The Count of Monte Cristo
“‘That is your road, excellency, and now you cannot again mistake.’
“‘And here is your recompense,’ said the traveller, offering the young
herdsman some small pieces of money.
“‘Thank you,’ said Luigi, drawing back his hand; ‘I render a service, I
do not sell it.’
“‘Well,’ replied the traveller, who seemed used to this difference
between the servility of a man of the cities and the pride of the
mountaineer, ‘if you refuse wages, you will, perhaps, accept a gift.’
“‘Ah, yes, that is another thing.’
“‘Then,’ said the traveller, ‘take these two Venetian sequins and give
them to your bride, to make herself a pair of earrings.’
“‘And then do you take this poniard,’ said the young herdsman; ‘you
will not find one better carved between Albano and Civita-Castellana.’
“‘I accept it,’ answered the traveller, ‘but then the obligation will
be on my side, for this poniard is worth more than two sequins.’
“‘For a dealer perhaps; but for me, who engraved it myself, it is
hardly worth a piastre.’
“‘What is your name?’ inquired the traveller.
“‘Luigi Vampa,’ replied the shepherd, with the same air as he would
have replied, Alexander, King of Macedon. ‘And yours?’
“‘I,’ said the traveller, ‘am called Sinbad the Sailor.’”
Franz d’Épinay started with surprise.
“Sinbad the Sailor?” he said.
“Yes,” replied the narrator; “that was the name which the traveller
gave to Vampa as his own.”
“Well, and what may you have to say against this name?” inquired
Albert; “it is a very pretty name, and the adventures of the gentleman
of that name amused me very much in my youth, I must confess.”
Franz said no more. The name of Sinbad the Sailor, as may well be
supposed, awakened in him a world of recollections, as had the name of
the Count of Monte Cristo on the previous evening.
“Proceed!” said he to the host.
“Vampa put the two sequins haughtily into his pocket, and slowly
returned by the way he had gone. As he came within two or three hundred
paces of the grotto, he thought he heard a cry. He listened to know
whence this sound could proceed. A moment afterwards he thought he
heard his own name pronounced distinctly.
“The cry proceeded from the grotto. He bounded like a chamois, cocking
his carbine as he went, and in a moment reached the summit of a hill
opposite to that on which he had perceived the traveller. Three cries
for help came more distinctly to his ear. He cast his eyes around him
and saw a man carrying off Teresa, as Nessus, the centaur, carried
Deianira.
“This man, who was hastening towards the wood, was already
three-quarters of the way on the road from the grotto to the forest.
Vampa measured the distance; the man was at least two hundred paces in
advance of him, and there was not a chance of overtaking him. The young
shepherd stopped, as if his feet had been rooted to the ground; then he
put the butt of his carbine to his shoulder, took aim at the ravisher,
followed him for a second in his track, and then fired.
“The ravisher stopped suddenly, his knees bent under him, and he fell
with Teresa in his arms. The young girl rose instantly, but the man lay
on the earth struggling in the agonies of death. Vampa then rushed
towards Teresa; for at ten paces from the dying man her legs had failed
her, and she had dropped on her knees, so that the young man feared
that the ball that had brought down his enemy, had also wounded his
betrothed.
“Fortunately, she was unscathed, and it was fright alone that had
overcome Teresa. When Luigi had assured himself that she was safe and
unharmed, he turned towards the wounded man. He had just expired, with
clenched hands, his mouth in a spasm of agony, and his hair on end in
the sweat of death. His eyes remained open and menacing. Vampa
approached the corpse, and recognized Cucumetto.
“From the day on which the bandit had been saved by the two young
peasants, he had been enamoured of Teresa, and had sworn she should be
his. From that time he had watched them, and profiting by the moment
when her lover had left her alone, had carried her off, and believed he
at length had her in his power, when the ball, directed by the unerring
skill of the young herdsman, had pierced his heart. Vampa gazed on him
for a moment without betraying the slightest emotion; while, on the
contrary, Teresa, shuddering in every limb, dared not approach the
slain ruffian but by degrees, and threw a hesitating glance at the dead
body over the shoulder of her lover. Suddenly Vampa turned toward his
mistress:
“‘Ah,’ said he—‘good, good! You are dressed; it is now my turn to dress
myself.’
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“Teresa was clothed from head to foot in the garb of the Count of
San-Felice’s daughter. Vampa took Cucumetto’s body in his arms and
conveyed it to the grotto, while in her turn Teresa remained outside.
If a second traveller had passed, he would have seen a strange thing,—a
shepherdess watching her flock, clad in a cashmere grown, with
ear-rings and necklace of pearls, diamond pins, and buttons of
sapphires, emeralds, and rubies. He would, no doubt, have believed that
he had returned to the times of Florian, and would have declared, on
reaching Paris, that he had met an Alpine shepherdess seated at the
foot of the Sabine Hill.
“At the end of a quarter of an hour Vampa quitted the grotto; his
costume was no less elegant than that of Teresa. He wore a vest of
garnet-colored velvet, with buttons of cut gold; a silk waistcoat
covered with embroidery; a Roman scarf tied round his neck; a
cartridge-box worked with gold, and red and green silk; sky-blue velvet
breeches, fastened above the knee with diamond buckles; garters of
deerskin, worked with a thousand arabesques, and a hat whereon hung
ribbons of all colors; two watches hung from his girdle, and a splendid
poniard was in his belt.
“Teresa uttered a cry of admiration. Vampa in this attire resembled a
painting by Léopold Robert or Schnetz. He had assumed the entire
costume of Cucumetto. The young man saw the effect produced on his
betrothed, and a smile of pride passed over his lips.
