"Gentlemen," said the Count of Monte Cristo as he entered,"I pray you excuse me for suffering my visit to beanticipated; but I feared to disturb you by presentingmyself earlier at your apartments; besides, you sent me wordthat you would come to me, and I have held myself at yourdisposal."

"Franz and I have to thank you a thousand times, count,"returned Albert; "you extricated us from a great dilemma,and we were on the point of inventing a very fantasticvehicle when your friendly invitation reached us."

"Indeed," returned the count, motioning the two young men tosit down. "It was the fault of that blockhead Pastrini, thatI did not sooner assist you in your distress. He did notmention a syllable of your embarrassment to me, when heknows that, alone and isolated as I am, I seek everyopportunity of making the acquaintance of my neighbors. Assoon as I learned I could in any way assist you, I mosteagerly seized the opportunity of offering my services." Thetwo young men bowed. Franz had, as yet, found nothing tosay; he had come to no determination, and as nothing in thecount's manner manifested the wish that he should recognizehim, he did not know whether to make any allusion to thepast, or wait until he had more proof; besides, althoughsure it was he who had been in the box the previous evening,he could not be equally positive that this was the man hehad seen at the Colosseum. He resolved, therefore, to letthings take their course without making any direct overtureto the count. Moreover, he had this advantage, he was masterof the count's secret, while the count had no hold on Franz,who had nothing to conceal. However, he resolved to lead theconversation to a subject which might possibly clear up hisdoubts.

"Count," said he, "you have offered us places in yourcarriage, and at your windows in the Rospoli Palace. Can youtell us where we can obtain a sight of the Piazza delPopolo?"

"Ah," said the count negligently, looking attentively atMorcerf, "is there not something like an execution upon thePiazza del Popolo?"

"Yes," returned Franz, finding that the count was coming tothe point he wished.

"Stay, I think I told my steward yesterday to attend tothis; perhaps I can render you this slight service also." Heextended his hand, and rang the bell thrice. "Did you everoccupy yourself," said he to Franz, "with the employment oftime and the means of simplifying the summoning yourservants? I have. When I ring once, it is for my valet;twice, for my majordomo; thrice, for my steward, - thus Ido not waste a minute or a word. Here he is." A man of aboutforty-five or fifty entered, exactly resembling the smugglerwho had introduced Franz into the cavern; but he did notappear to recognize him. It was evident he had his orders."Monsieur Bertuccio," said the count, "you have procured mewindows looking on the Piazza del Popolo, as I ordered youyesterday "

"Yes, excellency," returned the steward; "but it was verylate."

"Did I not tell you I wished for one?" replied the count,frowning.

"And your excellency has one, which was let to PrinceLobanieff; but I was obliged to pay a hundred" -

"That will do - that will do, Monsieur Bertuccio; sparethese gentlemen all such domestic arrangements. You have thewindow, that is sufficient. Give orders to the coachman; andbe in readiness on the stairs to conduct us to it." Thesteward bowed, and was about to quit the room. "Ah,"continued the count, "be good enough to ask Pastrini if hehas received the tavoletta, and if he can send us an accountof the execution."

"There is no need to do that," said Franz, taking out histablets; "for I saw the account, and copied it down."

"Very well, you can retire, M. Bertuccio; but let us knowwhen breakfast is ready. These gentlemen," added he, turningto the two friends, "will, I trust, do me the honor tobreakfast with me?"

"But, my dear count," said Albert, "we shall abuse yourkindness."

"Not at all; on the contrary, you will give me greatpleasure. You will, one or other of you, perhaps both,return it to me at Paris. M. Bertuccio, lay covers forthree." He then took Franz's tablets out of his hand. "`Weannounce,' he read, in the same tone with which he wouldhave read a newspaper, `that to-day, the 23d of February,will be executed Andrea Rondolo, guilty of murder on theperson of the respected and venerated Don Cesare Torlini,canon of the church of St. John Lateran, and Peppino, calledRocca Priori, convicted of complicity with the detestablebandit Luigi Vampa, and the men of his band.' Hum! `Thefirst will be mazzolato, the second decapitato.' Yes,"continued the count, "it was at first arranged in this way;but I think since yesterday some change has taken place inthe order of the ceremony."

