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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume I (of 2), by
+Alexandre Dumas père
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume I (of 2)
+
+
+Author: Alexandre Dumas père
+
+
+
+Release Date: July 7, 2007  [eBook #22018]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO, VOLUME I
+(OF 2)***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Juergen Lohnert, Martin Pettit, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+   Obvious typographical errors have been corrected, and
+   inconsistent spelling has been made consistent.
+
+   This volume does not have any illustrations.
+
+
+
+
+
+The Works of Alexandre Dumas in Thirty Volumes
+
+THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO
+
+VOLUME ONE
+
+Illustrated with Drawings on Wood by
+Eminent French and American Artists
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Publisher's logo]
+
+New York
+P. F. Collier and Son
+MCMIV
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+      I. A MARRIAGE CONTRACT AND ITS END           3
+
+     II. A CALM BRIDE                              8
+
+    III. A FAMILY TRAGEDY                         13
+
+     IV. A PECULIAR TRIAL                         16
+
+      V. THE RESULT OF THE CATASTROPHE            20
+
+     VI. BENEDETTO, THE MURDERER                  23
+
+    VII. A MIRACLE                                29
+
+   VIII. THE SENTENCE OF DEATH                    35
+
+     IX. THE EDITORIAL ROOMS                      43
+
+      X. PONTOON NO. 2                            50
+
+     XI. THE DEAD LIVE                            55
+
+    XII. THE CONFESSION                           59
+
+   XIII. FORGIVENESS                              72
+
+    XIV. THE RAT-KING                             78
+
+     XV. IN THE BAGNIO                            88
+
+    XVI. THE ESCAPE                               94
+
+   XVII. IN THE MOUNTAIN PASS OF OLIOLLES         98
+
+  XVIII. THE MOTHER                              107
+
+    XIX. ON THE SEA                              111
+
+     XX. MONTE-CRISTO                            116
+
+    XXI. WITH THE PANDURS                        127
+
+   XXII. THE QUEEN OF FLOWERS                    132
+
+  XXIII. GREEN, WHITE AND RED                    138
+
+   XXIV. A FIGHT IN THE STREETS                  150
+
+    XXV. THE MASKS FALL                          152
+
+   XXVI. LOVE OF COUNTRY                         156
+
+  XXVII. SHADOWS OF THE PAST                     160
+
+ XXVIII. THE CONSPIRATORS                        164
+
+   XXIX. FATHER AND SON                          168
+
+    XXX. IN THE WELL                             178
+
+   XXXI. SPERO                                   186
+
+  XXXII. ECARTE                                  194
+
+ XXXIII. FORWARD!                                198
+
+  XXXIV. SERGEANT COUCOU                         204
+
+   XXXV. MISS CLARY                              207
+
+  XXXVI. A MOTHER                                215
+
+ XXXVII. THE RING                                218
+
+XXXVIII. "SEARCH FOR THE WIFE!"                  226
+
+  XXXIX. DEPEND ONLY ON YOURSELF                 233
+
+     XL. THE SACRIFICE                           240
+
+    XLI. HOW AND WHERE COUCOU TOOK LEAVE         249
+
+   XLII. IN THE SPIDER'S WEB                     263
+
+  XLIII. MANUELITA                               273
+
+   XLIV. THE HUMORS OF A LADY-MILLIONNAIRE       291
+
+    XLV. MALDAR                                  305
+
+   XLVI. MISS CLARY'S SECRET                     310
+
+  XLVII. AN AMERICAN WAGER                       314
+
+ XLVIII. THE WEDDING BREAKFAST                   325
+
+   XLIX. MALDAR'S FAREWELL                       331
+
+      L. THE HOLY SIGNAL                         336
+
+     LI. UARGLA                                  340
+
+    LII. CAPTAIN JOLIETTE                        342
+
+   LIII. THE LION IN CONFLICT WITH THE LION      345
+
+    LIV. MEDJE                                   352
+
+     LV. "DO NOT DIE, CAPTAIN!"                  363
+
+    LVI. THE FLIGHT                              368
+
+   LVII. AT THE FOOT OF THE KIOBEH               370
+
+  LVIII. MONTE-CRISTO BECOMES EDMOND DANTES      374
+
+    LIX. EDMOND DANTES                           377
+
+     LX. SECRETS                                 381
+
+
+
+
+THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+A MARRIAGE CONTRACT AND ITS END
+
+
+In the month of July of the year 1829, a man created a great sensation
+in Paris, and even attracted the attention of the lions of society.
+Where he came from--who he was--what was his past life--none knew; and
+the mystery surrounding him only tended to make the hero of the season
+more interesting.
+
+The Count of Monte-Cristo, from Italy--from Malta--no one knew
+whence--had unlimited credit with the banking house of Danglars, one of
+the largest in Paris; owned the finest mansion--a superb villa--at
+Auteuil, and the handsomest turnout on the road, which he presented to a
+banker's wife, without letting any one know his reason for doing so; all
+this was sufficient to make him the central point around which revolved
+the social gossip of the day. But, besides this, the handsome stranger
+makes his appearance at the theatres in the company of a lady in Grecian
+dress, whose transcendent beauty and countless diamonds awake alike
+admiration and cupidity. Like moths around the flame, society flutters
+about the legendary count, and it is principally the golden youth who
+find in him their centre of attraction. Among the latter were more
+especially Albert Morcerf, the son of a general, Debray, a young and
+talented attache at the Foreign Office, Beauchamp, and Chateau-Renaud,
+who served as the asteroids of the new star in the Parisian sky.
+
+Sometimes they were joined at those famous dinners which only a
+Monte-Cristo understood how to give, by a Count Andrea Cavalcanti, who
+at first appeared there with his father, Major Cavalcanti. Although he
+was a stranger, he was received in society through his acquaintance with
+Monte-Cristo and with Baron Danglars, in whose banking house he had a
+large sum on deposit.
+
+The young count, a perfect Apollo, with classically-cut features, did
+not fail to produce an impression upon Eugenie, a proud, black-eyed
+brunette, the only daughter of the millionnaire Danglars; and as the
+millions of the father, in conjunction with the peculiar beauty of the
+daughter, began to interest the count, it was not long before they
+thought of marriage. Danglars, who had been a heavy loser in certain
+speculations of which the public was ignorant, hoped to rehabilitate
+himself with the millions of his prospective son-in-law, and therefore
+there was nothing to prevent the marriage of the proud Eugenie and the
+handsome Andrea.
+
+One July evening, representatives of the high financial society, and a
+few members of the aristocracy, were invited to Danglars' house to
+witness the signing of the marriage contract of the only daughter of the
+house with the Italian, Count Andrea Cavalcanti, of the princely house
+of Cavalcanti. At five o'clock, when the guests arrived, they found all
+the rooms in the mansion brilliant with wax-lights.
+
+The bride was simply yet tastefully attired: a white satin dress
+trimmed with lace of the same color; a single white rose, which was half
+hidden in her raven black hair, formed the only ornament of the young
+lady, whose jewels, it was well known, represented a fortune. The young
+count was surrounded by representatives of the gilded youth, who give
+the tone in the Jockey Club, and are the recognized authorities for all
+Europe in questions of taste, fashion, and sport.
+
+Baron Danglars was the centre of a group of bankers, to whom he
+developed his celebrated projects which had increased his millions,
+taking good care, however, not to mention his losses. Madame Danglars,
+the handsome mother of the pretty Eugenie, was surrounded by a circle of
+young and old cavaliers, who paid court to her with the greatest
+ceremony, and whose adorations were accepted by the lady as a tribute
+due her, although it could not be denied that she favored the young
+attache Debray.
+
+The lawyers were already there, yet the ceremony appeared to be
+purposely delayed, as if they were waiting for the arrival of a missing
+guest. And this was indeed the case.
+
+When the footman announced the Count of Monte-Cristo a stir was created
+among the guests. The star of the evening was overwhelmed with
+questions, which he paid no attention to, but quietly busied himself
+with the three representatives of the Danglars family.
+
+The way he observed the young Count Cavalcanti was very strange, though
+very few noticed it, as the Count of Monte-Cristo was relating a robbery
+which had been committed in his house, in which one of the thieves had
+been murdered, most probably by his own comrade. No one noticed the
+pallor of Count Cavalcanti, as they were too much interested in
+Monte-Cristo's story. When he had finished, the ceremony was proceeded
+with.
+
+The marriage contract between Mademoiselle Eugenie and Count Andrea
+Cavalcanti was read, the millions mentioned therein causing a sensation
+even among the cream of the financial and aristocratic world, and the
+signing of the paper was next in order. This circumstance recalled to
+Madame Danglars the absence of a friend of the house, the procureur du
+roi Villefort, and she asked Monte-Cristo whether he knew where he was.
+
+"I am indirectly the cause of the absence of the procureur du roi," said
+the count, as if to apologize. "The man who was murdered in my house was
+recognized as a former galley-slave named Caderousse, and a letter was
+found in his pocket which bore a remarkable address."
+
+Every one crowded around the count, while the young bridegroom slowly
+walked toward a neighboring room.
+
+"Could you tell us the address?" asked Madame Danglars.
+
+"Certainly," replied the count. "You will all laugh over it. It was none
+other than that of the hero of our reunion to-night--Count Andrea
+Cavalcanti."
+
+The surprised guests turned around as if to exact an explanation from
+the latter. He had, however, already left the room. The servants were
+searching all over the house for him, when a new commotion was heard.
+
+The dazed servants returned from their search, and behind them appeared
+a detective accompanied by several policemen.
+
+"I am looking for a man named Andrea Cavalcanti," said the detective,
+in the well-known monotonous way which never fails to make an impression
+even upon those who are not principals.
+
+"By what right?" asked Danglars, who could not suppress his uneasiness.
+
+"Andrea Cavalcanti is charged with having murdered the galley-slave
+Caderousse, with whom he was formerly chained in the galleys."
+
+Like lightning from a clear sky this announcement fell upon the
+aristocratic assembly. Madame Danglars fainted, the policemen searched
+the house, but could not find the culprit, the guests ran here and there
+like a flock of sheep surprised by a fox, the servants stood motionless
+with dazed faces, consternation and confusion reigned supreme.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+A CALM BRIDE
+
+
+No one among all the company in Danglars' house possessed their
+self-possession so much as just the one who was the least expected to do
+so.
+
+Two days after the catastrophe, when Eugenie's most intimate friend, the
+music teacher, Louise d'Armilly, came to condole with her, the proud
+daughter of the banker repulsed her with a disdainful laugh.
+
+"I am not made for marriage," she said; "at first I was engaged to
+Monsieur de Morcerf, whose father shot himself a few days ago, in a fit
+of remorse at having acquired his wealth by dishonorable means; then I
+was to be married to Prince Cavalcanti, to add to the millions which my
+father possesses, or which he perhaps does not call his own, the
+imaginary wealth of a--jail-bird."
+
+"What should be done now?" asked her modest friend in an anxious tone.
+
+"Fate shows my path," answered Eugenie, firmly. "I am not intended to
+become the slave of a hypocritical and egotistical man. You are aware
+that my inclination pushes me toward the stage, where my voice, my
+beauty, and my independent spirit will assure me success. The time has
+now arrived when I must decide: here, the scandal and contempt of the
+crowd; there, applause, fame, and honor. I foresaw it all, though I did
+not think it would come in such a shameful way. I have fifty thousand
+francs pin-money, and my jewels are worth as much more. Order a
+carriage; I have passports for both of us; in an hour we depart for
+Belgium."
+
+Louise listened to her friend speechless with astonishment; although she
+knew the firmness of her character, she was not prepared for so much
+independence.
+
+"But we two girls alone," she hesitatingly said, "cannot--"
+
+"I have looked out for that, too," replied Eugenie, calmly; "the
+passport is made out in the name of Monsieur Leon d'Armilly and sister;
+while you go for the carriage I will pack the trunks, and change myself
+into Monsieur Leon d'Armilly."
+
+Louise mechanically left the room to order the carriage to come to
+Danglars' house. When she came back an elegant young man stood near the
+trunks, whom no one would have recognized at the first glance as the
+proud and courted beauty, Eugenie Danglars. With great difficulty the
+two girls carried the trunk through a side door of the house and
+deposited it at the next street corner. There the coachman awaited them,
+and in a quarter of an hour they had left Paris.
+
+Let us now return to Prince Cavalcanti, _alias_ Benedetto, the hero of
+the interrupted party at the banker Danglars' house.
+
+With that cunning peculiar to criminals who scent danger from afar, he
+had made his exit at the right time. After he had pocketed the diamonds
+which formed a part of Eugenie's _trousseau_, and which were exposed in
+the parlor, he scaled the window, slipped an overcoat over his dress,
+and made his way out of the house. In thirty minutes he reached an
+out-of-the-way suburb of Paris. Without losing a minute of his precious
+time, he took a carriage, and left the city under the pretence of having
+to catch a friend, who had departed for the chase on the previous day.
+The big tip he gave the driver spurred the latter on, and at the end of
+an hour Benedetto found himself at Loures, where he discharged his
+driver, saying that he would spend the night there.
+
+Benedetto now formed a decisive plan. He did not remain in Loures, but
+went on foot to Chapelle-en-Serval, a mile distant, where he arrived
+covered with dirt and dust, and entered the nearest inn, telling the
+host that he had fallen from his horse. "If you could get me a coach or
+a horse, so that I could return to Compiegne, I would be very grateful
+to you."
+
+The host really had a horse at his disposal, and in a quarter of an hour
+Benedetto, accompanied by the host's son, was on the road to Compiegne,
+which he reached about midnight. After he had discharged the boy at the
+market-place of the little city, he went to the inn called the Bell and
+Bottle, which he had patronized in former times, and to which he was
+admitted now.
+
+After Benedetto had eaten a hearty supper, he inquired if he could get a
+room on the ground floor, but was forced to accept one on the first
+story, as the other had been taken by a young man who had just arrived
+with his sister.
+
+The hunted culprit was so tired out by his exertions that he fell into
+a deep sleep, and did not wake up early next morning, as he had
+intended, but at nine o'clock. Struck by an indescribable fear, he
+quickly dressed himself and peered through the window blinds. He
+recoiled in terror, for his first glance had fallen upon two policemen
+who leaned against the doors with their guns in their hands. His first
+thoughts were that he was followed and was lost. He quickly collected
+himself, suppressed his excitement, and seizing a piece of paper,
+scribbled these words on it with a lead pencil:
+
+"I have no money, but do not desire to owe anything. The inclosed
+diamond pin will fully pay for my bill. I was ashamed to acknowledge
+this, and therefore left at five o'clock."
+
+After he had attached the pin to the paper, he opened the door and
+crawled up the chimney with the agility of a chimney-sweep. Here,
+however, the difficulty was to continue his way without being perceived
+by any one. He therefore returned and entered another chimney, intending
+to wait there until all danger was over. He already began to think
+himself saved, when he lost his balance and crashed with a loud noise
+through the opening and into a room which was occupied, as was betrayed
+by a sudden scream.
+
+A young man and a lady were in the room. The latter had uttered the cry,
+while the former pulled vigorously at the bell-rope.
+
+"Rescue me--hide me!" were the first words the villain spoke. He was
+about to say more, but the words stuck in his throat, for he had
+recognized the young man as Eugenie Danglars.
+
+"Andrea, the murderer!" exclaimed the two women.
+
+"Have mercy! rescue me!" implored Benedetto.
+
+"It is too late," replied Eugenie, "the door is being opened."
+
+At the same moment, the policemen, followed by the whole inn staff,
+entered the room. Benedetto saw he was lost. He pulled out a dagger, as
+if he wished to attack his captors, but desisted when he saw it would be
+fruitless.
+
+"Kill yourself!" exclaimed Eugenie, with the accent of a tragedy queen.
+
+"Bah!" replied Benedetto, "it is too early yet; the whole thing is a
+misunderstanding, and I have friends."
+
+With great coolness he held out his hands to the policemen, who put
+handcuffs on them.
+
+"Give my regards to your father, Mademoiselle Danglars, and do not be
+ashamed. You are my bride, and we ought to have been man and wife
+to-day," said Benedetto, sarcastically, as he left the room with the
+policemen, leaving Eugenie exposed to the curious and contemptuous
+glances of the waiters.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+A FAMILY TRAGEDY
+
+
+The procureur du roi, Villefort, was one of the most respected and
+influential men in Paris, and his reputation as district-attorney was
+spotless. Married the second time to a handsome and refined lady,
+Monsieur de Villefort spent his leisure time in the society of his wife,
+a grown daughter by his first marriage, named Valentine, his little son,
+Edouard, presented to him by his second wife, and his old father,
+Noirtier de Villefort, in an elegant mansion in the Faubourg St. Honore.
+The only grief he had was the condition of his father, who had been
+stricken with paralysis, which had not only robbed him of the use of his
+limbs, but of his speech too. The old man could only make himself
+understood by his beloved grandchild Valentine, and by a faithful
+servant named Barrois, by the rising and falling of his eyelids.
+
+In the house of this immensely respected man, certain things had
+happened within a few months which attracted general attention, though
+no one could explain them. The parents of the deceased Madame de
+Villefort, who had been staying at their son-in-law's house on a visit,
+had died suddenly one after the other, the doctors being unable to
+assign any other cause for their deaths than apoplexy. These facts would
+not have caused any talk, since the two persons who had died were both
+very old, had they not been followed almost immediately by the deaths of
+the old servant of Monsieur Noirtier and of Valentine, the blooming
+daughter of the procureur du roi, and the bride of a young officer named
+Morrel, under circumstances which looked very much like poisoning.
+
+It was a terrible time for Monsieur de Villefort, who saw himself
+obliged, in his official capacity, to investigate his own household.
+After long observation, he had a terrible suspicion, which was confirmed
+by a hundred little things, that his own wife was the four-times
+murderess!
+
+The reasons which actuated her to commit these terrible crimes were very
+clear. Valentine, the step-daughter, possessed a large fortune which she
+had inherited from her dead mother; she was the sole heiress of the
+grandparents who had died so suddenly; upon the death of Valentine all
+her wealth would revert to Monsieur de Villefort, and his sole heir
+would be his son.
+
+Villefort, the husband, struggled terribly with Villefort, the
+district-attorney; he tried to ward off the guilt from his wife, but his
+efforts were fruitless. It was the same day on which the sensational
+case of Prince Cavalcanti, _alias_ Benedetto, was before the Court of
+Special Sessions, and Monsieur de Villefort was forced to attend the
+sitting in his official capacity as district-attorney. Before he went he
+sent for his wife, who wished to attend the trial of a case which caused
+great excitement all over Paris.
+
+Madame de Villefort came to his room fully dressed for the street,
+being under the impression that her husband would ask her to accompany
+him to the court-house. She trembled, however, when she noticed his
+face, which was torn by conflicting passions.
+
+"Where do you get the poison from, madame, which you are in the habit of
+using?" asked the procureur du roi, in a tone of command.
+
+Madame de Villefort turned deathly pale.
+
+"I do not understand what you mean," she stammered.
+
+"I mean," said the man of the law, "where do you keep the poison with
+which you murdered my parents-in-law, Barrois, and my daughter,
+Valentine?"
+
+Stunned by this terrible charge Madame de Villefort fell to the floor;
+she no longer dared to deny the accusation, and was oppressed by a
+feeling of deep despair.
+
+"Every crime, madame," continued the procureur du roi, "has its penalty;
+yours will be the scaffold. This expiation, however, would be as
+terrible for me as for you. Fate has left you to pay for your deeds by
+your own hand. You have, perhaps, still a few drops of poison left,
+which will save both you and me the scandal of a public hanging. I am
+going to the court-house, and I hope that when I return you will have
+expiated your crimes."
+
+With a cry, the unhappy woman became unconscious, while Monsieur de
+Villefort, hardly able to collect his thoughts, left the room and rode
+to attend the Cavalcanti-Benedetto case.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A PECULIAR TRIAL
+
+
+All Paris was excited over the case of the handsome Andrea Cavalcanti,
+who was to descend from the heights of society into the depths of the
+criminal world. The lion of the day was to change himself into a common
+convict.
+
+Large sums of money were paid for seats in the court-house, and long
+before the proceedings began every seat in the room was occupied by
+representatives of the most aristocratic families.
+
+After the usual preliminaries, the judge, the jury, and the
+district-attorney took their places. Upon an order from the judge the
+policemen brought in the prisoner. Instead of a man borne down by shame,
+Cavalcanti showed himself to the crowd dressed in a ball suit, his face
+beaming with good humor.
+
+The complaint was read without making the slightest impression upon the
+prisoner, who sat on his seat with the same ease and grace as he did,
+but a few days before, in the famous restaurant The Golden House.
+
+"Prisoner," said the judge, "stand up and answer the questions I shall
+put to you. What is your full name?"
+
+"I am very sorry," replied Andrea, without the slightest embarrassment,
+"that I am unable to answer the question just now; you can continue,
+however, and later on I will take an opportunity to give you information
+about the matter."
+
+The people were dazed at the audacity of the prisoner.
+
+"How old are you?" continued the judge.
+
+"I was born on the night between the 27th and the 28th of September,
+1807, at Auteuil, near Paris."
+
+"What is your business?"
+
+"I never bothered about the usual trades of the general run of people. I
+was first a counterfeiter, then a thief, and afterward committed my
+first murder."
+
+A storm of anger ran through the assembly, even the judge and the jury
+could not suppress their loathing at the unheard of cynicism of the
+prisoner.
+
+"Are you going to give your name now?" asked the judge.
+
+"I am not able to give you my own name, but I know that of my father."
+
+"Name it, then."
+
+"My father is a district-attorney," continued the prisoner with great
+calmness, glancing at Monsieur de Villefort, who turned deathly pale.
+
+"District-attorney?" exclaimed the judge, greatly astonished. "And his
+name is?"
+
+"His name is Monsieur de Villefort, and he is sitting in front of you."
+
+"You are fooling with the court," said the judge angrily. "I warn you
+for the last time and command you to tell the truth."
+
+"I am speaking the truth," replied the prisoner, "and can prove it.
+Listen, and then judge. I was born on the first floor of the house No.
+28 Rue de la Fontaine, at Auteuil, on the night of the 27th to the 28th
+of September, 1807. My father, Monsieur de Villefort, told my mother I
+was dead, wrapped me in a napkin marked H. 15, put me in a small box and
+buried me alive in the garden of the house. At the same moment he
+received a thrust in the side with a knife held by a person who was
+concealed, and he sank to the ground unconscious. The man who attacked
+my father dug out the box which had been buried, and which he supposed
+contained money, and thereby saved my life. He brought me to the
+foundling asylum, where I was inscribed as No. 37. Three months later I
+was taken from the asylum by the sister-in-law of the man, who was a
+Corsican, and brought me to Corsica, where I was brought up, and in
+spite of the care of my foster-parents acquired vices which steeped me
+in crime."
+
+"And who was your mother?" asked the judge.
+
+"My mother thought I was dead; I am a child of sin; I do not know my
+mother and do not wish to know her."
+
+A cry rang through the court-room at this point; a lady had fainted, and
+was carried out of the hall by several bystanders.
+
+At this cry the procureur du roi arose, and showed his ghastly face to
+the crowd.
+
+"How are you going to prove these astounding revelations?" asked the
+judge of the prisoner.
+
+With a malicious look the latter pointed to Monsieur de Villefort.
+
+"Father, they wish to have proofs; do you also want me to give them?"
+
+"No, it is unnecessary; everything you have said is true. I resign my
+office, and desire the court to appoint my successor as procureur du
+roi," said Monsieur de Villefort, in a faint voice.
+
+"What!" exclaimed the judge, "you, a man whose character is above
+suspicion, allow yourself to be intimidated by the crazy declarations of
+a criminal! Collect yourself, and crush the malicious accusations with a
+word."
+
+Villefort shook his head. With trembling limbs he left the court-room a
+broken-down man. The crowd respectfully made way for him, the extent of
+his misfortune making a deep impression upon all hearts.
+
+"The court is adjourned until further notice," said the judge.
+"Policemen, take your prisoner back to jail."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE RESULT OF THE CATASTROPHE
+
+
+On the 14th day of January, 1830, three months after the incidents
+related in the last chapter, Benedetto's trial was again before the
+Court of Special Sessions. Then, as now, life beat rapidly in Paris, one
+important thing followed the other, and it came about that the affair of
+the handsome "Prince Cavalcanti" was in danger of being tried before an
+audience consisting only of lawyers and policemen.
+
+The weather was miserable. The snow fell in thick flakes, and the cold
+was so penetrating that it became impossible to remain long out of
+doors.
+
+It was about eleven o'clock in the morning when an elegant carriage
+stopped in front of the court-house. A gentleman stepped out, and was
+about to ascend the broad steps of the building, when he suddenly stood
+still. He clapped his monocle to his eye, and loudly exclaimed:
+
+"Ah, Chateau-Renaud!"
+
+"Beauchamp," came back the answer; and the two friends cordially shook
+hands.
+
+"Really," said Chateau-Renaud, laughing, "I must be grateful to chance,
+which threw me in your way."
+
+"What brings you here?"
+
+"The trial of his highness Prince Benedetto de Cavalcanti, of course."
+
+"I'm here for the same reason. I also wish to see the concluding act of
+the drama which has interested Paris so long. Do you think the poor
+devil has a chance of escaping the hangman's noose?"
+
+"Hardly--but here we are. Why, the hall is about empty," exclaimed
+Beauchamp, wonderingly.
+
+"Does that astonish you? Paris has always been ungrateful, and has long
+since forgotten that the Benedetto affair was once an important topic,"
+replied Chateau-Renaud in a tone of indifference.
+
+"Perhaps the trial has been postponed," said the journalist, and turning
+to a reporter of his acquaintance, he hurriedly asked: "Does Benedetto's
+trial take place to-day?"
+
+"Benedetto's trial," answered the reporter, musingly: "ah, yes, now I
+know--the murder in Monte-Cristo's garden, and, if my memory is right, I
+believe the murderer pretends that he is the son of the procureur du
+roi, Monsieur de Villefort."
+
+"Perfectly right; you have an enviable memory," laughingly said
+Beauchamp. "Well, does the trial take place?"
+
+"Certainly, it's the third day of the case."
+
+"Thank you. We can get some refreshments now and pass the time until the
+Benedetto case comes up," said Chateau-Renaud.
+
+"If you desire to attend the trial, I will inform you when it's time,"
+said the reporter, politely.
+
+"You are very kind," answered Beauchamp, as he departed with his friend.
+
+As they were leaving the corridor, Beauchamp nudged his companion
+lightly.
+
+"Every one is not so ungrateful as to forget Benedetto. Debray is here
+too."
+
+"Why not?" said Chateau-Renaud. "Debray has plenty of time to himself
+since the Ministry was overturned and carried a poor _attache_ along
+with it in its fall."
+
+"Well, he rescued his millions anyway," replied Beauchamp,
+indifferently, "Though, come to think of it," he continued maliciously,
+"it is quite natural for Debray to interest himself in Benedetto--the
+latter was half and half his son-in-law."
+
+"Oh, Beauchamp, you are cynical; the relationship reminds one of a
+morganatic marriage," Chateau-Renaud laughingly interposed.
+
+"By the way, has anything new been found out about the Baroness
+Danglars?"
+
+"H'm--they say she has disappeared."
+
+"And her good, honest husband?"
+
+"Is knocking about somewhere. God only knows."
+
+"Well, I must say there is nothing like Parisian life. The house of
+Danglars breaks. Father and mother Danglars disappear, in consequence of
+which Debray is without his flame; and the daughter--is anything known
+of her? To my taste, she was the best of the lot."
+
+"Mademoiselle d'Armilly undoubtedly knows where she is--they were
+inseparable companions. They will come to the surface again; from what I
+know of Mademoiselle Danglars, she has about as much talent for singing
+as a lioness."
+
+"A beautiful constellation. What became of Monsieur de Villefort?"
+
+"He is an incurable maniac, and is in Dr. d'Avigny's private asylum."
+
+"Not a bad business for the old gentleman. The house of Villefort has
+had a terrible end. Madame de Villefort and her son are dead, and poor
+Valentine--I am not generally sentimental, but I confess the death of
+the young girl was a terrible shock to me."
+
+"Beauchamp, do you believe in miracles?" asked Chateau-Renaud, suddenly.
+
+"That depends. Why do you ask?"
+
+"Well, one of my friends gave me his word of honor that he saw
+Mademoiselle Valentine in Marseilles."
+
+"Before or after the funeral?"
+
+"After, certainly."
+
+"That seems rather wonderful, but one is already accustomed to look upon
+everything with which the Count of Monte-Cristo has any connection as
+something miraculous."
+
+"Have you heard the fable that the count was a vampire?"
+
+"Who could have said such a thing? What is old Noirtier doing?"
+
+"He has gone to the South; and the Morcerf family--"
+
+"Well, what of them?"
+
+"Nothing new. The father a suicide, the son in Africa, and the mother
+has disappeared."
+
+"Just like Baroness Danglars."
+
+"Yes, only with this difference, that Madame de Morcerf and her son gave
+their whole fortune to the poor."
+
+"I am glad for the poor--I--"
+
+"The Benedetto affair is now on," broke in the voice of the reporter,
+interrupting their conversation.
+
+"Ah--thank you." And with this they all entered the court-room.
+
+"Beauchamp," whispered Chateau-Renaud, pointing to a veiled lady who sat
+near them, "if I wasn't sure that the Baroness Dangl--"
+
+"Hush! Do not mention any names. I think you are right, but I cannot
+understand why she comes in such disreputable company."
+
+The lady spoken about, heavily veiled, held her head on her hand and
+awaited the beginning of the case. Her companion, a thin, yellow,
+dried-up old man, whose bald head in form and color recalled a ripe
+melon, sat as straight as a stick, and kept his eyes on the crucifix
+opposite him.
+
+"Bring in the prisoner," ordered the judge.
+
+A shudder ran through the lady, but she did not look up as Benedetto
+entered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+BENEDETTO, THE MURDERER
+
+
+In the meantime the room had become almost filled, as a death sentence
+would probably be given. Almost half the spectators were ladies. A
+murmur of curiosity ran about the room, and many who were present
+remembered the moment in the former sitting when the prisoner, with the
+air of a stage hero, let fall the weighty words: "My father is the royal
+district-attorney, Monsieur Villefort." Unconsciously all eyes were
+turned to the ministerial box, as if hoping to encounter the pale,
+confused face of the all-powerful judge, who had himself been judged,
+but only the substitute of the procureur was seen.
+
+Benedetto now entered. Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud could hardly
+restrain their astonishment, for very seldom has a man changed so much
+in three months. When they had seen Cavalcanti Benedetto last, he was
+the type of a parlor hero, and fascinated every one by his pleasing
+appearance; but the man who stood now before the judge was another--a
+broken-down man.
+
+His curly hair had been shaved close to the skin, his eyes, which had
+formerly sparkled with life, were now dim. The small, finely formed
+hands were meekly crossed over the breast, and even the prisoner's
+clothes harmonized with his general appearance.
+
+A policeman gruffly showed him to his seat. Benedetto bowed deeply, and
+sat on the edge of the hard wooden bench.
+
+The prisoner's lawyer, a celebrated advocate, bent down and whispered a
+few encouraging words to him. Benedetto listened attentively to them and
+murmured half aloud:
+
+"May God have mercy on me."
+
+"And the devil, too," whispered Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud. "Benedetto
+has become a howling coward. It's a great pity!"
+
+The judge beckoned to the actuary and ordered him to read the
+indictment. It was short and compact; it recited the murder of
+Caderousse, the robbery in the Count of Monte-Cristo's house, the
+revelations made by the prisoner with regard to M. de Villefort, the
+latter's confession, his insanity, and finally the suicide of his wife.
+
+"Prisoner, stand up!" said the judge, in a soft voice, "and tell me your
+name."
+
+"Benedetto," replied the former bandit in a modest, almost frightened
+voice.
+
+"Are you guilty of the murder of Caderousse?"
+
+"Judge," stammered Benedetto, "I must acknowledge my guilt." And burying
+his face in his hands, he tried to suppress his sobs.
+
+"What kind of a comedy is the rascal playing?" grumbled Beauchamp.
+
+"Hush!" replied Chateau-Renaud, "the proceedings are becoming
+interesting."
+
+Benedetto answered all questions put to him without hesitation.
+
+"I know," he said, "I am a great sinner, and bow to the justice of the
+people, as I do to the justice of God."
+
+The duty of the jury was thus rendered easy, the murder was
+acknowledged, the antecedents of the prisoner were very bad, and the
+counterfeiter and murderer was as good as convicted at this stage of the
+proceedings.
+
+"Call the witnesses," said the judge.
+
+"Count of Monte-Cristo," cried the clerk.
+
+No one answered.
+
+"It is singular," said the judge, "that Monsieur de Monte-Cristo" (he
+purposely left out the title of count), "who is interested in this
+trial, has refused to obey the order of the court. Has he received a
+subpoena?"
+
+The assistant district-attorney looked over his papers.
+
+"The gentleman named," he said, with a malicious twirl of his lips, "has
+sold his property in France and has disappeared, no one knows where."
+
+"Call the other witnesses," said the judge; "we shall attend to Monsieur
+de Monte-Cristo's case later on."
+
+The other witnesses, mainly people who had come to Caderousse's
+assistance when he had called for help, were not slow in coming forward.
+Their testimony was short and precise. They confirmed the fact of
+Caderousse's being found with a knife in his heart.
+
+"Have you anything to say, prisoner?" asked the judge.
+
+"No, sir, these honest people unfortunately tell the truth," said
+Benedetto, meekly.
+
+A murmur of applause ran round the room. When all was calm again the
+clerk exclaimed:
+
+"Monsieur Noirtier de Villefort!"
+
+"What!" exclaimed Beauchamp, springing up, as if electrified, "are they
+going to be so cruel as to make this unfortunate man testify again?"
+
+"Gentlemen of the jury," said the judge, as if in answer to Beauchamp's
+question, "we have thought it necessary to call Monsieur de Villefort,
+although in the present state of his health there is little chance of
+his being able to clear up those points which are still obscure."
+
+Deep silence reigned--the door was opened, and Monsieur de Villefort
+appeared on the threshold.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A MIRACLE
+
+
+The Count of Monte-Cristo had indeed left Paris shortly after the first
+sitting of the Benedetto case had been so strangely interrupted. In his
+company was the young officer, Maximilian Morrel, who was so shocked at
+the death of his beloved Valentine as not to be any longer recognizable
+as the gay young officer who, with Chateau-Renaud, Beauchamp and Debray
+formed the leading cavaliers of the capital. A sympathy, which he could
+not account for himself, brought Morrel into a bond of friendship with
+the Count of Monte-Cristo, and he told him of his love for Valentine de
+Villefort and his grief at the sudden death of his idol.
+
+But even Monte-Cristo's consolations brought no relief to the young man,
+and he resolved to put an end to his life, so as to be joined at least
+in death with his cherished darling.
+
+He had already written the letter, the weapon lay on his table, when he
+was disturbed by an unwelcome visit from the Count of Monte-Cristo.
+
+"What were you going to do, Maximilian?" asked Monte-Cristo, sternly.
+
+"The one thing which is left to an unfortunate who has been robbed of
+the one most dear to him on earth," the young man replied, in a tone of
+resignation.
+
+"I understand you; he who has known Valentine as I have could readily
+excuse the abominable step you were about to take."
+
+"And do you not approve of it?" asked the young man, in a tone of
+astonishment.
+
+"That depends on circumstances; these circumstances are, however, not
+yet here, much as you may wonder. I make you the following proposition:
+If, at the end of a month, you do not declare that you regard this
+suicide as a crime against yourself and all those dear to you, then I
+will give you a powder which will put an end to your life without
+leaving such ugly traces as that pistol on your desk."
+
+"If you can wake the dead, then you can help me. But this miraculous
+power I do not believe even you have. Nevertheless, I have never refused
+you a favor, and accede to your request, on condition that you promise
+not to make any new attempts to prevent me from carrying out my design."
+
+"Accepted," said the count, as he stretched out his hand affectionately
+toward the young man, who grasped it without hesitation.
+
+"To-day a month," he continued, "I shall await you on the island of
+Monte-Cristo."
+
+With these words Monte-Cristo left his friend.
+
+Maximilian remained true to his word. Five days before the expiration of
+the fateful month he went from Paris to Marseilles and embarked from
+there on one of the yachts belonging to the count for the little island
+of Monte-Cristo, which he reached on the appointed day. Ali, the black
+servant of the count, met him on the wharf and conducted him to the
+count's apartments.
+
+"Here I am, count, to receive the powder from your hands which will
+realize my hope to meet Valentine in another world."
+
+"Nothing can induce you to give up your design then?" asked
+Monte-Cristo.
+
+"Nothing, not even you," answered Morrel, firmly.
+
+"Well, then, let it be so," said Monte-Cristo sternly, as he took a
+greenish, strongly smelling pastil from a box cut from an opal.
+
+"It is hashish. Death is painless and recalls to the person taking it
+the most beautiful memories of his life."
+
+Maximilian embraced his friend and swallowed the pastil.
+
+The effect was wonderful. A delightful languor took possession of
+Maximilian. All the scenes of his childhood came back to him, only the
+form of his darling was missing. Suddenly the back part of the room
+appeared to open and a female form strode toward him with arms
+outstretched; it was the purified form of his beloved.
+
+"Oh, how sweet is such a death," whispered Maximilian.
+
+The figure strode nearer to him, embraced him and kissed his burning
+forehead.
+
+"My poor lover," murmured a well-known voice.
+
+"Valentine," exclaimed Maximilian, "Valentine, is it possible! I am not
+dreaming, you are alive! I clasp you in my arms, only to die myself!"
+
+"I am alive, my dear friend, and bring you new life; it is no dream, we
+are at the realization of our hopes, we are united on earth forever."
+
+Gradually Maximilian became conscious. He lay in the arms of his
+beloved Valentine and his faithful friend Monte-Cristo stood near him.
+
+"Valentine and Maximilian," said the count solemnly, "my dear friends,
+from now on nothing shall separate you; I give you life back again, I
+now join your hands in the bonds which nothing can separate but the
+grave! May God bless you both as I do."
+
+Overpowered with emotion the newly united couple sank at the feet of
+this curious man to thank him from the depths of their hearts.
+Monte-Cristo lifted Valentine tenderly from the ground and turning to
+her said:
+
+"I shall leave you alone now, and go back to my apartments, where my
+wife, the Countess of Monte-Cristo, awaits me."
+
+As soon as the count had gone the two lovers embraced each other again.
+Then the young man led the young girl to a divan, and asked her to tell
+him the wonderful story of her rescue and her return from the grave.
+
+"I was," related Valentine, "as you know, very ill; but yet I hoped to
+become convalescent again! One night, as I lay on my bed of sickness, a
+door which I had never before perceived was opened. A man entered and
+approached my bed; I was just about to scream when I perceived that the
+spectre was none other than the Count of Monte-Cristo, who made signs to
+me to keep silent. He sat beside me and told me I was being gradually
+poisoned by my step-mother, and that she had already poisoned my
+grandparents Barrois in the same manner. He had himself given me an
+antidote. But the means he had were not sufficient to shield me from
+all danger, and he begged me to drink a potion, which would put me in a
+trance for the space of three days. I took the potion which the count
+gave me; I lost my senses. How long I lay thus I do not know, but when I
+woke I found myself in a coffin in a church, and the count standing
+beside me. A new and powerful potion restored me to my former vitality.
+The count brought me to his house, where I found everything necessary to
+a journey. After I had rested for a few days, I rode to Marseilles with
+the count, and from there to this lonely island, where I have found you,
+my dear Maximilian."
+
+A new embrace ended this conversation, and they both left the apartment
+to go in search of the count, to thank him again for his trouble.
+
+They went to the grotto and asked Jacopo, who had brought Maximilian to
+the island, where the count was.
+
+"I have a letter for both of you from my master."
+
+"Where is the Count of Monte-Cristo?" they both asked simultaneously.
+
+"He has just left the island with his wife and his servant, Ali. You can
+still see the ship over there," replied Jacopo, pointing to a small boat
+on which could be described three persons. It was the count, Haydee, and
+Ali. Maximilian quickly opened the letter, which read as follows:
+
+
+     "MY DEAR MAXIMILIAN--A ship is lying at anchor for you. Jacopo will
+     bring you to Livorno, where Monsieur Noirtier awaits his
+     grandchild, whom he wishes to bless before you lead her to the
+     altar. Everything you find in this grotto and my house in Paris are
+     the wedding presents of a faithful friend, whom you will never see
+     again. My last words are: Waiting and hoping. May you both live
+     happy and think now and then of your devoted friend,
+
+                            "EDMOND DANTES, Count of Monte-Cristo."
+
+
+Meanwhile the count's vessel departed further and further from the
+island; a fresh breeze filled the sail and it disappeared from view.
+Valentine and Maximilian waved a cordial farewell to the travellers with
+their hands. Then the ship vanished from the horizon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE SENTENCE OF DEATH
+
+
+Monsieur de Villefort was not alone--Dr. d'Avigny accompanied his
+patient, and whispered a word in his ear now and then.
+
+Villefort was only a ruin now. His hanging lower lip and glassy eyes
+impressed the spectators and the bench sadly, and even those who were
+accustomed to be attacked by him in the days of his power as a
+district-attorney now only felt pity for the man who had fallen so low.
+
+The judge was moved when he arose and delivered the following address to
+the jury:
+
+"Gentlemen of the jury! Dr. d'Avigny, who pays the greatest care to
+Monsieur de Villefort, was so kind as to accompany his patient to-day.
+Before I subpoenaed Monsieur de Villefort I inquired of his physician
+whether he could attend court without injury to himself. Doctor, will
+you confirm this statement to the gentlemen of the jury?"
+
+"Certainly, judge," said the old physician, deeply moved. "Monsieur de
+Villefort's condition is hopeless, and would not be changed in any way
+by his appearing in court--the apathy of my patient is beyond
+description."
+
+Thereupon Dr. d'Avigny turned to his patient and led him to a chair.
+Deep silence reigned throughout the room. The veiled lady looked keenly
+at the man, before whose gaze criminals were wont to tremble, and who
+had now sunk lower than the wretched beings he had formerly prosecuted.
+
+Benedetto, in great excitement, had outstretched his arms toward
+Monsieur de Villefort, and almost immediately after fell back again in
+his seat crushed and annihilated.
+
+"Monsieur de Villefort," said the judge, "tell us--" He proceeded no
+further. Villefort tried to rise, and made strenuous efforts to stammer
+forth some words. The judge waited a short while and then continued:
+
+"Monsieur de Villefort, are you able to answer a few questions I shall
+address to you?"
+
+Villefort nodded and stammered with some difficulty: "Yes."
+
+"Benedetto," said the judge, turning toward the prisoner, "stand up."
+
+Benedetto obeyed the order.
+
+"Look at Monsieur de Villefort," continued the judge, "and tell me, upon
+your conscience, whether you uphold the accusations made by you at a
+former trial of this case."
+
+Benedetto was either, as pious souls say, "touched by compassion," or
+else the most accomplished hypocrite in existence. He clasped both hands
+to his face and murmured in a voice choked with tears:
+
+"Pardon, father--pardon!"
+
+"What does the man want of me?" asked Monsieur de Villefort, who was
+gradually recovering his voice, and to the astonishment of the
+spectators was soon in possession of his speech.
+
+"He calls you father," replied the judge, "you yourself have
+acknowledged him as your son."
+
+Villefort put his hand to his forehead.
+
+"My son? And he is alive? It is impossible--my children were killed in
+my house--my son is dead."
+
+"Have you forgotten the night of the 27th and 28th of September, 1807?"
+
+"No, I have forgotten nothing--that son I killed too."
+
+"Yes, but he escaped death by a miracle, don't you know!"
+
+"Ah, yes, I remember; it was no miracle; he owes his life to an attempt
+at assassination, and the murderer thought he was lifting up a treasure
+when he picked up the box containing the child."
+
+"Then you acknowledge your son?"
+
+Villefort laughed maliciously.
+
+"Yes, certainly he is my son. How would he have been a counterfeiter and
+murderer otherwise? Oh, it is all right--the house in Auteuil, the
+napkin marked H; Villefort's son must become a murderer."
+
+He stretched out his lean hand toward Benedetto and hissed ironically:
+
+"You are my son. You have murdered already and will murder again."
+
+"No, no," gasped Benedetto; "I have sinned terribly, but nothing on
+earth could make me increase my crimes! Father, I forgive you, and may
+God have mercy on both our souls."
+
+A murmur of emotion ran through the room, and Benedetto, encouraged,
+continued in a sobbing voice:
+
+"And you, too, my mother, whom I have never known, I forgive. If I
+could only have stammered your name and danced on your knee, I would
+never have become a criminal."
+
+Deep sobbing was heard in the room and the veiled lady sank half
+unconscious in her seat. Her companion busied himself with her, and as
+soon as she had regained consciousness he whispered in her ear:
+
+"Prudence--or all is lost."
+
+"Monsieur de Villefort," said the judge solemnly, "you are discharged!
+Whatever your faults have been God has made you pay dear for them."
+
+D'Avigny laid his hand on Villefort's arm and wished to take his patient
+with him, but the former district-attorney shook his head vigorously and
+said, rather sharply:
+
+"I do not wish to go yet, I have something to say."
+
+"Speak then, we are listening," said the judge, surprised.
+
+"Judge and gentlemen of the jury," Villefort solemnly began, "you have
+heard the contrite words of the man who is unfortunately my son. Do not
+believe him--he lies!"
+
+"Monsieur de Villefort," exclaimed the judge, warningly.
+
+"Oh, let me finish," continued the ex-procureur du roi; "I am supposed
+to be insane, yet I see things clearer than a great many whose reason is
+unclouded! You believe I would have committed a sin had I killed
+him--you are wrong, it would have been the only good action of my life
+if I had freed the world of such a rascal and monster. Benedetto
+neither regrets nor forgives. I, his father, ought to know him. He is
+playing a well-studied part. Gentlemen of the jury, be careful! The
+responsibility which weighs on you is great. When a tiger escapes from
+his cage, he is shot down. Take the sword of justice and let it fall on
+his neck--I, the father of this man, move that he be condemned to
+death!"
+
+A murmur of affright ran through the room; people forgot that a maniac
+stood before them, and only saw the district-attorney, who, like a
+second Brutus, delivered over his own son to the law. Like the judgment
+day the words rang through the room, "I move that he be condemned to
+death." As soon as the echo of the words died away, Villefort arose, and
+leaning on D'Avigny's arm, he bowed to the judge and slowly left the
+court-room.
+
+"Upon my word," whispered Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud, "Villefort is
+insane."
+
+"Did you notice that Madame Danglars was struggling with a fainting
+fit?" asked Chateau-Renaud.
+
+"Ah, bah! Benedetto is a handsome youth, and Madame Danglars is not a
+model of virtue; who knows what relations they have had with each
+other?"
+
+"Perhaps Debray might know more, he--"
+
+"Hush! the procureur du roi is speaking. I'll wager that his speech will
+be less shrewd than that of the maniac."
+
+The procureur du roi arose amid the hushed silence of the court-room,
+and began to speak, throwing all the blame on Monsieur de Villefort
+rather than on Benedetto.
+
+"Let us not be carried away by pity," he said, "for these unscrupulous
+men, who soil their judicial ermine in the lowest passions of mankind,
+and thereby endanger the lives and sacrifice the honor of their wives
+and children."
+
+After the prisoner's counsel had summed up eloquently for his client and
+the judge had charged the jury, the latter went out, but returned in a
+short time.
+
+"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon a verdict?" asked the
+judge.
+
+There was intense excitement in the court-room, the spectators literally
+holding their breath.
+
+"Yes," answered the foreman; "we find the prisoner guilty, with
+extenuating circumstances."
+
+The spectators clapped their hands.
+
+"Prisoner, have you anything to say?" asked the judge.
+
+"No," replied Benedetto, in a calm, dignified manner.
+
+"The sentence of the court is, that you be sent to the galleys for
+life."
+
+No sooner had the sentence been pronounced than the man who had
+accompanied Madame Danglars glided toward the bar where Benedetto stood,
+and whispered something in his ear.
+
+"We have kept our word, have we not?"
+
+"Yes; but the galleys?"
+
+"We have saved your head. More we cannot do at present. Have patience."
+
+The court officials coming up to take the prisoner interrupted the
+conversation. Benedetto was placed in a coach and driven to Bicetre. He
+was placed in a filthy jail, and then left to himself. He had not been
+long there when he felt a hand touch him and a voice whisper close to
+his ear.
+
+"You are in luck, comrade," said the unknown. "Some rich lady is
+interested in you. You don't remember me, perhaps. 'Twas I who brought
+you that note two months ago. I got two gold pieces for doing so."
