The Count of Monte Cristo

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presents itself--what if they should be"--

His hair stood on end. He remembered those interesting stories, so
little believed in Paris, respecting Roman bandits; he remembered the
adventures that Albert de Morcerf had related when it was intended that
he should marry Mademoiselle Eugenie. "They are robbers, perhaps," he
muttered. Just then the carriage rolled on something harder than gravel
road. Danglars hazarded a look on both sides of the road, and perceived
monuments of a singular form, and his mind now recalled all the details
Morcerf had related, and comparing them with his own situation, he
felt sure that he must be on the Appian Way. On the left, in a sort of
valley, he perceived a circular excavation. It was Caracalla's circus.
On a word from the man who rode at the side of the carriage, it stopped.
At the same time the door was opened. "Scendi!" exclaimed a commanding
voice. Danglars instantly descended; although he did not yet speak
Italian, he understood it very well. More dead than alive, he looked
around him. Four men surrounded him, besides the postilion.