Monte-Cristo and Zuleika, accompaniedby Ali, Peppino and Beppo, the two Italians attired in the travelinggarb of French servants, left Paris for Marseilles. On their arrival atthe latter city they proceeded immediately to the harbor, whereMonte-Cristo's yacht awaited them in obedience to instructionstelegraphed by the Count to the Captain of the craft, whose name wasVincenzo, and who was a son of Jacopo, the former smuggler, long incommand of the ill-fated Alcyon, lost in the frightful storm andvolcanic disturbance in the Mediterranean some years before. The presentyacht was a new and superb vessel, as fleet and as beautiful as a bird. It was fitted up in the most complete manner; the cabin, superblycarpeted and furnished, was hung with elaborately wrought, costlytapestry, while here and there on the walls were curiously arrayedclusters of ancient barbaric weapons gathered from the site of oldCarthage, the ruins of historic Babylon and even from the crumblingtombs of those redoubtable warriors who far back in the dim ages ofantiquity had defended distant Cathay against the incursions of thefierce Tartar hordes. The yacht was named the Haydée in honor of theloving and devoted Greek slave, the mother of Espérance and Zuleika, whohad filled such an important part in Monte-Cristo's life and had leftbehind her such tender memories. 

As soon as the Count and his little party were safely on board the craftit set sail, gliding swiftly out upon the wide, sparkling expanse ofwater. Monte-Cristo and Zuleika stood upon the deck, conversingpleasantly and enjoying the ever-changing panorama presented to theirgaze. The Haydée glided swiftly past the Île Ratonneau, conspicuous byreason of its towering lighthouse; then came the Pointe des Catalans, with its beach where Mercédès had once dwelt and where the unfortunatesailor Dantès had seen the light in her chamber window on that memorablenight when he was being conducted to captivity. At length a black andfrowning rock rose before them, surmounted by a gloomy fortress. As hecaught sight of this dismal crag, Monte-Cristo knitted his brows andthrough his clenched teeth muttered an imprecation upon the tyranny ofman. 

"What is it that so moves you, father?" asked Zuleika, in a soft voice, gazing solicitously into his face. 

"Look yonder, my child, " replied the Count, with strong emotion; "thefortress upon that rock is the accursed Château d' If!"

Zuleika glanced at the fortress with a feeling of terror and dread. Sheknew the story of her father's long imprisonment and keen suffering inthe dark dungeon of that forbidding pile, of his meetings with the AbbéFaria there and of his subsequent daring escape; but she knew nothing ofwhat had passed between the Abbé and the sailor Dantès relative to thefamous treasure concealed by Cardinal Spada within the grottoes of theIsle of Monte-Cristo, the treasure that diverted from the grasp of PopeAlexander VI. Had made the Count so enormously rich. On this topic herfather had never yet seen fit to enlighten her. The sight of the Châteaud' If made her shudder and turn pale, though at the same time itfascinated and enchained her. She clung closely to Monte-Cristo andsaid, tremulously:

"Oh! what a frightful place it is! My very heart is chilled by itsdismal aspect!"

"Dismal as it looks from here, my child, " returned the Count, "it is athousand times more so within! It is the chosen abode of gloom anddespair!"

He gently put his daughter from him and gave way to a profound reveriein which he remained plunged for some moments. All the details of hisimprisonment and the startling adventures that succeeded it passedthrough his mind in rapid review, and an ardent, irresistible desire torevisit the locality where he had unearthed Spada's millions took entirepossession of him. Suddenly he said to Captain Vincenzo:

"Make for the Isle of Monte-Cristo!"

"Aye, aye, Signor Count, " answered the Captain, and the necessary orderswere at once given. The Haydée, promptly obeying her helm, swung aboutswiftly and gracefully, instantly darting off in the direction of thefamous island. 

Zuleika, on hearing her father's command, cast upon him a look ofastonishment and anxiety. She had expected that they would proceeddirectly to Italy and this change in the yacht's course betokenedanother programme. 

"My child, " said the Count, divining her thoughts, "I propose to stop atthe Isle of Monte-Cristo only a few hours; the delay will not beimportant, especially as we can make up the time lost by crowding sail, while I wish to show you some spots intimately connected with my historythat will interest you. "

"I shall be delighted to visit the Isle of Monte-Cristo, father, "replied Zuleika. "I have heard so much about it and its wonders. Youhave a mansion there, have you not?"

The Count smiled, as he answered:

"Not exactly a mansion, Zuleika, but something that might be made toserve as a substitute for one did we need a temporary refuge, though Igreatly fear that from long neglect we shall find it at present in amost deplorable condition. "

Zuleika's curiosity was now considerably excited. What could thismysterious residence, or, as her father quaintly styled it, thissubstitute for a mansion be like? What knowledge she possessed of theIsle of Monte-Cristo had been derived from fragmentary recitals made toher by Mercédès and her son Albert de Morcerf, but as neither of theseinformants had ever set foot upon the island their information wasnecessarily very vague, though it made up in the marvellous what itlacked in distinctness. 

At length, towards afternoon, the rocky shore of the Isle ofMonte-Cristo became visible. The Count's visage brightened as he saw itand a thrill of pleasure passed through him. Though the Haydée was yetat a considerable distance he could plainly descry the lofty peak uponwhich he had stood and watched the smugglers depart in their tartane, LaJeune Amélie, on that eventful morning when, with his gun and pickaxe, he had started out to prosecute his search destined to be fraught withso much excitement and to be crowned with such a glorious, dazzlingresult. The golden sunlight fell full upon this peak and the surroundingmasses of stone, making them glitter as if encrusted with sparklingdiamonds of great price. Here and there grew olive trees and stuntedshrubs that stood out distinctly against the blue, cloudless sky; as theyacht drew nearer their green tints formed a striking contrast with theprevailing hue of the rocks, adding vastly to the picturesqueness of thewild and romantic scene presented. 

"How beautiful the island looks!" exclaimed Zuleika, enthusiastically, as she leaned against the bulwarks of the vessel and gazed out over thesea. 

"Yes, " replied Monte-Cristo, who was standing beside her, "it does, indeed, look beautiful from here, but a closer view will dispel thecharm for the island is nothing but a barren waste. "

"What! Is it a desert?" asked Zuleika, in surprise. 

"A perfect desert, my child, " answered the Count, "uncultivated anduninhabited. "

"Uninhabited!" cried Zuleika, gazing intently at the shore. "Icertainly see life there! Look! What was that?"

"A wild goat leaping from one rock to another, " returned Monte-Cristo, smiling. "The island is full of them. When I said it was uninhabited Imeant by human beings. "

The Haydée by this time had approached as near the island as possible;she was therefore anchored. The Count then ordered a boat lowered, intowhich he descended with Zuleika and Ali. A stout sailor took the rudder, two others grasped the oars, and, in a few minutes, a little cove wasgained and the disembarkation effected. 

"Men, " said the Count, addressing the sailors, "you can now row back tothe yacht. When you see me come upon the beach and wave my handkerchiefthrice, return for us. "

"Aye, aye, Signor Count, " answered the coxswain for the boat's crew. Hiswords were accompanied by the fall of the oars and the boat shot offtowards the Haydée. 

"You are now on the Isle of Monte-Cristo, " said the Count to Zuleika ashe took her hand to lead her forward. "Prepare to see what you havetermed its wonders!"

"They will, no doubt, prove wonders to me, at any rate, " returned thegirl, smiling. 

The Nubian stood before his master with uncovered head, respectfullywaiting for orders. 

"Go in advance, Ali, " said the Count, "and see that all is right. "

The Nubian made a profound salaam in oriental fashion and hastenedaway. 

The Count and his daughter leisurely followed. As they walked theydisturbed hosts of grasshoppers, that leaped with a whirring flutter ofwings from the bushes and fled before them. This amused Zuleika, but shecould not repress a cry of affright as now and then a green, repulsivelooking lizard emerged from under the loose stones beneath her very feetand shot hastily away in search of a more secure hiding-place. Occasionally, too, they saw wild goats that pricked up their ears andstared at them with wide open eyes, then gathering themselves for aspring bounded off up the rocks and vanished. 

At last Monte-Cristo and Zuleika came upon the Nubian, who had stoppedbeside a huge bowlder that seemed to have lain for ages where it hadfallen from the cliffs above. A thick, bushy growth of wild myrtle andflowering thorn had sprung up around it, and its surface was coveredwith emerald hued moss. The Count and his daughter also stopped, theformer glancing around him and at the vast stone with evidentsatisfaction. 

"Nothing has been touched since I was here last, " said he, as if tohimself; then, turning to Ali, he added: "Unmask the entrance to thegrottoes!"

The Nubian produced a rusty crowbar from some nook where he hadevidently concealed it in the past, thrusting the point beneath thebowlder; then he exerted a strong, steady pressure upon the crowbar andthe great rock slowly moved aside, disclosing a circular opening in themidst of which was a square flagstone bearing in its centre an ironring. Into this ring Ali inserted his crowbar and with a mighty effortraised the flagstone from its place. A stairway descending apparently tothe bowels of the earth was disclosed, and from the sombre depthsescaped a flow of damp, mephitic air. 

Zuleika drew back in affright. All that had passed since they came tothe bowlder was strange, bewildering and terrifying to her. Had the daysof enchantment returned? Was Ali some potent wizard like Aladdin'spretended uncle in the old Arabian tale or was she simply under thedominion of some disordered dream? Her knees trembled beneath her andshe moved as if to flee, but her father caught her by the arm and hissmiling countenance reassured her. 

"Fear nothing, Zuleika, " he said, soothingly. "We are about to visit mysubterranean palace. That is all. "

By this time the atmosphere of the stairway had become purified andMonte-Cristo said to Ali:

"Descend and light up the grottoes. When all is ready give the usualsignal. "

The faithful servant entered the opening and vanished down the stairway. Soon a delicious oriental perfume ascended. This was followed by a vividillumination of the gaping chasm and then came a long, reverberatingwhistle. 

"Ali notifies us that all is prepared for our reception, " saidMonte-Cristo to Zuleika. "Come, my daughter!"

He descended the stairway first, Zuleika following him in a state ofmind difficult to describe. She was not afraid now, but her sensationswere of an exceedingly peculiar nature. The novelty and singularity ofthe adventure rather attracted her, though, at the same time, she felt asort of reluctance to attempt it. However the opening was now as lightas day, and as they descended the intoxicating perfume increased inintensity until it was almost as if acres of tube-roses had suddenlybloomed and filled the caverns with their heavy fragrance. 

At the bottom of the stairway Ali received them, conducting them into avast chamber that had evidently once possessed great splendor, but wasat present dingy and dust-covered as if it had been long deserted. Itwas the apartment in which Monte-Cristo as Sinbad the Sailor hadwelcomed the Baron Franz d' Epinay years before, but the crimsonbrocade, worked with flowers of gold, though it still lined the chamberas it did then, was now faded and moth-eaten, while the Turkey carpet inwhich the Baron's feet had sunk to the instep, as well as the tapestryhanging in front of the doors, was in the same condition. The divan inthe recess had been riddled by worms and the silver scabbards of thestand of Arabian swords that surmounted it were tarnished, the gems inthe handles of the weapons alone retaining their brilliancy. The oncebeautiful lamp of Venice glass hanging from the ceiling, which Ali hadfilled and lighted, was also tarnished and its delicately shaped globewas cracked from top to bottom. Monte-Cristo sadly contemplated thisscene of ruin and decay, but he contemplated it only for a moment. Thenhe turned to Zuleika and said:

"My child, this was once my salon and its beauty riveted the eyes of allwho saw it, but I deserted it and time has done its work, aided byneglect--its beauty is no more! Shall I raise another ghost of the pastand show you its former occupant?"

"Surely, I see him before me, do I not?" said Zuleika, gazing tenderlyat her father. 

"Not as he was, my child, not as he was. Wait here a few moments, withmy faithful Ali as your guard and protector, and I will invoke thefantastic apparition!"

As he spoke he raised the faded tapestry, revealing the door leading tothe inner apartment; opening this door and closing it behind him he waslost to sight; the tapestry fell back to its place, masking the point ofentrance. 

After a brief absence he reappeared dressed in his famous Tunisiancostume, but that, alas! had also lost its pristine glory likeeverything else in this abandoned subterranean abode. Still the wreckswere there--the red cap with the long blue silk tassel; the vest ofblack cloth embroidered with gold; the pantaloons of deep red; thelarge, full gaiters of the same color, embroidered with gold like thevest; the yellow slippers; the cachemire around his waist, and thesmall, crooked cangiar passed through his girdle. 

Zuleika gazed at him in amazement. In his faded, tarnished, moth-eatenfinery he, indeed, looked like a fantastic apparition, a picturesqueghost of the past. 

"Come, Zuleika, " said he, "as I am in my festal attire let us visit thesalle-à-manger!"

He moved aside the tapestry once more and again opened the door leadingto the other apartment. Zuleika entered and the Count followed her, Aliremaining in the outer chamber to guard against surprise or intrusion. The marvellous salle-à-manger was precisely the same as the Baron d'Epinay had seen it. Here time seemed to have been defied. The marble ofwhich the magnificent apartment was built was as bright and beautiful asever, the antique bas-reliefs of priceless value were well preserved, and the four superb statues with baskets on their heads were yet intheir places in the corners of the oblong room and yet perfect, thoughno pyramids of splendid fruit now filled the baskets. In the centre ofthe salle-à-manger the dining-table still stood with its dishes ofsilver and plates of Japanese china. It was at this table that both theBaron d' Epinay and Maximilian Morrel had taken that wonderful greenpreparation, that key to the gate of divine dreams, the hatchis ofAlexandria, the hatchis of Abou-Gor. It was at this table thatMaximilian, when falling under the influence of the potent drug, hadcaught his first glimpse of his beloved Valentine after her supposeddeath; it was at this table that he had been reunited to her on awakingfrom his hatchis dream. It was in this room that Haydée had confessedher love for Monte-Cristo and had been taken to his heart. 

All these recollections came thronging upon the Count as he stood gazingabout him. The thought of Haydée almost melted him to tears, but heforced back the briny drops, and, taking Zuleika tenderly in his arms, cried out, in a voice full of emotion:

"Oh! Haydée, Haydée, I have lost you, but you live for me again in thisblessed treasure you have bequeathed to me--our darling daughter!"

Zuleika flung her arms about her father's neck and kissed him fervently. 

"I know not, " she said, effusively, "what memories, what associations, this room recalls, but it has made you think of my mother and I blessit!"

When they both had grown calmer, Monte-Cristo said to his daughter:

"There is yet another apartment for us to see. Let us go to it. "

They entered the adjoining chamber. It was a strangely furnishedapartment. Circular in shape it was surrounded by a large divan, which, as well as the walls, ceiling and floor, was covered with what had beenmagnificent skins of the large-maned lions of Atlas, striped Bengaltigers, spotted panthers of the Cape, bears of Siberia and foxes ofNorway, but all these elegant furs that were strewn in profusion, oneover another, had been eaten by moths and worms and rotted by thedampness until they scarcely held together. The divan was that uponwhich the Baron d' Epinay had reclined, and the chibougues, with jasminetubes and amber mouthpieces, that he had seen, prepared so that therewas no need to smoke the same pipe twice, were still in their places andwere the only things in the whole room that had escaped from the clutchof years unscathed. This chamber was brilliantly illuminated by theblaze of several large lamps of tarnished silver and gold suspended fromthe ceiling and protruding from the walls, and the salle-à-manger waslighted in the same fashion. 

Zuleika stood in the midst of all this decayed grandeur, lost in wonder, utterly bewildered by what she beheld. She spoke not a single syllable, for words were inadequate to express her deep amazement. 

Monte-Cristo threw himself upon the divan from which a cloud of stiflingdust arose. Taking one of the chibouques in which a supply of Turkishtobacco yet remained, he lighted it and began to smoke. 

Zuleika now saw that the heavy, delicious perfume with which the grottopalace was filled came from frankincense smouldering in a huge malachitevase placed in the centre of this bewildering chamber. 

After he had puffed a few whiffs of smoke from the chibouque, Monte-Cristo removed the amber mouthpiece from his lips and rising said:

"You have now seen my subterranean abode, Zuleika, the abode where inthe past I sought refuge from the world and solace for my woes. It seemsto you like the product of some potent magician's spell and, in truth, it was so, but that magician was good fortune and the spell was colossalwealth, to the vast and subtle influence of which all nations and alllands yield slavish submission and implicit obedience! You do not knowthe romantic, incredible history of this abode, my daughter, and it isnot my intention to relate it to you, for your youthful brain couldscarcely comprehend it. Be satisfied then with what you have beheld. Treasure it in your memory if you will either as a reality or merely asa passing vision, but do not, I conjure you, ever mention this adventureto me or any other living soul! I have had confidence in you, my child;repay that confidence by strictly obeying this wish, nay, this command, of mine! These grottoes belong to the past and to oblivion; to the pastand to oblivion, therefore, let them be consigned! Promise me to do as Idesire!"

Amazed by this strange speech, which the Count uttered in a voicetremulous with emotion, as much as by any of the inexplicable wondersshe had seen, Zuleika replied, in a tone full of agitation:

"I promise, solemnly promise, father, to fulfil your injunctions in thismatter to the very letter! I have a woman's curiosity and a woman'sinclination to gossip, " she added, with a faint smile, "but for yourdear sake I will repress them both, at least, so far as concerns thistruly marvellous subterranean palace and our visit to it to-day!"

"And you will keep your word, my noble child!" said Monte-Cristo, gazingtenderly and admiringly at her. "Now I will remove this Tunis dress inwhich I have been, without doubt, exceedingly ridiculous in your eyes, for you are altogether unacquainted with the associations that surroundit and endear it to me, dignify it, so to speak, beyond any othercostume I have ever worn!"

Zuleika lifted her hands in protest, exclaiming:

"You could not, dear father, appear ridiculous in my eyes, no matter inwhat garb you were clothed!"

Monte-Cristo smiled approvingly, but a trifle incredulously and quittedthe circular apartment. When he returned he was clad in the costume hehad worn on coming from the yacht. 

"Take a last look around you, Zuleika, " he said, in a tone he vainlyendeavored to render firm. "We are now about to quit this placeforever!"

He took her hand and led her from the room. Slowly and as if regretfullythey passed through the salle-à-manger and the apartment they had firstentered, gaining the stairway and preparing to ascend it. At the foot ofthe steps Monte-Cristo paused and turned to Ali. He was ghastly pale andtrembled slightly. With a powerful effort he, however, controlled hisagitation. 

"Ali, " said he, in a voice that sounded strangely in Zuleika's ear, "iseverything in readiness?"

The faithful Nubian, scarcely less affected than his master, bowedaffirmatively. 

"Then farewell, ye grottoes of Monte-Cristo!" cried the Count, excitedly. "Farewell forever!"

