Loud cries were heard from the street.
"Revenge on the murderers! Death to the miserable cowards."
A crowd numbered by hundreds gathered around the bier, and the carriers had trouble to reach the palace gate.
Luciola had dragged herself with difficulty to the staircase, but there she swooned away, and while Spero bedewed her beautiful pale face with his tears, he appealingly whispered to his father:
"Papa, you have already aided so many people, aid her too!"
Monte-Cristo started. He had promised Luciola to save Aslitta, and now—
The next moment he was standing beside the bier; his gaze rested searchingly, with unspeakable terror, on the pale features of the drowned man, and with trembling hands he bared the bosom and placed his ear to Aslitta's breast.
At this instant the beating of drums was heard and a Croatian battalion turned the corner of the street.
"Men," exclaimed Monte-Cristo, "carry the Marquis Aslitta into the Vidiserti palace, and if you love your leader, who has staked his life for you, see to it that no soldier enters the building! Turn the palace into a bulwark against which the soldiers smash their skulls, and who knows whether Italy and Aslitta may not, together, become resurrected?"