stant he
expired without even uttering a groan.
Giovanni, whose arm was badly shattered and who was suffering frightful
pain, stood speechless with amazement at this sudden, unexpected
intervention in his favor. Esperance instantly sprang to his side. The
young Italian stared at him as if he had been an apparition from the
other world. He failed to recognize him in his peasant's dress, with his
stained visage.
"Who are you?" he gasped, as soon as he was able to find words.
"Do you not know me?" asked Esperance, astonished. In his excitement he
had forgotten his disguise.
"You are a stranger to me," replied the Viscount, "but my gratitude is
none the less on that account. You have rescued me from captivity,
perhaps saved my life!"
"I am no stranger, Giovanni. I am your friend, Esperance."
"What! Esperance in that dress, with that sunburnt countenance! I
thought your voice had a strangely familiar sound, but your disguise
proved too complete for me to penetrate it!"
These words recalled to the mind of the son of Monte-Cristo the changes
he had made in his appearance. No wonder that Viscount had failed to
recognize him!
"Why did you disguise yourself, and how came you here at this critical
juncture?" demanded Giovanni, after a pause.
"I disguised myself that I might follow you without fear of detection.
You would not listen to reason, and I determined to protect you during
your rash adventure so far as might lie in my power."
"From the bottom of my heart I thank you, Esperance. You are a brave as
well as a devoted friend, fully worthy of your illustrious father! But
how did you know me? I too, am disguised."
"The fact of my own disguise enabled me to penetrate yours. I
recognized you almost immediately after you passed me on the Ponte St.
Angelo."
"What! Were you the peasant I nearly ran down as I crossed the bridge?"
"I was. But let us lose no more time; we have lost enough already.
Besides, more of Luigi Vampa's band are probably prowling in the
vicinity, and I imagine we both have had sufficient of the banditti for
one night! Prudence dictates that we should return at once to Rome. With
your shattered arm, you surely do not count upon continuing your search
for the fair Annunziata at present?"
"No; that is impossible, I regret to say. I will return with you to
Rome."
As the Viscount spoke a sudden tremor seized upon him, and he leaned on
his friend's shoulder for support.
"You are f
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