"Really?" said Franz.

"Yes, I passed the evening at the Cardinal Rospigliosi's,and there mention was made of something like a pardon forone of the two men."

"For Andrea Rondolo?" asked Franz.

"No," replied the count, carelessly; "for the other (heglanced at the tablets as if to recall the name), forPeppino, called Rocca Priori. You are thus deprived ofseeing a man guillotined; but the mazzuola still remains,which is a very curious punishment when seen for the firsttime, and even the second, while the other, as you mustknow, is very simple. The mandaia* never fails, nevertrembles, never strikes thirty times ineffectually, like thesoldier who beheaded the Count of Chalais, and to whosetender mercy Richelieu had doubtless recommended thesufferer. Ah," added the count, in a contemptuous tone, "donot tell me of European punishments, they are in theinfancy, or rather the old age, of cruelty."

Guillotine.

"Really, count," replied Franz, "one would think that youhad studied the different tortures of all the nations of theworld."

"There are, at least, few that I have not seen," said thecount coldly.

"And you took pleasure in beholding these dreadfulspectacles?"

"My first sentiment was horror, the second indifference, thethird curiosity."

"Curiosity - that is a terrible word."

"Why so? In life, our greatest preoccupation is death; is itnot then, curious to study the different ways by which thesoul and body can part; and how, according to theirdifferent characters, temperaments, and even the differentcustoms of their countries, different persons bear thetransition from life to death, from existence toannihilation? As for myself, I can assure you of one thing,- the more men you see die, the easier it becomes to dieyourself; and in my opinion, death may be a torture, but itis not an expiation."

"I do not quite understand you," replied Franz; "prayexplain your meaning, for you excite my curiosity to thehighest pitch."

"Listen," said the count, and deep hatred mounted to hisface, as the blood would to the face of any other. "If a manhad by unheard-of and excruciating tortures destroyed yourfather, your mother, your betrothed, - a being who, whentorn from you, left a desolation, a wound that never closes,in your breast, - do you think the reparation that societygives you is sufficient when it interposes the knife of theguillotine between the base of the occiput and the trapezalmuscles of the murderer, and allows him who has caused usyears of moral sufferings to escape with a few moments ofphysical pain?"

"Yes, I know," said Franz, "that human justice isinsufficient to console us; she can give blood in return forblood, that is all; but you must demand from her only whatit is in her power to grant."

"I will put another case to you," continued the count; "thatwhere society, attacked by the death of a person, avengesdeath by death. But are there not a thousand tortures bywhich a man may be made to suffer without society taking theleast cognizance of them, or offering him even theinsufficient means of vengeance, of which we have justspoken? Are there not crimes for which the impalement of theTurks, the augers of the Persians, the stake and the brandof the Iroquois Indians, are inadequate tortures, and whichare unpunished by society? Answer me, do not these crimesexist?"

"Yes," answered Franz; "and it is to punish them thatduelling is tolerated."

"Ah, duelling," cried the count; "a pleasant manner, upon mysoul, of arriving at your end when that end is vengeance! Aman has carried off your mistress, a man has seduced yourwife, a man has dishonored your daughter; he has renderedthe whole life of one who had the right to expect fromheaven that portion of happiness God his promised to everyone of his creatures, an existence of misery and infamy; andyou think you are avenged because you send a ball throughthe head, or pass a sword through the breast, of that manwho has planted madness in your brain, and despair in yourheart. And remember, moreover, that it is often he who comesoff victorious from the strife, absolved of all crime in theeyes of the world. No, no," continued the count, "had I toavenge myself, it is not thus I would take revenge."

"Then you disapprove of duelling? You would not fight aduel?" asked Albert in his turn, astonished at this strangetheory.

"Oh, yes," replied the count; "understand me, I would fighta duel for a trifle, for an insult, for a blow; and the moreso that, thanks to my skill in all bodily exercises, and theindifference to danger I have gradually acquired, I shouldbe almost certain to kill my man. Oh, I would fight for sucha cause; but in return for a slow, profound, eternaltorture, I would give back the same, were it possible; aneye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, as the Orientalistssay, - our masters in everything, - those favoredcreatures who have formed for themselves a life of dreamsand a paradise of realities."

