The Count resolved to make a final effort to convince Annunziata Solara of Giovanni's innocence, though he had determined to employ her evidence in any event, trusting to the lawyers and the Court to extract such admissions from her as would tend to show that she was mistaken in regard to the ident.i.ty of her abductor. He knew the former flower-girl was conscientious and firmly believed in her theory, but still he was not without hope that she might be led to see matters as they really were. Besides, if her father should see fit to confess she could not fail to be convinced of Vampa's guilt and in that case the expression of her conviction would be of the utmost value.

In pursuit of his plan Monte-Cristo at once communicated with Mme. de Rancogne at the Refuge in Civita Vecchia, begging her to bring Annunziata to Rome without an instant's delay. She promptly responded by appearing at the Hotel de France with her protegee and the Count arranged an interview between the latter and young Ma.s.setti in his salon. When Annunziata accompanied by the Superior of the Order of Sisters of Refuge entered the apartment and found Giovanni waiting for her there she flushed deeply and began to tremble.

"Courage, my poor child," said Mme. de Rancogne, soothingly, "courage!"

"Sister Annunziata," said the Count, who was also in the salon, "have no fear. All we wish in this peculiarly unfortunate matter is to get at the truth. Hear what the Viscount has to say in his own behalf--that is only justice!"

The flush on the girl's handsome countenance was succeeded by an ashen paleness, but she eventually managed to obtain control of herself.

Casting down her eyes, she said:

"I will hear what the Viscount Ma.s.setti has to say, but he will not, he cannot, deny his shameful and dishonorable conduct towards me!"

Giovanni, hardly less affected than the girl who supposed herself his victim, advanced to her and took her hand. She did not refuse to let him hold it in his, but studiously refrained from looking him in the face.

"Annunziata," said Ma.s.setti, humbly, "I do not deny that my conduct towards you in the past was altogether reprehensible and unpardonable. I do not deny that circ.u.mstances so shaped themselves that I was made to seem a wretched, despicable criminal in your eyes; but, Annunziata, I stopped short of actual guilt, and as Heaven is my witness I had no hand either in your abduction or the horrible events that accompanied and followed it! This I swear, and this is G.o.d's truth!"

Annunziata lifted her eyes and gave him a searching glance.

"I understand your anxiety to clear yourself," she said, slowly. "With a stain on your name you cannot marry the Count of Monte-Cristo's beautiful daughter!"

It was a keen, cutting thrust and made Giovanni wince, but he recovered himself instantly.

"I am anxious to clear my name that I may wed Zuleika," he replied, steadily and firmly, "but I am also anxious because I am innocent of all criminal action--innocent of your abduction, of your dishonor and of your brother's blood! Annunziata, do you still decline to believe my solemn a.s.sertions?"

"I would gladly believe them if I could," responded the girl; "but, alas! I cannot! I saw your face when your mask fell from it that dreadful night in the forest! I heard the tones of your voice afterwards in the hut guarded by the bandits! What more convincing evidence could I require?"

"You were mistaken, Annunziata, you were fearfully mistaken!" cried the young Italian, overwhelming despair seizing upon him and crushing the hope in his heart. He could not convince the former flower-girl, he could not even shake her convictions! He had failed with her as Monte-Cristo had previously failed at the Refuge in Civita Vecchia! Up to this time he had continued to hold Annunziata's hand, but now he dropped it as if it had been some venomous serpent.

Annunziata was deeply affected, but her emotion arose from an altogether different cause. She felt her shame and disgrace and was, besides, horrified at the idea that she had once hung upon the honeyed words of such a scoundrel as in her view the Viscount Ma.s.setti had proved to be.

Monte-Cristo was now thoroughly satisfied that Giovanni could effect nothing with Annunziata and that a further prolongation of the interview would only be fraught with additional suffering for both the girl and young Ma.s.setti; he, therefore, requested Mme. de Rancogne to take her protegee to her apartment, and when they had quitted the salon said to the Viscount:

"We must trust this girl to the lawyers and judges, Giovanni. They perhaps may be sufficiently shrewd to shake her testimony even should old Solara elect to maintain silence on the subject that vitally concerns us."

