After his fearful and exhausting duel with old Pasquale Solara in which he had been so nearly vanquished and so signally favored by Fate, the Viscount Massetti dragged himself rather than ran through the chestnut grove by the roadside, pausing now and then to glance back through the trees and note what was taking place among Vampa's bandits. His wounded antagonist was evidently unconscious, for the brigands were bending over him, some of them seeming to be engaged in endeavors to restore him to his senses. Another circumstance tending to confirm this supposition was the absence of pursuit, for had the shepherd been able to give even the most fragmentary information relative to the encounter, Vampa's men would have immediately devoted their attention to a search for his successful assailant, and in Giovanni's present condition of exhaustion his capture could not have been doubtful.
The young Italian did not waste a moment, but made his way towards Rome as rapidly as he was able, though his progress was necessarily toilsome and painful in the extreme. Having at length reached the bank of a small brook at a safe distance from the scene of the conflict, he washed the dust andsweat from his face, and held his benumbed hand in the cool, limpid water until the blood resumed its normal circulation. Then he arranged his torn and disordered garments so as not to attract too much attention from the curious pedestrians he would be sure to meet on the outskirts of the city, resuming his journey strengthened and refreshed. Contrary to his expectations he eventually gained the Hôtel de France without exciting any special observation or comment. Once in his own apartment he carefully locked the door and, casting himself upon his bed, breathed freely for the first time since old Solara had fallen by his hand.
His thoughts, however, were not altogether of a reassuring nature. He had taken an Italian's vengeance upon the despicable old Pasquale Solara, who certainly merited all he had received, but how would Monte-Cristo look at the affair when he learned of it as he most assuredly would when he began his campaign against Vampa, if not before? Undoubtedly with strong disapprobation and displeasure. The Count had cautioned him to keep out of sight, to restrain his impetuosity, and he had done neither. On the contrary he had shown himself to the shepherd, declared his identity and assumed the responsibility of dealing with him, though, to be sure, he had given him a chance to defend himself. If Solara was dead, if he had expired without making any revelation, his secret was secure and even Monte-Cristo could not unearth it, but would not the death of old Pasquale deprive the Count of a mostimportant witness, a most important factor in his rehabilitation? Perhaps so, perhaps not, for it was by no means certain that Monte-Cristo could force Solara to confess and make at least partial and tardy amends for his atrocious misdeeds. It was highly probable that Annunziata's wretched father, even if brought to bay, would persist in preserving a stony and unbroken silence, would make no admissions whatever. Taking this view of the matter the Viscount felt relieved and, composing himself on his couch, yielded to the influence of extreme fatigue and fell asleep. His slumber was profound and dreamless. Exactly how long he slept he knew not, but meanwhile an event as unexpected as it was portentous occurred almost within earshot of where he lay, an event brought about by his rash and inconsiderate action of that morning.
Monte-Cristo's salon was opposite to Massetti's chamber, a wide corridor separating the two apartments. It was late in the afternoon and the Count, seated at his desk, was pondering over his plans in relation to the 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 to be of use was limited to encouraging Zuleika and exercising a proper degree of surveillance over the lovers when such surveillance was possible. Peppino and Beppo, too, were comparatively useless, though by careful and well-directed inquiries they had ascertained that Luigi Vampa and his band hadchanged their quarters from the old rendezvous, locating in a fastness that could not be approached without great difficulty and danger. None of the brigands now visited Rome and even Vampa himself seemed distrustful of the future. According to the intelligence gathered by Peppino and Beppo he constantly went about in various disguises that defied detection, studiously avoiding all his accustomed haunts. With regard to the brigand chief's actions Monte-Cristo could entertain but one of two opinions—either he was filled with remorse for his shameful conduct towards poor Annunziata Solara and for his complicity with old Pasquale in bringing the innocent Viscount under suspicion, which was doubtful, or he was afraid that Roman justice stimulated by young Massetti and such friends as he still possessed would overtake him, which was the more probable. The Count had not hoped for much from Annunziata Solara, though he had calculated somewhat on the effect upon her of his assurance that he possessed conclusive proof of Giovanni's innocence. His recent interview with the girl, however, had established the fact that she firmly believed the Viscount guilty, and it was fair to presume that she would retain her belief in the face of everything with all the proverbial obstinacy of woman. Besides, after all, what was his conclusive proof? Simply the unsupported assertions of a former member of Vampa's band, who in making them had clearly been actuated by a desire of wreaking personal vengeance upon old Pasquale Solara!
The Count was not a little discouraged, but hisown conviction of the truth of Peppino's statement was as strong as ever and, notwithstanding all the apparently insurmountable obstacles, he did not doubt that he would eventually find some way to force Vampa and the shepherd into a full confirmation of every diabolical detail related by the ex-bandit in the cell of the police poste in Paris.
As he sat thus communing with his sombre thoughts and reflecting that the delay might stretch out into many months, a knock was heard at his door and in response to his permission Peppino entered the salon.
A glance at the man's pale and agitated countenance was sufficient to tell 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 himself that his master was alone, came close to him, bending down and whispering in his ear:
"Signor Count, a strange visitor is below, asking to see you. He is garbed like a Roman noble and his face is made up with paints and cosmetics like that of an actor on the stage of a theatre. Still, I think I have pierced his disguise and that he is no less a personage than Luigi Vampa himself!"
"Ah!" said the Count, rising, with a smile of satisfaction. "Heaven grant that you are correct! If Vampa is here, his visit will simplify matters."
"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 been impatiently awaiting an opportunity to meet him?" asked Monte-Cristo, in amazement.
"Because," answered the Italian, with an unmistakable display of fear, "he may have divined your mission to Rome and his business with you here to-day may be assassination!"
Monte Cristo laughed heartily.
"My good fellow," said he, in a reassuring tone, "dismiss your childish terrors. Vampa will not dare even to attempt to harm me! Show the mysterious 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 the suspicious visitor.