“‘Now,’ he said to Teresa, ‘are you ready to share my fortune, whatever
it may be?’
“‘Oh, yes!’ exclaimed the young girl enthusiastically.
“‘And follow me wherever I go?’
“‘To the world’s end.’
“‘Then take my arm, and let us on; we have no time to lose.’
“The young girl did so without questioning her lover as to where he was
conducting her, for he appeared to her at this moment as handsome,
proud, and powerful as a god. They went towards the forest, and soon
entered it.
“We need scarcely say that all the paths of the mountain were known to
Vampa; he therefore went forward without a moment’s hesitation,
although there was no beaten track, but he knew his path by looking at
the trees and bushes, and thus they kept on advancing for nearly an
hour and a half. At the end of this time they had reached the thickest
part of the forest. A torrent, whose bed was dry, led into a deep
gorge. Vampa took this wild road, which, enclosed between two ridges,
and shadowed by the tufted umbrage of the pines, seemed, but for the
difficulties of its descent, that path to Avernus of which Virgil
speaks. Teresa had become alarmed at the wild and deserted look of the
plain around her, and pressed closely against her guide, not uttering a
syllable; but as she saw him advance with even step and composed
countenance, she endeavored to repress her emotion.
“Suddenly, about ten paces from them, a man advanced from behind a tree
and aimed at Vampa.
“‘Not another step,’ he said, ‘or you are a dead man.’
“‘What, then,’ said Vampa, raising his hand with a gesture of disdain,
while Teresa, no longer able to restrain her alarm, clung closely to
him, ‘do wolves rend each other?’
“‘Who are you?’ inquired the sentinel.
“‘I am Luigi Vampa, shepherd of the San-Felice farm.’
“‘What do you want?’
“‘I would speak with your companions who are in the glade at Rocca
Bianca.’
“‘Follow me, then,’ said the sentinel; ‘or, as you know your way, go
first.’
“Vampa smiled disdainfully at this precaution on the part of the
bandit, went before Teresa, and continued to advance with the same firm
and easy step as before. At the end of ten minutes the bandit made them
a sign to stop. The two young persons obeyed. Then the bandit thrice
imitated the cry of a crow; a croak answered this signal.
“‘Good!’ said the sentry, ‘you may now go on.’
“Luigi and Teresa again set forward; as they went on Teresa clung
tremblingly to her lover at the sight of weapons and the glistening of
carbines through the trees. The retreat of Rocca Bianca was at the top
of a small mountain, which no doubt in former days had been a
volcano—an extinct volcano before the days when Remus and Romulus had
deserted Alba to come and found the city of Rome.
“Teresa and Luigi reached the summit, and all at once found themselves
in the presence of twenty bandits.
“‘Here is a young man who seeks and wishes to speak to you,’ said the
sentinel.
“‘What has he to say?’ inquired the young man who was in command in the
chief’s absence.
“‘I wish to say that I am tired of a shepherd’s life,’ was Vampa’s
reply.
“‘Ah, I understand,’ said the lieutenant; ‘and you seek admittance into
our ranks?’
“‘Welcome!’ cried several bandits from Ferrusino, Pampinara, and
Anagni, who had recognized Luigi Vampa.
“‘Yes, but I came to ask something more than to be your companion.’
“‘And what may that be?’ inquired the bandits with astonishment.
“‘I come to ask to be your captain,’ said the young man.
“The bandits shouted with laughter.
“‘And what have you done to aspire to this honor?’ demanded the
lieutenant.
“‘I have killed your chief, Cucumetto, whose dress I now wear; and I
set fire to the villa San-Felice to procure a wedding-dress for my
betrothed.’
“An hour afterwards Luigi Vampa was chosen captain, vice Cucumetto,
deceased.”
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“Well, my dear Albert,” said Franz, turning towards his friend; “what
think you of citizen Luigi Vampa?”
“I say he is a myth,” replied Albert, “and never had an existence.”
“And what may a myth be?” inquired Pastrini.
“The explanation would be too long, my dear landlord,” replied Franz.
“And you say that Signor Vampa exercises his profession at this moment
in the environs of Rome?”
“And with a boldness of which no bandit before him ever gave an
example.”
“Then the police have vainly tried to lay hands on him?”
“Why, you see, he has a good understanding with the shepherds in the
plains, the fishermen of the Tiber, and the smugglers of the coast.
They seek for him in the mountains, and he is on the waters; they
follow him on the waters, and he is on the open sea; then they pursue
him, and he has suddenly taken refuge in the islands, at Giglio,
Giannutri, or Monte Cristo; and when they hunt for him there, he
reappears suddenly at Albano, Tivoli, or La Riccia.”
“And how does he behave towards travellers?”
“Alas! his plan is very simple. It depends on the distance he may be
from the city, whether he gives eight hours, twelve hours, or a day
wherein to pay their ransom; and when that time has elapsed he allows
another hour’s grace. At the sixtieth minute of this hour, if the money
is not forthcoming, he blows out the prisoner’s brains with a
pistol-shot, or plants his dagger in his heart, and that settles the
account.”
“Well, Albert,” inquired Franz of his companion, “are you still
disposed to go to the Colosseum by the outer wall?”
“Quite so,” said Albert, “if the way be picturesque.”
The clock struck nine as the door opened, and a coachman appeared.
“Excellencies,” said he, “the coach is ready.”
“Well, then,” said Franz, “let us to the Colosseum.”