Victor stood irresolute. He was unarmed, and knew the Count to be a vindictive, revengeful enemy, but he certainly would not murder him in cold blood in the presence of so many witnesses. He turned to Vivienne:
“Let the Count do his worst! I shall remain!”
The chanting of the Rimbeccare had ceased, but it was followed by shouts and cries which portended death to the object of the Death Brothers’ vengeance. The sound of moving men was heard; then Count Mont d’Oro, followed by Pascal, Julien, and the Death Brothers, entered the room, the startled and affrighted guests making way for them. The Count advanced towards Victor, who stood beside Vivienne. He pointed his finger at Victor and cried:
“He is the man!”
Then, turning to the guests, he said, in his most polite manner:
“I beg the pardon of the ladies and gentlemen present for what is about to occur. I would advise the ladies to leave the room, for the scene which is to follow is not one they should look upon. It will be an act of justice long delayed.”
The Mayor of Ajaccio, who had returned and heard the Count’s words, stepped forward, and said, in firm tones:
“If it is an act of justice, I represent the law and will see that it is administered.”
“It is an act of justice,” cried Pascal; “but it is more. It is something that affects the honour and good name of the Batistellis, and that is beyond your jurisdiction. Speak up, Count Mont d’Oro, and let all listen.”
“Before you all,” cried the Count, “I declare that the man standing there,” and he again pointed his finger at Victor, “is masquerading under an assumed name. He is not the one he seems to be. He is not an Englishman, but a Corsican. His name is not Victor Duquesne, but Vandemar Della Coscia!”