He hastily mounted the stairway, almost dragging Zuleika with him. Aliremained below. 

When they reached the open air they paused until the mute joined them;then the little party regained the beach, where Monte-Cristo waved hishandkerchief thrice. In obedience to this signal the boat immediatelyleft the yacht and was pulled swiftly to the shore. 

A few moments later the Count, Zuleika and Ali were safely deposited onthe Haydée's deck and the gallant little vessel turned her prow towardsthe Italian coast. 

Monte-Cristo and his daughter, with Ali at a short distance from them, stood closely watching the fast disappearing island. The Count was moreagitated and paler than he had yet been. Nervous tremors shook his frameand his teeth were firmly clenched. The usually impassible countenanceof the faithful Nubian mute wore an expression of blank horror. Zuleikagazed at her father and then at the servant. She knew not what to makeof their strange, inexplicable emotion. Placing her hand upon theCount's shoulder, she was about to speak to him, to endeavor to calm hisagitation, when suddenly there was a loud explosion on the Isle ofMonte-Cristo and a huge column of black smoke shot up into the air. 

The Count covered his face with his hands as if to shut out the sight. Ali fell prostrate upon the deck, pressing his contorted visage againsthis master's feet. 

"What was that, oh! father, what was that?" cried Zuleika, clinging tothe Count in wild alarm. 

"The subterranean palace of the Isle of Monte-Cristo is no more!" hereplied, sadly. "At my command it replaced with its magnificence therude and shapeless grottoes, at my command it has perished!"

As he spoke the rocky island was gradually lost to view in the distance, and the Haydée sped over the waves of the Mediterranean like someglorious water-fowl in full flight. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

ZULEIKA LEARNS THE TRUTH. 

Nothing occurred to impede the progress of the Haydée and, after a rapidand pleasant voyage, the beautiful craft cast anchor in the harbor ofCivita Vecchia, the principal seaport city of the Pontifical States, which owes its origin to the Emperor Trajan. The strict quarantineregulations of the place caused a brief delay, which Monte-Cristo andZuleika bore with ill-concealed impatience, but the period required bylaw for purification at length expired and the travelers were accordedofficial permission to proceed to Rome. Of this they immediately availedthemselves and in a short time were in the Eternal City comfortablyinstalled in the best apartments the Hôtel de France afforded. 

The Count's first care was to send his card to M. And Mme. Morrel, whoat once hastened to his parlor, where the most cordial greetings wereexchanged. That Monte-Cristo should be in Rome did not in the slightestdegree astonish Maximilian and Valentine, who were fully aware of hishabit of suddenly making his appearance in unexpected spots apparentlywithout motive, but the presence of Zuleika at this critical junctureboth surprised them and filled them with consternation. What answershould they make to her when she inquired concerning Giovanni? How wasthe fact of his sad condition to be kept from her when all Rome knew ofit and it was the current gossip of the city? Valentine had writtenseveral letters to the girl since quitting Paris, but in them had dealtonly in generalities; she had studiously refrained from informing her ofthe true state of things, hoping against hope that she would eventuallyhave some cheering intelligence to impart. The Count, however, speedilyrelieved the devoted husband and wife of their anxiety. He knew as wellas they that his daughter could not fail soon to learn that the Viscountwas a maniac and preferred to break the terrible news to her himself. Assoon, therefore, as the greetings were over, before Zuleika couldwhisper to Mme. Morrel the question that was trembling on her lips, thedreaded inquiry as to her lover and his whereabouts, he said, in a quiettone:

"Maximilian and Valentine, you, no doubt, wonder why we have come toRome, what is our business here. I will tell you. We have come to clearan unfortunate man, the Viscount Giovanni Massetti, of a fearful chargethat has long hung over him. "

M. And Mme. Morrel exchanged glances. Now was their time to speak, toavow their mission to Monte-Cristo. 

"Count, " said Maximilian, pointing to his wife, "we also came hither onthe same errand. Zuleika confessed her love for the young Italian toValentine, who extracted from her the nature of the charge to which youhave just alluded. Pardon us for having acted without yourauthorization, but we desired to succeed before confessing to you thepart we had taken in the affair. "

Monte-Cristo smiled. 

"You need no pardon from me, " he said, gently, much affected by thisproof of devotion to his daughter and through her to him; "on thecontrary you have my gratitude as well as Zuleika's! But what successhave you met with?"

"Alas! none of any moment as yet, " answered M. Morrel, sadly. 

"Such a result was to be expected, " returned the Count, gravely. "Youhad no evidence to establish Giovanni's innocence and it was impossiblefor you to obtain any. I have the evidence, conclusive evidence! Whenthe proper moment arrives I will produce it, remove the stain from hisname and confound his enemies!"

"Thank God!" simultaneously exclaimed M. And Mme. Morrel, Valentinetaking Zuleika in her arms, kissing her and clasping her to her bosom. 

"But, " continued Monte-Cristo, glancing anxiously at his daughter, "theunfortunate young man must first be taken in hand and cured!"

Maximilian and Valentine again exchanged glances. They felt relieved. The Count knew all. He was making the disclosure gradually, considerately. They silently waited for further developments, holdingtheir breath. Valentine's heart beat almost audibly. Zuleika startedfrom her arms and gazed at her father with anxious, astonished eyes. 

"Cured?" she repeated, in a tremulous voice. "Is Giovanni ill?"

"He is, my child, " answered the Count. 

What would he say next? How much was he going to disclose? Surely notthe whole of the dreadful truth! These thoughts shot like lightningthrough the minds of M. And Mme. Morrel. Maximilian stood like a statue, motionless, pale, gazing upon Monte-Cristo as a condemned criminal gazesupon his executioner. Valentine seized her husband's hand and held itlike a vise. 

Zuleika stared at the Morrels; she could not understand their action, their breathless interest. Then her glance reverted to her father and, for the first time, she saw that, notwithstanding his apparent calmness, he, too, was under the dominion of some intense emotion. 

"Father!" she cried, clasping her hands appealingly, "what do you mean?You say that Giovanni is ill, but your look expresses more than yourwords! With what fearful malady has he been stricken? Tell me, I conjureyou! I will be strong--I will bear it!"

"My child, " said the Count, in a solemn tone, "then summon all yourcourage, all your firmness to your aid! Young Massetti, overwhelmed byhis troubles, has fallen a prey to a mental disease!"

"Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" groaned Zuleika, in anguish, "do you mean to saythat he has lost his mind, that he is a lunatic?"

"Such, alas! is the case! But, my daughter, trust in me! I will findhim and science will effect his cure!"

The poor girl, stunned by the terrible intelligence of her lover'scondition, stood for an instant with her eyes stonily fixed upon herfather. Tears refused to come to her relief. Then she tottered, staggered as if she had been suddenly struck with a heavy missile, andfell fainting into Valentine's outstretched arms. Maximilian assistedhis wife to place her in a fauteuil, after which he seized the bellcord. 

"For what are you going to ring?" asked Monte-Cristo, who had hurried tohis daughter's side. 

"For brandy, " answered M. Morrel, his hand still on the cord. "It willrevive her. "

"Never mind the brandy, " returned the Count, as he took a small vialcontaining a red-looking fluid from his pocket and, opening Zuleika'smouth, poured eight drops of the liquid down her throat. "This is theAbbé Faria's elixir, a potent remedy that never yet failed of effect! Itwill work like a charm! See! It is already doing its office!"

As he uttered these words Zuleika moved slightly in the fauteuil, thenopened her eyes and gazed about her in bewilderment. Almost immediately, however, she realized that she had swooned and a full sense of herfather's terrible though considerately made revelation returned to her. She buried her face in her hands, quivered from head to foot, and thenthe glistening drops trickling through her fingers told that the tearshad at last come to calm her. Valentine bent over her, gently strokingher raven hair and endeavoring in a womanly way to soothe her, whilethe Count and Maximilian looked on with anxious countenances, waitingfor Mme. Morrel's touch and influence to do their work. 

Suddenly Zuleika removed her hands from her tear-bathed visage, straightened herself up in the fauteuil and, fixing her glance onMonte-Cristo, said, in a low, faint and gasping tone that betrayed thedepth, the intensity, of her emotion:

"Father, you spoke of finding Giovanni! Has he disappeared?"

The Count compressed his lips, hesitating to reply. He wished to keepback as much of the dread truth as possible. He feared the effect uponhis daughter of the startling announcement that young Massetti waswandering about amid the ruins of the Colosseum like a second King Learon the blasted heath. But Maximilian came quickly to his aid. 

"There is no need to find the Viscount, " he said. "He has already beenfound and is at present under treatment in a suitable institution, wherehe is both comfortable and contented. "

Zuleika cast a grateful look at M. And Mme. Morrel. Monte-Cristo seizedMaximilian's hand and pressed it warmly. 

"You have done this, my friend, " said he, his countenance brightening, "and I thank you for it!"

"Do not thank me, " replied the husband, gazing fondly and admiringly athis wife; "thank Valentine, for she it was who formed the plan andsuccessfully carried it into execution!"

Mme. Morrel cast down her eyes and a heightened color overspread hercharming face. 

"You are an angel, Valentine!" exclaimed Monte-Cristo, enthusiastically. "Maximilian said awhile ago that no success of any moment had as yetcrowned your united efforts, but his statement was too modest. Yoursuccess has been conspicuous; you have taken the first step that Idesigned making and simplified my task to a marked degree. I am deeplyindebted to you both. "

M. And Mme. Morrel lifted their hands and shook their heads in protest. 

"The debt is all on our side, " said Maximilian, deprecatingly, "and nomatter what we may do we can never discharge it. We owe you thehappiness of our lives!"

Monte-Cristo turned the conversation; he took but little credit tohimself for the benefits he had conferred upon his fellow-creatures, considering that every good action on his part went towards atoning forthe terrible catastrophes he had caused in the prosecution of hisrelentless vengeance against his old-time enemies. 

"Tell me, " said he, addressing M. Morrel, "what is the Viscount'spresent condition. Is he recovering?"

Maximilian looked hastily in the direction of Zuleika; the poor girl wasintently watching him, eagerly waiting for his answer. His voice wassomewhat unsteady as he replied:

"Ever since he was placed in the institution of which I told you he hasreceived the closest and most skilful care, but his progress is veryslow, almost imperceptible, though the physician who is ministering tohim has never ceased to assure us that he will ultimately regain thefull possession of his health and senses. "

"Oh! take me to him, take me to him at once!" cried Zuleika, starting toher feet. "My place is by his side! I will nurse him, I will cure him!"

Monte-Cristo glanced at Maximilian, who shook his head negatively andwhispered in the Count's ear:

"It will never do to take her to him now; the shock of seeing him wouldbe too great! He would not even recognize her--he recognizes no one!"

Zuleika divined enough of what was passing to realize that Maximilianopposed her wishes, was striving to prevent her from going to her lover, from ministering to his wants. She sprang to her father, clasped herarms about his neck, and, looking pitifully and pleadingly into hisface, exclaimed:

"Oh! take me to Giovanni, take me to him! Do not deny your loving, dutiful daughter's most earnest prayer! Do not deny it, oh! my belovedfather, do not deny it!"

Monte-Cristo was touched to the very depths of his soul; M. And Mme. Morrel were equally affected. The Count, however, instantly decided whatwas to be done. Tenderly, compassionately, embracing his daughter, hesaid to her, in a soothing voice:

"My child, for the present it is best that you do not go to Giovanni. Iwill see him for you and without delay put a plan in operation that I donot doubt will result in his speedy cure. I know a wondrous physicianwhose skill is so great that he can almost restore the dead to life. Hebelongs to the despised race of Jews, but is a good as well as amarvellous man. His name is Dr. Israel Absalom and he resides here inRome, within the walls of the shunned and execrated Ghetto, near theCapitoline Mount. I will go to him at once and take him to youngMassetti. My daughter, rest assumed that this learned Hebrew will workanother miracle and give your lover back to you and in all the glory ofhis mind and manhood! Be content, therefore, to remain where you are fora brief period, with our devoted friend Valentine as your companion andcomforter. "

"Yes, Zuleika, " said Mme. Morrel, persuasively, "be content to remainwith me. I will not quit you even for an instant. We will talk ofGiovanni, of the happiness and joy the future has in store for both ofyou, and, believe me, the hours will pass on rapid wings!"

As Valentine spoke she gently disengaged the girl from her father's neckand passed her arm lovingly around her slender waist. Zuleika's headsank upon her friend's shoulder. 

"I yield to my father's solicitations and to your own, Valentine, " shesaid, submissively. "You are older and wiser than I am and what you sayis without doubt for the best. I will remain and trust to the wondrousphysician. "

"I have heard a great deal of this Dr. Absalom since I have been inRome, " said M. Morrel, addressing Monte-Cristo. "The common peopleregard him as a magician and the higher classes as a cunning charlatan, but, if his legitimate scientific skill is generally denied, hisbrilliant and marvellous success, even in cases that the best Romanphysicians have abandoned as hopeless, is universally admitted. "

"Dr. Absalom is neither a magician nor a charlatan, " answeredMonte-Cristo, warmly, "but a physician of the utmost experience and ofthe highest possible attainments. He is bent beneath the weight of yearsand arduous study, yet his eye is as keen and his perception as acute asif he were a youth of twenty. No man knows either his age or hishistory. I met him long ago in Athens, where I had the good fortune torescue him from the clutches of a howling mob of ruffians who had seizedupon him and were about to slay him as a sorcerer because he had takeninto his hut and cured of the plague a wretched Greek who had been castinto the streets to die! For my sake he will save Giovanni!"

"But, " said Maximilian, as a sudden thought occurred to him and filledhim with dismay, "Dr. Absalom can practise outside of the Ghetto only bystealth and at the risk of being thrown into prison! He will not beallowed to visit the Viscount Massetti!"

The Count of Monte-Cristo drew himself up proudly and his peculiar smilepassed over his countenance. 

"I will take care of that!" he said, impressively. 

Zuleika was left with Mme. Morrel, and, accompanied by Maximilian, Monte-Cristo at once started for the Ghetto. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE WONDROUS PHYSICIAN. 

A brisk walk of half an hour brought the Count and his companion to oneof the two gates in the wall of the Ghetto or Jews' quarter of Rome. Monte-Cristo knocked at a wicket and a policeman immediately appeared. He was a young man and wore a military dress. His coat was buttoned tothe throat, a yellow cord and tassel gracefully looped over the breast. His hands were encased in white cotton gloves, a helmet adorned withbrass was upon his head and at his side hung a sword, while on thecollar of his coat the number of his regiment shone in gilt figures. Theman's bearing was soldierly and he had evidently seen service in thefield. The Count addressed him in Italian, informing him that he and M. Morrel desired to visit the Ghetto, at the same time exhibiting theirpassports. After examining the papers and seeing that they were inproper form the policeman opened the gate and the visitors entered thecrowded and filthy precincts of the Jews' quarter. 

"Mon Dieu! what vile odors!" exclaimed M. Morrel, placing hishandkerchief saturated with cologne to his nose, as they hurried throughthe narrow, garbage-encumbered lanes. 

"The atmosphere is not like that of a perfumer's shop!" replied theCount, laughing. "But it seems to suit the children of Israel, for theythrive and multiply in it as the sparrows in the pure air and greenfields of England!"

"I pity them!" said Maximilian. 

"Tastes differ, " returned Monte-Cristo, philosophically. "I will wagerthat in this whole quarter we could not find a single Jew who would eata partridge in that state of partial decay in which a Frenchman deems itmost palatable!"

"What a strange, uncouth place this is, " said M. Morrel, after a briefsilence. "It seems like some city of the far orient. No one, suddenlytransported here, would ever imagine that he was in the heart of Rome. "

"It closely resembles the Judengasse at Frankfort-on-the-Main, " repliedthe Count, "and is quite as ancient though much larger. But the Germansare more progressive and liberal than the Romans, for the gates thatclosed the Judengasse were removed in 1806, while those of the Ghettostill remain and are, as you have seen, in charge of the police, whosubject every person entering or quitting the place to the closestscrutiny. Even as far back as the 17th century the gates of theJudengasse were shut and locked only at nightfall, after which no Jewcould venture into any other part of Frankfort without incurring a heavypenalty if caught, whereas here at the present time, in this age ofenlightenment and religious toleration, the gates of the Ghetto are keptclosed day and night, and the poor Israelites, victims of bigotry andunreasoning prejudice, are treated worse than the pariahs in Hindoostan!Rome is the Eternal City and verily its faults are as eternal asitself!"

Monte-Cristo had evidently visited the Ghetto before, as he seemedthoroughly familiar with its crooked lanes and obscure byways, pursuinghis course without hesitation or pause for inquiry. It apparentlycontained no new sights or surprises for him. To M. Morrel, on thecontrary, who now was within its walls for the first time, it presentedan unending series of wonders. The buildings particularly impressed him. They looked as if erected away back in remote antiquity, and werecuriously quaint combinations of wood and stone, exceedingly picturesquein appearance. Most of them were not more than eight or ten feet wideand towered to a height of four stories, resembling dwarfed steeplesrather than houses. Not a new or modern edifice was to be seen in anydirection. Many of the buildings were in a ruinous condition and someseemed actually about to crumble to pieces, while here and there greatpiles of shapeless rubbish marked the spots where others had fallen. Asthey were passing one of these piles, much larger than the rest, Maximilian called Monte-Cristo's attention to it. The Count glanced atit and said:

"That was once the dwelling of old Isaac Nabal, known to his people asIsaac the Moneylender, but styled by the Romans Isaac the Usurer. He wasenormously rich and loaned his gold at exorbitant rates to theextravagant and impecunious Roman nobles. Isaac was wifeless andchildless, but so eager for gain was he that he kept his houseconstantly filled with lodgers. The house was perhaps the oldest in allthe Ghetto. Strange noises were heard in it every night occasioned bythe falling of plaster or partition walls. It was no uncommon thing fora lodger to be suddenly roused from his sleep by a crash and findhimself bruised and bleeding. Still old Isaac sturdily refused to makerepairs. He asserted that the rickety edifice would last as long as hedid, and he was not wrong, for one night it came down bodily about hisears and he perished amid the ruins together with thirty others, all whowere in the aged rookery at the time. This catastrophe happened twentyyears ago. "

"Do the houses often fall here?" asked M. Morrel, glancing uneasilyaround him at the dilapidated buildings. 

"Very often, " answered the Count. "Age and decay will bring them alldown sooner or later. "

"Then for Heaven's sake let us hasten lest we be crushed beneath somesudden wreck!" said Maximilian. "The houses project over the street atthe upper stories until they almost join each other in mid air. If oneshould fall there would be no escape!"

"Have no fear, Maximilian!" replied Monte-Cristo, smiling. "A famousastrologer once assured me that I bore a charmed life, and if I escapeyou will also!"