Monte-Cristo advanced to meet the new comer, who silently pointed to Peppino, motioning towards the door. The Count nodded to the ex-bandit and with a slow step he left the room.
Although Vampa was carefully disguised and even elegantly dressed in the fashionable 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 his arms as soon as they were alone. "What do you want with me?"
The brigand chief did not seem either disconcerted or surprised even in the 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 your extraordinary keenness and penetration, Signor Count, but, to confess the truth, my disguise was not intended to deceive you; its sole object was to secure me safe entrance to and exit from Rome which of late has become 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 must be of vast importance since you have taken so much trouble to execute it!"
"It is of vast importance, Signor Count. This morning one of the most efficient members of my band, old Pasquale Solara, was attacked and severely 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 not conceal his chagrin. The Viscount's rashness and impetuosity would ruin all!
"What I say is true," continued Vampa, "and I have come to you to protest. You must restrain this Viscount Massetti, this reckless madman! He professes to have a grudge against Pasquale Solara and there is no telling to what length he may go if you do not control him. Had Pasquale been able to speak when discovered lying bathed in blood upon thehighway by some of the members of my band, young Massetti would have been pursued, captured and made to pay for his murderous assault with his life; but it was only later, when brought into my presence, that he became sufficiently conscious to relate what had happened. Signor Count, I wish to respect your friends, but they on their part must respect me and my band!"
"Luigi Vampa," replied Monte-Cristo, sternly, "you say that young Massetti has a grudge against old Pasquale Solara! What you seek to belittle with the name of grudge is simply just indignation for an outrage such as human beings rarely commit! This you know!—you to whom Solara basely sold his daughter!—you who plotted with the aged scoundrel that the charge of abduction and murder might fall upon the Viscount's innocent shoulders when you, Luigi Vampa, were the guilty man!"
The brigand chief started and grew pale beneath the paint and cosmetics with which his visage was thickly coated.
"You have been deceived, Signor Count!" he stammered, taken at a disadvantage, but nevertheless speaking guardedly and endeavoring to put on a bold front. "The girl herself, Annunziata Solara, will swear to you that the Viscount Giovanni Massetti was her abductor and the author of her ruin!"
"Yes," replied Monte-Cristo, bitterly, "she will and does say so, for she has been completely blinded by the cunning, fiendish stratagems you resorted to, aided and abetted by that infamous miscreant oldPasquale Solara, for whom a lingering death upon the rack of the ancient Spanish Inquisition would not be a sufficient punishment!"
"You speak very confidently, Signor Count," said Vampa, resuming his cool self-possession. "Pray tell me how you are going to prove all this?"
"I should be foolish, indeed, did I do so," replied Monte-Cristo, seeing the 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 have asserted! 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 tales designing persons have poured into your ears destroy that friendship and that 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 know how old Solara summoned you with his signal whistle, how you bargained with him for his beautiful daughter and how you finally bought her of him! I know how you abducted the girl while her infamous father waited outside the cabin with a torch, how you bore her away in your arms through the forest, murdering her brother and in turn encountering my son Espérance and the Viscount Massetti. I know how you carried her to the hut you had prepared, how you kept her a close prisoner there guarded by members of your band until your shameful object wasaccomplished! I know how you wrote that letter signed Tonio which was intended to influence Annunziata's belief in the Viscount's guilt, and I know how old Solara secreted it where his daughter afterwards found and read it! Now, Luigi Vampa, are you satisfied? You said a moment ago that we have long understood each other. I hope there will be no misunderstanding on your part when I tell you that I mean to force both you and old Solara to confess your crimes and make reparation for them as 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, Edmond Dantès, Count of Monte-Cristo!"
He backed towards the door as if afraid the Count would attack him. When he reached it, he turned, flung it open and stepped into the corridor, instantly finding himself in the grasp of Peppino and Beppo, who at once handed him over to a squad of policemen, the officer in charge of whom said:
"I arrest you, Luigi Vampa! Follow me!"
Monte-Cristo was astounded when he saw Luigi Vampa arrested by the Roman policeman and his squad; his first thought was that Peppino, unwilling to let slip so fair an opportunity to obtain vengeance, had betrayed the brigand chief to the authorities; this idea was apparently confirmed by the part the two ex-bandits had taken in their former leader's capture; hence after the officers and their prisoner had departed, he turned fiercely upon Peppino and said, in a tone of anger:
"This is fine work for one of my servants to do, especially one so trusted as you!"
"Signor Count," answered Peppino, humbly, "you are mistaken. I had no hand in it whatever save obeying the order of the officer in command of the police."
"Indeed!" cried the Count, incredulously.
"Yes," continued Peppino, in the same humble voice, "and Beppo here is equally innocent. The officer tracked Vampa to the hôtel and was informed that I had conducted him into your presence. He thereupon sent for me, directing me without further ado to take Beppo, who chanced to be in my company, and seize the chief, who was personally unknownto him, the instant he quitted your salon. I trust your Excellency will pardon 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 will seriously interfere with my projected operations."