"But," said Franz to the count, "with this theory, whichrenders you at once judge and executioner of your own cause,it would be difficult to adopt a course that would foreverprevent your falling under the power of the law. Hatred isblind, rage carries you away; and he who pours out vengeanceruns the risk of tasting a bitter draught."

"Yes, if he be poor and inexperienced, not if he be rich andskilful; besides, the worst that could happen to him wouldbe the punishment of which we have already spoken, and whichthe philanthropic French Revolution has substituted forbeing torn to pieces by horses or broken on the wheel. Whatmatters this punishment, as long as he is avenged? On myword, I almost regret that in all probability this miserablePeppino will not be beheaded, as you might have had anopportunity then of seeing how short a time the punishmentlasts, and whether it is worth even mentioning; but, reallythis is a most singular conversation for the Carnival,gentlemen; how did it arise? Ah, I recollect, you asked fora place at my window; you shall have it; but let us firstsit down to table, for here comes the servant to inform usthat breakfast is ready." As he spoke, a servant opened oneof the four doors of the apartment, saying - "Al suocommodo!" The two young men arose and entered thebreakfast-room.

During the meal, which was excellent, and admirably served,Franz looked repeatedly at Albert, in order to observe theimpressions which he doubted not had been made on him by thewords of their entertainer; but whether with his usualcarelessness he had paid but little attention to him,whether the explanation of the Count of Monte Cristo withregard to duelling had satisfied him, or whether the eventswhich Franz knew of had had their effect on him alone, heremarked that his companion did not pay the least regard tothem, but on the contrary ate like a man who for the lastfour or five months had been condemned to partake of Italiancookery - that is, the worst in the world. As for thecount, he just touched the dishes; he seemed to fulfil theduties of a host by sitting down with his guests, andawaited their departure to be served with some strange ormore delicate food. This brought back to Franz, in spite ofhimself, the recollection of the terror with which the counthad inspired the Countess G - - , and her firm convictionthat the man in the opposite box was a vampire. At the endof the breakfast Franz took out his watch. "Well," said thecount, "what are you doing?"

"You must excuse us, count," returned Franz, "but we havestill much to do."

"What may that be?"

"We have no masks, and it is absolutely necessary to procurethem."

"Do not concern yourself about that; we have, I think, aprivate room in the Piazza del Popolo; I will have whatevercostumes you choose brought to us, and you can dress there."

"After the execution?" cried Franz.

"Before or after, whichever you please."

"Opposite the scaffold?"

"The scaffold forms part of the fete."

"Count, I have reflected on the matter," said Franz, "Ithank you for your courtesy, but I shall content myself withaccepting a place in your carriage and at your window at theRospoli Palace, and I leave you at liberty to dispose of myplace at the Piazza del Popolo."

"But I warn you, you will lose a very curious sight,"returned the count.

"You will describe it to me," replied Franz, "and therecital from your lips will make as great an impression onme as if I had witnessed it. I have more than once intendedwitnessing an execution, but I have never been able to makeup my mind; and you, Albert?"

"I," replied the viscount, - "I saw Castaing executed, butI think I was rather intoxicated that day, for I had quittedcollege the same morning, and we had passed the previousnight at a tavern."

"Besides, it is no reason because you have not seen anexecution at Paris, that you should not see one anywhereelse; when you travel, it is to see everything. Think what afigure you will make when you are asked, `How do theyexecute at Rome?' and you reply, `I do not know'! And,besides, they say that the culprit is an infamous scoundrel,who killed with a log of wood a worthy canon who had broughthim up like his own son. Diable, when a churchman is killed,it should be with a different weapon than a log, especiallywhen he has behaved like a father. If you went to Spain,would you not see the bull-fight? Well, suppose it is abull-fight you are going to see? Recollect the ancientRomans of the Circus, and the sports where they killed threehundred lions and a hundred men. Think of the eightythousand applauding spectators, the sage matrons who tooktheir daughters, and the charming Vestals who made with thethumb of their white hands the fatal sign that said, `Come,despatch the dying.'"

"Shall you go, then, Albert?" asked Franz.

"Ma foi, yes; like you, I hesitated, but the count'seloquence decides me."

