THE RAID ON THE BANDITS.
When Ali reached the Hotel 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 fatal drive 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 the rest 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 Swiss Guard
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 Hotel 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 Hotel 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 very intelligent 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
would make 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 had ceased, 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 concluded that 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 and barouche 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.