The ground floors of the houses were for the most part occupied as shopsof various kinds and the upper portions used as dwellings. Jewishmerchants stood at the doors of the shops and Jewish women, some of themvery beautiful, were occasionally seen at the upper windows. The streetswere thronged with pedestrians of both sexes and here and there groupsof chubby, black-haired children were at play. 

Maximilian was amazed to notice that most of the men they met took offtheir hats to Monte-Cristo and that some of them saluted him by name. 

"You appear to be pretty well known to the Israelites, " said he, atlength. 

"Yes, " answered the Count, "many of them know me. I have had frequentoccasion to consult with them on matters of importance. They are ashrewd and trusty people. "

By this time Monte-Cristo and M. Morrel had reached a lane narrower anddarker than any they had yet traversed. Into this the Count turned andafter he had taken his companion a short distance stopped in front of adingy but well-preserved building. It differed from its neighbors inhaving no shop on the ground floor and in being tightly closed frombottom to top. It looked as if it were uninhabited. 

"We have reached our destination, " said Monte-Cristo. "This is theresidence of Dr. Absalom. "

Maximilian stared at him in astonishment. 

"The house is deserted, " said he. "Are you not mistaken?"

"No. This is the place. "

"I fear then that the physician has left it and perhaps also theGhetto. "

Monte-Cristo smiled. 

"You do not know him, " he said. "His habits and manner of living arevery peculiar. Prepare to be greatly surprised!"

Thus speaking he went to the door of the tightly-closed dwelling andstruck five loud raps upon it, three very quickly and two very slowlydelivered. The sounds seemed to reverberate through the house as if itwere not only uninhabited but also unfurnished. Several minutes elapsedbut no response was heard to Monte-Cristo's signal, no one came inobedience to his summons. The Count held his watch in his hand and hiseyes were riveted upon the dial. 

M. Morrel grew slightly impatient; he said to his companion, triumphantly:

"I told you that the house was deserted and I was right!"

The Count smiled again, but made no reply, still keeping his eyes fixedon the dial of his watch. 

"Ten minutes!" said he, and he repeated his signal, but this time struckonly three rapid blows. As before no answer was returned. 

Maximilian was much interested and not a little amused, the Count'sproceedings were so singular. 

"Fifteen minutes!" said Monte-Cristo at length, putting up his watch andgiving one long, resounding rap upon the door. 

The effect was instantaneous. The portal swung open through some unseeninfluence, as if by magic, disclosing a long, bare, gloomy corridor, butnot a sign of human life was visible. 

M. Morrel's interest and amusement changed to wonder and amazement; hewas thoroughly mystified and bewildered. 

"The common people of Rome are not very far astray in their estimate ofthis Dr. Absalom!" he muttered. "This certainly looks as if the man werea magician!"

"Pshaw!" returned Monte-Cristo, with a display of impatience he rarelyexhibited. "The learned Hebrew is compelled to take his precautions;that is all. Follow me, and no matter what you may see or hear, if youwish our enterprise to be crowned with success utter not a word, not asound, until I give you permission!"

The Count entered the corridor, followed by his perplexed and astoundedfriend. Immediately the door closed noiselessly behind them and theyfound themselves amid thick darkness. Monte-Cristo took M. Morrel by thehand, leading him forward until their progress was completely barred bywhat appeared to be the end of the corridor. Here the Count paused andsaid some words in Hebrew. A faint response came promptly from beyondthe corridor in the same language, and immediately the light of a lampflashed upon the visitors. A door had opened and on the threshold stoodthe strangest looking specimen of humanity Maximilian had ever beheld. The new comer was a very aged man, with stooped shoulders, a long whitebeard that reached to his waist and a profusion of snowy hair thatescaped from beneath a cap of purple velvet at the side of which hung abright crimson tassel. He wore a long Persian caftan of pink satin, profusely and beautifully embroidered with gold, full oriental trousersof red velvet and elaborately adorned slippers of tiger skin. On hislong, bony fingers sparkled several diamond rings undoubtedly of immensevalue and a cluster of brilliant emeralds magnificently set in goldadorned his breast. This singular vision of eastern luxury, wealth andsumptuousness held the lamp, which was of wrought bronze and resembledthose found among the ruins of ancient Pompeii, above his head and byits light Maximilian could see that his eyes were keen and piercing andthat his countenance betokened the highest intellectuality. 

"Who is it that thus summons the sage from his meditations?" asked theold man, in a remarkably youthful voice. This time he spoke in Italian. 

"One who served you in the past, oh! Dr. Absalom, " replied Monte-Cristo, also using the language of Italy, "and who now solicits a service of youin return. Remember the mob of Athens and the Frank who interposed tosave you from destruction!"

The old man lowered his lamp and held it close to his famous visitor'sface; then he joyfully exclaimed:

"Welcome, Edmond Dantès, Count of Monte-Cristo! Welcome to the abode ofyour devoted servant Israel Absalom! Whatever he can do to serve youshall be done, no matter at what cost!"

Then, for the first time, he observed that the Count was not alone andfixed his keen eyes on M. Morrel with a look of suspicion and inquiry. 

"One of my dearest friends, M. Maximilian Morrel, Captain in the Armyof France, " said Monte-Cristo, in answer to this look. "You can have asfull confidence in him as in me. "

Dr. Absalom bowed profoundly to M. Morrel, and without another word ledthe way to an inner apartment. It was a vast chamber, closed like thefront of the house, brilliantly illuminated by a huge chandeliersuspended from the ceiling in which burned twenty wax candles of varioushues. The room was provided with all the apparatus and paraphernalia ofa chemist's laboratory of modern days, also containing many strangeinstruments and machines such as aided the researches and labors of theold-time disciples of alchemy. 

In the centre of the apartment stood a vast table covered with giganticparchment-bound tomes and rolls of yellow manuscript. Behind this tablewas a huge, high-backed chair of elaborate antique workmanshipresembling the throne of some Asiatic sovereign of the remote past. Inthis chair the physician seated himself after having installed hisvisitors each upon a commodious and comfortable Turkish divan. 

Maximilian noticed that the floor of the room was covered with soft andelegant Persian rugs and that the walls were hung with exquisitelybeautiful tapestry. Monte-Cristo had warned him to prepare to be greatlysurprised, but Dr. Absalom's lavish display of wealth, luxury and tastein the midst of the filthy, dilapidated Ghetto, nevertheless, absolutelystunned him. The Count had also cautioned him not to speak without hispermission--a useless injunction, for the young Frenchman was too muchamazed to utter a syllable. 

After seating himself the Hebrew sage, who seemed to be a man ofbusiness as well as of science, requested the Count to state in what hecould serve him. Thereupon Monte-Cristo succinctly related the historyof the Viscount Massetti, told of his mental malady, his confinement inthe insane asylum and ended by asking the physician if he could andwould cure him. 

"I have already heard somewhat of this unfortunate young man, " repliedDr. Absalom, "and the fact of his insanity was also imparted to me, butbefore expressing an opinion as to what my science can do in his case, Imust have the particulars. "

The Count motioned to M. Morrel, who, having by this time partiallyrecovered from his bewilderment, at once proceeded to give the agedHebrew the information he required. When he had concluded Dr. Absalomsaid, in a quiet, confident tone:

"Count of Monte-Cristo, the case is plain. I can and will cure thisstricken young Italian!"

"I was sure of it!" cried the Count, joyously and triumphantly. M. Morrel was not less delighted, but, at the same time, he could not feelas confident as his friend of the Jew's ability to perform his promise. 

The physician spoke a few words in Hebrew to Monte-Cristo. The reply ofthe latter seemed to give him entire satisfaction, for he said inItalian:

"In that event there will be no opposition from either the authoritiesof Rome or those of the insane asylum. I will be at the asylum at noonto-morrow, fully prepared to restore Massetti to health and reason!"

The Count and Maximilian arose and bidding the sage adieu were conductedby him to the corridor. They were soon in the street and made their wayout of the Ghetto as speedily as possible. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

A MODERN MIRACLE. 

Monte-Cristo, whose power and influence seemed to be absolutelyboundless, presented himself on the following morning at the insaneasylum where the Viscount Massetti was under treatment armed with apermit from the Papal Secretary of State, Cardinal Monti, for the Hebrewphysician, Dr. Israel Absalom, to assume charge of the case of the noblepatient. The director of the institution shrugged his shoulders whenthis permit was exhibited to him by M. Morrel, who had accompanied theCount for the purpose of introducing him to that official. 

"Messieurs, " said he, in very good French, "I am bound to respect thispaper, but I solemnly protest against trusting the patient to thisHebrew charlatan and wash my hands of all responsibility in thepremises!"

"M. The director, " replied Monte-Cristo, in a dignified tone, "notwithstanding the repeated assertion of your physician who has beenin charge of young Massetti ever since his arrival here that his maladywas entirely curable, he has made but little if any progress with thesufferer, who to-day is still insane. Dr. Absalom, even though he be acharlatan as you maintain, but which, if you will pardon me, I mustdecline to admit, could not make a more conspicuous and completefailure!"

"M. The Count, " said the director, coldly, evidently not relishingMonte-Cristo's bluntness, "all that the most advanced science can do hasbeen done. Insanity is a disease slow and difficult of cure; time isrequired to produce results and it will be fully a year before theViscount can, even under the most favorable circumstances, be thoroughlyrestored. "

"Your experience entitles your opinion to respect, " returned the Count, with equal coldness, "but still I cannot accept that opinion as final. "

"As you please, " said the official, haughtily. "After your Jewishphysician, if he really be such, has vainly administered his nostrumsand ineffectually mumbled his incantations, you will be glad enough tohave the regular practitioner of the asylum resume the functions ofwhich you now see fit so summarily to deprive him. "

"Perhaps, " answered the Count, smiling. "It is part of my creed never todespise science in whatever form it may come!"

The director bowed with satirical politeness. 

At noon precisely Dr. Absalom arrived. He had discarded his gaudy andfantastic attire of the previous day and appeared in the ordinary streetdress of a European. If he had seemed imposing to Maximilian at hishouse in the Ghetto, he looked still more imposing to him now, shorn ashe was of all oriental accessories and depending for effect upon thewondrous intellectual aspect of his countenance alone. The only articleof luxury he had about him was a massive gold-headed cane on which hisyears caused him to lean heavily. 

Monte-Cristo and M. Morrel received him with the utmost courtesy anddeference, but the director hardly noticed him and with difficultyconcealed his disgust. The Hebrew sage, however, was used to the uncivilmanner in which the Italians treated the people of his nation and showednot the faintest sign of displeasure, though the Count and Maximiliancould scarcely restrain themselves from resenting the official'sinsulting behavior. 

Without delay Dr. Absalom was conducted to young Massetti's chamber bythe physician who up to that time had attended the patient. He was anelderly man, but though an Italian showed marked respect for the aged, noble-looking Hebrew. Monte-Cristo and M. Morrel accompanied the twosavants, the former confident in Dr. Absalom's power to perform hispromise, the latter hoping for his success, yet doubtful of it. 

As the party entered the apartment of the maniac the Italian physiciansaid to his Jewish confrère:

"Dr. Absalom, I would very much like to witness your mode of treatment. Will you kindly permit me to remain in the room?"

"Certainly, " replied the Hebrew. "I have nothing whatever to conceal;but, " he added, with twinkling eyes, "I warn you in advance that youwill be no wiser after you have witnessed my operations and their resultthan you are at present!"

The Viscount was sitting in a large arm-chair, his face buried in hishands. At the entrance of the four men he murmured, without looking up:

"Why has the beautiful vision left me? Why does the divine Juno deny methe light of her presence?"

Dr. Absalom glanced inquiringly at his companions. 

"He means Valentine, my wife, " explained Maximilian. "She resorted to apardonable little artifice to lure him hither. "

"Let her be sent for at once, " said the Hebrew. "I shall have need ofher. "

"But, " objected Monte-Cristo, "Mme. Morrel is taking charge of mydaughter, this poor young man's betrothed, who is terribly cast down byher lover's fearful misfortune and cannot be left alone. "

"His betrothed!" exclaimed Dr. Absalom. "Better and better! Let her alsobe brought! I shall have need of her too!"

"You shall be obeyed, Doctor, " said Monte-Cristo, and M. Morrel was atonce dispatched to the Hôtel de France with instructions to returnimmediately with his wife and Zuleika. 

When they had arrived and their presence in an adjoining apartment wasannounced to Dr. Absalom by Maximilian, the Hebrew said:

"M. Morrel, kindly conduct your wife hither, and you, M. The Count, goto your daughter and remain with her until I summon you. Tell the poorchild to be of good cheer! that her lover shall be restored to her!"

Monte-Cristo quitted the chamber, followed by Maximilian, who instantlycame back with Valentine. 

"Mme. Morrel, " said the Jewish physician, "go to the patient and takehis hand. "

Valentine did as directed. At her touch the Viscount started up, exclaiming, in tones of the utmost delight:

"Divine Juno, pardon me! I have wronged you! I thought you had desertedme, but I was in error, for you are here!"

He fixed his eyes upon her, gazing at her like one entranced, paying noheed whatever to the others in the apartment. Valentine glanced at Dr. Absalom, who slowly left his place, gliding stealthily to Massetti'sside. Erecting himself to his full height, he extended his hands aboveGiovanni's head; almost instantly the demented man sank back into hischair as if pressed down by some colossal, some irresistible force; thenhe closed his eyes, falling into a calm, peaceful slumber. Valentine, released from his clasp, stood looking on, lost in speechless wonder. Maximilian was also amazed at this prompt exhibition of the Hebrew'spower, but the Italian physician, who had been intently watching, whispered in his ear:

"The Jew is a mesmerist; that is all; at least, all that has beendeveloped so far!"

Meanwhile Dr. Absalom continued to hold his hands above the patient'shead that drooped more and more until it finally sank upon his breast. For a moment longer the Hebrew maintained his position; then he withdrewhis hands, taking a small vial from the pocket of his coat and uncorkingit; immediately a powerful and subtle odor pervaded the apartment, causing Valentine, Maximilian and the Italian physician to breathepainfully, as if stifling. 

"What is it?" gasped M. Morrel, catching the Italian by the arm. 

"I do not know, " answered the latter. "But look at Massetti--his face isviolet, the preliminary hue of death! If the Jew kills the patientnothing can save him from the fury of the Roman populace!"

The subtle odor increased in intensity and the Viscount's face changedfrom violet to an ashen paleness. 

"He is dead!" cried the Italian. "Dr. Absalom, you are a murderer!"

The Hebrew waved his hand commandingly and, with a look of the utmostdignity and sternness, said:

"Be silent and wait!"

He corked the vial, replaced it in his pocket and opened a window. Thefresh air flooded the place and gradually the oppressive odor vanished. 

The patient was yet of a ghastly pallor. Dr. Absalom felt his pulse, counting the beats by his watch. A smile of satisfaction overspread hisintellectual countenance. 

"The remedy has done its work!" he said. "Now for the second and vitalapplication! Whatever may happen, " he added, impressively, turning tothe Italian physician, "I charge you on your life not to interfere orinterrupt me!"

Producing another vial, larger than the first, he held it aloft andshook it, examining its contents with the closest scrutiny. The deeplyinterested and somewhat awed observers saw a bright green fluid flashin the sunlight. Satisfied with his examination, the Hebrew uncorked thevial; then, opening the patient's mouth, he poured the emerald liquidgradually down his throat, drop by drop. For some seconds after this nochange in Massetti was perceptible. He still sat sleeping in his chairwith his head bowed, and the ghastly hue of his visage remainedunaltered. Dr. Absalom had again drawn his watch from his fob, dividinghis attention between noting the flight of time and intently observingthe patient. So profound was the silence in the room that the regulartick of the watch was distinctly audible in all parts of it. 

Suddenly Giovanni began to quiver. A violent convulsion followed, shaking him from head to foot and fearfully contorting his face, hishands curling up like a strip of paper that has been scraped with aknife. His condition was frightful to behold. Maximilian and the Italianlooked on anxiously, holding their breath. Valentine unable to bear thesight turned away, emotion and terror contending within her for themastery. The Hebrew, however, was all nerve and confidence. When aquarter of an hour had elapsed he put up his watch. Massetti'sconvulsion had passed away, his hands had uncurled and his unearthlypallor had been succeeded by a faint flush. He reclined in his chair asif wrapped in a healthful slumber. Presently his lips parted. 

"Zuleika!" he murmured. "Oh! my beloved!"

Dr. Absalom glanced at the Italian physician significantly, triumphantly. 

"The patient is dreaming, " he said, "and it is a good sign--he isdreaming of his betrothed whom in his insanity he had entirelyforgotten--another good sign! My treatment is working! I shall succeed!"Turning to Maximilian, he added: "Aid me to place the Viscount upon hisbed, if you please. "

M. Morrel complied with alacrity and Massetti was immediately extendedon his couch in a comfortable position. Dr. Absalom again felt hispulse, counting it as before by his watch; then he said:

"The patient may now awake at any time, but it is probable that fifteenminutes will first elapse. Let the Count and his daughter be summoned. "

Maximilian opened the door and beckoned without. Monte-Cristo andZuleika entered. 

"My child, " said the Hebrew, taking the latter by the hand and leadingher to her lover's bedside, "look upon your betrothed! He is sleepingpeacefully and dreaming of you! Awhile ago he uttered your name!Courage, daughter, courage! The worst is over! The clouds are sweepingfrom the young man's mind to leave it clear and perfect! Remain herewhere I place you! It is important that upon awaking the patient's eyesshall rest on you!"

Zuleika, astounded, bewildered, gazed at her lover and with difficultyresisted the impulse to cast herself upon his neck. 

Monte-Cristo, Maximilian, Valentine and the Italian physician groupedthemselves a short distance away, waiting and watching. Their eagernessand anxiety were intense. 

Five minutes, ten minutes passed, then fifteen. As Dr. Absalom's watchtold the quarter of an hour, the Viscount all at once opened his eyes. They rested on Zuleika. The anxious interest of the spectators was nowat the highest pitch. The Count, M. Morrel, Valentine and the Italianleaned forward breathlessly. Giovanni put his hand to his brow, uttereda low sigh and then sat up, gazing at Monte-Cristo's daughter inbewilderment. At last he spoke. 

"Zuleika, darling Zuleika!" he said, faintly, but very tenderly, at thesame time extending his arms towards her. The girl glanced at Dr. Absalom. He pointed to Giovanni and smiled. She instantly comprehendedhis permission and threw herself into her lover's embrace. 

"Giovanni, dear Giovanni, " she murmured, "you are yourself again, areyou not?"

"Myself, Zuleika? Have I ever been otherwise?"

"You have been very ill, Giovanni. "

"Ah! yes. That is the reason I am here. " Glancing around him he added:"There is your father, too, but who are those strangers with him?"

"The physicians, and two of our most devoted friends, M. Morrel and hiswife. "

The Viscount sank back upon the couch and took Zuleika's hand in his, clasping it warmly. 

