Quickly resolving to follow in the footsteps of Pasquale Solara, Espérance dashed on, utterly regardless of the bushes and briars that impeded his progress and tore great rents in his garments. Soon excited voices reached him, then the noise of a violent struggle. He pushed rapidly forward, intent upon reaching the scene of conflict, where he did not doubt the hapless Annunziata would be found. Soon he indistinctly saw two men engaged in a hand to hand strife. One was evidently Pasquale Solara, for a torch was smouldering on the ground half-extinguished by the damp moss, and the young man caught an occasional flash of a knife such as the shepherd had carried when he passed him, but beyond these circumstances all was supposition, for the identity of the contending men could not be made out in the obscurity.
Grasping his pistol tightly, Espérance was about declaring his presence when the figure of a man sprang up before him with the suddenness of a flash of lightning, seeming to emerge from the very ground at his feet. At that instant the torch gave a brilliant gleam and went out, but in that gleam Espérance recognized the man who opposed his progress as the strange peasant he had seen reading "Cæsar's Commentaries" the previous afternoon by the brook in the vicinity of the Solara cabin. Was he, too, mixed up in the abduction, and how? Again the suspicion returned to Espérance that he was the confederate, the accomplice of the Viscount Massetti.
"Remain where you are!" commanded the intruder, sternly. "If you advance another step, the consequences be upon your own head!"
"Stand aside and let me pass!" thundered the young man, presenting his pistol at his opponent's head. The other gave a low laugh, made a quick movement and Espérance's weapon went whirling swiftly through the air. Meanwhile the sounds of strife had ceased, and the almost impenetrable darkness of the forest effectually prevented the young man from distinguishing anything a yard distant. As his pistol was hurled from his grasp he closed his fists tightly, set his teeth firmly together and made a frantic dash at the peasant. The latter leaped aside with surprising agility, vanishing instantaneously among the clustering trees. So sudden was his leap that Espérance, carried on by the strong impetus he had given himself, plunged wildly into a clump of bushes and fell headlong upon a thick growth of moss, the softness of which prevented him from sustaining even the slightest bruise. As he came in contact with the moss, his hand touched something cold that sent an icy shiver through him from head to foot. Instinctively he recognized the object as a human face, and passing his hand along he felt the body and limbs. Great heavens! who was this? Had another murder been done? Would there ever be an end to the horrors and mysteries of this dreadful night? The body was that of a man. Espérance arose to his knees and drawing a match-safe from his pocket struck a light. As the flame flashed upon the countenance of the unconscious man, the features of Giovanni Massetti appeared! Espérance was stunned. How was this? The Viscount there, beneath his hand, cold and motionless! Who then could have been the individual with whom old Pasquale Solara had been struggling but a moment since? Truly the mysteries of this night were becoming too complicated for solution! And where was the unfortunate Annunziata? Had she escaped from her captor or captors, had she been rescued, had she perished like her ill-fated brother, or had the abduction been successfully accomplished? None of these questions could Espérance answer. One thing, however, was plain—there was no trace of her now; no clue that he could follow; therefore, further pursuit for the present was useless. Sadly he determined to wait for day and then resolve upon some plan to put into immediate execution to retrieve, as far as possible the great wrong that had been done.
But Giovanni must be attended to. Guilty or innocent, dead or alive, he could not be abandoned where he was. Humanity demanded that some effort be made in his behalf. Perhaps, too, if he were in a condition to speak, some key to the strange, bewildering and terrible transactions of the night might be obtained. Espérance raised him in his arms and carried him to the brook near the Solara cabin. By this time the moon had arisen and in its silvery rays he examined him thoroughly. There was no trace of blood, no wound; only a large bruise on his forehead, as if he had been struck with some heavy object and knocked down unconscious. He was alive, for his heart was beating, and once or twice he had moved on the sward where Espérance had placed him. The young man made a cup of his hands, and, dipping some cool water from the stream, dashed it in the Viscount's face. Instantly he opened his eyes, gazing about him in bewilderment. He sat up and stared wildly at Espérance.
"What is the matter? How came I here?" he asked, in astonishment. Then suddenly putting his hand to the bruise on his forehead, as if it pained him, he continued: "Ah! yes! I remember it all now! Luigi Vampa struck me!"
"Luigi Vampa struck you?" cried Espérance, more amazed than ever.
"Yes, after he had forced me to take a fearful oath to remain silent!"
"Silent about what? The abduction of Annunziata Solara?"
"Hush! hush! Do not mention that girl's name! Vampa or some of his men may be lurking in the vicinity and hear!"