The police had conducted matters very quietly; still, the tramp of many feet in the corridor had awakened the Viscount and filled him with terror. Knowing the unparalleled audacity of the bandits, he at once jumped to the conclusion that a body of them had entered Rome and taken possession of the Hôtel de France with the object of seizing upon him as the murderer of old Pasquale Solara, who, he did not doubt, was dead. When the tramping feet, which the Count and Vampa were too much engrossed to hear, paused in front of his very door he became fixed in this conclusion and sprang from his bed in wild alarm. He looked hastily around him for some avenue of escape, but there was none. If the brigands were without he was trapped and would speedily be in their hands. He listened with the utmost anxiety, expecting every instant that his door would be forced and his relentless foes come thronging into the chamber. No such movement, however, was made. A deathlike silence prevailed. What was the meaning of all this? What was taking place or about to occur? If the men in the corridor were not Luigi Vampa's bandits, who were they? The Viscount lost himself in a bewildering maze of conjectures. Makea personal examination and satisfy himself he dare not. In the midst of his conjectures he heard a door open directly across the corridor and knew it was Monte-Cristo's. Then a voice of stern command broke the silence, but what was uttered he could not distinguish, though he fancied he made out the ominous word "arrest," which was almost immediately succeeded by a renewal of the tramping of feet. This sound speedily died away and silence again prevailed. Young Massetti was more perplexed than ever. He could make nothing out of the knotty problem presented to him for solution. Suddenly a thought struck him that brought beads of cold perspiration out upon his forehead. Monte-Cristo had been arrested and carried off to a Roman prison! Then he heard the Count's well-known voice angrily addressing some one and this alarming thought vanished as quickly as it had come to him. The party arrested, if an arrest had been made, was, therefore, not Monte-Cristo but some one else, some one who had come from the Count's salon. Who could it possibly be? Maximilian Morrel? No, the idea was absurd, for what had the young Frenchman done to provoke arrest? Finally, unable longer to endure the uncertainty and suspense, the Viscount cautiously opened his door and glanced out into the corridor. His eyes rested upon Monte-Cristo, Peppino and Beppo. The former saw him and 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 police tracked 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 a gloomy air.
"Giovanni Massetti," said he, in a slow, measured tone, "you have disregarded my injunctions and by your impetuosity put all my plans in jeopardy! You did wrong, very wrong, in attacking old Pasquale Solara this morning!"
"I am keenly sensible of it now, after calm reflection," answered the Viscount, penitently. "But still you must make some allowance for me. I came suddenly upon the shepherd and my indignation and desire for vengeance so mastered me at the sight of him that I could not control myself. Nevertheless I gave him a chance for his life. We fought a desperate duel and he was wounded, but whether mortally or not it is impossible for me to say, as Vampa's men made their appearance immediately after his fall, and I was forced into precipitate flight."
"Should Solara die," said Monte-Cristo, moodily, "you will have deprived us of a most important witness, for I calculated upon compelling him to speak, to disclose every detail of the infamous conspiracy against you. But like you I do not know his present condition, 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 I do seems to be wrong."
"Because you are governed by impulse alone and do not wait for your calmer judgment to come to your aid," replied Monte-Cristo. Then he added, firmly: "Giovanni Massetti, either you must submit wholly to me for the future, be guided entirely by my wishes, or I will be compelled to leave you to your fate! I need not say that I shall abandon you very reluctantly, but abandon you I must unless you cease to trammel my efforts in your behalf!"
The young Italian seized his benefactor's hand convulsively.
"Your Excellency," he exclaimed, supplicatingly, "do not abandon me, do not leave me to my fate at this critical juncture! I will yield you blind and implicit submission and obedience! For the future I will do nothing, take not even the slightest, most unimportant step without your direct authorization or express command!"
"It is well, Giovanni," said the Count, evidently much relieved to find his ardent protégé so tractable. "I will continue the work I have begun and alsoendeavor to bring it to a speedy and successful conclusion. The arrest of Vampa and the wounding of old Solara have complicated matters to a certain extent, but a brief time, I trust, will suffice to straighten out the complications and tangles, and then the result will be 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 a moment without my permission! Do you promise me that?"
"I not only promise it, I swear it!" exclaimed the Viscount, lifting his eyes and his right hand towards Heaven.
"It is well," repeated Monte-Cristo, joyously, and turning he left Massetti's chamber.
It had been planned that the Count should take Zuleika out riding the following morning, but a desire to know what had become of Luigi Vampa and what the authorities proposed to do in his case prevented Monte-Cristo from fulfilling his promise to his daughter. He, however, determined not to deprive Zuleika of the pleasure she anticipated from her drive and, therefore, when the barouche and its spirited horses were brought to the hôtel door installed Peppino in the driver's seat with the faithful Ali to act as an additional guard and protector.
Zuleika, after bidding her father a tender farewell, was assisted by him into the elegant vehicle and Ali drove off, managing the prancing and mettlesome steeds, with all the dash and skill of a veteran Paris coachman.
They passed along the Corso, which as usual was crowded with splendid equipages and gay promenaders, finally making their way to the vast and beautiful Piazza del Popolo, which presented even a more animated and enlivening scene than the Corso. The elegant equipages were there supplemented by superbly mounted cavaliers and the various paths were alive with handsome girls and their gallants, while interspersed amid the better classes were gorgeously attired peasants of both sexes, some simply idling about, others vending small wares and flowers.
Tiring at length of the ordinary sights of Rome, Zuleika directed Ali to drive a short distance into the country. He obeyed with considerable reluctance for he was well aware of the dangers to be encountered in the environs of the city, and Peppino, on his side, was also uneasy, though he did not venture to protest against what he considered a most censurable caprice of his youthful mistress.
However, they drove along for several miles without the slightest incident occurring to warrant the fears of Ali and Peppino or trouble the serenity of Zuleika. The young girl enjoyed the open country, with its stately trees, verdure and refreshing odors, immensely, and internally congratulated herself on having varied her programme by leaving dusty Rome behind her for a time.
Meanwhile Ali, with the habitual fatalism of his nation, had resigned himself in advance to whatever might happen and drove straight onward with his eyes impassibly fixed upon the horses. Not so withPeppino; the wily and well-posted Italian was constantly on the alert, scanning every thicket, clump of trees or turn of the road with a searching look long before they came to it; although nothing suspicious had as yet met his gaze, he was not by any means either satisfied or reassured.
Finally they approached a small roadside inn and Zuleika, complaining of thirst, directed the barouche to be stopped and Peppino to dismount from his seat, enter the inn and procure some wine for her. Peppino made a grimace at this command, but had not the courage to explain to Monte-Cristo's daughter that in obeying her he ran the risk of encountering some of his old comrades who might prove too inquisitive. He slowly clambered down from the barouche and with an exceedingly rueful countenance made his way into the inn. He had not been gone an instant when he suddenly reappeared, running towards the barouche and uttering loud cries of alarm. Half a dozen rough-looking men pursued him and before he could reach the vehicle he was caught. Simultaneously another party of ruffians issued from the inn, catching the horses by the bridle as Ali was about to drive off.
