"They are almost here!"

Zuleika looked, in her turn, through the branches.

"The gardener and his a.s.sistants," she whispered, nearly petrified by consternation. "They have evidently learned that you scaled the wall and are in quest of you!"

"See," said Giovanni, breathlessly, pointing to a group behind the men.

"A number of nuns are also coming!"

"They are searching for me! Oh! Giovanni, fly, fly instantly!"

"And leave you to suffer, to bear the weight of my imprudence! Never! I will stay and protect you!"

"You will not protect me by remaining. You will only compromise us both the more. Go, I beseech you, go, while there is yet time!"

With tears in her imploring eyes, Zuleika pushed her lover gently towards the wall. He gazed at her for an instant and then at the approaching men and nuns, who were now very near.

The girl clasped her hands supplicatingly, then mutely pointed to the wall.

"It is your wish?" asked Ma.s.setti, hurriedly.

Zuleika nodded her head affirmatively, and still more imperatively pointed to the wall.

"I will obey you," whispered the young Italian, "and I will 'wait and hope!'"

She had gained the victory. A joyous love-light came into her eyes, for the moment eclipsing her terror. Giovanni could not resist the temptation to embrace her, even in the face of the danger that threatened him. He wound his arms about her yielding form, drew her to him with a crushing strain, showering burning kisses upon her upturned lips.

"Farewell," he murmured, reluctantly releasing her, "farewell, my own!"

He turned from her and ran to the wall, scaled it with the agility of a cat and vanished.

When the gardener and his a.s.sistants reached the elm, they found Zuleika standing there alone. Had they seen Ma.s.setti scale the wall? Had they recognized him? These thoughts shot through the girl's agitated mind.

She gave no attention to her own peril.

The men came to a halt and stood silently by, waiting for the nuns to arrive. Horror was pictured on their aged countenances, and they stared at Monte-Cristo's daughter as if she had committed some heinous, unpardonable crime.

The group of nuns speedily arrived, headed by Sister Agatha, who held an open letter in her hand. Zuleika gazed at this letter in silent dismay.

It was hers, the one Giovanni had written her! How had it got into Sister Agatha's possession? She mechanically felt in her bosom where she had secreted it, as she thought, safely. Her hand touched only the empty envelope. The note must have fallen upon the floor of the school-room and been found by some malicious pupil, who, after reading it and discovering its compromising contents, had surrendered it to the nun, thus divulging the weighty secret.

Zuleika stood abashed and terror-stricken. No chance of escape now. No chance for deception had she wished to essay it. The letter told the whole story, and the proof of its truth was furnished, for was she not at the appointed rendezvous, and was it not probable that the men and the nuns had seen Giovanni quit her and scale the garden wall?

The nuns looked as horrified as the old servants, but they were more to be dreaded; they possessed the power of reprimanding and punishing, and what punishment would they think too severe in this extreme case? Sister Agatha spoke. Her tone was milder than Zuleika had expected.

"Oh! mademoiselle," she said, reproachfully, "what is this? A meeting with a lover, and within these holy precincts dedicated to celibacy, chast.i.ty and sacred things! What will your father, the Count of Monte-Cristo, say when your conduct is reported to him? You are young, and allowance must be made for youthful blood and pa.s.sionate impulses; but still you have done wrong, very wrong! Is this man, who signs himself Giovanni and who just left you, your betrothed?"

"He is," murmured Zuleika, blushing and holding down her head.

"With your father's permission, mademoiselle?"

"My father does not object to him," replied the girl evasively.

"In that case your fault is not so great as I at first supposed," said the nun. "You are pardonable for receiving the man, who, with your father's consent, is in time to become your husband; but, nevertheless, in meeting him within the convent grounds you are censurable for lack of discipline, and also for conniving at a breach of our rule which excludes all male visitors, save parents or guardians."

Zuleika bowed her head in submission.

"The punishment," continued Sister Agatha, "shall be as light as possible, however, if you have never before met this man within the convent grounds."

"I have never met him here before," said Zuleika, "and I only met him in this instance because--because--"

She hesitated and burst into tears.

"Because what, my poor child?" asked the nun, kindly.

"Because I love him so, and because I was afraid, if I did not meet him, in his desperation he would seek me out in face of you all!"

"Have you ever written to him since you have been in this school?"

"Never!"

"Has he ever written to you before?"

"You hold his first letter to me in your hand!"

"How was this letter delivered, by what means did it reach you?"

Her face one ma.s.s of crimson, trembling from head to foot, Zuleika told the whole story of her adventure at noon that day. How she had strayed from her companions without any definite intention; how she had seated herself within the screening branches of the elm to meditate; how she had heard the singular noise in the chestnut tree, and, finally, how the letter, fastened to a stone, had come fluttering over the wall and fallen at her feet.

The nuns glanced at each other, horrified and amazed at the audacity of the young Italian.

"Zuleika," said Sister Agatha, "I told you your punishment should be as light as possible. You have been exposed and reprimanded; the blush of shame has been brought to your cheek! This, I think, is penalty sufficient for a first offense, considering also that it was, in a measure, forced upon you. But beware of a second infraction of our rules! Now, return to your companions."

So it happened that Zuleika suffered but slightly for the imprudence and headlong devotion of her lover. Fearing gossip, the Sisterhood of the Sacred Heart suppressed the matter, and the Count of Monte-Cristo never heard of it. Zuleika expected ridicule from her companions, but the warm-blooded, romantic Italian girls, instead of ridiculing her, looked upon her as a heroine and envied her the possession of a lover daring and devoted enough to scale the wall of a convent garden.

CHAPTER IV.

A STORMY INTERVIEW.

When Captain Joliette entered the dressing-room of Mlle. d' Armilly, after quitting the Count of Monte-Cristo at the Apollo Theatre on the sudden termination of the performance of "Lucrezia Borgia," he found the prima donna lying upon a sofa and slowly recovering from the effects of her swoon. Her maid and the ladies of the company, the latter still in their stage attire, were giving her every attention. It was a strange and somewhat grotesque scene--a real drama with theatrical surroundings.

The blazing lights, enclosed by their wire spheres, threw a ruddy glare upon the faces of those present, making them appear weird and witch-like in their paint and powder. On chairs and tables lay Mlle. d' Armilly's changes of dress for the performance and her street garments, while upon a broad shelf in front of a mirror were the various mysterious articles used in her make-up--rouge, grease-paint, poudre de riz, etc., together with brushes and numerous camel's hair pencils. A basin filled with water stood on a washstand, and on the floor was the pitcher, in company with a heterogeneous collection of stage and street boots belonging to the eminent songstress. The director of the theatre was standing anxiously beside the suffering prima donna, mentally calculating the chances of her ability to appear the following night. Leon d' Armilly was walking back and forth in the small apartment, wringing his hands and shedding tears like a woman, while at the open door lounged the tenor and baritone of the troupe, their countenances wearing the usual listless expression of veteran opera singers who, from long habit, are thoroughly accustomed to the indispositions and caprices of prima donnas and consider them as incidental to the profession.

As Captain Joliette came in, Leon ran to him and exclaimed amid his tears:

"Oh! how could you bring that odious man to your box! See how the very sight of him has affected my poor sister!"

At these words Mlle. d' Armilly roused herself and, springing to her feet, faced the young soldier in a fit of uncontrollable rage.