CHAPTER XXV.

A VISIT TO THE REFUGE.

Among the details of the Count of Monte-Cristo's plan for the

rehabilitation of Giovanni Massetti was a visit to Annunziata Solara at

the Refuge in Civita Vecchia. This visit he made one morning in company

with Zuleika and M. and Mme. Morrel. Madame de Rancogne was delighted to

see the Count and cordially welcomed him and his party.

"So this handsome young lady is your daughter, Edmond," she said,

seating herself beside Zuleika and taking her hand. "How rapidly time

flies. To-day we are in the midst of the enjoyment of youth and

to-morrow we are the middle-aged people of our locality. Then in another

brief space we are the aged, after which comes death!"

Zuleika blushed at Helena's compliment to herself and looked at her

curiously while she delivered the closing part of her speech. But the

Countess of Monte-Cristo of the past was not of a sombre nature, and,

smiling, she added:

"The most dazzling and enchanting side to the picture of youth is love!

Has Zuleika, Count, ever experienced the tender passion? It will be

exceedingly strange if she has not."

Monte-Cristo's daughter blushed again.

The Count smiled as he replied:

"Yes, Helena, Zuleika has experienced the crowning passion of life. She

is betrothed to the Viscount Giovanni Massetti of Rome."

"What!" exclaimed Mme. de Rancogne, stricken with amazement and horror.

"That Giovanni Massetti who has been disowned and disinherited by his

father for the commission of one of the vilest and most dishonorable

crimes known to the world?"

"The same!" answered Monte-Cristo, calmly.

Mme. de Rancogne was now more astounded than ever.

"You know this man's record and yet you allow him to win your daughter!

Count, this is not like you! I cannot understand it!"

"Helena," returned Monte-Cristo, "this poor young man has been maligned,

falsely accused by persons inimical to him."

The Superior of the Order of Sisters of Refuge slowly but firmly shook

her head, looking the while at the Count and his daughter with an

expression of deep sympathy and compassion upon her noble countenance.

"You have been deceived, imposed upon, Edmond," she rejoined. "There can

be no doubt whatever as to the young man's terrible and damning guilt.

Besides, my assertion admits of immediate verification and proof.

Massetti's unfortunate victim, the beautiful peasant girl Annunziata

Solara, is now an inmate of this institution whither she dragged herself

when overcome by shame and suffering of the keenest description,

seeking to find here an asylum and a cloister where prying eyes could

not find her out and where the venomous tongue of scandal could not tear

open her wounds and set them to bleeding afresh. She is a member of our

Order, has devoted the rest of her days to the achievement of good

actions and the raising up of the fallen and betrayed of her sex.

Annunziata Solara is here, almost within sound of my voice, and will,

though with reluctance I am convinced, confirm every word I have uttered

relative to her cowardly and villainous abductor!"

"To hold an interview with this unfortunate creature is what has brought

me here with Zuleika and my friends the Morrels," said the Count. "Of

course, I wished to see you, Helena, and enjoy once again the pleasure

of your society," he added, his agreeable smile accompanying his words.

The Superior bowed gracefully and arose.

"I can understand then your anxiety to see and speak with Annunziata at

the earliest possible moment. Therefore, I will immediately summon her

to this apartment where the desired interview can take place without

delay."

As she uttered these words Mme. de Rancogne hastened from the salon,

shortly afterwards returning with the former flower-girl of the Piazza

del Popolo in Rome.

Annunziata stood for an instant in the centre of the apartment, gazing

inquiringly at the visitors, for Mme. de Rancogne had not informed her

of their business, preferring that Monte-Cristo in his wisdom and

experience should conduct the interview and develop his wishes in his

own peculiar fashion.

The Count and Maximilian gazed at old Pasquale Solara's daughter with

considerable interest, but it was an interest altogether masculine.

