“I am with the person to whom this letter was addressed, and to whom I desired to prove that Luigi Vampa was a man of his word. Come, your excellency,” the count added, turning to Franz, “here is Luigi Vampa, who will himself express to you his deep regret at the mistake he has committed.”
Franz approached, the chief advancing several steps to meet him.
“Welcome among us, your excellency,” he said to him; “you heard what the count just said, and also my reply; let me add that I would not for the four thousand piastres at which I had fixed your friend’s ransom, that this had happened.”
“But,” said Franz, looking round him uneasily, “where is the viscount?—I do not see him.”
“Nothing has happened to him, I hope,” said the count frowningly.
“The prisoner is there,” replied Vampa, pointing to the hollow space in front of which the bandit was on guard, “and I will go myself and tell him he is free.”
The chief went towards the place he had pointed out as Albert’s prison, and Franz and the count followed him.
“What is the prisoner doing?” inquired Vampa of the sentinel.
“Ma foi, captain,” replied the sentry, “I do not know; for the last hour I have not heard him stir.”
“Come in, your excellency,” said Vampa. The count and Franz ascended seven or eight steps after the chief, who drew back a bolt and opened a door. Then, by the gleam of a lamp, similar to that which lighted the columbarium, Albert was to be seen wrapped up in a cloak which one of the bandits had lent him, lying in a corner in profound slumber.