Edmond Dantes Part 36

"Has been deceived, as have many others, in regard to the true character and standing of this so-called Roman n.o.bleman."

"And is he not a n.o.bleman?"

"Once more I must refuse to answer any question in regard to him. I can only tell you to beware and shun him as you would a venomous serpent."

"Esperance, I love him!"

"Love him!--you love him, Zuleika! Oh! this is, indeed, torture!"

The young man dropped his sister's hand and flung himself upon a divan.

He was a prey to the most intense excitement.

Zuleika, deeply affected to see him thus, and remembering Giovanni's mysterious behavior, together with his strange and ominous words, when she had questioned him in regard to his quarrel with Esperance, felt for a moment shaken and uncertain. She also recollected that, at the time of the inexplicable difficulty between the two young men, she had heard rumors to the effect that a youthful member of the Roman aristocracy had abducted a beautiful peasant girl, in which affair he had been a.s.sisted by the notorious brigand Luigi Vampa; the matter, however, had almost immediately been hushed up and she had learned none of the circ.u.mstances. Could it be possible that Giovanni Ma.s.setti was the youthful aristocrat alluded to by the gossips and scandalmongers of the Eternal City--that he was the abductor of the unfortunate peasant girl?

She could not entertain such an idea, and yet that abduction, in spite of all her efforts, would a.s.sociate itself with her Italian lover in her mind.

She arose from her chair and, going to the divan, seated herself beside Esperance, determined to make a final attempt to draw his secret from him. Throwing her arms tenderly about his neck she said, in a coaxing tone:

"If any sound reason exists why I should not love Giovanni Ma.s.setti, and you know it, your plain duty as my brother is to tell me. Will you not tell me, Esperance?"

Instead of replying, the young man buried his face in his hands and fairly sobbed in his anguish. Zuleika was filled with pity for him, and, as she gazed at him, tears came into her eyes; but still bent on discovering the nature of the obstacle that had so suddenly loomed up between Giovanni and herself, she continued after a pause, in the same coaxing voice:

"Esperance, I am no longer a child and should not be treated as one.

What I ask of you is only reasonable and just. If I stand on the brink of a gulf I cannot see, it is your duty to inform me not only of my danger but also of its nature. Am I not right?"

Heaving a deep sigh, Esperance replied:

"Yes, you are right, Zuleika; it is my duty to tell you all--and yet I cannot!"

"At least, tell me why you are compelled to maintain silence on a matter of so much importance."

"Did you question the Viscount?"

"I did."

"And what answer did he return?"

"Like you, he refused to answer."

"Ah! then he has some sense of shame left!"

"Shame?"

"Yes, shame! And what did you do when he refused to speak?"

"I left him."

"And you will not see him again?"

"Not until he has decided to tell me all."

"Then you will never put eyes upon him more; he dare not tell you!"

"Dare not! And why?"

"Because, did you know the depth of his infamy, you would spurn him from you!"

Suddenly a grave suspicion stole into Zuleika's mind and made her tremble from head to foot. Might it not be that Esperance had been as deeply involved in the mysterious and infamous affair of which he declined to speak as Giovanni Ma.s.setti himself? The thought was torment, and totally unable to restrain her keen anxiety to be instantly informed upon this topic, Zuleika gasped out:

"Were you not, Esperance, as guilty as your former friend?"

The young man leaped to his feet as if a tarantula had bitten him.

"No, no!" cried he. "I was innocent of all blame in the matter! Luigi Vampa----"

He abruptly checked himself and stood staring at his sister, as if in dismay at having unguardedly uttered the brigand's name.

But Zuleika said nothing. Giovanni Ma.s.setti also had protested his innocence, and the young girl knew not what to believe. Luigi Vampa? So then he had been a party to this mysterious and terrible business, whatever it was! And again she thought of the abduction of the beautiful peasant girl. Could that be the fearful secret? Yes, it must be. Luigi Vampa had a.s.sisted in that abduction, if report could be relied on, and the chief criminal had been a youthful member of the Roman aristocracy.

Oh! it was all plain now. Zuleika shuddered and felt her heart grow heavy as lead, while a sharp, killing pang ran through it. Had Esperance been misled by Vampa and the Viscount? Had he discovered too late the infamy of the affair and challenged Ma.s.setti on that account? This was, doubtless, the solution of the whole enigma, and yet Zuleika hesitated to accept it as such. No, no, she could not accept it without further and more convincing proof! But how was that proof to be obtained?