Valentine also looked at her attentively, with that searching,

penetrating look one woman invariably casts upon another. As for

Zuleika, her eyes literally devoured the peasant girl, flashing with

what was not exactly hatred for a rival but rather an instinctive fear

and distrust. She was well aware that Giovanni had flirted with this

girl, had been enthralled by her physical charms, had almost yielded to

her sway, and she felt a peculiar interest in the creature who had

temporarily at least stolen the heart of her lover from her.

Annunziata had been greatly benefited by her sojourn in the calm and

quiet Refuge. She had by a great and heroic exercise of her strength of

mind put aside from her all thoughts of her lamentable history, of her

suddenly clouded and terrible past. She had thoroughly abandoned herself

to the discipline and duties of the Sisters of the Order of Refuge, and

had sought with more or less success even to forget herself. Her

unruffled life, passed in the continual doing of good, filled her with

peacefulness and satisfaction, and for the first time in a long while

she fully realized what it was to be perfectly contented and happy. In

consequence her physical condition had improved, promptly responding to

her mental ease. She had recovered the beauty she had lost during her

confinement in the bandits' hut and her subsequent wanderings as a

homeless, starving outcast. Her plumpness had also returned, and her

glance had all the brightness and gayety that had formerly distinguished

it. Still a general refinement had taken possession of her, and

Annunziata was no longer the child of nature she had been when she lived

in the romantic cabin in the forest.

Madame de Rancogne was the first to speak.

"Sister Annunziata," she said, "here are his Excellency the Count of

Monte-Cristo, Zuleika his daughter, and M. and Mme. Morrel. Allow me to

make you acquainted with them and to assure you that they are true

friends of mine, firmly to be relied on. They wish to interrogate you in

regard to a certain matter. You can answer their questions without fear

and without the slightest hesitation. The Count of Monte-Cristo is the

very soul of chivalry and honor!"

The Count bowed in acknowledgment of this well-turned speech and,

addressing Annunziata, who, notwithstanding Mme. de Rancogne's

assurances, began to tremble and feel distressed, said:

"Sister Annunziata, I wish to ask you certain important questions as

your Superior has told you. I am pursuing an investigation that promises

to be fruitful in the very best results of the highest possible good.

Sister Annunziata, I wish your aid in clearing the record of an innocent

man, one who has suffered as greatly as you have and for whom you can,

therefore, feel pity and sympathy. I allude to the Viscount Giovanni

Massetti."

The girl gave a sudden start and turned ghastly pale.

"The Viscount Giovanni Massetti?" repeated she, interrogatively, half

doubting whether she could have heard the name aright.

"Yes," said Monte-Cristo, "the Viscount Giovanni Massetti, who has been

falsely accused of having abducted you!"

"Falsely accused!" cried Annunziata. "Why, Signor Count of Monte-Cristo,

the wretched young man is guilty of everything with which he has been

charged, whether the charges were made by persons inimical to him or

not!"

The visitors were still closely watching the peasant girl. They had

expected she would say exactly what she had said and, therefore, were

not in the slightest degree astonished or disconcerted. Her earnestness

and the circumstance that she certainly ought to know the identity of

her abductor were well-calculated to inspire confidence in her

statements and to induce a belief in the guilt of the young Viscount

Massetti.

Monte-Cristo answered Annunziata firmly but considerately.

"Sister," he said, "notwithstanding your belief that Massetti was your

abductor, I know the contrary to be true and have in my possession

indubitable proof of what I assert!"

Annunziata shook her head.

"The proof must, indeed, be conclusive that would shake my belief!" she

said, with a slight trace of bitterness in her tone.

"It is conclusive!"

"But if young Massetti is innocent of my abduction and of my poor

brother's murder, who then, in Heaven's name, is the guilty party?"

"Luigi Vampa!"

"Luigi Vampa?"

"Yes. He forced his way into your cabin on that eventful night, abducted

you and afterwards shot your brother Lorenzo in the forest."

"You say you have indubitable proof of this. How was it obtained?"