"Not so fast, my sable friend!" said one of the men. "We must make the acquaintance of your beautiful young mistress!"
Zuleika sat speechless, frozen with terror. Ali raised his whip to strike the ruffian who had spoken so flippantly of Monte-Cristo's daughter, but the indignant mute was instantly overpowered and dragged to the ground.
Meanwhile the men who held Peppino in their clutches were examining him closely.
"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 he could lay his hands on!"
"It is Peppino," put in another. "I know him in spite of his stained face 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 first speaker. "No doubt, too, that young woman there is a member of the Count's family. We followed Peppino for a little fun, comrades, but have fallen upon a slice of rare luck! Monte-Cristo is responsible for Vampa's arrest yesterday, for the chief was taken as he left his room Now we can make reprisals!"
"Excellent!" cried another of the band. "We can make reprisals and obtain at least one valuable hostage for Vampa's safety! Signora," he said to the terrified Zuleika, "who are you?"
The poor girl, commanding her voice as best she could, replied, with some dignity:
"I am Zuleika, daughter of the Count of Monte-Cristo! In his name I demand 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 of the 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 and let another comrade drive the equipage to the rendezvous of the band. As for the colored driver, let him go back to Rome on foot and carry the news 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, immediately taking a second thought, he added: "No. Keep him! Perhaps Monte-Cristo places some value on the scoundrel and it might not be bad policy to retain him as an additional hostage!"
Peppino who had been listening intently to the leader's words heaved a deep sigh of relief. He would certainly experience rough treatment, but at least his life was safe. He, therefore, submitted to be bound without a murmur and even smiled as he was being led away.
The leader's commands regarding Zuleika and the equipage were promptly obeyed, and soon Monte-Cristo's daughter was a close prisoner in a rocky cell of the bandits' subterranean fastness.
Ali, as soon as set free, started for Rome to give the alarm.
When Ali reached the Hôtel de France and dragged himself to his master's apartment, which was not until quite late in the afternoon, his condition was truly deplorable. Footsore and ready to drop from extreme fatigue, he staggered like a drunken man. He was thickly covered with dust and profuse perspiration made his dark skin glisten. The faithful mute at once threw himself at the Count's feet, embracing his knees and in his marvellous pantomime eloquently entreating pardon.
Monte-Cristo, who was suffering torment because of his beloved daughter's prolonged absence, instantly divined that some terrible accident had befallen her and grew almost wild with grief and apprehension. Raising Ali up, he said to him in a broken, anxious voice:
"Tell me what has occurred without circumlocution or delay, and tell me all!"
The Nubian made a profound salaam in token of submission and obedience. Then he proceeded, in his own peculiar mode of narrating events with which Monte-Cristo was so thoroughly familiar and which in this instance he translated only too readily and unerringly, to recount the particulars of the fataldrive into the outskirts of the city and of the capture of Zuleika, Peppino and the equipage by the brigands.
Monte-Cristo sat for an instant after he had concluded like one stupefied, so utterly overwhelmed was he by the unexpected and distracting intelligence. Then he sprang to his feet and began pacing the room, muttering as he walked:
"So the wretches have seized my daughter and servant by way of reprisals and intend to hold them as hostages for the safety of Luigi Vampa! What is to be done? Let me think, let me think!"
He placed his hand to his forehead and accelerated his step, passing back and forth with such feverish rapidity that even Ali, impassible as he was by nature, showed alarm, dreading the effect of all this fearful and exhausting excitement upon his adored master to save whom from the slightest trouble or grief he would have freely and unhesitatingly given his 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 caused to be included the abduction of Annunziata Solara and his attempt to blacken the fair fame of the Viscount Massetti. His conviction and punishment as a bandit may be accepted as certain, whatever may be the fate of the other counts in the black indictment against him, for hosts of those whom he has robbed and maltreated are to testify, and the Roman authorities have for some reason suddenly become his deadly, implacable foes; they will show him no mercy! But therest of the infamous band, what is to be done with them? Nothing, absolutely nothing, so far as I have been able to learn! Why? Possibly because the police fear to attack the brigands in their stronghold! But I will change this item of the programme—yes, I will change it! I will at once to Cardinal Monti, complain that my daughter has been seized by the bandits and offer with the aid of Captain Morrel to lead a detachment of soldiery against them. Animated by Maximilian and myself, the military will show courage for once. 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 rash and might imperil the success of the undertaking—no, I will not take him, I will not even inform him of what I propose doing. The Cardinal will scarcely venture to refuse me. Should he hesitate, however, I will shame him into consenting, I will threaten him with invoking the aid of the French minister! No, he will not refuse me! Now for the trial of my power! 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, the Count of Monte-Cristo departed on his mission, a mission certainly altogether characteristic of the marvellous man.
Cardinal Monti received him cordially, heard his complaint and, after demurring slightly, accepted his offer to lead the soldiers against the redoubtable brigands, agreeing to place two hundred of the SwissGuard properly officered and equipped at the disposal of himself and Captain Morrel. It was decided that the expedition should start from the Castle of St. Angelo at ten o'clock that night and should be guided by a trusty peasant, then in the Cardinal's service, who professed to know the exact location of the bandits' retreat and the safest route to it.
These preliminaries satisfactorily settled, Monte-Cristo, his heart overflowing with joy, immediately returned to the Hôtel de France to notify M. Morrel and to make his preparations for the coming campaign. Upon being informed of Zuleika's seizure by the outlaws and of the part her father wished him to take in her deliverance, Maximilian instantly consented, only too happy to have such a signal opportunity of serving his 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 until after the result of the expedition is known. I wish to keep the whole matter a close secret lest young Massetti should hear of it and mar our plans by his usual hot-headedness. With this view I have already instructed Ali, the only person save yourself in the Hôtel de France who is aware of the terrible blow that has fallen upon me, to refrain from communicating the intelligence to any one. It is better thus, for the brigands undoubtedly have spies in Rome at this time and the utmost caution is advisable."