Neither the Viscount nor her brother would speak; it was evident that their lips were sealed; possibly an oath to maintain silence had been extorted from them under terrible circ.u.mstances--an oath they feared to break even to clear themselves from a foul suspicion. But Vampa? He might, perhaps, be induced to give the key to the mystery. Vampa, however, was far away in Rome and inaccessible. Zuleika made a wild resolve--she would write to the brigand and throw herself upon his generosity; then she decided that the plan was impracticable; her letter would never reach Vampa--it would be seized by the Roman authorities and might cause additional trouble by reviving a smothered scandal--and even should it reach the brigand, would he answer it? The chances were a hundred to one that he would not. At this instant an inspiration came to the tortured girl like a flash of lightning. Her father had known Vampa in the past, and, perhaps, still possessed some influence over him. She had heard the story of Albert de Morcerf's adventure in the catacombs of Saint Sebastian, and was aware that the brigand chief had released him from captivity without ransom at her father's simple solicitation. Would not Vampa answer her questions if M. Dantes could be influenced to write him and ask them? She had full faith in her father's power to get a letter to the bandit notwithstanding all the vigilance of the Roman authorities. Yes, she would go to him, tell all her suspicions without reserve and beg him to write the letter; it was hardly likely he would refuse; he could not, he must not. Thus resolved, Zuleika looked her brother full in the face and said, calmly:

"I see I torture you with my questions, Esperance, that for some reason best known to yourself you cannot answer them, and that it is useless to torment you further. But something must be done and that at once. I am going to my father!"

Esperance caught her wildly by the arm.

"You are mad!" cried he.

"It is you who are mad--you and Giovanni! I tell you, I am going to my father; if you are innocent, you have nothing to fear from any revelation I may make!"

With these words she freed herself from her brother's grasp and quitted the salon, leaving Esperance standing in the centre of the apartment as if he were rooted to the spot.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CAPTAIN JOLIETTE'S LOVE.

In a small but cosy and elegant suite of apartments in a mansion on the Rue des Capucines resided Mlle. Louise d'Armilly and her brother Leon; as has already been stated, the celebrated cantatrice had retired from the boards in consequence of having inherited a fortune of several millions of francs from the estate of her deceased father, who, rumor a.s.serted, had been a very wealthy Parisian banker; Leon had abandoned the stage simultaneously with his sister, who had invited him to share her suddenly acquired riches, for, strange to say, the banker had not bequeathed to him a single sou.

The immense inheritance had been a complete surprise to Mlle. d'Armilly, and for some time she had hesitated to accept it, as a condition imposed by the will was her immediate withdrawal from her operatic career, and the prima donna was as ambitious as gifted; but, finally, she had yielded to the persuasive eloquence of the notary and the earnest entreaties of her friends, canceling all her engagements, and with them abandoning her bright professional future.

The director of the Academie Royale demanded a large sum to release the artiste from her contract with him, and this was paid by the notary with an alacrity that seemed to suggest he was not acting solely according to the directions of the will, but was influenced by some personage who chose to remain in the background; the notary also paid all other demands made by the various operatic managers who claimed they would lose by Mlle. d'Armilly's failure to appear; these amounts were not deducted from the legacy, a circ.u.mstance that gave additional color to the supposition that the will of the deceased banker was not the sole factor in the celebrated cantatrice's good luck.

One evening, shortly after Paris had again quieted down, Mlle. d'Armilly was seated in the little apartment that served her as a salon, and with her was her brother Leon. The contrast between the pair seemed intensified in private life. Louise had that dark, imperious, majestic beauty usually possessed by brunettes; her figure was full and finely developed, her black eyes had the deep, intense fire of pa.s.sion, and her faultless countenance, glowing with health and loveliness, indicated at once firmness, decision and caprices without number. Leon, on the contrary, was delicate and feminine in appearance; he had exceedingly small feet and hands, and a single glance at his strikingly handsome face was sufficient to convince any experienced judge of human nature that he possessed a mild and yielding disposition. The young man bore not the remotest family likeness to his sister, and it was difficult to realize that they could be in any way related.

Leon quitted his sister and, going to a piano that stood in one corner of the apartment, softly opened it and commenced lightly running his fingers over the keys; then he seated himself at the instrument and played an air from "Lucrezia Borgia" with brilliancy and effect that only a finished performer could attain. At the first notes Louise arose and approaching the piano stood beside the player, her eyes sparkling with appreciation and delight. So absorbed were the brother and sister that they did not hear a soft knock at the door, and only at the conclusion of the air did they realize that a visitor was in the apartment. Leon sprang from the instrument in confusion, behaving like a startled girl, but Mlle. d'Armilly, with perfect self-control, turned to the new comer and said, in a tone of mingled coquetry and merriment:

"So, so, Captain Joliette, your military career has accustomed you to surprising the enemy to such an extent that it has become second nature with you, and you cannot avoid carrying your favorite tactics even into private life!"