THE POWER OF A NAME.
The young Viscount, for it was, indeed, he whom the gigantic masked
brigand had halted, was staggered for an instant by this unlooked for
interruption of his journey in pursuit of the beautiful flower-girl. He
gazed at the huge ruffian in front of him first in bewilderment and then
in anger. The robber calmly continued to cover him with his pistol; as
Giovanni made a movement with his hand towards a stiletto he wore at the
belt of his peasant's dress, the man's quick eye detected his intention
and 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 bandit
had the advantage of him and, courageous as he was, he instantly
recognized the folly of disregarding his warning. His rage and
indignation, however, were too great for him to control. He cried to his
stalwart 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 have
seen you too often in Rome to be deceived by the flimsy disguise you
wear so unnaturally! I know you! You are the Viscount Giovanni
Massetti!"
"Well, what if I am?" retorted the young man, sharply. "The fact will
not 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 willing
to 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 threat
for threat.
"Take my life, if you will," he said. "It would be the worst piece of
work you have ever done!"
"May I ask why, signor?"
"It would raise my family against you and the result could not fail to
be your extermination!"
The man laughed loudly, and caustically replied:
"You are joking! What can your family do against Luigi Vampa and his
comrades, who have long been countenanced by the highest authority!"
This was the climax of insult, and Giovanni, driven to the highest pitch
of fury, unable longer to control himself, tore his stiletto from its
sheath and, raising it aloft, made a frantic dash at the gigantic
brigand. Instantly the latter fired. Giovanni dropped his weapon; his
right arm fell useless at his side.
Esperance meanwhile had not been idle. His excitement was intense, and
with it was mingled terrible fear for the safety of his friend.
Nevertheless, he eventually succeeded in sufficiently calming and
collecting himself to form a plan of action and put it in execution. He
had provided himself with a pistol, which he had freshly charged prior
to his departure from the Palazzo Costi. He drew this weapon from its
place of concealment at the first intimation of danger, noiselessly
cocking it. The road was skirted with tall thick bushes from which
projected a fringe of heavy shadows. Along this dark fringe Esperance
stole with cautious tread towards the huge bandit, as soon as he
perceived him standing in the centre of the highway and noted his
threatening attitude. As he stealthily advanced, the moon suddenly rose,
flooding the scene with its silvery light. Its rays, however, did not
disturb the line of skirting shadows, and Esperance passed on unseen.
When the brigand fired he was very near him. Seeing Giovanni's arm fall
and realizing that he was wounded, the son of Monte-Cristo promptly
raised his weapon and, covering the gigantic ruffian, discharged it
directly at his heart. Blood gushed from the man's breast. He sank to
the ground, where he lay quivering convulsively; in another instant he
expired without even uttering a groan.
Giovanni, whose arm was badly shattered and who was suffering frightful
pain, stood speechless with amazement at this sudden, unexpected
intervention in his favor. Esperance instantly sprang to his side. The
young Italian stared at him as if he had been an apparition from the
other world. He failed to recognize him in his peasant's dress, with his
stained visage.
"Who are you?" he gasped, as soon as he was able to find words.
"Do you not know me?" asked Esperance, astonished. In his excitement he
had forgotten his disguise.
"You are a stranger to me," replied the Viscount, "but my gratitude is
none the less on that account. You have rescued me from captivity,
perhaps saved my life!"
"I am no stranger, Giovanni. I am your friend, Esperance."
"What! Esperance in that dress, with that sunburnt countenance! I
thought your voice had a strangely familiar sound, but your disguise
proved too complete for me to penetrate it!"
These words recalled to the mind of the son of Monte-Cristo the changes
he had made in his appearance. No wonder that Viscount had failed to
recognize him!
"Why did you disguise yourself, and how came you here at this critical
juncture?" 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 during
your rash adventure so far as might lie in my power."
"From the bottom of my heart I thank you, Esperance. You are a brave as
well as a devoted friend, fully worthy of your illustrious father! But
how did you know me? I too, am disguised."
"The fact of my own disguise enabled me to penetrate yours. I
recognized 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 the
vicinity, and I imagine we both have had sufficient of the banditti for
one night! Prudence dictates that we should return at once to Rome. With
your shattered arm, you surely do not count upon continuing your search
for the fair Annunziata at present?"
"No; that is impossible, I regret to say. I will return with you to
Rome."
As the Viscount spoke a sudden tremor seized upon him, and he leaned on
his friend's shoulder for support.
"You are faint from loss of blood!" exclaimed Esperance, much alarmed.
"How thoughtless in me not to bind up your wound!"
Taking his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the blood from his
friend's arm, carefully, tenderly bandaging the hurt; then he made a
sling of Giovanni's handkerchief, placing the wounded member in it. The
Viscount felt easier thus, though still somewhat faint.