+
+"Who was the lady, and how did you get here?"
+
+"I don't know who she is, but she appears to be over forty. As for me, I
+am a priest, and committed wrong--"
+
+At this moment the door was opened, and a voice called:
+
+"Benedetto! Benedetto!"
+
+Benedetto arose, and peering through the grated cell-door saw a woman.
+
+"What do you want?" he gruffly asked.
+
+"I am your mother."
+
+"My mother?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I have one favor to ask of you."
+
+"I am willing to do anything for you."
+
+"Are you going to stay in Paris?"
+
+"No, I shall leave France on the 26th of February."
+
+"And you sail from Marseilles?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then you will be near Toulon. I know that you do not wish me to see
+your face or learn your secret. But if you have any love for me, come
+and see me there."
+
+The poor woman yearned to embrace her son, whose hypocritical words
+awoke the dormant love in her bosom.
+
+"I promise to see you before I sail on the 26th."
+
+"Come to Toulon, then, on the 24th. And, by the way, here is a letter
+from one of my comrades to whom I am under deep obligations. On your
+way home drop it into the letter-box."
+
+She could not decline to do him this service. Her usual caution deserted
+her, and as she slipped the note in her bosom the light fell full on her
+face.
+
+Benedetto recognized her at once as Madame Danglars, the wife of Baron
+Danglars, and the mother of the girl he was to have married. He could
+hardly restrain a cry of rage and astonishment.
+
+"Good-by," he said. "Do not forget the 24th."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE EDITORIAL ROOMS
+
+
+"Well, my dear Chateau-Renaud, is there anything new?" asked Beauchamp
+of his friend, who had paid him a visit to his office.
+
+"Bah--not much! It's the same old story in the Orient, and outside of
+that place nothing ever happens in the world."
+
+"Nothing? What will you give me if I tell you something which will
+interest you, my dear Chateau-Renaud?"
+
+"That depends. Who is the party?"
+
+"Our friend, Albert de Morcerf."
+
+"That is worth listening to: how is the poor fellow getting along?"
+
+"Oh, splendidly! He distinguishes himself in every battle, and will one
+day become a famous general."
+
+"I hope so. Do you still recollect the hard times poor Morcerf had when
+the first article from Yanina appeared in your paper?"
+
+"I do. I went myself on the strength of it to Yanina, and the news I
+brought from there was perfectly crushing from our old friend."
+
+"And Count Monte-Cristo has disappeared?"
+
+"For the present, yes. Though I am sure that sooner or later he will
+show up again."
+
+At this moment a loud uproar was heard near the door, and as Beauchamp
+opened it, a young man was seen who was struggling with the office boy
+to gain admission.
+
+"What is the meaning of this?" asked Beauchamp, in a tone of surprise,
+as he opened the door.
+
+"Ah, Beauchamp!" exclaimed the stranger, "I knew you would admit me."
+
+"At present I have not the honor of your acquaintance," replied
+Beauchamp, bowing.
+
+"Permit me to refresh your memory; I am the man who called you into the
+court-room during the Benedetto trial. You were at the refreshment
+counter, and--"
+
+"Ah, now I remember," said Beauchamp, in a friendly tone. "What can I do
+for you?"
+
+"Pardon me, Monsieur Beauchamp, but I think I can do you a service."
+
+"Then come into my office, Monsieur--what is your name now?"
+
+"Gratillet, Monsieur Beauchamp," said the young man, following him into
+the office. After he had taken a chair proffered him he laughed to
+himself and in a tone of importance said:
+
+"If I am not mistaken, you interest yourself for Benedetto?"
+
+"A little, Monsieur Gratillet."
+
+"When you have heard my report, you will do so more. I took good notice
+of Benedetto and have come to the conclusion that he has been picked out
+to do great things!"
+
+"Really? Is he going to become a minister, or perhaps a king?"
+
+"Laugh away; he will not die in the galleys."
+
+"Then, perhaps, on the gallows; that is sometimes the end of a career
+like his."
+
+"No, Benedetto is more ambitious than that. I will only give you the
+facts and tell you what I heard yesterday. Last night Benedetto received
+a visit in prison."
+
+"A visit?"
+
+"Just as I tell you. A veiled lady visited him and remained an hour with
+him. Her face I could not recognize."
+
+"Have you got wings with which to pursue Benedetto?"
+
+"No, Monsieur Beauchamp. At the end of the proceedings I took a carriage
+and arrived at the prison only a quarter of an hour after Benedetto."
+
+"I call that promptness. You saw the lady then?"
+
+"Yes; I did not recognize her perfectly, but imagine she is the wife of
+a banker who left for parts unknown about three months ago."
+
+Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud looked knowingly at one another, while
+Gratillet continued:
+
+"The lady in question left the prison at ten o'clock and got into her
+carriage."
+
+"A carriage?"
+
+"No, a hackney coach she had hired."
+
+"And you followed her again?"
+
+"This time the matter was much easier; I got upon the box with the
+driver and arrived at her destination as soon as the occupant herself.
+The carriage drove to No. 8 Rue Contrescarpe. I looked closely at the
+house and read a sign near the door with the following card: 'Monsieur
+Magloire, taxidermist.' The lady got out and rang the bell, but to no
+purpose. Becoming bolder she knocked at the door. A sliding window was
+opened and a gruff voice asked:
+
+"'Well, what do you want?'
+
+"'I have a letter to deliver,' said the lady softly.
+
+"'From whom?'
+
+"I could not make out what she said. A hand was put through the opening
+and took the letter, whereupon the sliding window was again closed. The
+lady waited a while longer and then rode off."
+
+"Did you follow her?"
+
+"Oh, no, why should I have done that? I am interested in Benedetto, and
+the lady is only a side character. First of all, Monsieur Beauchamp, do
+you think the story suitable for your paper?"
+
+"Hm! that could be talked over. In the meantime take a cigar."
+
+"Thanks. Have you ever seen the departure of the galley-slaves from
+Bicetre?"
+
+"No, but I imagine it must be a curious sight."
+
+"It is. This morning I was in Bicetre to see Benedetto depart, and I
+must confess I almost pitied him. The handsome Andrea Cavalcanti was
+undressed and his clothes cut in the usual way."
+
+"Why do they do that?" asked Chateau-Renaud.
+
+"To prevent the flight of a convict. Whoever sees these cut clothes
+knows they belong to a galley-slave. The other prisoners said nothing
+while the operation was being performed; Benedetto, however, cried out
+aloud when the jailer cut his elegant coat, and when the rattle of the
+chains was heard in another room he gritted his teeth and cast such a
+look around him that I instinctively shuddered."
+
+"Were you present during the chaining of the convicts, Monsieur
+Gratillet?"
+
+"Certainly; I never do things by halves. The prisoners were brought into
+the courtyard and placed in rows of two each, who were tied to each
+other by a chain six feet long."
+
+"Are you nearly finished with your story, Monsieur Gratillet?" said
+Beauchamp, thoughtfully.
+
+"Directly. Just as the door opened through which the convicts have to
+pass to leave the courtyard, I noticed among the crowd assembled to see
+them off a small humpbacked man. On his crooked shoulders a monkey
+balanced, a poodle in uniform sat on its hind legs beside him, in his
+right hand he held a bird-cage, and along his left arm a large rat
+promenaded up and down. The rat had a wonderfully pointed nose and long
+tail. It ran up and down the whole time, looking in every direction with
+its sharp eyes. The prisoners, the jailers and spectators laughed at its
+antics. The hunchback drew nearer, and, as it seemed to me, looked at
+Benedetto. The latter, however, did not notice him, and now I perceived
+I had made a mistake, and that the gaze of the ratcatcher was directed
+to Benedetto's comrade in chains."
+
+"Did you know this comrade in chains?" asked Beauchamp, hurriedly.
+
+"Yes; it was a former priest named Anselmo, if you have ever heard
+anything of him."
+
+"Certainly. The priest was a disgrace to the cloth," said Beauchamp.
+"So he is Benedetto's companion. A worthy pair."
+
+"I thought so, too," continued Gratillet, laughing. "Suddenly the rat
+sprang from the arm of its master on to that of the ex-priest, and
+rubbing its pointed nose on his sleeve it fawned about him.
+
+"'Oh, what a beautiful animal!' exclaimed Anselmo; 'present it to me.'
+
+"'I would be a fool,' replied the hunchback, gruffly. 'I sell my
+animals, but I never give them away.'
+
+"'But I have no money.'
+
+"'You have a nice ring on your finger, give it to me and you can have my
+rat.'
+
+"Now I am ready to swear to it," said Gratillet, solemnly, "that Anselmo
+had no ring on his finger before, whereas he had one now. He looked at
+the jailer and said: 'In case it is allowed, I should like to exchange
+my ring for the rat.'
+
+"The jailer made no objection to this. The hunchback claimed that his
+rat was a wonderful animal, and he would show the tricks it could do.
+The rat sprang through little paper balloons, nodded and shook its head,
+just as it was asked, and finally crawled up Anselmo's sleeve. The
+prisoners were enthusiastic in their praises. Anselmo and the hunchback
+whispered softly together; finally, the jailer put a stop to the thing
+by shutting the gate and driving the prisoners back.
+
+"'One word more,' exclaimed Anselmo, 'I do not know the name of my rat!'
+
+"'The animal is called "Rat King,"' said the hunchback, putting his head
+once more through the door.
+
+"I followed the hunchback; when he turned down a narrow street I cried
+to him: 'Au revoir, Monsieur Magloire,' and the look he gave me told me
+I had guessed right."
+
+"You believe then--" said Chateau-Renaud.
+
+"That the letter which the lady delivered in the Rue Contrescarpe was
+written by Anselmo and given to the lady through Benedetto, the letter
+inclosed the order for the rat, and everything went smoothly. The final
+act in the drama will not permit itself to be long waited for."
+
+"As soon as we are ready," said Beauchamp, "Monsieur Gratillet can write
+it up for our paper. Can I count you, Monsieur Gratillet, from to-day on
+as one of my staff?"
+
+"I desire no greater honor," replied Gratillet, his face beaming with
+joy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+PONTOON NO. 2
+
+
+The galley-slaves were shipped from Chalons to Lyons. No accident marred
+the trip, and all the prisoners were in good humor, with the exception
+of Benedetto. Anselmo tried his best to arouse his comrade, but his
+efforts were fruitless. Benedetto remained silent and gloomy. When the
+convicts were leaving the ship at Lyons, Anselmo whispered to his
+companion:
+
+"Magloire is a good fellow: the file he sent me is sharp."
+
+"The file?" repeated Benedetto, not understanding the allusion; "he did
+not give you any instrument!"
+
+"What a stupid fellow you are. But keep patience; later on I will tell
+you more."
+
+Benedetto, since the journey from Paris, was no longer recognizable; he
+no longer resembled the proud Andrea Cavalcanti, and sometimes even
+thought he was going crazy.
+
+What sustained him was the thought of the million his mother intended to
+give the Jesuits on the 25th of February. This million he must secure
+for himself; but how he was to do so he did not know himself.
+
+At first he thought Anselmo would keep his word and free him; but
+gradually this hope vanished, and as the column marched into Toulon on
+the 28th of January, Benedetto was on the verge of despair.
+
+In Toulon the iron necklace was taken off of the prisoners and replaced
+by an iron ball fastened to the leg. The prisoners were brought to the
+lavatory, given a bath, and then dressed in the historical clothing of a
+galley-slave.
+
+As Anselmo and Benedetto were of the same stature, it was only natural
+that they were both chained together. They were placed in pontoon No. 2,
+and the little rat-king was their companion.
+
+The rat soon made itself at home with all the prison officials and the
+prisoners, and not a night passed but what it played its tricks. Anselmo
+had taught it a great deal more, and when he asked it:
+
+"Little rat-king, what are your feelings for the king, the law, and the
+turnkeys?" the little animal would bow at every side, cross its front
+feet over its breast, and move its pointed nose as if it were murmuring
+prayers, at the same time casting its eyes to the floor. If Anselmo
+would then ask:
+
+"What is the penalty for those condemned to death?"
+
+The rat would throw itself flat on the ground, and lie motionless, as if
+to appear dead.
+
+Benedetto was the only one who was not amused. Whenever the rat came
+near him he would tremble violently. If Anselmo saw it he would make
+sarcastic remarks about princely ways, which caused Benedetto to grind
+his teeth with rage. His only desire now was to get away from his
+comrades in chains. But there was little hope for this, more especially
+as he heard a jailer one day tell Anselmo he should get rid of his
+grumbling companion; if the rat were to support the petition it would
+not be difficult, and the ex-priest laughingly replied:
+
+"Not a bit of it; Benedetto is just as agreeable to me as another; let
+us leave things as they are!"
+
+As soon as the jailer turned away, Benedetto, mad with rage, turned to
+the ex-priest and said:
+
+"Why won't you free me from your society?"
+
+"Because I do not wish to have any strange face about me," was the
+indifferent reply. "You do not embarrass me in the least, and as I do
+not embarrass you--"
+
+"On the contrary, you are distasteful to me," interrupted Benedetto,
+violently.
+
+"Really? Your candor pleases me. Under all circumstances, we shall stay
+together."
+
+"And suppose I kill you?" hissed Benedetto.
+
+"Hem, my boy, that is easier said than done. Besides, I can tell you why
+you hate me."
+
+"I am curious to know! I hardly know myself why I hate you," said
+Benedetto, maliciously.
+
+"Because you think I lied to you, because in prison I spoke of escape,
+and have not said a word about that since."
+
+Benedetto stammered a few unintelligible words, and was ashamed to have
+had his thoughts read so easily.
+
+"Do you know the story of Brutus, who pretended to be a simpleton, so as
+to bring about the downfall of Tarquin the more effectually?" asked
+Anselmo, with a malicious smile.
+
+"You are making fun of me," Benedetto gruffly answered. "Did you
+deceive me when you gave me the letter for Monsieur Magloire?"
+
+"Do you really think so?"
+
+"What a question! Do you think Monsieur Magloire could aid us in
+escaping?"
+
+"Suppose he has already done so."
+
+Benedetto looked at his comrade with wide open mouth.
+
+"Are you really so anxious to escape?" continued Anselmo.
+
+"Really anxious? I would give my right hand were I able to escape from
+prison on a certain day!"
+
+"And when is that?"
+
+"I must leave Toulon on the night of the 24th of April."
+
+"You must! That settles it."
+
+"Do not be sarcastic--I must be at liberty or else--"
+
+"Well? or else--"
+
+"Then, you will not betray me, will you?"
+
+"Your anxiety on that point comes rather late," said Anselmo dryly. "To
+reassure you, however, let me tell you that it is not to my interest to
+betray you. Look at me. Just as I stand here, I have the power to set
+you free on the spot."
+
+Benedetto uttered a cry.
+
+"Are you speaking the truth?" he breathlessly asked.
+
+"And why should I deceive you? Let me give you my conditions, and if you
+accept them you will be free on the evening of the 24th of February."
+
+"What are your conditions?" asked Benedetto faintly.
+
+"Give me half of the million you are seeking to get, and we are quits."
+
+The Corsican looked tremblingly at the ex-priest.
+
+"How do you know?" he stammered.
+
+"That you are seeking to get a million--well, out of your dreams. The
+words 'the 24th of February,' and 'one million,' form the Alpha and
+Omega of your thoughts, and in your sleep you constantly repeat these
+words. You want to be free on the 24th, so as to steal this million.
+Steal it, but give me my share!"
+
+"And you want?" stammered Benedetto.
+
+"One quarter! I could demand half, but I will be modest."
+
+"How are you going to secure our freedom?" asked Benedetto after a
+pause.
+
+"That is my affair! I have an accomplice whom I can trust."
+
+"An accomplice? Who can it be?"
+
+"Swear to me that you will give me a quarter part of your million, and I
+will show him to you."
+
+Benedetto took the oath. Anselmo whistled for his rat, and, pointing to
+the little animal, solemnly said:
+
+"Here is our savior--the little rat-king will free us!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE DEAD LIVE
+
+
+Dr. D'Avigny sat in his private office and studied the sick-list of his
+asylum. A servant entered, and announced a young man who desired to
+speak with him.
+
+"You know, Jean, that I do not like to receive visitors so late at
+night," said the physician.
+
+"The gentleman gave me his card and told me you would receive him."
+
+The doctor threw a glance at the card. No sooner had he read the name,
+Maximilian Morrel, than he hurriedly rose and said:
+
+"Bring the gentleman in at once."
+
+Dr. D'Avigny had only seen young Morrel once--at the time Valentine de
+Villefort sank apparently lifeless to the ground. As Maximilian entered,
+both men remembered the sorrowful circumstances under which they had met
+before, and, deeply moved, they shook each other's hand.
+
+"Doctor," said Maximilian in a solemn voice, "I do not come to the
+physician but to the friend of the Villefort family."
+
+D'Avigny bowed and Morrel continued:
+
+"Can you tell me how Monsieur de Villefort is getting on?"
+
+"His condition is hopeless," said the doctor sorrowfully; "as his
+attendant just informed me, he is again in possession of his senses, but
+I fear it is the last glimmering before the final extinguishment. He
+begged me to send for the district-attorney, as he wished to make an
+important communication to him, and as I hesitated he hurriedly said:
+
+"'D'Avigny, I have no time to lose; Death is already sitting on my
+tongue.'"
+
+"Then we must be quick," murmured Maximilian to himself, and then
+speaking aloud he said: "Doctor, would a great excitement injure your
+patient?"
+
+"That depends upon the nature of the excitement," answered D'Avigny.
+"There can hardly be any more joys for Villefort, and troubles I would
+keep aloof from him."
+
+"It is a question of a great joy, which, however, is not free from
+certain anxieties."
+
+"You are speaking in riddles, Monsieur Morrel."
+
+"Then let me unravel these riddles to you. Valentine de Villefort
+lives."
+
+The old physician swayed from side to side and would have fallen to the
+ground had not Morrel caught him in his arms. Hot tears rolled over
+D'Avigny's cheeks, and sobbing he asked:
+
+"Is it no dream? Does Valentine live?"
+
+"She lives, and yearns to shake her old friend's hand," replied Morrel.
+
+He then narrated to the astonished physician the extraordinary
+circumstance of Valentine's rescue from death. He told the dangers
+Monte-Cristo had undergone for her; how he had made the poisoned goblet
+of Madame de Villefort harmless, and how he had rescued him, too, from
+a suicide's death.
+
+"And who is this Count of Monte-Cristo?" asked D'Avigny when Maximilian
+had ended.
+
+"Doctor," said Morrel solemnly, "here my story ends. Who and what the
+Count of Monte-Cristo is I am not at liberty to tell. He has a mission
+to fulfil, rewards here and punishes there, and I myself have been at
+times moved to believe him a divine person. There is a mystery
+surrounding him, which he alone can clear up; but this I know, he is a
+noble man."
+
+"Where is Valentine now?" asked D'Avigny after a short pause.
+
+"Since the fall of the house of Villefort, Valentine has lived with her
+grandfather, Monsieur Noirtier, on his estate near Marseilles."
+
+"That is the reason, then, why Monsieur Noirtier disappeared so suddenly
+from Paris?" said D'Avigny.
+
+"Yes, the Count of Monte-Cristo informed the old man that Valentine
+lived, and was in need of his protection. Monsieur Noirtier immediately
+arranged his affairs, and up to five days ago they were both living
+quietly at Oliolles, near Marseilles."
+
+"And since then?" asked the physician, uneasily.
+
+"About five days ago Valentine received this note. Please read it and
+tell me what you think of it."
+
+Morrel handed the following letter to the doctor:
+
+
+     "MADEMOISELLE VALENTINE--In Paris, in the house of Dr. D'Avigny, a
+     dying man awaits your consolation. If you wish to see your father
+     alive, hurry to him.
+
+                                                           "M. C."
+
+
+"The Count of Monte-Cristo must have written this note," said D'Avigny.
+"The initials M. C. prove it."
+
+"We thought so, too," said Maximilian.
+
+"Do you know where the count is now?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Where could he have found out that Monsieur de Villefort is dying? I
+myself have only known it since two days," said D'Avigny, meditatively.
+
+"Oh, the count sometimes appears to be endowed with miraculous powers!"
+exclaimed Morrel, enthusiastically. "Valentine immediately travelled
+here under my protection. I--"
+
+At this moment the door opened, and a young man about twenty-five years
+of age, with a fine open face, entered the room. Monsieur d'Avigny took
+pride in introducing him to Maximilian as his son Fritz.
+
+"Papa," he said to the old gentleman, "Monsieur de Villefort is sinking
+rapidly."
+
+"You have come at the right time," said D'Avigny, turning toward
+Maximilian; "where is Valentine?"
+
+"At the home of my sister Madame d'Herbault."
+
+"Then tell the two ladies, please, to come here at once," said the old
+gentleman. "Valentine can be at hand to come to her father when I call."
+
+Morrel went away, and the father and son went to Monsieur de Villefort.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE CONFESSION
+
+
+With his head between his hands, Monsieur de Villefort sat in his
+easy-chair, as if an uninterested spectator. When the door opened he
+rose in his chair, and, looking expectantly at the two physicians who
+entered, said:
+
+"Well, is the district-attorney coming?"
+
+"He will be here soon," replied D'Avigny, to quiet the old man.
+
+"But I have no more time," exclaimed Villefort, passionately.
+
+"Monsieur de Villefort," said the physician earnestly, "you know that
+the district-attorney can only be informed in cases of the utmost
+importance, and--"
+
+"And is it not an important case when a man who has himself filled the
+office of district-attorney for years wishes to speak to his successor
+before he dies?" said Villefort, sharply. "What is the name of the new
+district-attorney?"
+
+"Monsieur de Flambois."
+
+"Oh, my former assistant," muttered the sick man, with a bitter smile.
+"Doctor, it is a question of rehabilitation. Tell Monsieur de Flambois
+to hurry up."
+
+"I will do so," said Fritz, after an interchange of looks with his
+father, and he immediately left the room.
+
+The old physician also went away, and immediately afterward Morrel
+conducted his sister and Valentine into the private office of the
+doctor.
+
+Monsieur d'Avigny with deep emotion drew the young girl, who was attired
+in deep mourning, to his bosom, while the tears fell on Valentine's
+cheeks.
+
+"My dearly beloved child," he said, with tenderness. "Thank God that my
+old eyes are permitted to see you once more."
+
+"And my father?" asked Valentine, sobbing.
+
+"You will see him, Valentine. Remain patient for a little while longer;
+he wants to see the district-attorney, and, as far as I understand, it
+is about some former injustice which he wishes to repair. Confide in me,
+I shall call you when the time comes. In the meantime take some
+refreshment, as you must be weak from the journey."
+
+Valentine and Julie withdrew to an apartment which had been prepared for
+them, and d'Avigny and Morrel remained alone.
+
+"If I could only understand," said the old man meditatively, "how
+Monsieur de Villefort ever could have such a daughter."
+
+"Perhaps Valentine's mother, Mademoiselle de St. Meran, had a noble
+nature."
+
+"I hardly think so. Of course I did not know Monsieur de Villefort's
+first wife, but, from what I have heard of her, she was very miserly,
+and a fit companion for her husband. Old Madame de St. Meran, too, was
+not exactly a tender-hearted woman."
+
+"But she loved Valentine dearly," Morrel remarked.
+
+"I admit that; although this love did not prevent her from trying to
+force Valentine into an obnoxious marriage. Monsieur d'Epinay was of an
+old aristocratic family, and that was why the old lady thought he would
+be a good match for her granddaughter. No, they were all selfish, and
+Valentine can congratulate herself for not being like them."
+
+The entrance of the servant, who announced the arrival of Monsieur de
+Flambois and Monsieur d'Avigny, put an end to the conversation. The old
+physician immediately conducted Monsieur de Flambois to the bedside of
+his patient, whose eyes lighted up when he recognized the
+district-attorney.
+
+"Monsieur de Villefort," began the district-attorney, bowing low, "you
+desired to speak to me to tell me something important. Do you wish our
+interview to be private?"
+
+"No," said Villefort, solemnly. "I desire Monsieur d'Avigny to remain
+and act as a witness."
+
+The physician seated himself on the bed, while Monsieur de Flambois took
+up a position at the writing desk.
+
+"Monsieur de Villefort, we are ready."
+
+"Gentlemen," said the sick man, in a clear, firm voice, "thanks to me
+and thanks to my wife, Heloise de Villefort, my family name has become
+infamous and I am not surprised my father no longer wishes to bear it."
+
+"But, Monsieur de Villefort," interrupted the official.
+
+"Let me speak. What would you think of a man who, to save himself,
+condemns another in cold blood to imprisonment for life."
+
+"I would call him a criminal," said Flambois solemnly.
+
+"Well, I am such a criminal. In the year 1814, I condemned a young man
+to life imprisonment and the heavens did not fall; I rose step by step,
+and for twenty-five years was looked upon as an honorable official whose
+reputation was above suspicion, although in my own heart I knew I was a
+rogue. But the man I thought had rotted away in jail was alive and
+revenged himself upon me. The first wife who bore my name was my
+accomplice, the second was a poisoner. She murdered every one who stood
+in her way; my son and Valentine became her victims; my other son sprung
+from a criminal attachment. I tried to kill him by burying him alive; as
+a punishment for me, he was rescued to die on the gallows."
+
+"No, Monsieur de Villefort, Benedetto's sentence was commuted to life
+imprisonment," said Monsieur de Flambois.
+
+"That is worse than the gallows," stammered the sick man. "My first and
+my second wife, Benedetto and myself deserved to have our names looked
+upon with loathing, but Valentine, my poor innocent Valentine, did not
+deserve this shame, and on her account I speak to-day."
+
+"I do not understand you," said the district-attorney. "Your daughter
+Valentine--"
+
+"Ah, what fools!" exclaimed Villefort. "How could you imagine that
+Valentine was my daughter? No, gentlemen, Valentine is not a Villefort!
+How could an angel be a member of such a sinful race!"
+
+"I thought as much," muttered d'Avigny to himself, while Flambois
+looked at his former chief as if the latter were talking Sanscrit.
+
+"When I married Renee de St. Meran," continued Monsieur de Villefort,
+after a short pause, "I was a young and ambitious official. My wife was
+also ambitious, and we were fitted in that respect for one another.
+Unfortunately for us both, there was a clause in the marriage contract,
+by which Monsieur and Madame de St. Meran pledged themselves to give our
+first child on its baptism a present of three hundred thousand francs.
+As soon as I was in possession of such a fortune, I could go to Paris,
+and once in the capital, I was sure to make my way. Renee was of the
+same mind as myself, she yearned to come to court and play a part in the
+world of society; Marseilles was too small for her. When Renee became
+_enceinte_ we were both overjoyed. The birth of a child would smooth our
+path, and we only thought of the first smile of the little being, to
+arrange our plans. The event so anxiously awaited by us was to take
+place at the beginning of May, 1816. To have you understand what
+followed, I must go back to April, 1815. I was sitting at work on the
+evening of the 4th of April, when loud screams attracted my attention. I
+opened the window; it was ten o'clock, and in the moonlight I observed
+that the street in front of our house was filled with a noisy and
+turbulent crowd of people. Collecting my thoughts, I blew out my lamp. I
+saw a man running rapidly along the street, followed by a great crowd
+shouting, 'Down with the Englishman.' The man ran so quickly that he
+distanced all his pursuers, and I already thought that he was saved,
+when I saw him stagger and fall. In a moment his pursuers were upon him,
+a loud cry was heard, and the next moment the unfortunate man was
+thrown into the river. Not long after all was still again. I lighted my
+lamp again and was about to continue my work, when I heard a slight tap
+at the window. I became frightened. Who could want me at this hour?
+Grasping a pistol, I walked cautiously into the garden, from whence
+proceeded cries for help. I listened, and could now hear a soft voice
+with a foreign accent whisper:
+
+"'Help, my lord. For pity's sake help me.'
+
+"I immediately thought of the cry, 'Down with the Englishman,' which I
+had heard before. This must be the man who had been thrown in the water.
+I grasped the man, who was shivering with cold and dripping with water,
+and led him into my library. By the light of the lamp I saw he was about
+thirty years old.
+
+"'You have rescued me, sir,' he said in a soft voice, with a peculiar
+accent, 'but you will not find me ungrateful.'
+
+"'Who are you, and what am I to do for you?' I asked him.
+
+"'I was thought to be an English spy in the service of the royalists,'
+he said, laughing sorrowfully, 'and the excited crowd threw me into the
+river. Fortunately, I did not lose my senses; I dived under, swam a
+short distance and then gained the bank.'
+
+"'Then you are not an Englishman?' I asked.
+
+"'I, an Englishman?' he repeated, with his eyes sparkling with rage;
+'what are you thinking of?'
+
+"'But who then are you?' I exclaimed.
+
+"He looked searchingly at me.
+
+"'You are young,' he then said, 'you do not know what betrayal is; I
+will confide in you! Besides, you are a Frenchman and hate the English
+as I do. Tell me where is the Emperor Napoleon at present?'
+
+"'In Paris.'
+
+"'Are you sure?'
+
+"'Positive.'
+
+"'You love the emperor?'
+
+"'I am his faithful servant.'
+
+"'Thank Heaven. Would you assist me to reach Paris?'
+
+"'Paris?' I repeated in astonishment.
+
+"'Yes, I must reach the capital as soon as possible. I must rescue the
+emperor.'
+
+"'The roads are not safe,' I hesitatingly replied, 'and if you have no
+passport--'
+
+"'You are an official,' he interrupted me, 'perhaps a judge?'
+
+"'I am what is called in England attorney for the crown.'
+
+"'Ah, in England there are no judges,' he violently said. 'In England
+are only hangmen! Thank God I am in France; and my ancestors were
+French.'
+
+"'And your home?'
+
+"'Is the Orient, the land of the sun,' he said with emotion, as his eyes
+filled with tears. 'I am an Indian prince.'
+
+"'That is the reason you hate England!' I suddenly exclaimed, as a light
+dawned on me.
+
+"'Hate it! I curse it!' he said, in a choking voice. 'It is the home of
+traitors and murderers.'
+
+"'But did you not tell me a little while ago that you were of French
+descent?'
+
+"'Yes. Have you forgotten the names of those Frenchmen who fought so
+gloriously for India's independence? Dupleix, Labourdonnaye and Lally
+came with an army to India. My father belonged to Lally's detachment,
+and fell on the 27th of October, 1803, in the battle of Laswari. During
+his stay in India, he married a Mahratta at Scindia's court; two
+children resulted therefrom, a boy and a girl, and the son is the one
+you have rescued to-day.'
+
+"'Then you are really a Frenchman?'
+
+"'No; I call myself Mahratta; the blood of my mother betrays itself in
+my veins, for she was the daughter of a prince.'
+
+"'And her name?'
+
+"'I have almost forgotten it myself, as I was not permitted to pronounce
+it for such a long time. About five years ago Scindia began anew the
+struggle against English tyranny. We were defeated in the battle of
+Gwalior, and I and my sister Naya, a beautiful girl of fifteen, were
+taken prisoners by the English. For five years we suffered martyrdom; we
+were brought to England, and finally separated. About two months ago I
+managed to escape. I reached the coast, was taken on board a Spanish
+ship, and finally set foot on French ground. Paris is the place I desire
+to go to. Napoleon has promised us help if we assist him against the
+English. The whole of India will rise up and crush England, and
+Napoleon's throne will be secured forever.'
+
+"The handsome youth stood before me like a prophet, and I
+enthusiastically exclaimed:
+
+"'Whatever I can do to assist your plans shall be done. Tell me your
+name, and I will fill out your passport.'
+
+"'I am the Rajah Siwadji Daola,' he said.
+
+"'And your sister?' I asked; 'is she free, too?'
+
+"'No; but she soon will be. A prince of the Mahrattas followed Naya to
+England; he loves her, and will soon bring her to France.'
+
+"'To France? Have they a place to go to here?' I eagerly asked.
+
+"'Let my sister and her husband find protection in your house,' he
+simply said, 'and the gods will reward you.'
+
+"I hesitated for a moment, and then I cordially answered:
+
+"'Let it be as you say--my house shall be open to your sister!'
+
+"'A thousand thanks,' he joyfully cried. 'And so that you know my
+sister, look here.'
+
+"He took out of his silk belt the half of a peculiarly formed bracelet,
+and handed it to me with the words:
+
+"'Look at this bracelet! Whoever brings you the other half, receive in
+your house as a favor to me. I cannot leave the bracelet with you, but
+if you have a piece of wax I can make an impression which will answer
+the same purpose.'
+
+"Wax was soon found, the broad gold plate, with its numerous
+hieroglyphics, was pressed in it, and after the impression had been
+secured the rajah hid the bracelet in his belt.
+
+"'When can I get the pass?' he asked.
+
+"'To-morrow morning. What name shall I put in?'
+
+"'The name of my father--Jean d'Arras.'
+
+"The rajah, upon my solicitation, threw himself on my bed and slept a
+few hours. As soon as the day dawned he left the house with me,
+enveloped in a wide mantle, and as we had no difficulty in getting the
+necessary passports from the prefecture, he was already that same
+morning on his way to Paris."
+
+"Monsieur de Villefort," said D'Avigny, anxiously, "you are exerting
+yourself too much; postpone the continuation until to-morrow."
+
+
+"No, no," replied Villefort, "I must speak to-day; to-morrow would be
+too late.
+
+"Three months later, Renee de St. Meran became my wife, the battle of
+Waterloo followed, and Napoleon was deposed forever. On the 6th of May,
+1816, my wife gave birth to a child--a daughter. It was very sickly,
+though, and my mother-in-law feared it would not live until the next
+day. On the night following the birth of the child I was sitting reading
+at my wife's bedside, when I heard my name being softly called from the
+direction of the garden. At first I thought I was mistaken, but the cry
+was repeated, and I quietly slipped out. Near the garden hedge lay a
+white form; the moon was shining brightly, and I saw a woman's face of
+extraordinary beauty. Giving vent to a low murmur of astonishment, I
+drew near to the figure; when I perceived the glistening eyes and the
+satiny dark curls, I no longer doubted but what the woman who lay before
+me was Naya, the sister of the Rajah Siwadji.
+
+"'You are Monsieur de Villefort?' she said, in a gentle voice.
+
+"'Yes, and you are Naya,' I said, to make sure.
+
+"'I am. My husband, the Rajah Duttjah, is dead. Save my child!'
+
+"At these words the woman opened the white mantle which covered her,
+and I saw a new-born babe, which was wrapped up in a silk cloth. The
+poor mother looked anxiously at me. I took the child in my arms and a
+happy smile passed over the pale face.
+
+"'Now I can die peacefully,' she whispered; 'my husband died as
+we were about to leave England--I felt myself a mother--I had to
+live. Night and day I have wandered. Barely two hours ago my child
+was born; I dragged myself to the house, but my strength failed
+me--here--is--the--bracelet--'
+
+"She paused suddenly--I bent over her--she was dead. From her cold hand
+I took the half of the gold bracelet, and ran into the house. My wife
+was fast asleep. I laid the child in the cradle near my little daughter,
+and just thinking whether I should call the nurse who slept in the next
+room, when I perceived that I had laid the living child next to a dead
+one. Our little daughter had breathed her last!
+
+"I stood as if struck by lightning. All the proud hopes we had built on
+the child's birth were gone. Suddenly the strange child began to cry,
+and my plan was quickly made. With trembling hands I dressed the strange
+child--it was a girl, too--in the clothes of my own daughter, and
+gathering the silk cloth about the latter, I carried her to the garden
+and placed her in Naya's arms.
+
+"One hour later my wife awoke, and when she asked for our child, I gave
+her Naya's daughter!"
+
+"Did not Madame de Villefort ever hear of the change which had been
+made?" asked the district-attorney.
+
+"Oh, yes; my wife had placed a small chain with a golden cross around
+our child's neck just after it was born; in my hurry I had forgotten to
+put this talisman on the strange child; I first denied, then confessed,
+everything. Instead of heaping reproaches on me, she acquiesced in the
+fraud. The next day my father-in-law came; Naya's daughter was baptized
+under the name of Valentine de Villefort, and on the bed of the child,
+my happy parents-in-law laid my appointment as district-attorney in
+Paris, and bonds to the value of three hundred thousand francs. Naya,
+with the dead child in her arms, was found the next day at our door.
+They were both buried in the potter's field. The papers Naya carried
+were written in the Indian language; they were given to me as a high
+official, and since then they, together with the wax impression and the
+half of the bracelet, have lain in my private portfolio which always
+stands near my bed."
+
+Upon a wink from Villefort, Monsieur de Flambois opened the portfolio
+designated; everything was found there as he had said.
+
+"Did you never hear again from Daola?" said d'Avigny after a pause.
+
+"Yes; three years later the rajah wrote me from India. He had fought at
+Waterloo, was again a captive of the English, and only had an
+opportunity at the end of a year to escape. Together with the Rajah
+Scindia, who later on went over to England, he had again begun the
+struggle for independence; he is now living in the interior of
+Hindustan, waiting for a better opportunity. He asked me for news from
+Naya; I wrote him I knew nothing of her, and that ended our
+correspondence.
+
+"This is my confession. Now use justice and erase from the headstone
+under which Naya's daughter rests the name of Valentine de Villefort."
+
+"Suppose Valentine de Villefort is still alive?" asked D'Avigny
+solemnly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+FORGIVENESS
+
+
+Both Villefort and Monsieur de Flambois uttered a cry of astonishment,
+and while the latter stammered forth an "Impossible," the sick man
+whispered: "To-day miracles do not occur any more!"
+
+"Gentlemen," said the physician quietly, "you know I am a sensible man;
+why should I try to tell you a fable?"
+
+"But I was at the funeral," stammered Flambois.
+
+"I also, and yet I tell you the dead woman lives," persisted D'Avigny,
+"or if we want to call it by its proper name, Valentine de Villefort is
+dead and the daughter of Naya and the Rajah Duttjah lives."
+
+"Then Valentine must have been buried alive," muttered Villefort, fixing
+his eyes upon the physician.
+
+"And if that were the case?" said D'Avigny solemnly.
+
+"Then I would say God has done a miracle to save the innocent," said
+Villefort, the tears starting in his eyes.
+
+"Monsieur de Villefort," said the physician, earnestly, "do you know how
+Valentine died?"
+
+"Too well--she was poisoned by my wife."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Madame de Villefort wished to have Valentine's fortune go to her son."
+
+"That is dastardly," said the district-attorney.
+
+"Do you remember, Monsieur de Villefort," continued D'Avigny, "to have
+seen a mysterious man in your house some time prior to Valentine's
+death, whose mission it appears is to reward the good and punish the
+guilty?"
+
+"Yes, I remember; you mean the Count of Monte-Cristo," said Villefort,
+with emotion.
+
+"The Count of Monte-Cristo," repeated the district-attorney,
+contemptuously, "the adventurer?"
+
+"Sir, do not blaspheme!" exclaimed Villefort, passionately; "if
+Valentine is saved she owes it to that God in the form of man--the Count
+of Monte-Cristo! He alone has the power to change the dead into the
+living. If Valentine lives, I will believe God has pardoned a portion of
+my sins."
+
+"Gentlemen," said the district-attorney, doubtingly, "I only believe
+what I see; if Valentine de Villefort lives, let her show herself."
+
+"Maximilian," called D'Avigny, opening the door, "tell Valentine to come
+in."
+
+"Whom did you just call?" asked Villefort, when D'Avigny had closed the
+door again.
+
+"Maximilian Morrel, Valentine's betrothed, the son of the shipping
+merchant Morrel, of Marseilles."
+
+"Morrel--Marseilles--Edmond Dantes," murmured Villefort. "Ah, there is
+justice in Heaven!"
+
+The door was now opened, and Valentine entered. She strode to
+Villefort's bed and sank on her knees beside it.
+
+"Oh, father," she sobbed, embracing him tenderly. "Thank God, I see you
+again!"
+
+Villefort gazed at Valentine as if she were a spectre; but tears fell on
+the young girl's cheeks, and his lean hands were crossed as if in
+prayer.
+
+"Father, dearly beloved father!" stammered Valentine, weepingly, "why do
+you not speak? Have you no word of welcome for your Valentine?"
+
+"Monsieur de Flambois, do you still doubt?" asked d'Avigny, softly.
+
+"Yes, not your statement, but my reason," said the district-attorney,
+wiping the tears from his eyes.
+
+"Valentine," whispered Villefort, in a broken voice, "kiss me. Now I can
+die easy."
+
+"Oh, father, father, you must not die!" she weepingly cried.
+
+"I must, darling, but I die happy, since I know you will be well taken
+care of. Monsieur Morrel," he said, turning to the young man, "you know
+what unhappiness I once caused your father?"
+
+"No, Monsieur de Villefort, I have forgotten everything, and only know
+that you are Valentine's father," said Maximilian, cordially. "Give us
+your blessing."
+
+"No, no!" said Villefort, anxiously; "I dare not--I am not worthy of it!
+But one thing I can do; I can tell Valentine who she is, and Monsieur de
+Flambois and Monsieur d'Avigny will corroborate my words. Valentine,
+you, whom I have so often called daughter, look at me and listen to my
+words. You are the daughter of the Rajah Duttjah and his wife Naya. The
+marriage of your parents was celebrated at Epping Forest, in England,
+by a Brahmin, who was also a prisoner there; in the portfolio there you
+will find the paper relating to the marriage. Do not look at me so
+fearfully, my poor darling, I am speaking the truth, and these gentlemen
+will tell you later on all the details. Your parents are both dead.
+There is a letter in the portfolio from your mother's brother, the Rajah
+Siwadji Daola. It was written in 1818. If Daola still lives, he will
+find out that I deceived him; that I saw his sister die, and that Naya's
+child still lives."
+
+"But, father," said Valentine, passionately, "if my parents are both
+dead, and you brought me up, I am nevertheless your daughter."
+
+"Thanks, Valentine. But before my strength gives way, I must perform
+another duty. Doctor, a glass of wine; I have one more favor to ask of
+Valentine."
+
+D'Avigny poured out a glass of red wine for Monsieur de Villefort, and
+Valentine put her arm around the dying man's neck, and rested his head
+against her bosom.
+
+"I want you to look after my son, Valentine," whispered Villefort. "Oh,
+what would I not give if I could wear the chains instead of him--what is
+death to the life led by a galley-slave? If it is in your power to do
+anything for Benedetto, do not fail to do it. He is a scoundrel, but I
+was the cause of his downfall. Have mercy on him, and I die peacefully!"
+
+"Father," said Valentine, solemnly, "your wish shall be sacred to me. I
+shall go in search of Benedetto, and bring him your last wishes."
+
+"You are--an--angel," stammered Villefort. "Farewell.
+Ah--this--is--death!"
+
+A shiver ran through Villefort's frame--a deep groan--a long breath--he
+was dead.
+
+As soon as Valentine's first grief subsided, the physician persuaded her
+to stay in her room for the rest of the night, while the gentlemen
+conferred about the wonderful confession they had heard.
+
+"If I only knew," said Flambois, thoughtfully, "what the papers written
+in the Indian language contain--I--"
+
+"Monsieur de Flambois," interrupted young D'Avigny, modestly, "if you
+give me the documents I will translate them for you."
+
+"Really? How can you do it?" asked the district-attorney, doubtingly.
+
+"Very easily. Besides my profession as a doctor, I am an enthusiastic
+Orientalist. I am always in hopes of being able to go to India: the home
+of the lotus flower has always had attractions for me. Give me the
+papers and I will give you the translation to-morrow."
+
+"Here are the papers," said Flambois, thoughtfully.
+
+They then separated.
+
+The next day, as D'Avigny was sitting with his daughter, Julie,
+Valentine and Maximilian at table, a light knock was heard at the door,
+and in obedience to the summons to come in, Ali, Monte-Cristo's black
+servant, appeared on the threshold.
+
+Valentine and Maximilian uttered a cry of surprise. Ali bowed deeply,
+handed the physician a letter, and disappeared.
+
+D'Avigny opened it and read the following:
+
+"Waiting and hoping! In these two words lies the mystery of life. Be
+courageous and God will help."
+
+As soon as Monsieur de Villefort's remains were buried, Valentine,
+Maximilian and Julie returned to Marseilles. Valentine wished to make
+the journey to Toulon, and then go to Italy for the remainder of the
+winter with Maximilian, her grandfather, and the Herbaults. D'Avigny's
+last words at the parting were:
+
+"Beware of Benedetto!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE RAT-KING
+
+
+The days at the Bagnio passed monotonously. The rat furnished the
+evening's amusement, and in the same degree as Benedetto was excited,
+Anselmo remained calm and cool. On the evening of the 24th of February,
+the young man's patience was exhausted, and he forgot himself so much as
+to call Anselmo a liar and traitor, even threatening him with death.
+
+"Come, come," said Anselmo indifferently, "don't be so violent. Instead
+of exciting yourself you had better be calm and tell me what relation it
+has with the million."
+
+"That means," hissed Benedetto, "I should tell you my secret."
+
+"You are a fool," said Anselmo, laughing; "remember that you can never
+get the million without my aid, and therefore leave off your sulks and
+speak."
+
+"You are always right," growled Benedetto. "You have my fate in your
+hands and I must speak. The million, of course, must first be earned--"
+
+"I am not so foolish as to imagine that the million will fly into my
+mouth like a broiled pigeon," interrupted Anselmo; "but first of all, I
+must know if you have some right to this million?"
+
+"Certainly," replied Benedetto; "if the million should slip from my
+grasp, I should look upon myself as being robbed."
+
+"Really--who is the thief?"
+
+"A woman!"
+
+"I thought so; the lady no doubt who took charge of the letter?"
+
+"The same."
+
+"And you must be set free punctually on the 24th?"
+
+"Yes, on the 25th the money would be irredeemably lost."
+
+"H'm! that would be fatal. Well, I shall arrange it."
+
+"You arrange it? Are you ever going to tell me how you intend to set us
+free?"
+
+Anselmo peered cautiously about. The jailers were sleeping in the
+corners, and the other prisoners, as it was Sunday, were amusing
+themselves with the rat, which ran from board to board, performing the
+most difficult tricks.
+
+"I will call our savior at once," whispered Anselmo, and, whistling
+softly, he called the little rat-king to him.
+
+The rat immediately came to its master and climbed upon his knee.
+Anselmo took the animal in his hand, put it on its back, and took from
+under its thick, hairy skin a small, thin instrument called in
+galley-slave slang "cow's tail."
+
+Benedetto uttered a cry of astonishment. Anselmo waved before his
+comrade's eyes a narrow little tooth-saw.
+
+"Do you believe in my promise now?" the ex-priest triumphantly
+exclaimed: "the jailers call our little animal 'rat!' I call him
+'necessary.'"
+
+Benedetto laughed aloud. Anselmo placed the instrument back in its place
+and the little rat-king sprang away, while Benedetto looked at him deaf
+and dumb with astonishment.
+
+"I am convinced now," he finally said, breathing deeply, "and now you
+shall hear how the million is to be got. A lady will come here on the
+24th--"
+
+"Are you sure of it?"
+
+"Positive. On the 25th this woman will draw one million to give to
+others."
+
+"You are joking--she intends to give away a million?"
+
+"Yes, and we two will prevent her," said Benedetto, firmly.
+
+"And who is to get the million?"
+
+"The Church, of course; you understand, now, that I must be free on the
+24th, so as to be able to follow the lady and take the million from
+her."
+
+"Yes, I understand. Who is the woman?"
+
+Benedetto shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Do not bother yourself about that, that is my affair." He answered
+indifferently.
+
+"Is it a former girl of yours?"
+
+"No."
+
+"A relative?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Good. Keep your secret. Tell me one thing more. Will it be a stabbing
+case?"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Don't make yourself so green. From what I know of the world, this
+woman, who intends to give the money to the Church, will not offer it to
+you. You will take it from her, and if she resists--" He finished the
+sentence with a suggestive gesture.
+
+Benedetto became pale as death. He bit his lips and in a hollow voice
+replied:
+
+"What is necessary will occur."
+
+"Good. I am pleased with you; but look--there comes a lady on our
+pontoon. Perhaps that is your millionnairess."
+
+Benedetto looked in the direction indicated. A lady, leaning on the arm
+of a gentleman and accompanied by several high officials, was coming
+toward him.
+
+The Corsican gave vent to an oath and made a movement as if he intended
+to throw himself upon the party. "Redhead," said the jailer, letting his
+heavy stick fall on Benedetto's shoulders, "you are trying to fly away?"
+Benedetto gritted his teeth. He had recognized Valentine, and as she was
+a Villefort, and occupied the place he thought ought to have been his
+own, he would have liked to have wrung her neck. He recognized Morrel,
+whom he had seen in Monte-Cristo's house at Auteuil, and he, too, made
+his anger rise. He thought they had both come to gloat over his shame.
