CHAPTER XXVII.

THE BANDITS' REPRISALS.

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 hotel 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 unknown to

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 Hotel 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. Make a 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 Hotel 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 protege so tractable. "I will continue the work I have begun

and also endeavor 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 Hotel 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 hotel 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 with Peppino;

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.

Monte-Cristo's Daughter · 第 27 / 30 章