At the appointed time the trial of Luigi Vampa began in the Judgment Hall of the Vatican, which was crowded to its utmost capacity, both men and women being present and striving to push forward so as to obtain a glimpse of the notorious brigand chief and of the first witness Annunziata Solara.

Cardinal Monti in person presided, a.s.sisted by two subordinate Cardinals. In the portion of the hall railed off for the use of the bar sat Monte-Cristo and the Viscount Ma.s.setti with their lawyers, the best and most acute advocates in Rome, while just without the rail were M.

Morrel and Esperance, the latter having come from Paris expressly to attend the trial, though at his request his testimony was not to be demanded of him. Just within the rail and close beside Maximilian and the son of Monte-Cristo Valentine and Zuleika were seated, both closely veiled. Near them sat Mme. de Rancogne and the unfortunate Annunziata Solara, clad in the dark gray habits of the Order of the Sisters of Refuge, their white faces plainly visible beneath the nuns' bonnets of spotless linen they wore. Peppino sat beside the Count.

There was a low murmur of conversation in the Judgment Hall, as the audience discussed the probable issue of the trial and expressed diverse opinions, though all were agreed that whatever might be the decision of the Court in regard to the abduction and conspiracy Luigi Vampa would not escape punishment for the crimes he had committed in his capacity of chief of the bandits.

Presently Cardinal Monti arose, magnificent in his princely apparel and glittering jewels, waving his hand for silence. His gesture was instantly obeyed and the entire hall grew still as death. Then the Cardinal resumed his seat on the judicial bench, and, turning to the clerk of the Court, commanded him to proclaim the session opened. This was done, whereupon the Cardinal said, in a voice distinctly audible in all parts of the vast apartment:

"Bring in the accused!"

A moment later Luigi Vampa entered a raised enclosure serving the purpose of a dock in the custody of two stalwart and thoroughly armed military policemen. His face was ashen, but he glanced about him nonchalantly and defiantly. When his eyes rested upon Monte-Cristo and the Viscount Ma.s.setti he smiled in a peculiar sort of way as if he felt convinced that all their labors would be in vain. Suddenly he saw the two gray-robed women in their linen nuns' bonnets, starting slightly as he recognized Annunziata Solara, but otherwise evincing no emotion.

The men and women in the distant portions of the hall got upon the benches, craning their necks to see the accused, and there arose a murmur, a faint hiss, that was promptly checked by the vigilant Court officials who were marching here and there with their long white staffs in their hands and their black caps upon their heads.

Then Cardinal Monti again arose, speaking in a deep, impressive voice:

"Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar," said he, "you stand here accused of many grave crimes, but the charge which the Court will first consider is blacker than all the rest; that charge, Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, is that you abducted and afterwards seduced a peasant girl named Annunziata Solara and, in collusion with her father, Pasquale Solara, conspired to throw the onus and suspicion of your crime upon an innocent man, the Viscount Giovanni Ma.s.setti. What say you, Luigi Vampa, prisoner at the bar, are you guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty, your Eminence!" responded the unabashed brigand chief.

At this there was another murmur in the hall which was promptly suppressed as before.

"Accused, you can take your seat," said the Cardinal.

Vampa did as directed, the policemen remaining standing at his sides with drawn swords in their hands.

"Let the first witness be called," said the Cardinal, addressing the clerk of the Court.

That official arose and called out, in a loud voice:

"Annunziata Solara!"

The former flower-girl came forward, slowly and timidly, and went upon the elevated witness stand, where the accustomed oath was administered to her by the clerk.

Again there was a general craning of necks, the women showing the strongest anxiety to behold the girl who was said to have been Vampa's victim.

In a low, faltering voice Annunziata proceeded to give her testimony.

She repeated her sad story precisely as she had done before, entirely exonerating the bandit chief and throwing the whole weight of the crime upon the shoulders of the Viscount Ma.s.setti.

This was the reverse of what the audience had expected and the murmur of surprise was universal.

The prisoner glanced at Monte-Cristo and Ma.s.setti with a radiant look of triumph.

