atched his countenance while he read, but it was as
impassable as a countenance chiseled from marble; when he had finished
he turned to Esperance and without a word handed him the letter. For a
moment the young man trembled so he could not read; cold perspiration
stood in heavy beads upon his forehead, and vivid flashes of red passed
before his eyes like sheets of lurid lightning. What thoughts, what
suspicions, what dread shot through his tortured mind in that brief
moment, making it seem an eternity of suffering! At last, steadying and
controlling himself by a supreme effort, he read the missive from which
he had feared such terrible consequences. It was in Italian, and ran as
follows:

HIS EXCELLENCY, THE COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO: You ask me to answer
your questions, and I comply. Pasquale Solara's daughter,
Annunziata, was abducted, from her father's peasant-home by
Giovanni Massetti, known as the Viscount Massetti, who is, no
doubt, the person to whom you allude as now in Paris, for he has
disappeared from Rome. You are right in assuming that he had aid.
He was assisted by a young Frenchman, and that young Frenchman was
your son, Esperance. Annunziata suffered the usual fate of abducted
peasant girls, and was deserted by her dastardly abductor in a
fastness controlled by my band. When the abduction took place,
Annunziata's brother strove to rescue her, but was attacked and
killed by Massetti. Through my means the girl was returned to her
home, but she was miserable there and fled; she is now in an asylum
for unfortunate women founded at Civita Vecchia by the Order of
Sisters of Refuge, and superintended by a French lady, a Madame
Helena de Rancogne, who, as is said, was formerly called the
Countess of Monte-Cristo.[1] It is due to your son to say that he
was entirely misled in regard to the abduction of Annunziata
Solara, and is altogether innocent of crime or intention to commit
it. The whole burden of guilt rests upon the shoulders of the
Viscount Massetti, who, I believe, compelled your son at the
pistol's mouth to take a fearful oath of silence.
LUIGI VAMPA.

When Esperance had read this letter that so effectually cleared him, and
was such a fearful arraignment of the Viscount Massetti, he restored it
to his father and sank into his chair utterly o