"Valentine, Valentine, where are you?"

"It is Maximilian," said Mme. Morrel to Zuleika. "He comes very opportunely!" Then raising her voice she answered him: "Here, Maximilian, here, in the summer pavilion at the extremity of the garden!"

The husband hastened to the spot, and Valentine, making him seat himself beside her and Monte-Cristo's daughter, told him all she had just learned. She also communicated to him the offer she had made to Zuleika, adding:

"You will consent to it, I know, Maximilian!"

"Gladly," answered the young soldier. "Had you not made the proposal, I should have made it myself!"

"Then we have but to induce Zuleika to authorize us to act. The poor child, however, hesitates, fearing the Count's displeasure."

"She need not authorize us," said Maximilian quickly. "We will a.s.sume the entire responsibility on the step! But it will be necessary for her to confide in us more fully, to give us the data upon which to build our plans. I will get letters of introduction to the Viscount Ma.s.setti and, once acquainted with him, the rest will be easy."

Later that night Zuleika told Mme. Morrel everything without reserve, even giving her a little note to Giovanni which stated that Valentine and Maximilian were her dearest friends and had come to Rome expressly to aid him in his troubles.

A week after the momentous interview in the pavilion M. and Mme. Morrel set out for Italy, informing their friends in the mansion on the Rue du Helder that they intended being absent some time, but refraining from giving even the slightest hint of the object of their journey.

CHAPTER XV.

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.

One morning shortly after the departure of the Morrels for Rome, the Count of Monte-Cristo was driving along the Champs-Elysees in his elegant barouche drawn by a pair of spirited, blooded bays, when, near the Rond-point, his progress was suddenly checked by a great, tumultuous concourse of people. Leaning from his carriage, he asked a workman the cause of the unwonted commotion and was informed that two Italians had been arrested for theft and were being taken to the poste of the quarter by a couple of gardiens de la paix. He thought nothing of the circ.u.mstance and was calmly waiting for an opportunity to proceed when the crowd about the barouche opened and the officers appeared with their captives. The Count was not much interested, but, nevertheless, bestowed a pa.s.sing glance upon the malefactors, who were loudly protesting their innocence in broken, almost unintelligible French, and offering a stout resistance. They were roughly attired in blue blouses, wearing felt hats that were pulled down and obscured their countenances. One of the men in custody caught hold of a spoke of a wheel of Monte-Cristo's vehicle, grasping it with such iron firmness that all the efforts of the policeman in charge of him failed to shake off his clutch. The Count ordered Ali, who was acting as coachman, to hand him the reins, dismount and a.s.sist the gardien.

At the sound of his voice, the man who had grasped the spoke looked up with a start and, without relaxing his hold, cried out in Italian:

"Say a word for me, your Excellency! The Count of Monte-Cristo should have as much power over the myrmidons of the French law as over Luigi Vampa and his band!"

This exclamation amazed and startled the Count, so strange and unlooked for was it. He gazed penetratingly at the malefactor who had uttered it, but his scrutiny was unrewarded by recognition.

"Who are you?" he asked, as soon as his amazement permitted him to speak, also making use of the Italian language. "You are a perfect stranger to me, yet you know my name and seem acquainted with some of my actions in the past. Who are you?"

"I am Peppino," answered the man, without taking his eyes from the Count. "My companion who is being dragged away yonder is Beppo."

"Peppino?--Beppo?" said the Count, musingly. "Surely I have heard those names before, but they are common in Italy, especially in Rome, and I have been there frequently. Be more explicit, man."

"I will," replied the Italian. "I am the Peppino who served you so well when Luigi Vampa held the French banker, Danglars, in captivity at your behest. As for Beppo, you cannot have forgotten him; he also was a member of Vampa's band at that period."

"Yes," said Monte-Cristo, "I remember both of you now, but what can I do for you? Paris is vastly different from Rome, and my influence with the French police is not by any means equal to that I wielded over Vampa and his brigands at the time you speak of."

"The Count of Monte-Cristo's power is unbounded anywhere in the entire world," rejoined the man, his brightened visage showing clearly the extent of his faith. "A word from him will release both Beppo and myself. Speak that word, your Excellency, and set us free!"

Ali had refrained from interfering when he heard this singular conversation, which he fully understood. He was waiting for further orders from his master.