"Let us go, then," said Franz, "since you wish it; but onour way to the Piazza del Popolo, I wish to pass through theCorso. Is this possible, count?"

"On foot, yes, in a carriage, no."

"I will go on foot, then."

"Is it important that you should go that way?"

"Yes, there is something I wish to see."

"Well, we will go by the Corso. We will send the carriage towait for us on the Piazza del Popolo, by the Strada delBabuino, for I shall be glad to pass, myself, through theCorso, to see if some orders I have given have beenexecuted."

"Excellency," said a servant, opening the door, "a man inthe dress of a penitent wishes to speak to you."

"Ah, yes" returned the count, "I know who he is, gentlemen;will you return to the salon? you will find good cigars onthe centre table. I will be with you directly." The youngmen rose and returned into the salon, while the count, againapologizing, left by another door. Albert, who was a greatsmoker, and who had considered it no small sacrifice to bedeprived of the cigars of the Cafe de Paris, approached thetable, and uttered a cry of joy at perceiving some veritablepuros.

"Well," asked Franz, "what think you of the Count of MonteCristo?"

"What do I think?" said Albert, evidently surprised at sucha question from his companion; "I think he is a delightfulfellow, who does the honors of his table admirably; who hastravelled much, read much, is, like Brutus, of the Stoicschool, and moreover," added he, sending a volume of smokeup towards the ceiling, "that he has excellent cigars." Suchwas Albert's opinion of the count, and as Franz well knewthat Albert professed never to form an opinion except uponlong reflection, he made no attempt to change it. "But,"said he, "did you observe one very singular thing?"

"What?"

"How attentively he looked at you."

"At me?"

"Yes." - Albert reflected. "Ah," replied he, sighing, "thatis not very surprising; I have been more than a year absentfrom Paris, and my clothes are of a most antiquated cut; thecount takes me for a provincial. The first opportunity youhave, undeceive him, I beg, and tell him I am nothing of thekind." Franz smiled; an instant after the count entered.

"I am now quite at your service, gentlemen," said he. "Thecarriage is going one way to the Piazza del Popolo, and wewill go another; and, if you please, by the Corso. Take somemore of these cigars, M. de Morcerf."

"With all my heart," returned Albert; "Italian cigars arehorrible. When you come to Paris, I will return all this."

"I will not refuse; I intend going there soon, and since youallow me, I will pay you a visit. Come, we have not any timeto lose, it is half-past twelve - let us set off." Allthree descended; the coachman received his master's orders,and drove down the Via del Babuino. While the threegentlemen walked along the Piazza de Spagni and the ViaFrattina, which led directly between the Fiano and Rospolipalaces, Franz's attention was directed towards the windowsof that last palace, for he had not forgotten the signalagreed upon between the man in the mantle and theTranstevere peasant. "Which are your windows?" asked he ofthe count, with as much indifference as he could assume."The three last," returned he, with a negligence evidentlyunaffected, for he could not imagine with what intention thequestion was put. Franz glanced rapidly towards the threewindows. The side windows were hung with yellow damask, andthe centre one with white damask and a red cross. The man inthe mantle had kept his promise to the Transteverin, andthere could now be no doubt that he was the count. The threewindows were still untenanted. Preparations were making onevery side; chairs were placed, scaffolds were raised, andwindows were hung with flags. The masks could not appear;the carriages could not move about; but the masks werevisible behind the windows, the carriages, and the doors.

Franz, Albert, and the count continued to descend the Corso.As they approached the Piazza del Popolo, the crowd becamemore dense, and above the heads of the multitude two objectswere visible: the obelisk, surmounted by a cross, whichmarks the centre of the square, and in front of the obelisk,at the point where the three streets, del Babuino, delCorso, and di Ripetta, meet, the two uprights of thescaffold, between which glittered the curved knife of themandaia. At the corner of the street they met the count'ssteward, who was awaiting his master. The window, let at anexorbitant price, which the count had doubtless wished toconceal from his guests, was on the second floor of thegreat palace, situated between the Via del Babuino and theMonte Pincio. It consisted, as we have said, of a smalldressing-room, opening into a bedroom, and, when the door ofcommunication was shut, the inmates were quite alone. Onchairs were laid elegant masquerade costumes of blue andwhite satin. "As you left the choice of your costumes tome," said the count to the two friends, "I have had thesebrought, as they will be the most worn this year; and theyare most suitable, on account of the confetti (sweetmeats),as they do not show the flour."

