The cicerones looked at each other in amazement; the young soldier's questions startled them. Valentine was not less amazed and startled than the guides; she stared at her husband, speechless at the strange interest he displayed in this miserable outcast.

"Can you take us to him?" repeated Maximilian.

"Signor," said the guide belonging to the hotel, "you are jesting!"

"I am not jesting, I am in earnest," said M. Morrel. "Answer my question."

"Of course, we can take you to him, signor," answered the guide; "but you had best avoid him; the sight of the wretched Ma.s.setti will drive your lady out of her wits!"

At the name Ma.s.setti both Maximilian and Valentine started; they glanced at each other and at the man who had spoken, thinking that they had not heard aright.

"Ma.s.setti!" cried M. Morrel, when his astonishment permitted him to find words. "Did you say Ma.s.setti?"

"Yes, signor, I said Ma.s.setti. The maniac is old Count Ma.s.setti's disowned and disinherited son!"

"What! The Viscount Giovanni?"

"The same, signor!"

"Oh! this is dreadful, dreadful, Maximilian!" whispered Valentine, clinging still closer to her husband.

"It is, indeed, dreadful; doubly so because entirely unexpected," said M. Morrel. "But I must see young Ma.s.setti--it was, no doubt, some mysterious influence, some indescribable magnetic power, operating between us, that made me wish to see this man, this maniac, as soon as he was mentioned!--I must see him and at once!"

As the guides possessed but a very slight knowledge of the French language, in which the dialogue between the husband and wife had been carried on, they failed to grasp the full import of the brief conversation; they, however, understood that their patrons were in some inexplicable way interested in the maniac of the Colosseum and appalled by the sudden discovery of his ident.i.ty. The situation puzzled and dissatisfied them.

After thinking for an instant, Maximilian said to his wife:

"I will instruct the guide from the hotel to conduct you back to our apartments. It is best that I should meet poor Ma.s.setti alone; seeing the wretched man in his present terrible condition would certainly shock and unnerve you."

Valentine gazed pleadingly into her husband's face. All her fear had left her. She was calm now and resolved. She had proposed the trip to Rome, the project of aiding the Viscount, and she did not wish to recoil from taking a single step that might be beneficial to Giovanni and Zuleika. She said, bravely:

"Do not send me from you, Maximilian! I will be stout-hearted and courageous! I am not afraid of this poor young man now, maniac though he be! Perhaps I may be able to help you in dealing with him, for a woman's wit and tenderness, they say, can sometimes subdue and pacify those whose minds are disordered when all a man's efforts have failed."

Maximilian looked at her lovingly and admiringly.

"So be it, Valentine," he replied, much affected. "You shall remain with me and we will face the trial together!"

His wife's eyes expressed her satisfaction at this display of confidence; she simply grasped her husband's hand, but though she uttered not a word the warm pressure she gave it spoke volumes.

M. Morrel turned to the cicerones, who were waiting in silent bewilderment.

"Take us to this maniac without an instant's delay!" he said.

The guides exchanged glances, shook their heads as if in protest and again began making the sign of the cross. Maximilian was compelled to repeat his command somewhat sternly and imperatively before they made a movement to obey it; then very reluctantly they motioned their patrons to follow them and took the lead, muttering prayers to the Blessed Virgin.

The little party quitted the sombre gallery and made their way into the open air. After they had gone about twenty yards the guides came to an abrupt halt and one of them pointed to the centre of the vast gladiatorial arena.

"Look, signor!" he said to M. Morrel. "There stands the maniac of the Colosseum!"

Maximilian and Valentine peered quickly and anxiously in the direction indicated but saw nothing.

"There, signor!" repeated the cicerone, still pointing.

Then, all of a sudden, Maximilian and Valentine beheld the figure of a man standing as motionless as a statue beside a vast fragment of stone.

The moonlight fell full upon a manly, n.o.ble form, revealing a handsome countenance that might have belonged to one of the old Roman G.o.ds. The man's dress was in picturesque disorder and on his bare head was a crown of ivy leaves. In one hand he held a tall staff, while the other was lifted menacingly.

"Hark!" said one of the guides, with a shudder. "He is cursing!"

M. and Mme. Morrel listened, horror-stricken, filled with a nameless dread. A faint, but distinct murmur reached them, gradually swelling in volume. It was a fierce, bitter malediction, full of intense, burning hatred, seeming to embrace G.o.d, man and the entire universe in its scope.

The guides fell upon their knees, uncovered their heads and prayed to the Virgin in low tones.

Maximilian took Valentine by the hand.

"Come," said he, "let us go to him!"

Mme. Morrel trembled slightly, but answered, firmly:

"I am ready!"

Then, hand in hand, slowly, cautiously, not knowing what might happen, they advanced towards the maniac of the Colosseum.

CHAPTER XVII.

PEPPINO'S STORY.

At the appointed hour, of which he had been duly notified by the Procureur de la Republique, the Count of Monte-Cristo entered the room set apart for the use of the Juge d' Instruction at the police poste where Peppino and Beppo were confined. The magistrate was already on the judicial bench and by his side stood the Deputy Procureur, who was explaining to him the wishes of his superior. As Monte-Cristo came in he bowed to the Juge and the Deputy, who returned his salute with all the respect due to so exalted a personage.

"Messieurs," said the Count, after this exchange of civilities, "you are, of course, aware of the reason of my presence here this afternoon, so we can proceed to business at once, but before the Italians are brought in I have a slight favor to ask."

"Name it, M. the Count," said the Juge d' Instruction, blandly. "We shall be happy to grant it if it lies within our power to do so."

"Well, messieurs," said the Count of Monte-Cristo, stepping upon the platform and leaning on the Juge's desk, "it is simply this. The prisoner calling himself Peppino is in possession of certain details to which I attach considerable importance. He has promised to reveal them to me as the price of his liberty and that of his companion. It is needless to say that the sole motive of my interference in this matter is to obtain these details. Now, from long experience I know all the trickery and treachery of the Italian nature. Once free, this man might snap his fingers in my face and refuse to speak. After the formalities of the law have been duly complied with, I wish the prisoners remanded to their cells and informed that their liberation will take place only when Peppino has given me the promised intelligence."

"That will be but a trifling stretch of my authority," replied the Juge d' Instruction, smiling, "if it is any stretch whatever, for, as I understand the case, the prisoners are to remain virtually in your custody until their departure from France, for which you have pledged your word to the Procureur de la Republique. Hence the favor you ask shall be cheerfully granted."

As he concluded the Juge d' Instruction glanced at the Deputy Procureur, who nodded a.s.sent.

The magistrate touched a bell that stood on his desk and said to the gardien de la paix who answered the summons:

"Bring in the prisoners."

Monte-Cristo and the Deputy retired from the platform, seating themselves in a couple of fauteuils placed at a table immediately in front of the Juge's desk.

As the two Italians were brought in Peppino glanced first at the magistrate on the bench and then at the Deputy. Finally his eyes rested on the Count, when his countenance instantly lighted up; he instinctively felt that Monte-Cristo's mysterious influence had been fully as potent with the authorities of Paris as with Luigi Vampa and his band, that the wonderful man had succeeded in effecting the liberation of himself and Beppo.