The Son of Monte-Cristo Volume I Part 29

"What! La Luciola disdains our advances, and falls in love with this Neapolitan! That is treason."

"Then your excellency--"

"I give you _carte blanche_; bring Aslitta to the citadel, but not before the close of the performance; I wish to hear the opera to the end."

The adjutant tore a piece of paper from a note-book, wrote a few lines upon it and gave it to San Pietro. The count gave a diabolical laugh.

His course was easy now.

As much as San Pietro had tried, he could not remember whom La Luciola looked like. Thanks to his wound, a blank had occurred in his memory, and certain episodes of his former life were covered with a heavy veil.

As he now threw a glance at the opposite box, a part of this veil was torn asunder, and like a dazed person he looked at the gentleman dressed in black. The latter transfixed him likewise. Instinctively the count coughed and hid his face in his handkerchief. He could not meet the gaze of those coal-black eyes.

"No, no," he muttered, anxiously. "No one knows my former name; I would be a fool to get frightened."

As soon as the first act was over, San Pietro turned to an officer and said:

"Do you know the gentleman sitting in the opposite box?"

"Not personally, but from reputation. He is said to be enormously rich."

"What is his name?"

"The Count of Monte-Cristo; his wife, who is sitting next to him, is wonderfully handsome; they say she is a Greek. The pretty boy is their son."

"Thanks," said San Pietro; and then he muttered to himself: "'Tis he; he has a son! This time he will not escape me."

"Do you know the count's political opinions?" said San Pietro, after a pause.

"I only know that immediately after the gentleman's arrival from Naples he sent his negro with his card to Radetzky, asking the marshal to allow him to pay his respects to him."

"That is decisive."

The opera had in the meantime been proceeded with; when the third act began a messenger appeared with an order which called the adjutant to the marshal's house. What could the officers do? The service went before everything else, and they disappeared just as La Luciola, Ruinta, and Signor Tino were singing a beautiful trio.

At length the last scene came; the rose, the proud queen of flowers, a.s.sented to the marriage of the pink and the daisy, and a bower of green vines was raised before an altar constructed of evergreens.

Red, white and green! The national colors!

At this moment Monte-Cristo arose and gave the signal. Immediately every one rose and clapped their hands, and he joyously exclaimed:

"Long live Italy! Long live the national flag!"

And then a loud voice thundered above the tumult:

"_Fuori i barbari!_ Away with the foreigners!"

The next minute the students climbed on to the stage and divided the palms. A roar of a thousand voices was heard singing the national hymn:

_"Chi per la patria muore_ _Vessuto ha a.s.sai!"_

La Luciola was carried in triumph to her coach by the students; the enthusiastic young men took the horses out of the traces and bore the carriage along themselves, shouting through the night air:

"Long live La Luciola! Long live Italy!"

CHAPTER XXIV

A FIGHT IN THE STREETS

When the Major von Kirchstein and his comrades, attracted by the noise, rushed out into the street, they saw La Luciola's carriage covered with flags bearing the national colors; the diva and her friend were seated therein, and La Luciola enthusiastically cried:

"Oh, Milla, Milla, this is great and sublime!"

"Comrades!" shouted the major in a rage, "follow me. We will capture La Luciola, and bring her to the citadel!"

Loud applause greeted the major's words, but before he had reached the coach a hand grasped him by the throat, and a hoa.r.s.e voice cried in his ear:

"If you touch a hair of La Luciola's head, you are a dead man."

It was Aslitta. Our readers have already guessed that the marquis was playing the part of a Brutus, and La Luciola, who loved him dearly, supported him in his plans. The two fiery natures had become acquainted at Naples. Luciola's friend, the gentle Milla, had written the mysterious libretto and Aslitta had sent it to Ticellini. Edmond Dantes had kept the oath he made upon Monte-Cristo, to be the warm friend of the oppressed. He was an admirer of Aslitta, and placed himself at his service and the cause he represented.

Up till now he had never met La Luciola, but when the diva saw at the Scala that evening the man whom her lover had talked to her about, she was seized with a deep emotion. Yes, she recognized and knew the man who took up the cause of Italy's misery, and had confidence in his ability to carry out whatever project he undertook.

As the major uttered the threat against La Luciola, Aslitta recognized the danger his love was in. He had already grasped the coach door with his hand, when he felt himself seized by strong arms and borne to the ground. A well-known voice hissed in his ear--the voice of San Pietro:

"We have got you."

A gag was inserted between Aslitta's lips, his arms and limbs were bound, and two pandours dragged him away, while the count said:

"You know the order; take good care of him! You must answer for the prisoner with your life."

One of the pandours pressed the muzzle of his gun against Aslitta's forehead and threateningly said:

"Do not stir or I will blow your brains out."

Aslitta was obliged to obey. The carriage in which he had been placed stopped, the marquis was lifted out, and the doors of a subterranean dungeon closed behind him.

CHAPTER XXV

THE MASKS FALL