"You don't disturb me in the least. Pray proceed."
"You remember your conversation with my daughter just before you and she parted, do you not?"
"I remember it," replied the Viscount, coloring slightly and evidently growing ill at ease.
"In that case, neither preface nor explanation is necessary. I called to ask you a few plain questions."
The Italian was now a prey to singular excitement; he grew pale and flushed by turns, finally rising and pacing the salon in great agitation.
"Count," said he, abruptly, when he could command his voice, "you are a man of the world and a cosmopolitan, and, of course, you know that one often commits folly, especially when the ardent and uncontrollable blood of youth is rushing through his veins. With this explanation, imperfect though it be, I must ask you to rest satisfied, for it is utterly out of my power to give you any other, or to enter into the details of the unfortunate affair which has brought you here. I assure you, however, that I am altogether blameless in the matter; investigation will abundantly establish the truth of what I say."
"I will make that investigation."
"I regret that I can neither empower you to do so nor aid you in it!"
"What am I to understand by that?"
"Simply what I say."
"You are, doubtless, aware that my son makes grave accusations against you, that he accuses you, in fact, of a dastardly crime."
"Espérance is mistaken, my dear Count; I swear to you that he is mistaken and that I am as innocent as he is!"
"But Luigi Vampa may have a different tale to tell!"
"Luigi Vampa!" cried the Viscount, coming instantly to a dead halt, and a sudden pallor overspreading his entire visage.
"Yes, Luigi Vampa; I have written to him and in two weeks will have his answer!"
"For Espérance's sake, for my sake, for your daughter's sake, destroy that answer as soon as received and without reading it!" exclaimed the young Italian, wildly, his pallor increasing to such a degree that his face resembled that of a corpse.
"Should I be mad enough to do so," said M. Dantès, calmly, "with it all hope of your marriage with Zuleika would perish!"
"Oh! do not say that, do not say that!" groaned Massetti. "What would life be worth to me without Zuleika's love!"
"Then deserve that love by clearing yourself, by proving that your record will bear the light of day!"
"I have sworn to you that I am innocent! Is not that enough?"
"No," replied M. Dantès, coldly. "I must have proof to support your oath."