oceed."

"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."

"Esperance 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 Esperance'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. Dantes, 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. Dantes, coldly. "I must have proof to support