"You are quite a physician, Esperance," said he.
"Not at all," replied the son of Monte-Cristo; "but my father taught me
how to manage hurts; he said the knowledge would at some time be useful
to me, and his words have proved true."
"Your father is a wonderful man; he seems to think of everything, to
provide for all contingencies. Thanks to the skill he imparted to you, I
am now in a condition to start on the homeward journey."
The young men turned their faces towards Rome, but scarcely had they
taken a dozen steps when the road in front of them literally swarmed
with rough-looking armed men, who effectually barred their progress. In
an instant they were surrounded. Resistance was impossible; the two
friends glanced at each other and about them in dismay. The new comers
were evidently bandits, members of Luigi Vampa's desperate band.
One of the miscreants, who appeared to be the leader and was very
picturesquely attired, confronted Giovanni and Esperance. He had a
pistol 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 Esperance,
haughtily.
"Who I am," replied the brigand, in a stern voice, "does not concern
you. The right by which I detain you is the right of the strongest!"
"We cannot oppose your will, however unreasonable and unjust," returned
Esperance; "my friend is wounded and my pistol is discharged. We can
only throw ourselves upon your mercy; but we are gentlemen in spite of
our dress, and demand to be treated as such!"
"How came your friend to be wounded and your pistol discharged?" asked
the bandit, suspiciously.
"My friend was attacked and I went to his assistance," answered
Esperance.
"You were in a fight, then," resumed the leader. Turning suddenly to his
men, 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's
lieutenant.
"Just like him," said the leader. "Always rash, always seeking
adventures alone. I heard a pistol-shot some time back," he continued,
looking menacingly at Esperance. "Perhaps Ludovico has been
assassinated! If so, it shall go hard with his murderers! Let him be
searched for."
The short, thick-set lieutenant, accompanied by several of the band,
immediately departed to obey the order.
Esperance glanced anxiously at Giovanni. A new danger threatened them.
The gigantic brigand who had been slain was, without doubt, this
Ludovico. His body would be found and summary vengeance taken upon them.
Giovanni also realized the additional peril; but neither of the young
men gave the slightest evidence of fear; inwardly they resolved to face
death stoically, to meet it without the quiver of a muscle.
In a brief space the lieutenant and his companions returned; two of the
men bore the corpse of the huge robber; they placed it on the grass by
the roadside where the full moonlight streamed upon it, showing the
wound in the breast and the garments saturated with blood. A frown
contracted the leader's visage; he glanced at Esperance and the Viscount
with 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 rough
voice. "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 a
favorite.
As soon as the leader had received his subordinate's report, he turned
to the prisoners, asking, sternly:
"Which of you murdered this man?"
"No murder was committed," returned Esperance, indignantly. "The huge
ruffian shot my friend, shattering his arm, as you see; he was killed as
a measure of defence."
"Your pistol is discharged," continued the leader, harshly; "that you
have admitted; you killed Ludovico!"
"I defended my friend, whom he had basely attacked," said Esperance,
sullenly.
"You killed this man? Yes or no!"
"I killed him!"
"Enough!" cried the leader, grinding his teeth. "You shall pay the
penalty of your crime! Both of you shall die!"
He motioned to his lieutenant and in an instant Esperance and Giovanni
were securely bound. The young men read desperate resolution and fierce
vengeance upon all the rough countenances around them. There was not the
faintest glimmer of hope; death would be dealt out to them at once and
in the most summary fashion. Indeed, nooses were already dangling from a
couple of trees by the roadside, waiting to do their fell work. The
sight 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 deal
with! We have told you we are gentlemen and not peasants. I am the
Viscount Giovanni Massetti and my companion is the son of the famous
Count of Monte-Cristo!"
As the young Italian uttered these words, a new comer suddenly appeared
upon the scene for whom all the rest made way. He was an intellectual
looking 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 take
bitter vengeance upon you all for the murder of his son!"
"His son?"
"Yes, his son, who stands here at my side, ignobly bound and menaced
with a shameful death!"
The stranger turned to Esperance and examined him closely.
"Are you the son of Monte-Cristo?" he asked, visibly agitated.
"I am," answered Esperance, 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 magnificent
diamond ring he wore flashed in the moonlight. The new comer took his
hand and glanced at the jewel, one that the Count of Monte-Cristo had
worn for years and which he had but a few days before presented to his
son.
"I am convinced," said the stranger. Then, turning to the leader, he
said, in a tone of command: "Release these men!"
"But they have slain Ludovico!"
"Release them!" thundered the stranger. "Ludovico should have known
better 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 your
route. Say to the Count of Monte-Cristo that Luigi Vampa remembers his
compact and is faithful to it!"
As he spoke the notorious bandit chief gathered his men together, and
the whole band vanished among the trees like so many spirits of the
night.