M. Morrel readily assented to the wisdom of the Count's policy of complete silence, and the twain separated to quietly prepare for the night's perilous and exciting adventure.
At half-past nine o'clock Monte-Cristo and Maximilian entered the court-yard of the grim Castle of St. Angelo, where the detachment of the Swiss Guard was already drawn up under arms awaiting orders. The Count wore a half military dress and had a sword at his side, while his friend was clad in the full uniform of a Captain in the Army of France and similarly provided with the regulation weapon. Both he and Monte-Cristo had a couple of pistols in their belts, freshly and carefully loaded.
The Captain of the Swiss Guard received them and presented the peasant whom Cardinal Monti had sent to act as guide. Then he turned over the command of his men to Captain Morrel, who briefly addressed them in French, a language with which they were well acquainted, informing them that he and his Excellency, the Count of Monte-Cristo, relied on every man to do his duty in suppressing the banditti and rescuing from their rude clutches a beautiful young French girl, no other than the Count's own daughter.
At the close of this address the soldiers saluted, the only way in which the military regulations permitted them to respond.
Monte-Cristo and M. Morrel then had a brief conference with the peasant guide, who seemed veryintelligent and thoroughly posted as to the bandits and their stronghold. The information he gave was in every respect satisfactory and it was abundantly plain that the man could be implicitly relied upon.
Everything was now in readiness and, as the hour of ten was sounded by the clock of the Castle of St. Angelo, the troops headed by Captain Morrel 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 trifle in advance of the detachment and led the way. Complete silence was maintained and the utmost care taken to muffle the tramp of the soldiers' feet.
After marching until nearly midnight, the guide in a low, cautious whisper informed the Count and Maximilian that the bandits' fastness was close at hand. A brief halt for rest and recuperation was immediately ordered; then the advance was resumed, followed by a struggle with the brigands' sentinel, who was seized and overpowered before he could give even the slightest alarm.
"Now, men," said Captain Morrel, in a firm, commanding tone, "for a prompt 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 troops speedily possessed himself of one and Maximilian with the rest of the detachment promptly seized the other.
So far the success of the expedition had been complete. The outlaws were caged and could not escape, but, nevertheless, it was probable that they wouldmake a desperate and bloody resistance. Simultaneously Monte-Cristo and Captain Morrel penetrated the gloomy depths with their men and a dozen torches quickly lighted illuminated the cavern as if by magic. Instantly there arose a chorus of wild shouts uttered by the surprised bandits, who, armed to the teeth, came thronging from every direction. A fierce hand to hand battle ensued, the cavern echoing with the rattle of musketry, the reports of pistols and the clash of swords.
As had been anticipated the brigands contended desperately and with the utmost fury. They were brave, hardy wretches, and though hemmed in on all sides evidently hoped to triumph over the invaders of their stronghold and drive them out in disorder and terror. Their former experience with the Swiss Guard and the police warranted them in entertaining this hope, but on the present occasion they reckoned without 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 been killed and wounded on both sides that the outlaws began to show signs of wavering. Monte-Cristo and Captain Morrel performed prodigies of valor, animating and encouraging their troops both by word and example. Finally the outlaws were completely subdued, such of them as had not been slain having been made prisoners. The Count escaped without a scratch, but Maximilian was slightly wounded in the left hand.
When the firing and the clash, of swords hadceased, Captain Morrel gave the order to search the cave for Zuleika and Peppino, first placing sentinels at the entrances to guard against surprise and prevent the escape of any of the bandits who amid the confusion might slip from their captors.
"Where are the cells?" asked Monte-Cristo of the peasant guide, who had manfully 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 filled with anxiety for his daughter. What had happened to her since she had been a captive in the bandits' den? Had her honor been respected as well as her life? His suspense was the most terrible torture possible to conceive. He could scarcely restrain himself until he should learn the truth, be it fatal or favorable. Maximilian was almost equally agitated, but managed to maintain a comparatively calm exterior that he might the better 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. The party 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 fastened only by a bar of iron, to remove which required but an instant, when it was discovered that the cries came from Peppino, who having heard the noise of the conflict and concludedthat relief was near had at once commenced to shout that he might disclose his whereabouts to the invaders. 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 moaning piteously. At the sound of her father's voice, however, she was on her feet in an instant and cast herself rapturously into his arms.
"Are you safe, my darling child?" said the Count, covering her face with kisses. "Did the bandits respect you?"
"I am safe, dear father," answered Zuleika, "safe and uninjured. The bandits frightened me and the solitude and terrors of this dark, dismal dungeon have been fearful to endure. But all my troubles are over now that you are here!"
The Count then directed the guide to conduct them to the bandits' stables and there his horses andbarouche were found. The equipage was taken to the open air, and after placing his daughter in the vehicle the Count left her in charge of Peppino and several soldiers of the Swiss Guard, returning to the cavern to bring the work of the expedition to a close.
When Monte-Cristo reached the point where the Swiss Guard and their prisoners were assembled, he found Captain Morrel superintending the placing of an aged bandit upon an improvised stretcher.
"During your absence, Count," said he, his face radiant with joy, "we made the most important capture of the night! This old man is Pasquale Solara!"
"Where did you find him?" asked the Count.
"In a large cell used by the outlaws as an infirmary. He says he is mortally wounded and slowly dying, that his wound was inflicted by a Roman nobleman who met him upon the highway—a very likely story, truly!"
"It is a fact," answered Monte-Cristo. "The Roman nobleman who wounded him was Giovanni Massetti! But, thank God, he is still alive and will probably last until Vampa's trial at which I may be able to force him to speak out. Have him carefully attended to, Maximilian!"
