Chapter 96: The Mysterious Count: III
A servant wearing an elegant, rich livery appeared at the threshold. Placing two cards in the landlord’s hands, who immediately presented them to the young men, he said, "Please deliver these from the Count of Monte Cristo to Viscount Albert de Morcerf and Monsieur Franz d’Epinay. The Count of Monte Cristo asks these gentlemen’s permission to call on them as their neighbor, and he would be honored to know what time they would like to receive him."
"Well, Franz," Albert whispered, "there’s nothing to criticize here."
"Tell the count," Franz replied, "that we’ll have the pleasure of calling on him."
The servant bowed and left.
"That’s what I call a classy approach," Albert said. "You were absolutely right, Signor Pastrini. The Count of Monte Cristo is unquestionably a man of refinement and worldly knowledge."
"Then you accept his offer?" the innkeeper asked.
"Of course we do," Albert replied. "Still, I have to admit I’m sorry to give up the cart and the farmer group, it would have made such an impression! If it weren’t for the windows at the Palazzo Rospoli as compensation for losing our beautiful plan, I might have stuck with my original idea. What do you say, Franz?"
"Oh, I agree. The windows in the Palazzo Rospoli alone decided it for me."
The truth was that mention of the two seats in the Palazzo Rospoli had reminded Franz of the conversation he’d overheard the previous evening in the ruins of the arena between the mysterious stranger and another man. The cloaked stranger had promised to secure the freedom of a condemned criminal. If this mysterious individual turned out to be the same person he’d just seen at the theater, which Franz was certain he would be, then he’d be able to confirm his identity and investigate him with complete freedom.
Franz spent the night in confused dreams about his two encounters with his mysterious observer, and in waking speculation about what tomorrow would bring. Tomorrow would clear up every doubt. Unless his neighbor and would-be friend, the Count of Monte Cristo, possessed a magic ring that could make him invisible, it was certain he couldn’t escape this time.
Eight o’clock found Franz up and dressed, while Albert, who had no such pressing reasons for early rising, was still sound asleep. Franz’s first action was to summon the landlord, who appeared with his usual obsequiousness.
"Tell me, Signor Pastrini," Franz asked, "isn’t there some execution scheduled to take place today?"
"Yes, your excellency. But if you’re asking because you want to get a window to watch from, you’re far too late."
"No," Franz answered, "I had no such intention. Even if I wanted to witness it, I could have done so from Monte Pincio hill, couldn’t I?"
"Ah!" the innkeeper exclaimed. "I didn’t think your excellency would want to mingle with the rabble that always gathers on that hill, which they consider their exclusive territory."
"I may not go at all," Franz said, "but in case I feel inclined, give me some details about today’s executions."
"What details would your excellency like?"
"The number of people condemned, their names, and how they’ll be executed."
"That’s lucky timing, your excellency! They just brought me the notices a few minutes ago."
"What are those?"
"Wooden boards that get hung on street corners the evening before an execution. They post a paper with the condemned persons’ names, their crimes, and their method of execution. The reason for announcing it so publicly is so all good faithful Christians can pray for the unfortunate criminals and ask heaven to grant them sincere repentance."
"And these notices are brought to you so you can add your prayers to those of the faithful?" Franz asked somewhat skeptically.
"Oh no, your excellency! I don’t have time for anyone’s business but my own and my honored guests’. But I have an arrangement with the man who posts the papers, he brings them to me like theater playbills, in case any guest at my hotel wants to witness an execution and needs information about the time, place, and so on."
"What thoughtful attention on your part, Signor Pastrini," Franz said.
"Well, your excellency," the landlord replied, chuckling and rubbing his hands with satisfaction, "I think I can say I neglect nothing to deserve the support and patronage of the distinguished visitors to my humble hotel."
"I can see that clearly, my excellent host, and you can count on me to spread word of such striking proof of your attention wherever I go. Now, please let me see one of these notices."
"Nothing easier than fulfilling your excellency’s wish," the landlord said, opening the door. "I had one placed on the landing right outside your room."
He took the board from the wall and handed it to Franz, who read:
"The public is informed that on Wednesday, February 23rd, being the first day of Carnival, executions will take place in the Piazza del Popolo by order of the court. Two persons will be executed: Andrea Rondolo and Peppino, also called Rocca Priori. The first was found guilty of murdering a venerable and exemplary priest named Don César Torlini, a religious official at the church of St. John Lateran. The second was convicted of being an accomplice of the notorious and bloodthirsty bandit Luigi Vampa and his gang. The first criminal will be clubbed to death; the second will be beheaded. All good Christians are asked to pray for these unfortunate men, that God may awaken them to awareness of their guilt and grant them heartfelt repentance for their crimes."
This was exactly what Franz had heard the evening before in the ruins of the arena. Not one detail differed, the names of the condemned, their crimes, and their methods of execution all matched his previous information. Most likely, then, the man from that conversation was none other than the bandit Luigi Vampa himself, and the man in the cloak was the same person he’d known as "Sinbad the Sailor", who was apparently continuing his mysterious activities in Rome, just as he’d done in Porto-Vecchio and Tunis.
Time was passing, and Franz thought it wise to wake Albert. But just as he was about to go to his friend’s room, Albert entered fully dressed for the day. The anticipated excitement of Carnival had been running through his head so much that he’d left his bed far earlier than usual.
"Now, my excellent Signor Pastrini," Franz said to the landlord, "since we’re both ready, do you think we can visit the Count of Monte Cristo right away?"
"Absolutely," he replied. "The Count of Monte Cristo is always an early riser. I can guarantee he’s been up for two hours already."
"So you really think we won’t be intruding if we pay our respects to him now?"
"I’m quite sure. I’ll take all the blame if I’ve led you into a mistake."
"Well then, are you ready, Albert?"
"Perfectly."
"Let’s go thank him for his courtesy."
"Yes, let’s."
The landlord led the friends across the landing that separated them from the count’s apartments. He rang the bell, and when a servant opened the door, announced, "The French gentlemen."
The servant bowed respectfully and invited them to enter.
They passed through two rooms furnished with a luxury they hadn’t expected to find under Signor Pastrini’s roof, and were shown into an elegantly appointed drawing room. The finest Turkish carpets covered the floors, and the softest, most inviting couches, armchairs, and sofas offered their plush cushions to anyone seeking rest or comfort. Magnificent paintings by master artists hung on the walls, interspersed with impressive displays of military weapons, while heavy curtains of expensive tapestry hung before the room’s various doorways.
"If your excellencies would please be seated," the servant said, "I’ll inform the count that you’re here."
With those words, he disappeared behind one of the tapestry curtains. As the door opened, the sound of a stringed instrument reached the young men’s ears, but was almost immediately silenced by the door’s rapid closing, only one rich swell of harmony managed to escape.
Franz and Albert looked questioningly at each other, then at the gorgeous furnishings of the room. Everything seemed even more magnificent on second inspection than it had at first glance.
"Well," Franz said to his friend, "what do you think of all this?"
"Upon my soul, it strikes me that our elegant and attentive neighbor must either be some successful stock market speculator who bet against Spanish bonds, or some prince traveling incognito."
"Hush!" Franz replied. "We’ll find out who and what he is, here he comes!"
As Franz spoke, he heard the sound of a door opening, and almost immediately afterward the tapestry was drawn aside. The owner of all these riches stood before the two young men.
Albert instantly rose to greet him, but Franz remained frozen in his chair, spellbound. In the person who had just entered, he recognized not only the mysterious visitor from the arena and the occupant of the box at the theater, but also his extraordinary host from Monte Cristo.