+The head officer whispered a few words to the jailer, and immediately
+afterward Benedetto and Anselmo were ushered into the presence of the
+visitors.
+
+"They take me along too because they can't help it," said Anselmo
+wickedly, pointing to the chain which bound them.
+
+The jailer nodded, and the ex-priest whispered in Benedetto's ear:
+
+"Commit no follies. You look as if you would like to poison every one."
+
+"That is what I should like to do. But have no fear, I will be
+circumspect."
+
+"Which one of you is named Benedetto?" asked the inspector, gruffly,
+turning to the convicts.
+
+"I," said the former Prince Cavalcanti, modestly.
+
+"You are wanted. Follow me, but do not speak a word or else you will be
+put in the black hole."
+
+Benedetto bowed silently, and the next minute stood with his comrade
+before Valentine.
+
+The young girl drew back in terror, as she saw him whom she had thought
+was her brother. She soon collected herself and gently said:
+
+"Sir, Monsieur de Villefort is dead."
+
+Benedetto's eyes shone. He felt a wild joy at the death of the man he so
+bitterly hated.
+
+"On his death-bed," continued Valentine with emotion, "he thought of
+you, and the officials have carried out his last wishes, and allowed me
+to bring you his regards and certain ameliorations for you. From this
+day on you are freed from double chains, and if you conduct yourself
+well in the future, you can hope for other mercies. Farewell, and may
+God be with you."
+
+Valentine's voice broke, Maximilian laid his arm protectingly around the
+young girl and led her away, while Benedetto and Anselmo were brought
+back to their comrades.
+
+"Who is the lady?" asked Anselmo. "She is very handsome."
+
+Benedetto remained silent and the ex-priest looked distrustfully at
+him.
+
+Toward evening the blacksmith came, and Benedetto was freed from
+Anselmo.
+
+"Keep up your spirits," said the jailer to the ex-priest, "and I will
+see what can be done for you. In a few days a new column will arrive,
+and if you conduct yourself properly, I will see that you get no new
+comrade."
+
+"I will let my little rat-king intercede for me," said Anselmo,
+laughing, and the jailer nodded.
+
+The 24th of February dawned, and Benedetto, who had not closed an eye
+during the night, looked so miserable in the morning that Anselmo became
+frightened.
+
+"Come, now, you are frightened, perhaps?" he maliciously asked. The look
+he received from his comrade made him pause.
+
+The prisoners went as usual to work, and gradually Benedetto calmed
+down. The night was to bring the decision, and if Anselmo lied he would
+make him pay dearly for it.
+
+During this time a carriage with four horses rode from Aubagne to
+Beaussuet. At the inn of the latter place it stopped, and while the
+guard put fresh horses in the traces, the occupant of the coach, a
+heavily veiled woman, got out and asked of the postmaster who advanced
+how far it was to the nearest vicarage.
+
+"About fifty steps from the inn," he said.
+
+"Then please let some one come along with me to show me the way," begged
+the lady.
+
+"Directly, madame. Jean, lead this lady to the vicarage."
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Etienne," was the servant's reply, "but the priest is
+not at home."
+
+"What?" said the lady, astonished. "Where is he, then?"
+
+"I do not know. He rode past me this morning. Perhaps the housekeeper
+can tell us," added the servant.
+
+"Good. Let us go there," said the lady, and before the end of five
+minutes they were at the vicarage.
+
+The door was opened by an elderly woman. She made a courtesy when she
+saw the lady, and politely said: "Ah, madame--you are here."
+
+"Were you expecting me?" asked the lady, astonished.
+
+"Certainly; his reverence was unfortunately obliged to go on a journey,
+but there is a letter here for Madame Danglars, if you are the lady."
+
+"I am Madame Danglars," said the lady, quickly.
+
+The old woman handed her a letter, and invited her to make herself at
+home. Upon which she left.
+
+As soon as the lady found herself alone, she hastily tore open the
+letter. It contained a sealed packet, and these lines:
+
+
+     "MADAME--I am, unfortunately, not able to receive you personally. A
+     journey obliges me to be disrespectful. Nevertheless I hope to see
+     you to-morrow, and beg you to make yourself comfortable in my
+     house. All your conditions have been fulfilled. I inclose a note
+     addressed to the port inspector at Toulon and hope everything will
+     turn out as you desire.
+
+                                  "JEAN BALAIS, Curate of Beaussuet."
+
+
+The lady put the letter and the note in her pocket, and as the old lady
+entered with a cup of steaming bouillon, she hesitatingly said:
+
+"Did the priest tell you I was going to stay here over night?"
+
+"Yes, madame! Your room is ready, and I hope you will sleep soundly,"
+replied the woman, cordially.
+
+"The house is safe?" asked Madame Danglars, looking anxiously about.
+
+"Certainly, madame; we are hid here as if in Abraham's bosom."
+
+The lady drank the bouillon, and then said:
+
+"Will you please show me my room?"
+
+"Yes, madame! I hope it will please you," replied the woman, as she
+walked up the stairs, followed by the lady.
+
+Here she opened a door, and the stranger looked in and saw a large,
+plainly furnished room. At one side stood a snow-white bed, a washstand,
+some chairs, and an old-fashioned bureau.
+
+"Does this closet lock?" asked Madame Danglars, examining the lock. "I
+have a jewel-case in the coach which I would like to bring to a place of
+security."
+
+"Ah, the closet is as safe as the poor-box," the old lady assured her.
+
+The lady nodded her pleasure at this, and, after she had convinced
+herself that the door of the room was in order, she went back to the
+coach, took a portfolio from the jewel-casket, and brought it to the
+vicarage. The old lady awaited her at the door; Madame Danglars walked
+past her and went to the upper story, opened the closet, put the box in
+it, closed the door carefully, and put both keys in her pocket. She
+then went downstairs again, and, turning to the old woman, said:
+
+"For the present, good-by; I shall probably be back again before night."
+
+"Good-by, madame; but do not stay out too late. A storm is coming up,
+and the roads of Oliolles are dangerous at night."
+
+"I will try to be back soon. Adieu."
+
+Madame Danglars got into her carriage and drove off in the direction of
+Toulon.
+
+The feelings of the poor woman, who was going to the Bagnio to see
+Benedetto as she had promised, can be imagined. She had seen all her
+hopes reduced to nothing. Her husband had fled after a shameful
+bankruptcy, her lover had deserted her, her daughter had disappeared
+without leaving a word behind her, and what was left to her? The child
+of her shame, who had been sentenced to the galleys for murder.
+
+She had sacrificed everything for this son, whom she loved dearly; the
+Jesuits had taken her million, and saved Benedetto from the gallows.
+Though, to her idea, the galleys was worse than death; but there was a
+chance of his getting free. No, she did not wish to think any more; she
+would bury herself in a convent in Asia Minor, and forget everything.
+
+Toulon was at length reached; the driver took the road to the port, and
+she felt her heart cease beating. In a little while she would see
+Benedetto; the carriage stopped; the driver got out and opened the door.
+
+"Will you please step out? Here is the Bagnio."
+
+With trembling limbs, Madame Danglars left the coach, and slipping a few
+gold pieces into his hand, she said:
+
+"Make yourself comfortable in the nearest saloon; in about three hours
+we shall return home."
+
+"To-day, madame?" asked the man; "that would be impossible."
+
+"Why impossible? Get fresh horses, I will pay you for everything."
+
+"I am very sorry, madame, but the storm, the mistral will come very
+soon, and while the mistral lasts we cannot ride."
+
+"Then I must look for another driver; I cannot delay my return."
+
+"Madame, believe me, you will not find any one who will drive you while
+the storm lasts. Wait till to-morrow. I will put up my horses at the
+Black Eagle and await your commands there."
+
+"I will think about it, but doubt whether I shall follow your advice.
+Adieu."
+
+Madame Danglars entered the office of the port inspector and the driver
+drove off.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+IN THE BAGNIO
+
+
+"Well, what is the matter now?" asked the inspector, gruffly, as Madame
+Danglars handed him the priest's letter. He grumblingly opened the
+letter, but when he had read its contents his face lighted up and,
+making a respectful bow, he said:
+
+"Madame, after reading these lines, I can only carry out all your
+wishes, as far as they are confined within the limits of the rules in
+force here. You desire to see one of our prisoners?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You are aware that such an interview can only take place in the
+presence of the chaplain?"
+
+Madame Danglars became frightened. She had not expected this.
+
+"I will have the chaplain informed," continued the official. "In fact, I
+shall let him come into my office. This is a special favor. Yesterday
+there was a lady here to see Benedetto, who was not permitted to
+converse with him except in the presence of the port inspector and the
+jailer."
+
+"A lady?" exclaimed Madame Danglars, vivaciously. "Can you tell me who
+she was?"
+
+"Oh, certainly, it was Mademoiselle de Villefort, the daughter of the
+recently deceased district-attorney."
+
+"Monsieur de Villefort is dead?" said Madame Danglars in a choking
+voice.
+
+"Yes, madame, he died in a private lunatic asylum in Paris. Did you know
+the gentleman?"
+
+"Yes, slightly," replied Madame Danglars, restraining her emotion. "If
+you would let the gentleman be informed now--"
+
+"At once, madame," said the official.
+
+He wrote a few lines and went away, promising to return shortly. In
+about half an hour the chaplain appeared. He bowed respectfully, and
+said:
+
+"Madame, I am aware of the reason which brings you here."
+
+"What, you know?" exclaimed Madame Danglars, frightened.
+
+"Calm yourself, madame; the secrets which are intrusted to me are
+buried. I must witness your interview as a matter of form, but I shall
+neither hear nor see."
+
+Madame Danglars with tears in her eyes thanked the chaplain. The next
+minute the door opened and Benedetto appeared, accompanied by the
+jailer. When the poor mother saw the yellow and red clothing, the green
+cap, and the chain which led from the waist to the ankle, she uttered a
+low cry and clutched the arm of a chair to prevent herself from
+fainting. Upon a wink from the chaplain, who wore the dress of a Jesuit
+priest, the jailer departed, and after the priest had closed the door,
+he turned toward Benedetto, and said:
+
+"My son, thank God for his mercy, and try to show yourself worthy of
+it."
+
+Neither Madame Danglars nor the priest noticed the smile which flitted
+across the convict's face. Benedetto collected himself immediately, and
+taking off his hat he bent his knee to his mother and crossed his eyes
+with his hand. The priest sat in the window alcove, pulled a prayer-book
+out of his pocket and began to read; Madame Danglars threw a look
+around, then she took the bald-shaved head of Benedetto in her hands and
+sobbingly murmured:
+
+"My poor, poor son!"
+
+"A thousand thanks, mother, for coming," said the hypocritical convict.
+
+"Oh, I desired to come, it was necessary for me to see you again,"
+stammered the poor woman.
+
+"How good you are! Are you aware that my father pursued me even on his
+death-bed? He sent his daughter, my sister, here; she brought me his
+last regards, but she did not give me her hand nor call me brother."
+
+"My son, forget everything bad that has been done to you; forgive your
+enemies, as you desire to be yourself forgiven," implored the poor
+mother.
+
+"For your sake, then. But, tell me, mother, are you really going to
+leave France?"
+
+"Yes; to-morrow, at this hour, I shall sail."
+
+"But you are not going alone; the journey is so far, and I fear danger
+for you."
+
+"Thanks, Benedetto, for your anxiety. How happy you make me. But calm
+yourself, I shall dwell in the society of pious women, who will protect
+me."
+
+"Yes, I forgot. You gave your fortune to buy this protection--the price
+you paid was pretty steep."
+
+"Benedetto, you blaspheme. Your life is not too dear for me to
+purchase."
+
+"I wish I could earn your love," murmured Benedetto, apparently
+annihilated; "you gave up a million to rescue me. If you had more money,
+I am sure you would sacrifice it to secure my full pardon."
+
+"Oh, I do not give up all hope yet," exclaimed Madame Danglars,
+vivaciously.
+
+"What? Have you still got the million?" asked Benedetto, hastily.
+
+"I shall not deliver the money before to-morrow. But that has nothing to
+do with the matter. What I have promised, I keep."
+
+Benedetto remained silent, while a thousand confused ideas ran through
+his mind. He stood with downcast eyes, his left hand carelessly stroking
+his chain and his right crumpling his green cap.
+
+"Mother," he finally said, in a low voice, "there is no use speaking of
+the past--let us think of the future. You are going to depart to-morrow;
+where are you staying now?"
+
+"I live at the vicarage of Beaussuet. The Jesuit fathers recommended me
+there, and I am staying there over-night, although the priest is
+absent."
+
+"Oh, God!" sobbed Benedetto, "if I could only accompany you."
+
+"I would be glad, too; I have a rough road to go back to Beaussuet. The
+mistral blows, and the roads of Oliolles are said to be so dangerous
+that my driver refuses to take me back to-night. Well, I will find
+another one."
+
+"But why do you not stay in Toulon until the morning?"
+
+"Impossible. I must hurry back to Beaussuet. I left the money at the
+vicarage."
+
+"Wasn't that careless? A lonely vicarage, whose owner is absent--"
+
+"I took good care of it; the portfolio containing the money is stowed
+safely away in a tight closet, the key of which I carry."
+
+"But the portfolio must be a large one. It is not so easy to wrap up a
+million," said Benedetto, inquisitively.
+
+"Yes, if I had to deliver the whole sum in coin; but that is not the
+case. Only a small part of the million is in gold, the rest is in
+bank-notes."
+
+Benedetto nodded. He knew now exactly what he had desired to find out,
+and as the chaplain rose, and gently hinted that the time for the
+interview had expired, the convict turned to his mother, and weepingly
+said:
+
+"Bless me, mother."
+
+Madame Danglars placed her trembling hands on his head, and tenderly
+whispered:
+
+"God be with you!"
+
+Her strength deserted her; and while Benedetto was being led out by a
+jailer, she leaned faintingly against a chair.
+
+The priest consoled her. She sorrowfully shook her head, collected
+herself, slipped a thousand-franc note into the priest's hand, and
+murmured:
+
+"Give that to those who are as unhappy as I am."
+
+The next moment she wrapped her cloak firmly about her, and strode
+toward the inn where the driver awaited her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE ESCAPE
+
+
+"Well," said Anselmo to his comrade as the latter returned, "how do
+things stand?"
+
+Benedetto did not answer at first, but seated himself on a block of wood
+and looked steadfastly before him.
+
+"Well, has the million been stolen?" asked Anselmo, growing impatient.
+
+"No, the million is safe for us," replied Benedetto.
+
+"So much the better. This mistral is very favorable to us. It helps our
+escape."
+
+"Really? Anselmo, we must be free in two hours."
+
+"I shall look out for that--but what will happen then? Have you a plan?"
+
+"Yes. Do you know the village of Beaussuet?"
+
+"Yes. It is near the gorge of Oliolles."
+
+"Right. We must reach this village to-night, even though we run the
+danger of being caught and brought back, if we escape by daylight."
+
+"What are you talking about? There is no daylight to-day. One can hardly
+see one's hand now, and in two hours it will be night."
+
+"But suppose we should be locked up in the pontoons?"
+
+"That is what I desire. We must flee by way of the pontoons."
+
+"And our chains?"
+
+"Have you forgotten our little Rat King?"
+
+"You are talking nonsense again."
+
+"Listen, Benedetto. When a million is involved, I never joke. The saw
+our necessary carries will cut our chains in ten minutes. And now to
+work. Here comes the overseer."
+
+The convicts grasped one of the heavy logs and pretended to be working
+hard peeling off the rind. As Anselmo had rightly predicted, one could
+not see one's own hand, and no one observed Anselmo and his companion
+glide toward the pontoon, which was empty.
+
+"Lie flat on the ground," Anselmo ordered, "and feel about with your
+hands."
+
+Benedetto did as he was told. Suddenly he uttered a low cry as his hand
+came in contact with a dark object, which flitted about.
+
+"What a noise you make," grumbled Anselmo. "You have disturbed our poor
+little Rat King from his work."
+
+"Ah, now I feel a split, too. Has the rat gnawed it through?" whispered
+Benedetto, gleefully.
+
+"Certainly. The courageous animal has been working to free us for over a
+month. As you might have noticed, I smeared the floor of our pontoon
+with grease, in consequence of which our shrewd rat has spent all his
+spare moments here, and now his business is ended. The boards are gnawed
+through."
+
+"Ah! then we are to escape by swimming?" asked Benedetto, surprised.
+
+"Have you finally found out? You are not afraid, are you?"
+
+"No, no!" exclaimed Benedetto hastily. "Freedom at any price."
+
+"Now you please me! Let us go now and take up our work again before our
+absence is noticed."
+
+"One word more! Have you thought of our clothes?"
+
+"I have thought of everything. Trust in me."
+
+The convicts returned to their work, but soon after the weather became
+so bad that the jailers stopped work and formed the prisoners in columns
+to return them to the pontoons. The storm broke with such fury that the
+masts snapped and the sails flew about. A piece of a mast knocked a
+convict overboard, and when he was fished up his skull was found to be
+fractured. A cry of terror ran through the lines and the jailers
+hastened to bring the columns to the pontoons. Benedetto and Anselmo
+cowered in their corners and listened to the roar of the mistral. The
+louder it became, the more their hearts beat with joy.
+
+"Are you ready?" whispered Anselmo to his comrade.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then forward! It is a question of life or death."
+
+They both lay flat on the ground and Anselmo drew from a hole a package
+wrapped in sail cloth. "Here, take this package," the ex-priest told his
+companion, "and give it to me as soon as I am in the water. Do you see
+the plank which our little pet gnawed through? Well, it can be shoved
+aside, and by that way we come to a cave where instruments and nails are
+kept. In this cave is a door, to which I have the key which locks it.
+Now pay attention; I am turning the key. Forward, in the devil's name!"
+Through the open door Anselmo carefully glided into the water, which
+surged and roared. Benedetto handed him the package and glided likewise
+into the river, and while the pontoon creaked and groaned, torn by the
+force of the storm, the two convicts disappeared in the darkness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+IN THE MOUNTAIN PASS OF OLIOLLES
+
+
+Madame Danglars had returned to the inn and asked feverishly for fresh
+horses, so as to be able to drive to Beaussuet. The innkeeper politely
+assured her it was impossible to carry out her wishes. Madame Danglars,
+without changing a muscle, looked steadily at the man. To her idea money
+could do anything, and she therefore opened her purse, and placing five
+hundred francs on the table, asked once more for fresh horses. The
+innkeeper immediately remembered that there was a man in Toulon who
+would risk his own and his horses' lives for money, and he sent a
+messenger for him. Two long hours passed before the messenger returned.
+He brought a favorable answer. Father Jacob, that was the man's name,
+would come at four o'clock with two good horses.
+
+"Who is this Father Jacob?" asked Madame Danglars of the innkeeper.
+
+"Oh, he is a former city boarder," replied the host, laughing, as he
+gave a suggestive glance in the direction of the Bagnio.
+
+Madame Danglars shuddered.
+
+"Does he know how to drive?" she asked.
+
+"Like Satan. He used to be a driver of the mail coach, but got a few
+years in the galleys for assisting robbers to plunder the mails. He is
+now, however, a good, honest man, and you can safely trust yourself to
+his care."
+
+What was the baroness to do? She patiently sat down, and breathed more
+freely when the clock struck four, and the expected coachman arrived
+with two splendid horses.
+
+"So you want to drive me to Beaussuet?" asked Madame Danglars,
+vivaciously.
+
+"Yes, madame, for five hundred francs."
+
+"Then harness your horses at once."
+
+"But," stammered the ex-convict, scratching his head, "I make it a rule
+to take money in advance."
+
+"Good! Here is the money, and go quick, because I am in a hurry."
+
+"I am in a hurry to go too. The roads will not get any better, and the
+mountain passes of Oliolles are not easy to ride over, even in good
+weather."
+
+In less than a quarter of an hour, the baroness sat in the coach. The
+innkeeper stood at the door, and, as the horses started, he whispered to
+the coachman: "Take care of yourself, old fellow. You know you have
+every reason to be prudent."
+
+"I will be so," replied Jacob, as he whipped the horses and drove off.
+
+In the meantime, the storm continued with unabated vigor, tearing up
+trees, rolling the waves mountains high, and sometimes shaking the heavy
+coach as if it had been a feather. The horses seemed to care as little
+for the weather as the coachman. Madame Danglars, however, became
+terribly excited, and, sobbing bitterly, cowered in a corner of the
+carriage. Around about her, as within her, all was dark. She still
+thought she heard the rattling of Benedetto's chains in the roar and
+fury of the storm--she thought she could distinguish the soft voice of
+Benedetto. Suddenly a sharp jolt was felt, the coachman uttered an oath,
+and Madame Danglars sank in a semi-unconscious condition against the
+cushions of the coach.
+
+When she recovered herself she became aware that one of the horses had
+stumbled; the coachman was still swearing, and tried to raise the animal
+up. Suddenly he came to the carriage door, and grumblingly said:
+
+"Madame, I must give you your money back. We will not be able to reach
+Beaussuet."
+
+The storm whistled and roared with bitter fury. Madame Danglars looked
+anxiously at the man, and in a hollow voice asked:
+
+"Where are we?"
+
+"The devil only knows. These passes look all alike."
+
+"But we cannot remain here. What would become of us?" said the poor
+woman sobbing.
+
+"Come, come, do not carry on so," Jacob consolingly said.
+
+"These passes have always been dangerous. Thirty years ago I met with a
+misfortune at this same place; oh, when I think of that time--"
+
+The face of the ex-convict darkened; Madame Danglars looked anxiously at
+him, and murmured softly:
+
+"May God have mercy upon me!"
+
+The man paused for a moment and then said:
+
+"I know another way out of the difficulty. We could return to Oliolles,
+which is fifteen minutes distant, and some one there would fix my axle,
+which the horse in falling broke. We could wait at Oliolles until the
+storm subsides. It won't rage so furiously long. I know the mistral
+well."
+
+"And you promise me you will go ahead again as soon as the storm is
+over?"
+
+"As true as I stand here," the man replied.
+
+Madame Danglars rose up and got out, while Jacob unharnessed the horses
+and took one of the coach lamps in his hand.
+
+"Now follow me," he said, holding the lantern aloft.
+
+He threw the reins about his arm and strode bravely along, while Madame
+Danglars slowly walked behind.
+
+As Jacob had said, the storm had decreased in intensity. A fine rain
+poured down, and the poor woman strode on with renewed courage.
+
+Suddenly the storm cast a curiously formed thing at the feet of the
+pedestrians. Jacob picked it up and laughed loudly, as he put a
+convict's green cap, for such it was, upon his head.
+
+"Almighty God!" exclaimed Madame Danglars in terror.
+
+"Madame," said Jacob, confused, "I did not want to frighten you. I was
+only glad to see such a cap after so long a time."
+
+"How did the cap get here?" asked Madame Danglars, excitedly.
+
+"That is easy to say. A convict has thought fit to free himself from the
+kindly care of the Bagnio attendants, and as the beautiful costume of
+the galley slaves is universally known, he has changed his toilet and
+thrown his cap, jacket and trousers to the winds."
+
+Madame Danglars became excited, but she kept silent. They soon reached
+the house at Oliolles. The church bell of the village struck eight
+o'clock. Jacob went to the nearest inn, and, tying his horses to a tree,
+he entered the smoky little saloon, accompanied by his companion.
+
+The innkeeper immediately hurried toward them, and while Madame Danglars
+ordered a glass of brandy for the coachman, the latter went to the
+kitchen to get the nails and cords he required to fix his broken axle.
+He threw the green cap carelessly on the table. Several people who sat
+there threw curious glances at the despised head-dress. Finally one of
+them said:
+
+"Where did you get that pretty cap?"
+
+"My coachman found it," said Madame Danglars softly.
+
+"On the road?" exclaimed the men, rising as if electrified.
+
+"We must hurry! Who is going along?"
+
+"I--I!" came from all sides, and, as Madame Danglars looked from one to
+the other, the innkeeper said:
+
+"There is a reward, madame, given by the city of Toulon for the capture
+of an escaped convict, and where a convict's cap is found they naturally
+conclude that the owner must be near at hand. At present wages are low,
+and one must not blame our peasants if they try to make something extra.
+I can guarantee you that the prisoner will be captured before two hours
+more have passed."
+
+"The escaped convict cannot have been long in the Bagnio!" exclaimed a
+peasant looking closely at the cap. "The thing is almost new."
+
+"Is there no name on the lining?" asked another.
+
+"No, only a number--88!"
+
+Madame Danglars gave a loud scream and with difficulty stammered:
+
+"Show me the cap?"
+
+Yes, there could be no doubt, the cap bore the number 88, the same which
+she had noticed on Benedetto's clothing. Had he escaped? And now these
+people wished to hunt him down like a wild animal, and he would not be
+able to hide from them.
+
+"We must be going," said one of the peasants; "the convict cannot be far
+away, and who knows but we shall have luck and find two. It seldom
+happens that one escapes alone, the double chain is a good invention.
+Are you all ready?"
+
+"Listen to me, gentlemen," said Madame Danglars firmly; "I will make you
+a proposition. Let the convict escape."
+
+"And our hundred francs?"
+
+"You will lose nothing! I will give you two hundred francs. It might be
+a humor, but I cannot reconcile myself to the thought of having a man
+pursued as if he were a wild animal."
+
+The men looked up.
+
+"The weather is terrible," said one.
+
+"And a bird in the hand is worth two in a bush," said another.
+
+"But we are three?" said the third, with a look of cupidity.
+
+"You shall have three hundred francs, but let the convict escape."
+
+"Good, madame! Your wish shall be fulfilled," said the men, after a
+pause; "but suppose he should be captured by some one else?"
+
+"That cannot be helped," said Madame Danglars. "Who knows but what the
+poor fellow might get free this time. I saw the Bagnio to-day, and since
+then I am terribly nervous. It was frightful."
+
+At this minute a shot was heard, and a firm voice cried:
+
+"Help! help! Hold him!"
+
+The innkeeper ran out, followed by the men. Madame Danglars crouched in
+a corner, and prayed to God to let her die before she should see her
+son.
+
+The door was now torn open, and a great crowd entered the room.
+
+"Forward, you horse thief," Jacob's rough voice was heard saying; "we
+just captured you in time."
+
+A man whose face was covered with blood was pushed into the room. He
+fought desperately, throwing chairs and tables about, and falling flat
+on the ground.
+
+"Let me alone," he cried, breathlessly. "I am tied already. I cannot
+escape."
+
+Madame Danglars muttered a prayer of gratitude. No, that was not
+Benedetto's voice.
+
+"Yes, we have got you," replied Jacob; "but the other one who took my
+horse has escaped! Would you believe it," he said, turning to the
+people, "that the other rascal ran off with my horse? While I was
+getting cord and nails I heard a noise in the courtyard. I ran to the
+spot, and saw two men getting on the backs of my horses. Quick as
+thought I pulled out my pistol and fired. One of them fell, but before I
+could load again the other had disappeared! But I shall get him, and may
+God have mercy on him. Quick, a glass of brandy, and may the devil take
+him!"
+
+While the people crowded about Jacob, Madame Danglars drew near to the
+convict.
+
+"Did Benedetto accompany you?" asked Madame Danglars, softly.
+
+Anselmo looked up surprised.
+
+"Ha! the lady who gave me the letter for Benedetto," he murmured.--"Yes,
+Benedetto accompanied me."
+
+"I want to save him; help me, and I will make you rich."
+
+Lo! that was the lady with the million. Anselmo looked cautiously about,
+then whispered softly:
+
+"Cut my cords. A knife lies over there."
+
+Madame Danglars let her handkerchief fall on the table; when she picked
+it up she held a knife in her trembling hands; one cut and Anselmo was
+free. At the same moment she got up and stood in front of the door.
+
+"Now, good-night," said Jacob, putting the empty glass down and drawing
+his pistol from his pocket.
+
+At the same instant Anselmo sprang forward, and, seizing the pistol, he
+clutched Madame Danglars under the arm as if she were a child, and ran
+out of the room with her. Madame Danglars at once realized the
+situation. While Anselmo pressed against the door with all his strength,
+Madame Danglars, who was a splendid horsewoman, sprang into the saddle.
+Anselmo then let go of the door, fired a shot into the crowd which
+surrounded him, and likewise bounded on to the back of the horse. The
+animal reared, but receiving a slight cut with the knife Madame Danglars
+still held in her hand, it flew like the wind, bearing the two far from
+their pursuers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE MOTHER
+
+
+Benedetto, who had been told the way to Beaussuet by Anselmo, whipped
+his horse severely, making it fly over the stones and pavement. The
+vicarage was situated at the entrance to the village; the horse was
+covered with blood and foam, but Benedetto knew no mercy. Like a flash
+of lightning horse and rider flew along, and when the horse finally
+broke down, the first houses in the village had been reached.
+
+Benedetto jumped off, but did not throw a look at the dying horse; he
+only thought of himself and his safety. He thought Anselmo had fallen
+into the hands of the people at Oliolles. That his companion would not
+betray him he knew, but the coachman had seen him and he would be
+pursued. There was no way out of it. He must get possession of the
+million, and then try to reach the coast.
+
+Benedetto recognized the vicarage at the first glance, as his mother had
+described it accurately to him. An olive-tree stood inside the wall near
+the entrance. Benedetto took between his teeth the knife Anselmo had
+given him, and swung himself over the wall and thence on to the
+window-sill. The wretch hesitated a moment before he broke the pane.
+Suppose his mother uttered a cry.
+
+"Ah, bah," he thought, "it will be her own fault."
+
+With a quick movement he broke the glass.
+
+Taking out a small thieves'-lantern and some matches, which Anselmo had
+also given him, he struck a light and looked around. The bed was empty.
+
+"The mistral delayed her," muttered Benedetto; "I must be quick."
+
+Hastily plunging his knife into the closet, he opened the door, and was
+soon in possession of the portfolio. He put it on the table and tried to
+open the lock with his knife. But in vain; it would not open.
+
+At this moment his sharp ear detected the sound of horses' hoofs.
+
+"The pursuers," he muttered, and for a moment he was dazed.
+
+He collected himself rapidly. He did not wish to be caught, yet did not
+desire to lose the million. Taking the portfolio in his hand, he opened
+the window and was about to spring out when he paused. Unless he had the
+use of both of his hands, he could not hope to reach the wall, and he
+did not think of leaving his plunder behind him. Now he heard voices.
+His pursuers must have halted under the olive-tree; a horse whinnied,
+there was no chance of escape! He ran to the door. It was shut tight,
+and now it recurred to him that his mother had told him she carried the
+key in her pocket.
+
+What was he to do? Alive he would not be captured, and the bandit who
+hesitated to draw his knife against his pursuers was a coward. He
+himself dreaded death, and he therefore carefully tried to remove the
+lock with his knife. Perhaps he could escape anyhow!
+
+He had just removed two screws, when he heard heavy steps coming up the
+stairs. His pursuers were at his heels.
+
+With the portfolio under his arm and his knife held aloof in his hand,
+he waited. A key was inserted in the lock now, the door opened, and a
+figure entered the room.
+
+But it did not proceed far. Benedetto's knife sank down and a hot stream
+of blood squirted into the face of the murderer, who had struck his
+victim in the breast. At the same moment Benedetto felt himself seized
+by a hand of iron and thrown down, while a well-known voice cried in his
+ear:
+
+"Miserable scoundrel, it was your mother--your mother, and you knew it!"
+
+The man who said this in a voice of thunder was none other than Anselmo,
+the galley slave, the ex-priest who had disgraced his cloth, but who was
+innocent in comparison to his comrade Benedetto.
+
+He shook the Corsican like a madman, and continually repeated the words:
+
+"Scoundrel! Murderer! Monster! It is your mother!"
+
+Madame Danglars lay groaning on the floor, the knife was buried up to
+the hilt in her breast, and yet she did not utter a cry as she
+recognized her murderer. She restrained herself with superhuman power,
+fearing to give the alarm to Benedetto's pursuers.
+
+"Benedetto," she faintly whispered, "you have killed me--but you did not
+know it was I, did you? Oh, sir," she added, turning to Anselmo, "leave
+him alone, he must escape--quick!"
+
+Anselmo obeyed. During their desperate ride, he had been told by the
+poor mother what Benedetto was to her. He knew Benedetto would go to
+the extreme, and his heart stopped beating as he thought of the
+unnatural son! He had urged the horse on at a wild gallop, so as to
+bring Benedetto's mother to the vicarage in safety. His own safety was
+of secondary importance to him, when it was a question of protecting a
+mother from the knife of her son. He intended to alarm the house; that
+Benedetto would arrive there before them he had not imagined.
+
+"Sir," muttered the baroness, faintly, "swear to me that you will let
+Benedetto escape. Do not pursue him, and I die peacefully."
+
+"I swear it," said Anselmo, in a hollow voice.
+
+"Thanks, a thousand thanks! Benedetto, embrace me and fly."
+
+The bandit stood as if transfixed, and gazed at the dying woman, and
+only when Anselmo touched him by the arm and drew him to the groaning
+woman, exclaiming: "Do as she says, or I will kill you," did he
+condescend to press his forehead to her cold lips.
+
+"Benedetto," she whispered faintly.
+
+Her breath ceased--she was dead.
+
+"I have the million," said Benedetto, after a pause, "come!"
+
+Instead of answering, Anselmo tore the knife from out of the breast of
+the dead woman and, holding it toward the son, hissed:
+
+"Go, monster, or I shall break my oath and kill you."
+
+Benedetto hesitated no longer, took the portfolio which lay on the
+floor, and bounded down the stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+ON THE SEA
+
+
+Since that eventful evening at the vicarage of Beaussuet eight days have
+passed. On the evening of the eighth day a sharp northeast wind blew and
+whipped the waves of the Mediterranean Sea so violently that they rose
+mountain high and almost buried a small frigate under their white caps.
+The captain of the frigate stood at the helm and hoarsely roared out his
+commands to the sailors, but they did not understand him, and when the
+storm tore off the mainmast a loud outcry was heard. The captain was the
+only one who did not lose his senses. With his axe he chopped off the
+remaining pieces of the mast, and turning to his crew, his face
+convulsed with passion, he said:
+
+"Thunder and lightning! what do you mean by disobeying my orders? Have
+you got cotton in your ears?"
+
+"No, captain," replied the oldest sailor, "we do not disobey your
+orders, but why should we carry them out, since we are lost anyhow?"
+
+As if in confirmation of his words a terrific wind threw the frigate on
+its side, and even the captain could hardly sustain himself on his feet.
+
+"You are miserable cowards," he cried to the sailors; "one would
+imagine you had never seen a storm before! Do you still remember how the
+frigate was almost wrecked off Malta, and yet we saved our lives
+then?--"
+
+"Yes, captain," interrupted a sailor, "but that was different."
+
+"How so? What do you mean? Open your mouth, or--"
+
+"That time we did not have any branded men on board," said the sailor,
+firmly.
+
+"No branded men? Are you mad?"
+
+"No, captain; but so long as we have these unhappy men on board the
+storm rages, and neither God nor the devil can save us. Look over there;
+there he lies on the floor, and, Jesus, Mary and Joseph!--another such a
+crash and we shall be food for the sharks!"
+
+Unconsciously the captain looked in the direction indicated. A man,
+whose face could not be seen, lay flat on the vessel, his arms nervously
+clutching a package enveloped in a piece of sail-cloth. Now and then a
+tremor ran through his frame. He was apparently greatly frightened.
+
+"What's the matter with the man?" asked the captain, gruffly.
+
+"When he came on board at St. Tropez he was covered with blood, and--"
+
+"Well, what then?"
+
+"Well, his hair is shaved clean to the skin, as if he just came from the
+Bagnio."
+
+"One would think," exclaimed the captain, loudly, "you are all saints.
+Do you remember, Pietro, what you had done before I shipped you?"
+
+"Bah! I killed a Custom House officer, that is no crime."
+
+"So, and what was the matter with you, Rosario?"
+
+"Captain," answered Rosario, proudly, "you ought to know what a vendetta
+is."
+
+"Didn't I say so? You are all as innocent as newborn babes. You ought to
+be ashamed of yourselves."
+
+In spite of his apparent indifference, the captain felt inwardly uneasy,
+and the sailors' statements appeared to him to be well founded.
+
+About four days before, as the frigate lay at anchor at St. Tropez, a
+man had approached the captain and offered him three thousand francs if
+he would take him along and land him on the Italian coast. Gennaro, the
+captain and owner of a smuggling vessel, did not hesitate long. Three
+thousand francs was a large sum, and as the passenger paid cash he
+overlooked certain things which he might otherwise have noticed. The
+closely shaved head pointed to a former galley slave, but as he
+conducted himself well on board and kept out of every one's way, the
+captain no longer thought about it.
+
+The sailors, however, thought differently. With that superstition
+peculiar to Italians, they blamed the strange passenger for all the
+mishaps which had befallen the vessel since the "Shaven Redhead," as
+they called him, had come on board the vessel. On the first night a
+sudden storm carried away the rudder, on the second day one of the
+planks near the helm split, and the storm kept on increasing, finally
+reaching such a height that even Gennaro, the veteran sailor, could not
+remember to have ever seen one like it.
+
+The boatswain now approached Gennaro.
+
+"Well, Mello," said the captain, trying to appear indifferent, "do you
+also think the frigate is lost because the branded man is on board?"
+
+"Yes," replied Mello, briefly, "if God does not perform a miracle."
+
+At this moment a terrific crash was heard, and with loud cries the
+sailors rushed on deck.
+
+"A waterspout; we are sinking!" they exclaimed, terror-stricken. "Help,
+captain, help!"
+
+Immense waves of water poured over the deck and tore away part of the
+stern, making a deep hole in the frigate, which rapidly filled with
+water.
+
+"To the pumps, men!" exclaimed Gennaro--"to the pumps!"
+
+This time his command was immediately obeyed. The feeling of
+self-protection was stronger than their superstition, and the sailors
+were soon hard at work at the pumps.
+
+Only two persons remained behind.
+
+"Pietro," said one of them to the other, "are you anxious to swallow
+water?"
+
+"_Corpo di Dio_, no!"
+
+"How do you expect to save yourself?"
+
+"Oh, there is still a remedy!"
+
+The men exchanged knowing looks, and then one of them whispered:
+
+"Be careful; do not let the captain hear of it; he might hinder us."
+
+"He would be foolish enough to do so. We are heading straight for Elba,
+on the rocks of which we will be hopelessly dashed, if we do not take
+our steps beforehand. Let me attend to it as soon as she lies in the
+water."
+
+As he said this, he looked toward the stranger, who was still lying
+motionless on the deck.
+
+"Comrade," said Pietro to the stranger, "are you aware that we are
+sinking?"
+
+A look of horror met the speaker, and then Benedetto, for it was he,
+said:
+
+"Is there no rescue possible?"
+
+"Oh, yes; with money you can do anything."
+
+"Then rescue me, and I will pay you what you ask."
+
+"Then listen. The frigate has but one boat. Follow us and make no noise.
+We will get into the boat and push off. For the rest, may God look out."
+
+Benedetto nodded. When had he ever said no to any deviltry?
+
+With staggering steps he followed the two sailors.
+
+"Here!" exclaimed Pietro.
+
+Benedetto could not see his hands before his eyes and blindly followed
+his guides. Suddenly he felt himself grasped by strong arms, and the
+next minute he was hurled headlong into the sea. The sailors had thrown
+him overboard to save the ship!
+
+The package enveloped in sail cloth, and which contained his fortune,
+the wretch firmly clasped.
+
+The waves threw him here and there. He lost consciousness. Suddenly he
+came to; a wave had thrown him upon a rock, and his forehead struck
+violently on a sharp stone. A dark stream of blood flowed over the pale
+face of the parricide, and heaving a deep sigh he lost consciousness
+anew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+MONTE-CRISTO
+
+
+The storm had subsided and the stars shone clear and bright upon the
+softly rippling sea as a yacht plowed swiftly through the blue waters. A
+man enveloped in a long cloak leaned with folded arms against the
+railing and thoughtfully peered into the stream. He shuddered slightly
+as a small white hand was softly laid upon his arm. The next minute,
+however, he grasped the hand, pressed it to his lips, and gazed tenderly
+with his sparkling eyes, which shone like dark stars, upon a handsome
+young woman.
+
+The young woman wore the costume of the inhabitants of Epirus; the fine
+white silk dress, which inclosed the slim, beautifully shaped form,
+looked like freshly fallen snow, and the embroidered flowers on her
+broad belt could hardly be distinguished from real plants.
+
+"My darling," said the man softly, as he pressed a kiss upon the
+raven-black hair.
+
+"Oh, how I love you, my friend, my husband," she whispered in the same
+tone.
+
+"Did the storm frighten you, Haydee?" asked the man anxiously.
+
+"I am never frightened when you are near me," the pretty Greek
+laughingly replied; "you ought to know me better."
+
+"Nature, Haydee, is sometimes stronger than the will of man."
+
+"But God supervises the actions of nature, as he does the hearts of
+men," said Haydee, casting a look full of childish confidence at the
+starry sky.
+
+"Are you aware, Haydee, that we shall reach our destination in an hour?"
+
+"Yes, and when we land at Monte-Cristo you will tell me the story of
+your life, and I shall then find out the nature of the sorrow you have
+undergone."
+
+"Haydee, the sorrow belongs to the past; the future at your side has in
+store for me only joy and happiness. From your pure lips the sentence,
+whether I am to be damned or saved, must come."
+
+At this moment an old sailor approached them and in a tone of awe said:
+
+"Count, are we going to Monte-Cristo?"
+
+"Yes, Jacopo; you and your men stay on board, while Bertuccio and Ali
+accompany us. We shall only stay a few hours. Send Ali to me, and see to
+it that the yacht reaches its destination soon."
+
+Jacopo bowed, and shortly afterward Ali appeared.
+
+"Ali," said the count, turning to the Nubian, "have you carried out my
+orders?"
+
+Ali folded his arms across his breast and nodded his head.
+
+"And you know that your life is at stake?"
+
+Ali again nodded.
+
+"Good; you can go."
+
+"You frighten me," said Haydee, clinging to the count. "Ali is so
+devoted to you, and if we should lose him--"
+
+"Have no fear, child; we will not lose him if he does his duty."
+
+Like lightning the Ice Bird--for such was the name of the yacht--flew
+over the hot waves, which were bathed in the first rays of the morning
+sun, and soon the rude rocks of the island of Monte-Cristo were in view
+of the travellers. Haydee stood leaning against her husband's shoulder,
+and watched the play of the glistening waves, while before
+Monte-Cristo's eyes the past rose like a vision.
+
+Ten years before, in February, 1829, Jacopo had taken him, who had
+passed fourteen long years in the Chateau d'If, into his service.
+Caderousse, Ferdinand, Danglars, and Villefort had been his enemies, and
+now justice had overtaken all of them. The treasure of the Abbe Faria
+had placed Edmond Dantes in a position to play an important part in the
+world as the Count of Monte-Cristo, and, now that he saw his plans
+realized, and the traitors punished, Monte-Cristo felt his soul stirred
+by doubts. Faria had intended to establish the unity of Italy with the
+legendary wealth of the Spadas. Later on he had given his treasure to
+Edmond Dantes to do with as he pleased; like the angel with the fiery
+sword, Monte-Cristo had punished the guilty, and now--
+
+"Count," said Bertuccio, "we shall land directly. Have you any new order
+for me?"
+
+"No, Bertuccio; you know my orders for Ali; they suffice."
+
+Bertuccio departed, and immediately afterward the ship came to anchor.
+
+The count laid his arm on the shoulder of the pretty Greek, and
+tenderly led her to the boat in waiting. Ali and Bertuccio followed, and
+the little vessel, driven by four strong oarsmen, flew like an arrow
+through the water.
+
+The boat soon reached the beach, and Monte-Cristo carried Haydee in his
+arms to land. He motioned to Bertuccio and Ali, and, turning to the
+sailors, said:
+
+"Come back for us in two hours."
+
+The bark disappeared, and Monte-Cristo walked in the direction of the
+grotto. Haydee followed him, feeling as if she were entering some
+sanctuary, since it was at Monte-Cristo that she became the wife of the
+man whom she loved above everything else in the world.
+
+The count divined the young woman's thoughts and drawing her toward him,
+he whispered: "My darling, at this place you became mine. To-day I wish
+to hear from your own lips whether I really deserve my happiness."
+
+The subterranean palace housed the travellers. Fragrant perfumes filled
+the magnificent halls, and in the light of the wax candles the gold and
+silver service shone with fairy-like splendor.
+
+Monte-Cristo conducted Haydee to a charming boudoir; her feet sank in
+wavy carpets, and after she had seated herself with incomparable grace
+on a divan, the count stood beside her and proceeded to relate the story
+of his life. It was a long time before he had finished his tale. Haydee
+felt with him the horrors of his prison, she sobbed as he described the
+death of Faria, whom he called his spiritual father, and cried out in
+terror as she heard that the cemetery of Chateau d'If was the wide sea!
+Then he had dug out Faria's treasure. How rich he thought himself then,
+and how poor he was at the moment when he set foot on the land and heard
+that his father had died of starvation, and that Mercedes, his bride,
+had forgotten him and married the man who had betrayed him.
+
+He had sworn then that he would revenge himself and punish all those who
+had sinned against him. Villefort, Caderousse, Danglars and Morcerf had
+succumbed to him, and he could now triumphantly exclaim: "I am your
+master; I have punished all of you as you have deserved."
+
+"Haydee," said Monte-Cristo finally, "what is your decision?"
+
+"That you have fulfilled the mission which God has placed in your hands
+according to his wish and desire. God was with you, for you have dealt
+out justice," exclaimed Haydee, her eyes sparkling.
+
+"And now, Haydee--now--"
+
+"Now justice is satisfied and you will become merciful," whispered the
+young woman softly.
+
+"I wish to do so, Haydee, so help me God; for each act of revenge I will
+place a good deed in the eternal scales, and the years which still
+remain to me shall be devoted to the noblest aims of humanity. I--"
+
+Suddenly Monte-Cristo paused, a slight motion from Ali showed that
+something unexpected had happened, and, hastily drawing Haydee with him,
+he left the grotto.
+
+"What's the matter, Ali?" he asked, turning to the Nubian, who stood
+uneasily on a sharp ledge of the rock.
+
+Ali threw himself at full length on the ground and closed his eyes.
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed the count, "you have a man on this rock?"
+
+Ali nodded gleefully.
+
+"And do you know who he is?"
+
+Ali's look expressed doubt. He put his hand to his forehead and shook
+his head to indicate that his memory had deserted him.
+
+"Is the man wounded?"
+
+"Yes," nodded Ali.
+
+"Dead?"
+
+"No," shaking his head.
+
+"But he is not able to move?"
+
+Ali's face lighted up again when he saw he was understood.
+
+"Haydee," said the count, turning to his wife, "I look upon it as a good
+sign that God has permitted me at this minute to do an act of charity.
+Remain here, while I go with Ali to save the poor fellow."
+
+"I shall accompany you," said Haydee, pleadingly; "let me take part in
+your good deeds."
+
+"Then come, my darling," said Monte-Cristo, in whose eye a tear
+glistened, and they both followed Ali, who hurried toward the beach.
+
+As they passed by the entrance to the grotto, Haydee noticed that
+Bertuccio was making a hole in the rock with his pickaxe.
+
+"What is Bertuccio doing?" asked Haydee, curiously.
+
+"You shall find out later on," replied the count, and, turning to
+Bertuccio, he asked in a low voice:
+
+"Is the work nearly finished?"
+
+"Almost, count. I have just one thing more to do, and as soon as you
+give the sign, all will be over."
+
+"Very well, Bertuccio, and now follow us."
+
+The Corsican looked wonderingly at the count, and, taking his pick in
+his hand, walked behind. When they had reached the rear part of the
+little island, Ali paused and pointed to a rock which projected into the
+sea.
+
+Monte-Cristo's eyes followed the Nubian's direction, and he recognized a
+human body lying at full length upon a rock. The face was turned aside,
+and a dark pool of blood indicated a wound. The man's right hand
+convulsively clutched a package. With a bound Monte-Cristo had reached
+the side of the motionless man, and taking him in his strong arms, he
+carried him to a small grass plot and carefully laid him down.
+
+"Ali," he ordered, "run to the grotto and get some rum. Do not lose a
+minute, it is a question of life and death."
+
+The Nubian departed, and Monte-Cristo laid his hand upon the wounded
+man's breast.
+
+"He still lives," he exclaimed, breathing more freely, "and with God's
+help we will save him."