The captives were formed in line and, none being too much disabled to walk, save old Solara who was borne along on his stretcher, they were marched to Rome surrounded by the triumphant Swiss Guard. Monte-Cristo, Maximilian and Zuleika followed in the Count's barouche, Peppino officiating as coachman.
The successful result of the raid upon the bandits made Monte-Cristo and Captain Morrel the heroes of the hour in Rome. Everywhere they went crowds assembled to gaze upon them and they were greeted with hearty cheers and loud acclamations of joy. Truth to tell the Roman people both high and low had very much to thank them for. The outlaws' band was completely broken up and every member of it was safely bestowed in the dungeons of the Castle of St. Angelo, where, as already stated, the redoubtable leader the notorious brigand chief, Luigi Vampa himself, also languished, awaiting whatever disposition the authorities might choose to make of him with anything but stoicism, for he did not doubt that it would go hard with him. Vampa's arrest was considered as directly due to Monte-Cristo, for had he not come to visit the Count it was improbable that he would ever have been captured. By the advice of Monte-Cristo also the bandits' subterranean retreat had been filled with powder and blown to atoms. No wonder, therefore, the Romans were grateful to the illustrious Frenchman and his able assistant Captain Morrel.
Old Pasquale Solara had been placed in a hospital where he was closely watched and had the attendanceof a competent physician, for the Count had assured Cardinal Monti that he could perhaps be made an important witness against Vampa at his forthcoming trial. After examining the shepherd's wound the physician had given his opinion that it was fatal, but that by resorting to proper and judicious measures the old man's life could be prolonged sufficiently to enable him to testify.
Valentine was much affected when she heard from Zuleika's lips the story of her seizure by the brigands and her imprisonment in the dark, damp cell of their cavern fastness, but her emotion was tempered with joy that her beloved friend had escaped with no other injury than the shock resulting from her fright and natural apprehensions.
When Giovanni learned of his betrothed's dangerous adventure and the perils that had encompassed her his indignation knew no bounds, and in addition he felt considerably hurt that Monte-Cristo had not allowed him to participate in her rescue. The Count and his daughter, however, succeeded in calming him and in convincing him that all had been done for the best. He was further propitiated by Monte-Cristo's assurance that 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 a week and that the first charge investigated should be that relating to the abduction of Annunziata Solara and the conspiracy against the Viscount Massetti. This decision was brought aboutby the influence of the Count of Monte-Cristo, who represented to the Papal Secretary of State the importance of utilizing the testimony of old Pasquale Solara while he was yet in a condition to give it.
The Count resolved to make a final effort to convince Annunziata Solara of Giovanni's innocence, though he had determined to employ her evidence in any event, trusting to the lawyers and the Court to extract such admissions from her as would tend to show that she was mistaken in regard to the identity of her abductor. He knew the former flower-girl was conscientious and firmly believed in her theory, but still he was not without hope that she might be led to see matters as they really were. Besides, if her father should see fit to confess she could not fail to be convinced of Vampa's guilt and in that case the expression of her conviction would be of the utmost value.
In pursuit of his plan Monte-Cristo at once communicated with Mme. de Rancogne at the Refuge in Civita Vecchia, begging her to bring Annunziata to Rome without an instant's delay. She promptly responded by appearing at the Hôtel de France with her protégée and the Count arranged an interview between the latter and young Massetti in his salon. When Annunziata accompanied by the Superior of the Order of Sisters of Refuge entered the apartment and found Giovanni waiting for her 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, "have no fear. All we wish in this peculiarly unfortunate matter is to get at the truth. Hear what the Viscount has to say in his own behalf—that is only justice!"
The flush on the girl's handsome countenance was succeeded by an ashen paleness, 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, he cannot, deny his shameful and dishonorable conduct towards me!"
Giovanni, hardly less affected than the girl who supposed herself his victim, advanced to her and took her hand. She did not refuse to let him hold it in his, but studiously refrained from looking him in the face.
"Annunziata," said Massetti, humbly, "I do not deny that my conduct towards you in the past was altogether reprehensible and unpardonable. I do not deny that circumstances so shaped themselves that I was made to seem a wretched, despicable criminal in your eyes; but, Annunziata, I stopped short of actual guilt, and as Heaven is my witness I had no hand either in your abduction or the horrible events that accompanied and followed 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 a stain on your name youcannot marry the Count of Monte-Cristo's beautiful daughter!"
It was a keen, cutting thrust and made Giovanni wince, but he recovered himself 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 all criminal action—innocent of your abduction, of your dishonor and of your brother's blood! Annunziata, do you still decline to believe my solemn 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 that dreadful night in the forest! I heard the tones of your voice afterwards in the hut guarded by the bandits! What more convincing evidence could I require?"
"You were mistaken, Annunziata, you were fearfully mistaken!" cried the young Italian, overwhelming despair seizing upon him and crushing the hope in his heart. He could not convince the former flower-girl, he could not even shake her convictions! He had failed with her as Monte-Cristo had previously failed at the Refuge in Civita Vecchia! Up to this time he had continued to hold Annunziata's hand, but now he dropped it as if it had been some venomous serpent.
Annunziata was deeply affected, but her emotion arose from an altogether different cause. She felt her shame and disgrace and was, besides, horrified at the idea that she had once hung upon the honeyed words of such a scoundrel as in her view the Viscount Massetti had proved to be.
Monte-Cristo was now thoroughly satisfied that Giovanni could effect nothing with Annunziata and that a further prolongation of the interview would only be fraught with additional suffering for both the girl and young Massetti; he, therefore, requested Mme. de Rancogne to take her protégée to her apartment, and when they had quitted the salon said to the Viscount:
"We must trust this girl to the lawyers and judges, Giovanni. They perhaps may be sufficiently shrewd to shake her testimony even should old Solara elect to maintain silence on the subject that vitally concerns us."
