Peppino was sitting on the edge of an iron bedstead, the very picture of despair. He thought that Monte-Cristo had deserted him, that he would not interfere even with the prospect of obtaining the details of the plot against young Massetti. As the Count entered the cell his countenance brightened instantly and hope was renewed in his bosom. The chief discreetly withdrew, saying as he did so:
"I will wait without, in the corridor."
With these words he closed the door of the cell and Monte-Cristo found himself alone with Peppino.
All the light that made its way into the gloomy cell came through a small grated window high up in the wall, placed at such a distance from the floor that no prisoner could reach it even by climbing upon his bedstead. The walls and ceiling were of stone.
"Well," asked Peppino, "how has your Excellency succeeded?"
"I have made but little progress as yet, though I hope to be able to do something for you and Beppo in a very short time," answered the Count, in a reassuring voice.
"I am satisfied," said Peppino, cheerily. "If your Excellency only determines upon it, Beppo and myself will shortly be free!"
"I cannot go that far, my good fellow, but I can and do promise you all my aid and influence can effect."
"They will effect everything necessary, Signor Count," replied the Italian, confidently.