"I feel faint and feeble, " he said, "oh! so very faint and feeble, but aterrible, crushing weight seems to have been removed from my brain!"

He spoke rationally. Dr. Absalom had worked a modern miracle--the youngman's reason was fully restored!

The Count and Maximilian exchanged glances of delight. Valentine's eyeswere wet with tears of joy. As for Zuleika, her cup of happiness wasfull. Dr. Absalom smiled placidly. The Italian physician advanced andtook him by the hand. 

"I congratulate you, " said he, cordially. "Your skill is simplyamazing!"

The Hebrew bowed profoundly. 

"Doctor, " said he, "I have fulfilled my promise and my portion of thework is done. The rest remains for you to accomplish. You must resumecharge of the patient and restore his strength. "

With these words the old savant resumed his hat, saluted all presentand, leaning heavily upon his gold-headed cane, passed slowly from theapartment. 

Monte-Cristo followed him, enthusiastically expressing his gratitude;taking from his pocket a huge roll of bank-bills, he offered it to theHebrew, but the latter firmly refused to accept. 

"I remember the Athenian mob, M. The Count!" said he, impressively. 

As they passed the director's office, that official came out. 

"Well?" said he to Monte-Cristo. "The Jew has failed, of course!"

"He has succeeded!" replied the Count, with a smile of triumph. 

"You do not mean to tell me that the patient is restored to reason!"exclaimed the director. 

"That is exactly what I do mean to tell you!" retorted Monte-Cristo, sharply. 

"Humph! there is some cunning trick about this!" cried the official, returning to his office and abruptly closing the door behind him. 

The Italian physician resumed charge of the Viscount Massetti, Zuleikaand Valentine nursing him by turns. In two weeks the young man quittedthe asylum as fully restored in body as he was in mind. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER. 

When the Viscount Massetti quitted the insane asylum, Monte-Cristoprovided quarters for him at the Hôtel de France where he could be nearboth himself and his daughter. During the period of the young Italian'sconvalescence the Count had refrained from communicating to him thedetails of the foul conspiracy disclosed by Peppino, but no sooner wasZuleika's betrothed installed in the hôtel than he gave him all thestartling particulars. Massetti was not astonished, for he had longsuspected a portion at least of the truth, but his indignation againstold Pasquale Solara knew no bounds, and inwardly he swore to take speedyand complete vengeance upon him though the Count warned him to beexceedingly prudent and not to imperil the success of his operations inhis behalf by any rash proceeding. Monte-Cristo did not inform the youngItalian of his plans, distrusting his natural hot-headedness andimpetuosity, but urged him to be content to leave the prosecution of thescheme of rehabilitation entirely in his hands. The Count had alsoinstructed the Viscount that in consequence of Peppino's revelations hehad no further objections to his union with Zuleika and that themarriage should take place immediately upon the full and openestablishment of his innocence in the eyes of the world. At this theardent young man was delighted to his heart's core; the certainty of hisapproaching happiness and the tenderness the girl exhibited for himcompensated in a large degree for all his trials and tortures, but atthe same time he was impatient of the necessary delay in restoring himto the possession of an unstained name and reputation, thinking thatMonte-Cristo was much too careful and slow. 

He was now permitted to see Zuleika almost constantly and their lovetête-à-têtes were of the most delicious and impassioned description. They passed hours together upon the vast upper balcony of the hôtel inthe soft Italian dusk and moonlight evenings, discoursing those sweetand tender nothings so precious to lovers and so insipid tomatter-of-fact people whose days of romantic attachment are over. Sometimes, however, their conversation was of a more practicalcharacter; they spoke of their projects for the future--where theyshould go on their bridal tour and what they should do before settlingdown to the calm, peaceful existence of placid matrimonial joy. They haddecided to take up their permanent residence in Paris; thus they wouldalways be near Monte-Cristo, Espérance and Mercédès, near Albert deMorcerf and his wife, near those friends of friends Maximilian andValentine Morrel; besides in the gay French capital, the city of cities, while enjoying themselves to the utmost they could escape all allusionsto Giovanni's past which they could not possibly hope for did theysettle in Rome, where every time the youthful couple appeared in publicthe old scandal, the old charge against the Viscount would undoubtedlybe freshly and perhaps venomously commented upon. 

Occasionally, when Zuleika was with her father or in company with Mme. Morrel, young Massetti would take long walks into the country for thepurpose of breathing the free air and increasing his strength by meansof healthful exercise. During these strolls he shunned every person hemet, it being Monte-Cristo's desire that he should studiously avoidobservation. 

The news of Massetti's sudden and marvellous cure had spread throughoutRome, but people shook their heads when they talked of it and agreedwith the opinion expressed by the director of the insane asylum that Dr. Absalom had made use of some trick, the influence of which could not bepermanent, but would soon be dissipated, when the poor, deluded Viscountwould instantly fall into a worse mental condition than before. 

Undoubtedly the Count Massetti heard of his son's restoration to sanityand bodily health, but he paid no attention whatever to it, continuingproudly and haughtily to ignore the fact of Giovanni's existence. Monte-Cristo had not called upon the aged and inflexible nobleman fortwo reasons--he feared that his indignation would get the better of himin an interview and, besides, he knew it would be entirely useless toapproach the Count without being armed with young Massetti's completevindication. 

During one of those strolls already alluded to the Viscount went muchfurther than usual. It was a bright, balmy and cheerful morning, and thesun's gladdening radiance, the brilliant green of the trees, thefragrant odors from flowers and grass, the chirping of insect life andthe wild, intoxicating songs of the birds all contributed to draw him onand to make him forget Monte-Cristo's injunctions as to keeping out ofthe sight of the passers-by. 

He scarcely noticed in what direction he walked or what road he took, indulging in a careless, delicious daydream full of dolce far nientedelights. He had fixed his eyes upon the ground and was saunteringleisurely along when, all at once, he became conscious that some one wasapproaching. He hastily looked up. The pedestrian was yet some distanceaway, but his heavy shoes clattered upon the gravel of the highway witha ringing sound. He was evidently an old man and a peasant. In his righthand he held a staff and his large, broad-brimmed hat was drawn downslightly over his visage as if to protect it from the heat of the sun. Giovanni was about to step aside into a little grove of chestnut treesbeside the road there to wait until the new comer had passed, but ontaking a second glance at him something familiar in his aspect suddenlyarrested him, and by one of those inexplicable impulses which sometimestake possession of a man he paused and waited. 

The peasant had also noticed Giovanni and his action, but he did notrelax his pace, did not seem inclined to pay even the slightestattention to him. He came tramping on, reached the Viscount and passedhim without as much as a nod of the head in salutation. But Massettiwith a start recognized him. With a flush of rage on his face and allhis blood boiling in his veins, he turned, sprang after the old man andlaid his hand upon his shoulder. The peasant abruptly halted, alsoturned, and a fierce imprecation escaped his lips. He surveyed the irateyoung Italian from head to foot, sneeringly, scowlingly. 

"Why, do you stop me?" he said, roughly. "I do not know you. "

"But, Pasquale Solara, I know you!" exclaimed the Viscount. "We have metin good time and in a fit place! The opportunity for which I have longand impatiently waited has at length arrived! You shall feel thecrushing weight of my vengeance! You shall answer to me for yourdespicable, your unnatural crimes! Pasquale Solara, base wretch who soldyour own daughter to a fate worse than death, ignoble scoundrel who didnot respect the dictates of hospitality, I am Giovanni Massetti!"

As he spoke he leaped in front of the morose shepherd, barring hispassage with his body. 

"Well, what if you are Giovanni Massetti!" replied old Pasquale, coldlyand defiantly. "I care not for you! Stand out of my path and let me passbefore I strike you to the earth as I would a mongrel, yelping cur!"

With these words he raised his staff menacingly over the young Italian. The latter with the quickness and agility of a deer sprang at the staff, grasped it and sent it whirling into the chestnut grove. Then he caughtold Solara by the throat and a terrible struggle at once began. The twomen closed with each other as if in a death-clutch, wrestling like acouple of athletes. Massetti had not yet regained his full vigor, buthis rage lent him strength. On his side, Pasquale, though old, hadmuscles of steel and a grasp like iron. He whirled his adversary roundand round, at times almost overturning him, but the Viscount struggledmanfully, occasionally wrenching the shepherd from his feet and liftinghim bodily in the air. The breath of both came forth in hot, quick, labored gasps, while their faces were red with exertion. For a longwhile the result was doubtful, the strife continuing fiercely withoutany decided advantage on either side. Often the Viscount was bornenearly to the ground but he invariably recovered, straightened himselfup and vigorously renewed the conflict. Not a word was uttered now. Theconcentrated energies of the contestants were bent upon the strife, depriving them of the power of speech. Finally by a rapid movementGiovanni succeeded in tripping Solara, who fell with a crash, the youngItalian coming down upon his prostrate body with great force and for aninstant almost checking his respiration. Both were partially stunned bythe fall and lay motionless. Massetti was the first to regain possessionof his faculties. He half arose, placed his knees on old Pasquale'sbreast and, drawing a pistol, cocked it. 

"What are you going to do?" gasped the under man, his terror giving himthe power to speak. 

"I am going to kill you, Pasquale Solara!" hissed the Viscount, betweenhis set teeth. 

"Murderer!" shrieked the shepherd, desperately, making a franticstruggle to rise, but not succeeding. 

This ominous word, with all the terrible weight of meaning it conveyed, struck upon the young Italian's ear like a sound of-doom. A murderer?Yes, he would be a murderer, if he slew old Solara then and there, andbranded with an assassin's dark crime he must forever resign all hope ofpossessing his beloved Zuleika, must abandon her to die of a brokenheart! Perhaps, too, he would be seized, tried, condemned and meet afelon's fate upon the ignominious scaffold! True, Roman justice might besilenced with money, but he was a disowned and disinherited son, apenniless outcast! These thoughts brought him to a realization of theblack depths of the yawning gulf into which he was about to plunge andmade him hesitate. But a quick idea came to his relief--if he were tofight a duel with old Solara and kill him thus the Roman law would notpursue him, he would not be stamped with a murderer's crime! He would doit, he would fight him! Springing to his feet, he drew a second pistol, and, casting it upon the ground beside his astonished foe, said to him, speaking slowly and impressively:

"Pasquale Solara, I will give you a chance for your life! Rise, takethat pistol and face me! We will fight!"

The shepherd arose with some difficulty; he was considerably bruised andhad, besides, seriously strained one of his legs. Taking up the weapon, he cocked it and without a word, but with a look of demoniac ferocityand triumph upon his evil countenance, assumed a position about twentypaces distant from his opponent. Instantly both raised their pistols andfired. When the light smoke cleared away it became evident that neitherof them had been hit. Old Solara cast his empty weapon from him with acurse and, producing a pair of long, keen-bladed knives, threw one ofthem towards the Viscount. 

"You challenged me and I accepted!" he said, in a harsh tone. "Now Ichallenge you! Take that knife and fight me!"

Massetti hesitated, with a look of horror upon his countenance. A duelwith knives! It was barbarous! It was worthy of the red savages of theAmerican wilds!

"Take the knife, I say!" thundered old Solara. "Take it and face me, orby the canopy of heaven I will show you less mercy than you have beenweak enough to show me! I will stab you to the heart where you stand!"

He advanced with his murderous weapon in his outstretched hand, havingpreviously rolled up his sleeve and bared his brown, sinewy arm. 

Massetti stooped and took up the knife from where it lay. He also baredhis arm, nervously grasping the hilt of the weapon. 

Pasquale Solara's eyes gleamed like those of a tiger seen through thedarkness of a Hindoostan jungle. They had a terrible, a bloodthirstygleam. The shepherd now felt sure of his ground. With a pistol he wasnothing, with a knife he was a power! Giovanni could not cope with him;he would fall an easy victim to his skill and cunning!

The Viscount watched the old scoundrel with feverish anxiety, fullyrealizing what was passing through his mind. That Pasquale wouldvanquish him, kill him, he could not doubt, for he knew no more aboutfighting with a knife than an infant in its cradle. However, his couragedid not desert him, and he resolved to sell his life as dearly aspossible. 

Seeing Giovanni take the knife and prepare for the combat, Solara bentpartially forward and rushed upon him. The long, keen blades met with aflash of fire. The young Italian confined himself to acting upon thedefensive, the utmost activity and watchfulness being required on hispart to parry and ward off his opponent's skilful and incessant thrusts. The shepherd fought with the bewildering rapidity of the lightning'sflash and seemed to be in a thousand different places at once so swiftlydid he advance, retreat and spring aside. His excitement made him forgethis hurts. 

At length Massetti's arm became so strained and fatigued that it wasimpossible for him to hold out much longer. His hand was tightlyclutched about the haft of his knife, but it was so benumbed that hecould not feel the weapon. Still with the energy and resolution ofdespair he continued the unequal conflict, hoping against hope that someunexpected turn of affairs might give him the advantage. 

Meanwhile old Solara, fiendishly confident, was steadily and surelyclosing upon him, narrowing the limit of his retreat after each blow. Finally he retreated no more, but began pressing his adversary backwardstowards the chestnut grove, the while delivering blow after blow. Thenhe suddenly gave his wrist a dextrous twirl and Giovanni's knife wastorn from his grasp, falling about ten feet away. Instantly the youngman was forced to the ground and old Pasquale stood over him with hislegs wide apart, firmly planted to give the death-dealing thrust. AsMassetti lay his eye caught the glimmer of his own knife beyond theshepherd and slipping like a serpent between Solara's legs he seized it, sprang to his feet and, before Pasquale could recover from his surpriseat this unlooked-for manoeuvre, buried the glittering blade in hisbreast. Solara reeled and fell upon the grass, where he lay bathed inblood. 

"You have escaped me, Viscount Massetti!" he groaned. 

Young Massetti could scarcely realize what had happened, what he haddone, so miraculous did the result of this strange duel appear to hisbewildered mind. 

As he stood like one in a dream he heard a sound as of many feet. Hastily dashing into the chestnut grove, he looked back and saw oldSolara surrounded by a group of Luigi Vampa's men. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

A VISIT TO THE REFUGE. 

Among the details of the Count of Monte-Cristo's plan for therehabilitation of Giovanni Massetti was a visit to Annunziata Solara atthe Refuge in Civita Vecchia. This visit he made one morning in companywith Zuleika and M. And Mme. Morrel. Madame de Rancogne was delighted tosee the Count and cordially welcomed him and his party. 

"So this handsome young lady is your daughter, Edmond, " she said, seating herself beside Zuleika and taking her hand. "How rapidly timeflies. To-day we are in the midst of the enjoyment of youth andto-morrow we are the middle-aged people of our locality. Then in anotherbrief space we are the aged, after which comes death!"

Zuleika blushed at Helena's compliment to herself and looked at hercuriously while she delivered the closing part of her speech. But theCountess of Monte-Cristo of the past was not of a sombre nature, and, smiling, she added:

"The most dazzling and enchanting side to the picture of youth is love!Has Zuleika, Count, ever experienced the tender passion? It will beexceedingly strange if she has not. "

Monte-Cristo's daughter blushed again. 

The Count smiled as he replied:

"Yes, Helena, Zuleika has experienced the crowning passion of life. Sheis betrothed to the Viscount Giovanni Massetti of Rome. "

"What!" exclaimed Mme. De Rancogne, stricken with amazement and horror. "That Giovanni Massetti who has been disowned and disinherited by hisfather for the commission of one of the vilest and most dishonorablecrimes known to the world?"

"The same!" answered Monte-Cristo, calmly. 

Mme. De Rancogne was now more astounded than ever. 

"You know this man's record and yet you allow him to win your daughter!Count, this is not like you! I cannot understand it!"

"Helena, " returned Monte-Cristo, "this poor young man has been maligned, falsely accused by persons inimical to him. "

The Superior of the Order of Sisters of Refuge slowly but firmly shookher head, looking the while at the Count and his daughter with anexpression of deep sympathy and compassion upon her noble countenance. 

"You have been deceived, imposed upon, Edmond, " she rejoined. "There canbe no doubt whatever as to the young man's terrible and damning guilt. Besides, my assertion admits of immediate verification and proof. Massetti's unfortunate victim, the beautiful peasant girl AnnunziataSolara, is now an inmate of this institution whither she dragged herselfwhen overcome by shame and suffering of the keenest description, seeking to find here an asylum and a cloister where prying eyes couldnot find her out and where the venomous tongue of scandal could not tearopen her wounds and set them to bleeding afresh. She is a member of ourOrder, has devoted the rest of her days to the achievement of goodactions and the raising up of the fallen and betrayed of her sex. Annunziata Solara is here, almost within sound of my voice, and will, though with reluctance I am convinced, confirm every word I have utteredrelative to her cowardly and villainous abductor!"

"To hold an interview with this unfortunate creature is what has broughtme here with Zuleika and my friends the Morrels, " said the Count. "Ofcourse, I wished to see you, Helena, and enjoy once again the pleasureof your society, " he added, his agreeable smile accompanying his words. 

The Superior bowed gracefully and arose. 

"I can understand then your anxiety to see and speak with Annunziata atthe earliest possible moment. Therefore, I will immediately summon herto this apartment where the desired interview can take place withoutdelay. "

As she uttered these words Mme. De Rancogne hastened from the salon, shortly afterwards returning with the former flower-girl of the Piazzadel Popolo in Rome. 

Annunziata stood for an instant in the centre of the apartment, gazinginquiringly at the visitors, for Mme. De Rancogne had not informed herof their business, preferring that Monte-Cristo in his wisdom andexperience should conduct the interview and develop his wishes in hisown peculiar fashion. 

The Count and Maximilian gazed at old Pasquale Solara's daughter withconsiderable interest, but it was an interest altogether masculine. Valentine also looked at her attentively, with that searching, penetrating look one woman invariably casts upon another. As forZuleika, her eyes literally devoured the peasant girl, flashing withwhat was not exactly hatred for a rival but rather an instinctive fearand distrust. She was well aware that Giovanni had flirted with thisgirl, had been enthralled by her physical charms, had almost yielded toher sway, and she felt a peculiar interest in the creature who hadtemporarily at least stolen the heart of her lover from her. 

Annunziata had been greatly benefited by her sojourn in the calm andquiet Refuge. She had by a great and heroic exercise of her strength ofmind put aside from her all thoughts of her lamentable history, of hersuddenly clouded and terrible past. She had thoroughly abandoned herselfto the discipline and duties of the Sisters of the Order of Refuge, andhad sought with more or less success even to forget herself. Herunruffled life, passed in the continual doing of good, filled her withpeacefulness and satisfaction, and for the first time in a long whileshe fully realized what it was to be perfectly contented and happy. Inconsequence her physical condition had improved, promptly responding toher mental ease. She had recovered the beauty she had lost during herconfinement in the bandits' hut and her subsequent wanderings as ahomeless, starving outcast. Her plumpness had also returned, and herglance had all the brightness and gayety that had formerly distinguishedit. Still a general refinement had taken possession of her, andAnnunziata was no longer the child of nature she had been when she livedin the romantic cabin in the forest. 

