duction of the beautiful
peasant girl. Could that be the fearful secret? Yes, it must be. Luigi
Vampa had assisted in that abduction, if report could be relied on, and
the chief criminal had been a youthful member of the Roman aristocracy.
Oh! it was all plain now. Zuleika shuddered and felt her heart grow
heavy as lead, while a sharp, killing pang ran through it. Had Esperance
been misled by Vampa and the Viscount? Had he discovered too late the
infamy of the affair and challenged Massetti on that account? This was,
doubtless, the solution of the whole enigma, and yet Zuleika hesitated
to accept it as such. No, no, she could not accept it without further
and more convincing proof! But how was that proof to be obtained?
Neither the Viscount nor her brother would speak; it was evident that
their lips were sealed; possibly an oath to maintain silence had been
extorted from them under terrible circumstances--an oath they feared to
break even to clear themselves from a foul suspicion. But Vampa? He
might, perhaps, be induced to give the key to the mystery. Vampa,
however, was far away in Rome and inaccessible. Zuleika made a wild
resolve--she would write to the brigand and throw herself upon his
generosity; then she decided that the plan was impracticable; her letter
would never reach Vampa--it would be seized by the Roman authorities and
might cause additional trouble by reviving a smothered scandal--and even
should it reach the brigand, would he answer it? The chances were a
hundred to one that he would not. At this instant an inspiration came to
the tortured girl like a flash of lightning. Her father had known Vampa
in the past, and, perhaps, still possessed some influence over him. She
had heard the story of Albert de Morcerf's adventure in the catacombs of
Saint Sebastian, and was aware that the brigand chief had released him
from captivity without ransom at her father's simple solicitation. Would
not Vampa answer her questions if M. Dantes could be influenced to write
him and ask them? She had full faith in her father's power to get a
letter to the bandit notwithstanding all the vigilance of the Roman
authorities. Yes, she would go to him, tell all her suspicions without
reserve and beg him to write the letter; it was hardly likely he would
refuse; he could not, he must not. Thus resolved, Zuleika looked her
brother full in the face and said, calmly:

"I see I torture you with my questions, Esperance, that for some rea