+
+Suddenly a terrible cry was heard behind him, and Bertuccio stammeringly
+exclaimed:
+
+"Oh, sir, it is the wretch, the murderer! Do you not recognize him?"
+
+The count bent over the wounded man, and washing the blood from his face
+he exclaimed in horror:
+
+"Really, it is Benedetto!"
+
+"Back, sir," cried Bertuccio in a rage, as he swung his pickaxe, "I will
+crush the viper's skull."
+
+The pick cleaved through the air, but before it descended on
+Benedetto's head, the count had grasped it, and with a powerful movement
+hurled it into the sea.
+
+"Bertuccio," he said coldly, "what right have you to play the judge in
+my presence?"
+
+"Oh, sir, pardon. Anger overcame me. Benedetto burned Assunta, my
+sister-in-law and his foster mother, so as to get her money; he only
+lived from robbery and murder."
+
+"He is a man, he must be saved."
+
+Ali came now with the rum. The count poured a few drops into Benedetto's
+throat, Haydee rubbed his temples, and in a few minutes the wretch
+uttered a deep sigh and his lips moved, though his eyes still remained
+closed.
+
+The count examined the wound.
+
+"He will live," he said decisively. "The wound is not dangerous."
+
+"It would be better for society if he died," hissed Bertuccio.
+
+"Bertuccio," said the count sternly, "get some water and wash out this
+wound."
+
+"But, count, I--"
+
+"Yes, you! Either you obey, or we shall separate."
+
+Bertuccio hurried away and soon returned with some water. He trembled
+with rage, as he washed Benedetto's wound, but he did not dare to say a
+word.
+
+Haydee had in the meantime loosened a cord from the package and
+discovered a small oaken box, which she tried in vain to open. The count
+noticed it, and after he had carefully examined the lock, he murmured:
+
+"I will try to open it with my key."
+
+He really succeeded in doing it. The cover flew open, and the count
+could not repress a cry of surprise when he saw the pile of gold and
+bank-notes.
+
+"Count," said Bertuccio, approaching, "he is opening his eyes."
+
+"Did he recognize you?"
+
+"Oh, no, he is still confused."
+
+"So much the better. Keep yourself at a distance. He will recover."
+
+"What is this?" exclaimed Bertuccio, catching a glimpse of the contents
+of the box. "It must be the spoils of some new robbery."
+
+"Undoubtedly," said the count; "but, stay, there is a letter under these
+bank-notes which might clear up the mystery."
+
+"My son," ran the letter, "I will send this letter to you on the eve of
+my departure from France. You have forgiven me. To-morrow I shall see
+you for the last time. May God be with you and place you under his
+protection. Your mother, H. D."
+
+Monte-Cristo shuddered.
+
+"Hermine Danglars," he muttered to himself. "Poor, poor woman!"
+
+Shoving Bertuccio aside, he bent over Benedetto, and said, in a voice
+which penetrated the deepest depths of the soul:
+
+"Benedetto, hear me!"
+
+A shiver ran through the wretch, but the dark eyes remained closed.
+
+"Benedetto," continued Monte-Cristo, sternly, "you have killed your
+mother. Shame upon you, parricide."
+
+This time Benedetto opened his eyes in terror, and in a faint voice
+murmured:
+
+"My mother! Yes, yes. Mercy!"
+
+Monte-Cristo rose. His gaze met that of Bertuccio, in which he read a
+silent question.
+
+"Are you still going to be charitable?" asked Bertuccio's eye. "The
+wretch has murdered the mother who bore him? Does he deserve mercy?"
+
+Just then a merry sailor-song was heard. The bark of the Ice Bird
+appeared on the beach to fetch the passengers.
+
+"Jacopo," exclaimed Monte-Cristo aloud, "listen!"
+
+Jacopo stood up in the bark, and looked closely at the count, who called
+out some words in Maltese dialect to him.
+
+Immediately a sailor jumped from the bark into the sea and swam toward
+the Ice Bird, while Jacopo with the two other sailors jumped on land.
+
+"Bring some provisions from the grotto," ordered the count.
+
+Jacopo and Ali did as they were told, and while the sailors carried the
+provisions to the bark, the count whispered a few words to the Nubian.
+Ali approached the wounded man, and, taking him in his strong arms, he
+carried him to the bark and placed him on the floor of the same. The
+count then took the box and threw it near Benedetto; he then took
+Haydee's arm in his own and went back with her, while Ali plunged into
+the water up to his waist and laid hold of the bark.
+
+"Benedetto," cried the count aloud, "you have blasphemed God. You have
+trodden under foot all human and divine laws. Men cannot punish you; may
+God weigh guilt and punishment with each other! Ali, do your duty."
+
+Ali, with a powerful movement, pushed the bark from the shore. The tide
+seized the light vessel, and in a short while it disappeared from the
+horizon.
+
+"Oh, count," stammered Bertuccio, beside himself, "you have given him
+his life."
+
+"If Almighty God wishes him to be saved, let it be so. He has the right
+to punish and forgive," replied the count, solemnly.
+
+The yacht was now approaching the shore, in obedience to the command the
+sailor had brought, and, with Haydee and the seaman, the count got on
+board, and solemnly said:
+
+"Bertuccio and Ali, do your duty!"
+
+Haydee looked wonderingly at her husband; he took her head in his hands
+and earnestly said:
+
+"My darling, I bury the past at this hour--the grottoes of Monte-Cristo
+are no more."
+
+A column of fire rose from the island--a loud report was heard, and the
+treasure chamber of the Cardinal Spada was annihilated.
+
+Ali and Bertuccio hurried to the yacht, and the Ice Bird flew with all
+sails toward the open sea.
+
+"Oh, darling," whispered Haydee, blushing deeply, "you have been
+merciful, and I thank you doubly for it. What you do for your fellow-men
+God will return to your child. Yes, I speak the truth. God has given me
+the great happiness to become a mother. Kiss me, my beloved."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+WITH THE PANDURS
+
+
+In the forties, Signora Aurora Vertelli was the owner of a place near
+the Scala, at Milan, called the Casino. The Casino was the meeting-place
+of the Austrian officers, for at that time the old Lombardian city was
+garrisoned by Austrians, under the special command of Marshal Radetzky.
+
+Count Joseph Wenzel Radetzky is a celebrated historical personage, and
+the words of a contemporary: "Radetzky is a great hunter before the
+Lord; he drives the people before him like the hunter game," describe
+him sufficiently. If Radetzky was a tyrant, his officers were a torture
+to Italy, and it often happened that the Bohemian and Croatian officers
+whipped women and children on the open streets, or else ran a dagger
+through the body of some peaceful citizen.
+
+Aurora Vertelli, however, enjoyed the protection of the Austrian police!
+What the services were that she rendered the State is not known; but,
+nevertheless, the "handsome Aurora," as she was called, was in great
+favor at police headquarters. The eating at the Casino was celebrated,
+the wines were second to none, and dice and cards were provided for the
+"spiritual" amusement of the guests.
+
+An Italian was seldom seen in the Casino, and those that came were
+generally those who had taken to the Austrian army.
+
+On the night of the 15th to the 16th of March, 1848, lively scenes were
+being enacted in the Casino, and neither Aurora Vertelli herself nor old
+Major Bartolomeo Batto, who was one of the regular customers at the
+place, could restrain the excited guests.
+
+"What is going on at Vienna, Lieutenant Pasky?" asked a young officer.
+"Have the riots there any importance?"
+
+"No, thank God," replied the lieutenant; "the _canaille_ will soon be
+brought to their senses."
+
+"H'm, if the emperor would only be strict," said another.
+
+"Ah, bah! the mob has no importance."
+
+"And the cannons generally prove it."
+
+"Comrades," said an elderly officer, approaching the group, "I think the
+affair is serious."
+
+"How so? What has happened?"
+
+"Well, the emperor has made concessions."
+
+"But that would be a shame."
+
+"They want to repeal the censorship--"
+
+"That's good. The newspapers could then print what they pleased."
+
+"The new press-bill is said to be very liberal."
+
+"A bullet and a rope are the best laws."
+
+"Besides that, the delegates of the German kingdom and the
+Lombardian-Venetian kingdom are going to be called in--"
+
+A storm of anger rose, and a rough Austrian nobleman, Hermann von
+Kirchstein, passionately exclaimed:
+
+"Comrades, the emperor can do what he wishes, but we shall do what we
+wish, and if the Italians make a move we shall crush them."
+
+As if to add strength to his words, Herr von Kirchstein crushed the
+wineglass he held in his hand, amid the applause of his comrades.
+
+"Bravo!" they cried.
+
+Count Hermann looked proudly about and said:
+
+"Only as late as yesterday I had an opportunity to show the Milanese who
+is master here."
+
+"Tell us, comrade; tell us all about it," came from all sides.
+
+"Well, last evening, about six o'clock, I was going across the Piazza
+Fontana, when two confounded Italians--a lady about forty years of age,
+dressed in deep mourning, and a young sixteen-year-old boy--approached
+me. They took one side of the pavement and did not stir to let me pass.
+I was walking along smoking a cigar, and did not look up; the lady did
+not move, and you can understand--"
+
+The count made a gesture signifying that the lady had lost her balance,
+and, amid the coarse laughter of his comrades, he continued:
+
+"I went ahead, but the young booby ran after me, cursed me, and tore my
+cigar out of my mouth. I drew my sword, but the woman clutched my arm
+and cried: 'You killed the father on the 3d of January, on the Corsa dei
+Servi--spare the son.'
+
+"With my sword," continued Count Hermann, "I struck the woman over the
+hands until she let go of my arm, and then I broke the young fellow's
+skull. The people crowded around, and the police arrived, to whom I told
+the affair."
+
+"Did the dastardly wretch lie dead on the ground?" asked a young
+officer.
+
+"No, the police took him away; but after the explanations I gave, I
+think he must be tried at once; in urgent cases a criminal can be hanged
+inside of twenty-four hours."
+
+"Antonio Balbini was strangled this morning, and nailed to the wall of
+the prison," said a deep voice, suddenly.
+
+Every one turned toward the speaker, who continued in a calm voice:
+
+"As I tell you, Count Hermann--nailed to the wall. Ah, we have splendid
+methods here to humiliate the mob. About eight days ago two traitors
+were fried in hot oil, and if they are to be buried alive _a la
+proviguere_--"
+
+"What is that?" asked a captain, sipping sorbet.
+
+"What? You don't know what that is?" said the first speaker, in hard
+metallic tones. "One would think you had just come from another world."
+
+The speaker was an Italian, about thirty years of age, of extraordinary
+beauty. Deep black, sparkling eyes lighted up the finely-chiselled
+features, and perfect white teeth looked from under the fresh rosy lips
+and raven black mustache.
+
+The Marquis Aslitta was since two months in Milan, and, as was said, had
+formerly lived at Naples. He carefully refrained from meeting his
+countrymen, and appeared to be a faithful servant of foreign tyrants.
+
+While he spoke the officers appeared to feel uncomfortable, and if they
+laughed, it sounded forced and unnatural.
+
+"To come back to the _proviguere_," said Aslitta, laughing loudly. "The
+prisoners are chained, their legs are broken, and they are hurled head
+foremost into a pit about four feet deep. Then the pit is filled with
+dirt, leaving the legs exposed up to the knees. It recalls little trees
+and looks comical."
+
+Aslitta laughed again; but, singular thing, the laugh sounded like
+long-drawn sobs.
+
+Count Hermann felt his hair stand on end.
+
+"Let us play cards," he proposed; but before his comrades could say
+anything, a thunderous noise came from the direction of the Scala,
+mingled with loud cries.
+
+"Long live La Luciola! Long live Italy!"
+
+The officers hurried out. As soon as the hall was cleared, Aslitta
+strode toward Major Bartolomeo, and whispered in his ear:
+
+"To-night in the little house on the Porta Tessina."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+THE QUEEN OF FLOWERS
+
+
+The Italians have always been born musicians, and in Milan, too, there
+are plenty of artists. Among the latter, Maestro Ticellini occupied the
+first place. He had a great deal of talent, wrote charming cavatinas,
+and his songs were much sought after. He had not composed an opera as
+yet; and what was the cause of this? Simply because he could find no
+fitting libretto; the strict censorship always had something to say, and
+the most innocent verses were looked upon as an insult to his majesty,
+the emperor.
+
+Since a few weeks Ticellini was in a state of great excitement. Salvani,
+the impresario of the Scala and a friend of Ticellini, had engaged La
+Luciola, the star of the opera at Naples, for Milan, and the maestro had
+not been able to find a libretto.
+
+Dozens of text books had been sent back by the censor; the subjects out
+of the old and new history were looked down upon, because in all of them
+allusions were made to tyrants and oppressed people, and while La
+Luciola achieved triumphs each evening in the operas of Bellini and
+Donizetti, Ticellini grew desperate.
+
+One night as he returned to his home in the Via de Monte an unexpected
+surprise awaited him. His faithful servant stood in front of the door
+and triumphantly waved a roll of paper before his eyes. Ticellini
+indifferently unrolled the package, but suddenly he broke into a cry of
+joy. He held a libretto in his trembling hands.
+
+Shutting himself in his room, Ticellini flew over the manuscript. He did
+not notice that the binding which held the libretto was tricolored. And
+yet they were the Italian colors, white, green and red, the tricolor
+which was looked down upon.
+
+The title already pleased the maestro. It was "The Queen of Flowers."
+The verses were very lucid and melodious, and the subject agreeable. The
+queen of flowers was the rose, which loved a pink, whereas the pink was
+enamored of a daisy. After many entanglings the allegory closed with the
+union of the pink and the daisy, and the rose generously blessed the
+bond. All was joy and happiness, and as soon as Ticellini had finished
+reading, he began to compose.
+
+The part of the daisy was made for the high soprano of La Luciola, the
+pink must be sung by Signor Tino, the celebrated baritone, and Signora
+Ronita, the famous contralto, would secure triumphs as the rose. The
+subordinate characters were soon filled, and the next morning, when
+Ticellini breathlessly hurried to Salvani, he was in a position to lay
+the outline of the opera before him.
+
+Salvani, of course, was at first distrustful, but after he assured
+himself that there was nothing treasonable in it, he put the manuscript
+in his pocket and went to see the censor.
+
+The censor received Salvani cordially, and taking his ominous red
+pencil in his hand, he glanced over the libretto. But no matter how much
+he sought, he could not find a single libellous sentence, and at the end
+of an hour Salvani was able to bring his friend the news that the
+performance of the opera was allowed.
+
+Ticellini was overjoyed; he worked night and day, and at the end of a
+week he appeared before Salvani, waving the completed score triumphantly
+in the air.
+
+While the two friends were sitting at the piano, and Ticellini marked
+several songs and duets, a knock was heard.
+
+"No one can enter," said Salvani, springing up; "we wish to be alone."
+
+"Oh, how polite!" exclaimed a clear, bright voice, and as Salvani and
+Ticellini looked up in surprise they uttered a cry of astonishment:
+
+"Luciola!"
+
+La Luciola was very beautiful. She was slim and tall, about twenty-seven
+years of age, with beautiful black hair and finely-formed features. Her
+almond-shaped eyes were likewise dark, but had a phosphorescent gleam,
+which gave her the name of Luciola, or the fire-fly. She was dressed in
+a red satin dress, and wore a jaunty black felt hat. There was quite a
+romantic legend connected with the pretty girl: no one knew from what
+country she came, since she spoke all the European tongues with equal
+facility, and steadfastly refused to say a word about the land of her
+birth. She possessed the elegance of a Parisian, the grace of a Creole,
+and the vivacity of an Italian. Her real name was unknown. She was
+called the heroine of several romantic adventures, though no one could
+say which one of her numerous admirers she preferred. La Luciola
+appeared to have no heart.
+
+Very often La Luciola, dressed in men's clothes, would cross the
+Neapolitan plains, accompanied by her only friend, a tender, tall
+blonde. The latter was just as modest as La Luciola was audacious, and
+she clung to the proud Amazon like the ivy to the oak.
+
+A few days before her departure from Naples, a Croatian officer had
+insulted her, and instead of asking a gentleman of her acquaintance to
+revenge the coarse remark, she herself sought the ruffian, dressed in
+men's clothes, and boxed his ears as he sat in a cafe. Amid the laughter
+of his comrades the officer left the cafe, and La Luciola triumphed.
+
+Such was the person upon whom the fate of the new opera depended, for
+she reigned supreme at the Scala, and Salvani as well as Ticellini knew
+this.
+
+While they were both meditating how to secure the Luciola in the easiest
+way, the songstress said:
+
+"My visit seems to be unwelcome to the gentlemen?"
+
+"Unwelcome?" repeated Salvani. "Signora, what are you thinking of? On
+the contrary, we were just speaking about you and wishing you were
+here."
+
+"Flatterer," said La Luciola, laughing, and pointing her finger
+warningly at him.
+
+"No, signora, Salvani says the truth," Ticellini said, earnestly. "We
+wish to ask a great favor of you."
+
+"That is excellent. I also come to ask for a favor," replied the diva,
+springing up hurriedly. "You speak first, and then you shall hear what
+brought me to your office."
+
+"Oh, signora," said Ticellini, crossing his hands and falling on one
+knee, "my fate lies in your hands."
+
+"That sounds quite tragical! One would imagine I was Marshal Radetzky.
+But are you ever going to tell me what is the matter?"
+
+"We--I--" began Salvani, stammering.
+
+"My dear impresario," interrupted La Luciola, laughing, "let us make
+short work of it. I will tell you why I came, and, in the meantime, you
+can collect your thoughts. Well, then, I am growing tired at La Scala;
+Donizetti, Bellini, and whatever other names your great composers bear,
+are very good fellows, but, you know, _toujours perdrix_."
+
+"Well--and--" asked Salvani, breathlessly, as the diva paused.
+
+"Well, I must have a new _role_ in a new opera or I shall run away,"
+said La Luciola, firmly.
+
+Both men uttered a cry of joy. Luciola looked from one to the other and
+finally said:
+
+"Does my demand embarrass you?"
+
+"No, luck alone makes us dumb. We intended, signora, to ask you to-day
+to take a part in a new opera."
+
+"Is it possible?" exclaimed La Luciola, clapping her hands with joy.
+"Who is the composer of the new opera? Gioberto, Palmerelli, or perhaps
+you, Ticellini? But stay! before we go any further, I make one
+condition: the subject must not be tragical."
+
+"Oh, tragic opera has long since gone out of fashion."
+
+"Thank God, you have the same opinion as I. What I should like now would
+be a spectacular piece, an allegory or something like it--pretty music
+and bright verses."
+
+"Oh, signora!" exclaimed Ticellini, joyfully, "I have got what you
+want. The new opera is called the 'Queen of Flowers.'"
+
+"What a pretty title!"
+
+"Your part will be that of the daisy."
+
+"Beautiful, beautiful!"
+
+"Permit me to play you the first cavatina."
+
+Ticellini hurried to the piano and began to play.
+
+Luciola listened attentively and nodded satisfaction as Ticellini sung
+the verses.
+
+"That will do," she said. "Get everything ready for the rehearsals; I
+shall sing the part."
+
+She went out, and the next day the rehearsals began for the new opera,
+the first performance of which was to take place on the 15th of May,
+1848.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+GREEN, WHITE AND RED
+
+
+The night of the 15th of May arrived, and both Salvani and Ticellini
+were very nervous about the first performance of the "Queen of Flowers."
+La Luciola was certainly the pet of the public, but the situation at
+Milan was such that it was a question whether the performance at the
+Scala would receive any attention. Even the day before, there had been
+very little call for tickets, and Salvani, who had spared no expense to
+mount the new opera properly, had awful dreams on the night of the 14th
+about deficits and bankruptcy.
+
+At length, on the morning of the 15th, the demand became heavier, and
+after a few boxes had been taken, a negro appeared at the box-office
+about eleven o'clock, and pointed at a pack of tickets.
+
+"Ah--your master desires a box?" asked Salvani, who did not disdain on
+special days to take charge of the box-office.
+
+The negro laughed, so that the impresario could wonder at his white
+teeth, and shook his head, pointing once more at the tickets.
+
+"You want two boxes, perhaps?"
+
+Again the negro shook his head.
+
+"Three boxes?"
+
+"No."
+
+"My God, are you dumb?"
+
+An expressive look from the Nubian confirmed the insinuation. He put a
+roll of bank-notes on the package, and made a motion as if he wished to
+put the latter in his pocket.
+
+"Do you want to buy the whole package?" asked Salvani, breathlessly.
+
+"Yes," nodded the negro.
+
+The impresario looked doubtingly at him, and said:
+
+"But that is eleven boxes on the first tier, each of which costs fifty
+lire--"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Twenty-two boxes on the third tier, at thirty-six lire; and all the
+boxes on the fourth tier, thirty boxes at twenty-five lire."
+
+Again the Nubian nodded. Salvani began to reckon, and excitedly
+exclaimed:
+
+"But that is impossible. Are you aware that this is a matter of 2,848
+lire?"
+
+Without hesitating, the negro laid the sum of 3,000 lire in bank-notes
+on the window and put the tickets in his pocket. Thereupon he drew his
+arm under that of the impresario and pointed to the stage.
+
+"I do not understand," stammered Salvani. "You want to go on the stage?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then follow me."
+
+Salvani walked down a small stairway and soon stood, with the negro, on
+the dimly lighted stage. The Nubian walked in front of the prompter's
+box and pointed so expressively toward the parterre and the parquet,
+that the impresario at once knew what he wanted.
+
+"You want to buy the rest of the seats unsold?" he hastily asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The places cost originally five, four and three lire."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I would be a fool if I did not take a hand in."
+
+Before the Nubian had departed, he had purchased all of the seats still
+to be had, for the round sum of 6,000 lire, and with head proudly erect
+he strode through the streets.
+
+When Ticellini appeared, Salvani triumphantly pointed to the pile of
+bank-notes, and when the maestro anxiously remarked that he thought it
+must be a trick of one of his rivals to ruin him, the impresario coolly
+said:
+
+"Ticellini, would you be able to raise 6,000 lire to annihilate Gioberto
+and Palmerelli?"
+
+The composer was silent. This kind of logic convinced him.
+
+When the eventful evening came, the Scala looked magnificent.
+
+For the first time since the Austrian occupation, all the aristocratic
+ladies appeared in full dress. Salvani, as well as the maestro, looked
+wonderingly at the audience. Very soon, however, their wonder changed to
+curiosity, for the toilets of the ladies were arranged in a peculiar
+way. Some were dressed entirely in green satin, with green leaves in
+their hair; others wore red satin, with red roses, and others again
+white satin and white flowers; and then the ladies were grouped
+together in such a way that the tricolor green, white and red always
+appeared. Ticellini was a patriot from head to foot, and his heart beat
+loudly when he saw the Italian tricolor.
+
+What could it all mean? A revolution? That would destroy all chances of
+the success of his opera, but Ticellini did not think of himself, when
+the fatherland was in question, and he enthusiastically hummed the first
+lines of the national hymn:
+
+
+                    _"Chi per la patria muore_
+                        _Vessuto ha assai!"_
+
+        (He who has died for his country has lived long enough.)
+
+
+The parquet and balcony were filled with students, and only one
+proscenium box was still empty.
+
+A murmur ran through the theatre; the door of the proscenium box was
+opened and three persons entered it.
+
+A tall, majestic man, whose dark locks inclosed a pale face, led a lady
+of extraordinary beauty. He was dressed in a frock suit, the lady in
+purple silk, with a white sash. A diadem of sparkling emeralds
+ornamented the finely shaped head, and on her neck and arms diamonds of
+the purest water shone.
+
+A remarkably handsome child, a boy about eight or nine years, took a
+seat between the lady and gentleman, and it only needed a casual look
+upon the features of the youth to recognize him as the son of the pair.
+The box just opposite to them was Radetzky's, and was occupied by his
+adjutant. Observant of everything which looked like a manifestation or a
+demonstration, they threw threatening glances at the color
+constellation, and the confidant of Radetzky immediately sent for
+Salvani.
+
+The impresario appeared, excited and trembling. Suppose the adjutant
+should forbid the performance?
+
+"What does this mean?" the officer angrily exclaimed. "Have you noticed
+the three colors?"
+
+"Your Excellency, I--"
+
+"Well, are you going to answer me?"
+
+"Will your excellency condescend to take a look over the house--"
+
+At the same moment, as Salvani had entered the box, the gentleman in the
+opposite box had arisen and placed a light blue band over the lady's
+shoulders. Simultaneously all the other ladies in the house threw sashes
+over their shoulders; yellow, blue, black, and brown were the colors
+which met the astonished gaze of the adjutant, and he grumblingly said:
+
+"Wait, _canaille_, I will not be deceived."
+
+Salvani had hurriedly left. The first notes of the overture ran through
+the house, and loud applause was heard. This time, too, the gentleman in
+the proscenium box gave the signal for the applause, but no one appeared
+to notice it.
+
+Ticellini hurried to La Luciola's dressing-room. The diva was already
+dressed for her part, and looked so transcendently beautiful that the
+maestro held his breath.
+
+"Well, maestro," said the diva, laughing, "do I please you, and do you
+think the opera will be a success?"
+
+"Oh, signora, I have never doubted it, since you consented to take the
+part of Marguerite."
+
+A dark form came from the rear of the dressing-room, and the Marquis
+Aslitta went toward Ticellini.
+
+"Let me congratulate you, maestro," he cordially said, offering
+Ticellini his hand.
+
+Ticellini hesitated before he took it. Aslitta was looked upon in Milan
+as a renegade, and therefore Ticellini was very glad when he was called
+away. Bidding good-by to the diva, he hurried back to the stage, and
+Aslitta remained alone with Luciola.
+
+"Giorgio," whispered Luciola, giving the marquis her hand, "the eventful
+hour has arrived."
+
+"Thanks, my darling," murmured the young man; "you are staking your
+existence to save my country--a whole life would not suffice to reward
+you."
+
+Luciola threw herself into the outstretched arms of Aslitta.
+
+"You love me, Giorgio?"
+
+"Dearly; you are my goddess, my all."
+
+"Oh, Giorgio; nothing shall be too difficult for me to do for you. But
+go now, the time has come."
+
+"And you have forgotten nothing, and will observe the sign?"
+
+"Be easy, I will think of everything."
+
+"Then farewell; have courage."
+
+"And hope," added Luciola, kissing Aslitta.
+
+At this moment a heavy hand was laid upon Aslitta's shoulder, and a
+clear voice said:
+
+"Marquis, you should have closed the door."
+
+Aslitta turned hurriedly about. A man stood in front of him, whose
+appearance was very repulsive.
+
+Count San Pietro had short, red-brown hair, and one of his eyes was
+always closed; a deep blue scar, reaching from the eye to the left ear,
+disfigured his otherwise handsome face in a horrible manner. A
+diabolical smile played upon his lips, and Aslitta grew pale as he
+recognized the count.
+
+La Luciola, measuring the count with a stern look, said:
+
+"Count, by what right have you come here?"
+
+A malicious smile was the answer, and then San Pietro audaciously said:
+
+"Who will prevent me from coming in?"
+
+"I!" exclaimed Luciola, passionately. "Depart at once."
+
+"Ah, you are defending the marquis."
+
+Aslitta was moved to become angry, but he restrained himself, and
+laughingly said:
+
+"Why should not others have the right to admire La Luciola?"
+
+The diva trembled, but a look from Aslitta gave her courage, and, trying
+to appear cool, she said:
+
+"Really, count, you frightened me; I hardly recognized you."
+
+"And the marquis has no need to hide; he can leave that to the
+conspirators," remarked the count, with a piercing look.
+
+Aslitta met the gaze fearlessly, and indifferently answered, evading the
+question:
+
+"Count, have you a box for to-night's performance?"
+
+"No, every place was taken when my servant went to the box-office."
+
+"Then do me the honor to take a seat in my box."
+
+"Ah, you were more fortunate than I."
+
+The manager opened the door leading to the stage-row, and exclaimed:
+
+"Signora, your scene begins."
+
+"I am coming," said Luciola, and, passing by the gentlemen, she
+laughingly said:
+
+"Good-by, and do not forget to applaud."
+
+As soon as she had gone, the gentlemen went toward the auditorium, and
+on the stairs leading to the boxes Pietro paused and hissed:
+
+"Marquis, you know I shall kill you the first chance I have."
+
+"Really?" asked Aslitta; "have you become so bloodthirsty all of a
+sudden?"
+
+"No evasions," replied the count. "You love Luciola?"
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"And Luciola loves you?"
+
+"I am not vain enough to imagine your statement to be true."
+
+"Beware, marquis," said the count; "I have eyes."
+
+"So much the better for you."
+
+"And in the dungeons of Milan there are cells, in which patriots are
+broken on the wheel and forced to name their accomplices--"
+
+"Count," interrupted Aslitta, "there are also dark places in Milan,
+where Italians who betray their country to the oppressor are shot."
+
+Stepping into his box, Aslitta closed the door in the count's face, and
+San Pietro was forced to go to the marshal's box.
+
+As San Pietro took his place, La Luciola just appeared on the scene;
+deafening applause greeted her, and she gratefully bowed.
+
+"Colonel," said San Pietro, turning to the adjutant, "I have to give you
+the name of a traitor."
+
+"But not now," said the colonel, impatiently; "just listen to that
+beautiful duet."
+
+The duet between the rose and the daisy was magnificently sung. No one
+noticed, however, that Luciola threw a look at the gentleman in the
+proscenium box, directing his attention to that occupied by Radetzky's
+adjutant. The unknown arose, and cast his sparkling eyes at San Pietro.
+He then looked down at the stage again, and La Luciola laughed with
+satisfaction. The duet finished amid applause.
+
+"Colonel," repeated the count again, "Aslitta conspires with the
+patriots, and--"
+
+"To-morrow--to-morrow, count."
+
+"To-morrow would be too late."
+
+"Then, in the devil's name, speak now and be done with it. What do you
+wish?"
+
+"That Aslitta be arrested this evening."
+
+"Ah, La Luciola is divine; we must secure her for Vienna!" exclaimed the
+colonel, enthusiastically. "Will you arrange it?"
+
+"What, your excellency?"
+
+"Are you deaf? We must secure Luciola for Vienna."
+
+"Have Aslitta arrested, and La Luciola will be a member of the Vienna
+Opera."
+
+"Stupid, what interest has La Luciola in Aslitta?"
+
+"She loves him," hissed the count.
+
+"What! La Luciola disdains our advances, and falls in love with this
+Neapolitan! That is treason."
+
+"Then your excellency--"
+
+"I give you _carte blanche_; bring Aslitta to the citadel, but not
+before the close of the performance; I wish to hear the opera to the
+end."
+
+The adjutant tore a piece of paper from a note-book, wrote a few lines
+upon it and gave it to San Pietro. The count gave a diabolical laugh.
+His course was easy now.
+
+As much as San Pietro had tried, he could not remember whom La Luciola
+looked like. Thanks to his wound, a blank had occurred in his memory,
+and certain episodes of his former life were covered with a heavy veil.
+As he now threw a glance at the opposite box, a part of this veil was
+torn asunder, and like a dazed person he looked at the gentleman dressed
+in black. The latter transfixed him likewise. Instinctively the count
+coughed and hid his face in his handkerchief. He could not meet the gaze
+of those coal-black eyes.
+
+"No, no," he muttered, anxiously. "No one knows my former name; I would
+be a fool to get frightened."
+
+As soon as the first act was over, San Pietro turned to an officer and
+said:
+
+"Do you know the gentleman sitting in the opposite box?"
+
+"Not personally, but from reputation. He is said to be enormously rich."
+
+"What is his name?"
+
+"The Count of Monte-Cristo; his wife, who is sitting next to him, is
+wonderfully handsome; they say she is a Greek. The pretty boy is their
+son."
+
+"Thanks," said San Pietro; and then he muttered to himself: "'Tis he;
+he has a son! This time he will not escape me."
+
+"Do you know the count's political opinions?" said San Pietro, after a
+pause.
+
+"I only know that immediately after the gentleman's arrival from Naples
+he sent his negro with his card to Radetzky, asking the marshal to allow
+him to pay his respects to him."
+
+"That is decisive."
+
+The opera had in the meantime been proceeded with; when the third act
+began a messenger appeared with an order which called the adjutant to
+the marshal's house. What could the officers do? The service went before
+everything else, and they disappeared just as La Luciola, Ruinta, and
+Signor Tino were singing a beautiful trio.
+
+At length the last scene came; the rose, the proud queen of flowers,
+assented to the marriage of the pink and the daisy, and a bower of green
+vines was raised before an altar constructed of evergreens.
+
+Red, white and green! The national colors!
+
+At this moment Monte-Cristo arose and gave the signal. Immediately every
+one rose and clapped their hands, and he joyously exclaimed:
+
+"Long live Italy! Long live the national flag!"
+
+And then a loud voice thundered above the tumult:
+
+"_Fuori i barbari!_ Away with the foreigners!"
+
+The next minute the students climbed on to the stage and divided the
+palms. A roar of a thousand voices was heard singing the national hymn:
+
+
+                    _"Chi per la patria muore_
+                        _Vessuto ha assai!"_
+
+
+La Luciola was carried in triumph to her coach by the students; the
+enthusiastic young men took the horses out of the traces and bore the
+carriage along themselves, shouting through the night air:
+
+"Long live La Luciola! Long live Italy!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A FIGHT IN THE STREETS
+
+
+When the Major von Kirchstein and his comrades, attracted by the noise,
+rushed out into the street, they saw La Luciola's carriage covered with
+flags bearing the national colors; the diva and her friend were seated
+therein, and La Luciola enthusiastically cried:
+
+"Oh, Milla, Milla, this is great and sublime!"
+
+"Comrades!" shouted the major in a rage, "follow me. We will capture La
+Luciola, and bring her to the citadel!"
+
+Loud applause greeted the major's words, but before he had reached the
+coach a hand grasped him by the throat, and a hoarse voice cried in his
+ear:
+
+"If you touch a hair of La Luciola's head, you are a dead man."
+
+It was Aslitta. Our readers have already guessed that the marquis was
+playing the part of a Brutus, and La Luciola, who loved him dearly,
+supported him in his plans. The two fiery natures had become acquainted
+at Naples. Luciola's friend, the gentle Milla, had written the
+mysterious libretto and Aslitta had sent it to Ticellini. Edmond Dantes
+had kept the oath he made upon Monte-Cristo, to be the warm friend of
+the oppressed. He was an admirer of Aslitta, and placed himself at his
+service and the cause he represented.
+
+Up till now he had never met La Luciola, but when the diva saw at the
+Scala that evening the man whom her lover had talked to her about, she
+was seized with a deep emotion. Yes, she recognized and knew the man who
+took up the cause of Italy's misery, and had confidence in his ability
+to carry out whatever project he undertook.
+
+As the major uttered the threat against La Luciola, Aslitta recognized
+the danger his love was in. He had already grasped the coach door with
+his hand, when he felt himself seized by strong arms and borne to the
+ground. A well-known voice hissed in his ear--the voice of San Pietro:
+
+"We have got you."
+
+A gag was inserted between Aslitta's lips, his arms and limbs were
+bound, and two pandours dragged him away, while the count said:
+
+"You know the order; take good care of him! You must answer for the
+prisoner with your life."
+
+One of the pandours pressed the muzzle of his gun against Aslitta's
+forehead and threateningly said:
+
+"Do not stir or I will blow your brains out."
+
+Aslitta was obliged to obey. The carriage in which he had been placed
+stopped, the marquis was lifted out, and the doors of a subterranean
+dungeon closed behind him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+THE MASKS FALL
+
+
+When the hated Austrian uniforms appeared in the brilliantly lighted
+streets, a threatening noise was uttered by the mob, and the students
+who surrounded Luciola's carriage threw themselves upon the officers.
+
+It was a foolish beginning, for they had no weapons--they only possessed
+burning patriotism, and their hatred of the foreign oppressor.
+
+A shot now fell, and at the same time the tall form of Count San Pietro
+loomed up, giving commands to the soldiers to make the attack--an attack
+against a defenceless crowd of human beings. As soon as the students
+heard the shot, they surrounded the carriage of the diva again. The
+latter tried to encourage the trembling Milla. As for herself, she had
+no fear, and though she could not understand Aslitta's absence, she was
+far from imagining the truth.
+
+Suddenly San Pietro's repulsive features appeared at the carriage
+window, and Luciola's heart ceased beating.
+
+Had he betrayed Aslitta?
+
+The count had arranged things well. Narrower and narrower grew the
+circle about the patriots, and the students tried in vain to draw the
+carriage away from the soldiers.
+
+"Luciola," said the count, maliciously, "do you still think you can
+escape me?"
+
+Luciola drew herself up, and casting a look of contempt at the count,
+she cried, in loud, clear tones:
+
+"Miserable coward!"
+
+San Pietro uttered a cry of rage, and lifted his sword aloof.
+
+Luciola looked coolly at him; not a muscle of her fine face quivered,
+but her hand grasped the jewelled hilt of a dagger.
+
+She did not intend to fall into the villain's hands alive.
+
+Suddenly, above the roar of the multitude, a voice thundered:
+
+"Benedetto! Murderer! Escaped galley slave--beware! God cannot be mocked
+at! Shame over you!"
+
+And as these words were heard, Count San Pietro, the favorite of
+Radetzky, tremblingly looked in the direction from whence the words
+came, and which sounded to him like the call of the judgment day. On the
+pedestal of a marble statue opposite to him stood the man he had
+recognized at the Scala, who pointed threateningly at him, and
+Benedetto, wild with rage, pulled a pistol from his pocket and fired at
+Monte-Cristo. When the smoke cleared away, Monte-Cristo still stood
+there; at the same time the crowd separated in the centre, and two
+harnessed horses were shoved in front of Luciola's carriage. How it
+happened no one knew--in an instant the traces were fastened to the
+shafts, the negro who sat on the box whipped up the horses, and in a
+second the carriage rolled away.
+
+The shots fired after them did not reach them, and in a few minutes they
+had disappeared.
+
+"Death and thunder," hissed Benedetto, "this one at least shall not
+escape me"; and foaming with rage, he threw himself upon the count.
+
+The latter let him come. Benedetto put the muzzle of his pistol to the
+count's breast, but at the same moment the iron arm of the latter had
+clutched the scoundrel by the throat, and with a hoarse laugh Benedetto
+let his weapon fall and sank upon his knees. Quick as thought the count
+seized the weapon, and placing it against Benedetto's forehead, said in
+a loud, clear voice:
+
+"All you people who are with this villain whom you call Count San Pietro
+ought, at least, to know whom your ally is. Listen attentively,
+gentlemen. The man to whom you bend the knee is an escaped galley
+slave--he murdered his mother!"
+
+A cry of horror came from the lips of the crowd, and the Croatians,
+whose roughness was proverbial, turned with horror from the scoundrel.
+
+Monte-Cristo threw the pistol on the ground, and, getting down from the
+pedestal, he walked slowly through the lines of the retreating soldiers.
+
+As soon as Benedetto felt himself free he sprang up, and, turning to the
+crowd, he hissed:
+
+"Do not believe him, he lied; he is an enemy of Austria! How will you be
+able to look Marshal Radetzky in the face, if you allow him to escape?"
+
+The name of Radetzky acted like magic upon the soldiers. They turned
+pale and rushed in pursuit of Monte-Cristo.
+
+They had caught up to the count, when he suddenly vanished from their
+gaze. To the bystanders it seemed as if a wall had opened to give him
+protection.
+
+But soon the riddle was solved. The wall through which the Count of
+Monte-Cristo had escaped belonged to the Vertelli house, and all the
+officers knew that the building contained several secret passages.
+
+"Follow me," said Benedetto, angrily, entering the Casino.
+
+On the threshold Major Bartolomeo met him. Benedetto grasped the old
+veteran by the throat, and shaking him like a leaf, he exclaimed:
+
+"Wretch, you have betrayed us; but you shall pay for it!"
+
+"I," stammered the major, "I--am--innocent."
+
+"Oh, no deception. I know you. How long is it since you called yourself
+Cavalcanti, and played the part of my father? Come, men, take this man
+prisoner. I will report to the marshal about it."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+LOVE OF COUNTRY
+
+
+Led by Ali's strong hands the noble steeds flew along the streets of
+Milan like the wind. La Luciola appeared now to have changed roles with
+Milla, for she wept bitterly.
+
+"Oh, Milla," groaned the diva, "Aslitta is surely dead, or else he would
+have kept his word, and if I have lost him my life will be at an end."
+
+"But, Eugenie," consoled Milla, "why fear the worst always? I--"
+
+The sudden stoppage of the coach caused Milla to pause. The negro sprang
+from the box, opened the door and motioned with his hand to the ladies
+to descend.
+
+"Come, Milla," said La Luciola, "wherever we are, we are under the
+protection of a powerful friend."
+
+They were ushered into a beautifully furnished hallway, which led to a
+room furnished with heavy velvet draperies. A man with gray hair and
+aquiline nose, our old friend Bertuccio, received the ladies with a deep
+bow.
+
+"Signora," he said, turning to Luciola, "have no fear; you are in the
+house of a friend. Follow me."
+
+La Luciola and Milla accepted the invitation and uttered a cry of
+surprise. They had entered a room decorated with the finest frescoes and
+hung with the richest silk and satin tapestries. In the centre of the
+room was a tent of blue silk under which sat a lady of extraordinary
+beauty, the same one who had attracted such attention at the Scala.
+
+"Welcome, sisters," said Haydee in a gentle voice as she came toward
+them, "I was expecting you."
+
+La Luciola and Milla bent over to kiss the white hand she extended
+toward them, but Haydee would not permit it, and pressing her lips to
+the young girl's forehead she drew them both to the divan.
+
+"You have acted courageously, sister," said Haydee, turning to Luciola,
+"but I was not anxious about you. He told me he would watch over you."
+
+La Luciola understood whom she meant by this "he," and she timidly
+replied:
+
+"Madame, you seem to know all about the terrible affair. Would you
+permit me a question?"
+
+"Gladly. Ask without fear; I will answer you."
+
+La Luciola hesitated a moment and then firmly said:
+
+"Madame, there is a patriot in Milan who is putting his life at stake
+for the freedom of Italy. He offered his breast to the minions of
+Radetzky--"
+
+"You are speaking of the Marquis Aslitta," said Haydee, gently.
+
+"Yes, of him, and if you knew my past you would understand that it is
+the love I bear for him which keeps me alive."
+
+"Speak freely, sister," whispered the handsome Greek, "perhaps I can
+help you."
+
+"I am a Frenchwoman by birth," said the diva, timidly. "My youth was
+passed in the capital. I was courted and petted, and yet I was not
+happy. My father, occupied with his financial operations, did not bother
+himself about me. My mother was just as unhappy as I was. I would have
+become desperate if a dear friend had not clung to me," and putting her
+arm about Milla's waist, the diva continued:
+
+"We were both devoted to music. It was a substitute for happiness to me,
+and in the empire of harmony I tried to forget my barren life. A certain
+trouble happened to me; in a twinkling all the ties which bound me to
+home were broken, and I fled, with misery and desperation in my heart!
+Madame, I was then hardly twenty, but virtue, honesty and love were
+already to me empty words!"
+
+"Poor sister," murmured Haydee, "how you must have suffered."
+
+"Yes, I suffered greatly," continued Luciola, with tears in her eyes.
+"The world appeared to be a desert, and so I devoted myself to art. In
+Naples I discovered that there was something besides the applause of the
+crowd and one's own ambition! A group of young Italian noblemen had come
+to Naples to free their brothers from the tyranny of the Austrian
+oppressors. One night we heard a loud noise. Not having anything to
+lose, I had my horse harnessed and rode in the direction of the cry.
+Milla insisted upon accompanying me. When we reached the spot, a bloody
+fight was going on. We saw shining uniforms. It was at Crotona in
+Calabria. On a ledge stood a young man, swinging a sword and urging his
+comrades on against the Austrians. A shot was fired and the young man
+fell. I urged my horse on toward the spot where I had last seen him. The
+unhappy man had fallen down a precipice. With the help of my strong
+tunic, Milla and I succeeded in drawing him up. We brought him to my
+house and I cared for him tenderly. Giorgio Aslitta awoke to new life.
+His first words, as he gained sensibility, were:
+
+
+                    _"Chi per la patria muore_
+                        _Vessuto ha assai!"_
+
+
+"Ah, the battle hymn of the Italians," interrupted Haydee, her eyes
+glistening.
+
+"Yes; and when I heard these words I was saved! I believed in man again,
+and no love song ever sounded so sweet to me as that patriotic hymn."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+SHADOWS OF THE PAST
+
+
+Hardly had Luciola uttered the last words, than a deep voice said:
+
+"Eugenie Danglars, I thank you in the name of humanity! The past is
+forgiven!"
+
+The diva turned affrightedly around. The Count of Monte-Cristo stood
+before her, leading his son by the hand.
+
+"Oh, how grateful I am to you," said Luciola, sobbing. "You recognized
+me?"
+
+"I have never lost sight of you," replied Monte-Cristo, earnestly; "and
+the name you bear makes me a debtor to you."
+
+"You shame me, count--you my debtor?"
+
+"Rest satisfied with what I have told you. I am not at liberty to reveal
+the sorrowful past to you. But be assured that if I have ever caused you
+grief, it was because I am the instrument of a higher power."
+
+"You know something about my parents. I beseech you, do not hide
+anything from me," implored Luciola. "I know that my father lives,
+and--"
+
+"One moment," interrupted Monte-Cristo, giving Haydee a wink.
+
+Immediately the young woman put her hand upon the boy's shoulder and
+led him out.
+
+"I know that my father is doing Stock Exchange business in Germany,"
+continued Luciola, "but my poor mother--"
+
+"Your mother lives too," interrupted the count, sorrowfully, "though I
+do not know whether you will ever see her again."
+
+"I do not understand," stammered La Luciola.
+
+"Listen, my child, and be strong. Have you recognized the wretch who
+calls himself Count San Pietro?"
+
+"Recognized? No; he is a wretch who merits the contempt of every one."
+
+"I thought Eugenie Danglars was shrewder than that. Of course his scar
+disfigures his face so much as to make it almost unrecognizable. Who was
+it, Eugenie, who, in former years, had the audacity to ask your hand in
+marriage, and then--"
+
+"Prince Cavalcanti!" exclaimed La Luciola, horror-stricken.
+
+"Yes, if you wish to call him thus; in reality, though, he is the
+escaped galley slave and murderer, Benedetto."
+
+"But what has the wretch to do with my mother?"
+
+"Unfortunately, more than you think; to rob your mother of her treasure,
+a full million, the monster plunged a dagger in her breast--"
+
+"Oh, the miserable coward! But you told me my mother lived--"
+
+"Yes, she lives! The murderer did not strike the heart as he had
+intended, and, after months of agony, the poor woman recovered."
+
+"Thank God! But where is she? I want to go to her and throw myself at
+her feet. My love will make her forget her grief," exclaimed Luciola,
+passionately.
+
+"That is impossible just now. Your mother had intended to enter a
+convent, but chance just happened to throw her in Valentine de
+Villefort's way. You know her?"
+
+"Oh, certainly; Valentine, the only one whom I love to remember among
+all my past acquaintances."
+
+"Well, then, Valentine is now Madame Morrel. They left France and went
+to India. They needed a governess for their little daughters, and so she
+asked Madame Danglars to take the position."
+
+"Poor mother," muttered Luciola, sorrowfully. "How hard it must have
+been for her to take a dependent position."
+
+"Madame Danglars," said the count, "accepted the offer with thanks, and
+she tenderly loves Valentine and her daughters."
+
+"How long has my mother been in India?"
+
+"About three years."
+
+"And do you know where she is?"
+
+"I do not know Morrel's present address, but expect a letter from him
+soon."
+
+Just then the deep tones of a bell were heard, and Monte-Cristo arose.
+
+"My child," he solemnly said, "whatever your past has been, you have
+expiated it a thousand times, and you deserve the love of a humane and
+honest man."
+
+"Ah, you recall Aslitta to me--where is he?"
+
+Monte-Cristo sorrowfully shook his head.
+
+"Eugenie, the Marquis d'Aslitta was arrested two hours ago."
+
+"Arrested. Oh, my God! That is worse than death."
+
+"All is not lost yet."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"In the citadel."
+
+"Count, rescue him. You are superhuman. But tell me who betrayed him?"
+
+"Benedetto."
+
+Luciola uttered a cry of horror.
+
+"I will do what I can," continued the count, "to rescue him."
+
+"A thousand thanks; I believe you."
+
+The count went to the door and called:
+
+"Spero."
+
+The handsome boy immediately appeared, and looked inquiringly at his
+father.
+
+"Come with me," said the count. "You are still a child, but from this
+day forth you enter life. Courage and devotion to a just cause make the
+weak strong. Should I die before my work is done, then take my place."
