Monte-Cristo's Daughter
resolution, but she firmly persisted in it and finally he allowed her to
have her way. She quitted his side and approached Giovanni, her fine
countenance wearing a bewitching smile as seductive as that of a
Scandinavian valkyria ministering at the feast of heroes in the fabled
Valhalla.
The guides, who amid their petitions to the Blessed Virgin had steadily
watched the singular proceedings of their patrons, were both astounded
and horrified when they saw Valentine leave her husband and boldly walk
towards the maniac. They redoubled the fervency of their prayers and
breathlessly waited for what was about to happen.
The Viscount had not yet observed Valentine. When she came in front of
him and paused, still smiling, he saw her for the first time. Dropping
his staff, he clasped his hands and gazed at her in an ecstasy of
admiration.
"What beautiful, what heavenly vision is this?" he exclaimed, ardently,
his voice assuming more of the characteristics of humanity than it had
yet displayed.
Valentine was silent; she wished to get Massetti completely under her
influence before speaking to him. Motionless and statuesquely she stood,
allowing the maniac to gaze his fill at her.
"Who are you, divine vision?" continued the Viscount, seeming to think
himself the prey of some passing dream. "Oh! you are a spirit!--a
goddess such as of old presided over the sports of the
Colosseum!--perhaps Juno herself! Do not vanish from my sight, do not
become a filmy cloud and dissolve in ether! Oh! speak to me, glorious
apparition! Let me hear the celestial melody of your voice and die
listening to its marvellous cadences!"
Valentine, humoring the caprice of the demented man, said, in the most
enticing tone she could assume:
"You have guessed aright, oh! mortal! I am, indeed, Juno, the Queen of
the goddesses of Mount Olympus! By the direct command of Jupiter I have
sought you out this night!"
She came closer to him and took his hand. He raised hers to his lips and
devotedly kissed it. Then he gazed into her eyes like one entranced.
Woman's wit and tenderness had triumphed. The maniac whom even the
mention of Zuleika's name had failed to touch was completely under Mme.
Morrel's influence. She had subdued him; she could do with him as she
wished.
"A miracle! a miracle!" cried both the cicerones simultaneously. "The
Blessed Virgin be praised!"
Maximilian was not less astonished than the guides, but with his
astonishment joy and gratitude were mingled--joy that Giovanni was now
tractable and gratitude to his noble and fearless wife who had effected
the wondrous transformation. He said to himself that Valentine was,
indeed, an enchantress, but a modern Circe, who, unlike her ancient
prototype, employed her spells and fascinations to promote good,
results. He glanced at Valentine, with a smile of encouragement and
approbation, eagerly waiting for the next step she should take, for the
next audacious effort she should essay.
Giovanni made no reply to Valentine's fantastic speech, and, after
preserving silence for an instant, she resumed:
"I am here for your welfare, to aid you in your overwhelming
misfortunes!"
"Ah! yes; I have misfortunes, but I had forgotten them," said the young
man, musingly.
"I am sent to relieve you of them," continued Valentine. Then, throwing
into her voice its most persuasive quality, she added, fixing a magnetic
gaze upon the Viscount: "My mission is to take charge of you, to see
that you are restored to health and happiness. Come with me!"
"I will follow you, sweet vision, to the very end of the earth!" said
Giovanni, enthusiastically.
Valentine hastily beckoned to her husband; he hurried to her and she
whispered in his ear:
"Send one of the guides for a coupe. We must not lose a single moment.
Poor Massetti will follow me as a dog follows its master! While he is
under my influence it is imperative that he be removed to an asylum
where he can be properly looked after and if possible cured. No doubt
the guides can tell you of such an institution. Use the utmost dispatch,
Maximilian!"
The young soldier needed no repetition of these wise and humanitarian
injunctions. He gave the requisite directions and soon the desired
vehicle was in readiness without the Colosseum. Maximilian had also
ascertained the address of a proper curative institution.
Meanwhile Valentine had continued to employ her successful tactics with
the Viscount, who every moment yielded to her more and more. When the
coupe was announced, she said to him:
"My chariot is waiting to convey you to my Olympian abode. Will you come
with me?"
"Your wishes are my laws, oh! beautiful goddess!" replied Giovanni.
"Take me where you will, so that you do not desert me and leave me to
perish in despair!"
Mme. Morrel led the unresisting young man to the coupe, Maximilian and
the guides following the pair at a short distance in order to guard
against any unforeseen freak on the part of poor Massetti. There was no
occasion for their services, however, and the Viscount was soon safely
installed in the coupe with Valentine upon one side of him and her
husband upon the other.
After a brief drive, during which Giovanni, who seemed to have lost all
comprehension of the presence of any one save Valentine, remained
quietly gazing at her, the vehicle drew up in front of the insane
asylum.
Massetti was induced to enter the institution without the slightest
trouble. Maximilian thereupon made all the necessary arrangements, and
the young man was placed in comfortable quarters. The physician who
examined him stated that his case was not beyond hope.
CHAPTER XX.
THE ISLE OF MONTE-CRISTO.
