Monte-Cristo's Daughter
stone, she thrust the former into the bosom of her dress. Then she
glanced around her, half-fearing she had been seen by some of the pupils
or the watchful Sister Agatha. But no, she was unobserved, and even now
her companions and the nun were at such a distance that she could read
her letter without the slightest danger of being discovered or
interrupted. The temptation was strong. She yielded to it. She would
read the letter. She felt convinced that it was from the Viscount
Massetti, and the conviction filled her with unutterable joy. She had
not heard a word concerning him since she had been immured within the
sombre walls of that dismal convent, and now she had tidings of him in
his own handwriting! It was rapture! What had he written to her? An
assurance of his love, no doubt, and, perhaps, an exhortation to her to
keep her part of their agreement--to love no other man, to encourage no
other suitor! Surely she loved no one else--she never could love any one
but Giovanni Massetti, for did he not possess her whole heart, all the
wealth of her ardent youthful affection?
She kissed the envelope, then opened it, took out the letter, which was
written in pencil, and read:
DEAREST ZULEIKA: I can keep from you no longer. I must see you once
more and again call you my own. I strove to attract your attention
just now in the chestnut tree outside the wall. I uttered your
beloved name, but you did not seem to understand me. This evening
at twilight I will scale the wall. At that time be at the elm where
you now stand and I will meet you there. Do not fail me, and, above
all, do not be afraid. I assure you that no harm can possibly
befall either of us. Meet me, darling.
Your own,
GIOVANNI.
Zuleika stood staring at this passionate note with sensations made up
of amazement, rapture and dismay. Giovanni, her lover, was coming. He
would stand there, on that very spot, and she would see him in all the
glory of his youthful manhood, with the radiant love-light in his eyes.
But how if he were discovered? What then would become of him and of her?
She shuddered at the possibilities of danger. But on one point she was
resolved--she would meet him let the danger be what it might. How
Giovanni would manage to avoid observation she did not know, but she
would trust to his judgment and discretion.
She glanced in the direction of the pupils and Sister Agatha. They were
coming slowly towards her. Again secreting her lover's epistle in her
bosom, she went to meet them.
CHAPTER III.
THE INTRUDER IN THE CONVENT GARDEN.
As the hour for the evening promenade drew near, Zuleika became
painfully excited, and uneasy. She longed with all her heart to see
Giovanni Massetti again, to hear the ardent words of love he would be
sure to utter, but would she be doing right to meet him clandestinely
and alone? Her mind misgave her. Of course she could trust her young
Italian lover, for he was the very soul of chivalry and honor. But did
others know this? How would her conduct be judged should the other
pupils and Sister Agatha steal upon them unawares? Giovanni might escape
without recognition, but with her it would be altogether different. She
could escape only by coining an ingenious lie, and at that her whole
nature revolted. She could not stoop to an innocent deception, much less
to an absolute falsehood. Why had Giovanni tempted her? Why had he
sought to place her in a situation he must know would be perilous? There
was but one answer--because of his love--and that answer was sufficient
to induce her to take the risk, however great it might be. Yes, she
would meet him at the appointed time and spot.
At length the bell rang for the promenade, and Sister Agatha headed the
little procession for the garden. For a brief space Zuleika lingered
with her companions among the shady walks and gorgeous flowers, but at
the first opportunity stole away and sought the leafy elm, beneath the
friendly boughs of which she was to receive the welcome yet dreaded
visit from the Viscount Massetti. She gained the rendezvous unobserved,
with loudly beating heart. The young Italian was not there. She searched
eagerly but vainly for him in the gathering twilight. What had happened
to prevent his coming? She was on thorns of anxiety. Perhaps he had
attempted to scale the wall and had fallen, sustaining some severe
injury! Perhaps even then, while she was waiting for him, he was lying
outside the wall, bruised and bleeding! But what could she do? Only
wait, wait, with torturing thoughts seething in her troubled brain.
She listened intently. Not a sound. If Giovanni were wounded, disabled,
he was maintaining a most heroic silence. She drew a magnificent gold
watch, the exquisite case of which was thickly incrusted with diamonds,
from her belt and glanced at the dial. It was after seven o'clock, and
by eight all the scholars were required to be safely housed within the
convent. Besides, she was not sure that she would not be missed,
searched for and found. What should she do, what course should she take?
As she was debating within herself, uncertain whether to remain or
return, there was a rustle amid the foliage of the chestnut tree
immediately outside the garden enclosure, and a man's form swung from
one of the branches to the top of the wall. Zuleika's emotion well-nigh
overcame her. She had recognized Giovanni. In another instant he had
leaped from the wall to the ground and was at her side. He stretched out
his arms to her and the girl, all of a tremble, impetuously cast herself
into them.
"Oh! Giovanni!" she murmured. "At last. I feared some terrible accident
had befallen you."
"I am safe, darling Zuleika," answered the young Italian, folding her in
a close embrace and showering ardent kisses upon her forehead and lips.
"But you, dearest, you are well? You have not forgotten me, have not
ceased to love me?"