+
+A pressure of a silver bell brought Ali to the count.
+
+"Are all here?" he asked.
+
+The Nubian nodded.
+
+"Ali, you know what you have to do. As soon as the slightest traitorous
+voice is heard, you give the signal."
+
+Ali again nodded; the count shoved the curtain aside and disclosed a
+secret staircase.
+
+"Spero, conduct La Luciola," he ordered, as he descended the stairs,
+followed by Spero and the diva.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+THE CONSPIRATORS
+
+
+Arriving at the foot of the stairs, Monte-Cristo entered a large hall,
+in which several hundred men were assembled. They all rose up from their
+seats, and, taking off their hats, greeted the count with loud cries of:
+
+"Long live Italy!"
+
+Monte-Cristo approached a white-haired old man, the Marquis of
+Sante-Croce, and asked him to preside over the assembly. Sante-Croce
+nodded, and began his address:
+
+"Friends and patriots," he said, "the long-wished-for day has come. Are
+you ready to defend the flag?"
+
+"So help us God! Out with the foreigners!" was shouted from all sides.
+
+"Good! Now listen to what our noble friend, the Count of Monte-Cristo,
+has to tell us!"
+
+The marquis took his seat, and the count, unrolling a paper, said in an
+earnest voice:
+
+"I can bring you a piece of news which Marshal Radetzky has just
+received; a revolution has broken out in Vienna, and at this very hour
+the viceroy is leaving Milan."
+
+A murmur of astonishment ran through the assembly.
+
+"My couriers," continued the count, "were quicker than the emperor's,
+and in consequence of that I am better informed than the officials. The
+emperor has bowed to the necessity of the situation, and made important
+concessions--"
+
+"No concessions!" said a voice; "we want freedom!"
+
+"Patience," said Monte-Cristo. "The emperor has repealed the censorship;
+the new press law is very liberal, and the representatives of the German
+and Lombard-Venetian provinces have been convoked."
+
+The astonishment was now general. Loud cries of "Impossible!
+impossible!" were heard.
+
+"And when will the convocation take place?" asked Sante-Croce.
+
+"Unfortunately not so soon--on the 3d of July," said the count,
+sorrowfully.
+
+Angry murmurs arose.
+
+"They wish to mock us," said a young man. "Radetzky's minions have
+murdered my brother; I demand revenge!"
+
+"My mother was wounded at Corsa," said a second. "No compromises: war!"
+
+"Yes, war to the knife!" shouted the whole assembly.
+
+"One moment!" exclaimed Monte-Cristo, in a tone of command. "I know how
+angry you all are, and yet counsel you to reflect. A nation which is
+eager for independence, is strong and powerful, but your oppressors are
+as numerous as sands in the sea. You will conquer, Milan will be free;
+but when you have spilled your blood, and piled your bodies up like a
+wall, the allies upon whom you count will desert you. You will fall
+again into the hands of the enemy, and the heavy yoke will become
+heavier. Charles Albert, the king of Sardinia, will betray you as soon
+as his ends have been served. Do you still desire to carry out your
+ideas?"
+
+Monte-Cristo's words sounded prophetic. The patriots could not
+dissimulate the impression they made. But their opinions did not change.
+
+"And if the worst should come!" said one, courageously, "I would rather
+die than hesitate any longer. To arms!"
+
+"To arms, then!" repeated the Marquis of Sante-Croce, solemnly, "and may
+God be with us!"
+
+"But where is Aslitta? He must lead us," some cried.
+
+La Luciola advanced.
+
+"The patriot Aslitta has been imprisoned," she sorrowfully said; "he is
+lying in the citadel."
+
+A cry of rage arose.
+
+"Let us rescue him," came from all sides. "Let us storm the citadel
+before they murder him."
+
+"Yes, let us rescue him," said Monte-Cristo. "Let the fight begin
+to-morrow! To arms in the name of humanity and freedom!"
+
+Suddenly a man arose from the crowd, who had heretofore remained silent,
+and casting a look at the count, he slowly said:
+
+"We hardly know you. What guarantee will you give us that you won't
+betray us?"
+
+"The man is right," the count replied. "Sante-Croce, here is my own
+child. Take Spero with you. Let him vouch for his father with his head!"
+
+Sante-Croce refused to accept the guarantee, but Monte-Cristo was firm.
+The boy, with proudly uplifted head, strode toward the old man and said:
+
+"I shall accompany you. My father has taught me to do my duty."
+
+With enthusiastic cries the patriots crowded about the handsome lad, and
+Monte-Cristo felt his heart throb with joy as he looked at Spero.
+
+"And I, too, will accompany you!" exclaimed La Luciola. "Italy must be
+freed, and Aslitta rescued."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+FATHER AND SON
+
+
+Benedetto, who had been pushed into the open sea in a frail bark by the
+Count of Monte-Cristo, had been miraculously rescued by some fishermen,
+and when the murderer recovered consciousness his first glance fell on
+the box which stood near his bed. The contents were undisturbed, the
+poor fishermen had not thought of opening the box which the Count of
+Monte-Cristo had closed again, and thus the world stood open to the
+wretch.
+
+His viperous instincts had not deserted him. One evening as Benedetto
+lay faint and weak on the straw, he heard low murmurs of conversation in
+the neighboring room. He discovered that his benefactors belonged to a
+patriotic league similar to the Carbonari, whose object was to free
+Italy. On this particular evening they were discussing the question of
+shipping arms and ammunition to their countrymen.
+
+The next day Benedetto, with tears in his eyes, told them that he had to
+depart at once, as he was expected at Lucca by a friend of his. The
+honest fishermen took cordial leave of him. He arrived at Lucca, got
+some elegant clothing there, and went to Milan, where he represented
+himself as Count San Pietro. His first visit was to Radetzky, to whom he
+denounced the fishermen who had saved his life. Radetzky took advantage
+of the traitor's story, captured the fishermen, had them tried by
+court-martial, and then shot. From that moment San Pietro became a
+favorite of the marshal.
+
+The Major Bartolomeo had been formerly a croupier in a large gambling
+house at Lucca. Where he got his major's title from, no one knew; even
+his mistress, the beautiful Aurora Vertelli, was reticent on this point.
+When Bartolomeo came back from Paris and threw his winnings, amounting
+to fifty thousand francs, into the lap of the handsome Aurora Vertelli,
+the practical beauty said:
+
+"Bartolomeo, suppose we open a dining-room too. You have been a croupier
+long enough--let us try to turn over the fifty thousand francs."
+
+Bartolomeo gleefully assented to this proposal. They opened a
+magnificent place, and were soon making money hand over fist. Yet--no
+luck without a shadow--one evening, as Bartolomeo was receiving his
+guests, a tall, slim young man, whose face was disfigured by a scar,
+approached him, and laying his hand upon his shoulder, whispered in his
+ear:
+
+"Good-evening, father."
+
+The major trembled, and, looking with affright at the stranger,
+stammered:
+
+"I do not know you, sir--it would be a great honor to me--but--"
+
+The stranger laughed loudly, and, conducting the major to a neighboring
+room, impressively said:
+
+"My dear sir, let us be candid--do you remember the name of Cavalcanti
+which you once wrongfully bore?"
+
+The major grew pale, and the stranger continued unmercifully:
+
+"If the officials were to find out that you were once a counterfeiter,
+it might go hard with you. Your license would be revoked, and
+besides--well, you understand."
+
+The major looked about him in astonishment--who was the man who knew the
+secrets of his past life?
+
+"Well, father?" mockingly said Benedetto.
+
+"Father, father," repeated the major, dazed. "You are not--"
+
+He mechanically opened his arms to press Benedetto to his heart.
+
+"Not necessary," said the latter, laughing. "We are not in the Count of
+Monte-Cristo's house, and can dispense with tenderness."
+
+The major sighed--for a further sum of fifty thousand francs he would
+have embraced ten Andreas.
+
+"But who are you, anyhow?" he finally asked. "I thought I had heard that
+you--"
+
+"Beware!" exclaimed Benedetto. "Do not refer to the past; here I am the
+Count of San Pietro!"
+
+"The confidant--" stammered the major.
+
+"Of Radetzky," added Benedetto.
+
+"But as an Italian--"
+
+"Keep silent and listen to me. Either you do as I say, or else I
+denounce you to the marshal," said Benedetto in a rough voice, and as
+the major bowed his head, the wretch explained to him what he wished of
+him. It was nothing less than to play the part of a spy.
+
+One can call one's self a major, even play the part of a loving father
+for a sum of fifty thousand francs, and yet not be a traitor to one's
+country, and Bartolomeo, in spite of his being a criminal, was an ardent
+patriot; but when the count calmly said he would have Radetzky close the
+Casino, he gave in.
+
+From that day the major tried to drive the Italians away from his
+Casino. He was pompous and disrespectful to his countrymen and polite
+and cordial to the Austrian officers, so that the latter were at length
+the only ones who came, and San Pietro's spy had very little news to
+report.
+
+Aslitta, who was playing a double game, was the only one who could not
+be driven away. One day he took Bartolomeo aside, told him he knew his
+position exactly and would help him to deceive San Pietro and free Milan
+of the tyrant.
+
+Bartolomeo, who until now found himself despised by his countrymen, was
+overjoyed; he threw himself at the feet of Aslitta, acknowledged him as
+his deity and vowed that he would follow him at command.
+
+Bartolomeo arose, and as he did so he secretly resolved to square his
+account with Benedetto in such a way as to serve his country. He soon
+became the most clever of Aslitta's emissaries, and soon pictured
+himself as one of the most illustrious patriots of his country bedecked
+with laurels.
+
+But fortune makes rapid strides. Through certain peculiar events
+Benedetto turned his attention to Bartolomeo and caused a strict watch
+to be kept upon him, and when on the evening of the 15th of March he saw
+him vanish from the Casino he realized all.
+
+Night was already far advanced when he reached the damp subterranean
+cell of Bartolomeo and rattled the rusty hooks that held the bolts. The
+major having fallen into a pleasant revery in which he beheld visions of
+his future greatness as a martyr to duty's cause, raised his eyes and
+shrank back as he saw the three men, one of whom carried a cane tipped
+with hair of an unusual design.
+
+"Get up, you old fool," cried the one who carried the cane, addressing
+the prisoner, "follow us!"
+
+Bartolomeo rose without a murmur, and, arranging his disordered uniform,
+stepped between the two soldiers, who bore torches, and who rudely
+pushed him down a dark stair.
+
+He was no coward, but yet he felt as though he would rather ascend to
+where he could at least enjoy the sunshine than go further down where it
+became darker and colder. They walked a considerable distance along dark
+passages, and halted in front of a rickety iron door. A huge key was
+thrust into the keyhole and slowly the bolts sprang back.
+
+Accompanied by his guides, Bartolomeo stepped into a gloomy cavern--the
+torture-chamber. Heavy chains hung on the walls, blocks, tourniquets,
+thumbscrews, and other implements of torture lay upon the floor, while
+the corners contained a variety of others which the major could not
+recognize.
+
+"Sit down," commanded the bearer of the cane, pointing to a block; as
+Bartolomeo hesitated, a well-directed blow caused him to accelerate his
+movements. Thereupon the man withdrew, leaving the major and the
+soldiers behind. The prisoner gazed timidly upon his jailers, and
+murmured:
+
+"Poor prospects for me."
+
+Although the remark was scarcely audible, a heavy blow from one of the
+soldiers caused him to stagger, and for the next fifteen minutes he
+remained silent.
+
+At last the door was again opened and Benedetto entered; at a sign the
+soldiers withdrew; to his dismay, Bartolomeo saw his former son standing
+before him.
+
+Benedetto wore the uniform of an Austrian officer, a kalpak was strapped
+over his forehead and his coat bedecked with costly gold lace. From his
+belt hung a dagger, whose handle was inlaid with jewels, which was
+partly concealed by the flowing mantle that covered his shoulders. As
+soon as he entered he threw off the mantle and posed, as if to dazzle
+Bartolomeo with the splendor of his attire.
+
+"You know," he began, without wasting any words, "that you need expect
+no mercy from me."
+
+The major remained silent, his speech failed him through the brusque
+manner in which he was addressed. Taking advantage of the situation,
+Benedetto continued:
+
+"You have betrayed me. Don't deny it--I know all."
+
+"I!" stammered the major, confused.
+
+"Yes, you!--the virago has exposed you."
+
+This remark roused the nobler qualities of Bartolomeo. He was astounded
+at the impudence of the knave who dared to call Aurora a virago.
+
+"Be silent!" he cried, angrily; "and do not malign the character of a
+pure woman--you red-headed scoundrel!"
+
+Benedetto moved as if to rise, but on second thoughts he remained
+seated, and burst into a hearty laugh.
+
+"Your immutable confidence in your wife is to be envied, but really it
+is out of place here. Aurora Vertelli has confessed to me what you will
+doubtless deny. I forced her to admit the truth at the point of the
+pistol."
+
+The major grew pale, and beneath his clinched lips a terrible feeling
+raged.
+
+"Base coward! to wring a confession from a woman in such a way."
+
+"Enough--cease your idle talk," cried Benedetto, stamping his foot
+nervously. "Tell me, where do the so-called patriots hold their
+meetings? Do not hesitate. Aslitta is a prisoner like yourself, and I
+desire to know the truth."
+
+"I do not know," replied the major, with a sinister smile.
+
+"You don't say so. I am sorry for you, for I believed that your memory
+would come to the rescue," said Benedetto, casting a knowing glance at
+the implements of torture.
+
+Bartolomeo's heart beat fast. He knew that Benedetto was capable of any
+crime. Not a muscle of his face trembled as Benedetto said
+threateningly:
+
+"So you will not speak!"
+
+Bartolomeo cast a look of contempt toward him, and exclaimed: "Go to the
+devil!"
+
+Benedetto clinched his fist and held it in the face of the major.
+
+"Did you not understand me? Look here! You see those beautiful toys?"
+pointing to the implements of torture. "I will dismember you if you
+hesitate longer!"
+
+"Tell me, what did you want," demanded the major, with a shrug of his
+shoulders, "at the time when you introduced me into the salon of the
+Count of Monte-Cristo?"
+
+A cry of rage, uttered by Benedetto, interrupted him.
+
+"Do not mention that name!" exclaimed the bandit, gritting his teeth.
+"If I kill you off and slay Aslitta it will only be to wreak my
+vengeance upon that man, whom I despise. Oh, he called me a galley slave
+once--the murderer!"
+
+And he stopped short, his voice half choked with rage. Bartolomeo
+trembled visibly; and to humble him the more, Benedetto spat in his
+face.
+
+The major scarcely regarded this last insult. He was busied with many
+reflections. How would it be if he tried to overpower Benedetto?
+
+"Well, I am waiting," said San Pietro, after a pause; "will you speak?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You know that Aslitta is in my power, and you will die like him if you
+remain headstrong."
+
+"Listen to me, Benedetto," said the major, earnestly. "I have lied and
+defrauded, but never will I consent to become a traitor to my country!"
+
+"Well, then, come along!" cried Benedetto, seizing the major by the
+shoulder and shoving him to a corner of the closet. There stood an old
+wardrobe. Benedetto opened the door, and, by the flickering light of the
+torches, Bartolomeo saw the dim outlines of a human head, which stood
+out like a silhouette from the wall.
+
+"Do you see that apparatus?" he asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And do you know its purpose?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then mark well what I say--you shall soon know! About a century ago an
+Italian nobleman was deceived by his wife, who had a liaison with one of
+his pages. The nobleman discovered it, but pretended ignorance in order
+to complete his plans for the destruction of both. One day he presented
+the page with a beautifully wrought helmet. As soon as the present was
+received, the page placed it upon his head, and, lo! it fitted him so
+perfectly that he could not take it off, and he died a horrible death;
+for as soon as it touched the forehead a concealed spring loosened and
+caused the helmet to drop over the head, thus choking him."
+
+"Well," replied Bartolomeo, in suspense.
+
+"Well, in this closet you will find the counterpart of that beautiful
+helmet. If you refuse to accede to my demands I shall summon aid and
+have you placed in the closet. A delicate attachment will push the
+helmet into place, and after your head has been placed inside, you will
+die a most horrible slow death by starvation, and that indeed is a
+terrible way to die."
+
+"I am resigned," was the quick response of the major. With a strong
+grasp he seized Benedetto, who was unprepared for the attack, and pushed
+him into the wardrobe. The ominous helmet encircled his head, and,
+despite his struggles, he could not free himself.
+
+Bartolomeo stopped for a moment; being a prudent man, he at once foresaw
+what was to be done. Throwing his green coat across his shoulders, he
+approached Benedetto. He tore the embroidered coat from his body, and
+replaced it by his own, and, together with the kalpak, which Benedetto
+had thrown aside, completed his toilet.
+
+Hastily strapping the dagger to his side, he left the torture chamber.
+At the door he met the soldiers, who did not recognize him, and saluted
+him as he passed. His thoughts were not regarding his own safety--he
+desired to rescue Aslitta if possible.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+IN THE WELL
+
+
+The subterranean prison into which Aslitta had been thrown was dark as
+pitch, and it was a long time before his eyes became accustomed to the
+darkness and he could make out his surroundings. He remembered that he
+had descended many steps, and he supposed that his cell was in the
+casemates of the citadel.
+
+He soon discovered that the cell was very narrow but high; about ten
+feet above his head he found an opening, secured by iron bars. All
+attempts to reach this proved futile, and he could secure no foothold on
+the slippery walls.
+
+What should he do? At any moment the door might be opened, and his
+captors enter and lead him to the torture-chamber, or, perhaps, to his
+doom. He did not fear death itself--but what would become of Luciola in
+case he died? The last meeting of the patriots was to take place this
+very evening. As it was, there were but a few of these in comparison to
+the number of their oppressors, and if but one remained away the good
+work might be seriously hampered.
+
+He paced the floor deeply absorbed in thought, when suddenly he stumbled
+and fell, as it appeared, into a vast empty space. Instinctively
+extending his arms, he caught hold of one of the projecting ledges, and
+so hung suspended in mid-air.
+
+What was to be done? Aslitta strove to secure a foothold, but the
+relation of his accident to his imprisonment soon dawned upon him.
+
+In the centre of the floor he had discovered an opening, which evidently
+was the passage leading to a well, or perhaps, as he thought, to one of
+the unused drains, such as there are many in the old castles. A low
+stone fence surrounded the opening, and it was this over which he had
+stumbled. Aslitta reflected for a moment--perhaps it was once covered
+with a stone, which, slipping out of place, dropped below. The opening
+was not very wide, and it was only after a great effort that he
+succeeded in jumping over the rail.
+
+If he could only have seen whether there was water in the well which
+might aid him in his escape. What would he not have given for a match?
+But that was out of the question.
+
+Suddenly he stopped short; it appeared as though he heard a noise
+proceed from the well. He listened, but again everything was quiet. He
+bent over the opening, and now he could distinctly hear a sound. It was
+a human voice--it was a curse he had heard uttered.
+
+Placing his hands about his mouth he cried out:
+
+"Is anybody here?"
+
+No answer came. The prisoner waited and then called out once more.
+
+Again no answer came.
+
+Presently he heard a voice cry out, "You are a prisoner; are you not?"
+
+"Yes, I am. Whoever you may be, have no fear; I am not your enemy,"
+returned the voice of Aslitta.
+
+"I am down in the water half drowned."
+
+"Peculiar," thought Aslitta; "I ought to know that voice, it sounds so
+familiar;" and in a loud tone he asked, "Who are you?"
+
+Yet no answer came; evidently the voice in the well doubted his
+sincerity. To his good fortune he found a match which he lighted. With a
+suppressed cry he shrank back; he recognized the uniform of the Austrian
+officer.
+
+Before he could recover his surprise, he heard words in pure Italian
+proceeding from the well.
+
+"Keep me up! I am sinking deeper and deeper."
+
+Now there was no reason for doubt; were he friend or enemy he would save
+him. Quickly unfastening his scarf, he held one end firmly while he
+threw the other over into the well.
+
+"Catch hold of the scarf," he called down, "the stuff is firm and will
+bear you."
+
+Immediately thereafter he felt that his order had been obeyed--the heavy
+silk became taut.
+
+"Pull up," a voice now cried from below, "I will hold tight."
+
+Aslitta was young and powerful, but he had to exert himself terribly to
+pull up the heavy load and lift it over the rim of the well.
+
+"Thank Heaven," the words reached his ear, "for the present we are
+saved. Ah, what would my poor Aurora say if she knew this?"
+
+Aurora! This name seemed like a revelation to Aslitta, and, in glad
+surprise, he exclaimed:
+
+"Bartolomeo--is it you?"
+
+"Why, of course; but with whom have I the honor--It is as dark here as
+in a sack."
+
+"I am Giorgio Aslitta."
+
+"Heaven be praised that I have found you. I was looking for you."
+
+"Indeed? Where, in truth, do you come from?"
+
+"Oh, that would take us too far to-day. I fell into the clutches of that
+cursed San Pietro and escaped from him only through a miracle. Well, for
+that he's now got his deserts."
+
+"Is he dead?"
+
+"Oh, no. That sort of vermin has a very tough life, but he's locked up
+for the present, and therefore we must hurry up to clear out."
+
+"I'm with you, only tell me how and in which way, and, besides, I would
+like to know how you obtained that Croatian uniform."
+
+"Oh, that was a rare joke! It was San Pietro's uniform which I took from
+him. I will tell you the particulars later on--or do you mistrust me?"
+
+"No, Bartolomeo, I know you as a good patriot."
+
+"Thanks for this word. I come, besides, direct from the torture-chamber.
+After I had escaped from my torturer I was standing in a damp, narrow,
+totally dark passage. By groping along I reached a descending staircase;
+I slowly walked on and only stopped when I felt the moisture under my
+feet. But what could I do? I cautiously groped ahead, and soon my shoes
+were filled with water. It shortly afterward rose to my calves; and
+then, oh joy! I could again rise to my full height. The steps were at an
+end and I stood in a capacious vault, as I could perceive by the light
+of a match. At the same time I felt a strong draught, and then I heard
+your question whether anybody was down there. I answered for
+luck--whether I was captured or drowned in the gradually rising water
+would, in the end, amount to the same thing."
+
+"But why were you arrested?"
+
+"Later on you shall hear all."
+
+"Can you not at least tell me whether Luciola has been saved?"
+
+"Yes, she is in safety in the Count of Monte-Cristo's house."
+
+"Heaven be praised! Now I can die calmly," whispered Aslitta.
+
+"Nonsense! who is speaking of dying? Think of our rescue. It is not safe
+to remain here, and the sooner we get out of this hole the better. Where
+is this cell?"
+
+"Ah, if I knew that! I have no matches, and, therefore, could not very
+well fix where I was."
+
+"Good; we will find out."
+
+Bartolomeo drew a match from his pocket, and soon a bright light
+illuminated the cell, without, however, revealing a consoling prospect.
+
+"Humph!" growled the major, "it was, after all, better down there."
+
+"But there, also, you did not find an exit."
+
+"True; but I was, perhaps, awkward. You may do better. Let us descend."
+
+"As if that was so easy. If one holds the scarf, the other can descend,
+and that's the end of the chapter," said Aslitta, calmly.
+
+"Well, one's enough," thought the major, after a few moments'
+deliberation.
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Well, I don't amount to much, and if I go under, my poor wife will be
+taken care of. You will give Aurora a small annuity, will you not,
+marquis, should she fall in need, and you will tell her that I died for
+my country? You, on the other hand, must preserve yourself. What would
+become of Italy without you? Come, I will hold the scarf, and you can
+descend by it. The more I consider it, the surer I am that there's a
+canal down there, by means of which we can get into the moat of the
+fortress. Well, won't you do it?"
+
+"No," replied Aslitta, with emotion. "I would be a scoundrel to save
+myself at your expense."
+
+"But there's no other way. Were I in your place I would not hesitate an
+instant. Think of your friends; you are to lead them, and if you are
+missing, they are lost."
+
+Tears rose to Aslitta's eyes, but he resisted no longer, and, cordially
+shaking the major's hand, he said: "Friend, I accept your sacrifice, and
+if I find an exit, I will save you."
+
+It seemed to Bartolomeo as if Aslitta's clasp was the most precious
+thing he had gained, and he was almost overcome with emotion. But he
+quickly recovered when he heard footsteps close at hand, and urged
+Aslitta to leave.
+
+The young man embraced the major.
+
+"Thanks, in the name of Italy!" he ardently exclaimed. Then, tying the
+scarf around his waist, he swung himself from the rim of the well.
+
+Bartolomeo held the other end of the scarf with all his might. Aslitta
+must now have reached the bottom. At the moment when the major let go
+of the silken stuff, a key was turned in the lock and the door opened.
+The major had crouched on the floor; but, as he threw a glance at those
+who entered, he almost uttered a loud ejaculation, for before him
+stood--Benedetto. "I thought so," muttered Bartolomeo, in a rage; "some
+cursed chance has rescued him. Such a scoundrel's soul is too bad for
+the devil himself."
+
+"Get up, vagabond," roughly exclaimed Benedetto.
+
+He had looked up Aslitta to avenge Bartolomeo's escape on him, and he
+was in a very bad humor.
+
+As the major did not stir, Benedetto uttered an oath and cried:
+
+"Are you deaf, Aslitta?"
+
+He then snatched a torch from one of the soldiers who accompanied him
+and looked around. As if struck by lightning he started when a
+well-known voice tauntingly said:
+
+"Good-day, Andrea Cavalcanti."
+
+"You and always you!" cried the bandit furiously. "Where is the other
+one?"
+
+The major shrugged his shoulders, while the soldiers looked in every
+corner and Benedetto angrily gnawed his under lip.
+
+"He has probably escaped through the well," said one of the soldiers at
+last.
+
+"Oh, then we have him sure," laughed another.
+
+"Light here," ordered Benedetto, bending over the opening. The soldier
+obeyed as directed and Bartolomeo felt his heart cease beating.
+
+"We have him sure," one of the soldiers had said. Was the well a trap? A
+strange sound was now heard. The major sank on his knees. He recognized
+the noise. The water was slowly rising in the well and soon stood
+hand-high under the stone curbing.
+
+"Where does the water come from?" asked Benedetto, stepping back.
+
+"About a quarter of an hour ago," replied one of the soldiers, "the
+commander gave the order to open the sluices of Santa Maria. Canals run
+from the aqueduct under the citadel, and that's why I said before we had
+our prisoner sure. He is drowned."
+
+"Speak, wretch!" said San Pietro, turning to the major. "Did Aslitta
+escape through the well?"
+
+But Bartolomeo made no reply. A dull sob escaped his lips, and his eyes,
+filled with hot tears, fixed themselves, in horror, on the silk scarf
+which the rising flood wafted to and fro.
+
+"One has escaped," cried Benedetto, from between his gritted teeth, "but
+the other shall suffer for it. Take the prisoner with you," he added,
+addressing the soldiers; "to-morrow at daybreak he shall be shot."
+
+He walked toward the door. Bartolomeo slowly rose to his feet and
+muttered only a single word:
+
+"Villain!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+SPERO
+
+
+The morning of the 16th of March had come, and Milan had a martial
+appearance. Placards were attached to all the walls, informing the
+Imperial authorities of the ultimatum of the people of Lombardy; a great
+throng was gathered around these placards, and the streets were crowded
+with Austrian troops.
+
+Grenadiers were on guard before the official buildings, but the
+sentinels were suddenly disarmed, and, without being able to tell how it
+happened, the palace was occupied by the citizens. The municipal
+councillors fled in every direction; only the president of the Senate
+remained firm, and only when the tumult became greater, he, too, went,
+guarded by an escort, to the Brobetto palace, which was situated in the
+centre of the city.
+
+In the Via Del Monte the crowd was the greatest, and all passage was
+soon entirely cut off. Rifle shots were suddenly heard, deafening shouts
+followed, and there was a terrible confusion. Radetzky had ordered his
+soldiers to load heavily and to fire into the crowd. A howl of rage
+followed the first discharge, and numberless wounded fell to the ground.
+That was no honest combat, but an infamous massacre.
+
+Monte-Cristo stood at one of the lofty arched windows in the Vidiserti
+palace, and, with a dark frown, observed the terrible massacre which
+Radetzky's minions created in the streets. Spero stood at his father's
+side.
+
+"See, papa," he said, with tear-choked utterance, "that wounded woman
+carrying a dead child. It was shot in her arms. Oh, the poor wretches,
+what did they do to the soldiers?"
+
+"My child," sadly replied Monte-Cristo, "man's worst enemy is man!"
+
+"Papa!" suddenly exclaimed Spero, "see, there, the flag!"
+
+The count glanced in the direction indicated. A young Italian had just
+climbed up the tower of a church opposite the Vidiserti palace, and
+there unfurled the national standard. The tricolor fluttered gayly in
+the wind. Suddenly, however, the young man was seen to totter; he sought
+to hold himself, turned a somersault and fell crushed to the pavement. A
+bullet had hit him.
+
+At this moment Bertuccio entered the hall.
+
+"Well?" asked the count.
+
+"Count, one of our emissaries has penetrated to the citadel. The Marquis
+Aslitta is no longer there!"
+
+"What can that mean? Had he escaped he would have looked for us here,"
+exclaimed the count uneasily.
+
+"The man could learn nothing further," said Bertuccio, sadly; "but he
+was informed that some one else was found in the marquis's cell."
+
+"Some one else? Who?"
+
+"You know him. In Paris he called himself Major Cavalcanti, and here--"
+
+"What about this substitute?" eagerly interrupted the count.
+
+"He was sentenced to death; whether the sentence had been already
+executed our emissary could not ascertain."
+
+"Bertuccio," said the count anxiously, "if Aslitta--"
+
+"Aslitta is dead!" cried Luciola, who had entered unperceived and sank
+to her knees sobbing.
+
+"Who dares to allege that?" exclaimed the count, turning pale.
+
+"Step to the window," stammered Luciola.
+
+The count did so and staggered back, for the sight he saw confirmed the
+poor girl's words; four men, with uncovered heads, carried a bier on
+which lay a motionless body. It was the Marquis Aslitta, and
+Monte-Cristo's heart swelled as he recognized him.
+
+"How could this calamity have happened?" whispered Spero, clinging
+anxiously to Luciola.
+
+Bertuccio, in the meantime, had run down into the street to direct the
+carriers. He now returned and tremblingly said:
+
+"A quarter of an hour ago our men found the body in the moat of the
+fortifications; how Aslitta got there is a riddle."
+
+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?"
+
+Luciola had heard the prophetic words; she rose up, and, approaching the
+bier, exclaimed enthusiastically:
+
+"You hear his words; he always keeps what he promises. To arms, friends!
+Long live Italy and Liberty."
+
+
+A shout of joy answered Luciola. The next instant the street was blocked
+by turned wagons, logs and other obstacles, the pavement was torn up,
+and as the Croatians approached they found a raging multitude ready for
+defence. At a first-story window of the Palace Vidiserti Luciola stood
+and encouraged the patriots. She had seized a flag, and, unmindful of
+the bullets which whistled around her, waved the tricolor in the air.
+
+The spark had dropped into the powder barrel; from all sides the
+patriots rallied around the national standard, and, amid the ringing of
+the alarm bells, the insurrection kept growing in dimensions.
+
+Luciola had long ago left her place at the window and stood on a
+barricade, waving her flag and spurring on the combatants. The Croatians
+retreated after about an hour. Surrounded on all sides by the Italians,
+they sought safety in flight, and the patriots followed them with shouts
+of joy.
+
+Luciola now left the barricade, and, hastening into the palace, sank on
+her knees beside the bier, on which Aslitta still lay extended
+motionless. She raised her clasped hands to Monte-Cristo, who was
+busying himself about the lifeless man, and imploringly exclaimed:
+
+"Count, I have kept my word--the tricolor waves in freedom in Milan;
+restore Giorgio to me."
+
+The count did not reply; he held in his hand a small vial containing a
+dark-red liquid, and slowly he dropped single drops on Aslitta's
+compressed lips.
+
+At this instant Sante-Croce rushed into the apartment and excitedly
+exclaimed:
+
+"Things are bad, count. Radetzky has retreated with his troops into the
+citadel and begins to bombard the city! You have promised to assist us
+with act and counsel, and, instead of redeeming your word, you are
+wasting the time in useless revivification experiments. Let the dead
+alone and take care of the living."
+
+Monte-Cristo's flashing eyes fixed themselves on the old patriot, and
+with ringing tones he retorted:
+
+"Marquis, I have as yet always kept my word."
+
+"But when? It may soon be too late. We are lacking in arms and
+ammunition, and the superiority of numbers will crush us if we are
+defenceless."
+
+"Ali," ordered the count.
+
+The Nubian appeared and glanced inquiringly at his master.
+
+"You have the key of the vault which contains the arms and ammunition?"
+
+Ali nodded.
+
+"Go and show the Marquis of Sante-Croce the way to the vaults. Arm the
+patriots, marquis, and believe my words, before night Radetzky will give
+up the fight and to-morrow will leave Milan. Stop, one instant yet; I
+told the patriots that the Marquis Aslitta would lead them. I have kept
+my word. See for yourself. Aslitta opens his eyes; he lives."
+
+The dark eyelids really opened, and with a dreamy look Aslitta surveyed
+the people who surrounded him.
+
+"Thanks be to God, he lives!" exclaimed Luciola, gleefully.
+
+"Calm yourself, Eugenie," said the Count. "Aslitta must be spared for
+the present any excitement! Leave him to me, he will soon recover."
+
+"Oh, you have performed a miracle," said Luciola, enthusiastically.
+
+Monte-Cristo bowed his head and a tear glistened in his eye.
+
+It was in memory of his friend and teacher, the Abbe Faria.
+
+Sante-Croce looked wonderingly at the count.
+
+"You are a god!" he exclaimed; "forgive the words I spoke before."
+
+"I have nothing to forgive," replied the count, gently; "I have only to
+keep what I have promised. Spero, come here."
+
+"Here I am, papa," called the boy.
+
+"Good, my son. You know your duty. Accompany the patriots; take my place
+until Aslitta's condition permits me to relieve you."
+
+A cannon-shot caused the house to shake to its foundations, and Haydee,
+pale and trembling, entered.
+
+"The bombardment begins," she whispered to her husband. "Oh, the
+cruelty!"
+
+Monte-Cristo threw his arm about his handsome wife, and giving the boy a
+wink, he consolingly said:
+
+"Spero will be worthy of you and me. Come, Spero, say good-by and go."
+
+Spero pressed a kiss on Haydee's lips, threw his arms about his father's
+neck and whispered in his ear:
+
+"I will do my duty."
+
+Turning to the marquis he put his hand in that of the old man and said:
+
+"Let us go!"
+
+A half-hour passed by. Monte-Cristo and Haydee were still busied with
+Aslitta, when a servant entered bearing a sealed letter on a silver
+salver.
+
+"A courier who has come from France has just brought it," said the
+servant, in answer to a question of the count's.
+
+"Did he give his name?"
+
+"Yes; he said his name was Penelon, and that he came from Marseilles."
+
+"From Marseilles!" exclaimed Haydee, anxiously; "oh, quick! see what the
+letter says."
+
+Monte-Cristo broke the seal. The letter only contained a few words:
+
+
+     "I am dying from grief. Come at once!
+
+                                   "MERCEDES."
+
+
+The count handed the letter to Haydee. The latter read it and then said:
+
+"When do we go?"
+
+"Thanks, Haydee," said the count, tenderly. "We go as soon as my duty
+here is ended! Give the necessary orders. Let Bertuccio inform Jacopo
+and rest easy! See, Aslitta has recovered--God will protect Spero!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+ECARTE
+
+
+Bartolomeo was thrown into a subterranean dungeon of the citadel, and
+now that Aslitta was lost he accepted his fate calmly. He could not be
+of any further service to the fatherland.
+
+As he was sitting meditatively in his cell, the door opened and a
+corporal entered.
+
+"What do you wish?" asked the major politely. "What time is it?"
+
+"Three o'clock in the morning," replied the corporal, a handsome young
+fellow with blue eyes and blond hair.
+
+"Only three o'clock. Then I have three long hours still to live. Can't I
+be shot at once?"
+
+"No, no chance whatever."
+
+"How awkward. What shall I do with myself? It's so monotonous here!"
+
+"Oh, you can remedy that," said the corporal, laughing.
+
+"How so? What do you mean?" asked Bartolomeo.
+
+"Well, you see, I know that you are a good card-player. To-morrow I must
+shoot you, and before doing so I came here to ask you to do me a favor.
+Will you please teach me _ecarte_?"
+
+"With pleasure," replied the major.
+
+"Good; then let us begin," said the soldier, gleefully, and pulling a
+pack of cards out of his pocket, he threw them on a chair and went away,
+returning shortly afterward with a drum.
+
+The major seated himself on a chair, the corporal on the bed, and the
+drum served as a table.
+
+The corporal was a good scholar and soon learned the elements of the
+game. Bartolomeo was delighted. He dealt, picked up, trumped, and forgot
+entirely that in a few hours he would be shot.
+
+When the clock struck four, the young man had won twice, and he proudly
+exclaimed:
+
+"If my luck continues, I will be ahead of you soon. Couldn't we play for
+money?"
+
+"No, that would be unfair," replied the major, "I am so superior to
+you."
+
+"Oh, that could be tested by a trial. But first I will get some rum. I
+am thirsty, and you are so also, no doubt."
+
+"Thanks, I will take some too," replied Bartolomeo.
+
+The corporal disappeared. As soon as the footsteps died away, the major
+took the cards and stacked them. When the soldier returned with the rum,
+the major had already taken his place.
+
+"Ah, that tastes good," he said, after he had taken a deep draught.
+
+The corporal drank also and then they sat down again. This time the game
+was for money, the stakes being a few pennies. After a while, the
+soldier in the meantime having won repeatedly, the stakes were
+increased. The major continued to lose, and soon the soldier had won
+all of Bartolomeo's cash. While the play was going on they drank often,
+and when Bartolomeo refused to play any more because his money was all
+gone, the corporal said he would lend him a few lire.
+
+"Ah, if I lose these too," remarked the major, "the time will have gone
+by for a revenge. It is already past five o'clock."
+
+"Bah--let us play anyhow!" exclaimed the corporal, exhilarated by the
+money he had won and the liquor he had swallowed.
+
+A slight smile crossed the major's lips. The play began again, but this
+time the prisoner won. It did not take long before the major had not
+only won back all his money, but that of the corporal's too, and just as
+the latter had asked him for a loan a knock was heard at the door.
+
+"Confound it!" exclaimed the corporal, "who is disturbing us now?"
+
+In answer to a harsh "Come in," the door opened and a soldier appeared.
+He announced that it was time to go to the barracks in the Piazza
+Poliziotti.
+
+"It is all right; I shall be there directly," answered the corporal.
+
+The soldier departed, and the corporal now turned to Bartolomeo, who had
+arisen from his chair.
+
+"One more game," begged the Austrian.
+
+"Not for the world. I must collect my thoughts now, and close my account
+with God," replied the major.
+
+"But you won my money and ought to give me a revenge."
+
+"Gladly, if I only had time to do so."
+
+The corporal, who was very tight, swore roundly.
+
+The major gazed at him for a moment, and then in a hesitating way said:
+
+"I know a way out of the difficulty."
+
+"What is it?" asked the corporal, breathlessly.
+
+"Your order is to shoot me, and then to go to the barracks; postpone the
+execution half an hour--take me with you to the Poliziotti barracks, and
+I will give you your revenge there," proposed Bartolomeo.
+
+"Certainly," cried the corporal, gleefully.
+
+He strode in advance of Bartolomeo, and ordered his men to take the
+major along to the barracks.
+
+The soldiers looked at one another in astonishment, but none dared to
+say a word, and at a quick step they were on their way to the barracks.
+
+"Time won--everything won," muttered the major. "I have not played cards
+a lifetime for nothing."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+FORWARD!
+
+
+In the streets of Milan the battle raged. The Italians resembled lions
+in courage, and soon one bulwark after another fell into their hands.
+The ladies of the aristocracy were busy in the Casa Borromeo melting
+lead and making cannon-balls. All the druggists and chemists
+manufactured powder and gun-cotton, and the gunsmiths gave up their
+stocks of firearms.
+
+In spite of the brave resistance of the Austrians, the Borletto Palace
+had been conquered again by the patriots. Radetzky demanded an
+armistice, but his proposition was declined. The enemy were not allowed
+time to collect themselves.
+
+One barrack after the other was captured, and then the great mass of the
+patriots turned toward the Casa Santa Margarita, where the _elite_ of
+the artillery had taken up a position, and a bitter struggle ensued. The
+battle raged indecisively for a long time, when suddenly a bright flame
+issued from the gate. A patriot, Pasquale Sottocorni, had stealthily
+reached the palace and set it on fire. He was the first victim of his
+heroic deed, and died with the cry on his lips:
+
+"Long live Italy!"
+
+But his boldness helped the patriots materially. The escaping soldiers
+were taken prisoners, and the ranks of the people were recruited in
+numbers. The Poliziotti barracks still remained to be captured. The
+Poliziotti was intensely hated in Milan because it was mainly filled
+with renegades--Italians who sold themselves to Radetzky.
+
+While the fight was going on about the building, Bartolomeo and the
+corporal were sitting in a room playing cards. The major permitted his
+pupil to win and lose at times. Every minute he gained was precious to
+him, and the corporal did not dream of shooting his teacher while they
+were playing _ecarte_.
+
+From time to time a soldier put his head in the room to ask when the
+execution was going to take place.
+
+Every time he did so he was told to be off.
+
+The corporal had just finished dealing the cards, when the soldier again
+appeared.
+
+"Corporal," he said, breathlessly, "the Poliziotti are giving way, the
+Croatians are decimated--shall we go to their rescue?"
+
+"Bah! we are only a handful," growled the corporal. "Let us await the
+result."
+
+The door closed behind the soldier. Bartolomeo now sprang up, took the
+sword and gun from the drunken corporal, and cried in his ear:
+
+"Obey my order, or you are a dead man!"
+
+"What--should--I--do?" stammered the corporal, partly sobered.
+
+"Hoist the white flag--quick!"
+
+"But I--have--no--authority--here!"
+
+"Who cares?" exclaimed Bartolomeo, "give the order--the people will be
+needlessly sacrificed--are you going now?"
+
+The corporal still hesitated, but just then a police sergeant ran in and
+cried:
+
+"Corporal--let your men get shot--the scoundrels refuse to fight!"
+
+Bartolomeo had placed himself behind the corporal; the muzzle of the gun
+lay against his knee, and this fact made the Austrian obedient.
+
+"My people are right," he said, gruffly; "I have given the order to
+hoist the white flag."
+
+"The white flag? What for?"
+
+"Special order from the marshal," replied the corporal.
+
+"Which reached you?" asked the sergeant, distrustfully.
+
+"Yes; do not consider any longer!" thundered Bartolomeo, coming forward:
+"I have brought the order myself."
+
+The sergeant saw the Austrian uniform; he disappeared hurriedly, and
+Bartolomeo called after him:
+
+"God help you if the flag is not hoisted before two minutes have
+passed."
+
+Suddenly the firing ceased, a loud noise was heard. The Italians saluted
+the white flag--the signal of peace.
+
+In the barracks itself loud curses were heard--Count San Pietro had
+discovered that the white flag had been hoisted, and was heaping insults
+upon the officers. No one admitted having given the order. Benedetto,
+though, did not look kindly upon the proposition of an old colonel to
+have the flag removed. With a diabolical smile he said:
+
+"If the patriots have any confidence in the flag then it's their own
+fault. Follow my commands punctually, and I will forget your stupidity."
+
+A few minutes later a terrible crash was heard, followed by a loud cry.
+From all the windows the bullets flew; the cannons threw death and
+destruction into the ranks of the trusting patriots.
+
+The confusion only lasted a moment.
+
+"Surround the rat-hole! Not a single one must escape--down with the
+poliziotti!" exclaimed the Italians, wildly.
+
+In firm columns they advanced against the barracks, and then they
+paused. Suppose treachery was in store for them?
+
+The patriots now retreated to the right and left, to make room for two
+persons: a white-haired old man and a handsome dark-featured boy. The
+old man turned to the Italians, and said in a loud voice:
+
+"Friends and brothers! The barracks of San Francisco, San Vittore and
+the military hospital are in our possession. Radetzky's palace has been
+stormed, and the marshal's baton has fallen into the hands of the
+conquerors. Forward, with God! We two, an old man and a weak child, will
+show you the way!"
+
+Proudly erect, the old man strode toward the door, and Spero walked
+hurriedly behind him, and a fanatical, enthusiastic crowd followed.
+
+On the threshold stood an Austrian officer. He lifted his gun, and
+triumphantly exclaimed:
+
+"Ha, Monte-Cristo--to-day I shall strike you through the heart! Curses
+on you and your race!"
+
+The gun directed against Spero's breast went off. When the smoke had
+cleared away, the boy stood there unharmed, while a man tumbled down at
+his feet. It was Bartolomeo! Taking advantage of the confusion, he ran
+away and came just in the nick of time to receive Benedetto's murderous
+bullet in his breast.
+
+A quarter of an hour later Aslitta appeared accompanied by Monte-Cristo
+and La Luciola. He was still pale and exhausted, but he swung his sword
+and joyfully exclaimed: "Radetzky has fled. The citadel has
+surrendered."
+
+The Italians embraced each other. Their dream was realized. Milan was
+free.
+
+"Papa," whispered Spero, "come with me. There is a man lying over there
+who sacrificed himself for me."
+
+Monte-Cristo bent over the major, whose pale face lighted up joyfully
+when he saw the count.
+
+"Let me see the wound," said Monte-Cristo. "Who knows but--"
+
+"Unnecessary," whispered Bartolomeo; "my adopted son
+understands--how--to--aim!"
+
+"Ha! then it was Benedetto!" exclaimed the count.
+
+"His bullet was intended for me," said Spero. "He said he wished to
+strike you through the heart."
+
+"The monster!" said Monte-Cristo, and turning to Bartolomeo, he added:
+"and how shall I thank you?"
+
+"Ah!--that--does good," stammered Bartolomeo. "Count--care for--Aurora.
+Ah!--I am dying. Your hand--farewell--child. Italy--is--free!"
+
+The major stretched himself out and his eyes became glassy.
+
+Spero sobbed bitterly, and the count whispered:
+
+"May the earth be light to you. If you have sinned, your love for your
+country has made atonement!"
+
+One hour later the count, Haydee and Spero bade adieu to Aslitta and
+Luciola in the Cafe Vidiserti.
+
+"Farewell, marquis," said the count, throwing a knowing glance at
+Aslitta, who held the diva in his arms.
+
+Aslitta nodded.
+
+"To-day Luciola will be my bride," he gently said.
+
+"Why do you wish to leave us?" exclaimed Luciola, sobbing.
+
+"Because others need me. Come, Haydee, Mercedes is waiting."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+SERGEANT COUCOU
+
+
+Ten years had passed since Mercedes had bade her only son good-by. She
+lived in the small house in the Allee de Meillan at Marseilles, which
+formerly belonged to old Dantes, and though her face was pale and her
+eyes no longer sparkled as of yore, the widow of General de Morcerf was
+still a wonderfully handsome woman. Mercedes was standing at the window,
+gazing out upon the sea. Behind her stood a man in the uniform of a
+Zouave. Small, brown and thin, he looked like the type of what a Zouave
+is generally thought to be.
+
+What the Zouave's name was no one exactly knew. He had many sobriquets,
+the most popular of which was "Sergeant Coucou," so that after a while
+he was never called otherwise.
+
+The sergeant's cradle, in spite of his brown skin, had not stood in
+Africa, but in the Faubourg Merceau in Paris.
+
+Coucou was the son of a poor washerwoman. His first studies were made on
+the curbstone and in the gutter, and pretty soon he became the toughest
+boy in the neighborhood. His mother decided the time had come for her
+son to enter the army. Coucou did not hesitate long; only he made it a
+condition that he be allowed to enter an African regiment. The mother
+was satisfied. A regiment which bore the trusting name, the "Jackals,"
+was just on the point of sailing to Algiers, and so Coucou became a
+Jackal.
+
+When the time for saying good-by came, the mother began to weep, but
+Coucou consoled her.
+
+"You see, mamma," he said, confidently, "I will make a name for myself,
+and when you read about my heroic deeds in the papers, you will be proud
+of me."
+
+The mother laughed between her sobs. The few pennies she had saved she
+used to buy a pair of spectacles to read the forthcoming chronicles; for
+she was one of that class of innocent people who believe that the
+faculty of reading rests in spectacles.
+
+About the year 1843 the Zouave regiment, to which Coucou belonged, made
+a sortie under General Cavaignac against the Kabyles in Beni Djaad.