At the appointed time the Count of Monte-Cristo and Zuleika, accompanied
by Ali, Peppino and Beppo, the two Italians attired in the traveling
garb of French servants, left Paris for Marseilles. On their arrival at
the latter city they proceeded immediately to the harbor, where
Monte-Cristo's yacht awaited them in obedience to instructions
telegraphed by the Count to the Captain of the craft, whose name was
Vincenzo, and who was a son of Jacopo, the former smuggler, long in
command of the ill-fated Alcyon, lost in the frightful storm and
volcanic disturbance in the Mediterranean some years before. The present
yacht was a new and superb vessel, as fleet and as beautiful as a bird.
It was fitted up in the most complete manner; the cabin, superbly
carpeted and furnished, was hung with elaborately wrought, costly
tapestry, while here and there on the walls were curiously arrayed
clusters of ancient barbaric weapons gathered from the site of old
Carthage, the ruins of historic Babylon and even from the crumbling
tombs of those redoubtable warriors who far back in the dim ages of
antiquity had defended distant Cathay against the incursions of the
fierce Tartar hordes. The yacht was named the Haydee in honor of the
loving and devoted Greek slave, the mother of Esperance and Zuleika, who
had filled such an important part in Monte-Cristo's life and had left
behind her such tender memories.
As soon as the Count and his little party were safely on board the craft
it set sail, gliding swiftly out upon the wide, sparkling expanse of
water. Monte-Cristo and Zuleika stood upon the deck, conversing
pleasantly and enjoying the ever-changing panorama presented to their
gaze. The Haydee glided swiftly past the Ile Ratonneau, conspicuous by
reason of its towering lighthouse; then came the Pointe des Catalans,
with its beach where Mercedes had once dwelt and where the unfortunate
sailor Dantes had seen the light in her chamber window on that memorable
night when he was being conducted to captivity. At length a black and
frowning rock rose before them, surmounted by a gloomy fortress. As he
caught sight of this dismal crag, Monte-Cristo knitted his brows and
through his clenched teeth muttered an imprecation upon the tyranny of
man.
"What is it that so moves you, father?" asked Zuleika, in a soft voice,
gazing solicitously into his face.
"Look yonder, my child," replied the Count, with strong emotion; "the
fortress upon that rock is the accursed Chateau d' If!"
Zuleika glanced at the fortress with a feeling of terror and dread. She
knew the story of her father's long imprisonment and keen suffering in
the dark dungeon of that forbidding pile, of his meetings with the Abbe
Faria there and of his subsequent daring escape; but she knew nothing of
what had passed between the Abbe and the sailor Dantes relative to the
famous treasure concealed by Cardinal Spada within the grottoes of the
Isle of Monte-Cristo, the treasure that diverted from the grasp of Pope
Alexander VI. had made the Count so enormously rich. On this topic her
father had never yet seen fit to enlighten her. The sight of the Chateau
d' If made her shudder and turn pale, though at the same time it
fascinated and enchained her. She clung closely to Monte-Cristo and
said, tremulously:
"Oh! what a frightful place it is! My very heart is chilled by its
dismal aspect!"
"Dismal as it looks from here, my child," returned the Count, "it is a
thousand times more so within! It is the chosen abode of gloom and
despair!"
He gently put his daughter from him and gave way to a profound reverie
in which he remained plunged for some moments. All the details of his
imprisonment and the startling adventures that succeeded it passed
through his mind in rapid review, and an ardent, irresistible desire to
revisit the locality where he had unearthed Spada's millions took entire
possession of him. Suddenly he said to Captain Vincenzo:
"Make for the Isle of Monte-Cristo!"
"Aye, aye, Signor Count," answered the Captain, and the necessary orders
were at once given. The Haydee, promptly obeying her helm, swung about
swiftly and gracefully, instantly darting off in the direction of the
famous island.
Zuleika, on hearing her father's command, cast upon him a look of
astonishment and anxiety. She had expected that they would proceed
directly to Italy and this change in the yacht's course betokened
another programme.
"My child," said the Count, divining her thoughts, "I propose to stop at
the Isle of Monte-Cristo only a few hours; the delay will not be
important, especially as we can make up the time lost by crowding sail,
while I wish to show you some spots intimately connected with my history
that will interest you."
"I shall be delighted to visit the Isle of Monte-Cristo, father,"
replied Zuleika. "I have heard so much about it and its wonders. You
have a mansion there, have you not?"
The Count smiled, as he answered:
"Not exactly a mansion, Zuleika, but something that might be made to
serve as a substitute for one did we need a temporary refuge, though I
greatly fear that from long neglect we shall find it at present in a
most deplorable condition."
Zuleika's curiosity was now considerably excited. What could this
mysterious residence, or, as her father quaintly styled it, this
substitute for a mansion be like? What knowledge she possessed of the
Isle of Monte-Cristo had been derived from fragmentary recitals made to
her by Mercedes and her son Albert de Morcerf, but as neither of these
informants had ever set foot upon the island their information was
necessarily very vague, though it made up in the marvellous what it
lacked in distinctness.
At length, towards afternoon, the rocky shore of the Isle of
Monte-Cristo became visible. The Count's visage brightened as he saw it
and a thrill of pleasure passed through him. Though the Haydee was yet
at a considerable distance he could plainly descry the lofty peak upon
which he had stood and watched the smugglers depart in their tartane, La
Jeune Amelie, on that eventful morning when, with his gun and pickaxe,