Edmond Dantes Part 39

"Bound by an oath?"

"Yes, papa; but why both of them should have been so bound, unless they were accomplices, I cannot see; I even went so far as to accuse Esperance of complicity, whereupon he grew as white as chalk and protested his entire innocence, and in his confusion uttered the name of Luigi Vampa."

"Zuleika, Zuleika, you certainly misunderstood your brother; he could not have mentioned the name of that man! Do you know who this Luigi Vampa is?"

"Perfectly, papa; Luigi Vampa is a notorious Roman brigand."

"Exactly, my child, and therefore could not possibly have had any dealings either with the Viscount or Esperance."

"But I am sure of the name, nevertheless. Esperance said Luigi Vampa."

M. Dantes was evidently startled; he arose to his feet and paced the library excitedly. Zuleika had expected this, and hence was not surprised. At last her father resumed his seat, and when he again came within reach of the lamp's rays she saw that his visage was even more pallid than usual and that he was not a little agitated. She waited for him to speak, and in a few seconds he did so.

"Zuleika," said he, in a tone of decision, "I will see both the Viscount and my son in regard to this matter, for now that Luigi Vampa seems to have had a share in it, close investigation is imperatively demanded."

"You may interrogate them, papa, but I am convinced in advance that you will derive no information from either of them. The strange power that holds sway over them you cannot break, but there is one thing you can do."

"What is that, Zuleika?"

"Write to Luigi Vampa!"

"Write to Vampa? Why should I do that?"

"Because I feel a.s.sured that he is in possession of the full details of the terrible secret, whatever it may be, and will communicate them to you if you ask him to do so."

M. Dantes gazed at his daughter curiously.

"What makes you think I have such influence over this Roman brigand?"

he asked, sharply.

"Oh! papa, do not be angry with me!" cried Zuleika; "but I have heard how Vampa released the Viscount de Morcerf at your simple solicitation without a single franc of ransom, though he had previously demanded a very large amount from the unfortunate man as the price of his liberty.

I have heard this, and the natural inference I drew was that, if the brigand chief went so far as to surrender his prey to you, he would certainly answer your letter and tell you all he knew about the matter that so closely concerns my happiness and Esperance's good name."

"I am not angry with you, my child," replied the Deputy, in a milder tone, "for I know how deeply you have this affair at heart. I will write to Luigi Vampa as you desire, this very night, and in two weeks at the furthest his answer may be expected, but to-morrow I will talk with Esperance and then will question the Viscount. Rest a.s.sured that this matter shall be sifted to the bottom. I know the extent of your love for Giovanni Ma.s.setti; I also feel confident that I am not deceived in him, and that he will be amply able to prove himself entirely worthy of your hand. I have seen too much of men, Zuleika, and studied them too deeply, to be deceived in reading character."

"Oh! thank you, thank you ever so much, papa, both for your promise, and your kind, encouraging words. I, too, have full faith in Giovanni, but still I cannot rest satisfied until his record is entirely and conclusively cleared. No one must have the power to breathe even a suspicion against the good name of your daughter's husband!"

"Spoken like a girl of spirit!" said M. Dantes, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm and admiration. "Now leave me, and I will write to Vampa."

Zuleika kissed her father and quitted the library with a much lighter heart than she had entered it.

M. Dantes, by the exercise of his iron will, had managed to control himself in her presence, but now that she had gone he gave free course to his emotions. For a full hour he sat leaning on his writing-table, his frame convulsed with anguish, and his mind filled with sad forebodings. He did not for an instant doubt that both Esperance and the Viscount could clear themselves from any criminal or dishonorable charge, if they would consent to open their lips, but their silence and Zuleika's belief that they were bound by some fearful oath gave him great uneasiness. Besides, his son had mentioned Luigi Vampa's name, and the thought that the young man was involved in some complication with the Roman bandit sent a chill to his heart. He was convinced that whatever had occurred had been merely the result of the folly and headlong disposition of youth, but this was scarcely a consolation, for he well knew to what length young men sometimes allowed themselves to be carried, especially in what they considered a love-affair.

In addition, the more he thought of the half-forgotten Roman scandal, the more clearly its particulars returned to him. He remembered that a young and handsome peasant girl had been mysteriously abducted, and that eventually she had been brought back to her home by one of the shepherds known to be in league with Luigi Vampa and his band. She a.s.serted that she had been carried off to the bandits' haunt by her youthful lover, who had pa.s.sed for a peasant lad, but was in reality a n.o.bleman. This was all M. Dantes could distinctly recall, though he was certain he had heard other details that had slipped his memory. At the period of the abduction, he now remembered, both Esperance and the Viscount were temporarily absent from Rome; then followed their return and the quarrel that had almost resulted in a duel, but had suddenly been patched up without apparent reason. Had Esperance and the Viscount been concerned in the abduction? That was a question that only they or Luigi Vampa could answer, and it was evident the young men would not speak. Vampa then must be made to speak for them; that was the sole course left to pursue, for the peasant girl had disappeared immediately after her return, and her whereabouts were a mystery.

