Monte-Cristo's Daughter
worst, I pledge myself to surrender with my friend at the first summons
to do so, and to assure the brigand chief that your father is altogether
blameless. Come, can I not prevail upon you to be generous and humane?"
"Well," said the peasant, partially satisfied, "I will trust you, though
I am taking a great risk. Should Vampa be offended, he will burn our hut
over our heads and murder us all without pity. However, both your
wounded friend and yourself shall have such poor shelter as our humble
roof affords."
Giovanni was aided to arise, and, taking him between them, Esperance and
the peasant began their walk. Fortunately they did not have far to go,
otherwise the young Viscount's failing strength would have been unequal
to the task. They quitted the highway, plunging into a narrow footpath
closely wooded on either side; so thickly, in fact, did the tree
branches interlace overhead that the moonbeams were effectually excluded
and almost impenetrable darkness reigned. For an instant Esperance was
apprehensive of treachery, but this fear was dispelled when he thought
of the manly bearing of the youthful peasant and the dread of the
brigands he had expressed. The three could scarcely walk abreast in the
narrow pathway, and every now and then Giovanni stumbled against some
protruding root or other obstacle invisible in the obscurity; but the
peasant knew the road perfectly, and with no uncertain step hurried his
companions on as rapidly as possible.
Soon the path widened somewhat, the light commenced to sift through the
dense foliage, and the gurgling of a noisy brook was heard at no great
distance. Suddenly they made an abrupt turn, coming in sight of a small,
neat-looking cabin, covered with clustering vines and embowered in
verdure. The brook dashed along within a few yards of it, the fresh odor
of the water mingling gratefully with the perfume of honeysuckles and
the aromatic scent of the surrounding forest. It was, indeed, a
beautiful and highly romantic spot, a cosy, sequestered nook, such as
that in which King Henry hid away his love, the Fair Rosamond, from the
prying glances of the inquisitive world. Esperance gazed at it with
rapture, and even Giovanni, wounded and exhausted as he was, could not
refrain from uttering an exclamation of astonishment and admiration. The
cabin was closed and not a sign of life was visible.
"We have arrived," said the peasant, in a low voice. Quitting his
companions, he went to a window, against which he gave three distinct
raps.
The signal was almost immediately answered by three similar raps from
within; then the window was thrown open and a woman's head appeared. The
moonlight fell full upon her face, and both Esperance and Giovanni
suddenly started as they recognized Annunziata Solara, the bewitching
flower-girl of the Piazza del Popolo.
"It is she--it is Annunziata!" whispered the young Viscount in his
comrade's ear.
"Hush!" returned the latter, in a guarded undertone. "Do not betray
yourself! She will never recognize us, disguised as we are! Besides, our
guide's suspicions must not be aroused! He might yet refuse us shelter!"
"You are right, as you always are," answered Massetti. "We must maintain
our incognito, at least until we are sure of our ground."
Meanwhile the peasant was speaking hastily with Annunziata.
"Sister," he said, "I am not alone; two travelers, peasants like
ourselves, are with me. They were attacked by Luigi Vampa's men, and one
of them is sorely wounded."
"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed the girl, evidently filled with terror.
"They claim our hospitality for the night and our assistance until aid
can be procured from Rome. In my father's name I have accorded them
shelter. Open the door and admit us."
The girl disappeared from the window and in another instant had flung
the door open. As she stood there in the silverly light, the state of
her garments and hair indicating that she had hurriedly risen from her
couch, her bright, picturesque beauty was vastly heightened. The young
men thought they had never beheld a more entrancing vision of female
loveliness.
"Where is father?" asked the peasant, anxiously.
"He has not yet returned," replied the girl.
The guide uttered a sigh of relief.
"I am glad," said he, "for Pasquale Solara does not like strangers. Were
he here he might refuse to exercise hospitality towards this wounded man
and his companion, even though they are, as they assert, friends of
Luigi Vampa."
"Friends of Luigi Vampa!" echoed the girl, becoming greatly alarmed.
"The Blessed Virgin protect us!"
"They are not brigands, at any rate," said the peasant, "and I believe
them honest men. If, however, they are deceiving me, I shall know how to
act!"
There was an ominous flash in his eye as he spoke, and his hand again
sought the weapon concealed within his bosom. Esperance, who had been
intently listening to this conversation and had marked every motion of
the young peasant, felt his suspicions revive; but there was no time for
hesitation; shelter and aid for his friend were of the first necessity;
they must be obtained at once and at any cost. He had refrained from
offering the peasant money, not wishing to betray that he and his
companion were other personages than they seemed, and now that
Annunziata had appeared upon the scene he congratulated himself on the
wisdom of his course. He, nevertheless, feared Giovanni's impulsiveness
in the presence of the girl he so much admired, and determined to watch
him as closely as possible, in order to promptly check all damaging
disclosures. If Giovanni remained in this attractive nook long enough to
open and carry on a flirtation with the beautiful flower-girl, he must
do so solely as a peasant and under the cover of his clever disguise. It
was hardly likely that Annunziata would recognize in Massetti and
himself the two youthful gallants she had encountered but for a moment
amid the gay throng and crush of the brilliant Piazza del Popolo.