Madame de Rancogne was the first to speak. 

"Sister Annunziata, " she said, "here are his Excellency the Count ofMonte-Cristo, Zuleika his daughter, and M. And Mme. Morrel. Allow me tomake you acquainted with them and to assure you that they are truefriends of mine, firmly to be relied on. They wish to interrogate you inregard to a certain matter. You can answer their questions without fearand without the slightest hesitation. The Count of Monte-Cristo is thevery soul of chivalry and honor!"

The Count bowed in acknowledgment of this well-turned speech and, addressing Annunziata, who, notwithstanding Mme. De Rancogne'sassurances, began to tremble and feel distressed, said:

"Sister Annunziata, I wish to ask you certain important questions asyour Superior has told you. I am pursuing an investigation that promisesto be fruitful in the very best results of the highest possible good. Sister Annunziata, I wish your aid in clearing the record of an innocentman, one who has suffered as greatly as you have and for whom you can, therefore, feel pity and sympathy. I allude to the Viscount GiovanniMassetti. "

The girl gave a sudden start and turned ghastly pale. 

"The Viscount Giovanni Massetti?" repeated she, interrogatively, halfdoubting whether she could have heard the name aright. 

"Yes, " said Monte-Cristo, "the Viscount Giovanni Massetti, who has beenfalsely accused of having abducted you!"

"Falsely accused!" cried Annunziata. "Why, Signor Count of Monte-Cristo, the wretched young man is guilty of everything with which he has beencharged, whether the charges were made by persons inimical to him ornot!"

The visitors were still closely watching the peasant girl. They hadexpected she would say exactly what she had said and, therefore, werenot in the slightest degree astonished or disconcerted. Her earnestnessand the circumstance that she certainly ought to know the identity ofher abductor were well-calculated to inspire confidence in herstatements and to induce a belief in the guilt of the young ViscountMassetti. 

Monte-Cristo answered Annunziata firmly but considerately. 

"Sister, " he said, "notwithstanding your belief that Massetti was yourabductor, I know the contrary to be true and have in my possessionindubitable proof of what I assert!"

Annunziata shook her head. 

"The proof must, indeed, be conclusive that would shake my belief!" shesaid, with a slight trace of bitterness in her tone. 

"It is conclusive!"

"But if young Massetti is innocent of my abduction and of my poorbrother's murder, who then, in Heaven's name, is the guilty party?"

"Luigi Vampa!"

"Luigi Vampa?"

"Yes. He forced his way into your cabin on that eventful night, abductedyou and afterwards shot your brother Lorenzo in the forest. "

"You say you have indubitable proof of this. How was it obtained?"

"From a man named Peppino, who overheard all the details of thenefarious bargain and conspiracy entered into by the brigand chief andold Pasquale Solara. "

"Pasquale Solara? My father! Oh! Signor Count, what do you mean?"

"Be calm, my child, and listen to me. Your father despicably sold you toLuigi Vampa for a large sum of money and they together so arranged theabduction that all suspicion would fall with crushing force upon theshoulders of the young Italian!"

Annunziata put her hand to her forehead and stood still, rooted to thespot by horror and amazement. She had no great love for her moody andmorose father, who never had done anything calculated to inspireaffection for him in the bosom of his daughter, but, at the same time, it seemed incredible and horrible to her that her parent should havebeen guilty of this unnatural behavior towards her, of this unmanlyconduct with regard to an innocent guest who in all confidence waspartaking of the hospitality his roof afforded. She looked atMonte-Cristo doubtingly and then at Mme. De Rancogne, who was smilingupon her encouragingly. 

"As God is my judge, " said she, solemnly, "I believe Giovanni Massettito have been my abductor!"

"Of course, " returned Monte-Cristo, "but you are in error!"

"I saw his face! Surely I ought to have been able to recognize that!"

"Certainly; but, I tell you, everything was so arranged as to deceiveyou into believing the young Italian the criminal, the despicable wretchwho had failed to respect a woman's honor!"

"It may be as you assert, but I cannot rid myself of my firm anddeep-rooted belief in the matter. I have forgiven the Viscount Massettifor the foul wrong he did me, but to the latest day of my earthlyexistence I shall believe him guilty!"

Suddenly fixing her eyes upon Zuleika with a gaze of bewilderingintensity, Annunziata stood as if anxious to speak to her of some veryimportant topic. 

Monte-Cristo's daughter divined this, and, going to the formerflower-girl, said to her:

"Is there anything I can do for you, Sister Annunziata? If so you haveonly to ask it!"

Annunziata laid her hand upon Zuleika's shoulder, asking, in a tone thatnotwithstanding all her efforts to control it was not a little unsteadyand tremulous:

"Do you love him?--do you love the Viscount Massetti?"

"Yes, " answered Zuleika, lowering her eyes beneath the intensity of theother's look. 

"So I thought, but oh! daughter of a noble family, beware of theperfidious young man! He will not hesitate to deceive you as he deceivedme! Then he will leave you to your fate as he left me to mine, andlife-long sorrow and misery will be your portion!"

Zuleika gazed pityingly at the peasant girl. 

"You loved him once, did you not?" she asked. 

"Perhaps I did, perhaps I did not!" replied Annunziata. "I do not know!Certainly my heart spoke for him, but that may have been only friendlyesteem! However, after the abduction and the horrible and disgracefulevents that followed it, I grew to hate him with the bitterestdescription of hate! I have told you that I have forgiven him and it wasthe truth. I have forgiven and am endeavoring to forget him!"

There was a suspicious glitter in the girl's eyes as she spoke, something that hinted of the presence of tears, but the glitter passedaway and, turning to Mme. De Rancogne, she said:

"Are your guests through with questioning me, Madame the Superior?"

Mme. De Rancogne glanced inquiringly at Monte-Cristo, who nodded hishead affirmatively. 

"The interview is concluded, " replied Helena, "and now, if you sodesire, you can return to your apartment. "

Annunziata, more affected and agitated by what she had just passedthrough than she cared to admit, bowed to the visitors and the Superiorand hastily quitted the salon. 

"Poor girl! she remains perfectly unconvinced!" said Monte-Cristo, afterher departure. 

"And she is right!" rejoined Mme. De Rancogne, warmly. "I have heard allthe details of her story and the chain of evidence against the ViscountGiovanni Massetti is altogether complete. To doubt his guilt would besheer idiocy!"

After a sojourn of a few hours longer at the Refuge, Monte-Cristo andhis party returned to Rome to go actively to work in Massetti's cause. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

VAMPA AND MONTE-CRISTO. 

After his fearful and exhausting duel with old Pasquale Solara in whichhe had been so nearly vanquished and so signally favored by Fate, theViscount Massetti dragged himself rather than ran through the chestnutgrove by the roadside, pausing now and then to glance back through thetrees and note what was taking place among Vampa's bandits. His woundedantagonist was evidently unconscious, for the brigands were bending overhim, some of them seeming to be engaged in endeavors to restore him tohis senses. Another circumstance tending to confirm this supposition wasthe absence of pursuit, for had the shepherd been able to give even themost fragmentary information relative to the encounter, Vampa's menwould have immediately devoted their attention to a search for hissuccessful assailant, and in Giovanni's present condition of exhaustionhis capture could not have been doubtful. 

The young Italian did not waste a moment, but made his way towards Romeas rapidly as he was able, though his progress was necessarily toilsomeand painful in the extreme. Having at length reached the bank of a smallbrook at a safe distance from the scene of the conflict, he washed thedust and sweat from his face, and held his benumbed hand in the cool, limpid water until the blood resumed its normal circulation. Then hearranged his torn and disordered garments so as not to attract too muchattention from the curious pedestrians he would be sure to meet on theoutskirts of the city, resuming his journey strengthened and refreshed. Contrary to his expectations he eventually gained the Hôtel de Francewithout exciting any special observation or comment. Once in his ownapartment he carefully locked the door and, casting himself upon hisbed, breathed freely for the first time since old Solara had fallen byhis hand. 

His thoughts, however, were not altogether of a reassuring nature. Hehad taken an Italian's vengeance upon the despicable old PasqualeSolara, who certainly merited all he had received, but how wouldMonte-Cristo look at the affair when he learned of it as he mostassuredly would when he began his campaign against Vampa, if not before?Undoubtedly with strong disapprobation and displeasure. The Count hadcautioned him to keep out of sight, to restrain his impetuosity, and hehad done neither. On the contrary he had shown himself to the shepherd, declared his identity and assumed the responsibility of dealing withhim, though, to be sure, he had given him a chance to defend himself. IfSolara was dead, if he had expired without making any revelation, hissecret was secure and even Monte-Cristo could not unearth it, but wouldnot the death of old Pasquale deprive the Count of a most importantwitness, a most important factor in his rehabilitation? Perhaps so, perhaps not, for it was by no means certain that Monte-Cristo couldforce Solara to confess and make at least partial and tardy amends forhis atrocious misdeeds. It was highly probable that Annunziata'swretched father, even if brought to bay, would persist in preserving astony and unbroken silence, would make no admissions whatever. Takingthis view of the matter the Viscount felt relieved and, composinghimself on his couch, yielded to the influence of extreme fatigue andfell asleep. His slumber was profound and dreamless. Exactly how long heslept he knew not, but meanwhile an event as unexpected as it wasportentous occurred almost within earshot of where he lay, an eventbrought about by his rash and inconsiderate action of that morning. 

Monte-Cristo's salon was opposite to Massetti's chamber, a wide corridorseparating the two apartments. It was late in the afternoon and theCount, seated at his desk, was pondering over his plans in relation tothe Viscount. Matters had not progressed as swiftly as he had hoped. Besides, much further delay seemed inevitable. Maximilian, of course, could do nothing, for the present at least, and Valentine's ability tobe of use was limited to encouraging Zuleika and exercising a properdegree of surveillance over the lovers when such surveillance waspossible. Peppino and Beppo, too, were comparatively useless, though bycareful and well-directed inquiries they had ascertained that LuigiVampa and his band had changed their quarters from the old rendezvous, locating in a fastness that could not be approached without greatdifficulty and danger. None of the brigands now visited Rome and evenVampa himself seemed distrustful of the future. According to theintelligence gathered by Peppino and Beppo he constantly went about invarious disguises that defied detection, studiously avoiding all hisaccustomed haunts. With regard to the brigand chief's actionsMonte-Cristo could entertain but one of two opinions--either he wasfilled with remorse for his shameful conduct towards poor AnnunziataSolara and for his complicity with old Pasquale in bringing the innocentViscount under suspicion, which was doubtful, or he was afraid thatRoman justice stimulated by young Massetti and such friends as he stillpossessed would overtake him, which was the more probable. The Count hadnot hoped for much from Annunziata Solara, though he had calculatedsomewhat on the effect upon her of his assurance that he possessedconclusive proof of Giovanni's innocence. His recent interview with thegirl, however, had established the fact that she firmly believed theViscount guilty, and it was fair to presume that she would retain herbelief in the face of everything with all the proverbial obstinacy ofwoman. Besides, after all, what was his conclusive proof? Simply theunsupported assertions of a former member of Vampa's band, who in makingthem had clearly been actuated by a desire of wreaking personalvengeance upon old Pasquale Solara!

The Count was not a little discouraged, but his own conviction of thetruth of Peppino's statement was as strong as ever and, notwithstandingall the apparently insurmountable obstacles, he did not doubt that hewould eventually find some way to force Vampa and the shepherd into afull confirmation of every diabolical detail related by the ex-bandit inthe cell of the police poste in Paris. 

As he sat thus communing with his sombre thoughts and reflecting thatthe delay might stretch out into many months, a knock was heard at hisdoor and in response to his permission Peppino entered the salon. 

A glance at the man's pale and agitated countenance was sufficient totell Monte-Cristo that something unusual had happened. 

"Well, " said he, gazing keenly at him, "what is it?"

The man looked hastily about the apartment and, having satisfied himselfthat his master was alone, came close to him, bending down andwhispering in his ear:

"Signor Count, a strange visitor is below, asking to see you. He isgarbed like a Roman noble and his face is made up with paints andcosmetics like that of an actor on the stage of a theatre. Still, Ithink I have pierced his disguise and that he is no less a personagethan Luigi Vampa himself!"

"Ah!" said the Count, rising, with a smile of satisfaction. "Heavengrant that you are correct! If Vampa is here, his visit will simplifymatters. "

"But you do not mean to see the brigand chief, do you, Signor Count?"said Peppino, in a startled tone. 

"Why, pray, should I not see him when for so long I have beenimpatiently awaiting an opportunity to meet him?" asked Monte-Cristo, inamazement. 

"Because, " answered the Italian, with an unmistakable display of fear, "he may have divined your mission to Rome and his business with you hereto-day may be assassination!"

Monte Cristo laughed heartily. 

"My good fellow, " said he, in a reassuring tone, "dismiss your childishterrors. Vampa will not dare even to attempt to harm me! Show themysterious visitor up and let the problem of his identity be solved!"

"I know your power over Vampa, Signor Count, " returned Peppino, hesitating, "but still in this peculiar instance it may fail you!"

"Pshaw!" said the Count, impatiently. "I tell you I do not fear Vampa. Show him up at once. "

Peppino very reluctantly quitted the salon, soon returning with thesuspicious visitor. 

Monte-Cristo advanced to meet the new comer, who silently pointed toPeppino, motioning towards the door. The Count nodded to the ex-banditand with a slow step he left the room. 

Although Vampa was carefully disguised and even elegantly dressed in thefashionable attire of the Roman aristocracy, Monte-Cristo, like Peppino, had no difficulty whatever in recognizing him. 

"Well, Luigi Vampa!" said he, facing his visitor and calmly folding hisarms as soon as they were alone. "What do you want with me?"

The brigand chief did not seem either disconcerted or surprised even inthe slightest degree. He boldly returned his host's gaze and said:

"I knew you would recognize me at once, for I am well aware of yourextraordinary keenness and penetration, Signor Count, but, to confessthe truth, my disguise was not intended to deceive you; its sole objectwas to secure me safe entrance to and exit from Rome which of late hasbecome dangerous for men in my line of industry!"

The Count smiled in his peculiar way. 

"What do you want with me, Luigi Vampa?" he repeated. "Your errand mustbe of vast importance since you have taken so much trouble to executeit!"

"It is of vast importance, Signor Count. This morning one of the mostefficient members of my band, old Pasquale Solara, was attacked andseverely wounded by your protégé the Viscount Giovanni Massetti!"

"Old Solara attacked and severely wounded by the Viscount Massetti?Impossible!"

The Count was greatly disconcerted by this intelligence; he could notconceal his chagrin. The Viscount's rashness and impetuosity would ruinall!

"What I say is true, " continued Vampa, "and I have come to you toprotest. You must restrain this Viscount Massetti, this reckless madman!He professes to have a grudge against Pasquale Solara and there is notelling to what length he may go if you do not control him. Had Pasqualebeen able to speak when discovered lying bathed in blood upon thehighway by some of the members of my band, young Massetti would havebeen pursued, captured and made to pay for his murderous assault withhis life; but it was only later, when brought into my presence, that hebecame sufficiently conscious to relate what had happened. Signor Count, I wish to respect your friends, but they on their part must respect meand my band!"

"Luigi Vampa, " replied Monte-Cristo, sternly, "you say that youngMassetti has a grudge against old Pasquale Solara! What you seek tobelittle with the name of grudge is simply just indignation for anoutrage such as human beings rarely commit! This you know!--you to whomSolara basely sold his daughter!--you who plotted with the agedscoundrel that the charge of abduction and murder might fall upon theViscount's innocent shoulders when you, Luigi Vampa, were the guiltyman!"

The brigand chief started and grew pale beneath the paint and cosmeticswith which his visage was thickly coated. 

"You have been deceived, Signor Count!" he stammered, taken at adisadvantage, but nevertheless speaking guardedly and endeavoring to puton a bold front. "The girl herself, Annunziata Solara, will swear to youthat the Viscount Giovanni Massetti was her abductor and the author ofher ruin!"

"Yes, " replied Monte-Cristo, bitterly, "she will and does say so, forshe has been completely blinded by the cunning, fiendish stratagems youresorted to, aided and abetted by that infamous miscreant old PasqualeSolara, for whom a lingering death upon the rack of the ancient SpanishInquisition would not be a sufficient punishment!"

"You speak very confidently, Signor Count, " said Vampa, resuming hiscool self-possession. "Pray tell me how you are going to prove allthis?"

"I should be foolish, indeed, did I do so, " replied Monte-Cristo, seeingthe brigand chief's trap and adroitly avoiding being caught in it. "However, suffice it to say that I can and will make good all I haveasserted! Even Annunziata Solara herself shall be thoroughly convinced!"

"Signor Count, " said Vampa, pleadingly, "we have long been good friends, have long understood each other perfectly. Do not let the idle talesdesigning persons have poured into your ears destroy that friendship andthat understanding!"

"I have heard no idle tales from designing persons, " retorted the Count. "What I have heard was a plain and simple statement of the truth. I knowhow old Solara summoned you with his signal whistle, how you bargainedwith him for his beautiful daughter and how you finally bought her ofhim! I know how you abducted the girl while her infamous father waitedoutside the cabin with a torch, how you bore her away in your armsthrough the forest, murdering her brother and in turn encountering myson Espérance and the Viscount Massetti. I know how you carried her tothe hut you had prepared, how you kept her a close prisoner thereguarded by members of your band until your shameful object wasaccomplished! I know how you wrote that letter signed Tonio which wasintended to influence Annunziata's belief in the Viscount's guilt, and Iknow how old Solara secreted it where his daughter afterwards found andread it! Now, Luigi Vampa, are you satisfied? You said a moment ago thatwe have long understood each other. I hope there will be nomisunderstanding on your part when I tell you that I mean to force bothyou and old Solara to confess your crimes and make reparation for themas far as possible!"

"Then you declare war against us?" cried the brigand chief. 

"I do!" answered Monte-Cristo, coldly. 

"Then in my own name and in that of Pasquale Solara, I defy you, EdmondDantès, Count of Monte-Cristo!"

He backed towards the door as if afraid the Count would attack him. Whenhe reached it, he turned, flung it open and stepped into the corridor, instantly finding himself in the grasp of Peppino and Beppo, who at oncehanded him over to a squad of policemen, the officer in charge of whomsaid:

"I arrest you, Luigi Vampa! Follow me!"

CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE BANDITS' REPRISALS. 

Monte-Cristo was astounded when he saw Luigi Vampa arrested by the Romanpoliceman and his squad; his first thought was that Peppino, unwillingto let slip so fair an opportunity to obtain vengeance, had betrayed thebrigand chief to the authorities; this idea was apparently confirmed bythe part the two ex-bandits had taken in their former leader's capture;hence after the officers and their prisoner had departed, he turnedfiercely upon Peppino and said, in a tone of anger:

"This is fine work for one of my servants to do, especially one sotrusted as you!"