At the appointed time the trial of Luigi Vampa began in the Judgment Hall of the Vatican, which was crowded to its utmost capacity, both men and women being present and striving to push forward so as to obtain a glimpse of the notorious brigand chief and of the first witness Annunziata Solara.
Cardinal Monti in person presided, assisted by two subordinate Cardinals. In the portion of the hall railed off for the use of the bar sat Monte-Cristo and the Viscount Massetti with their lawyers, the best and most acute advocates in Rome, while just without the rail were M. Morrel and Espérance, the latter having come from Paris expressly to attend the trial, though at his request his testimony was not to be demanded of him. Just within the rail and close beside Maximilian and the son of Monte-Cristo Valentine and Zuleika were seated, both closely veiled. Near them sat Mme. de Rancogne and theunfortunate Annunziata Solara, clad in the dark gray habits of the Order of the Sisters of Refuge, their white faces plainly visible beneath the nuns' bonnets of spotless linen they wore. Peppino sat beside the Count.
There was a low murmur of conversation in the Judgment Hall, as the audience discussed the probable issue of the trial and expressed diverse opinions, though all were agreed that whatever might be the decision of the Court in regard to the abduction and conspiracy Luigi Vampa would not escape punishment for the crimes he had committed in his capacity of chief of the bandits.
Presently Cardinal Monti arose, magnificent in his princely apparel and glittering jewels, waving his hand for silence. His gesture was instantly obeyed and the entire hall grew still as death. Then the Cardinal resumed his seat on the judicial bench, and, turning to the clerk of the Court, commanded him to proclaim the session opened. This was done, whereupon the Cardinal said, in a voice distinctly audible in all parts of the vast apartment:
"Bring in the accused!"
A moment later Luigi Vampa entered a raised enclosure serving the purpose of a dock in the custody of two stalwart and thoroughly armed military policemen. His face was ashen, but he glanced about him nonchalantly and defiantly. When his eyes rested upon Monte-Cristo and the Viscount Massetti he smiled in a peculiar sort of way as if he felt convinced that all their labors would be in vain.Suddenly he saw the two gray-robed women in their linen nuns' bonnets, starting slightly as he recognized Annunziata Solara, but otherwise evincing no emotion.
The men and women in the distant portions of the hall got upon the benches, craning their necks to see the accused, and there arose a murmur, a faint hiss, that was promptly checked by the vigilant Court officials who were marching here and there with their long white staffs in 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 of many grave crimes, but the charge which the Court will first consider is blacker than all the rest; that charge, Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, is that you abducted and afterwards seduced a peasant girl named Annunziata Solara and, in collusion with her father, Pasquale Solara, conspired to throw the onus and suspicion of your crime upon an innocent man, the Viscount Giovanni Massetti. What say you, Luigi Vampa, prisoner at 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 promptly suppressed as before.
"Accused, you can take your seat," said the Cardinal.
Vampa did as directed, the policemen remaining standing at his sides with drawn swords in their hands.
"Let the first witness be called," said the Cardinal, addressing the clerk 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 upon the elevated witness stand, where the accustomed oath was administered to her by the clerk.
Again there was a general craning of necks, the women showing the strongest anxiety to behold the girl who was said to have been Vampa's victim.
In a low, faltering voice Annunziata proceeded to give her testimony. She repeated her sad story precisely as she had done before, entirely exonerating the bandit chief and throwing the whole weight of the crime upon the shoulders of the Viscount Massetti.
This was the reverse of what the audience had expected and the murmur of surprise was universal.
The prisoner glanced at Monte-Cristo and Massetti with a radiant look of triumph.
The Viscount's lawyers then took the witness in hand, but shrewd and able as they were they utterly failed to make her swerve even a hair's breadth from her evidence. She returned to her place beside Mme. de Rancogne, confident that she had done her duty and uttered not a single syllable that was untrue.
Peppino followed her. He repeated almost word for word the details he had given the Count of Monte-Cristo in Paris. His recital was so vivid, so circumstantial, that it made a wonderful impression both upon the Court and the audience. When he spoke ofold Pasquale Solara's infamous sale of his beautiful daughter to Luigi Vampa the male auditors could scarcely restrain their indignation and the women fairly screamed with horror, the utmost efforts of the Court officers being required to force them into anything like quietude. Another sensation was caused by Peppino's exposure of the nefarious conspiracy by which the innocent young Viscount was brought and kept under the suspicion of murder and abduction. When he concluded his narrative and quitted the witness stand he and Vampa exchanged glances of bitter and vindictive hate, and it required all the strength of the policemen in charge of the prisoner to keep him from leaping from the dock and attempting to take summary vengeance upon the fearless and outspoken witness.
The Viscount Massetti now took the stand. He gave the full history of his acquaintance with Annunziata Solara from the meeting in the Piazza del Popolo to the encounter with Vampa in the forest and the administration of the oath of silence, speaking with such evident sincerity and feeling that his testimony acquired additional weight thereby. The brigand chief watched him closely, listening to his testimony with a contemptuous smile. When the young Italian returned to Monte-Cristo and resumed his seat his pale visage was a mass of perspiration and great agitation had possession of him.
"Call Pasquale Solara," said the Cardinal to the clerk, after referring to 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 Guard advanced towards the judicial bench, bearing a stretcher upon which was extended the emaciated form of the aged shepherd.
As her father was borne past her, Annunziata uttered a cry and arose to go 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 she could only see him after the trial was concluded, when the requisite permission would be obtained for her.
Old Pasquale was lifted from the stretcher by a couple of soldiers and aided to mount the witness stand. He was so faint and weak that it was necessary to hold him in an upright position after he had with great difficulty mounted the stand. Even then he trembled like a paralytic and it was some moments before he could answer the questions addressed to him. Vampa regarded him with intense anxiety, eagerly leaning forward to catch the feeble, almost imperceptible sounds that issued from his lips.