+Among the few who escaped was the Sheik Sidi ben Abed. No one knew where
+he had disappeared to, and when the call to retreat had been sounded,
+Coucou declared he would remain behind to find out where the Kabyles
+were.
+
+"They will kill you," his comrades warned him.
+
+"Bah! a Parisian child does not fear the devil!" said Coucou, laughing.
+
+In a few minutes he had disappeared. The soldiers feared the worst; but,
+to their astonishment, Coucou came back in a few hours, dragging the
+sheik by his long beard behind him. The Kabyle was armed to the teeth,
+but nevertheless Coucou had forced him to succumb without a struggle.
+
+Six months later Coucou was struck over the head by a yataghan, and,
+but for the timely interference of a comrade, would have been killed.
+How the sergeant came to the little house in the Allee de Meillan we
+will relate further on. One thing was certain, Mercedes' silence made
+him feel uncomfortable; but his eye lighted up when the door opened, and
+a small white hand was laid on Mercedes' shoulder, and a clear, bright
+voice said:
+
+"Good-day, my dear little woman."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+MISS CLARY
+
+
+Mercedes trembled and shrunk away, although the possessor of the small
+white hand was a charming young girl.
+
+A pretty little head with ash-blond hair, deep blue eyes and fresh red
+lips made Miss Clary Ellis--that was the name of the eighteen-year-old
+girl--a very beautiful picture, and the sergeant drew back respectfully,
+while Mercedes said:
+
+"Good-day, my darling--always joyful, always happy."
+
+"And you are always sorrowful, and have tears in your eyes. Better take
+me for a model, who, as a consumptive, have far more reason to be
+melancholy than you have."
+
+"I am waiting," said Mercedes, sorrowfully, "for him, and he will surely
+come if he lives."
+
+"And who is he?"
+
+"He is a faithful friend in need," replied Mercedes, solemnly, "and I
+love him as if he were divine. But tell me what brought you here to-day?
+Curiosity?"
+
+"Ungrateful woman," pouted the English girl, "as if I did not like to
+come here. But if you are so solemn, why--"
+
+"Oh, Clary, I am not solemn--I am melancholy, and at times desperate."
+
+"Desperate? How can you say such a thing?"
+
+"If you had lost everything, as I have, you would understand me," said
+Mercedes, gently. "Ah, Clary, I have seen everything about me tumble,
+but I remained easy so long as my son was with me! Since he has left me
+the world has no pleasures for me, and should I never see him again--"
+
+"But, madam," interrupted Coucou, "how can you talk that way! Why should
+you not see my brave captain again? My captain is not one of those who
+are eaten by Kabyles for supper. He defends his life, and if he should
+be in the bowels of the earth I will find him. I--"
+
+"Brave sergeant!" exclaimed Clary, and turning to Mercedes, she said:
+
+"You must not despair, little woman. As far back as I can remember
+people always said about me: 'Ah, the poor child, to have to die so
+young--it is terrible--she must go to the south!' My father and brother
+made me sign all kinds of documents in case of my death. What was the
+use of my fortune if I died, and it was a settled fact I was to die?"
+
+With a gay laugh Clary arose, and, bidding Mercedes a cordial farewell,
+left the house. The light-hearted girl's full name was Clara Ellis, and
+three months before, she, and her French governess, the widow of a
+police sergeant, had settled down in Nice. Madame Caraman, or, as Clary
+called her, Mamma Caraman, was of sound health, while her young ward,
+according to the opinion of eminent English physicians, was in an
+indifferent state of health. They sent her, because she suffered from a
+slight cough, and as being incurable and consumptive, to the south. Nice
+was the Eldorado of all chest complaints, and thus the ladies took up
+their residence in that place.
+
+Lord Ellis, Clary's father, had inherited from his parents a large
+fortune, which, however, he squandered in noble passions, and it was
+feared that his son Sir Edward, the heir-at-law, would one day inherit
+only the empty title. But it happened that owing to the sudden death of
+a rich aunt residing in India, Sir Edward's sister, Miss Clary Ellis,
+inherited an immense fortune, and from that day Lord Ellis began to pay
+attention and took care of his daughter to a much greater extent than he
+used to do. Clary since her eighth year had lived in a world of her own
+imagination; fantastic ideas and representations were the fruits of her
+education, which pompous governesses had inculcated at an early age, and
+the education recommended to Clary was for the sole purpose of
+increasing her romantic inclinations. The heroines of Byron and
+Lamartine were enviously looked upon by Clary--the "Sorrows of Werther"
+were continually lying upon her desk ready for perusal, and the young
+enthusiast was soon convinced that there was no nicer death than that of
+Marie Beaumarchais.
+
+Almost with joy she welcomed her sickness, looking upon it as a
+forerunner of approaching dissolution. Wrapped in furs, she spent her
+days upon her couch, and from an "imaginary patient" she was becoming a
+real sick person; inasmuch as the want of exercise, as well as the
+continual strain on the whole nervous system, did not fail to have its
+effect.
+
+Lord Ellis faced with manly courage the hard lot of losing his daughter
+at an early age. It was indeed a great pity that Clary could not make
+use of and enjoy her wealth, but what else could be done? As a careful
+father the lord prepared for any emergency; he urged Clary to sign
+various papers, which entitled him and his sons to make use of her
+immense wealth. The sum thus turned over for his use amounted to above
+one million sterling--but what good did it do? If Clary died, she could
+not, after all, take away her great wealth; and the million sterling was
+only a share of the still larger sum thus to be expected in case of her
+demise.
+
+The physicians all agreed that Clary should at least hold out and die in
+the south, and a companion had to be procured. She soon found one in the
+person of Madame Caraman, a lady of about forty-five years, who showed a
+sincere interest in her suffering ward, and thus they entered on their
+journey. But soon Madame Caraman found reason to doubt the incurability
+of her patient--she noticed that Clary, when leaving her carriage, or
+performing any other movement of the body, usually painful for chest
+complaints, never felt pain or the slightest inconvenience.
+
+This lasted for some time, and then Madame Caraman one day said quite
+earnestly:
+
+"My dear child--now it is enough--you are as much sick as I am! You will
+be kind enough from this day to try to eat heartily, in order to regain
+your strength; you will drink daily a glass of Bordeaux and take a walk
+with me, and not, like a sick bird in its cage, remain wrapped up in the
+corner of a carriage. No--no objections. You will also never cough again
+as you get accustomed to it; and after the lapse of a month we will see
+what further to do."
+
+Clary sighed and sobbed, but it was no use--Madame Caraman stuck to her
+will, and, trembling and hesitating, the young lady was persuaded to eat
+her first beefsteak, and to her great surprise she was not suffocated by
+the unaccustomed food; the wine she found excellent, and Madame Caraman
+triumphed.
+
+An accident happened which also brought help. One night some robbers
+tried to enter their villa; the servants slept in a building close by,
+and in this emergency Madame Caraman took to arms as soon as she heard a
+suspicious noise. With a heavy silver candlestick in her hand she
+entered the parlor from whence the noise proceeded. She knocked a person
+down, but ere she could pick up the heavy candlestick the second one had
+got hold of her throat and she would have been lost had not a shot been
+fired at the same moment, and her assailant with a loud shriek fell to
+the ground.
+
+When Madame Caraman turned around she saw Clary, pale, but with a pair
+of beaming eyes, standing at the entrance of the room, and in her tiny
+white hand the yet smoking pistol.
+
+The servants rushed in--the wounded were made prisoners, and Madame
+Caraman had to thank Clary with tears in her eyes for her assistance.
+
+"Well, for one already half dead you certainly possess a great deal of
+strength and energy," she said afterward, with cunning look; "only
+courage, dear child--we will soon see who is in the right."
+
+Clary was, to all appearance, from this day continually becoming more
+cheerful, and her strength increased gradually. It is no wonder that
+sometimes she still clung to her painful ideas, and thought it not worth
+while to live, while Madame Caraman tried hard to teach her better
+principles.
+
+"You must have some kind of occupation," she said; "you must give your
+life some aim, some purpose."
+
+"But how? Nobody stands in need of me," sobbed Clary.
+
+"Oh, that is only your own belief, but it is not so. There is much
+sorrow and misery in the world, but in large and fine streets you cannot
+meet with it, and only in narrow streets and lanes and alleys can you
+find it. I am, for instance, a native of Paris, and I know that in the
+beautiful town every day many die of hunger, if not in the Rue de la
+Paix and on the Boulevard des Italiens."
+
+"Alas," sobbed Clary; "if I could help them!"
+
+"And why should it be impossible?" said Madame Caraman, in an amiable
+voice; "misery is easily found--one must only look for it."
+
+"Madame Caraman, I should like to call you Mamma Caraman; will you allow
+me?"
+
+"With pleasure, dear child."
+
+"Well, then, Mamma Caraman, I am getting tired of Nice."
+
+"I am also tired of it," nodded the companion.
+
+"How should you like to go to Marseilles?"
+
+"With pleasure, my dear child."
+
+"And, Mamma Caraman, I should like to do the journey on horseback,"
+added Clary, in a hesitating voice.
+
+"Still better, dear child--when we reach Marseilles you will be sound in
+health."
+
+Eight days later we find Clary and her companion settled down in
+Marseilles. Madame Caraman was in the right--the young patient got round
+gradually now, as she felt a real desire to get better, and whoever saw
+the fresh, blooming girl on horseback thought her rather to be anything
+else than a sufferer from consumption.
+
+In Marseilles Clary got to know misery and sickness in every form and
+shape, and now she began to see the blessing of being wealthy. She gave
+with full hands, and Madame Caraman was proud of her conquests since her
+first journey undertaken under such discouraging circumstances.
+
+Upon a walk in the Meillan alley Clary noticed Mercedes--that beautiful
+pale face, with its dark, deep-set, sorrowful eyes, which attracted the
+young girl's attention in an irresistible manner, and a
+pocket-handkerchief which Mercedes dropped offered her ample and good
+opportunity to enter upon a conversation with the owner.
+
+Mercedes admired the lovely young girl, whose mirth showed nothing of
+the rudeness which, especially to mourners, becomes very disagreeable.
+They often met, and after a few days Clary was quite at home in the
+little house in which Mercedes resided.
+
+Mercedes very soon became acquainted with the past life of the young
+English lady--she assisted Madame Caraman in all her work to give to
+Clary's life, up to now aimless, a fixed object and satisfaction, and it
+stands to reason that the young girl also felt great interest for
+Mercedes. Mercedes was only too happy to find an opportunity to speak
+about Albert--during the ten years he sojourned in Algiers, his letters
+had been the joy of his mother. Albert called himself Joliette--the
+name of Morcerf contained for him, the same as for Mercedes, terrible
+recollections--and soon Clary admired and looked upon Captain Joliette
+as something of a higher being.
+
+Albert's letters, which, up to now, had always regularly reached
+Marseilles, now remained away altogether, and a time of indescribable
+anguish commenced for Mercedes--the arrival of the Jackal Coucou only
+increased her troubles, for the news which he brought was
+unsatisfactory, and thus the mother resolved at length to send that call
+for help to Monte-Cristo.
+
+While Mercedes spoke to Clary the sergeant stood at the window, and he
+called out suddenly:
+
+"Just now a beautiful yacht, in full sail, is entering the harbor--ah,
+now I can read the inscription on the vessel; it is the Ice Bird."
+
+"God be blessed," sobbed Mercedes, falling on her knees. "Ah, I was
+aware that he would come!"
+
+"I shall go, dear mother," said Clary, rising, "but mind, if anything of
+importance happens, I hope I shall also know of it?"
+
+"At once," nodded Mercedes, "Monsieur Coucou, pray accompany
+Mademoiselle Clary, and return immediately in case you are wanted."
+
+The sergeant nodded and both went away.
+
+Soon after a carriage stopped before the door. A man got out and
+hastened up the narrow staircase.
+
+"Mercedes," he called aloud, with faltering voice; it resounded upon
+him--"Edmond, Edmond!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+A MOTHER
+
+
+For a moment Mercedes and the count stood motionless opposite each
+other; then Monte-Cristo extended his hand to the sobbing woman, and in
+a faltering voice he begged:
+
+"Mercedes--to-day I know that I have sinned--I have punished harder than
+I had a right to do, and I can only supplicate you to forgive me. Take
+my life and I shall not murmur. I thought to fulfil my duty, and have
+executed revenge!"
+
+"No, Edmond--do not talk like this!" said Mercedes, softly; "the lot
+which met me I deserved even more than--Broken faithfulness must always
+revenge itself bitterly. The misfortune which nowadays pulls me down has
+nothing to do with the past, and therefore I ask your help."
+
+"Then speak, Mercedes--I hear," replied Monte-Cristo, simply.
+
+"Edmond," began Mercedes, without further apologies, "you know what was
+the intention of my son, for whom I was attached to life when everything
+around was destroyed. Alas! Albert is the favorite of my heart; do not
+think me foolish, if I tell you he was worthy of you! His letters,
+which, breathe of his uninterrupted, faithful filial love, have kept me
+alive ten long, lonesome and weary years; when I read his tender words,
+when he embraced me, all my hopes centred in the moment when we should
+meet again! But suddenly all letters ceased to arrive. I waited many a
+long day, weeks, months, but all in vain--no news came.
+
+"I anxiously read all papers--I inquired and hoped, but I could bring
+nothing to light. At length I resolved to write to Paris to the Minister
+of War--I received no answer, and my despair increased daily.
+
+"Then an accident led Monsieur Beauchamp to Marseilles--I took heart to
+look for him, and acquainted him with my sorrow. He received me very
+kindly, listened to me, and promised to exert himself to obtain some
+information for me. After eight days I received the sad news--"
+
+"Then Albert is dead?" said the count, sorrowfully.
+
+"Oh, God, no--say not so--he cannot, he dare not be dead!" sobbed
+Mercedes. "The news which Beauchamp acquainted me with was disheartening
+enough. My poor son, captain in the first Zouave regiment, or the
+so-called Jackals, about three months ago, after an expedition against
+the Kabyles, disappeared; they fear the wild horde has taken him away!"
+
+Monte-Cristo reflected a moment and then inquired: "Did it happen before
+or after the submission of Abd-el-Kader?"
+
+"After, as much as I can tell. Monsieur Beauchamp, however, was not
+satisfied with the uncertain reports--he informed me that a Zouave from
+Albert's regiment was on furlough in Paris, and he would not fail to
+have the Zouave sent to Marseilles to inform me of all, in a more
+particular way."
+
+"And has this Zouave arrived?" inquired Monte-Cristo, animatedly.
+
+"Yes, a few days since."
+
+"And what does he say?"
+
+"He maintains Albert is still alive."
+
+"Then we may yet hope for the best, Mercedes," said Monte-Cristo,
+consolingly. "God owes you a recompense, and you will see your son
+again!"
+
+"If you say so, I believe it," replied Mercedes sincerely.
+
+"May I also speak with the Zouave?"
+
+"Certainly--he is downstairs now."
+
+"Then let him come up; I should like to ask him a few questions."
+
+Mercedes called the sergeant; Monte-Cristo looked at her pitifully and
+then whispered:
+
+"Mercedes--here this has reference to my life--you have known me from
+childhood--have I ever broken my word?"
+
+"Oh, no--only I am guilty of it!"
+
+"I did not wish to hear of that--you have my oath, and with the help of
+God I shall keep the same!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+THE RING
+
+
+Cap in hand, the Zouave appeared, and, throwing an inquisitive glance at
+the count, he said politely:
+
+"What is your pleasure, madame?"
+
+"Dear friend," was the kind reply of Monte-Cristo, "madame has called
+you, because I intend to ask you a few questions; I know you love your
+captain, and therefore--"
+
+"Well, I do love him," replied Coucou, enthusiastically. "I am ready to
+be cut in pieces for him."
+
+"With that we need not make any haste," said Monte-Cristo, smiling. "You
+believe then that Captain Joliette is still alive?"
+
+"Yes, colonel."
+
+"I am no colonel," said the count.
+
+"Then I must say general?"
+
+"That is unnecessary--I am in no way a soldier."
+
+"But that is hardly possible," cried Coucou, disappointed; "such a nice
+brave gentleman, and not a soldier?"
+
+"I cannot help you; but now tell me plainly whether you can render me
+any assistance in finding the captain?"
+
+"A thousand times, marshal, or as otherwise your title may be. You see,
+sir, I am a man of few words, but if you demand my heart's blood, it is
+at your service--the Jackal Coucou always keeps his word."
+
+Monte-Cristo smiled--the man suited him.
+
+"Sit down here next to me," he said, in a friendly manner, "and tell me
+all you know."
+
+"To seat myself--no, that would be disrespectful; I shall remain
+standing; and now question me."
+
+"Just as you like. Since when has the captain disappeared, and what do
+you know concerning him?"
+
+"Accurately I cannot point out the time. On the last day of December,
+Abd-el-Kader, of whom so much is said, and who, I must here remark, much
+resembles you--"
+
+"Quite a compliment," smilingly said the count, bowing.
+
+"For Abd-el-Kader," interrupted Coucou, promptly. "Well, then, after
+Abd-el-Kader laid down his arms, subdued by Generals Lamoriciere and
+Cavaignac, we thought the war was ended; but God forbid, it had
+commenced in earnest. In confidence, sir, I believe in Algiers you will
+never hear of its end. That the Jackals at the affair played their game
+well is too well known; it was they who checked Abd-el-Kader.
+
+"Well, on one occasion, we undertook a trifling skirmish, in order to
+send out some scouts; we had about twenty men, and Captain Joliette led
+us. 'Comrades,' he said, 'before we start, let us finally take care that
+the cursed Africans leave us at peace in future!' and then he called my
+name--you must know he had always a little order for me to execute--"
+
+"I conclude therefrom, that you found an opportunity to render him a
+service once," interrupted the count, in a friendly manner.
+
+"H'm--the marshal knows his people," nodded the sergeant, proudly; "it
+was, in fact, but a trifle--a brown devil brandished his yataghan at the
+captain, and I cut off his hand to prevent the execution of his plan.
+Now, the captain also called:
+
+"'Sergeant Coucou!'
+
+"'Here,' said I.
+
+"'Coucou,' he commenced, quietly, 'one never knows how these skirmishes
+may end, and for the sake of life and death listen to me. Behold--I have
+yet a mother--she lives in Marseilles, in the Allee de Meillan, and is
+called Madame Joliette. In case something should befall me, demand a
+furlough, go to France and deliver this ring to my mother.'"
+
+"A ring?" said Monte-Cristo, wonderfully moved, while he cast a hasty
+glance at Mercedes.
+
+In a gloomy manner, but without saying a single word, Mercedes took a
+simple-looking silver ring from her finger, and handed it to the count,
+who looked at the simple precious thing with a tear in his eye--it was
+the wedding-ring which Edmond Dantes once presented to the Catalan,
+Mercedes.
+
+"Pardon, Edmond," stammered the poor mother, with trembling voice, "I
+gave Albert the ring as a talisman--it was to bring him back!"
+
+"I would not take the ring," continued Coucou. "I knew that nobody would
+so easily kill the captain, and if misfortune should come to pass, it
+may, just the same, fall on me as well. But my refusing it was in vain,
+and so I consented to it. Discipline goes above all! We started and soon
+reached the defile; not a Bedouin could be discovered, and only a few
+distant barren rocks looked rather suspicious. Night set in: we thought
+of preparing our supper, but suddenly a curious noise could be heard,
+and the next moment we were surrounded by a swarm of Bedouins. A
+desperate combat began--the shots, following in quick succession, were
+enough to rouse the dead; but continually fresh combatants appeared, and
+we had trouble enough to fight for our lives. Upon a bare rock I
+suddenly espied a Bedouin, who had the barrel of his musket--God knows
+from whom he had stolen it--just pointed at the captain. I made a leap,
+reached the rock, and took hold of the brown devil, but at that very
+moment both of us tumbled down more than twenty feet, and I became
+senseless."
+
+"But the captain?" asked the count.
+
+"Only a little patience, you will know all I know. When I awoke again,
+it was just the dawn of day--how it happened that I did not break my
+neck is to me even now inexplicable. I looked about for my comrades;
+they ought to have been in the neighborhood. I called out--everything
+remained quiet; and thus I rose with painful limbs and reached the place
+where we had encamped. Here a terrible sight met me; before me lay all
+my comrades, bleeding and mutilated--they had all been beheaded! Even to
+this day I feel the terrible horror which overcame me at this sight--a
+dark pool of blood surrounded the rigid bodies, and if I were to live to
+see a hundred years, never shall I forget the awful spectacle.
+
+"After a while I began to look about among the various bodies, and
+suddenly, in all my distress, I rejoiced aloud--the captain was not
+among the slain. Had the Bedouins carried him away? I called out. And
+only the hoarse cry of the hyena, which waited solely for my departure
+to fall upon the corpses, was the answer I received. I could not attempt
+to bury my comrades, for the ground was rocky and I possessed no tools
+for that purpose. I spoke a short prayer for the slain, supplied myself
+from their knapsacks with plentiful ammunition, and got back to the camp
+as well as I could.
+
+"When I related there what had happened, nobody at first would believe
+me--they reproached me with cowardice and scolded me for having left my
+comrades! I became vexed; I demanded a detachment to accompany me and
+returned to the scene of horror. There a still more horrible sight met
+me--the animals of the desert had already eaten the corpses, and only
+bloody bones and portions of uniforms indicated the spot where the
+surprise had taken place. Now, of course, they all were ready to believe
+me; we sent out scouts to all sides in order to obtain traces of the
+captain. Large amounts were offered to Arabian deserters if they would
+deliver up their prisoners, but to no purpose; the earth seemingly must
+have swallowed up our captain. Only once I thought I had found some
+trace of him: a marabout--one of those brawny devils who are regarded as
+sorcerers by their countrymen--came to our camp to beg, or as we
+supposed as a spy. An officer inquired of the man in my presence about
+Captain Joliette, but he pretended to know nothing, saying he had never
+heard the name, yet his eyes betrayed his treachery--oh, these Kabyles
+are all desperate fellows, scoundrels of the worst description."
+
+"Did you communicate your opinion to the officer?" inquired the count.
+
+"Certainly; he at first laughed at me, and when he at last resolved upon
+the man being called a second time, he had already disappeared."
+
+"What was the name of the marabout?"
+
+"If I recollect aright it was Elak Achel, or something like it."
+
+"Can you describe his appearance--had he bony cheeks, large, projecting
+ears, and a long, pointed beard?"
+
+"Truly, I could almost believe the marshal must have seen the scamp,"
+said Coucou, quite astonished.
+
+"Ah, no, I only guessed at it. I know some races in the desert which
+correspond to the description you give. But another question: does it
+sound perhaps like Radjel el Achem?"
+
+"Sapristi, that was the name! And now as we know his name, we will soon
+find him again," said Coucou, quite delighted.
+
+Mercedes rose, encouraged by fresh hopes, but Monte-Cristo put his hand
+softly upon her arm and said:
+
+"Mercedes, beware of being deceived. The words I have just spoken
+signify nothing--nothing but 'great sorcerer,' and are the general
+appellation of the people who operate in the south of the Algeric
+Sahara."
+
+The words which Monte-Cristo quietly spoke did not fail to take effect
+upon Mercedes. She dropped her hands and stared sorrowfully through the
+window.
+
+"Is that all you know?"--the count turned toward the Zouave.
+
+"Unfortunately, no more," said Coucou. At the same time, however, being
+noticed by Mercedes, he made a sign and placed his finger upon the lips.
+
+"In order to fulfil my promise," continued the Zouave, "I took a
+furlough and came to France. I had scarcely arrived in Paris when I was
+ordered to this place. I brought Madame Joliette the ring, and told her
+what I had experienced. Alas! if I could only find our captain again;
+but, I am afraid, it is almost impossible."
+
+"Impossible!" called out Mercedes, throwing a supplicating look at the
+count.
+
+"Sergeant Coucou," said Monte-Cristo, with earnest mien, "a man should
+never speak of impossibilities. I have often accomplished things which
+others thought impossible."
+
+"Yes, if you, as our commander, would take the matter in hand, that
+would be quite a different thing," thought the Zouave, confidently.
+
+"Well then, I shall do my best."
+
+"Hurrah!--is it not so, I'm allowed to call you commander?"
+
+"But I have already told you--"
+
+"Let me only say so, and if you wish to oblige me, call me simply
+Coucou, and all will be well."
+
+"I shall consider the matter. Now go down and wait for me in the street,
+I shall be there almost immediately."
+
+"At your service, commander," said the Zouave, putting his hand to his
+cap, whereupon he left.
+
+"Well?" inquired Mercedes, when alone with the count.
+
+"Mercedes," said Monte-Cristo, with sincerity, "do not despair. All my
+energy shall be devoted toward finding your son, and perhaps God will be
+merciful."
+
+"I will believe it and not give way to despair."
+
+"Then farewell, Mercedes! We will soon meet again. Now I am ready to
+look for Beauchamp, who, as I have heard, is again in Marseilles."
+
+A knock interrupted the count--the door was quietly opened and a clear
+voice inquired:
+
+"Are you alone, dear mother?"
+
+Receiving a wink from the count, Mercedes said:
+
+"Yes, Clary, you may enter."
+
+The young English lady skipped over the threshold, but she stood still
+and blushed as soon as she saw the stranger.
+
+"My dear little friend," said Mercedes, presenting the girl, "keeps me
+company in my desolation, and thus helps me to pass away many a weary
+hour."
+
+The count bowed respectfully, whereupon he extended his hand to Mercedes
+and went away.
+
+"Who is the gentleman?" asked Clary, as soon as the door closed behind
+Monte-Cristo.
+
+"The Count of Monte-Cristo," said Mercedes.
+
+"Was he the person whom you expected?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Oh, then be of good cheer," said Clary, putting her tiny hand upon her
+heaving breast; "something tells me that this man is almighty! Hope,
+Mother Mercedes--hope!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+"SEARCH FOR THE WIFE!"
+
+
+The count found the Zouave outside the house in animated conversation
+with Madame Caraman. Coucou had a special predilection for the "female
+sex," and the widow of the sergeant saw in every blue-coat a comrade of
+her "blessed one."
+
+"How do you do, madame? Surely you are the companion of the beautiful
+little one up-stairs?" and he pointed at the house.
+
+Madame Caraman nodded.
+
+"Well, the little one is well cared for; I often wished that as much had
+been done for my education," continued the Zouave obligingly. The
+companion laughed and soon a lively conversation commenced. Both were
+very fond of chatting together, and when the count made his appearance,
+the Zouave grew timid and muttered:
+
+"Dear me, the commander."
+
+Madame Caraman responded respectfully to the Count of Monte-Cristo's
+kind salute; the count walked along the street and hailed a passer-by.
+Immediately a beautiful carriage with two splendid horses approached,
+and after the count had ordered Ali, who sat in front, "to drive around
+the town," he and Coucou got inside, where began the conversation in a
+friendly manner.
+
+"So--now tell me all you know."
+
+"Immediately, commander, but allow me in the meantime to remark that I
+never have ridden in such a splendid carriage."
+
+"One must try all things," replied the count laughing; "if I have
+understood you rightly before it is concerning a report which has come
+to the knowledge of Madame Joliette."
+
+"Quite right, commander. Do you see, in some things the ladies are very
+distrustful--"
+
+"The long preface makes me conclude that it is concerning a woman,"
+interrupted the count.
+
+"Not exactly a woman, she was but a child not more than fifteen years at
+the utmost."
+
+"And this child was Captain Joliette's sweetheart?"
+
+"Alas, God forbid--no, that was not the case."
+
+"Well make it short and tell the story."
+
+"At once, sir," began the Zouave bowing. "One evening we had pursued a
+troop of Bedouins, and when night set in we were too far away from camp
+to reach it. We lay down in a hollow; the terrible howling of panthers
+and hyenas was the song to put us to sleep. Toward two o'clock in the
+morning I awoke suddenly--the moon had risen and I saw a large dark body
+close to the hollow pass by rapidly. I soon got my gun ready and fired.
+The sound woke the captain up and he inquired the reason. Ere I had time
+to answer, I heard a cry of anguish proceeding from above the hollow--in
+two leaps the captain reached the top of the rock and I followed him.
+The sight which presented itself was terrible. On the ground lay a white
+figure and close by was an enormous panther. The yellow glowing eyes of
+the animal and its wide-open blood-red jaws terrified me--the captain
+held his poniard in the right hand and hit at all sides. I intended to
+fire at the beast, but man and beast rolled over and over again and I
+was afraid that I might hit the captain. Now the iron grasp of the
+captain had hold of the panther's neck--the animal howled fearfully, and
+the next moment the weapon of the man slit the body of the beast open.
+The panther turned over, a streak of blood drenching the ground; the
+captain, breathing heavily, sank down quite exhausted. I hastened to his
+assistance; the panther's paw had torn his breast and the wound caused
+him a great deal of pain, but when I tried to dress it he refused and
+said firmly:
+
+"Look after the little one, Coucou, don't mind me."
+
+I bent over the white figure; it was a beautiful girl, whose pale,
+wax-like face seemed to have become motionless from fright. Long dark
+hair hung over her tender cheeks, and on her white shoulder the paw of
+the panther had made a large open wound, from which the blood was
+flowing.
+
+In the meantime our comrades had hastened to the spot: with their help
+the captain rose and his wound was washed and dressed. I did all I could
+to revive the child, but was unsuccessful. As soon as the captain could
+move again, he ceased thinking of himself, but continually aided me in
+my endeavor; bending over the wounded one, he whispered:
+
+"'I hope she is not dead.'"
+
+"He is not the son of his father, but of his mother," muttered
+Monte-Cristo to himself, but in a louder tone he then said:
+
+"Who was the girl?"
+
+"I cannot answer who she was," replied the Zouave; "she could scarcely
+be persuaded to speak, and only after many cross-questions put to her we
+found out that she belonged to one of the tribes in the Sahara which we
+continually pursued. Her people ill-treated her, and she resolved to run
+away. While seated among the shrubs to rest herself, all at once she
+heard the growling of the animal close to her.
+
+"What further happened," continued the Zouave, "I cannot tell; her wound
+was, thank God! not dangerous, and we took the poor child with us to the
+camp. Our camp was at that time at Laghouat, a small oasis, the springs
+of which were considered to possess medicinal properties, and the
+captain, together with the little one, were removed thither in sedans.
+Heavens! both were surprisingly beautiful--even unto this day I see this
+poor young child slowly lift her large dark lashes, and open her dark
+almond-shaped eyes. And the captain--oh, commander, his equal cannot
+easily be met with--he was in every respect quite different from his
+comrades! With him there were no love affairs, no debts; he never
+thought about himself, and in battle he was always at the head--a very
+pearl of an officer!"
+
+A strange feeling came over the count as he listened to the praiseworthy
+words of the Zouave. Had Albert been his son he could not have been more
+proud of him. Monte-Cristo was not a man of ordinary nature, otherwise
+he would have shown bitter hatred toward the son of Fernand Mandego; but
+it appeared to him that the good qualities of the young man atoned for
+the faults of the father.
+
+"What was the name of the girl?" he inquired afterward.
+
+"Medje, commander; as soon as she was able to speak the captain inquired
+after her name. But when he observed that she, perhaps, might wish to
+return to her tribe, she sobbed bitterly, and tried to show in every
+respect how much she dreaded it. Who she really was we could never make
+out. In that cursed country it is quite different than with us. As soon
+as they can muster together ten people they imagine that they are a
+nation, and in need of a sultan. From some expressions of Medje we could
+form the idea that she was the daughter of such a sultan. The captain
+placed his hand over her, and I was present when he said to her:
+
+"'Medje, you do not seem to have a longing for your father; if you wish
+to remain with us I will take you under my protection, and I will care
+for you as if you were my own daughter.'"
+
+"And what answer did Medje give to that?" inquired the count, eagerly.
+
+"Oh, she kissed his hands, she cried for joy, and was really treated
+well by him. He acted toward her as though she were a little queen. She
+had her servants, and when the captain went out skirmishing he always
+reminded the comrades to take care of her, who accordingly were ready
+and willing to put their hands under her feet!"
+
+"What became of her afterward?"
+
+"Yes, that is the great point at issue. When the last expedition, from
+which the captain was not to return, was planned, Medje threw herself
+around the neck of her protector, and adjured him to remain back. The
+captain laughed at her. She had no idea what discipline signified, and,
+sobbing, she repeated constantly:
+
+"'Not go away, little papa--not going!'
+
+"Ah, what would not I have given afterward had we taken her advice! When
+I alone returned from this unfortunate expedition, I was informed that
+Medje had disappeared the same night, almost at the same hour."
+
+"Then the child was a spy!" exclaimed the count, displeased. "She knew
+about the expedition, and informed her people accordingly."
+
+"At first I was of the same opinion, but later I changed it, because I
+found out that already previous to the expedition suspicious forms were
+swarming about our tents. Medje had accidentally seen one of these men,
+and, shrieking terribly, she ran away."
+
+"Why did she not give warning to the captain?"
+
+"Who could fathom that? Sure it was that a bold Bedouin, whose name was
+quite sufficient to set the whole camp in commotion, and who had been
+seen in the neighborhood, and--"
+
+"What was the name of this Bedouin?" inquired Monte-Cristo, eagerly.
+
+"Mohammed ben Abdallah."
+
+"He? Are you not mistaken?" the count inquired, rather excitedly.
+
+"Oh, no, I have heard the name often enough."
+
+"And you do not know who this man really was?"
+
+"No--probably also a marabout, a kind of juggler or sorcerer."
+
+"Did you acquaint your superiors of this sorcerer?" asked the count
+after a while.
+
+"No," replied Coucou, rather hesitatingly.
+
+"Then I am surprised that you acquaint me of this," said Monte-Cristo,
+while he threw a penetrating glance at the Zouave.
+
+Coucou was silent--he could not explain even to himself wherein lay the
+great influence Monte-Cristo had over him.
+
+"You saw Medje constantly," the count took up the topic once more; "have
+you never noticed anything striking about her?"
+
+Almost frightened, Coucou looked at the count.
+
+"Yes," said he, then, hesitating; "upon her two cheeks and on her
+forehead one could perceive a small red cross; it was tattooed by a
+skilful hand, and seemed to become her very well."
+
+Monte-Cristo began to tremble.
+
+"Do you know," he then said, "that Mohammed ben Abdallah is the most
+cruel enemy of France, and that he has taken an oath to take vengeance
+for Abd-el-Kader? If the captain has fallen into his hands then we shall
+never see him again, unless by a miracle."
+
+"Commander, if you take the matter in hand, then a miracle will happen,"
+said Coucou, confidently.
+
+"We hope so--and now I shall ride to the hotel, and this evening at ten
+o'clock you may there inquire for me," said the count, quite loud; but
+he gently whispered: "Mercedes, I must save your son!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+DEPEND ONLY ON YOURSELF
+
+
+Arrived at the Hotel de l'Univers, the count sent his card to Monsieur
+Beauchamp, and as the answer of the journalist was that the count's
+visit would be very agreeable to him, he went at once to Monsieur
+Beauchamp.
+
+"Welcome in Marseilles, count," was the salute he received from the
+Parisian. "I am glad to see you again."
+
+"I am also glad," returned the count, taking the proffered hand and
+shaking it heartily. "Well, what news in the political world?"
+
+"Pah! let us not speak about that. On the 24th of February, as you are
+aware of, the Republic was proclaimed, and at first I really believed we
+had made an excellent bargain; but the joy was only of short duration.
+The people are but a makeshift to the leaders; they are asked to make
+sacrifices, yet not for themselves, but for others, and in the end--No,
+I had better drop this topic, for I really get vexed for nothing at all,
+and I only came here in order to forget! Tell me, rather, how I can
+serve you; and, if I am not mistaken, you take an interest in Madame de
+Morcerf?"
+
+"Yes; but how do you come to know all this?"
+
+"Oh--I know you, dear count. Wherever there is any grief to alleviate, a
+heroic act to accomplish, the Count of Monte-Cristo is always on the
+spot."
+
+"You have a good opinion of me," said the count, deprecatingly; "and
+then, who was it that took care that the Zouave Coucou was sent here in
+order to console the poor mother?"
+
+"Pah, that was only Christian duty; and besides, Captain Joliette bears
+among his superiors an excellent name. He was always the first in the
+midst of the enemy's fire, and his modesty, in spite of his bravery, has
+become proverbial among his comrades."
+
+"And his disappearance?"
+
+"For myself and all others this disappearance is really a puzzle. The
+Arabs seldom take prisoners, and I greatly fear that he has been dragged
+into the desert and killed."
+
+"Do you, perhaps, know of what race the Bedouins were who attacked the
+expedition?" inquired Monte-Cristo, considering.
+
+"If I am not mistaken, they were Yavaregs."
+
+"Tell me what you think of the capture of Abd-el-Kader. Are you now of
+opinion that Algiers will be pacified?"
+
+"Oh, no; either early or late there will probably be found another
+leader who, under pretence of avenging Abd-el-Kader, will renew the
+combat, for the Bedouins never submit."
+
+"Your views tally exactly with mine, and I may almost say, to my sorrow,
+you are in the right. The leader whose appearance you expect is already
+announced!"
+
+"You joke--should I be such a good prophet? But what is the reason that
+the ministry knows nothing of his existence?"
+
+"Oh, a ministry fares in this respect the same as the husband of a
+frivolous woman: all others know more of what concerns him most than he
+himself."
+
+"You may be right. What is the name of the new Bedouin leader?"
+
+"Mohammed ben Abdallah."
+
+"This name is quite strange to me. Are you not, perhaps, mistaken?"
+
+"No," replied Monte-Cristo, coolly, "I know what I am speaking about.
+The man whose name I mentioned has sworn to accept the bloody heirloom
+of Abd-el-Kader and before four weeks have elapsed the revolutionary
+flag will again wave throughout all parts of the desert."
+
+"Well, I shall not doubt any further; but tell me, in what connection
+does the soon-expected rising of the Kabyles stand with the
+disappearance of Albert?"
+
+"Who is able to tell, Monsieur Beauchamp? But now I come to the chief
+point of my visit. You have influence in Paris?"
+
+"Oh, dear count, had you only something to ask!"
+
+"Perhaps I have. I should like to obtain an indefinite furlough for the
+Zouave Coucou."
+
+"That shall be granted to you, you may rest assured."
+
+"Thanks, more I do not want."
+
+"But it is hardly worth while your applying to one who am in power for
+the moment, a support of the Republic, in order to obtain such a
+bagatelle. Consider, you may perhaps think of something else."
+
+"Yes, and have almost forgotten it," said the count smiling, while he
+tore a leaf from his pocketbook and quickly wrote a few words.
+
+"So," turning to Beauchamp, "permit me to hand you a small contribution
+for the poor of Paris--"
+
+"Dear count," interrupted the journalist, quite moved, "if you consider
+a million francs a small contribution, then I should like to see your
+large ones."
+
+"My dear friend," said the count, almost sorrowfully, "what is a million
+to me with my great wealth? The sun of a poor person overweighs my gift
+a thousandfold."
+
+"Are you indeed so very rich?"
+
+"So rich that in this respect I envy those who have yet anything to wish
+for."
+
+"Well, who knows whether you may not one day find somebody richer than
+you. In the meantime I thank you in the name of our working-women, for
+while the men in the service of the Republic sacrifice their time the
+families at home are obliged to suffer."
+
+"Distribute this money according as you think proper, and if you wish to
+favor me do not bestow any of it toward public collections. I dislike
+this ostentatious mode of benevolence."
+
+"I am of the same opinion. But now tell me how will you be able to
+console Madame de Morcerf?"
+
+"First step here to the window, Monsieur Beauchamp; do you see the yacht
+which has her steam up?"
+
+"Yes. What is the matter with that fine ship?"
+
+"It will depart for foreign parts to-morrow morning."
+
+"And what is her destination?"
+
+"Algiers."
+
+"Ah, now I understand--you are sending emissaries for the discovery of
+poor Albert."
+
+Monte-Cristo smiled and then said:
+
+"Monsieur Beauchamp, if you desired to accomplish a certain thing to
+your satisfaction, how would you go to work?"
+
+"Well, that is very simple, because I should attend to it myself."
+
+"Then you will know whom I am sending to Algiers to find Captain
+Joliette."
+
+"Have I understood you right? You are ready to venture into the desert?
+Count, you have undertaken a difficult task, and although I do not doubt
+your courage nor energy, I must nevertheless say that your resolution is
+a very bold one. In Algiers it is not only necessary to combat with men
+who hardly deserve the appellation, but also all the dangers of nature
+are there arrayed in battle against you! The simoom, the fatal breath of
+the desert, has put many a one there under the sand, and bleached bones
+caution the wanderer not to set his step on the deceptive ground of the
+Sahara!"
+
+"Monsieur Beauchamp," replied the count earnestly, "if you were to know
+what I have already gone through you would not discourage me from doing
+my duty. What is that to the combat with beasts in human shape which I
+have stood victoriously? No, let me go and do my duty; I am not afraid
+of the Sahara."
+
+"But the countess and her son?"
+
+A shadow fell across Monte-Cristo's face, but his voice sounded clear
+and steady when he replied:
+
+"Visit me this evening, and you shall have my answer."
+
+"With pleasure. Where do you live? Here in some hotel?"
+
+"Oh, no," said Monte-Cristo, smiling; "since a law-court has condemned
+me to pay a heavy fine because I had no domicile in France, I have come
+to a different conclusion."
+
+"How is that?"
+
+"Well, I possess now in every large town in France a house, and in Paris
+and Lyons and other chief towns a palace."
+
+"Excellent--it is only a pity that this expedient is not at everybody's
+command. But when did this fine in money take effect? It was not I
+suppose in the lawsuits you had against Andrea Cavalcanti, alias
+Benedetto? Yes? But do you know what I have heard? Benedetto is said to
+have escaped from Toulon. Take care of him; if there is a tiger in human
+shape, it is surely Benedetto!"
+
+"I know it, Monsieur Beauchamp," replied the count, reluctantly;
+"Benedetto is the embodiment of evil principles--Satan in person! But
+one day I shall stretch out my hand and order him to stop--even if I
+have to go to the corners of the world to find him, he will not escape
+me."
+
+"To that I respond amen. As to the Jackal Coucou, take him quietly with
+you. I shall take care to get him an indefinite furlough--he will render
+you good service, in the hell of Algiers which he knows as well as his
+pocket. But something struck me just now: accident, which often plays
+wonderful tricks, might bring you in contact with one of our co-workers,
+who, Heaven knows, roves about perhaps in Timbuctoo or even Zanzibar;
+he sent me once a few good sketches about Abd-el-Kader, and then became
+an adventurer somewhere else."
+
+"And this gentleman's name?"
+
+"Gratillet."
+
+Monte-Cristo wrote the name in his pocketbook and then said:
+
+"If I should happen to find Gratillet, I shall not forget your
+recommendation."
+
+"Thanks beforehand. Gratillet is a curious fellow, and I shall not feel
+surprised if you meet him in peaceful transactions with a panther. He is
+not afraid of any kind of devil."
+
+"Then he is the man for me."
+
+"And if you can prevent his entering upon further follies, you will, no
+doubt, do it? I should like to establish a large journal, and Gratillet
+is in this case indispensable to me."
+
+"I shall do my utmost; although--the Sahara is great."
+
+"But God is greater. Then I shall be with you this evening. Where can I
+find you?"
+
+"Only inquire for the Palace Monte-Cristo, and now adieu till later. Who
+knows whether you will not now accompany me to Algeria!"
+
+"Oh, I should certainly not feel indisposed, but my duties chain me to
+France; the battles which are still to be fought here require my
+presence."
+
+The gentlemen separated, and while the count ordered the porter to show
+the Zouave, should he inquire for him, to the palace of Monte-Cristo,
+Beauchamp muttered: "If there are any magicians then I have seen one
+to-day!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+THE SACRIFICE
+
+
+Not far from the harbor, with a beautiful view of the sea, the Villa
+Monte-Cristo lay. It was like all dwellings of the count, rich and
+elegantly furnished, and a splendid terrace with exotic plants could
+readily induce the inhabitants to believe they were really in a tropical
+region. Parrots of many colors swung on the branches of
+tamarind-trees--the sycamore rustled, and leafy bananas and beautiful
+palm-trees reflected their branches in the blue waters of the
+Mediterranean sea.
+
+On the evening of the day Monte-Cristo arrived in Marseilles, the count
+sat with Haydee on the terrace. Both seemed delighted with the splendid
+panorama before them, and from time to time the count rose to look after
+Spero, who, bending over a book, sat reading in the adjacent
+conservatory. Now, Monte-Cristo remained with Haydee, who in her usual
+way was leaning back in an ottoman, and putting his arm around the young
+woman's neck, he whispered:
+
+"Haydee, look at me!"
+
+The shining dark eyes which beamed like stars gazed steadfastly upon the
+noble face of her husband, and the small white hand glided softly into
+his.
+
+"Haydee," said Monte-Cristo, earnestly, "do you believe in me?"
+
+Haydee raised herself half sorrowfully.
+
+"Do I believe in you?" she repeated, rather vexed; "are you not my
+master, my god? do we ask the slave if he believes in his employer?"
+
+"Haydee, I am not your employer, and you are not my slave."
+
+"You are my husband, my all! Oh, could you read in my soul, you would
+not question me in this manner. Listen. I was present when my father was
+betrayed and murdered--they tore me from his corpse and dragged me to
+the slave market, where grief and death awaited me."
+
+Haydee continued: "Then you appeared--like a god you stepped before my
+tearful eyes, and from that moment I lived for you only in the world!
+You purchased me and I became yours--yours in body and soul, and daily I
+bless the hour when first I saw you!"
+
+Haydee drew her husband's hand to her lips, and then in a low tone
+continued:
+
+"All my thoughts and contemplations since then were centred in you--at
+that time, being afraid you would remove me from you, I was on the point
+of taking my own life!"
+
+"Haydee, what are you talking about?" muttered Monte-Cristo, confused.
+
+"In truth--do not try to deceive me--you intended to give me in marriage
+and bestow my hand on somebody else!"
+
+"Who knows whether it would not have proved fortunate for you?"
+whispered the count sorrowfully.
+
+"Oh, Edmond, you break my heart with such words! How could I, separated
+from you, be happy? I live, I breathe for you only, I honor you not only
+as my husband, but as the greatest, noblest man!"
+
+"Haydee, you make me blush--I am weak and sinful the same as others!"
+
+"No, oh, no! If you, as a chastening angel, caused the guilty to
+vindicate themselves, and recompensed what is good; you seemed to me
+almost god-like. You raised me to be your wife; to you I am indebted for
+the greatest happiness of a woman, the happiness of possessing a darling
+child, and Spero is the more dear to me as he promises to be your very
+image."
+
+Monte-Cristo threw a timid glance at Spero, who was still diligently
+reading by his lamp, and then cordially said:
+
+"Haydee, then you never regretted having bestowed your hand on me?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"I have never caused you any pain?"
+
+"None--I am the happiest of women."
+
+"And if circumstances occurred which would compel me to give you pain?"
+
+"Then I would submit to your intelligence and not complain."
+
+"Also if I were to destroy your happiness forever?"
+
+"Even then--I would live in the past and be rich."
+
+"Then listen to me, Haydee--we must separate."
+
+"Separate?" repeated Haydee, leaping up terrified and her eyes filling
+with tears.
+
+"Yes--for some time--a few months."
+
+"Thy will be done," uttered Haydee sighing; "I know that a sacred duty
+calls you away, and God will strengthen me to bear the trial!"
+
+"Thanks, Haydee, for this word--it will accompany me when I am away from
+you!"
+
+"And to what place does your duty call you?"
+
+"To Algiers--in the desert! I am obliged to return a son to his mother,
+or even die, if circumstances should become mightier than my will."
+
+"To Algiers? But why am I not allowed to accompany you? You know that
+with you I am not afraid of any danger, and--"
+
+Haydee became suddenly silent. She noticed that her husband's eye,
+remarkably sorrowful, turned from her and Spero, and bending her little
+head she whispered:
+
+"Forgive me. I know that I dare not leave Spero."
+
+Monte-Cristo trembled. The most difficult was to come yet.
+
+"Haydee," he then said, softly, "you cannot accompany me. I shall
+explain to you immediately why it cannot be. Not because you dare not
+leave Spero--"
+
+He stopped short. The expression of terror in Haydee's beautiful eyes
+benumbed him.
+
+"What do you mean by that?" she ejaculated, pale and trembling. "You do
+not intend to rob me of my last consolation, do you?"
+
+"Compose yourself, Haydee. Remember the words which you uttered just
+now. Yes, I leave you, and take Spero with me."