Franz heard the words of the count but imperfectly, and heperhaps did not fully appreciate this new attention to theirwishes; for he was wholly absorbed by the spectacle that thePiazza del Popolo presented, and by the terrible instrumentthat was in the centre. It was the first time Franz had everseen a guillotine, - we say guillotine, because the Romanmandaia is formed on almost the same model as the Frenchinstrument.* The knife, which is shaped like a crescent,that cuts with the convex side, falls from a less height,and that is all the difference. Two men, seated on themovable plank on which the victim is laid, were eating theirbreakfasts, while waiting for the criminal. Their repastconsisted apparently of bread and sausages. One of themlifted the plank, took out a flask of wine, drank some, andthen passed it to his companion. These two men were theexecutioner's assistants. At this sight Franz felt theperspiration start forth upon his brow. The prisoners,transported the previous evening from the Carcere Nuovo tothe little church of Santa Maria del Popolo, had passed thenight, each accompanied by two priests, in a chapel closedby a grating, before which were two sentinels, who wererelieved at intervals. A double line of carbineers, placedon each side of the door of the church, reached to thescaffold, and formed a circle around it, leaving a pathabout ten feet wide, and around the guillotine a space ofnearly a hundred feet. All the rest of the square was pavedwith heads. Many women held their infants on theirshoulders, and thus the children had the best view. TheMonte Pincio seemed a vast amphitheatre filled withspectators; the balconies of the two churches at the cornerof the Via del Babuino and the Via di Ripetta were crammed;the steps even seemed a parti-colored sea, that was impelledtowards the portico; every niche in the wall held its livingstatue. What the count said was true - the most curiousspectacle in life is that of death. And yet, instead of thesilence and the solemnity demanded by the occasion, laughterand jests arose from the crowd. It was evident that theexecution was, in the eyes of the people, only thecommencement of the Carnival. Suddenly the tumult ceased, asif by magic, and the doors of the church opened. Abrotherhood of penitents, clothed from head to foot in robesof gray sackcloth, with holes for the eyes, and holding intheir hands lighted tapers, appeared first; the chiefmarched at the head. Behind the penitents came a man of vaststature and proportions. He was naked, with the exception ofcloth drawers at the left side of which hung a large knifein a sheath, and he bore on his right shoulder a heavy ironsledge-hammer. This man was the executioner. He had,moreover, sandals bound on his feet by cords. Behind theexecutioner came, in the order in which they were to die,first Peppino and then Andrea. Each was accompanied by twopriests. Neither had his eyes bandaged. Peppino walked witha firm step, doubtless aware of what awaited him. Andrea wassupported by two priests. Each of them, from time to time,kissed the crucifix a confessor held out to them. At thissight alone Franz felt his legs tremble under him. He lookedat Albert - he was as white as his shirt, and mechanicallycast away his cigar, although he had not half smoked it. Thecount alone seemed unmoved - nay, more, a slight colorseemed striving to rise in his pale cheeks. His nostrilsdilated like those of a wild beast that scents its prey, andhis lips, half opened, disclosed his white teeth, small andsharp like those of a jackal. And yet his features wore anexpression of smiling tenderness, such as Franz had neverbefore witnessed in them; his black eyes especially werefull of kindness and pity. However, the two culpritsadvanced, and as they approached their faces became visible.Peppino was a handsome young man of four or five and twenty,bronzed by the sun; he carried his head erect, and seemed onthe watch to see on which side his liberator would appear.Andrea was short and fat; his visage, marked with brutalcruelty, did not indicate age; he might be thirty. In prisonhe had suffered his beard to grow; his head fell on hisshoulder, his legs bent beneath him, and his movements wereapparently automatic and unconscious.

Dr. Guillotin got the idea of his famous machine fromwitnessing an execution in Italy.

"I thought," said Franz to the count, "that you told methere would be but one execution."

"I told you true," replied he coldly.

"And yet here are two culprits."

"Yes; but only one of these two is about to die; the otherhas many years to live."

