talian language. "You are a perfect
stranger to me, yet you know my name and seem acquainted with some of my
actions in the past. Who are you?"

"I am Peppino," answered the man, without taking his eyes from the
Count. "My companion who is being dragged away yonder is Beppo."

"Peppino?--Beppo?" said the Count, musingly. "Surely I have heard those
names before, but they are common in Italy, especially in Rome, and I
have been there frequently. Be more explicit, man."

"I will," replied the Italian. "I am the Peppino who served you so well
when Luigi Vampa held the French banker, Danglars, in captivity at your
behest. As for Beppo, you cannot have forgotten him; he also was a
member of Vampa's band at that period."

"Yes," said Monte-Cristo, "I remember both of you now, but what can I
do for you? Paris is vastly different from Rome, and my influence with
the French police is not by any means equal to that I wielded over Vampa
and his brigands at the time you speak of."

"The Count of Monte-Cristo's power is unbounded anywhere in the entire
world," rejoined the man, his brightened visage showing clearly the
extent of his faith. "A word from him will release both Beppo and
myself. Speak that word, your Excellency, and set us free!"

Ali had refrained from interfering when he heard this singular
conversation, which he fully understood. He was waiting for further
orders from his master.

The policeman grew impatient and, giving the Italian a rough shake, said
to him:

"Come now, let go that spoke and submit. Don't you see that you are
disturbing the Count of Monte-Cristo? His Excellency will do nothing for
such a scoundrel as you. Come, let go that spoke, I say!"

Peppino, however, would not obey and continued to supplicate the Count
to interfere in behalf of Beppo and himself. At last, driven to
desperation by Monte-Cristo's inaction, he cried out to him:

"If your Excellency will do nothing for us without recompense, I will
give that recompense; I will tell you in exchange for your efforts in
our behalf all I know concerning the black conspiracy against the
Viscount Giovanni Massetti!"

The Count was visibly moved by this speech. He stared at Peppino as if
he thought that he had not heard aright.

"The Viscount Giovanni Massetti! A black conspiracy against him! What do
you mean?" he inquired, quickly.

"Just what I say, your Excellency," answered the Italian. "I know that
the Viscount visited the Palazzo Co