+
+"Spero--to go away with you!" groaned the young wife, with panting
+breast; "oh, my lord and master, that you cannot really mean! You do not
+wish to kill me, and--"
+
+"Haydee, you once told me your life is in my hands."
+
+"That I am still ready to acknowledge. Here is my poniard. Kill me, but
+leave me my child!"
+
+In consternation the young wife pulled a dagger sparkling with diamonds
+out of her waist, and offered it to Monte-Cristo.
+
+"Strike!" she said, with faltering voice. "What good am I in this world
+if you and Spero leave me? Well, why are you hesitating? Take my heart
+out of me, but leave me Spero."
+
+She knelt at Monte-Cristo's feet, and embraced his knee.
+
+Suddenly her eye flashed, and she cried, animated with fresh hopes:
+
+"Indeed, my beloved, I think you only intended to try me. You will not
+crush me; you will be persuaded. Oh, make an end of this torment. Tell
+me that you do not wish my death."
+
+"Haydee," replied Monte-Cristo, with stern forehead, "you know that I
+only fulfil my duty, and instead of assisting me to smooth the path for
+me, you refuse to bear your share of the burden."
+
+"I do not understand you," uttered Haydee.
+
+"I must depart, and Spero has to accompany me; but if I do not consent,
+my dear Haydee, for you to accompany us, it is for the reason that you
+have a mission to fulfil here."
+
+Haydee remained on her knees, but her tears ceased.
+
+Oh, what mastery did not this man exercise over her! The heart was ready
+to break, and yet she could not do otherwise; she was obliged to obey
+him.
+
+"Haydee," remarked Monte-Cristo, quietly, "surely you do not believe
+that I give you pain unless compelled to do so?"
+
+"No, oh, no," sighed the young wife, throwing herself in his arms.
+"Speak, what is to happen?"
+
+"Listen. Behold, ten years ago I brought you to Monte-Cristo, and there
+disclosed to you my past. I explained to you how I punished the guilty,
+and you told me I acted rightly. At that time I vowed to be efficacious
+henceforth wherever I am able to protect the innocent in order to atone
+in case I carried my zeal too far. Among others who suffered much from
+my vengeance were Mercedes and her son. You know the love I bestowed
+upon this Catalonian, and I have not concealed from you that the rage of
+being disappointed in her furnished my arm with weapons against
+Ferdinand Mandego, the murderer of your father.
+
+"I stretched out my hand, the avenging flash of lightning struck, and
+Ferdinand Mandego died--his wife and his son felt the heavy blow in all
+its bitterness, but the further consequences of my deed I had not
+considered! Albert de Morcerf has disappeared, his mother despairs, and
+it is myself who have chased him to death! Haydee, should you like to
+see your husband a hangman?"
+
+"Oh, Edmond, do not speak thus! You did not intend anything wrong; you
+are great and noble!"
+
+"No, I profess to be so, and that is my crime. I made Albert de Morcerf
+suffer for the deed of his father; I clothed myself with divine majesty
+and exercised justice with human hands! Do you now understand, Haydee,
+that I must stake my life, in order to restore to Mercedes her son, that
+I, who punished others, may become reconciled with myself?"
+
+Haydee sighed--she was conquered.
+
+"But," commencing anew with trembling voice, "also I am a mother, and my
+son--"
+
+"Your son, Haydee," interrupted Monte-Cristo, with flaming eyes, "your
+son shall be made worthy of you. The world calls him the son of the
+Count of Monte-Cristo--let him be deserving of this title! Spero is
+noble and courageous; he knows what is good and evil, and his pure heart
+I am proud of. To be just he believes to be his aim--to be just means to
+combat for what is good. In the midst of approaching dangers you never
+saw me trembling; with firm step I faced all danger and death; and Spero
+shall be trained to act in the same manner. The terror of the desert
+shall not make him turn pale--he is to face danger and learn to become
+worthy of the mission his father began, in order to accomplish it.
+'Noble be man, efficacious and good'--may this poetical phrase be his
+shield, and may God guide him in his ways! Answer me, Haydee--is Spero
+to accompany me?"
+
+"Yes," escaped in a low tone, like a breath, from the lips of the young
+wife.
+
+"Thanks, Haydee; now listen as to what your mission consists of. You are
+yourself a mother--and you will know how to console a mother.
+Mercedes--enter!"
+
+The door leading to the terrace opened, and Mercedes with tottering
+steps approached Haydee.
+
+"Haydee," said Monte-Cristo, turning toward his wife, "here is Mercedes,
+whom you have known through me for some time."
+
+Haydee hastened toward Mercedes with extended arms.
+
+"Be welcome, dear friend," she accosted her with a sweet, melodious
+voice.
+
+"Oh, how beautiful you are," muttered Mercedes, looking at the young
+wife admiringly.
+
+"Madame," stammered Haydee, blushing, "I give you my most valuable
+possessions, my husband and my son."
+
+"Your son?" repeated Mercedes, with emotion.
+
+"Spero--come this way," said the count.
+
+The boy sprang toward him--Mercedes looked at him and sobbed bitterly.
+
+"Papa, why is she crying?" whispered Spero.
+
+"Because she is reminded of her son who is in peril of death," replied
+the count significantly.
+
+"In danger of death?" Spero repeated quickly; "oh, papa, why do we not
+hasten to his rescue?"
+
+Monte-Cristo lifted the boy joyfully in his arms and kissed him
+passionately.
+
+"How is it," said Haydee, alike proud and sorrowful, "will you leave me,
+Spero?"
+
+"Oh, mamma--to hasten to aid the unfortunate is our first duty, and you
+yourself have taught me it," replied Spero, embracing the young wife.
+
+Now Bertuccio appeared.
+
+"Count," said he, "here is a soldier who desires to speak to you!"
+
+"Ah--the Zouave Coucou--let him come in!"
+
+The Jackal entered and inquiringly looked around--yes, here it was
+almost as nice as in Africa.
+
+"Coucou," the count commenced, "I have obtained for you an unlimited
+furlough."
+
+Coucou scratched his head.
+
+"Well--is it, perhaps, not acceptable to you?"
+
+"Not exactly that, commander, but what am I to do in the intervening
+time? Africa's sun, the Bedouins, the Jackals, nay even the Hyenas I
+shall miss."
+
+"Well, perhaps we can find a remedy--to-morrow at daybreak we depart for
+Algiers."
+
+"To Algiers--is that true?" joyfully exclaimed Coucou, throwing his cap
+in the air and making a salute, which perhaps was not fashionable, but
+nevertheless significant.
+
+"Excuse me, commander," he stammered, placing his hand on his cap, "I am
+overcome with joy! God be praised, now we shall find my good captain!"
+
+"That I also hope, Coucou."
+
+"But how is it with her ladyship, commander?" asked Coucou doubtfully;
+"is she satisfied?"
+
+"Ask her yourself," said Monte-Cristo.
+
+"Madame," Coucou said turning toward Haydee, "you have a brave husband,
+and as long as Coucou lives nobody shall touch a hair of his head!"
+
+Haydee smiled amid her tears, and the count said:
+
+"Coucou--here is my son, he will accompany us!"
+
+"The little fellow--_Sapristi_--that is grand! the young gentleman is
+the little corporal--do you like the title, my young master?"
+
+Spero, clapping his hand joyfully into the proffered one of the Zouave,
+cried out laughingly:
+
+"I shall do my best to earn my epaulets!"
+
+"Go now, Coucou," said Monte-Cristo, "and do not fail to be at the
+harbor at six o'clock to-morrow morning."
+
+"I will not fail, commander."
+
+The Zouave, placing his hand to his cap, went away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+HOW AND WHERE COUCOU TOOK LEAVE
+
+
+In a beautiful garden, adjacent to a small splendid villa, Clary Ellis
+this evening walked irresolutely to and fro. Madam Caraman, with whom
+the young girl had a lively conversation, had retired, as she stated, to
+work on the veranda, and Clary was reflecting on the conversation.
+
+When the young girl had, in the afternoon, seen the count at Mercedes',
+she had become quite inquisitive to know something more about the
+stranger; the way and manner, however, Mercedes answered her questions
+in nowise satisfied her curiosity.
+
+The count was an old friend of the family, was Mercedes' answer; he had
+known her son, previous to going to Africa, and he had always felt a
+lively interest for him.
+
+Clary had accepted this explanation without putting confidence in it;
+she saw that Mercedes tried to hide something from her and that vexed
+her.
+
+Madame Caraman had the next day called for her _protegee_, and in
+walking home together, she said:
+
+"Do you know, Clary, what I have heard to-day--the Count of Monte Cristo
+is said to be in Marseilles."
+
+"Well, what is there remarkable in that?" Clary calmly asked. "Have you
+not seen him then?"
+
+"Seen him--where?" responded Madame Caraman, stupefied.
+
+"Dear me, he just left as I came to Madame Joliette. You were waiting
+outside the house and could not have failed to see him."
+
+"Oh, Lord! could the gentleman who rode off with the Zouave have been
+the count?" remarked Madame Caraman, quickly.
+
+"No doubt; a slender, pale man, with dark hair."
+
+"That I should not have known it!--where must my eyes have been?"
+lamented Madame Caraman, and in the meantime both had reached the villa,
+and Clary said carelessly:
+
+"Please come with me in the garden, Madame Caraman; I like to hear more
+particulars about this Count of Monte-Cristo."
+
+"But, Clary," said the French lady with astonishment, "have you never
+heard of the count? What do they read yonder in England?"
+
+"Oh, various matters--but what has this to do with the count?"
+
+"More than you think of; you have stocked in your little heart a great
+deal of ballast, and neglected the most necessary things. Do you know
+the author Alexandre Dumas?"
+
+"Only as far as the name is concerned."
+
+"H'm--I thought so; yes--France does not for no purpose possess the
+credit of being at the head of civilization."
+
+"But Mamma Caraman, when are we then to return to our subject, the
+count?" asked Clary, impatiently.
+
+"At once. Alexandre Dumas has written many romances, and one of the
+most interesting is 'The Count of Monte-Cristo.'"
+
+"Mamma Caraman," said Clary, vexed, "how is it that you intend to dish
+up for me such a childish fable?"
+
+"But I am speaking seriously; Dumas has rendered more service for the
+general education of the people than ten ministers. In his 'Three
+Guardsmen,' for instance, one gets thoroughly acquainted with the
+histories of Richelieu, Anna of Austria and Louis XIII., in a very
+interesting manner. In the 'Count of Monte-Cristo' the shortcomings and
+faults of the government after the overthrow of the great emperor are
+unsparingly exposed, and in the same way every work of the great
+novelist offers special merits. The more I think of it the more clearly
+I understand it, that we also have in your friend, Madame Joliette, a
+character of the novel before us. Her name is Mercedes, and she is no
+doubt Madame de Morcerf. And the name of her son?"
+
+"Albert."
+
+"Well, there it is; the father was a scamp, who shot himself, the son
+and the wife resigned their possessions and then disappeared from
+society. It will perhaps be best if I send the servant to a library to
+get the romance; I wager that you will not put the book aside till you
+have perused it all through?"
+
+Clary nodded and ten minutes later she sat with glowing cheeks and
+beating heart absorbed in the reading of this interesting novel. She
+sympathized with Edmond Dantes and Faria, she wept with Mercedes, she
+hated Villefort, lamented for Madame Danglars, was enthusiastic for
+Valentine, admired Maximilian and breathed much easier when Madame de
+Villefort, the inhuman poisoner, had ended her evil career. And over all
+these personages hovered in wonderful glory the modern knight without
+fear and blame, the chastising judge, the noble benefactor. Monte-Cristo
+seemed to the young girl like a god, and when darkness set in and Madame
+Caraman looked about for her _protegee_, Clary embraced her and said,
+sobbing:
+
+"Oh, Mamma Caraman, how beautiful is the romance and how happy do I feel
+to have seen the count! Yes, so, just so, he ought to appear; oh,
+Alexandre Dumas is a great man!"
+
+Madame Caraman smiled; she did not expect anything else. Both ladies
+conversed then more explicitly of the various persons in the romance,
+and afterward the companion withdrew, as already mentioned, to the
+veranda to work, and Clary remained, absorbed in a reverie, sitting in a
+little pavilion ornamented with flowers.
+
+How long she had been meditating she was unable to tell, when all at
+once without the garden wall a curious noise was heard. Clary lifted her
+head and listened; the reading had excited her to the extent that at
+this moment a spectral appearance would have come not unexpectedly and
+yet she quite plainly noticed a sparkling pair of eyes, which
+inquiringly turned in all directions. Clary did not stir. A cloud, which
+up to that moment hid the moon, broke, and the girl recognized the
+Zouave, who sat upon the wall and then slipped down into the garden.
+Coucou seemed to know that he was trespassing upon strange ground; he
+listened for a while, and as everything seemed quiet he selected the
+walk which led to the veranda.
+
+At the veranda a lamp was burning, and close by stood a basket filled
+with various skeins and balls of wool, while Madame Caraman sat in her
+chair snoring comfortably. The Jackal remained motionless at the foot of
+the veranda and looked up, and as nothing seemed to move, he soon
+resolved to climb the fence, which was closed by the stairs leading into
+the garden.
+
+As soon as the Jackal saw Madame Caraman, he became rather agitated; he
+thought of his mother, and yet he was aware that this lady appeared far
+younger and more elegant than his mother, even were she alive. With his
+hands folded over his breast, he looked at the sleeping woman; he did
+not anticipate that Clary, hid behind a tamarind-tree, watched all his
+movements and almost broke her head in considering what motive brought
+the Zouave to this spot.
+
+Now Coucou approached the companion, but the noise woke Madame Caraman,
+and uttering a half-suppressed shriek she jumped up and looked drowsily
+at the intruder. She recognized only the form of a man, and
+instinctively grasping after the first object at hand, she took hold of
+the work-basket and threw it with all her might at the Zouave. The
+basket hit Coucou's head and clapped itself like a helmet over his face,
+while the wool skeins became entangled in his hair, tickling his nose
+and causing a violent cough and continual sneezing.
+
+The lady now first recognized the brave Jackal, and considering the
+awkward situation he was placed in, she could not help bursting into a
+loud laugh. In vain Coucou tried to rid himself of the wool threads; he
+coughed and sneezed uninterruptedly, and the basket seemed to cling more
+tightly to his face. At length the French lady took pity on him and
+helped him to remove the basket, and then in a voice of merriment which
+she could not suppress she said:
+
+"Well, Monsieur Jackal, you will perhaps tell me what induced you to
+come here?"
+
+Coucou was ready to answer, but the wool threads prevented him, and
+while Madame Caraman again broke out laughing, and Clary, below in the
+garden, suffered from suffocation, because she felt obliged to suppress
+her laughter in order not to betray her presence, the Zouave
+breathlessly gasped:
+
+"One--drop--of water--I suffocate!"
+
+Madame Caraman was not cruel. She handed the Jackal a glassful of water,
+and as the cough would not stop, she took from the sideboard a bottle
+filled with cordial and offered it to the soldier with these words:
+
+"There, drink a drop, you big scamp, and then explain your presence
+here."
+
+The Zouave cast a grateful glance at the lady and took a long draught
+out of the bottle.
+
+"Sapristi!" he then exclaimed, smacking his tongue, "that is an
+excellent drop!"
+
+"Bah, never mind the drop now, but answer my question," rejoined the
+lady. "What are you looking for here?"
+
+"I--intended--"
+
+"Quick, and do not stutter so awfully. Is it lawful at night and in
+darkness to enter a strange abode and to frighten people?"
+
+"Alas, I shall certainly never do it again," stammered poor Coucou,
+crestfallen. "I came here, because--"
+
+"Dear me, I almost believe you have lost your power of speech,"
+laughingly interrupted Madame Caraman.
+
+"Not exactly, madame, but behold, there are moments in the life of a
+soldier--"
+
+"In which he proves himself especially stupid," added Madame Caraman
+impatiently; "stick to your subject."
+
+Coucou bowed, as if a compliment were paid him.
+
+"Madame," he commenced again, "Providence permitted us to-day to meet
+each other--"
+
+"Providence?" repeated the lady in great merriment; "Mr. Zouave, you
+seem to me to be getting a little crazy!"
+
+"Oh, madame," said Coucou ardently, "it will not offend you, if I tell
+you that I find you exceedingly--and, speaking plainly, consider you
+quite lovely! Call me impertinent, madame: but believe my assurance that
+I speak the real truth. I have seen ladies in all parts of the world,
+blondes and brunettes, black and white, but I never met one who
+understood how to win my heart till I this day met you!"
+
+Madame Caraman was, indeed, Clary's governess, but she was, first of
+all, a wife, and Coucou's words were repugnant to her.
+
+"Monsieur Zouave," she replied, "I am forty-two years old" (unwittingly
+she skipped a few), "and you may call yourself lucky that I do not mind
+a joke--"
+
+"A joke? But I can take an oath--"
+
+"Do not swear," interrupted the lady, in a menacing manner, "but let me
+speak. First, you ought to know that I have always been an honest wife,
+and only loved my husband, who is now in heaven. Secondly, I am
+employed by a greatly esteemed and amiable young girl, and as you have
+without the slightest pretext entered here, you have forfeited the
+respect which you owe the owner of this villa. Thus you know now what
+you ought to know, and mark it down for the future, Monsieur Zouave."
+
+Coucou felt as if it were best for him to sink into the ground; red like
+a peony he began to stutter:
+
+"Pardon me, I intended nothing wrong!"
+
+The widow of the gendarme officer had compassion on his embarrassment.
+
+"Well, do not take it to heart too much," she said, kindly. "I do not
+bite anybody! You are, after all, a soldier, and if you do your duty,
+you cannot always touch everything with kid gloves. My dear departed
+husband often told me so, and therefore console yourself and listen to
+me. I am ready to pardon you, but only under one condition."
+
+"Oh, under all conditions, even ever so difficult," ejaculated Coucou,
+lively. "Speak, please; what am I to do?"
+
+"Not much, but to tell me, quite openly, why you have come to this place
+this evening?"
+
+"Only to see you."
+
+"Indeed! Well, I must confess I like you! So you have fallen in love
+with me, like a student at a boarding-school, and in order to satisfy
+your suddenly aroused desires you creep at night into other people's
+houses! Do you know how these fellows are generally styled?"
+
+Coucou bent his head, and Madame Caraman earnestly continued:
+
+"Would it not be more simple and also more becoming, if you were to
+come here to-morrow by daylight, and ask for admittance?"
+
+"But that is just the thing," despairingly exclaimed Coucou, "for me
+there is no morning!"
+
+"What does that all mean?"
+
+"Well, what I say is, that for me there is no morning here!"
+
+"Lord and Saviour, how am I to understand this nonsense?" said Madame
+Caraman, impatiently.
+
+Coucou changed his tactics.
+
+"Madame," said he with emphasis, "I will admit that my uncalled-for
+entrance here was certainly quite wrong, but you ought not to consider
+it in the light of an offence."
+
+"I hope so," replied the companion respectfully, "and I am ready to look
+for any proofs thereof."
+
+The Zouave again looked down quite abashed.
+
+"It passed previously through my head," he commenced, rather
+discouraged, "that you perhaps would show a little interest for me--"
+
+"Always worse--you are getting impertinent!"
+
+"No, no, madame, that I am not; only allow me to explain. Consider, I am
+a soldier; the regiment is my home, and I have neither father nor mother
+who care for me. Taking it all in all, I do not mind that; I fight with
+the Kabyles, and when one day my end approaches, nobody will have to
+mourn for me. But you appear to me so kind and trustworthy, that Satan
+urged me on, and as I shall probably never see you again--"
+
+"Ah, and why not?"
+
+"I bid you farewell, for to-morrow morning it will be all over."
+
+"Well, not so hasty; don't jump immediately from one extreme to
+another," scolded Madame Caraman, who against her own desire felt some
+sympathy, although she tried to hide it; "tell me now exactly the whole
+proceeding; otherwise you seem to be a brave fellow, and it would be a
+pity for the uniform you wear were it not so. Well, then, speak out;
+what is the matter to-morrow?"
+
+"Alas, madame, your kindness encourages me. Only consider, if a man is
+on the point of leaving his home, and perhaps forever, he is longing to
+say to somebody good-by, and when on such an occasion a beautiful woman
+shakes hands and says, 'Farewell, my boy,' then it surely brings luck!"
+
+"But, Monsieur Zouave, you speak in riddles to me. Where are you going,
+if I may put the question?"
+
+"To Algiers, in the desert, and then further."
+
+"But you are returning to your regiment?"
+
+"God forbid. I have an unlimited furlough."
+
+"By my life, it requires a corkscrew in order to get the words out of
+your mouth! Plainly told, what mean all these preliminaries?"
+
+"Well, you know already that the son of Madame Mercedes, Captain
+Joliette, has disappeared. I am attached to my captain and--"
+
+"Quick, make haste, I am fast losing all patience!"
+
+"To-day a pale-looking man with sparkling dark eyes, and coal-black hair
+and beard, told me that he starts to-morrow morning in order to search
+for Captain Joliette, and intends to take me with him!"
+
+Neither the Zouave nor Madame Caraman heard the half-suppressed
+exclamation, which had just occurred close to the veranda; Madame
+Caraman felt astonished, and rising suddenly asked almost breathlessly:
+
+"If I understand rightly, then, the Count of Monte-Cristo intends
+searching the Sahara for Captain Joliette?"
+
+"Yes, that is the case, and I accompany him. For such an expedition
+courage is the first requirement, and, as I do not lack any, the count
+has selected me. Now, you know all and wherefore I came; I did not wish
+to vex you, and now I depart again. Adieu, Madame Caraman!"
+
+The Zouave swung his cap and turned round ready to depart. The lady
+looked at him with mingled feelings; she was a kind-hearted soul and the
+brave Zouave amused her. She never had a son, but she thought, if God
+had presented her with one, he ought to have resembled the Jackal. That
+he came to bid her good-by, moved her, and she said in a half-audible
+voice:
+
+"Monsieur Zouave!"
+
+Coucou remained standing.
+
+"Come this way! Are you, perhaps, afraid of me? On previous occasions
+you were less timid."
+
+Coucou's hesitating steps justified this suspicion, and Madame Caraman
+continued, smilingly:
+
+"I shall not hurt you; there, put your hand into mine--" Coucou blushed
+like a girl.
+
+"What? I should be allowed to put my ugly paw into your hand!" he
+stuttered quite confounded, and then he perceived that he had been again
+rude and tried to excuse himself.
+
+"I spoke of my ugly paw--I--"
+
+"Never mind that," the lady interrupted him; "there, shake hands and
+think that I am your mother!"
+
+"You my mother?" said Coucou laughing, with tears in his eyes; "oh, no
+such thing; then you must act differently! When I took leave of my poor
+mother, she took hold of my head and kissed me heartily on both cheeks!
+I believe I have to thank these kisses that I still carry my head
+between my shoulders!"
+
+Madame Caraman wiped a tear from her eye, and then she took the head of
+the Zouave between her hands and did exactly like his mother.
+
+"Hurrah, Mother Caraman," called out Coucou joyfully; "you are an
+excellent mother! Farewell, and if God spares me, I hope we may meet
+again!"
+
+"I hope so, my boy," said Madame Caraman with faltering voice. "God
+protect you and grant that you may again find your captain! It will all
+be right in course of time--adieu!"
+
+The Zouave made two long strides in getting downstairs, and in a moment
+he had reached and climbed the garden-wall. Placing himself upon it, he
+swung his cap, and calling aloud, "Adieu, Mother Caraman," disappeared.
+
+"A real Parisian boy," muttered Madame Caraman to herself: "a hot-headed
+fellow with a golden heart. It would grieve me should I not see him
+again."
+
+A soft hand now touched the lady's shoulder, and looking up she
+perceived her _protegee_, who stood before her smiling.
+
+"Is it you, Clary," said the companion rather awkwardly, while she
+changed color and became red and white, by turns, "you have then--"
+
+"Seen and heard the Zouave," rejoined the young girl, laughing.
+
+"But I can assure you--he came--I am not answerable--the garden-wall--"
+
+"I know, I know, Mamma Caraman," interrupted Clary. "You do not think
+that I am going to reproach you? So Coucou goes to Algiers?"
+
+"Yes, in order to search for Captain Joliette; the count--"
+
+"I know all," said Clary, hastily placing her finger upon the
+governess's lips; "they are going, but it is all chance--"
+
+"Yes, all chance work in a desert. It is terrible! Think only of the
+simoom, the sand, the Kabyles, and the wild animals!"
+
+"Have you the map of Algiers at hand?"
+
+"Yes, here is the atlas."
+
+Clary knelt close to the chair of the governess, who had the atlas on
+her lap, and after they had studied minutely all the mountains and
+deserts of Africa, she suddenly inquired:
+
+"How do people travel in the Sahara?"
+
+"In caravans, with camels and negroes. It is a troublesome journey, dear
+child, and--"
+
+"Mamma Caraman, how much money have we at present in hand?" suddenly
+interrupted Clary.
+
+The governess drew a pocketbook out of her work-basket, and, examining
+the contents, said:
+
+"About three hundred pounds sterling, or seven thousand five hundred
+francs."
+
+"That is very little," said Clary.
+
+"We have besides bills of exchange to the amount of one hundred thousand
+francs."
+
+"What may be the time now?"
+
+"Nearly ten o'clock, Clary."
+
+"Well, then, please have our horses ready."
+
+"Our horses, at this time?" said the governess, alarmed.
+
+"Yes, at once. Hurry your toilet; I shall do the same, and then
+good-by."
+
+"But, Clary, what do you intend to do?"
+
+"Mamma Caraman, I am not yet quite clear upon that point, but on the
+road to Marseilles you shall know everything. Apropos, take the three
+hundred pounds with you."
+
+"You are not thinking, surely, of spending the money this very evening?"
+
+"H'm, who knows. At any rate take also the bills of exchange, and now go
+and make haste."
+
+Clary soon got away, and the astonished governess had no other
+alternative than to obey the orders of the spoiled child. Ten minutes
+later both ladies sat in their saddles, and rode, accompanied by a
+groom, toward the town.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+IN THE SPIDER'S WEB
+
+
+If one passes in Marseilles from Main Street across Villeneuve Place,
+and turns into Prison Street, there appears a dirty old house just
+opposite this street, which upon a signboard bears the appellation: "The
+Big Spider." This house is a resort for sailors of the worst kind, and,
+as soon as darkness sets in, becomes crowded with customers, whose
+physiognomies are anything but encouraging. The worst of vices found
+here in the Big Spider their formation, and the scum of all parts of the
+world used to assemble here. In fact, the whole surroundings of that
+quarter were nicknamed "The Spider Quarter," and many a one who had
+entered the quarter with well-filled pockets never left it again. The
+"Spider's web" closed upon him, and he was lost; for the walls never
+betrayed what passed behind them, nor did the inhabitants feel any
+desire to do so.
+
+In the dark smoky rooms alcoholic drinks were the principal beverage,
+and characterless women shared and indulged in the drunken revels.
+Continual strife and quarrels in which the knife was the chief weapon
+were always going on, while the police took good care not to come into
+contact with the guests of the Spider. At present, of course, the
+Spider's Quarter has ceased to exist, and one who nowadays perceives the
+well-lighted streets will hardly believe what a place it formerly
+was--_tempora mutantur_. While the Zouave Coucou took leave in the
+villa, a mixed company, like on all other nights, had gathered together
+in the Spider. English, French, Maltese, Italians and Spanish sailors
+sat round the heavy oak tables; girls in curious dresses, whose painted
+cheeks showed plainly the traces of debauchery, thronged around a female
+card conjurer, who in a corner was performing her black art, while a
+woman with a harp was waiting with her old instrument till called upon
+to play or sing before the company. Here and there sat groups of men and
+women on whose foreheads vice was plainly written, and according as the
+dice rolled and the cards dropped, there could be heard curses and
+imprecations, as well as shouts of joy. The atmosphere was impregnated
+with the filthy oil of the dimly lighted lamps, the odor of alcoholic
+drinks, and the poisonous smell of tobacco.
+
+It was almost midnight when a new-comer entered. The man wore a short
+jacket, a red girdle held the dark trousers around the waist, and a
+broad-brimmed oilcloth hat sat at an angle upon a head full of rich
+red-blond hair. The beard of the man was red and thick, while his form
+showed that he was possessed of great muscular power.
+
+It was plain that the stranger was an English sailor, and the sharp
+accent with which he gave his orders to the morose landlord, of whom he
+demanded a mixture of rum and cordial, testified to this supposition.
+The host, who was a suspicious-looking individual with piercing black
+eyes, which wickedly squinted from under a pair of peculiar thick
+eyelashes, soon brought the drink to the sailor, and while placing the
+tin can containing the hot beverage on the table, he held out his right
+hand to receive payment; for in the Spider the rule is: "First pay and
+then you may drink." The sailor did not seem to relish this custom; he
+drew a heavy purse from his pocket, took out a gold piece and threw it
+on the table.
+
+While the host took the gold piece, a louis d'or, and curiously looked
+at it, more than twenty eyes turned greedily upon the sailor; the
+customers of the Spider knew well the sound of the gold pieces. Out of
+pure mischief the host tried the sound of the gold piece again on the
+tin can, and then smilingly placed it in his pocket: again, suspicious
+looks turned upon the man who paid in gold, and their bewilderment was
+increased as the stranger refused the change. "Keep it for yourself,"
+said he, loud enough to be heard. The landlord, who understood many
+languages, shook his head and dryly replied:
+
+"Keep your money, old fellow--I only take my due."
+
+The Englishman felt vexed, struck with his fist on the table, took hold
+of the tin can and emptied the drink with one draught.
+
+"You decline my money?" he asked with a strong English accent.
+
+"I do not say so," added the host, in a half-satisfactory tone, "but
+to-day and to-morrow do not resemble each other, and what you bestow on
+me to-day you may rue to-morrow."
+
+"That concerns no one but myself," exclaimed the sailor; "if I like to
+be generous, I have a right to be so. Yes or no--will you accept the
+money?"
+
+"No, braggart, I do not need your money! The host of the Big Spider is
+richer than you!"
+
+"Richer than I am? Who the dickens can say so?" ejaculated the sailor in
+a rage, and pulling out his purse and opening it he threw all its
+contents on the table. A heap of gold rolled on the oaken surface, and
+with loud shouting the guests around the table jumped up.
+
+Only the landlord looked upon it indifferently.
+
+"Englishman, you are a fool," he muttered half aloud; "you wish to be
+duped under all circumstances! Beware!"
+
+"Shut up," shouted the sailor, and turning toward the rest, he said in a
+low voice:
+
+"Do you know what the host has just whispered to me? He cautions me to
+be on my guard; he seemingly believes that you intend to murder me in
+order to get my money!"
+
+A death-like silence followed these bold words, and the eyes of all
+present turned with unmistakable eagerness upon the heap of gold. Most
+of these miserable beings had already often bathed themselves knee-deep
+in blood; and therefore to commit murder was a bagatelle, as long as it
+brought profit.
+
+The landlord, shrugging his shoulders, returned to his place near the
+door; he would let the sailor take his own part, if he really wanted to
+be stupid.
+
+Now, a large fellow, a Provencal, approached and placed himself on a
+seat right before the Englishman, and was at once ready to take hold of
+the money.
+
+"Old fellow," said he, grumbling, "is that lot of money really your own
+property?"
+
+"Yes, all honestly earned money."
+
+"H'm--that I care for but very little. Do you know, I am just at
+present short of cash, and I suppose you will not hesitate to lend a
+friend a helping hand, eh? Well, then, I'll take just what I am in want
+of."
+
+The hand of the Provencal selected a few gold pieces, but almost at the
+same time he shouted aloud and staggered back.
+
+The sailor, with a vise-like grip, grasped the wrist of the intruder and
+he soon dropped the gold pieces.
+
+The Provencal gnashed his teeth in rage, and, rubbing his bruised wrist,
+muttered:
+
+"If you do not wish your sinful money to be touched, then you should not
+expose it so boastingly! You will not even assist me a little? It stands
+to reason that later on I will pay you everything back: well, are you
+satisfied?"
+
+"No," replied the sailor coolly, "go to the devil! Away--do not touch my
+money; I can skin you!"
+
+"Ah, that we shall soon see," loudly exclaimed the Provencal, and
+putting his hand in his pocket he produced a large knife. At the same
+time he uttered a few words to his comrades in their own jargon, and
+immediately the sailor was surrounded by a dozen men whose hands were
+armed with glittering knives.
+
+The Englishman seemed, however, not in the least affected; he put the
+money all in one heap, and placing himself with his back toward the
+wall, he crossed his arms over his chest, and asked, scornfully:
+
+"What do you mean to do? Are you really ready to murder me?"
+
+"Keep your peace, braggart! You wish to entice us with your money. Give
+us half of it, or you will not fare very well here. Well, are you
+willing to divide?"
+
+"I don't know about that. If anybody in my part of the country says 'I
+will,' then he must prove that he is also able."
+
+"What does this all mean? Do you think of defying us?"
+
+"I am ready for you. Just come on, if you think proper!"
+
+"Stand back, comrades!" exclaimed the Provencal, "I will teach him
+something better. Just wait, John Bull, you will soon know me; I'll get
+the best of you, and then we will divide the spoils."
+
+"Yes, yes!" the others cried, "let us divide!"
+
+"Keep quiet," said the Englishman, coolly. "You want a regular fight
+with knives, do you? Pah, I have no objection; but you will allow me,
+instead of using a knife, to make use of this weapon!" and thereupon he
+drew from his pocket a small, brightly polished poniard about three or
+four inches long, which looked more like a lady's plaything than
+anything else.
+
+The shabby lot laughed at him loudly; and, comparing the Catalonian
+knives they handled with the sailor's poniard, it appeared like a
+sewing-needle.
+
+"Perhaps you think I am a tailor?" said the Provencal, scornfully; "and
+have you not also a measure in your pocket?"
+
+"Large words, large knives, and that is all," said the sailor,
+contemptuously. "Listen. I make you an offer: if you can touch me, the
+money is yours; and, mark well, not only half, but the whole of it!"
+
+"Agreed. Comrades, step aside!"
+
+With a push of his foot the Provencal cleared one of the tables; the
+rest did the same in putting tables and chairs aside for an open space.
+The host alone remained passive; he had seen enough of these
+occurrences, and was in nowise astonished. Even the female portion of
+the guests seemed to take an interest in the combat; everywhere you
+could see glittering eyes awaiting the spectacle to come, and now and
+then the call went forth: "The impertinent fool!" "Well, the Provencal
+will teach him better!" "Just look, the poniard is set with diamonds!"
+"Where could he have stolen it?" "Perhaps from his sweetheart. Ha! ha!
+ha!"
+
+One of the guests, however, did not share in the general noise. He was a
+man who sat at a side table, his head resting in both his hands, so that
+his face could not exactly be recognized. Raven black long hair,
+slightly tinged with gray, fell down on his broad shoulders; the man
+wore sailor's clothes, but they looked tattered and worn out. Before him
+stood a large, half-emptied bottle of liquor. He sat motionless, and, in
+spite of the noise around him, remained at the table without stirring.
+The glance of the English sailor was at different times directed toward
+him, and it even seemed as if he wanted to speak to him, but nobody
+noticed it.
+
+Now the Provencal approached the Englishman. It was quite a sight to see
+him standing with spread-out legs, half-naked, hairy arms, muscular
+chest, the knife lifted up in his right hand, and a vulgar smile on his
+thick lips, and many a one would have considered twice before he
+ventured on such a task. His age was, no doubt, about forty, and his
+glaring eyes glanced continually from the Englishman to the gold, and
+then again at his comrades, as if intending to say:
+
+"Just be a little patient, I'll procure the prize for us."
+
+The Englishman too had arisen. His slender figure appeared almost
+meagre when compared with his opponent, and yet his dark eyes looked
+around steadily and quietly. Either he plays with the danger threatening
+him, or he is not able to see it; one stroke of the Provencal was
+sufficient to batter down the Englishman, and what use is the neat
+little weapon in comparison with the terrible large knife?
+
+"Are you ready?" shouted aloud the Provencal.
+
+"Yes, bandit," sounded loudly in reply.
+
+The sailor leaned with his back to the wall; a retrograde movement was
+impossible, and yet--yet the Provencal began to press him closely. The
+knife glittered--a jump--and the Provencal shrieked with pain and sank
+to the ground. The poniard of the Englishman had penetrated deeply into
+the hand which held the knife; a dark stream of blood flowed from the
+wound, when the sailor drew out the point of the blade, and the
+Provencal screamed in his agony:
+
+"Wait, miserable juggler, you will suffer for it."
+
+Breathing heavily he stepped back a few paces, and again swinging his
+knife, he threw it quickly at the face of the sailor. The sailor had
+lifted his left hand, and in a second struck the weapon as it fell; the
+knife whirled around, and the next moment the Englishman caught it in
+his hand. Triumphantly he swung round the knife in his left, and the
+poniard in his right hand; the Provencal uttered a heavy curse, and
+withdrawing the knife from a comrade standing behind him, he prepared to
+again attack his opponent.
+
+The Englishman allowed him to approach; but as soon as he was ready to
+jump at him, he threw away poniard and knife, took hold of the
+Provencal by his wrists, and as easily as if he were but a child,
+pitched him right in the midst of bottles and glasses, placed upon a
+table some distance off.
+
+The Provencal howled with rage; and the breaking of the bottles and
+glasses scattered glass all over the place, causing many bloody hands
+and heads. The giant bled from a wound on his forehead, and, turning to
+his comrades, he called aloud:
+
+"Kill him, ye _canaille_! Can you look on quietly when he is killing
+me?"
+
+Irresolute, the crowd stared at the sailor, and he, taking advantage of
+the momentary quietness, jumped over tables and benches into a corner,
+where the solitary guest sat, and placed his hand upon his shoulder:
+
+"Up!" he called with penetrating voice, "up in the name of Manuelita!"
+
+As if touched by an electric shock, the man jumped up, and, throwing one
+single glance at the sailor, he gave a yell and leaped right in the
+midst of the vagabonds, and with herculean power he knocked down all who
+were near him, crying with rage:
+
+"Away with you, bandits! Whoever touches a hair on this man's head
+dies!"
+
+As soon as the men heard the voice, they remained standing as if
+petrified, and even the most courageous turned pale.
+
+"Jacopo!" went from mouth to mouth. "What the devil brought him here?
+Let us hasten to depart. See only how his eyes are rolling; he is once
+more in a passion!"
+
+The other must have been aware of his ruling power over these miserable
+vagabonds, for he pulled the door open and peremptorily ordered them to
+leave the room, saying threateningly:
+
+"March off, or I'll get you all on the galleys again, which you ought
+never to have left!"
+
+"We are going; pardon us!" cringingly replied the men; and like beaten
+dogs they all left quite hastily.
+
+The Provencal lingered a while at the door.
+
+"How about the money?" he inquired, in dog-like submission.
+
+"Throw it to the bandits outside the door, Jacopo," said the sailor,
+despisingly.
+
+Jacopo took the money in both hands and scattered it in a large circle
+on the street.
+
+Howling, shrieking, and with a tremendous noise, the bandits fought for
+the booty. Jacopo locked the door, closed the latch, and kneeling before
+the sailor, whispered: "Master, what is it you demand of me?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+MANUELITA
+
+
+Who was Jacopo?
+
+About nineteen years before, in February, 1829, Edmond Dantes--a
+prisoner for life in the Castle d'If--owing to his energy, escaped from
+his jailers, sewed up in a sack which had contained the corpse of his
+friend, the Abbe Faria. He was dragged by the jailers to the churchyard
+of the Castle d'If, and there buried. The churchyard of the Castle d'If,
+however, was the ocean! The waves were more merciful than man; they gave
+the deserted one a friendly reception, and washed him close to a ship, a
+genuine tartane, where in despair he called out for help. He waved the
+red sailor's cap which a sympathizing gust of wind had thrown down from
+a rock, and the men on board of the tartane saw it. "Courage!" they
+called to him. With a weak, despairing grasp he took hold of the rope
+which had been thrown toward him, and then became insensible.
+
+When he came to he lay on the deck, and sympathizing sailors bent over
+him. They administered rum, they rubbed his benumbed body, and he who
+had first seen the unfortunate man put his own woollen jacket around
+the man's shivering shoulders. This sympathizing sailor was called
+Jacopo; he was a powerful young fellow, with laughing blue eyes. When
+Edmond Dantes had recourse to stratagem, and, in order to remain alone
+at Monte-Cristo, leaped from the rock, it was Jacopo who picked him up,
+and only against his will left him again.
+
+"Who knows whether you will not one time become a captain? Has not your
+countryman Bonaparte become emperor?"
+
+Hereupon Jacopo almost went into hysterics; how could he become captain?
+no, so high he never climbed even in his boldest dreams; he felt
+satisfied if he only continued to have a place on the deck of a ship;
+then the ocean was his home, his family, his all!
+
+Edmond Dantes has the name Jacopo fixed in his memory. He will, no
+doubt, have an after opportunity to reward the brave fellow.
+
+Years had passed when the Count of Monte-Cristo began to recollect the
+brave Corsican. He searched for him and said:
+
+"Do you remember a sailor whose life you once saved, and who prophesied
+that you would become a captain?"
+
+Jacopo blushed; no, he has not yet forgotten this prophecy.
+
+"I knew this sailor," continued the count, "and received of him the
+commission to cancel his debt to you."
+
+"His debt?" exclaimed Jacopo, not knowing the meaning thereof.
+
+"Yes, your dream points to a captaincy, and I have the order to realize
+this dream."
+
+"You! oh, do not make fun of me--"
+
+"What are you thinking of? Look here, Jacopo, do you see this yacht
+which is now riding on the waves?"
+
+"I see her. She appears to me slender and beautiful--she is a pearl of a
+vessel."
+
+"I am glad that the yacht is to your taste; she is my property, and I
+appoint you as captain, if you have no objection!"
+
+Jacopo became almost wild with joy. During the next few months the
+elegant yacht, called the Ice Bird, moved her wings actively, crossing
+every sea, and the captain was delighted with her.
+
+When the count came to Paris to investigate the fate of the families
+Villefort and Danglars, Jacopo received his dismissal, or rather his
+temporary freedom.
+
+"Master," he asked, sorrowfully, "why do you send me away? Have you to
+complain of anything concerning me?"
+
+"No, Jacopo; but at present I do not need the yacht any further; I
+intend for a time to remain in Paris."
+
+"Well, at any rate, I will always be ready to obey your least hint,"
+said the Corsican, with enthusiasm. "Command me, and I shall at once
+honor your call."
+
+"How who knows?" said Monte-Cristo, laughingly.
+
+"What do you wish to say by that assertion, master? Do you believe
+Jacopo will be remiss in fulfilling his promise?"
+
+"Who knows?" repeated the count, still laughing, and then, drawing out
+his pocketbook, he said in an earnest tone: "Jacopo, you have a secret."
+
+"I?"
+
+"Why avoid my question? Your blushing cheeks convict you of untruth, and
+then you ought to know me sufficiently; you know that my looks can
+penetrate the innermost depths of thy soul."
+
+Jacopo bent down his head, turned the cap in his hand confusedly, and
+became red like a red garden flower.
+
+"Am I to tell you that I am able to read you to the bottom of your
+heart?"
+
+"Master--"
+
+"I read there a name--"
+
+Jacopo trembled, and grasped a chair to support himself.
+
+"It is the name of a woman."
+
+"Master, master, I entreat you not to mention the name. I suffer enough
+without that."
+
+The count's countenance grew gloomy.
+
+"Jacopo," said he, peremptorily, "I am forbearing if anybody places
+confidence in me; irreconcilable if any one seeks to deceive me. I keep
+silent if you wish it, but we are forever separated. Farewell, you will
+never see me more!"
+
+He turned to go, but the power which this singular man exercised over
+others was so great that Jacopo broke out into loud lamentations. He
+preferred to suffer anything rather than consent to perpetual
+separation.
+
+"Say, master," he said, with a sigh, "am I able to leave you?"
+
+Monte-Cristo smiled.
+
+"You are a child," he then said. "You cannot bear to hear anybody
+speaking of your love, because you are forever separated from her."
+
+"Oh, master, then you know everything."
+
+"Listen to me, I am ready to tell you all that I know. There below, in
+the Catalonian quarter of Marseilles, lives a fisherman's family. Brave
+and diligent, they were never ashamed of their calling. They have worked
+day and night with boat and net, and accumulated a nice amount of
+property. The family consists of ten persons: father, mother, seven
+sons, and one daughter live in the modest but decent hut. The sons are
+strong and courageous fellows, who are not afraid of anybody; the
+daughter is charming with her dark curly hair, her glowing sloe-black
+eyes, and her marble white skin. Jacopo, am I to tell you the name of
+the little one?"
+
+"Manuelita"--it sounded gently like a breath from the lips of Jacopo.
+
+"You have liked this beautiful child since you first saw her, and one
+day you took heart and you went to Manuelita's father--"
+
+"Who turned me out like a beggar," interrupted Jacopo, gloomily.
+
+"That he did not do," continued the count, coolly. "He told you quietly,
+Manuelita will not become a poor man's wife."
+
+"And perhaps that was no insult?" continued Jacopo, vehemently. "All
+people cannot be rich."
+
+"But Manuelita's father has also told you something else?" asked
+Monte-Cristo, quietly.
+
+"Oh, yes," replied Jacopo, bitterly; "he called after me that if I came
+back with twenty thousand francs, then Manuelita should be mine. I earn
+such wealth! He was making sport of me."
+
+And Jacopo stamped angrily and uttered a heavy curse.
+
+Monte-Cristo looked at him reflectively. Then he took a leaf from his
+pocket-book, which he held in his hand, and offering it to Jacopo, said:
+
+"Here, take this."
+
+"What am I to do with it, master?" asked Jacopo, astonished.
+
+"Well, can't you read any more?"
+
+"Oh, yes; I read an order for 20,000 francs to which your name is
+affixed."
+
+"And payable at--"
+
+"Thomson & French, in Rome."
+
+"You perhaps doubt whether these gentlemen will honor my signature."
+
+"Oh, master, your signature is as good as ready cash!"
+
+"Well, then, go to the first banker you can find and have the check
+cashed."
+
+Jacopo looked at the count quite bewildered, and thus the conversation
+about Manuelita was ended, and his master gave him simply an order.
+
+"Am I to deliver the cash to you, master?" he asked, not being certain
+yet.
+
+"No, not to me."
+
+"To whom, then, otherwise, master?"
+
+"To nobody."
+
+"Yes, but, dear me, what is the money for?"
+
+"You shall keep it."
+
+"I?"
+
+"Yes, you yourself."
+
+"And what am I to do with it?"
+
+"You have to look for Manuelita's father, show him the money, and remind
+him of his pledge."
+
+Pale, not able to utter a word, Jacopo stared at the count;
+Monte-Cristo waited a moment, and then said, smilingly:
+
+"Have you now understood me?"
+
+"No, master--I do not comprehend--"
+
+"Nay, one might almost believe that you have not a grain of sense. The
+amount is your property--you have deserved it honestly."
+
+"I deserve it? Oh, you make sport of me! If I have done my duty, that is
+my best recompense."
+
+"Yes, for your services as captain of the yacht. But there are also
+other services which cannot be paid for; submission, honesty, and
+courage cannot be paid for in gold, and in spite of the 20,000 francs I
+remain still your debtor."
+
+"Oh, master, you make me feel ashamed!"
+
+"Jacopo," said the count, sorrowfully, "do not speak like that. Of what
+value is money to me? I can give you still more, but to what purpose?
+You have enough to be happy; you have had a dream of domestic happiness,
+try to realize it! Your desires are moderate; you intend to work and be
+useful from morning to night, and as the only reward for your labor you
+require Manuelita's love. Have you any further wishes, my brave man?"
+
+"No, none; only Manuelita!"
+
+"Then take her, and be happy!"
+
+Jacopo stared yet at his master rather doubtfully.
+
+"What is it to be, Jacopo, yes or no?"
+
+Instead of answering, Jacopo kissed the hand of his master.
+
+"All right, Jacopo," said Monte-Cristo. "I only require one thing of
+you."
+
+"Oh, speak--speak only!"
+
+"I know, in case I came in a few months to Marseilles, you will hesitate
+to accompany me."
+
+"I hesitate, master? How can you believe that? My life belongs to you!"
+
+"No, Jacopo; from the moment you call Manuelita yours your life belongs
+to her. Do not take any oath, for you will never keep it. Did not even
+Peter deny the Lord three times? and Peter had no loving wife. In six,
+in twelve months, the thought of leaving Manuelita will surely make you
+unhappy; I know man, and I know you."
+
+Jacopo looked toward the ground rather ashamed; he was aware that the
+count had spoken the truth.
+
+"Nor do I demand that you should leave her."
