The Son of Monte-Cristo Volume I Part 33

"And if the worst should come!" said one, courageously, "I would rather die than hesitate any longer. To arms!"

"To arms, then!" repeated the Marquis of Sante-Croce, solemnly, "and may G.o.d be with us!"

"But where is Aslitta? He must lead us," some cried.

La Luciola advanced.

"The patriot Aslitta has been imprisoned," she sorrowfully said; "he is lying in the citadel."

A cry of rage arose.

"Let us rescue him," came from all sides. "Let us storm the citadel before they murder him."

"Yes, let us rescue him," said Monte-Cristo. "Let the fight begin to-morrow! To arms in the name of humanity and freedom!"

Suddenly a man arose from the crowd, who had heretofore remained silent, and casting a look at the count, he slowly said:

"We hardly know you. What guarantee will you give us that you won't betray us?"

"The man is right," the count replied. "Sante-Croce, here is my own child. Take Spero with you. Let him vouch for his father with his head!"

Sante-Croce refused to accept the guarantee, but Monte-Cristo was firm.

The boy, with proudly uplifted head, strode toward the old man and said:

"I shall accompany you. My father has taught me to do my duty."

With enthusiastic cries the patriots crowded about the handsome lad, and Monte-Cristo felt his heart throb with joy as he looked at Spero.

"And I, too, will accompany you!" exclaimed La Luciola. "Italy must be freed, and Aslitta rescued."

CHAPTER XXIX

FATHER AND SON

Benedetto, who had been pushed into the open sea in a frail bark by the Count of Monte-Cristo, had been miraculously rescued by some fishermen, and when the murderer recovered consciousness his first glance fell on the box which stood near his bed. The contents were undisturbed, the poor fishermen had not thought of opening the box which the Count of Monte-Cristo had closed again, and thus the world stood open to the wretch.

His viperous instincts had not deserted him. One evening as Benedetto lay faint and weak on the straw, he heard low murmurs of conversation in the neighboring room. He discovered that his benefactors belonged to a patriotic league similar to the Carbonari, whose object was to free Italy. On this particular evening they were discussing the question of s.h.i.+pping arms and ammunition to their countrymen.

The next day Benedetto, with tears in his eyes, told them that he had to depart at once, as he was expected at Lucca by a friend of his. The honest fishermen took cordial leave of him. He arrived at Lucca, got some elegant clothing there, and went to Milan, where he represented himself as Count San Pietro. His first visit was to Radetzky, to whom he denounced the fishermen who had saved his life. Radetzky took advantage of the traitor's story, captured the fishermen, had them tried by court-martial, and then shot. From that moment San Pietro became a favorite of the marshal.

The Major Bartolomeo had been formerly a croupier in a large gambling house at Lucca. Where he got his major's t.i.tle from, no one knew; even his mistress, the beautiful Aurora Vertelli, was reticent on this point.

When Bartolomeo came back from Paris and threw his winnings, amounting to fifty thousand francs, into the lap of the handsome Aurora Vertelli, the practical beauty said:

"Bartolomeo, suppose we open a dining-room too. You have been a croupier long enough--let us try to turn over the fifty thousand francs."

Bartolomeo gleefully a.s.sented to this proposal. They opened a magnificent place, and were soon making money hand over fist. Yet--no luck without a shadow--one evening, as Bartolomeo was receiving his guests, a tall, slim young man, whose face was disfigured by a scar, approached him, and laying his hand upon his shoulder, whispered in his ear:

"Good-evening, father."

The major trembled, and, looking with affright at the stranger, stammered:

"I do not know you, sir--it would be a great honor to me--but--"

The stranger laughed loudly, and, conducting the major to a neighboring room, impressively said:

"My dear sir, let us be candid--do you remember the name of Cavalcanti which you once wrongfully bore?"

The major grew pale, and the stranger continued unmercifully:

"If the officials were to find out that you were once a counterfeiter, it might go hard with you. Your license would be revoked, and besides--well, you understand."

The major looked about him in astonishment--who was the man who knew the secrets of his past life?

"Well, father?" mockingly said Benedetto.

"Father, father," repeated the major, dazed. "You are not--"

He mechanically opened his arms to press Benedetto to his heart.

"Not necessary," said the latter, laughing. "We are not in the Count of Monte-Cristo's house, and can dispense with tenderness."

The major sighed--for a further sum of fifty thousand francs he would have embraced ten Andreas.

"But who are you, anyhow?" he finally asked. "I thought I had heard that you--"

"Beware!" exclaimed Benedetto. "Do not refer to the past; here I am the Count of San Pietro!"

"The confidant--" stammered the major.

"Of Radetzky," added Benedetto.

"But as an Italian--"

"Keep silent and listen to me. Either you do as I say, or else I denounce you to the marshal," said Benedetto in a rough voice, and as the major bowed his head, the wretch explained to him what he wished of him. It was nothing less than to play the part of a spy.

One can call one's self a major, even play the part of a loving father for a sum of fifty thousand francs, and yet not be a traitor to one's country, and Bartolomeo, in spite of his being a criminal, was an ardent patriot; but when the count calmly said he would have Radetzky close the Casino, he gave in.

From that day the major tried to drive the Italians away from his Casino. He was pompous and disrespectful to his countrymen and polite and cordial to the Austrian officers, so that the latter were at length the only ones who came, and San Pietro's spy had very little news to report.

Aslitta, who was playing a double game, was the only one who could not be driven away. One day he took Bartolomeo aside, told him he knew his position exactly and would help him to deceive San Pietro and free Milan of the tyrant.

Bartolomeo, who until now found himself despised by his countrymen, was overjoyed; he threw himself at the feet of Aslitta, acknowledged him as his deity and vowed that he would follow him at command.

Bartolomeo arose, and as he did so he secretly resolved to square his account with Benedetto in such a way as to serve his country. He soon became the most clever of Aslitta's emissaries, and soon pictured himself as one of the most ill.u.s.trious patriots of his country bedecked with laurels.