to the bearer. It is urgent that I should have this money without delay. I do not say more, relying on you as you may rely on me.
Below these lines were written, in a strange hand, the following in Italian:
Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mille piastre non sono nelle mie mani, alla sette il Conte Alberto avrà cessato di vivere.
Luigi Vampa.
This second signature explained everything to Franz, who now understood the objection of the messenger to coming up into the apartment; the street was safer for him. Albert, then, had fallen into the hands of the famous bandit chief, in whose existence he had for so long a time refused to believe.
There was no time to lose. He hastened to open the secrétaire, and found the pocketbook in the drawer, and in it the letter of credit. There were in all six thousand piastres, but of these six thousand Albert had already expended three thousand.
As to Franz, he had no letter of credit, as he lived at Florence, and had only come to Rome to pass seven or eight days; he had brought but a hundred louis, and of these he had not more than fifty left. Thus seven or eight hundred piastres were wanting to them both to make up the sum that Albert required. True, he might in such a case rely on the kindness of Signor Torlonia. He was, therefore, about to return to the Palazzo Bracciano without loss of time, when suddenly a luminous idea crossed his mind.
He remembered the Count of Monte Cristo. Franz was about to ring for Signor Pastrini, when that worthy presented himself.
“My dear sir,” he said, hastily, “do you know if the count is within?”