o sudden had
been the change from imminent peril to safety that they could hardly
comprehend it. Luigi Vampa had come and gone like a flash, and both
bandits and danger had been dispelled by the wonderful magic of
Monte-Cristo's name. The brigand chief had styled Giovanni and Esperance
his friends, and as such they knew the entire country in the vicinity of
Rome was free to them; they could travel it by day or by night without
fear of molestation. Esperance cared little for this, but Giovanni was
elated by it, for it would enable him to seek out Annunziata Solara
without risk of interruption or impediment. But what was the Count of
Monte-Cristo's mysterious power? That was a question difficult, indeed,
to answer. At any rate, even the fierce Luigi Vampa bowed to it, and it
was as undisputed as it was strange.

The Viscount Massetti was the first to realize the necessity of a rapid
push for Rome. He was faint from loss of blood and excitement; besides,
his shattered arm throbbed violently and gave him twinges of
excruciating pain. He felt himself sinking and urged his friend to
hasten. Esperance acquiesced, and, supporting the young Italian as best
he could, they resumed the homeward journey. Scarcely a mile had been
traversed, however, when Giovanni threw himself upon the sward at the
foot of a great tree, declaring that it was altogether impossible for
him to advance another step. The throbbing in his arm had become
unbearable, taking his breath away and filling him with a sickening
sensation.

They were yet far from Rome, and not a sign of a habitation could be
discerned in any direction. Waiting for daylight to come was not to be
thought of; it would be some hours before dawn, and even when the sun
had arisen it was by no means certain that assistance would be
procurable. Meanwhile Giovanni would suffer torments, to say nothing of
the danger of being exposed in his condition to the influence of the
malaria from the surrounding marshes.

Esperance, though unwilling to leave his friend's side for an instant,
decided at last that it was imperative for him to go in search of
succor. Meanwhile a raging fever had set in and Giovanni was rapidly
growing worse. As the son of Monte-Cristo was about to start on his tour
of investigation, he heard a man's voice singing at some distance away,
but gradually coming nearer. The sound was cheery and reassuring, for
certainly the man who could sing so sweetly and joyously must hav