While these thoughts went flashing through his mind, the young Viscount,
leaning heavily upon his arm, had not taken his eyes from the handsome,
tempting girl before him. Suffering as he was, he longed to be at her
side, to clasp her lovely shape, to feel her warm, voluptuous breath
stream over his face and imprint kiss after kiss on her ripe red lips.
He had not forgotten Zuleika. Oh! no! But Annunziata Solara was an
altogether different being, a girl to delight him, intoxicate him, for a
moment as the other for life. For Monte-Cristo's daughter his feeling
was love, for the fascinating flower-girl of the Piazza del Popolo it
was a passion to be sated.
After a few more words to his sister, the peasant returned to the young
men, aiding Esperance to transport Giovanni into the cabin. The interior
of this humble abode was as neat and picturesque as the exterior. The
room they entered was small and cheaply furnished, but feminine taste
was everywhere displayed. A single candle was the only light, but the
scanty illumination sufficed to show the refining touches of a woman's
hand. In one corner stood a bed, the covers of which were turned down,
and upon which was impressed the shape of its late occupant. At the head
of the bed a brass crucifix was suspended from the wall, while over the
back of a chair hung articles of a woman's apparel. Giovanni could not
doubt that he was in Annunziata's chamber, and that the imprint on the
bed was hers. He felt a thrill of joy at the idea that he was to occupy
the bewitching flower-girl's couch, to occupy, perhaps, the very place
where she had lain but a short time before.
Annunziata, who had thrown a cloak over her shoulders and night clothes,
but whose feet were still bare, had accompanied her brother and his
companions to the apartment. She eyed the strangers timidly, but
curiously, though it was quite plain she failed to penetrate their
disguise. With deft hands she rearranged the bed and removed her
garments from the chair. Then she retired to another room, and the
wounded Viscount was aided to undress and assisted into the couch by the
peasant and Esperance, where he eventually fell asleep in a delirium of
bliss, after his hurt had been properly cared for.
Esperance was duly bestowed for the night, and soon unbroken silence
brooded over the solitary cabin in the forest.
Thus was enacted the initial scene of a drama that was destined to be
fruitful in disastrous results, results that clouded more than one happy
life.
CHAPTER VIII.
A SYLVAN IDYL.
In the morning the Viscount Massetti's arm was found to be so much
swollen and his wound so painful that it was deemed advisable to send
for a physician, who resided in a neighboring hamlet not more than a
mile distant from the cabin of the Solaras. The man of medicine was soon
at Giovanni's bedside. After examining and dressing his hurt, he
declared that the patient ought not to be moved for at least a week, a
piece of intelligence at which the young man inwardly rejoiced,
notwithstanding all the torture he suffered, for his sojourn involved
nursing at the hands of the beautiful Annunziata, who had already shown
him that she possessed tenderness and a kind heart, as well as good
looks.
Esperance held a conference with his friend after the physician's
departure to decide upon what should be done. He proposed to go at once
to Rome and acquaint the Viscount's family with what had happened and
Giovanni's condition, but the young man firmly opposed this plan,
declaring that he would be well in a few days at most and protesting
that informing his relatives of his situation would involve explanations
he had no desire to give. Giovanni also begged Esperance to remain with
him and give no sign as to their place of retreat; so earnestly did he
solicit these favors that the son of Monte-Cristo, much against his will
and with many forebodings, finally consented to grant them.
Pasquale Solara returned home late on the day following the arrival of
the strangers at his hut. He was an old, but sturdy shepherd, whose
rough, sunburned visage spoke of exposure to the weather and hard toil.
He frequently was absent for days and nights in succession, absences
that he never explained and about which his son and daughter did not
dare to question him, for Pasquale was a harsh man, who grew angry at
the slightest pretext and was inclined to be severe with all who sought
to pry into his affairs. He expressed great fear of the bandits who
infested the vicinity of Rome and especially of Luigi Vampa's band, but
those who knew him best shook their heads doubtingly, and, though they
did not say so, it was plainly to be seen that they deemed this fear
merely assumed for purposes of his own. At any rate, it was a
significant fact that Pasquale was never disturbed in his wanderings,
while the brigands always left his dwelling and its inmates unmolested.
The old shepherd frowned darkly when informed by his children that they
had given shelter to a couple of travelers, one of whom had been wounded
in a fight with a brigand, but he said nothing and appeared disposed to
accept the situation without even a grumble. He did not, however, enter
the chamber in which Giovanni lay and avoided coming in contact with
Esperance, who caught but a passing glimpse of him ere he departed
again on another expedition, which he did after a stay of only half an
hour at his cabin.
The young peasant and Esperance soon became quite friendly, indulging in
many a ramble in the forest and beside the gurgling brook. The peasant's
name was Lorenzo, and he appeared to lead a free life, totally
unencumbered with avocation of any kind, save occasionally looking after
a few sheep that never strayed far from the banks of the little stream.