The Count was visibly moved by this speech. He stared at Peppino as if he thought that he had not heard aright.
"The Viscount Giovanni Massetti! A black conspiracy against him! What do you mean?" he inquired, quickly.
"Just what I say, your Excellency," answered the Italian. "I know that the Viscount visited the Palazzo Costi in Rome when you inhabited it with your family, and that he fell in love with your daughter. I also know the details of a plot by which a network of crushing circumstances has been woven about him with the view of burying him beneath a weight of shame, dishonor and even of crime! I can reveal those details and will do so if you aid my companion and myself in our present difficulty. Do I interest you, Signor Count?"
"Vastly," answered Monte-Cristo, his face assuming a serious look. "Go quietly with the gardien to the poste. I will follow immediately and see what can be done."
"Yes, your Excellency," said Peppino, submissively, and abandoning his grasp of the spoke he allowed the policeman to bear him away without further trouble. Meanwhile Beppo and the officer in whose custody he was had disappeared in the distance.
Those who had been near enough to the Count's barouche to witness this extraordinary scene were greatly astonished that such a famous character as the eloquent Deputy from Marseilles should stoop to converse with a malefactor in the public street, but their astonishment was immeasurably augmented when they saw the influence the celebrated orator exercised over the depraved Italian. They had not been able to understand the conversation, but the effect of Monte-Cristo's last words seemed little less than miraculous to them and they rent the air with loud and enthusiastic cheers.
"Long live the noble Count of Monte-Cristo! Long live the Deputy from Marseilles, the people's friend!" was shouted on every side.
Further on the cry was taken up and repeated, ringing forth far along the broad and beautiful Champs-Elysées!
Monte-Cristo arose in his barouche and, removing his hat, stood bareheaded, bowing to the excited populace.
This was the signal for new and heartier cheers. But the criminals having been removed, the crowd soon began to disperse. At length the thoroughfare was cleared and the Count's vehicle could proceed. Ali had impassibly resumed the driver's seat and, at a nod from his adored master, started the spirited horses down the immense avenue. As the blooded bays went prancing along with proudly arched necks, the Count bent over and said to Ali: