Chapter 104: The Kidnapping: I
Franz had never experienced such a jarring shift in mood. One moment he’d been surrounded by laughter and celebration, and the next, the city felt like a graveyard.
It was as if some dark force had flipped a switch, plunging Rome into suffocating darkness. The moon wouldn’t rise for hours, and the streets Franz traveled through were pitch black. Within ten minutes, his carriage, or rather, the Count’s carriage, pulled up in front of his hotel.
Dinner was ready and waiting, but since Albert had told him not to expect him back soon, Franz sat down to eat alone. The hotel owner, who was used to seeing them dine together, asked about Albert’s absence. Franz simply explained that his friend had accepted an invitation the night before.
The sudden darkness, the oppressive silence, it all left Franz feeling unsettled. Despite the owner’s attentive service, constantly checking if he needed anything, Franz ate in brooding silence.
He decided to wait up for Albert as long as possible. He ordered a carriage for eleven o’clock and asked the owner to inform him the moment Albert returned.
Eleven came and went. Still no Albert.
Franz got dressed and headed out, telling the owner he’d be spending the night at the Duke of Bracciano’s residence. The Duke’s mansion was one of Rome’s finest, and his wife, one of the last heirs of an old noble family, hosted parties that were famous across Europe.
Franz and Albert had brought letters of introduction, and when Franz arrived, the first thing people asked was where his traveling companion had gone. Franz explained that he’d last seen Albert just as the festival candles were being extinguished, and had lost sight of him in the crowded street.
"So he hasn’t come back?" the Duke asked, concern evident in his voice.
"I waited until now," Franz replied.
"Do you know where he went?"
"Not exactly, but I think it had something to do with meeting someone."
"Damn," the Duke muttered. "This is a bad night to be out late, wouldn’t you say, Countess?"
He addressed a noblewoman who had just arrived on the arm of his brother.
"I think it’s a lovely night," the Countess replied with a smile. "My only complaint is that it’s passing too quickly."
"I’m not talking about the people who are here," the Duke said. "The men here only risk falling in love with you, and the women only risk jealousy at how beautiful you look. I’m talking about people out in the streets of Rome."
"Who would be out in the streets at this hour unless they’re going to a party?" the Countess asked.
"Our friend, Albert," Franz said. "I left him chasing after some mysterious woman around seven this evening, and I haven’t seen him since."
"You don’t know where he is?"
"Not at all."
"Is he armed?"
"He’s wearing a costume."
"You shouldn’t have let him go," the Duke said to Franz. "You know Rome better than he does."
"You might as well try to stop a winning racehorse," Franz replied. "Besides, what could possibly happen to him?"
"Who knows? It’s dark out there, and the river isn’t far from where you last saw him."
Franz felt a chill run down his spine. The Duke and Countess’ concerns matched his own growing unease perfectly.
"I told the hotel I’d be staying here tonight," Franz said, "and asked them to notify me if he returns."
"Ah," the Duke replied, "I think one of my servants is looking for you now."
He was right. A servant approached Franz directly.
"Sir, the hotel owner sent me to tell you that someone is waiting with a letter from Viscount Albert."
"A letter from Albert?" Franz’s heart raced.
"Yes, sir."
"Who’s the messenger?"
"I don’t know."
"Why didn’t he bring it here?"
"He didn’t say."
"Where is he now?"
"He left as soon as he saw me enter the ballroom."
"Oh, go quickly!" the Countess urged Franz. "The poor young man, something might have happened to him!"
"I’ll hurry," Franz said.
"Will you come back to tell us what happened?" the Countess asked.
"Yes, unless it’s something serious. Then I can’t promise anything."
"Be careful," she warned.
"Don’t worry."
Franz grabbed his hat and rushed out. He’d sent his carriage away with instructions to return at two, but fortunately the mansion was only a ten-minute walk from his hotel.
As he neared the hotel, Franz spotted a man standing in the middle of the street. He was certain this was the messenger. The man wore a large cloak wrapped around himself. Franz approached, but to his surprise, the stranger spoke first.
"What do you want from me?" the man asked, stepping back defensively.
"Aren’t you the one who brought me a letter from Viscount Albert?"
"You’re staying at this hotel?"
"I am."
"You’re the Viscount’s traveling companion?"
"Yes."
"Your name is-"
"Baron Franz."
"Then this letter is for you."
"Is there a reply expected?" Franz asked, taking the letter.
"Yes, your friend hopes so, at least."
"Come upstairs with me and I’ll write one."
"I’d rather wait here," the messenger said with a slight smile.
"Why?"
"You’ll understand when you read the letter."
"Will you still be here?"
"Of course."
Franz entered the hotel. On the stairs, he ran into the owner.
"Well?" the owner asked anxiously.
"Well what?"
"You saw the man with the message from your friend?"
"Yes, and he gave me this letter. Please light the candles in my room."
The owner ordered a servant to go ahead with a light. Franz noticed the man looked genuinely alarmed, which only increased his own anxiety. He went straight to the candlelight and unfolded the letter.
It was written and signed by Albert. Franz read it twice before he could process what it said:
My dear friend,
The moment you get this, please take my letter of credit from my desk drawer. Add yours to it if mine isn’t enough. Go to the banker immediately and withdraw four thousand gold pieces. Give them to the messenger. I need this money urgently. I won’t say more, just trust me as I trust you.
Your friend,
Albert
P.S. I now believe in Italian bandits.
Below Albert’s words, in a different handwriting and in Italian, was written:
If the four thousand gold pieces aren’t in my hands by six in the morning, by seven o’clock Count Albert will be dead.
Luigi Vampa
Everything suddenly made sense. Franz understood why the messenger preferred to wait outside, the street was safer for him. Albert had fallen into the hands of the infamous bandit chief whose very existence Albert had refused to believe in.
There was no time to waste.
Franz rushed to open the desk and found the letter of credit. There were six thousand pieces total, but Albert had already spent three thousand. As for Franz, he didn’t even have a letter of credit since he lived in another city and had only come to Rome for a week-long visit. He’d brought about a hundred gold coins and had only fifty left.
They were short by seven or eight hundred pieces.
Of course, he could rely on the banker’s generosity in an emergency. Franz was about to return to the Duke’s mansion when a brilliant idea struck him, the Count of Monte Cristo!
Franz was about to ring for the owner when the man appeared on his own.
"Do you know if the Count is in?" Franz asked urgently.
"Yes, sir, he just returned."
"Is he in bed?"
"I don’t think so."
"Then please ask if I can see him."
The owner did as requested and returned five minutes later. "The Count is waiting for you."
Franz hurried down the corridor. A servant showed him into the Count’s room, a small chamber Franz hadn’t seen before, surrounded by cushioned seats. The Count approached him.
"What brings you here at this hour?" he asked. "Have you come to have dinner with me? That would be very kind."
"No, I need to talk to you about something serious."
"Serious?" The Count looked at Franz with his usual intense gaze. "What is it?"
"Are we alone?"
"Yes," the Count replied, checking the door before returning.
Franz handed him Albert’s letter. "Read this."
The Count read it carefully. "Well, well."
"Did you see the postscript?"
"I did indeed. ’If the four thousand gold pieces aren’t in my hands by six in the morning, by seven o’clock Count Albert will be dead. Luigi Vampa.’"
"What do you think?" Franz asked.
"Do you have the money he’s demanding?"
"All but eight hundred pieces."
The Count walked to his desk, opened it, and pulled out a drawer filled with gold. "I hope you won’t be offended that I’m offering to help."
"On the contrary, you’re the first person I came to," Franz replied.
"And I appreciate that. Take whatever you need." He gestured for Franz to help himself.
"Is it absolutely necessary to send the money to this Luigi Vampa?" Franz asked, studying the Count intently.
"Judge for yourself," the Count replied. "The message is pretty clear."
"I think if you took the time to consider it, you might find a way to simplify this negotiation," Franz suggested.
"How so?" The Count looked surprised.
"If we went together to Luigi Vampa, I’m sure he wouldn’t refuse you Albert’s freedom."
"What influence could I possibly have over a bandit?"
"Haven’t you just done him a service he can never forget?"
"What service?"
"Didn’t you save someone named Peppino’s life?"
"Well, well," the Count said. "Who told you about that?"
"It doesn’t matter. I know about it."
The Count’s brow furrowed, and he fell silent for a moment.
"If I went to find Vampa, would you come with me?"
"If my company wouldn’t bother you."
"Then it’s settled. It’s a beautiful night, and a walk outside Rome will do us both good."
"Should I bring any weapons?"
"What for?"
"Any money?"
"That’s unnecessary. Where’s the messenger?"
"In the street."
"Waiting for an answer?"
"Yes."
"I need to find out where we’re going. I’ll call him up."
"He won’t come."
"Maybe not to your rooms, but he’ll come to mine without hesitation."