"Signor Count, " answered Peppino, humbly, "you are mistaken. I had nohand in it whatever save obeying the order of the officer in command ofthe police. "

"Indeed!" cried the Count, incredulously. 

"Yes, " continued Peppino, in the same humble voice, "and Beppo here isequally innocent. The officer tracked Vampa to the hôtel and wasinformed that I had conducted him into your presence. He thereupon sentfor me, directing me without further ado to take Beppo, who chanced tobe in my company, and seize the chief, who was personally unknown tohim, the instant he quitted your salon. I trust your Excellency willpardon us, as we could do nothing but obey. "

"In that case, " said Monte-Cristo, "no blame attaches to either of you, but, nevertheless, Vampa's arrest at this critical juncture willseriously interfere with my projected operations. "

The police had conducted matters very quietly; still, the tramp of manyfeet in the corridor had awakened the Viscount and filled him withterror. Knowing the unparalleled audacity of the bandits, he at oncejumped to the conclusion that a body of them had entered Rome and takenpossession of the Hôtel de France with the object of seizing upon him asthe murderer of old Pasquale Solara, who, he did not doubt, was dead. When the tramping feet, which the Count and Vampa were too muchengrossed to hear, paused in front of his very door he became fixed inthis conclusion and sprang from his bed in wild alarm. He looked hastilyaround him for some avenue of escape, but there was none. If thebrigands were without he was trapped and would speedily be in theirhands. He listened with the utmost anxiety, expecting every instant thathis door would be forced and his relentless foes come thronging into thechamber. No such movement, however, was made. A deathlike silenceprevailed. What was the meaning of all this? What was taking place orabout to occur? If the men in the corridor were not Luigi Vampa'sbandits, who were they? The Viscount lost himself in a bewildering mazeof conjectures. Make a personal examination and satisfy himself he darenot. In the midst of his conjectures he heard a door open directlyacross the corridor and knew it was Monte-Cristo's. Then a voice ofstern command broke the silence, but what was uttered he could notdistinguish, though he fancied he made out the ominous word "arrest, "which was almost immediately succeeded by a renewal of the tramping offeet. This sound speedily died away and silence again prevailed. YoungMassetti was more perplexed than ever. He could make nothing out of theknotty problem presented to him for solution. Suddenly a thought struckhim that brought beads of cold perspiration out upon his forehead. Monte-Cristo had been arrested and carried off to a Roman prison! Thenhe heard the Count's well-known voice angrily addressing some one andthis alarming thought vanished as quickly as it had come to him. Theparty arrested, if an arrest had been made, was, therefore, notMonte-Cristo but some one else, some one who had come from the Count'ssalon. Who could it possibly be? Maximilian Morrel? No, the idea wasabsurd, for what had the young Frenchman done to provoke arrest?Finally, unable longer to endure the uncertainty and suspense, theViscount cautiously opened his door and glanced out into the corridor. His eyes rested upon Monte-Cristo, Peppino and Beppo. The former saw himand at once came to him. 

"What has happened?" demanded Massetti, eagerly. 

"Luigi Vampa was here and has been taken away a prisoner by the police, "answered the Count. 

"Luigi Vampa!" cried the young Italian, in amazement. 

"Yes, Luigi Tampa, " returned Monte-Cristo, his brow clouding. 

"What brought him to the Hôtel de France?"

"He came to complain of you!"

"Of me?"

"I have said so. "

"And you caused him to be arrested?"

"I did not. His arrest was due entirely to his own rashness. The policetracked him hither and apprehended him as he quitted my apartment. "

While speaking Monte-Cristo made his way into Giovanni's chamber. Closing the door behind him, he stood gazing at the Viscount with agloomy air. 

"Giovanni Massetti, " said he, in a slow, measured tone, "you havedisregarded my injunctions and by your impetuosity put all my plans injeopardy! You did wrong, very wrong, in attacking old Pasquale Solarathis morning!"

"I am keenly sensible of it now, after calm reflection, " answered theViscount, penitently. "But still you must make some allowance for me. Icame suddenly upon the shepherd and my indignation and desire forvengeance so mastered me at the sight of him that I could not controlmyself. Nevertheless I gave him a chance for his life. We fought adesperate duel and he was wounded, but whether mortally or not it isimpossible for me to say, as Vampa's men made their appearanceimmediately after his fall, and I was forced into precipitate flight. "

"Should Solara die, " said Monte-Cristo, moodily, "you will havedeprived us of a most important witness, for I calculated uponcompelling him to speak, to disclose every detail of the infamousconspiracy against you. But like you I do not know his presentcondition, as Vampa did not vouchsafe me any information upon that head. I can only hope that he is not seriously wounded and will recover. "

"I am singularly unfortunate, " said the Viscount, humbly. "Everything Ido seems to be wrong. "

"Because you are governed by impulse alone and do not wait for yourcalmer judgment to come to your aid, " replied Monte-Cristo. Then headded, firmly: "Giovanni Massetti, either you must submit wholly to mefor the future, be guided entirely by my wishes, or I will be compelledto leave you to your fate! I need not say that I shall abandon you veryreluctantly, but abandon you I must unless you cease to trammel myefforts in your behalf!"

The young Italian seized his benefactor's hand convulsively. 

"Your Excellency, " he exclaimed, supplicatingly, "do not abandon me, donot leave me to my fate at this critical juncture! I will yield youblind and implicit submission and obedience! For the future I will donothing, take not even the slightest, most unimportant step without yourdirect authorization or express command!"

"It is well, Giovanni, " said the Count, evidently much relieved to findhis ardent protégé so tractable. "I will continue the work I have begunand also endeavor to bring it to a speedy and successful conclusion. The arrest of Vampa and the wounding of old Solara have complicatedmatters to a certain extent, but a brief time, I trust, will suffice tostraighten out the complications and tangles, and then the result willbe happiness for all of us, the richest possible reward!"

"God grant it!" cried Massetti, fervently. 

"Now, " said the Count, "you must not quit the Hôtel de France even for amoment without my permission! Do you promise me that?"

"I not only promise it, I swear it!" exclaimed the Viscount, lifting hiseyes and his right hand towards Heaven. 

"It is well, " repeated Monte-Cristo, joyously, and turning he leftMassetti's chamber. 

It had been planned that the Count should take Zuleika out riding thefollowing morning, but a desire to know what had become of Luigi Vampaand what the authorities proposed to do in his case preventedMonte-Cristo from fulfilling his promise to his daughter. He, however, determined not to deprive Zuleika of the pleasure she anticipated fromher drive and, therefore, when the barouche and its spirited horses werebrought to the hôtel door installed Peppino in the driver's seat withthe faithful Ali to act as an additional guard and protector. 

Zuleika, after bidding her father a tender farewell, was assisted by himinto the elegant vehicle and Ali drove off, managing the prancing andmettlesome steeds, with all the dash and skill of a veteran Pariscoachman. 

They passed along the Corso, which as usual was crowded with splendidequipages and gay promenaders, finally making their way to the vast andbeautiful Piazza del Popolo, which presented even a more animated andenlivening scene than the Corso. The elegant equipages were theresupplemented by superbly mounted cavaliers and the various paths werealive with handsome girls and their gallants, while interspersed amidthe better classes were gorgeously attired peasants of both sexes, somesimply idling about, others vending small wares and flowers. 

Tiring at length of the ordinary sights of Rome, Zuleika directed Ali todrive a short distance into the country. He obeyed with considerablereluctance for he was well aware of the dangers to be encountered in theenvirons of the city, and Peppino, on his side, was also uneasy, thoughhe did not venture to protest against what he considered a mostcensurable caprice of his youthful mistress. 

However, they drove along for several miles without the slightestincident occurring to warrant the fears of Ali and Peppino or troublethe serenity of Zuleika. The young girl enjoyed the open country, withits stately trees, verdure and refreshing odors, immensely, andinternally congratulated herself on having varied her programme byleaving dusty Rome behind her for a time. 

Meanwhile Ali, with the habitual fatalism of his nation, had resignedhimself in advance to whatever might happen and drove straight onwardwith his eyes impassibly fixed upon the horses. Not so with Peppino;the wily and well-posted Italian was constantly on the alert, scanningevery thicket, clump of trees or turn of the road with a searching looklong before they came to it; although nothing suspicious had as yet methis gaze, he was not by any means either satisfied or reassured. 

Finally they approached a small roadside inn and Zuleika, complaining ofthirst, directed the barouche to be stopped and Peppino to dismount fromhis seat, enter the inn and procure some wine for her. Peppino made agrimace at this command, but had not the courage to explain toMonte-Cristo's daughter that in obeying her he ran the risk ofencountering some of his old comrades who might prove too inquisitive. He slowly clambered down from the barouche and with an exceedinglyrueful countenance made his way into the inn. He had not been gone aninstant when he suddenly reappeared, running towards the barouche anduttering loud cries of alarm. Half a dozen rough-looking men pursued himand before he could reach the vehicle he was caught. Simultaneouslyanother party of ruffians issued from the inn, catching the horses bythe bridle as Ali was about to drive off. 

"Not so fast, my sable friend!" said one of the men. "We must make theacquaintance of your beautiful young mistress!"

Zuleika sat speechless, frozen with terror. Ali raised his whip tostrike the ruffian who had spoken so flippantly of Monte-Cristo'sdaughter, but the indignant mute was instantly overpowered and draggedto the ground. 

Meanwhile the men who held Peppino in their clutches were examining himclosely. 

"I would swear, " said one of them, "that this is our old comrade, Peppino, who ran away from us so unceremoniously, taking with him all hecould lay his hands on!"

"It is Peppino, " put in another. "I know him in spite of his stainedface and livery! By the Holy Virgin!" he added, "I know the livery, too!It's Monte-Cristo's!"

"Then the barouche and horses are Monte-Cristo's also!" said the firstspeaker. "No doubt, too, that young woman there is a member of theCount's family. We followed Peppino for a little fun, comrades, but havefallen upon a slice of rare luck! Monte-Cristo is responsible forVampa's arrest yesterday, for the chief was taken as he left his roomNow we can make reprisals!"

"Excellent!" cried another of the band. "We can make reprisals andobtain at least one valuable hostage for Vampa's safety! Signora, " hesaid to the terrified Zuleika, "who are you?"

The poor girl, commanding her voice as best she could, replied, withsome dignity:

"I am Zuleika, daughter of the Count of Monte-Cristo! In his name Idemand that you instantly release us!"

"So!" said the man, turning to his delighted companions. "His daughter!We can now count on Vampa's safety without the shadow of a doubt!"

The leader of the bandits now came from the inn; upon being informed ofthe important capture his men had made he rubbed his hands in glee. Turning to his lieutenants, he said:

"Have a guard placed in the barouche beside Monte-Cristo's daughter andlet another comrade drive the equipage to the rendezvous of the band. Asfor the colored driver, let him go back to Rome on foot and carry thenews to his master with the compliments of Vampa's men!"

"What shall be done with Peppino?" asked one of the lieutenants. 

"Hang him to the nearest tree!" answered the leader, but, immediatelytaking a second thought, he added: "No. Keep him! Perhaps Monte-Cristoplaces some value on the scoundrel and it might not be bad policy toretain him as an additional hostage!"

Peppino who had been listening intently to the leader's words heaved adeep sigh of relief. He would certainly experience rough treatment, butat least his life was safe. He, therefore, submitted to be bound withouta murmur and even smiled as he was being led away. 

The leader's commands regarding Zuleika and the equipage were promptlyobeyed, and soon Monte-Cristo's daughter was a close prisoner in a rockycell of the bandits' subterranean fastness. 

Ali, as soon as set free, started for Rome to give the alarm. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE RAID ON THE BANDITS. 

When Ali reached the Hôtel de France and dragged himself to his master'sapartment, which was not until quite late in the afternoon, hiscondition was truly deplorable. Footsore and ready to drop from extremefatigue, he staggered like a drunken man. He was thickly covered withdust and profuse perspiration made his dark skin glisten. The faithfulmute at once threw himself at the Count's feet, embracing his knees andin his marvellous pantomime eloquently entreating pardon. 

Monte-Cristo, who was suffering torment because of his beloveddaughter's prolonged absence, instantly divined that some terribleaccident had befallen her and grew almost wild with grief andapprehension. Raising Ali up, he said to him in a broken, anxious voice:

"Tell me what has occurred without circumlocution or delay, and tell meall!"

The Nubian made a profound salaam in token of submission and obedience. Then he proceeded, in his own peculiar mode of narrating events withwhich Monte-Cristo was so thoroughly familiar and which in this instancehe translated only too readily and unerringly, to recount theparticulars of the fatal drive into the outskirts of the city and ofthe capture of Zuleika, Peppino and the equipage by the brigands. 

Monte-Cristo sat for an instant after he had concluded like onestupefied, so utterly overwhelmed was he by the unexpected anddistracting intelligence. Then he sprang to his feet and began pacingthe room, muttering as he walked:

"So the wretches have seized my daughter and servant by way of reprisalsand intend to hold them as hostages for the safety of Luigi Vampa! Whatis to be done? Let me think, let me think!"

He placed his hand to his forehead and accelerated his step, passingback and forth with such feverish rapidity that even Ali, impassible ashe was by nature, showed alarm, dreading the effect of all this fearfuland exhausting excitement upon his adored master to save whom from theslightest trouble or grief he would have freely and unhesitatingly givenhis life. Monte-Cristo continued to mutter:

"Vampa is a prisoner, closely confined in a dungeon of the Castle of St. Angelo. He is to be tried for his many crimes, among which I have causedto be included the abduction of Annunziata Solara and his attempt toblacken the fair fame of the Viscount Massetti. His conviction andpunishment as a bandit may be accepted as certain, whatever may be thefate of the other counts in the black indictment against him, for hostsof those whom he has robbed and maltreated are to testify, and the Romanauthorities have for some reason suddenly become his deadly, implacablefoes; they will show him no mercy! But the rest of the infamous band, what is to be done with them? Nothing, absolutely nothing, so far as Ihave been able to learn! Why? Possibly because the police fear to attackthe brigands in their stronghold! But I will change this item of theprogramme--yes, I will change it! I will at once to Cardinal Monti, complain that my daughter has been seized by the bandits and offer withthe aid of Captain Morrel to lead a detachment of soldiery against them. Animated by Maximilian and myself, the military will show courage foronce. The result cannot be doubtful. We shall capture the whole band, together with their famous fastness, and rescue Zuleika. Peppino, too, shall be delivered. I will not take Massetti with me--no, he is too rashand might imperil the success of the undertaking--no, I will not takehim, I will not even inform him of what I propose doing. The Cardinalwill scarcely venture to refuse me. Should he hesitate, however, I willshame him into consenting, I will threaten him with invoking the aid ofthe French minister! No, he will not refuse me! Now for the trial of mypower! Oh! Zuleika, my darling child, I will save you, I will save you!"

Hastily putting on his hat and throwing a light cloak about him, theCount of Monte-Cristo departed on his mission, a mission certainlyaltogether characteristic of the marvellous man. 

Cardinal Monti received him cordially, heard his complaint and, afterdemurring slightly, accepted his offer to lead the soldiers against theredoubtable brigands, agreeing to place two hundred of the Swiss Guardproperly officered and equipped at the disposal of himself and CaptainMorrel. It was decided that the expedition should start from the Castleof St. Angelo at ten o'clock that night and should be guided by a trustypeasant, then in the Cardinal's service, who professed to know the exactlocation of the bandits' retreat and the safest route to it. 

These preliminaries satisfactorily settled, Monte-Cristo, his heartoverflowing with joy, immediately returned to the Hôtel de France tonotify M. Morrel and to make his preparations for the coming campaign. Upon being informed of Zuleika's seizure by the outlaws and of the parther father wished him to take in her deliverance, Maximilian instantlyconsented, only too happy to have such a signal opportunity of servinghis benefactor. Zuleika's misfortune, however, distressed him greatly. 

"Does Valentine know of your daughter's capture?" he asked of the Count. 

"No, " answered Monte-Cristo, "and I must ask you not to tell her untilafter the result of the expedition is known. I wish to keep the wholematter a close secret lest young Massetti should hear of it and mar ourplans by his usual hot-headedness. With this view I have alreadyinstructed Ali, the only person save yourself in the Hôtel de France whois aware of the terrible blow that has fallen upon me, to refrain fromcommunicating the intelligence to any one. It is better thus, for thebrigands undoubtedly have spies in Rome at this time and the utmostcaution is advisable. "

M. Morrel readily assented to the wisdom of the Count's policy ofcomplete silence, and the twain separated to quietly prepare for thenight's perilous and exciting adventure. 

At half-past nine o'clock Monte-Cristo and Maximilian entered thecourt-yard of the grim Castle of St. Angelo, where the detachment of theSwiss Guard was already drawn up under arms awaiting orders. The Countwore a half military dress and had a sword at his side, while his friendwas clad in the full uniform of a Captain in the Army of France andsimilarly provided with the regulation weapon. Both he and Monte-Cristohad a couple of pistols in their belts, freshly and carefully loaded. 

The Captain of the Swiss Guard received them and presented the peasantwhom Cardinal Monti had sent to act as guide. Then he turned over thecommand of his men to Captain Morrel, who briefly addressed them inFrench, a language with which they were well acquainted, informing themthat he and his Excellency, the Count of Monte-Cristo, relied on everyman to do his duty in suppressing the banditti and rescuing from theirrude clutches a beautiful young French girl, no other than the Count'sown daughter. 

At the close of this address the soldiers saluted, the only way in whichthe military regulations permitted them to respond. 

Monte-Cristo and M. Morrel then had a brief conference with the peasantguide, who seemed very intelligent and thoroughly posted as to thebandits and their stronghold. The information he gave was in everyrespect satisfactory and it was abundantly plain that the man could beimplicitly relied upon. 

Everything was now in readiness and, as the hour of ten was sounded bythe clock of the Castle of St. Angelo, the troops headed by CaptainMorrel and the Count filed out of the court-yard and began their march. When the open country was reached the guide took up a position a triflein advance of the detachment and led the way. Complete silence wasmaintained and the utmost care taken to muffle the tramp of thesoldiers' feet. 

After marching until nearly midnight, the guide in a low, cautiouswhisper informed the Count and Maximilian that the bandits' fastness wasclose at hand. A brief halt for rest and recuperation was immediatelyordered; then the advance was resumed, followed by a struggle with thebrigands' sentinel, who was seized and overpowered before he could giveeven the slightest alarm. 

"Now, men, " said Captain Morrel, in a firm, commanding tone, "for aprompt dash and we shall trap all the wolves in their subterranean den!"

