For a moment the two young men stood silent and astounded. So sudden had been the change from imminent peril to safety that they could hardly comprehend it. Luigi Vampa had come and gone like a flash, and both bandits and danger had been dispelled by the wonderful magic of Monte-Cristo's name. The brigand chief had styled Giovanni and Espérance his friends, and as such they knew the entire country in the vicinity of Rome was free to them; they could travel it by day or by night without fear of molestation. Espérance cared little for this, but Giovanni was elated by it, for it would enable him to seek out Annunziata Solara without risk of interruption or impediment. But what was the Count of Monte-Cristo's mysterious power? That was a question difficult, indeed, to answer. At any rate, even the fierce Luigi Vampa bowed to it, and it was as undisputed as it was strange.

The Viscount Massetti was the first to realize the necessity of a rapid push for Rome. He was faint from loss of blood and excitement; besides, his shattered arm throbbed violently and gave him twinges of excruciating pain. He felt himself sinking and urged his friend to hasten. Espérance acquiesced, and, supporting the young Italian as best he could, they resumed the homeward journey. Scarcely a mile had been traversed, however, when Giovanni threw himself upon the sward at the foot of a great tree, declaring that it was altogether impossible for him to advance another step. The throbbing in his arm had become unbearable, taking his breath away and filling him with a sickening sensation.

They were yet far from Rome, and not a sign of a habitation could be discerned in any direction. Waiting for daylight to come was not to be thought of; it would be some hours before dawn, and even when the sun had arisen it was by no means certain that assistance would be procurable. Meanwhile Giovanni would suffer torments, to say nothing of the danger of being exposed in his condition to the influence of the malaria from the surrounding marshes.

Espérance, though unwilling to leave his friend's side for an instant, decided at last that it was imperative for him to go in search of succor. Meanwhile a raging fever had set in and Giovanni was rapidly growing worse. As the son of Monte-Cristo was about to start on his tour of investigation, he heard a man's voice singing at some distance away, but gradually coming nearer. The sound was cheery and reassuring, for certainly the man who could sing so sweetly and joyously must have a good, kind heart. As the man approached Espérance recognized his song--it was that beautiful and expressive serenade, "Cara Nina," a melody dear to all youthful Italian lovers whether humble or of high degree.




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