ROMAN BANDITS
Danglars sat back in the carriage and thought for a while. Suddenly, as he looked at the countryside, he realised that he was not being taken back to Rome. They were approaching some caves.
'Good heavens!' he said to himself. 'I have another idea. What if they should be......?'
His hair stood on end. He remembered those interesting stories, that no one had believed in Paris, about the bandits of Rome who had captured young Albert Morcerf.
'Perhaps they are robbers,' he muttered.
Just then, the man riding on the right-hand side said something and the carriage stopped. At the same time, the door on the left-hand side was opened.
'Scendi!' said a voice. Danglars quickly descended. Although he did not yet speak Italian, he already seemed to understand it quite well.
The men now led him into the caves, and along many underground passages. The baron did not doubt it any longer. He was in the hands of bandits. After some time the narrow passage opened out into a big cave. A sentinel stopped them at the entrance, but let them pass through when he saw who they were.
Danglars was taken to the chief of the bandits, who was sitting down in the cave, reading a book.
'Is this the man?' asked the bandit chief.
'Yes, captain,' said one of the men who had brought Danglars.
'Let me see him!'
At this order, one of the guards, who was carrying a blazing torch, raised it to Danglars' face, so that his chief might see him better. Danglars jumped back hastily, to avoid having his eyebrows burned. He looked terrified as the light of the torch shone upon him.
'He looks tired,' said the bandit chief. 'Take him to his bed!'
'Oh!oh!' thought Danglars. 'They are going to kill me. My 'bed' will be a grave, I am sure.'
He was taken away, along some more narrow passages, and up some steep steps. Then, a low door opened in front of him. Bending his head, he went into a small room cut out of the rock. He was very surprised to see that he was not going to be killed yet, for there was a bed, made of leaves and goatskins, in the corner and he could lie down on it. The small door was closed and a bolt grated. Danglars was a prisoner.
He remembered again the story that he had heard from Albert Morcerf, after his adventures in Rome, and he was sure that these were the same bandits. Albert's description of the bandit chief exactly described the man he had seen sitting in the big cave, reading a book.
Danglars felt happier. They were not going to kill him. He remembered that they had asked to be paid something like four thousand piastres to set Albert free. Even if they wanted twice that amount this time, eight thousand piastres was forty-eight thousand francs and he had about five million francs in the bank. With all that money he could certainly manage to free himself. Feeling much better, he lay down on the rough bed and went to sleep.