The cave had two entrances. The Count at the head of half the troopsspeedily possessed himself of one and Maximilian with the rest of thedetachment promptly seized the other. 

So far the success of the expedition had been complete. The outlaws werecaged and could not escape, but, nevertheless, it was probable that theywould make a desperate and bloody resistance. SimultaneouslyMonte-Cristo and Captain Morrel penetrated the gloomy depths with theirmen and a dozen torches quickly lighted illuminated the cavern as if bymagic. Instantly there arose a chorus of wild shouts uttered by thesurprised bandits, who, armed to the teeth, came thronging from everydirection. A fierce hand to hand battle ensued, the cavern echoing withthe rattle of musketry, the reports of pistols and the clash of swords. 

As had been anticipated the brigands contended desperately and with theutmost fury. They were brave, hardy wretches, and though hemmed in onall sides evidently hoped to triumph over the invaders of theirstronghold and drive them out in disorder and terror. Their formerexperience with the Swiss Guard and the police warranted them inentertaining this hope, but on the present occasion they reckonedwithout their host, for the soldiers had never before had such intrepid, determined and able leaders. 

The battle lasted for over an hour and it was not until many had beenkilled and wounded on both sides that the outlaws began to show signs ofwavering. Monte-Cristo and Captain Morrel performed prodigies of valor, animating and encouraging their troops both by word and example. Finallythe outlaws were completely subdued, such of them as had not been slainhaving been made prisoners. The Count escaped without a scratch, butMaximilian was slightly wounded in the left hand. 

When the firing and the clash, of swords had ceased, Captain Morrelgave the order to search the cave for Zuleika and Peppino, first placingsentinels at the entrances to guard against surprise and prevent theescape of any of the bandits who amid the confusion might slip fromtheir captors. 

"Where are the cells?" asked Monte-Cristo of the peasant guide, who hadmanfully borne his part in the struggle. 

"Follow me, " answered the man. "I will take you to them. "

Monte-Cristo now that the excitement of the fray had left him was filledwith anxiety for his daughter. What had happened to her since she hadbeen a captive in the bandits' den? Had her honor been respected as wellas her life? His suspense was the most terrible torture possible toconceive. He could scarcely restrain himself until he should learn thetruth, be it fatal or favorable. Maximilian was almost equally agitated, but managed to maintain a comparatively calm exterior that he might thebetter support and cheer his friend in this his hour of bitter need. 

The peasant, holding a torch above his head, conducted them into a dark, damp corridor, several soldiers following in charge of a lieutenant. Theparty had not gone many steps when a man's cries became audible, proceeding from a cell near at hand. The door of this cell was fastenedonly by a bar of iron, to remove which required but an instant, when itwas discovered that the cries came from Peppino, who having heard thenoise of the conflict and concluded that relief was near had at oncecommenced to shout that he might disclose his whereabouts to theinvaders. The ex-bandit was set at liberty and the search was continued. 

Presently a low moan struck the Count's attentive ear. 

"What was that?" he asked, with a start. 

"A moan that was no doubt uttered by your daughter!" answered the guide. 

"My daughter!" cried the Count. "Then, thank God, she is alive!"

They reached another cell, the door of which, like that of Peppino's, was fastened by a bar. Within the cell the low moaning continued. Monte-Cristo seized the bar, whirled it aside and flung open the door;then he sprang into the cell, calling wildly on his daughter. 

Zuleika was lying in a corner upon a heap of straw and moaningpiteously. At the sound of her father's voice, however, she was on herfeet in an instant and cast herself rapturously into his arms. 

"Are you safe, my darling child?" said the Count, covering her face withkisses. "Did the bandits respect you?"

"I am safe, dear father, " answered Zuleika, "safe and uninjured. Thebandits frightened me and the solitude and terrors of this dark, dismaldungeon have been fearful to endure. But all my troubles are over nowthat you are here!"

The Count then directed the guide to conduct them to the bandits'stables and there his horses and barouche were found. The equipage wastaken to the open air, and after placing his daughter in the vehicle theCount left her in charge of Peppino and several soldiers of the SwissGuard, returning to the cavern to bring the work of the expedition to aclose. 

When Monte-Cristo reached the point where the Swiss Guard and theirprisoners were assembled, he found Captain Morrel superintending theplacing of an aged bandit upon an improvised stretcher. 

"During your absence, Count, " said he, his face radiant with joy, "wemade the most important capture of the night! This old man is PasqualeSolara!"

"Where did you find him?" asked the Count. 

"In a large cell used by the outlaws as an infirmary. He says he ismortally wounded and slowly dying, that his wound was inflicted by aRoman nobleman who met him upon the highway--a very likely story, truly!"

"It is a fact, " answered Monte-Cristo. "The Roman nobleman who woundedhim was Giovanni Massetti! But, thank God, he is still alive and willprobably last until Vampa's trial at which I may be able to force him tospeak out. Have him carefully attended to, Maximilian!"

The captives were formed in line and, none being too much disabled towalk, save old Solara who was borne along on his stretcher, they weremarched to Rome surrounded by the triumphant Swiss Guard. Monte-Cristo, Maximilian and Zuleika followed in the Count's barouche, Peppinoofficiating as coachman. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

VAMPA'S TRIAL. 

The successful result of the raid upon the bandits made Monte-Cristo andCaptain Morrel the heroes of the hour in Rome. Everywhere they wentcrowds assembled to gaze upon them and they were greeted with heartycheers and loud acclamations of joy. Truth to tell the Roman people bothhigh and low had very much to thank them for. The outlaws' band wascompletely broken up and every member of it was safely bestowed in thedungeons of the Castle of St. Angelo, where, as already stated, theredoubtable leader the notorious brigand chief, Luigi Vampa himself, also languished, awaiting whatever disposition the authorities mightchoose to make of him with anything but stoicism, for he did not doubtthat it would go hard with him. Vampa's arrest was considered asdirectly due to Monte-Cristo, for had he not come to visit the Count itwas improbable that he would ever have been captured. By the advice ofMonte-Cristo also the bandits' subterranean retreat had been filled withpowder and blown to atoms. No wonder, therefore, the Romans weregrateful to the illustrious Frenchman and his able assistant CaptainMorrel. 

Old Pasquale Solara had been placed in a hospital where he was closelywatched and had the attendance of a competent physician, for the Counthad assured Cardinal Monti that he could perhaps be made an importantwitness against Vampa at his forthcoming trial. After examining theshepherd's wound the physician had given his opinion that it was fatal, but that by resorting to proper and judicious measures the old man'slife could be prolonged sufficiently to enable him to testify. 

Valentine was much affected when she heard from Zuleika's lips the storyof her seizure by the brigands and her imprisonment in the dark, dampcell of their cavern fastness, but her emotion was tempered with joythat her beloved friend had escaped with no other injury than the shockresulting from her fright and natural apprehensions. 

When Giovanni learned of his betrothed's dangerous adventure and theperils that had encompassed her his indignation knew no bounds, and inaddition he felt considerably hurt that Monte-Cristo had not allowed himto participate in her rescue. The Count and his daughter, however, succeeded in calming him and in convincing him that all had been donefor the best. He was further propitiated by Monte-Cristo's assurancethat he could now act openly and without fear of prejudicing his case, as the criminals were secured and the end was surely approaching. 

Cardinal Monti decided that Vampa's trial should take place within aweek and that the first charge investigated should be that relating tothe abduction of Annunziata Solara and the conspiracy against theViscount Massetti. This decision was brought about by the influence ofthe Count of Monte-Cristo, who represented to the Papal Secretary ofState the importance of utilizing the testimony of old Pasquale Solarawhile he was yet in a condition to give it. 

The Count resolved to make a final effort to convince Annunziata Solaraof Giovanni's innocence, though he had determined to employ her evidencein any event, trusting to the lawyers and the Court to extract suchadmissions from her as would tend to show that she was mistaken inregard to the identity of her abductor. He knew the former flower-girlwas conscientious and firmly believed in her theory, but still he wasnot without hope that she might be led to see matters as they reallywere. Besides, if her father should see fit to confess she could notfail to be convinced of Vampa's guilt and in that case the expression ofher conviction would be of the utmost value. 

In pursuit of his plan Monte-Cristo at once communicated with Mme. DeRancogne at the Refuge in Civita Vecchia, begging her to bringAnnunziata to Rome without an instant's delay. She promptly responded byappearing at the Hôtel de France with her protégée and the Countarranged an interview between the latter and young Massetti in hissalon. When Annunziata accompanied by the Superior of the Order ofSisters of Refuge entered the apartment and found Giovanni waiting forher there she flushed deeply and began to tremble. 

"Courage, my poor child, " said Mme. De Rancogne, soothingly, "courage!"

"Sister Annunziata, " said the Count, who was also in the salon, "haveno fear. All we wish in this peculiarly unfortunate matter is to get atthe truth. Hear what the Viscount has to say in his own behalf--that isonly justice!"

The flush on the girl's handsome countenance was succeeded by an ashenpaleness, but she eventually managed to obtain control of herself. Casting down her eyes, she said:

"I will hear what the Viscount Massetti has to say, but he will not, hecannot, deny his shameful and dishonorable conduct towards me!"

Giovanni, hardly less affected than the girl who supposed herself hisvictim, advanced to her and took her hand. She did not refuse to let himhold it in his, but studiously refrained from looking him in the face. 

"Annunziata, " said Massetti, humbly, "I do not deny that my conducttowards you in the past was altogether reprehensible and unpardonable. Ido not deny that circumstances so shaped themselves that I was made toseem a wretched, despicable criminal in your eyes; but, Annunziata, Istopped short of actual guilt, and as Heaven is my witness I had no handeither in your abduction or the horrible events that accompanied andfollowed it! This I swear, and this is God's truth!"

Annunziata lifted her eyes and gave him a searching glance. 

"I understand your anxiety to clear yourself, " she said, slowly. "With astain on your name you cannot marry the Count of Monte-Cristo'sbeautiful daughter!"

It was a keen, cutting thrust and made Giovanni wince, but he recoveredhimself instantly. 

"I am anxious to clear my name that I may wed Zuleika, " he replied, steadily and firmly, "but I am also anxious because I am innocent of allcriminal action--innocent of your abduction, of your dishonor and ofyour brother's blood! Annunziata, do you still decline to believe mysolemn assertions?"

"I would gladly believe them if I could, " responded the girl; "but, alas! I cannot! I saw your face when your mask fell from it thatdreadful night in the forest! I heard the tones of your voice afterwardsin the hut guarded by the bandits! What more convincing evidence could Irequire?"

"You were mistaken, Annunziata, you were fearfully mistaken!" cried theyoung Italian, overwhelming despair seizing upon him and crushing thehope in his heart. He could not convince the former flower-girl, hecould not even shake her convictions! He had failed with her asMonte-Cristo had previously failed at the Refuge in Civita Vecchia! Upto this time he had continued to hold Annunziata's hand, but now hedropped it as if it had been some venomous serpent. 

Annunziata was deeply affected, but her emotion arose from an altogetherdifferent cause. She felt her shame and disgrace and was, besides, horrified at the idea that she had once hung upon the honeyed words ofsuch a scoundrel as in her view the Viscount Massetti had proved to be. 

Monte-Cristo was now thoroughly satisfied that Giovanni could effectnothing with Annunziata and that a further prolongation of the interviewwould only be fraught with additional suffering for both the girl andyoung Massetti; he, therefore, requested Mme. De Rancogne to take herprotégée to her apartment, and when they had quitted the salon said tothe Viscount:

"We must trust this girl to the lawyers and judges, Giovanni. Theyperhaps may be sufficiently shrewd to shake her testimony even shouldold Solara elect to maintain silence on the subject that vitallyconcerns us. "

At the appointed time the trial of Luigi Vampa began in the JudgmentHall of the Vatican, which was crowded to its utmost capacity, both menand women being present and striving to push forward so as to obtain aglimpse of the notorious brigand chief and of the first witnessAnnunziata Solara. 

Cardinal Monti in person presided, assisted by two subordinateCardinals. In the portion of the hall railed off for the use of the barsat Monte-Cristo and the Viscount Massetti with their lawyers, the bestand most acute advocates in Rome, while just without the rail were M. Morrel and Espérance, the latter having come from Paris expressly toattend the trial, though at his request his testimony was not to bedemanded of him. Just within the rail and close beside Maximilian andthe son of Monte-Cristo Valentine and Zuleika were seated, both closelyveiled. Near them sat Mme. De Rancogne and the unfortunate AnnunziataSolara, clad in the dark gray habits of the Order of the Sisters ofRefuge, their white faces plainly visible beneath the nuns' bonnets ofspotless linen they wore. Peppino sat beside the Count. 

There was a low murmur of conversation in the Judgment Hall, as theaudience discussed the probable issue of the trial and expressed diverseopinions, though all were agreed that whatever might be the decision ofthe Court in regard to the abduction and conspiracy Luigi Vampa wouldnot escape punishment for the crimes he had committed in his capacity ofchief of the bandits. 

Presently Cardinal Monti arose, magnificent in his princely apparel andglittering jewels, waving his hand for silence. His gesture wasinstantly obeyed and the entire hall grew still as death. Then theCardinal resumed his seat on the judicial bench, and, turning to theclerk of the Court, commanded him to proclaim the session opened. Thiswas done, whereupon the Cardinal said, in a voice distinctly audible inall parts of the vast apartment:

"Bring in the accused!"

A moment later Luigi Vampa entered a raised enclosure serving thepurpose of a dock in the custody of two stalwart and thoroughly armedmilitary policemen. His face was ashen, but he glanced about himnonchalantly and defiantly. When his eyes rested upon Monte-Cristo andthe Viscount Massetti he smiled in a peculiar sort of way as if he feltconvinced that all their labors would be in vain. Suddenly he saw thetwo gray-robed women in their linen nuns' bonnets, starting slightly ashe recognized Annunziata Solara, but otherwise evincing no emotion. 

The men and women in the distant portions of the hall got upon thebenches, craning their necks to see the accused, and there arose amurmur, a faint hiss, that was promptly checked by the vigilant Courtofficials who were marching here and there with their long white staffsin their hands and their black caps upon their heads. 

Then Cardinal Monti again arose, speaking in a deep, impressive voice:

"Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, " said he, "you stand here accused ofmany grave crimes, but the charge which the Court will first consider isblacker than all the rest; that charge, Luigi Vampa, prisoner at thebar, is that you abducted and afterwards seduced a peasant girl namedAnnunziata Solara and, in collusion with her father, Pasquale Solara, conspired to throw the onus and suspicion of your crime upon an innocentman, the Viscount Giovanni Massetti. What say you, Luigi Vampa, prisonerat the bar, are you guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty, your Eminence!" responded the unabashed brigand chief. 

At this there was another murmur in the hall which was promptlysuppressed as before. 

"Accused, you can take your seat, " said the Cardinal. 

Vampa did as directed, the policemen remaining standing at his sideswith drawn swords in their hands. 

"Let the first witness be called, " said the Cardinal, addressing theclerk of the Court. 

That official arose and called out, in a loud voice:

"Annunziata Solara!"

The former flower-girl came forward, slowly and timidly, and went uponthe elevated witness stand, where the accustomed oath was administeredto her by the clerk. 

Again there was a general craning of necks, the women showing thestrongest anxiety to behold the girl who was said to have been Vampa'svictim. 

In a low, faltering voice Annunziata proceeded to give her testimony. She repeated her sad story precisely as she had done before, entirelyexonerating the bandit chief and throwing the whole weight of the crimeupon the shoulders of the Viscount Massetti. 

This was the reverse of what the audience had expected and the murmur ofsurprise was universal. 

The prisoner glanced at Monte-Cristo and Massetti with a radiant look oftriumph. 

The Viscount's lawyers then took the witness in hand, but shrewd andable as they were they utterly failed to make her swerve even a hair'sbreadth from her evidence. She returned to her place beside Mme. DeRancogne, confident that she had done her duty and uttered not a singlesyllable that was untrue. 

Peppino followed her. He repeated almost word for word the details hehad given the Count of Monte-Cristo in Paris. His recital was so vivid, so circumstantial, that it made a wonderful impression both upon theCourt and the audience. When he spoke of old Pasquale Solara's infamoussale of his beautiful daughter to Luigi Vampa the male auditors couldscarcely restrain their indignation and the women fairly screamed withhorror, the utmost efforts of the Court officers being required to forcethem into anything like quietude. Another sensation was caused byPeppino's exposure of the nefarious conspiracy by which the innocentyoung Viscount was brought and kept under the suspicion of murder andabduction. When he concluded his narrative and quitted the witness standhe and Vampa exchanged glances of bitter and vindictive hate, and itrequired all the strength of the policemen in charge of the prisoner tokeep him from leaping from the dock and attempting to take summaryvengeance upon the fearless and outspoken witness. 

The Viscount Massetti now took the stand. He gave the full history ofhis acquaintance with Annunziata Solara from the meeting in the Piazzadel Popolo to the encounter with Vampa in the forest and theadministration of the oath of silence, speaking with such evidentsincerity and feeling that his testimony acquired additional weightthereby. The brigand chief watched him closely, listening to histestimony with a contemptuous smile. When the young Italian returned toMonte-Cristo and resumed his seat his pale visage was a mass ofperspiration and great agitation had possession of him. 

"Call Pasquale Solara, " said the Cardinal to the clerk, after referringto a paper upon the desk in front of him. 

"Pasquale Solara!" cried the clerk, immediately. 

There was a stir in the audience and four soldiers of the Swiss Guardadvanced towards the judicial bench, bearing a stretcher upon which wasextended the emaciated form of the aged shepherd. 

As her father was borne past her, Annunziata uttered a cry and arose togo to him, but Mme. De Rancogne gently pulled her back into her chair, whispering to her that he was in the custody of the Court and that shecould only see him after the trial was concluded, when the requisitepermission would be obtained for her. 

Old Pasquale was lifted from the stretcher by a couple of soldiers andaided to mount the witness stand. He was so faint and weak that it wasnecessary to hold him in an upright position after he had with greatdifficulty mounted the stand. Even then he trembled like a paralytic andit was some moments before he could answer the questions addressed tohim. Vampa regarded him with intense anxiety, eagerly leaning forward tocatch the feeble, almost imperceptible sounds that issued from his lips. 

"May it please your Eminence, " said old Pasquale, painfully pausingafter every word, "I am a dying man. The hospital physician who hasaccompanied me and is now in the Judgment Hall assures me that I canlast but a few days at most. I have been a great sinner, but I do notdesire to go before my angered God with all the weight of my iniquityupon me; therefore, I have resolved to speak, to tell all I know!"