The policeman grew impatient and, giving the Italian a rough shake, said to him:

"Come now, let go that spoke and submit. Don't you see that you are disturbing the Count of Monte-Cristo? His Excellency will do nothing for such a scoundrel as you. Come, let go that spoke, I say!"

Peppino, however, would not obey and continued to supplicate the Count to interfere in behalf of Beppo and himself. At last, driven to desperation by Monte-Cristo's inaction, he cried out to him:

"If your Excellency will do nothing for us without recompense, I will give that recompense; I will tell you in exchange for your efforts in our behalf all I know concerning the black conspiracy against the Viscount Giovanni Ma.s.setti!"

The Count was visibly moved by this speech. He stared at Peppino as if he thought that he had not heard aright.

"The Viscount Giovanni Ma.s.setti! A black conspiracy against him! What do you mean?" he inquired, quickly.

"Just what I say, your Excellency," answered the Italian. "I know that the Viscount visited the Palazzo Costi in Rome when you inhabited it with your family, and that he fell in love with your daughter. I also know the details of a plot by which a network of crushing circ.u.mstances has been woven about him with the view of burying him beneath a weight of shame, dishonor and even of crime! I can reveal those details and will do so if you aid my companion and myself in our present difficulty.

Do I interest you, Signor Count?"

"Vastly," answered Monte-Cristo, his face a.s.suming a serious look. "Go quietly with the gardien to the poste. I will follow immediately and see what can be done."

"Yes, your Excellency," said Peppino, submissively, and abandoning his grasp of the spoke he allowed the policeman to bear him away without further trouble. Meanwhile Beppo and the officer in whose custody he was had disappeared in the distance.

Those who had been near enough to the Count's barouche to witness this extraordinary scene were greatly astonished that such a famous character as the eloquent Deputy from Ma.r.s.eilles should stoop to converse with a malefactor in the public street, but their astonishment was immeasurably augmented when they saw the influence the celebrated orator exercised over the depraved Italian. They had not been able to understand the conversation, but the effect of Monte-Cristo's last words seemed little less than miraculous to them and they rent the air with loud and enthusiastic cheers.

"Long live the n.o.ble Count of Monte-Cristo! Long live the Deputy from Ma.r.s.eilles, the people's friend!" was shouted on every side.

Further on the cry was taken up and repeated, ringing forth far along the broad and beautiful Champs-Elysees!

Monte-Cristo arose in his barouche and, removing his hat, stood bareheaded, bowing to the excited populace.

This was the signal for new and heartier cheers. But the criminals having been removed, the crowd soon began to disperse. At length the thoroughfare was cleared and the Count's vehicle could proceed. Ali had impa.s.sibly resumed the driver's seat and, at a nod from his adored master, started the spirited horses down the immense avenue. As the blooded bays went prancing along with proudly arched necks, the Count bent over and said to Ali:

"Drive at once to the poste of the quarter."

The Nubian skilfully wheeled the animals about and in a few minutes Monte-Cristo had reached his destination.

At the door of the poste a gardien received him and, at the mention of his name, obsequiously conducted him to the officer in charge. The latter, a short, determined-looking man with a bristling gray moustache and gray hair that stood almost on end upon his little round head, recognized his ill.u.s.trious visitor at a glance. He hastily arose from the desk at which he was seated, engaged in examining the reports of his subordinates, and politely offered him a chair. Then he asked, deferentially:

"To what am I indebted for so distinguished an honor as a call from the Count of Monte-Cristo?"

"Monsieur," replied the Count, taking the proffered seat, "two Italians were arrested a short time ago on the Champs-Elysees and brought hither."

"Yes," said the chief of the poste, "and great scoundrels they are, too!

We have been shadowing them for some time, but could never detect them in any overt act until to-day. They belong to a very dangerous gang of prowlers, led by a shrewd German named Waldmann, whose headquarters are in a wretched caboulot of the Cite d' Antin."

"Of what are these Italians accused, that is what is the present specific charge against them?"

"They were caught picking pockets in the crowd thronging about a marionette show."

"Is the evidence against them conclusive?"

"It is."

"That is unfortunate," said the Count, "as one of them is in possession of information of the utmost importance to me. He has made partial revelations, but sets as the price of a full disclosure my interference in behalf of himself and his comrade in crime. What can be done?"