"From a man named Peppino, who overheard all the details of the

nefarious bargain and conspiracy entered into by the brigand chief and

old Pasquale Solara."

"Pasquale Solara? My father! Oh! Signor Count, what do you mean?"

"Be calm, my child, and listen to me. Your father despicably sold you to

Luigi Vampa for a large sum of money and they together so arranged the

abduction that all suspicion would fall with crushing force upon the

shoulders of the young Italian!"

Annunziata put her hand to her forehead and stood still, rooted to the

spot by horror and amazement. She had no great love for her moody and

morose father, who never had done anything calculated to inspire

affection for him in the bosom of his daughter, but, at the same time,

it seemed incredible and horrible to her that her parent should have

been guilty of this unnatural behavior towards her, of this unmanly

conduct with regard to an innocent guest who in all confidence was

partaking of the hospitality his roof afforded. She looked at

Monte-Cristo doubtingly and then at Mme. de Rancogne, who was smiling

upon her encouragingly.

"As God is my judge," said she, solemnly, "I believe Giovanni Massetti

to have been my abductor!"

"Of course," returned Monte-Cristo, "but you are in error!"

"I saw his face! Surely I ought to have been able to recognize that!"

"Certainly; but, I tell you, everything was so arranged as to deceive

you into believing the young Italian the criminal, the despicable wretch

who had failed to respect a woman's honor!"

"It may be as you assert, but I cannot rid myself of my firm and

deep-rooted belief in the matter. I have forgiven the Viscount Massetti

for the foul wrong he did me, but to the latest day of my earthly

existence I shall believe him guilty!"

Suddenly fixing her eyes upon Zuleika with a gaze of bewildering

intensity, Annunziata stood as if anxious to speak to her of some very

important topic.

Monte-Cristo's daughter divined this, and, going to the former

flower-girl, said to her:

"Is there anything I can do for you, Sister Annunziata? If so you have

only to ask it!"

Annunziata laid her hand upon Zuleika's shoulder, asking, in a tone that

notwithstanding all her efforts to control it was not a little unsteady

and tremulous:

"Do you love him?--do you love the Viscount Massetti?"

"Yes," answered Zuleika, lowering her eyes beneath the intensity of the

other's look.

"So I thought, but oh! daughter of a noble family, beware of the

perfidious young man! He will not hesitate to deceive you as he deceived

me! Then he will leave you to your fate as he left me to mine, and

life-long sorrow and misery will be your portion!"

Zuleika gazed pityingly at the peasant girl.

"You loved him once, did you not?" she asked.

"Perhaps I did, perhaps I did not!" replied Annunziata. "I do not know!

Certainly my heart spoke for him, but that may have been only friendly

esteem! However, after the abduction and the horrible and disgraceful

events that followed it, I grew to hate him with the bitterest

description of hate! I have told you that I have forgiven him and it was

the truth. I have forgiven and am endeavoring to forget him!"

There was a suspicious glitter in the girl's eyes as she spoke,

something that hinted of the presence of tears, but the glitter passed

away and, turning to Mme. de Rancogne, she said:

"Are your guests through with questioning me, Madame the Superior?"

Mme. de Rancogne glanced inquiringly at Monte-Cristo, who nodded his

head affirmatively.

"The interview is concluded," replied Helena, "and now, if you so

desire, you can return to your apartment."

Annunziata, more affected and agitated by what she had just passed

through than she cared to admit, bowed to the visitors and the Superior

and hastily quitted the salon.

"Poor girl! she remains perfectly unconvinced!" said Monte-Cristo, after

her departure.

"And she is right!" rejoined Mme. de Rancogne, warmly. "I have heard all

the details of her story and the chain of evidence against the Viscount

Giovanni Massetti is altogether complete. To doubt his guilt would be

sheer idiocy!"

After a sojourn of a few hours longer at the Refuge, Monte-Cristo and

his party returned to Rome to go actively to work in Massetti's cause.