"If the pardon is to come, there is no time to lose."

"And see, here it is," said the count. At the moment whenPeppino reached the foot of the mandaia, a priest arrived insome haste, forced his way through the soldiers, and,advancing to the chief of the brotherhood, gave him a foldedpaper. The piercing eye of Peppino had noticed all. Thechief took the paper, unfolded it, and, raising his hand,"Heaven be praised, and his holiness also," said he in aloud voice; "here is a pardon for one of the prisoners!"

"A pardon!" cried the people with one voice - "a pardon!"At this cry Andrea raised his head. "Pardon for whom?" criedhe.

Peppino remained breathless. "A pardon for Peppino, calledRocca Priori," said the principal friar. And he passed thepaper to the officer commanding the carbineers, who read andreturned it to him.

"For Peppino!" cried Andrea, who seemed roused from thetorpor in which he had been plunged. "Why for him and notfor me? We ought to die together. I was promised he shoulddie with me. You have no right to put me to death alone. Iwill not die alone - I will not!" And he broke from thepriests struggling and raving like a wild beast, andstriving desperately to break the cords that bound hishands. The executioner made a sign, and his two assistantsleaped from the scaffold and seized him. "What is going on?"asked Franz of the count; for, as all the talk was in theRoman dialect, he had not perfectly understood it. "Do younot see?" returned the count, "that this human creature whois about to die is furious that his fellow-sufferer does notperish with him? and, were he able, he would rather tear himto pieces with his teeth and nails than let him enjoy thelife he himself is about to be deprived of. Oh, man, man - race of crocodiles," cried the count, extending his clinchedhands towards the crowd, "how well do I recognize you there,and that at all times you are worthy of yourselves!"Meanwhile Andrea and the two executioners were struggling onthe ground, and he kept exclaiming, "He ought to die! - heshall die! - I will not die alone!"

"Look, look," cried the count. seizing the young men's hands- "look, for on my soul it is curious. Here is a man whohad resigned himself to his fate, who was going to thescaffold to die - like a coward, it is true, but he wasabout to die without resistance. Do you know what gave himstrength? - do you know what consoled him? It was, thatanother partook of his punishment - that another partook ofhis anguish - that another was to die before him. Lead twosheep to the butcher's, two oxen to the slaughterhouse, andmake one of them understand that his companion will not die;the sheep will bleat for pleasure, the ox will bellow withjoy. But man - man, whom God created in his own image - man, upon whom God has laid his first, his sole commandment,to love his neighbor - man, to whom God has given a voiceto express his thoughts - what is his first cry when hehears his fellow-man is saved? A blasphemy. Honor to man,this masterpiece of nature, this king of the creation!" Andthe count burst into a laugh; a terrible laugh, that showedhe must have suffered horribly to be able thus to laugh.However, the struggle still continued, and it was dreadfulto witness. The people all took part against Andrea, andtwenty thousand voices cried, "Put him to death! put him todeath!" Franz sprang back, but the count seized his arm, andheld him before the window. "What are you doing?" said he."Do you pity him? If you heard the cry of `Mad dog!' youwould take your gun - you would unhesitatingly shoot thepoor beast, who, after all, was only guilty of having beenbitten by another dog. And yet you pity a man who, withoutbeing bitten by one of his race, has yet murdered hisbenefactor; and who, now unable to kill any one, because hishands are bound, wishes to see his companion in captivityperish. No, no - look, look!"

The command was needless. Franz was fascinated by thehorribly spectacle. The two assistants had borne Andrea tothe scaffold, and there, in spite of his struggles, hisbites, and his cries, had forced him to his knees. Duringthis time the executioner had raised his mace, and signed tothem to get out of the way; the criminal strove to rise,but, ere he had time, the mace fell on his left temple. Adull and heavy sound was heard, and the man dropped like anox on his face, and then turned over on his back. Theexecutioner let fall his mace, drew his knife, and with onestroke opened his throat, and mounting on his stomach,stamped violently on it with his feet. At every stroke a jetof blood sprang from the wound.

This time Franz could contain himself no longer, but sank,half fainting, into a seat. Albert, with his eyes closed,was standing grasping the window-curtains. The count waserect and triumphant, like the Avenging Angel!