"Forgotten you, ceased to love you, Giovanni!" whispered the quivering
girl, in a tone of slight reproach, gazing fondly into his eyes. "Have I
not given you my solemn promise to love you only?"
"Forgive me, my own!" cried the youthful Viscount. "What is a lover
without fears and doubts? They are the proof of the strength of his
adoration!"
They seated themselves at the foot of the branching elm, the friendly
shelter of which shut them in. Then Zuleika said, with apprehension in
her voice:
"Why did you come here, Giovanni? Are you not aware that you are running
a great risk and putting me in peril? If we are found together, you will
be ignominiously expelled and I severely punished. Besides, think of the
disgrace for us both in such an event! The matter will get abroad,
furnish food for gossip and certainly reach the ears of my father and
brother, whose displeasure I dread more than all else! Think, too, that
Esperance will call you to account for your conduct, and I could never
bear a quarrel between you and him in which, perhaps, blood might be
shed!"
"Never fear, Zuleika," replied Massetti, gallantly. "Should we be
discovered I will shield you. As to your father and brother, they cannot
be displeased, for I will explain all to them and end by demanding you
in marriage. Why have I come here? Simply because I could hold aloof
from you no longer. I felt that I must see you, speak with you, renew my
vows of love. Oh! Zuleika, the world is all dark to me without your
smile!"
"But you promised me to wait!"
"I know it; but I miscalculated my strength when I made that promise.
Could I see you I might be patient; but to wait for weeks and weeks
without even a glimpse of your dear face, without once hearing the sound
of your beloved voice, is utterly beyond me. I cannot do it!"
"You must. Nothing else can be done. My father wishes me to remain at
the convent school for a year, and the rules positively prohibit your
visits. Be patient yet awhile, Giovanni. We both are very young and have
a life of happiness to look forward to. Besides, we can see each other
at the Palazzo Costi during vacation, and that is something."
"It is nothing to a man who wishes to see you constantly, to be always
with you. Oh! Zuleika, I cannot bear our separation, I cannot do without
you!"
The young man had risen to his feet and uttered these words loudly,
recklessly. Zuleika sprang up and caught him by the arm, her face white
with terror.
"Control yourself, Giovanni, control yourself!" she whispered, in a
frightened tone. "Speak lower, with more caution, or other ears than
mine will hear you!"
But the Viscount did not heed her. He was fearfully agitated and his
entire frame shook with excitement and emotion.
"Fly with me, Zuleika, fly with me now, this very moment, and be my
wife!" he exclaimed, in a voice so strangely altered that Monte-Cristo's
daughter scarcely recognized it. "I am rich, and my family has wealth
and power sufficient to protect us against everything and everybody,
even your father, with all his untold gold and influence! The Count of
Monte-Cristo seeks to part us; that is the reason he has sent you here,
to this convent, where you are little less than a prisoner!"
He caught her wildly in his arms and held her against his breast as if
defying fate. Zuleika, more terrified than ever, struggled in his
embrace and finally released herself. She faced Giovanni, and said,
warmly:
"You do my father injustice. He does not seek to part us. He esteems you
greatly, Viscount Massetti, loves you for the service you rendered me,
his daughter, and will reward that service with the highest recompense
in his power to bestow--my hand. But he considers me a child as yet,
wishes me to have education and experience before I marry, that I may
be a wife worth having and not a mere useless doll. Respect his wishes,
Giovanni, respect him. He is a good, kind-hearted man, and will do
right. His wisdom has been shown too often for me to doubt it!"
"His wisdom!" cried Massetti, bitterly. "Yes, he is wise, too wise to
bestow your hand upon me, a mere Viscount! What is my family in his
eyes? Nothing. What is my wealth? An utter trifle compared to his. I
tell you, Zuleika, he does not wish us to marry. He designs you for some
high potentate with riches to match the princely marriage-portion you
will have!"
"No, no!" cried the girl. "You are despondent, and in your despondency
misjudge him. He cares nothing for wealth or exalted station, but values
a good name and an unstained reputation above all else."
"But will you not be mine, will you not fly with me from this wretched
prison, in which I can see you only by stealth and like a criminal?"
The Italian's eyes sparkled in the twilight and his voice was full of
eloquent persuasion. He fell upon his knees at Zuleika's feet, and,
seizing her hand, kissed it passionately again and again. The trembling
young girl was deeply touched by his love and entreaties. For a moment
she wavered, but for a moment only; then reason asserted its sway and
cooler reflection came to her aid.
"Rise, Giovanni," she said, with comparative calmness, "rise and be a
man. This proposition is altogether unworthy of you, and, should I
accept it, we would both be disgraced. I am yours, my heart is in your
keeping, and I will be your wife at the proper time with my father's
full consent. But I cannot fly with you, I will not!"
The young man sprang to his feet as if an electric bat had struck him.
"You have no confidence in me, then!" he cried, impulsively. "You do not
love me!"
"Do not love you!" exclaimed the girl, winding her shapely arms about
his neck, as her lovely head sank upon his bosom. "I love you with all