The spectators in the body of the hall shuddered. Old Solara's voicedid not reach them, but they felt instinctively that some dreadfulrevelation was either being or about to be made. Monte-Cristo andMassetti half arose in their seats; they were near enough to grasp thepurport of what the shepherd had said and its effect upon them wasabsolutely overwhelming; they had expected that Pasquale would eithertell a cunningly fabricated tale calculated to shield Vampa or takerefuge in stony, stubborn silence, but instead he was going to make aclean breast of the whole terrible crime! Annunziata had also heard andwas listening for what should follow with a countenance almost as whiteas her nun's bonnet. Mme. De Rancogne caught her hands and held themfirmly; she too was startled beyond expression by old Solara's words andfeared the effect of further revelations upon her protégée. Zuleika, Valentine, M. Morrel and Espérance were too far away from the witnessstand to comprehend a syllable, but like the spectators in the body ofthe hall they divined what was on the point of coming, holding theirbreath in fear and expectation. As for Vampa, he could hardly be keptstill; his fingers worked nervously as if he desired to strangle thedying witness, and he glanced at him with the flashing eyes of aferocious tiger brought to bay. 

Old Pasquale continued, amid the deepest silence:

"I do not seek to shield myself. Vampa is guilty both of the abductionand of the plot to ruin the Viscount Massetti, but I was his tempter andto me he owes his crime! However, with the murder of my son Lorenzo Ihad nothing to do--the chief alone is responsible for that! But Itempted him with the beauty of my poor daughter Annunziata! Greedy forgold I sold her to him! The abduction was proposed by me and executed byhim! The plan to throw young Massetti under suspicion also originatedwith me, Vampa and myself carrying it out together. In forming the planI was actuated by a desire to obtain vengeance upon old Count Massettifor a wrong he did me in the past! Now, your Eminence, you know thewhole black history!"

Pasquale Solara ceased and sank back into the arms of the two soldierswho were supporting him, totally overcome by the terrible exertions hehad made in delivering his crushing testimony, and lay there a helpless, quivering mass. As they were about to remove him from the witness standa sudden thought occurred to him, and with a herculean effort hestraightened himself up, making a sign to the Court that he hadsomething further to communicate. 

"Speak, witness, " said Cardinal Monti, in response to this sign. 

"Your Eminence, " resumed the shepherd, slowly and painfully, "I wish tosay yet another word. I received my death wound at the hands of theViscount Massetti!"

There was a quick stir among those who heard this unexpected accusationand a score of eyes, including those of Cardinal Monti and hisassociates on the judicial bench, were instantly fixed upon the youngItalian, who glanced at Monte-Cristo and the lawyers with a look ofconsternation. The Count was about to address the Court in explanation, when old Solara, who had paused to recover breath, added:

"But I richly deserve what I received and it is fitting that I shoulddie by the hand of the man I sought to ruin! The wound, however, wasdealt me in a perfectly fair duel and with my latest breath I shallexonerate the Viscount from all blame in the matter as I do now!"

The concluding portion of old Solara's last speech was a surprise. Massetti drew a long breath of relief. It was scarcely probable that hewould be prosecuted by the Roman authorities for fighting a duel withthe shepherd under the circumstances, and the wounded man hadvoluntarily removed every suspicion of foul play from him. Monte-Cristoand the lawyers cast congratulatory glances at the young Italian. Hisrehabilitation now only needed Vampa's conviction and sentence to beperfect, and it could not for an instant be doubted that they wouldspeedily follow. 

The effect of her father's testimony or rather confession uponAnnunziata had been startling. It completely shattered all herconvictions, placing her misfortunes in a new and horrible light. TheViscount was innocent as he had steadily asserted, and her parent stoodrevealed to her in all his moral hideousness; he was a monster, a demon;he had made his fearful revelations only when death was upon him andreparation was impossible; besides, there was nothing noble or elevatingabout his remorse--it was thoroughly characteristic of theman--altogether selfish, induced solely by the fear of consequences inthe world to come. Annunziata felt as if all faith in humanity had beenwithdrawn from her, and as she gradually realized the full meaning ofher father's words she closed her eyes and with a gasp sank faintinginto the arms of Mme. De Rancogne, who, hardly less shocked andsurprised than the poor girl herself, used every effort to revive her, finally succeeding. 

In the little group consisting of Zuleika, Valentine, M. Morrel andEspérance uncertainty prevailed for some moments. They had been unableto catch what old Solara had said, to glean more than a general ideathat his testimony had been against Vampa. As soon, however, as hisemotion permitted him to do so Giovanni went to them and communicatedthe glad tidings. Zuleika was almost overcome by the immensity of herjoy and with difficultly restrained herself from embracing her loverdirectly in the face of the august Court and the assembled spectators. Valentine was ready to weep with delight and her husband felt as muchtriumph as if he had won a decisive victory over the combined enemies ofFrance. As for Espérance, he was both enraptured and ashamed--enrapturedthat the dark stain was removed from Giovanni's name and ashamed that hehad been so blind and unjust as to wrongfully suspect him. 

When the gist of Pasquale Solara's evidence was whispered around amongthe audience the Court officers were powerless to suppress theexpressions of horror and enthusiasm. Had the shepherd not been closelyguarded by the soldiers he certainly would have been torn to pieces andtrodden under foot, so great was the tide of popular indignation againsthim. At last, however, the tumult subsided and Cardinal Monti, addressing the brigand chief, said:

"Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, you have heard the testimony. Whathave you to say in your defense?"

Vampa forced to his feet by the policemen replied, doggedly andsullenly:

"Nothing!"

Cardinal Monti then turned to his associates on the judicial bench and abrief conference ensued, after which he arose and facing Vampa said, solemnly:

"Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, the judgment of the Papal Court isthat you are guilty, first of the murder of Lorenzo Solara, though as heattacked you the crime has been placed in the second degree, second ofthe abduction of Annunziata Solara, and third of conspiracy to indeliblyblacken the character of a worthy Roman nobleman, the Viscount GiovanniMassetti. Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, the sentence of the PapalCourt is that you be taken hence back to your dungeon in the Castle ofSt. Angelo, there to undergo solitary imprisonment for life. As thissentence renders it unnecessary to proceed to an examination of theother and less important charge against you, that of robbery on thepublic highways and of maltreating your captives, your trial is now atan end. Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, may God have mercy upon youand bring you to repentance and ultimate salvation!"

Cardinal Monti resumed his seat amid loud murmurs of applause andsatisfaction. When these died away the clerk declared the Courtadjourned, the convict was removed and the audience slowly dispersed. 

Mme. De Rancogne and Annunziata Solara immediately returned to theRefuge in Civita Vecchia, where the poor girl lay prostrated for manyweeks. After his confession of his infamous deeds she had no furtherdesire to see her despicable and degraded father. 

Monte-Cristo and his party rode joyously back to the Hôtel de France inthe Count's barouche. 

That evening no happier persons existed upon earth than Giovanni andZuleika. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

JOY UNBOUNDED. 

The news of the result of Luigi Vampa's trial spread with the utmostrapidity throughout Rome and occasioned the wildest rejoicing, stillfurther augmenting the popularity of Monte-Cristo and Captain Morrel, who were credited by the Roman populace with having brought about thedreaded brigand chief's conviction and inspired his sentence. Everywhere, while the vast importance of old Pasquale Solara's testimonywas recognized and admitted, the wretched shepherd himself was execratedas an unnatural, heartless father, as a diabolical scoundrel without asingle redeeming trait. The fact of his having turned State's evidencesaved him from the heavy hand of the law, but his mortal wound wouldsoon rid the world of him and this circumstance occasioned heartycongratulation in all quarters. 

The morning succeeding Vampa's trial a messenger arrived at the Hôtel deFrance from the Count Massetti, bearing a brief note in which the agednobleman begged his son to come to him at once. Giovanni exhibited thisnote triumphantly to Zuleika and the friends who had labored sountiringly and successfully in his cause, and, together with the Countof Monte-Cristo and M. Morrel, immediately repaired to the PalazzoMassetti in Monte-Cristo's barouche. The old Count received his son withopen arms and cordially greeted Monte-Cristo and Maximilian. 

"Giovanni, " said he, frankly, "I admit that I was wrong, that I was ledastray by what seemed to me to be convincing proof. My pride and honorrevolted at the stain apparently cast upon them and I acted as almostany Roman father would have done. I acknowledge that I was hasty, that Iproceeded to extremities without due reflection or examination. Theseadmissions in the presence of your noble, self-sacrificing friends costme dear, but, you observe that I do not shrink from them, notwithstanding the deep humiliation. I humbly ask your forgiveness andrestore all I have taken from you. Again you are my beloved son andheir. "

The old nobleman paused, greatly affected; his eyes were full of tears, tears of mingled contrition and delight. The Viscount's emotion was suchthat for an instant he was unable to reply. He, however, recoveredcontrol of himself with a mighty effort, and said, in a voice tremulouswith his colossal joy:

"Father, I have nothing to forgive. Appearances warranted all you did, and I can only thank Heaven that the truth has been developed before itwas too late!"

With these words he threw himself upon the old Patrician's neck. TheCount embraced him, drawing him to his heart and their tears mingledtogether, for Giovanni also was weeping now. 

Slowly and as if reluctantly releasing his recovered and rehabilitatedson, the Count turned to M. Morrel. 

"Captain, " he said, "I owe you an ample apology for my haughty andimperious treatment when you stated to me the object of your mission toRome. I tender it at this moment and venture to hope that you willaccept it even though it comes at the eleventh hour!"

"Count, " replied Maximilian, "I should be worse than a boor did I notaccept it. Here is my hand in token of my renewed friendship andesteem. "

Old Massetti took the Captain's proffered hand and pressed it warmly. 

"You fully sustain the reputation of the great nation to which youbelong, " said he, with the utmost cordiality, "--you are as noble as youare generous!"

"Count, " answered M. Morrel, bowing profoundly, "you flatter me! Sayrather that I am a French soldier and as such never shrink from my dutyno matter in what shape it may come!"

"As you please, Captain, " returned the aged nobleman, with an agreeablesmile. "To my apology I must, however, add my gratitude for all you havedone to aid Giovanni and in the expression of that gratitude I mustinclude Mme. Morrel, of whose heroic exploit in the Colosseum andsubsequent devotion to my son in his hour of mental darkness I haveheard. "

Maximilian again bowed profoundly. 

Advancing to the Count of Monte-Cristo the elder Massetti said:

"Now, your Excellency, it is your turn. Your name and deeds have longbeen familiar to me, but to whom are they not familiar! Still, thoughyou have frequently honored Rome with your illustrious presence, neverhave I had the pleasure of meeting you until this happy day when I, too, am included in the long list of those who have received overwhelmingbenefits at your hands. Edmond Dantès, Count of Monte-Cristo, I owe toyou my son's restoration to sanity brought about by little less than amiracle, a blessing almost as great as his rehabilitation, for whichalso I am on the endless roll of your debtors. "

Monte-Cristo bowed, but made no reply. 

"My debt, vast as it is, " continued old Massetti, "is I learn to be yetfurther augmented by an alliance between our two houses, and I need nottell you that this increase of my obligations will be a burden of joythat I shall accept with thanks to Heaven for the signal favor shownme!"

Monte-Cristo repeated his bow and said:

"You ratify the compact between our two children then, Count Massetti?"

"With more delight than I can express!" replied the latter, enthusiastically. "May I ask another favor of your Excellency?" headded, suddenly. 

"Certainly, " said Monte-Cristo, somewhat astonished and casting a lookof inquiry at his venerable host. 

"In that case, " resumed the aged nobleman, "I would like to welcome yourdaughter immediately to the Palazzo Massetti!"

"She shall be sent for without an instant's delay, " answeredMonte-Cristo. "Giovanni, return in the barouche to the Hôtel de Franceand bring Zuleika to your father!"

The young man joyously obeyed and in a very short space of timeMonte-Cristo's daughter came timidly and blushingly into the presence ofthe Count Massetti, leaning upon the arm of her betrothed, whosecountenance fairly shone with happiness. The youthful pair wereaccompanied by Mme. Morrel. 

When the presentations had been made, the venerable Patrician stood fora moment contemplating his future daughter-in-law. 

"So this is Zuleika!" he said at length. "She is a beautiful andcharming girl, and I do not doubt that the attractions of her mind arefully equal to those of her person! My child, " he continued, addressingMonte-Cristo's daughter, "I welcome you to my home and to my heart! MakeGiovanni as happy as I know he will make you! Now, my children, accept afather's blessing!"

The young couple knelt at the old man's feet and he extended his handsabove their heads. When they arose he took Zuleika in his arms andtenderly kissed her. 

In the general joy Valentine was not forgotten, the aged Count renewingto her the expression of his gratitude he had previously made to herhusband in her behalf. 

It was ultimately arranged that the marriage contract should be signedwithin a week, and this formality was complied with in the presence ofmany of the young Viscount's relatives, of Monte-Cristo, Mercédès, M. And Mme. Albert de Morcerf, Espérance and M. And Mme. Morrel, Mercédèsand the Morcerfs having come post-haste to Rome to take part in theauspicious event. Monte-Cristo gave his daughter the dowry of a Princessand his liberality was fully matched by that of the Count Massetti whosettled upon Giovanni a fortune equal to that of some orientalpotentate. 

The marriage took place in Rome and was a grand affair, the weddingfestivities lasting all day and far into the night. The happy occasionhad the character of a public rejoicing, for the populace grateful tothe Count of Monte-Cristo and Maximilian Morrel for the suppression ofLuigi Vampa and his dangerous outlaws, who for years had been the terrorof rich and poor alike, paraded the streets in vast bodies in honor ofZuleika's nuptials with the man whom the notorious brigand chief had sonearly succeeded in overwhelming with irretrievable ruin and disgrace. 

From a very early hour in the morning the Palazzo Massetti wassurrounded by cheering and enthusiastic throngs, and by eight o'clockthe vast gardens of the Massettis' were thrown open freely to all whochose to enter. The preparations there were on a gigantic and princelyscale. Huge tables had been placed in various broad alleys and literallygroaned beneath the weight of the abundant and inviting refreshments, while vast casks of excellent wines were on tap. An army of servantswaited upon the people, liberally supplying them with the appetizingedibles and the exhilarating product of the vintage. The Papal andFrench flags were everywhere displayed in company, and the beauty of thedecorations of the gardens was such as to excite universal wonder andadmiration. The health of the Viscount Massetti and his charming bridewas drunk thousands of times amid acclamations of delight, butthroughout the whole colossal assemblage perfect order was preserved, the military police on duty finding their occupation a sinecure. 

Immediately in front of the Palazzo Massetti a triumphal arch had beenerected. It was covered with the intertwined ensigns of Rome and Franceand at its apex bore an appropriate motto formed of creamy white orangeblossoms and scarlet roses. 

The interior of the palazzo rivaled in dazzling splendor the most superband gorgeous vision that ever entranced a devotee of hatchis whiledreaming under the potent influence of his favorite drug. 

In the principal salon were gathered many personages with whom thereader is familiar, all in festal attire--the Count of Monte-Cristo andhis beloved wife Mercédès, their friends Maximilian and ValentineMorrel, Espérance, Mlle. Louise d' Armilly and M. And Madame Albert deMorcerf. Many noble relatives of the groom were also present, to saynothing of hosts of acquaintances. Old Count Massetti, who seemedrejuvenated and whose venerable countenance was wreathed in smiles ofjoy, moved about among his guests the happiest of the happy. 

Presently a door was thrown open, a valet announced the bride and groomand Giovanni entered proudly with the lovely Zuleika hanging upon hisarm, her beauty heightened by her blushes and diffidence. She wore amagnificent robe of white satin that a Queen might have envied and theradiance of diamonds of inestimable value flashed from a tastefulnecklace that adorned her pearly throat; upon her night black hairrested a wreath of orange blossoms and her flowing bridal veil wasfastened back by a sparkling emerald pin. . A murmur of admiration andapproval arose from the guests as they beheld Monte-Cristo's daughterand noted her unequaled charms. 

The procession to St. Peter's was witnessed by compact masses ofspectators, who loudly cheered the bride and groom and hailed withtumultuous applause all the well-known personages as they in turnappeared. 

Within the vast cathedral the concourse was immense, but was kept at asuitable distance by uniformed ushers. 

The Pope himself united the young couple in the holy bonds of wedlock, having consented to do so in consequence of his high esteem for theMassetti house, the oldest and most aristocratic in his dominions, andout of consideration for the Count of Monte-Cristo, whose wonderfulhistory had penetrated even the august portals of the Vatican. At theclose of the impressive ceremony His Holiness blessed the newly-madehusband and wife, and immediately afterwards the grand organ burst outwith a triumphal peal, an unseen choir chanting a jubilant marriagehymn, whereupon the bride and groom surrounded by their bridesmaids andgroomsmen, Espérance holding the first place among the latter, receivedthe congratulations of their relatives and friends. 

That night there was unbounded festivity at the Palazzo Massetti, theglad celebration terminating with a grand ball and an elaborate supper. The next morning Giovanni and Zuleika started upon an extended bridaltour which was to embrace the most interesting portions of Europe. 

Eventually they settled in Paris, as they had originally decided, whereGiovanni bought a magnificent residence, furnishing it with all theluxury of the orient. 

Their married life was as happy as it was favored, and Zuleika never hadoccasion to regret that she had clung to Giovanni when all the rest ofthe world seemed to have deserted him. 

Espérance and the young husband at once became as fast friends as ever, and the dark cloud that had separated them in the past was completelyforgotten. 

The Count of Monte-Cristo and Mercédès continued to lead a tranquil andcharming existence in the palatial mansion on the Rue du Helder. Uponthe elevation of Louis Napoleon to power the Count, who distrusted himand his schemes, abandoned politics and the agitation of public lifeforever, contenting himself with doing all the good in his power andaiding the needy in a quiet, unostentatious way. His daughter and herhusband spent a great deal of their time at the family mansion, and theCount and Mercédès acquired additional delight thereby. Albert deMorcerf, his wife and Mlle. Louise d' Armilly remained inmates of theMonte-Cristo residence, aiding not a little in promoting the comfort andhappiness of their generous and agreeable hosts. 

Maximilian Morrel and his wife returned to Marseilles, but they werefrequently in Paris and never failed to find vast enjoyment andgratification in the society of the Monte-Cristos, the Massettis andtheir friends. 

Giovanni's father died a year or two after the marriage of his son, leaving him his title, his palaces, his vineyard and all his colossalwealth; but even this change in his condition did not induce the youngCount to return to Rome, where the sad associations of the past were toopowerful for him. 

Old Solara expired in the hospital at Rome a few days subsequent toVampa's trial, and Annunziata lived long with Mme. De Rancogne in theRefuge at Civita Vecchia, drawing what consolation she could fromabundant good works. 

Peppino and Beppo remained in the service of the Count of Monte-Cristo, leading honest and upright lives. 

Waldmann and Siebecker were caught red-handed in the commission of amurder and ended their iniquitous association on the scaffold, the knifeof the guillotine ridding the world of two extremely dangerous wretches. 

As for Danglars, he suddenly disappeared from Paris one day and washeard of no more. 

THE END.