M. Dantes drew writing materials before him and wrote his letter to the brigand chief; it was brief, but to the point. When it was finished, it bore the signature, "Edmond Dantes, Count of Monte-Cristo." The Deputy placed it in the drawer of his table to go by mail the following morning, having first folded and sealed it. "Thomson and French, Rome,"

was the direction it bore.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

TWO INTERVIEWS.

The morning following the events detailed in the last chapter, as Esperance was in his dressing-room preparing to take a short stroll through Paris, Ali knocked at the door and signified that M. Dantes wished to see him at once in the library. As such a summons was something unusual, the young man immediately concluded that Zuleika had been in consultation with her father and that he would now have to submit to a close and rigid examination; he had expected such an examination, but, nevertheless, the summons filled him with dismay and he grew pale as wax, his limbs trembling beneath him and his hands working nervously; however, he braced up as well as he could, and with as firm a step as it was possible for him to a.s.sume walked toward the library. On the threshold he paused, and his courage so utterly forsook him that he was tempted to take refuge in flight, but the thought flashed through his mind that this would be cowardly, and, making a supreme effort to control himself, he entered his father's presence.

M. Dantes, who was seated at his writing-table examining a curious ma.n.u.script written in Arabic characters, looked up as he came in and fixed his eyes searchingly upon his son's countenance, noting its extreme pallor and remarking with manifest uneasiness the difficulty Esperance experienced in maintaining a firm demeanor. Motioning the young man to a seat, he said:

"My son, I have sent for you on a matter of the utmost importance, and I sincerely hope you will see fit to tell me in all frankness whatever you may know in regard to it."

Esperance partially closed his eyes as if suffering intensely, bringing his teeth firmly together and compressing his lips. As he did not speak, M. Dantes continued:

"I have every reason to believe that the revelation I am about to ask of you will be exceedingly painful for you to make, but you must consider that your sister's happiness is deeply concerned and that, for that reason, no matter what may be your motives, you have not the right to maintain silence."

"I know what you mean, father," replied Esperance in an unsteady voice, "but, notwithstanding the pain it gives me to do so, I must ask you, nay, entreat you not to question me, for I cannot answer you!"

M. Dantes cast upon his son a glance that seemed to pierce him through and through; the young man quailed beneath it and again partially closed his eyes, while a faint blue shade was mixed with the waxen pallor of his visage. The Deputy, though he had made a profound and exhaustive study of men and their varied motives, though he was a skilled anatomist of the human heart and a ready reader of the human countenance, acknowledged to himself that this time he was completely baffled. Was it fear or guilt that Esperance exhibited? He could not tell; but it was abundantly evident that the young man was not acting a part, that he keenly felt the suspicions to which he was exposing himself by his inexplicable conduct. At length M. Dantes said, in a mild but determined tone:

"Esperance, my son, you can, at least, enlighten me upon a few points, and I request, nay, I command you to do so. Are you bound by oath to preserve silence concerning this matter?"

"I am bound by a most solemn oath!" answered the young man with a shudder.

"And is Giovanni Ma.s.setti likewise so bound?"

"He is!"

"I will not ask you who administered that oath to you or under what circ.u.mstances it was taken, although as your father I have a right to do so and to compel you to answer; neither will I interrogate you further in regard to the main question at issue, the complication in which you and the Viscount seem to be so hopelessly involved; but I insist that you inform me whether any guilt or stain of dishonor rests upon you!"

"Father," said Esperance, rising and lifting his right hand toward heaven, "I solemnly swear to you that whatever wrong may have been done, whatever crime may have been committed, I am entirely guiltless and that there is not the slightest stain of dishonor upon me!"

"I believe you, my son," said M. Dantes, in a tone of conviction, "and this unequivocal a.s.surance from your own lips removes the weight of a mountain from me. Now, tell me, is the Viscount Ma.s.setti as blameless in this affair as you are?"

"The so-called Viscount Ma.s.setti is a black-hearted villain!" cried Esperance, excitedly. "He is guilty of a foul and revolting crime, a crime that should condemn him to a life of penal servitude!"

"But may you not be mistaken, may you not be the victim of some delusion?" asked M. Dantes, anxiously.

"I am neither mistaken, father, nor the victim of a delusion," replied Esperance, positively. "The charges that I make against that miserable apology for a man I can fully substantiate should the proper opportunity ever be offered me!"

"Zuleika informed me that, while you were speaking with her upon this mysterious subject, the name of Luigi Vampa escaped your lips. Does that notorious brigand posses a knowledge of this unfortunate matter?"

Esperance became violently agitated and instantly answered:

"That is a question my oath forbids me to reply to!"

"So be it," said M. Dantes; "but I have written him and he will reply for you!"

"You have written to Vampa!" exclaimed the young man, with a terror-stricken look. "Then all is lost!"