"May it please your Eminence," said old Pasquale, painfully pausing after every word, "I am a dying man. The hospital physician who has accompanied me and is now in the Judgment Hall assures me that I can last but a few days at most. I have been a great sinner, but I do not desire to go before my angered God with all the weight of my iniquity upon me; therefore, I have resolved to speak, to tell all I know!"
The spectators in the body of the hall shuddered. Old Solara's voice did not reach them, but they felt instinctively that some dreadful revelation was either being or about to be made. Monte-Cristo and Massetti half arose in their seats; they were near enough to grasp the purport of what the shepherd had said and its effect upon them was absolutely overwhelming; they had expected that Pasquale would either tell a cunningly fabricated tale calculated to shield Vampa or take refuge in stony, stubborn silence, but instead he was going to make a clean breast of the whole terrible crime! Annunziata had also heard and was listening for what should follow with a countenance almost as white as her nun's bonnet. Mme. de Rancogne caught her hands and held them firmly; she too was startled beyond expression by old Solara's words and feared the effect of further revelations upon her protégée. Zuleika, Valentine, M. Morrel and Espérance were too far away from the witness stand to comprehend a syllable, but like the spectators in the body of the hall they divined what was on the point of coming, holding their breath in fear and expectation. As for Vampa, he could hardly be kept still; his fingers worked nervously as if he desired to strangle the dying witness, and he glanced at him with the flashing eyes of a ferocious tiger brought to bay.
Old Pasquale continued, amid the deepest silence:
"I do not seek to shield myself. Vampa is guilty both of the abduction and of the plot to ruin the Viscount Massetti, but I was his tempter and to me he owes his crime! However, with the murder of myson Lorenzo I had nothing to do—the chief alone is responsible for that! But I tempted him with the beauty of my poor daughter Annunziata! Greedy for gold I sold her to him! The abduction was proposed by me and executed by him! The plan to throw young Massetti under suspicion also originated with me, Vampa and myself carrying it out together. In forming the plan I was actuated by a desire to obtain vengeance upon old Count Massetti for a wrong he did me in the past! Now, your Eminence, you know the whole black history!"
Pasquale Solara ceased and sank back into the arms of the two soldiers who were supporting him, totally overcome by the terrible exertions he had made in delivering his crushing testimony, and lay there a helpless, quivering mass. As they were about to remove him from the witness stand a sudden thought occurred to him, and with a herculean effort he straightened himself up, making a sign to the Court that he had something further to communicate.
"Speak, witness," said Cardinal Monti, in response to this sign.
"Your Eminence," resumed the shepherd, slowly and painfully, "I wish to say yet another word. I received my death wound at the hands of the Viscount Massetti!"
There was a quick stir among those who heard this unexpected accusation and a score of eyes, including those of Cardinal Monti and his associates on the judicial bench, were instantly fixed upon the young Italian, who glanced at Monte-Cristo and the lawyerswith a look of consternation. 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 should die by the hand of the man I sought to ruin! The wound, however, was dealt me in a perfectly fair duel and with my latest breath I shall exonerate 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 he would be prosecuted by the Roman authorities for fighting a duel with the shepherd under the circumstances, and the wounded man had voluntarily removed every suspicion of foul play from him. Monte-Cristo and the lawyers cast congratulatory glances at the young Italian. His rehabilitation now only needed Vampa's conviction and sentence to be perfect, and it could not for an instant be doubted that they would speedily follow.
The effect of her father's testimony or rather confession upon Annunziata had been startling. It completely shattered all her convictions, placing her misfortunes in a new and horrible light. The Viscount was innocent as he had steadily asserted, and her parent stood revealed 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 and reparation was impossible; besides, there was nothing noble or elevating about his remorse—it wasthoroughly characteristic of the man—altogether selfish, induced solely by the fear of consequences in the world to come. Annunziata felt as if all faith in humanity had been withdrawn from her, and as she gradually realized the full meaning of her father's words she closed her eyes and with a gasp sank fainting into the arms of Mme. de Rancogne, who, hardly less shocked and surprised than the poor girl herself, used every effort to revive her, finally succeeding.
In the little group consisting of Zuleika, Valentine, M. Morrel and Espérance uncertainty prevailed for some moments. They had been unable to catch what old Solara had said, to glean more than a general idea that his testimony had been against Vampa. As soon, however, as his emotion permitted him to do so Giovanni went to them and communicated the glad tidings. Zuleika was almost overcome by the immensity of her joy and with difficultly restrained herself from embracing her lover directly in the face of the august Court and the assembled spectators. Valentine was ready to weep with delight and her husband felt as much triumph as if he had won a decisive victory over the combined enemies of France. As for Espérance, he was both enraptured and ashamed—enraptured that the dark stain was removed from Giovanni's name and ashamed that he had been so blind and unjust as to wrongfully suspect him.
When the gist of Pasquale Solara's evidence was whispered around among the audience the Court officers were powerless to suppress the expressions ofhorror and enthusiasm. Had the shepherd not been closely guarded by the soldiers he certainly would have been torn to pieces and trodden under foot, so great was the tide of popular indignation against him. 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. What have you to say in your defense?"
Vampa forced to his feet by the policemen replied, doggedly and sullenly:
"Nothing!"
Cardinal Monti then turned to his associates on the judicial bench and a brief conference ensued, after which he arose and facing Vampa said, solemnly:
"Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, the judgment of the Papal Court is that you are guilty, first of the murder of Lorenzo Solara, though as he attacked you the crime has been placed in the second degree, second of the abduction of Annunziata Solara, and third of conspiracy to indelibly blacken the character of a worthy Roman nobleman, the Viscount Giovanni Massetti. Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, the sentence of the Papal Court is that you be taken hence back to your dungeon in the Castle of St. Angelo, there to undergo solitary imprisonment for life. As this sentence renders it unnecessary to proceed to an examination of the other and less important charge against you, that of robbery on the public highways and of maltreating your captives, your trial is now at an end. Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, may God havemercy upon you and bring you to repentance and ultimate salvation!"