Monte-Cristo's Daughter Part 8

"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 a.s.sistance," 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 a.s.sa.s.sinated! 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 s.p.a.ce the lieutenant and his companions returned; two of the men bore the corpse of the huge robber; they placed it on the gra.s.s 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 fas.h.i.+on. 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 flas.h.i.+ng 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 Ma.s.setti 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 Ma.s.setti, 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, ign.o.bly 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!"