The Viscount's lawyers then took the witness in hand, but shrewd and able as they were they utterly failed to make her swerve even a hair's breadth from her evidence. She returned to her place beside Mme. de Rancogne, confident that she had done her duty and uttered not a single syllable that was untrue.

Peppino followed her. He repeated almost word for word the details he had given the Count of Monte-Cristo in Paris. His recital was so vivid, so circ.u.mstantial, that it made a wonderful impression both upon the Court and the audience. When he spoke of old Pasquale Solara's infamous sale of his beautiful daughter to Luigi Vampa the male auditors could scarcely restrain their indignation and the women fairly screamed with horror, the utmost efforts of the Court officers being required to force them into anything like quietude. Another sensation was caused by Peppino's exposure of the nefarious conspiracy by which the innocent young Viscount was brought and kept under the suspicion of murder and abduction. When he concluded his narrative and quitted the witness stand he and Vampa exchanged glances of bitter and vindictive hate, and it required all the strength of the policemen in charge of the prisoner to keep him from leaping from the dock and attempting to take summary vengeance upon the fearless and outspoken witness.

The Viscount Ma.s.setti now took the stand. He gave the full history of his acquaintance with Annunziata Solara from the meeting in the Piazza del Popolo to the encounter with Vampa in the forest and the administration of the oath of silence, speaking with such evident sincerity and feeling that his testimony acquired additional weight thereby. The brigand chief watched him closely, listening to his testimony with a contemptuous smile. When the young Italian returned to Monte-Cristo and resumed his seat his pale visage was a ma.s.s of perspiration and great agitation had possession of him.

"Call Pasquale Solara," said the Cardinal to the clerk, after referring to a paper upon the desk in front of him.

"Pasquale Solara!" cried the clerk, immediately.

There was a stir in the audience and four soldiers of the Swiss Guard advanced towards the judicial bench, bearing a stretcher upon which was extended the emaciated form of the aged shepherd.

As her father was borne past her, Annunziata uttered a cry and arose to go to him, but Mme. de Rancogne gently pulled her back into her chair, whispering to her that he was in the custody of the Court and that she could only see him after the trial was concluded, when the requisite permission would be obtained for her.

Old Pasquale was lifted from the stretcher by a couple of soldiers and aided to mount the witness stand. He was so faint and weak that it was necessary to hold him in an upright position after he had with great difficulty mounted the stand. Even then he trembled like a paralytic and it was some moments before he could answer the questions addressed to him. Vampa regarded him with intense anxiety, eagerly leaning forward to catch the feeble, almost imperceptible sounds that issued from his lips.

"May it please your Eminence," said old Pasquale, painfully pausing after every word, "I am a dying man. The hospital physician who has accompanied me and is now in the Judgment Hall a.s.sures me that I can last but a few days at most. I have been a great sinner, but I do not desire to go before my angered G.o.d with all the weight of my iniquity upon me; therefore, I have resolved to speak, to tell all I know!"

The spectators in the body of the hall shuddered. Old Solara's voice did not reach them, but they felt instinctively that some dreadful revelation was either being or about to be made. Monte-Cristo and Ma.s.setti half arose in their seats; they were near enough to grasp the purport of what the shepherd had said and its effect upon them was absolutely overwhelming; they had expected that Pasquale would either tell a cunningly fabricated tale calculated to shield Vampa or take refuge in stony, stubborn silence, but instead he was going to make a clean breast of the whole terrible crime! Annunziata had also heard and was listening for what should follow with a countenance almost as white as her nun's bonnet. Mme. de Rancogne caught her hands and held them firmly; she too was startled beyond expression by old Solara's words and feared the effect of further revelations upon her protegee. Zuleika, Valentine, M. Morrel and Esperance were too far away from the witness stand to comprehend a syllable, but like the spectators in the body of the hall they divined what was on the point of coming, holding their breath in fear and expectation. As for Vampa, he could hardly be kept still; his fingers worked nervously as if he desired to strangle the dying witness, and he glanced at him with the flashing eyes of a ferocious tiger brought to bay.