Monte-Cristo was astounded when he saw Luigi Vampa arrested by the Roman policeman and his squad; his first thought was that Peppino, unwilling to let slip so fair an opportunity to obtain vengeance, had betrayed the brigand chief to the authorities; this idea was apparently confirmed by the part the two ex-bandits had taken in their former leader's capture; hence after the officers and their prisoner had departed, he turned fiercely upon Peppino and said, in a tone of anger: "This is fine work for one of my servants to do, especially one so trusted as you!"

"Signor Count," answered Peppino, humbly, "you are mistaken. I had no hand in it whatever save obeying the order of the officer in command of the police."

"Indeed!" cried the Count, incredulously.

"Yes," continued Peppino, in the same humble voice, "and Beppo here is equally innocent. The officer tracked Vampa to the hôtel and was informed that I had conducted him into your presence. He thereupon sent for me, directing me without further ado to take Beppo, who chanced to be in my company, and seize the chief, who was personally unknown to him, the instant he quitted your salon. I trust your Excellency will pardon us, as we could do nothing but obey."

"In that case," said Monte-Cristo, "no blame attaches to either of you, but, nevertheless, Vampa's arrest at this critical juncture will seriously interfere with my projected operations."

The police had conducted matters very quietly; still, the tramp of many feet in the corridor had awakened the Viscount and filled him with terror. Knowing the unparalleled audacity of the bandits, he at once jumped to the conclusion that a body of them had entered Rome and taken possession of the Hôtel de France with the object of seizing upon him as the murderer of old Pasquale Solara, who, he did not doubt, was dead. When the tramping feet, which the Count and Vampa were too much engrossed to hear, paused in front of his very door he became fixed in this conclusion and sprang from his bed in wild alarm. He looked hastily around him for some avenue of escape, but there was none. If the brigands were without he was trapped and would speedily be in their hands. He listened with the utmost anxiety, expecting every instant that his door would be forced and his relentless foes come thronging into the chamber. No such movement, however, was made. A deathlike silence prevailed. What was the meaning of all this? What was taking place or about to occur? If the men in the corridor were not Luigi Vampa's bandits, who were they? The Viscount lost himself in a bewildering maze of conjectures. Make a personal examination and satisfy himself he dare not. In the midst of his conjectures he heard a door open directly across the corridor and knew it was Monte-Cristo's. Then a voice of stern command broke the silence, but what was uttered he could not distinguish, though he fancied he made out the ominous word "arrest," which was almost immediately succeeded by a renewal of the tramping of feet. This sound speedily died away and silence again prevailed. Young Massetti was more perplexed than ever. He could make nothing out of the knotty problem presented to him for solution. Suddenly a thought struck him that brought beads of cold perspiration out upon his forehead. Monte-Cristo had been arrested and carried off to a Roman prison! Then he heard the Count's well-known voice angrily addressing some one and this alarming thought vanished as quickly as it had come to him. The party arrested, if an arrest had been made, was, therefore, not Monte-Cristo but some one else, some one who had come from the Count's salon. Who could it possibly be? Maximilian Morrel? No, the idea was absurd, for what had the young Frenchman done to provoke arrest? Finally, unable longer to endure the uncertainty and suspense, the Viscount cautiously opened his door and glanced out into the corridor. His eyes rested upon Monte-Cristo, Peppino and Beppo. The former saw him and at once came to him.




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