“Go on, then, for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this morning, and I must make up for it.”
“I was at Rome during the last Carnival.”
“We know that,” said Beauchamp.
“Yes, but what you do not know is that I was carried off by bandits.”
“There are no bandits,” cried Debray.
“Yes there are, and most hideous, or rather most admirable ones, for I found them ugly enough to frighten me.”
“Come, my dear Albert,” said Debray, “confess that your cook is behindhand, that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend or Marennes, and that, like Madame de Maintenon, you are going to replace the dish by a story. Say so at once; we are sufficiently well-bred to excuse you, and to listen to your history, fabulous as it promises to be.”
“And I say to you, fabulous as it may seem, I tell it as a true one from beginning to end. The brigands had carried me off, and conducted me to a gloomy spot, called the Catacombs of Saint Sebastian.”
“I know it,” said Château-Renaud; “I narrowly escaped catching a fever there.”
“And I did more than that,” replied Morcerf, “for I caught one. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum of 4,000 Roman crowns—about 24,000 francs. Unfortunately, I had not above 1,500. I was at the end of my journey and of my credit. I wrote to Franz—and were he here he would confirm every word—I wrote then to Franz that if he did not come with the four thousand crowns before six, at ten minutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saints and glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor of being; and Signor Luigi Vampa, such was the name of the chief of these bandits, would have scrupulously kept his word.”