+
+Jacopo breathed a great deal easier.
+
+"What am I to do?" he inquired hastily.
+
+"Swear to me that, at any day or any hour I should call on you in
+Manuelita's name to assist me, you will follow my orders!"
+
+Jacopo lifted his right hand on high.
+
+"Master, I swear it to you," said he, solemnly.
+
+"I trust to your oath; go and be happy."
+
+Overcome with joy, Jacopo hastened to Marseilles, soon reached the
+Catalonian quarter, and greeted Manuelita with a bright smile.
+
+The father of the beautiful Catalonian was on the point of becoming
+vexed when he saw Jacopo, but soon became almost dumb when the Corsican
+waved a well-filled purse and reminded him of his promise.
+
+Scarcely a month elapsed before the marriage was celebrated, and happy
+Jacopo led the beautiful Manuelita to the neat abode which he had
+prepared for her.
+
+There have passed days and months full of undisturbed happiness. Jacopo
+has bought a barge and baptized her Manuelita; he has sailed on the blue
+ocean and returned with a rich harvest of fish; prosperity reigns in the
+little cottage on the strand, and Manuelita is beautiful as the young
+day.
+
+The count appeared one morning, when Jacopo was just ready for his
+fishing excursion.
+
+"Will you accompany me?" he asked, laughingly.
+
+The Corsican flushed, and Monte-Cristo said in a consoling tone: "Quiet
+yourself, I am only joking; what I want of you to-day will take only a
+short time."
+
+That was at the time when the count ordered Jacopo to bring his farewell
+wishes to Valentine and Maximilian.
+
+When the Ice Bird with sails unfurled left Marseilles, Jacopo felt
+somewhat dissatisfied with himself, and sometimes it appeared to him as
+if Manuelita had changed. Beautiful and lovely she still appeared, but
+her manner made some impression on Jacopo, and by degrees he found that
+others also thought his young, lovely wife had undergone a change.
+First, it was only hinted at, but afterward the talk spread and became
+louder that Manuelita deceived her husband; she loved another, Jacopo's
+friend. Jacopo did not at first mind this talk, but one evening he saw
+Manuelita fly at Parlo and offer him her sweet lips to kiss, and it
+enraged him to think that the people were in the right. He mastered with
+superhuman exertion all the thoughts that surged within him, and nobody
+might know that he was aware of the disgrace of his wife, nor that he
+contemplated an awful revenge. Why Manuelita betrayed him none could
+tell! He was a most faithful and indulgent husband; he would have gone
+for the beautiful Catalonian into the fire, and she--the lips which she
+offered him were soiled from the adulterous kisses of Parlo--the arm
+which she placed round his neck had also embraced Judas lovingly--she
+was a monster in enticing form. From this time, when Jacopo realized
+Manuelita's faithlessness he resolved to destroy her and her lover, and
+that the boat which bore the name of the faithless wife should become
+the instrument to carry out his revenge!
+
+One morning Jacopo said to Manuelita:
+
+"The weather is delightful; I think I shall take a fishing cruise. Will
+you accompany me?"
+
+Manuelita hesitated; she thought perhaps Parlo might visit her.
+
+Jacopo noticed her hesitation, and said with a smile that tore his heart
+into pieces:
+
+"I have also asked Parlo to accompany us, because he is such good
+company!"
+
+Manuelita's countenance began to beam, and Jacopo suffered the pains of
+torment when he perceived it, but took heart and said coolly:
+
+"I shall in the meantime go to the shore to see whether the nets are all
+in proper condition."
+
+He went, and when he returned after a while, and accidentally threw a
+glance at the window, he found Parlo in Manuelita's arms.
+
+Pale as death and with tottering knees the unfortunate remained almost
+petrified on the spot; and when he revived a little and came ten minutes
+later into the house he appeared gay, and nobody could guess what
+anguish of soul he suffered.
+
+"Are you ready?" he inquired quietly.
+
+"Yes," nodded Manuelita.
+
+"Then let us go; the nets are all ready."
+
+Like an automaton Jacopo walked along the shore between the guilty pair;
+he mechanically answered questions, and when Manuelita offered her lips
+for a kiss after being helped into the boat, he had sufficient power
+over himself to touch with his lips the false mouth.
+
+The boat glided through the blue waves of the ocean; Manuelita's dark
+curls played with the wind, and Parlo was intoxicated with joy as he
+looked at her. Jacopo sat at the rudder and looked inquiringly at a
+small dark cloud which appeared on the horizon some distance off and
+quickly neared them.
+
+The Corsican allowed the boat to go with full sail before the wind, and
+soon nothing but the sky and water could be seen.
+
+Parlo and Manuelita, engaged with each other, did not perceive the
+change in the weather, and when they heard in the distance a hollow,
+rolling sound they quickly arose to their feet.
+
+Manuelita trembled, and lifting her beautiful eyes to Jacopo she
+inquired anxiously:
+
+"Jacopo, is there a storm coming on?"
+
+"Pah," replied the Corsican reassuringly, as he threw his net into the
+sea; "it is of no importance."
+
+Jacopo was an experienced seaman; when he said the storm did not
+signify, you could depend on it that he was right. Manuelita saw that
+Jacopo was quite unconcerned, and looking at the roaring, rising waves
+she again grew calm and again watched Parlo. He also seemed careless;
+he laughed and joked, and, behind Jacopo's back, stole many a kiss from
+his beloved.
+
+A bright flash of lightning came down; the thunder rolled, and the
+black, cloudy wall rose ever higher on the blue horizon. Jacopo,
+however, did not mind it; he hummed a Corsican fisher-song and dipped
+his net into the sea. That he always drew it out empty did not trouble
+him; from time to time he threw unnoticed a glance at the others and
+gnashed his teeth.
+
+Suddenly a heavy gale caught the foresail and tore it to shreds; the
+mainsail was also destroyed, then the foresail fell to the deck.
+
+With a loud cry Manuelita sank on her knees and Parlo cried out
+terrified:
+
+"Jacopo, we are lost!"
+
+"Save us, Jacopo," sobbed the Catalonian; and then she made the sign of
+the cross and muttered a prayer, while the storm increased in fury.
+
+Jacopo remained motionless. He took an axe and lifted it high in his
+right hand, while the boat tossed like a nutshell and the noise of the
+storm deadened all other sounds.
+
+"The boat is too heavy," muttered Jacopo to himself, and swinging his
+axe he cut off the mizzen-mast close to the deck. Neither Parlo nor
+Manuelita said a word, and, engaged only with each other, believed that
+Jacopo was trying to save them, and only as the mast heavily struck the
+waves realized their peril.
+
+The storm now absolutely controlled the light boat and twisted her round
+here and there. Jacopo lifted his axe again and cut down also the
+foremast.
+
+"Parlo," shrieked Manuelita, despairingly, "save us--we drown!"
+
+Parlo pretended that he did not hear these words, for Jacopo's curious
+fixed look had put him on his guard. Manuelita, overcome with fright,
+forgot everything, and, clasping her hands around Parlo's neck, she
+sobbed out:
+
+"Save me--oh, save me, Parlo!"
+
+Jacopo swung his axe afresh, but this time it remained deep in the keel
+of the ship, and now light dawned on Parlo. Jacopo meant to destroy
+them.
+
+"Hold on, Jacopo," he called aloud despairingly, and tried to take hold
+of the axe.
+
+The Corsican said not a word, but he, with his axe uplifted, kept Parlo
+at a distance, and then cut again into the keel, till a loud creaking
+was audible.
+
+Jacopo had at last succeeded in his object--gurgling and roaring, the
+agitated waters rose through the leak in the ship, and Parlo shrieked
+like a madman.
+
+"Jacopo--you carry us to destruction!"
+
+Jacopo's pale features became at last animated; he threw himself on
+Parlo, grasped his shoulders, and, forcing him on the floor of the boat,
+pressed his knee on his chest.
+
+"Manuelita," he called, with a voice which sounded through the storm
+like a trumpet, "you shall be happy with your lover, miserable woman!"
+
+Manuelita heard the words--she saw the quick rising flood--she saw
+Jacopo kneeling upon Parlo's chest, and she understood all--all!
+
+Higher and higher still rose the water, and now Jacopo laughingly left
+his rival--he was drowning in the waves.
+
+Manuelita raised her folded hands in entreaty--then came a last shriek,
+a hoarse laugh, and the boat sank, never to be seen again.
+
+The next day the sea was serene and calm in the splendor of the rising
+sun, and a man engaged in fishing noticed a motionless body lying on the
+strand. Alarmed he hastened to lift up the body and recognized Jacopo!
+
+Singularly enough, life was not quite extinct; the fisher brought the
+half-dead man to his house, and under the careful treatment of kind
+neighbors Jacopo soon revived as far as his body was concerned, but his
+mind remained affected.
+
+A few days later the corpses of Parlo and Manuelita were driven on the
+strand, and now what had caused Jacopo to become insane was no more a
+riddle--had he not in one day lost the wife and the friend?
+
+Jacopo's madness was of a quiet kind; for hours he could sit on the
+shore and watch the playful movements of the waves; sometimes he bent
+over the blue waters as if he were in search of something, and then he
+shook his head sorrowfully. One day he sat again during a heavy gale on
+the strand; he saw a boat in which two men and a woman were sitting
+fighting with the waves. In his eyes light began to dawn all at once. He
+plunged into the water and soon had reached the boat. Breathless stood
+the people who saw it and noticed all his movements, and now they found
+him swimming toward the shore, holding a human figure in his arms, and
+loud hurrahs and rejoicing met him for his courage.
+
+He had succeeded in saving the woman; the two men found a watery grave.
+In expectation of something, he knelt down by the woman, and when she
+opened her eyes Jacopo uttered sorrowfully:
+
+"It is not her," and then departed.
+
+From this day Jacopo's madness was broken; he certainly roamed about for
+days on the strand, but the veil which had clouded his mind was torn,
+and only when a storm raged it came over him like inspiration, and he
+ventured courageously upon saving the lives of those in danger.
+
+Thus not a week passed in which Jacopo had not found opportunity to save
+people from shipwreck: the inhabitants on the strand surrounded him with
+a godlike veneration, and whenever a vessel was in danger there he was
+on the spot. Heaven seemingly favored him; hundreds he saved from a
+watery grave, and soon his word on the strand became quite an authority.
+
+In course of time Jacopo began clearly to remember the entire affair as
+it happened on that eventful morning, and in order to drown those
+recollections he became a drunkard. In this state he was found by the
+English sailor, in whom, no doubt, the reader must have recognized the
+Count of Monte-Cristo; also Jacopo knew the voice of his beloved master,
+and his heart became animated with fresh hopes when he called him to his
+help. As Jacopo knelt before the count, Monte-Cristo put aside the long,
+entangled hair which hung down over the Corsican's face, and, in a
+sorrowful tone and compassionately moved by the sight, said to him:
+
+"Jacopo, you have suffered heavily!"
+
+The Corsican sobbed bitterly, and the count continued: "How long it is
+since I saw your bright face on the strand; at that time you were happy
+in the possession of Manuelita, and to-day I find you broken,
+despairing, and--alone!"
+
+Jacopo could only go on sobbing, and hot tears came down his pale,
+haggard cheeks.
+
+"You have killed Manuelita," whispered the count softly.
+
+Jacopo trembled.
+
+"Who has told you, master?"
+
+"Don't you know that I can read your soul?"
+
+"Yes," nodded Jacopo. "I have killed her!"
+
+"And do you regret the deed?"
+
+"This question I cannot exactly answer," observed Jacopo timidly. "I was
+for a time insane, and often I wish I were so even now; the clouded mind
+was bliss compared with the terrible recollections which now break my
+heart! Oh, what wouldn't I give to have courage enough to take my own
+life; but I lack that courage; I suffer terribly, I cry, I wring my
+hands, and yet I live. Oh, the cowardice! who will save me from myself?"
+
+"I," said Monte-Cristo, earnestly.
+
+"You, master? Yes, you are almighty, and if you like you are able to
+pull out of my bleeding wounds the painful darts which are tearing my
+heart. Pity me, count, and I am free!"
+
+Monte-Cristo's look rested pitifully upon the unfortunate, and his voice
+sounded soft and mild when saying:
+
+"Jacopo, only to save you I came here."
+
+"I feel it, I know it; oh, how kind you are!"
+
+"Jacopo, when man is carried away by his passions and has done
+evil--what you have done was bad, because you did not possess the right
+to judge Manuelita, and you feel it by your remorse--then there is only
+one remedy, to atone for the sin--"
+
+"Oh, mention the remedy, master! It is singular, but since I have looked
+into your eyes and heard your voice, I have the feeling that the bloody
+fog which darkened my eyes had disappeared. I breathe again more freely,
+and my head is clear as it was previously, when I passed days on the
+ocean and saw nothing above me but heaven and sun. Master, tell me, what
+am I to do?"
+
+"So much good, that the evil may disappear before it."
+
+"Alas, if I could do that! I have killed, and I am lacking the power to
+raise the dead."
+
+"And if you could nevertheless atone for your crime?"
+
+"Master, I hear your words, but their meaning is clouded for me; please
+speak plain to me, that I may understand you."
+
+"Jacopo, life and death are related together, which, however, a secret
+and indissoluble union connect with each other. Not for nothing have I
+put you to the test; when I visited this cursed place, when I sounded my
+gold pieces, it was only because I wanted to find out whether misery had
+also corrupted your soul."
+
+"Oh," replied Jacopo, contemptuously, "it does not say much to have
+remained an honest man."
+
+"You are too modest, Jacopo; I have found you again as I left you ten
+years ago; now, listen, will you accompany me?"
+
+Jacopo trembled all over.
+
+"Leave Marseilles?" muttered he, in half-suppressed words; "oh, master,
+if you only knew that it is my sole and only joy to wander on the
+strand, and to contemplate that blue ocean which swallowed her up!"
+
+"Jacopo, I have come here for the purpose of fetching you, as I am in
+want of you. I have to undertake difficulties; my way leads into foreign
+lands, on ways where death and crime are on the watch, and I have
+counted on your assistance. Shall I have been mistaken?"
+
+Instead of an answer Jacopo made a bow, and taking the hands of his
+master, kissed them.
+
+"Thanks, master," muttered he; "I am yours in body and soul!"
+
+"Good, Jacopo, I know you!"
+
+"When do we depart?"
+
+"To-morrow morning."
+
+"And where am I to meet you?"
+
+"On board of the Ice Bird."
+
+"I shall be there."
+
+"I depend on your word; remember my prophecy, that death is the fountain
+of life, and that your sin disappears when God gives you grace to save
+the lives of others! Farewell for to-day, by daybreak we meet again."
+
+Monte-Cristo left the liquor store, the Spider and Jacopo looked after
+him with a glimpse of new awakening hope in their eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+THE HUMORS OF A LADY-MILLIONNAIRE
+
+
+While Clary and her governess rode to Marseilles at a late hour, Madame
+Caraman was devoured with curiosity; but she was, nevertheless, sensible
+enough not to ask any question of her stubborn ward. When, however, the
+young girl spurred the horses continually on the governess felt uneasy;
+she had, besides, often the sensibility of a hen who has to bring up a
+young duck, and therefore she ventured to make slight objections against
+the uncommon maddening speed which, owing to her heavy size, became
+every moment more troublesome to her.
+
+"Clary, at this hour to ride to Marseilles! What would Lord Ellis say to
+it? I have undertaken a sacred cause, and--"
+
+"Do not trouble yourself, Mamma Caraman. I shall answer for all."
+
+"Also when we break our necks?"
+
+"Even then."
+
+The governess was silent, not because she felt convinced, but owing to
+the want of breath. By degrees she got used to her present situation,
+and one does not read Alexandre Dumas in vain. Could there be anything
+more romantic than this night trip? The moon lighted up trees and
+shrubs with a fine white light, and they thus appeared as spectres, who
+in a maddening quick fear fly along.
+
+"It is a great pity that he of blessed memory cannot behold me thus,"
+muttered Madame Caraman to herself; "he would, no doubt, have rejoiced
+over me."
+
+Now the town was reached, and Clary adopted a more moderate pace, while
+she and her companion turned into Troailles Street. Before a palace-like
+house a halt was made, and through Madame Caraman's head passed suddenly
+a correct supposition.
+
+"Ah, we intend then to pay a visit to the firm of Mortimer & Co.," said
+she, with surprise; "a strange hour, and the bank will probably not be
+open yet."
+
+Clary did not mind the remark, and she ordered the groom to get down
+from his horse and to knock. John, being used to obey punctually the
+orders of his young mistress, knocked with both fists at the closed
+gates, and Clary nodded her consent to it.
+
+"Listen, Clary," said Madame Caraman, suddenly; "there is dancing in the
+house."
+
+Indeed they could now plainly hear the sound of excellent music, and in
+the well lighted windows of the first story one could perceive here and
+there something like light shadows passing by.
+
+Ere Clary could answer, the porter appeared and opened the gates, asking
+the pleasure of the cavalcade.
+
+"Tell your master," said Clary, imperiously, "that I wish to speak to
+him at once."
+
+"Oh, dear, that is impossible," stuttered the servant, stupefied; "the
+office is closed, and will only be opened again to-morrow morning at
+eight o'clock."
+
+The porter was now ready to lock the gates again, but John had already,
+at a wink from his mistress, placed his horse between the gates, and,
+good or bad, they had to be left open.
+
+"Please ask your master to be kind enough to come down at once," said
+Mademoiselle Ellis, peremptorily.
+
+"Excuse me, mademoiselle, do you belong to the ball guests?" asked the
+man, shyly.
+
+"Ah, is there a ball in the house?"
+
+"Yes, mademoiselle; Mortimer & Co. give their only daughter in marriage
+to-day; if, then, mademoiselle is invited?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then mademoiselle came upon business matters?"
+
+"Yes, indeed."
+
+"Then I am really sorry that I cannot announce mademoiselle; my orders
+are very strict."
+
+"You refuse to obey me?"
+
+"I regret very much, but--"
+
+"In this case I must myself try to procure a hearing. Back!"
+
+Ere the frightened porter could hinder it, Clary had given the horse the
+spurs and they crossed the threshold. Madame Caraman followed
+courageously, and then they stopped in the midst of the vestibule,
+ornamented with exotic plants, candelabra, and various hangings of the
+richest and rarest description. A number of lackeys felt perplexed when
+they perceived so unexpectedly the beautiful horses stepping on the
+carpets placed in the fore-court; some dozens of hands were stretched
+out in order to stay the horses, but they played a wrong game.
+
+Not in vain was an ancestor of Miss Clary victorious in a combat with
+the Highlanders; her grandfather as well as her uncle had manfully
+subdued Tippoo Sahib, and her father had carried the victory at the last
+Derby. With her horsewhip she frightened the intruders, and Clary gave
+her horse the spurs again; in a moment the young girl and her governess
+rode upstairs! In the hall where the ball was given the _elite_ of the
+most elegant society in Marseilles were gathered together; all the
+notables which the English colony of that place could muster were there,
+as well as all those in high office, and also the moneyed aristocracy;
+in fact, everybody of standing felt glad to attend the marriage feast of
+the house of Mortimer & Co. Just now the sounds of a quadrille
+commenced, and the various pairs began to arrange themselves for the
+occasion, when the lackey in attendance was pushed aside and a horse's
+head looked inquisitively into the ball-room.
+
+It was a horse, surely and truly a horse--there was no doubt about that!
+The animal that put its proud-holding head into the ball-room had a
+silver bit, and its fine, cunning eye rested quite astonished upon the
+elegant company; who also, almost petrified with astonishment, came to a
+general standstill.
+
+The lady of the house broke into shrieks, while Mortimer with his hands
+prevented further intrusion.
+
+And yet what he saw was after all not so terrible, for an exquisitely
+beautiful young lady sat gracefully on the four-footed intruder, and a
+pair of provocative eyes shone brightly under a riding hat ornamented
+with rich feathers.
+
+The wife of Lot, however, could not have been more torpid than the
+company in Palais Mortimer, especially when behind the first horse's
+head a second one appeared, and Madame Caraman became visible.
+
+Mortimer thought he was dreaming. Was his ball-room then turned into a
+riding-school?
+
+Miss Ellis did not give him much time to become horrified; she bowed
+politely before the banker, and said:
+
+"Mr. Mortimer, if you please, I have to speak to you!"
+
+Well, although the banker was an Englishman he was not a friend of
+horses, and while he with some anxiety looked at the splendid horse and
+its rider, Clary's animal forgot its manners so far that it commenced
+without the least ceremony to scrape upon the heavy carpet as if it were
+in Hyde Park or Rotten Row, and also Madame Caraman's horse neglected
+the rules of etiquette in that manner that the trainers of his youth
+deserve punishment for having only partly fulfilled their duty.
+
+The dancing pairs stood, as far as it could be accomplished, quite safe
+in the background, and the older ladies and gentlemen quietly returned
+thanks to God, that it was Mr. Mortimer's house, and not theirs, in
+which this scene was played.
+
+"Mr. Mortimer," Clary began anew, "please come this way."
+
+The banker so far overcame his timidity that he put his eyeglass closer
+to his eye in order to look more exactly at the horses and their riders;
+and as soon as he recognized Clary he came forth resolutely. Oh, one is
+not a banker for nothing, and one knows what wealth amounting to a
+million pounds sterling really signifies!
+
+Mr. Mortimer forgot that two horses were in his ball-room destroying
+his carpets; he forgot that hundreds of eyes were turned expectantly
+toward him, and, waiting for the moment when he would show the bold
+intruders to the door. He made a low bow to Clary and inquired almost
+submissively:
+
+"I am at your service, Miss Ellis."
+
+"I have to speak to you, Mr. Mortimer; the affair cannot be put off."
+
+"I am ready for you," and pointing to the left, he continued: "Pray will
+you kindly accompany me to my office?"
+
+"With pleasure, but I should first like to leave the saddle."
+
+Ready to serve, the banker assisted the ladies to descend from their
+horses and walked in front of them to the office. The governess found
+the whole affair very amusing, and when Clary whispered to her to order
+John to take the horses in the yard, she nodded quite pleased; it was
+almost more interesting than a romance.
+
+In the meantime Mr. Mortimer's partner had risen from the whist-table,
+and wishing to be of some assistance, he saw that the horses in the
+stable were properly cared for, and then waited patiently to be called
+by his partner.
+
+This, however, did not immediately take place. Mr. Mortimer sat with his
+beautiful customer, for as such he considered Clary, whose bills he
+honored, and when she attempted some excuses for her "peculiar"
+intrusion, he replied smilingly:
+
+"If anybody is possessed of wealth such as Mademoiselle Clary can boast
+of, every eccentricity is excusable."
+
+"I am exceedingly obliged," said Clary laughing. "I should nevertheless
+not have chosen this course except through necessity. But in order to
+return to our business, I have to inform you of my demands."
+
+"No doubt: in the first instance, money! How much do you stand in need
+of?"
+
+"Am I at liberty to draw upon you for the sum of two hundred and fifty
+thousand francs, Mr. Mortimer?"
+
+"Pooh! a mere bagatelle; to-morrow morning it is at your disposal."
+
+"To-morrow morning? No, Mr. Mortimer, I am in want of it at once."
+
+"At once, mademoiselle? Impossible! The bank is closed."
+
+"Then order it to be opened."
+
+"But this is against the rules of our establishment!"
+
+"You will have to deviate from this rule on my account, unless you
+prefer to decline altogether to do business with me. Mr. Bradwood will,
+no doubt, be ready to take your place!"
+
+Bradwood, the rival, the _bete noire_ of the banking-house of Mortimer &
+Co.
+
+Mr. Mortimer's hair stood on end. No, that can and dare not be. Should
+he erase from his books the name of Lord Ellis of Crainburton? It would
+be a crime to think of such a thing! The transaction was certainly
+opposed to all rule and law; it was eleven o'clock in the evening, and
+at a time of the celebration of a festival, but what was to be done? Mr.
+Mortimer wrote a line, rang the bell, and when the servant entered gave
+him the note to deliver to Mr. Edwards.
+
+Mr. Edwards was the bridegroom, and if he said yes, then the banker
+would also say the same.
+
+"Your wish will be complied with, mademoiselle," said he, obligingly.
+"Have you, perhaps, any further requests to make?"
+
+"Not very many--only mere bagatelles. I depart to-morrow morning for
+Algiers," said Clary, with indifference, as if speaking about taking a
+walk somewhere.
+
+"For Algiers? H'm! the country is not bad, but the Frenchmen do not know
+much of colonization."
+
+Madame Caraman opened her eyes very wide; she began to understand.
+
+"I depart to-morrow morning early!" Clary coolly repeated.
+
+Mortimer put his finger thoughtfully across his forehead.
+
+"At daybreak, mademoiselle? Are you sure of it that to-morrow morning a
+vessel sails for that port? I am well acquainted with the departures of
+the various steamers--"
+
+"And you know, therefore, that none of them sails for Algiers,"
+interrupted Clary, laughing.
+
+"Well, then?" asked the banker in an animated manner.
+
+"Well, then, just on that account I have been looking for you."
+
+"Looking for me?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, you know all ship-brokers, and you will easily be able to
+help me out of my difficulties."
+
+"But I do not exactly understand."
+
+"Dear me, I am not speaking in the Coptic dialect!" exclaimed Clary,
+laughing. "I intend sailing to-morrow morning for Algiers. I have no
+vessel, and for that reason you will have to get me one."
+
+"What? You desire a vessel--"
+
+"Yes, yes. I am in want of a ship with captain, mate, sailors and
+boys--in short, with everything necessary for such an undertaking.
+To-morrow morning the ship, with steam up, must be ready for sailing, at
+the wharf of Marseilles. And now, please consider the matter; I am
+willing to allow you five minutes to do so."
+
+The banker thought he was dreaming. Was it possible for anybody to
+demand of him, of the firm of Mortimer & Co., a complete, well-equipped
+steamer as if he could shake it out of his sleeve?
+
+"Three minutes have already passed," reminded Clary, threatening with
+her finger.
+
+Mortimer was scratching his forehead almost despairingly. It was close
+upon midnight, all offices closed. Where could he procure a vessel?
+
+"The five minutes have passed," said Clary, coolly, rising to her feet.
+
+Madame Caraman breathed more easily when she took hold of the
+door-handle; now the nonsensical plan was defeated.
+
+"Pray do not trouble your cashier any further," remarked Clary, standing
+on the threshold. "I shall find somewhere else what I am in need of."
+
+"But, mademoiselle," groaned Mortimer, before whose eyes Bradwood's
+figure appeared like a spectre, "you are demanding impossibilities of
+me."
+
+"Mr. Mortimer," said Clary, with indifference, "two hundred years ago
+one of my ancestors pointed to the city of Edinburgh and said to his
+captain:
+
+"'In two hours I desire to dine at the bishop's palace in Edinburgh!'
+
+"The city was fortified, and from the walls the cannons spread their
+deadly fire; but the captain did not say it was impossible, but he
+inquired:
+
+"'What does your lordship desire to have for dinner?'
+
+"Two hours later my ancestor dined in the bishop's palace; the captain,
+of course, lost his life in the combat. Come, Madame Caraman."
+
+"With pleasure," replied the governess, and both ladies left the office.
+
+"Mademoiselle," sounded despairingly behind them.
+
+"Well?" asked Clary, stopping.
+
+"I do not promise for certain," stammered Mortimer, "but I believe--"
+
+"Vessel, captain, mate, and sailors."
+
+"Yes, dear me, yes," groaned Mortimer, dropping exhausted into a chair.
+
+"And to-morrow at daybreak--"
+
+"It will, no doubt, be possible to comply with your request."
+
+"Especially be careful in selecting a captain; and the broker will have
+to sell me the ship."
+
+"This transaction also will be carried out."
+
+"Well, then, please arrange everything; my time is very limited."
+
+Madame Caraman gazed despairingly at the banker; he was really ready to
+lend his hand to such a stupid affair?
+
+"No, I do not give my permission," she at length resolutely declared. "I
+have obligations toward Lord Ellis, and I object to it."
+
+Clary took the governess's head, kissed her heartily, and whispered to
+her:
+
+"Be persuaded, Mamma Caraman. I desire it, and therefore we depart."
+
+Submitting to Providence, she bent her head down; she was consoled.
+
+"Do not lose time, Mr. Mortimer," she then said, respectfully, "it has
+to be."
+
+Now a slender-built man, with rosy cheeks and red beard, entered the
+office; it was the bridegroom.
+
+"Here is the amount required," said he, handing the banker a packet of
+bank-notes.
+
+"Are the bank-notes legal tender in Algiers?" asked Clary.
+
+Father-in-law and son-in-law looked upon her pitifully; they were Bank
+of England notes, which even a Greenlander would expect to have cashed
+on sight.
+
+"Edwards," said the banker, vivaciously, "is Wharton in the ball-room?"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"Tell him to come here directly."
+
+"Who is Wharton?" asked Clary.
+
+"The only man I can trust to leave a ball at midnight to get a ship
+ready for sailing. It will be a dear affair though."
+
+Clary laughed.
+
+"Mr. Mortimer, am I rich enough to pay this Wharton?"
+
+"Oh, with your fortune you could buy a thousand Whartons."
+
+"And he will do all I ask of him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Good! Wharton is my man. One thing more, Mr. Mortimer. You have the
+confidence of my family. I will give you a power of attorney to do with
+my fortune what you wish in case--"
+
+"In case?"
+
+"I do not return from Algeria."
+
+"Oh, mademoiselle!" exclaimed Mortimer, with emotion. "Are you going to
+run such dangers?"
+
+"I do not say that, but business is business, and I always like to have
+things in order."
+
+"Here is Mr. Wharton," said the son-in-law.
+
+The person who entered was a man of herculean stature. His thick head
+was covered with bushy red hair.
+
+Clary looked curiously at the giant.
+
+"Are you an Englishman, Mr. Wharton?" she asked.
+
+"No, an American from Baltimore, miss, and your humble servant."
+
+"Mademoiselle," interrupted Mortimer, "will you please explain to Mr.
+Wharton the nature of the business?"
+
+"Willingly. Will you take a seat, please?"
+
+"Thank you," replied the Yankee, "I prefer to stand."
+
+"Mr. Wharton, you have a ship at anchor at Marseilles?"
+
+"A ship, no, a pearl--the Crocodile--which is famous all over the world
+for its stanchness and rapidity."
+
+"You own it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How much did it cost you, Mr. Wharton?"
+
+"How much did it cost me? That is a peculiar question," muttered the
+American.
+
+"Captain," said Clary, rising, "I am rich, very rich. I am going to make
+you a proposition, and hope you will accept it. What price do you ask
+for the Crocodile?"
+
+"But the Crocodile is not for sale. I would rather die than give up my
+ship."
+
+The captain paced up and down the room with giant strides and struck his
+forehead with his fist. The proposition, together with the liquors he
+had drunk, excited him.
+
+"Let us say 100,000 francs," said Clary.
+
+The captain continued to strike his forehead.
+
+"One hundred and twenty thousand francs."
+
+The strokes became weaker.
+
+"A good business," said Mortimer.
+
+"And you shall not be separated from your beloved Crocodile," said
+Clary, laughingly; "for as soon as I become the owner of the vessel, I
+shall make you its captain."
+
+"I'll accept the offer."
+
+"Good; Mr. Mortimer will pay you the money."
+
+"Willingly," said the banker, "as soon as everything is arranged."
+
+"That shall be done at once," exclaimed the giant, gleefully; "and,
+miss, give me your hand to bind the bargain."
+
+The young girl became frightened; if the giant were to grasp her slender
+fingers he might crush them, and yet she knew that the shake of the hand
+was the usual mode sailors chose to bind a bargain. Hesitatingly she
+held forth her hand, but Wharton, who guessed her anxiety, laid his fist
+in hers in as gentle a manner as possible. The girl laughed and said:
+
+"Captain, have steam up at once!"
+
+"Yes, miss; but the ball?"
+
+"The ball is a secondary matter. You are my captain, and, naturally--"
+
+"You are right. I didn't care for the ball, anyhow. It was only the fine
+brandy I thought of."
+
+"I will tell Mr. Mortimer to let you have a few bottles. Captain, when
+does the sun rise to-morrow?"
+
+"At 6.18 A.M."
+
+"Good; at 6.19 you can depart."
+
+"You will be satisfied with me. You have got a good captain, a boatswain
+and eight sailors. I am the smallest of the lot. Where are we going to,
+anyway?"
+
+"To Algiers, captain. There is one thing more I wish to say."
+
+"Speak, commodore."
+
+"Have you noticed a yacht in the harbor? the flag is a gold mountain on
+a red field."
+
+"Yes, the little peanut-shell," he said, disdainfully, "which is called
+the Ice Bird."
+
+"Yes, the Ice Bird. This peanut-shell, as you call it, starts to-morrow
+morning for Algeria. Whether it intends to stop at Bona or Algiers I do
+not know. You would do well to find out."
+
+"I will do so," said Wharton.
+
+"Then good-by, and remember to-morrow."
+
+When the ladies rode home the governess sighed.
+
+"Oh, miss, what will Lord Ellis say?"
+
+"That my brother has now a chance to come into the inheritance," laughed
+Miss Clary.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+MALDAR
+
+
+Haydee and Mercedes were seated in a magnificently furnished boudoir,
+engaged in a lively conversation. Spero's dark head lay in his mother's
+lap. They were both talking of their beloved ones. Mercedes said, that
+if Albert died her life would be at an end. Haydee only thought of
+Spero.
+
+Spero, too, thought about the seriousness of his position, and was in
+this, as in other things, far in advance of his age. He felt deep
+despair at the idea of a separation from his mother, but the halo which
+surrounded his father gave the boy courage.
+
+Six o'clock had now struck. Haydee's arm clung tighter to Spero, and a
+tear fell upon the youth's dark locks.
+
+Monte-Cristo softly opened the door and entered. His face looked pale
+and careworn. Spero ran to meet his father. The count took him in his
+arms and softly asked:
+
+"Are you ready, my son?"
+
+"Yes, father," replied Spero, simply; "where you go, I follow."
+
+Haydee hurriedly dried her tears as Monte-Cristo drew nearer. She clung
+to his bosom, and whispered:
+
+"Am I to lose you both? If I only knew when you were going to return."
+
+The count turned to Mercedes.
+
+"Mercedes," he said to Albert's mother, "you see I do not shrink from
+any sacrifice when it is a question of duty. Love my Haydee and console
+her. She needs it."
+
+"I swear it," replied Mercedes, solemnly; and, clasping Haydee in her
+arms, she added: "There is still time, Haydee; tell me, 'My husband and
+my child should stay here,' and I shall acquiesce in it."
+
+"You hear her words, Haydee," said Monte-Cristo, casting an anxious look
+at Ali Tebelen's daughter. "What is your answer?"
+
+Haydee's beautiful face was illuminated with a halo as she took Spero's
+arm and led him to his father.
+
+"Be worthy of him," she whispered, with emotion.
+
+Mercedes sank sobbing at the young wife's feet, and exclaimed:
+
+"Now I shall get my son back again; I feel it."
+
+The count finished all his preparations and chose the best weapons. He
+went with Spero to the dock the next morning, and was met by Jacopo, who
+looked like a different person.
+
+"Have you inspected everything?" asked Monte-Cristo of the Corsican.
+"And are you satisfied?"
+
+"Yes, master."
+
+"How many men have you?"
+
+"Ten, sir; they are all trustworthy and have travelled in Africa before.
+I can answer for them."
+
+"Good. Ah! there you are, Coucou," said the count, turning to the
+Zouave. "I am glad that you are punctual."
+
+The count inspected the yacht and expressed his delight to Jacopo.
+
+The Crocodile was also lying, ready to sail, in the harbor. Wharton,
+confident of overtaking the Ice Bird, paced up and down the deck,
+rubbing his hands and from time to time casting contemptuous glances at
+the yacht.
+
+From all the towers of Marseilles the seventh morning hour was rung. The
+count gave the signal for the departure, and the Ice Bird glided
+gracefully through the waters.
+
+Monte-Cristo stood on deck looking back at France, where a part of his
+heart was left behind.
+
+He had been talking with Spero for over an hour about their future
+plans, when a sudden commotion was heard, and the count, who was a
+strict disciplinarian, looked angrily about. Before he had time to
+inquire about the cause of the noise, a heavy mass came rolling down the
+cabin stairs. The count opened the door and saw the Zouave and another
+strange looking person, lying like a ball of cord on the floor. They
+both rose, but the Zouave would not let go of the other's throat at any
+price. The stranger was dressed in rags, and his thin, haggard face and
+glaring eyes made a disagreeable impression.
+
+"What is the meaning of this, Coucou?" asked the count, angrily.
+
+"Captain," the Zouave breathlessly replied, "I know I did wrong, but I
+could not help it. Just look at the face of this fellow."
+
+Monte-Cristo looked searchingly at the man.
+
+"Where did you pick him up?" he asked of the Zouave.
+
+"In the engine room, close to the boiler. His brain must be half roasted
+already."
+
+A cloud passed over the count's face.
+
+"Who are you?" he said, turning to the stranger.
+
+The man remained motionless. It was plain he did not understand the
+question.
+
+The count now saw that the man was an Arabian, and repeated the question
+in that tongue.
+
+"I am a poor man," the stranger submissively replied.
+
+"How did you get to the ship?"
+
+The Arabian was silent.
+
+Monte-Cristo looked at the man again, and soon comprehended that the man
+was a hypocrite and an impostor.
+
+Either the man was poor and had no money to go back to his home or else
+he was a spy.
+
+"You were in France?" the count suddenly said to the Arabian; "how did
+you get there?"
+
+"In one of the ships of your nation."
+
+"How long ago is that?"
+
+"Woe to him who counts the days and hours."
+
+"Why did you not come to me? Were you afraid I would refuse to take you
+on board?"
+
+"Was I to beg?" asked the Arabian, disdainfully.
+
+"What would you do if I were to put you adrift in a bark?"
+
+"Allah is great!"
+
+Coucou understood enough of Arabian to comprehend the pride which lay in
+the stranger's words. He would have given anything to have been able to
+carry out the count's threats; he advanced a step, but Monte-Cristo saw
+his intention and motioned him back.
+
+"Man," he said to the Arab, "you did wrong to put yourself in my power.
+Nevertheless, I shall be hospitable to you. Go!"
+
+Turning to Coucou, he said:
+
+"This man is my guest, and as such he must be sacred to you."
+
+The Arab bowed, put his hand to his forehead, and turned toward the
+stairs.
+
+"One question more," said the count; "what is your name?"
+
+"I am called Maldar."
+
+"You said you were poor, and yet your name signifies riches."
+
+"He whom Allah protects is rich," replied the Arab, in veiled tones.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+MISS CLARY'S SECRET
+
+
+For any one else but Miss Clary Ellis, it would be no small matter to
+make such a journey; but she knew no fear, and in spite of the frail
+expression of her face, there was no hindrance she could not overcome
+when she wished to carry out a project. Her governess murmured when she
+ordered her to get everything ready. According to her it was madness to
+go to a "monkey-land," as she termed Africa. But Miss Clary paid no
+attention to her, but went right on packing her trunks, and at four
+o'clock she was all ready.
+
+She now called for John. This paragon of a servant would rather have cut
+off his tongue and hands than ask a question.
+
+"John," said Clary, "have the horses harnessed."
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+"See that these trunks are carried down to the carriage."
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+"We shall leave Marseilles."
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+"We go to Algeria; if you have any preparations to make, do so."
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+Had John been told that they were to start on a voyage to the moon, he
+would have answered in his stereotyped way: "Yes, my lady."
+
+Five minutes later the carriage was at the door.
+
+"It is serious, then," sighed the governess. "We are going to Algeria,
+then. Do you know, Clary, I have been weak to give in so?"
+
+Clary did not reply, and Madame Caraman, encouraged by her silence,
+continued:
+
+"Suppose an accident should happen to you, I would not survive the blow,
+for I love you. Wait another day, and if you still persist in your
+determination, I am satisfied."
+
+When the governess had ended, Clary offered her her hand, and mockingly
+said:
+
+"If you do not survive the shock of my death, you will not have to
+answer for it."
+
+"No, no; prove to me that I am wrong."
+
+"God forbid! You are right; but nevertheless--"
+
+"Stick to your plan, then; but suppose I do not accompany you?"
+
+"It would cause me great grief, but could not alter my resolution. I am
+young, Madame Caraman, very rich, and wish to enjoy life for once--no
+one loves me--"
+
+"Ah, Clary, you have a heart of gold," sobbed Madame Caraman.
+
+"Accompany me to Algeria, Madame Caraman; I need your consolation and
+comforting care. I go there to perform a good action."
+
+Madame Caraman looked keenly at Clary. The latter blushed, and
+continued:
+
+"Mercedes deplores the loss of her son, and I desire to restore him to
+her if it is possible. Think what joy will be mine if Albert flies to
+the arms of his mother and I can proudly say: 'This is my work.'"
+
+The governess pondered deeply, and Clary, who was deceived by her
+silence, impetuously exclaimed:
+
+"Mamma Caraman, answer me. Have I not expressed myself clearly? I have
+never been of service to any one. Yet, while there are people who offer
+up their lives and their energies to help others, is it a sin for me to
+desire to do likewise?"
+
+"You mean, by that, the Count of Monte-Cristo?" replied Madame Caraman,
+thoughtfully.
+
+Clary blushed.
+
+"Yes," she said, softly. "The count is my model."
+
+"And you wish to follow this 'model' to Africa?"
+
+"There is a good deed to be done there, and I, who have nothing to lose,
+shall follow him."
+
+Madame Caraman looked smilingly at her.
+
+"I see," she said, simply, "there is nothing to be done but to let you
+have your way."
+
+Clary had expected more resistance. She burst into tears, and threw her
+arms around Madame Caraman's neck, and the governess tenderly kissed the
+young girl.
+
+John now opened the door, and told them the carriage was ready.
+
+"Forward!" exclaimed Madame Caraman, cheerfully, "and let us pray to God
+that we return again in good health."
+
+On the way to the harbor, Clary wept silently. Madame Caraman wisely
+kept her thoughts to herself.
+
+"I was once young myself," she muttered to herself, "and I know how it
+looks in an eighteen-year-old girl's heart. Yes, if I were twenty years
+younger, I don't know but that I would fall in love with this Count of
+Monte-Cristo myself."
+
+Had Madame Caraman discovered Clary's secret?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+AN AMERICAN WAGER
+
+
+Jack Wharton was not one of those men who mean something else than what
+they say. His whole vocabulary was either "Yes" or "No," just as the
+circumstances were. When Clary arrived at the harbor at seven o'clock,
+she found a troop of giants awaiting her, who stood in line like
+Prussian grenadiers. Wharton moved his hat, and said:
+
+"You see, my lady, we are punctual."
+
+"I did not expect anything else," Clary simply replied, "and please see
+that my luggage is carefully brought on board--and nothing broken," she
+added, as she cast a glance at the broad forms of the sailors.
+
+Wharton promised to carry out her orders faithfully.
+
+"Have you never had any adventures, captain?" she asked. "I should like
+to know something about your wife."
+
+"Mrs. Wharton is a pearl--she was a widow when I married her--"
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Yes," continued Wharton, indifferently; "I ate up her first husband; he
+was a splendid fellow."
+
+Saying which he opened the carriage door and assisted the ladies on
+board the boat. Clary, as she stood on deck, noticed a gold-colored flag
+flying from a staff.
+
+"What does the color of that flag mean?" she asked.
+
+"Ah, my lady, as our commodore has gold blond hair, I permitted myself
+to hoist up flags of the same color."
+
+"Well, I must say," said Madame Caraman, "that beats Sir Walter
+Raleigh's gallantry; you know he placed his gold-embroidered mantle in
+the mud for Queen Elizabeth to walk upon."
+
+At this moment a tall, lean figure as graceful as a mast loomed up on
+deck.
+
+"Mrs. Wharton," said the captain, proudly.
+
+Clary and her governess shuddered as they looked at Mrs. Wharton.
+
+The copper-colored face of the woman looked like the broken hilt of a
+knife; her coal-black hair gleaming with oil was tied in a knot at the
+back of her head; the large mouth did not hide the still larger yellow
+teeth and the flat nose was bored with holes. Her ears were decorated
+with three gold rings apiece. Her dress consisted of a dark red skirt,
+fastened at the waist by a gold cord. Her decollete waist allowed the
+brown skin to be perceived, and her flat feet were inclosed in
+moccasins. Yet, in spite of Minnie Wharton's repulsive appearance, her
+husband loved her.
+
+As soon as Mrs. Wharton saw the two ladies she invited them, in a voice
+which sounded like the croak of a raven, to her cabin. They were both
+astonished when they entered it to find it a beautifully furnished
+boudoir, whose silk hangings and bric-a-brac made it look more like a
+parlor of the Faubourg St. Germain than a ship's cabin.
+
+"The ladies will excuse me," said Minnie, "but the time was short and I
+could do no better."
+
+"You do not mean," exclaimed Clary, surprised, "that you did everything
+during the night?"
+
+"The captain did not get back until midnight, and I hurriedly purchased
+the things in the stores of Marseilles."
+
+Clary thought it was a tale out of the "Arabian Nights."
+
+Wharton had thought it a question of honor to show the young lady that
+she had not paid too dearly for the Crocodile, and had he been able to
+take down the moon, he would have hung it as a night-lamp in her cabin.
+The captain and his wife had scoured the shops of Marseilles at one in
+the morning and bought all the things, paying dearly for them. The room
+of Madame Caraman was also a model of neatness. Next to the bed stood a
+small table, upon which was a silver service with a bottle of brandy on
+it. Madame Caraman was delighted, and when her sense of smell detected
+the fine quality of the brandy, she was almost moved to tears.
+
+A head appeared in the doorway, and the captain said:
+
+"My lady, the Ice Bird left ten minutes ago, and five minutes later the
+Crocodile lifted anchor."
+
+"Good, captain. You are sure of being able to over-take the Ice Bird?"
+
+"Leave that to me, my lady."
+
+The captain now thought that the time for dining had come, and invited
+the ladies into a charming little room.
+
+"Captain, you are a magician," exclaimed the young girl, laughing. "Such
+a beautiful dining-room, and flowers too," she added, as she perceived a
+huge bank of flowers.
+
+"Oh, what lovely flowers," she exclaimed delightedly.
+
+"Mrs. Wharton is the magician, my lady," replied the captain; "and now
+please be seated."
+
+"Directly," replied Clary laughing; "but first permit me to beg your
+wife and yourself to join us."
+
+Two more covers were placed on the table.
+
+The breakfast was a substantial English meal, and consisted of tea,
+coffee, eggs and ham. They were all tasty dishes. The conversation was
+very lively until Mrs. Wharton arose and begged to be excused as she had
+other duties to perform.
+
+"Ah, my Minnie is a pearl," murmured Wharton, looking tenderly back at
+her.
+
+"You seem to be much attached to each other," said Clary, cordially.
+
+"Oh, my lady, how could it be otherwise? We have not been separated from
+each other since twenty years; we have common remembrances which we can
+never forget."
+
+"If I am not mistaken, you said before that Mrs. Wharton was a widow?"
+
+"Yes, the widow of a Sioux."
+
+"And did she belong to the same tribe?"
+
+"Yes, my lady, but she is long since a Christian."
+
+"And who was her husband?"
+
+"A Sioux, poor Tu-Sam-Ba."
+
+"And how did he die, you say?"
+
+"I ate him up, my lady."
+
+"Ah, really?"
+
+"Yes," said Wharton, sorrowfully; "his wife and I ate him up, and
+through this circumstance Minnie became a widow."
+
+Natural as it seemed to the captain, Madame Caraman gazed in open
+horror, and as soon as she could recover the use of her tongue, she
+asked for explanations.
+
+The captain was not loth to tell his story, and just as he was settling
+himself comfortably in a chair, Clary exclaimed:
+
+"Before you begin, captain, take a look at the yacht."
+
+"I shall," said Wharton, "but you can rest easy and trust in the
+Crocodile."
+
+The captain disappeared, and Madame Caraman, turning to Clary, said:
+
+"We have come among strange people."
+
+"We had no other choice, and we might have fared worse."
+
+"Well, I'm much obliged for the consolation--cannibals!"
+
+Clary was silent. What could she have answered?
+
+In about ten minutes the captain returned out of breath.
+
+"Think of it," he said; "these stupid firemen have not put on enough
+steam, and when I came on deck--"
+
+"The Ice Bird was far away," interrupted Clary.
+
+"I cannot deny it, but it will be all right."
+
+"And your promise?"
+
+"Ah, my lady, I would like to make you a wager."
+
+"A wager?"
+
+"Yes, that when we arrive at Bona, the Ice Bird will not be visible."
+
+"Good."
+
+"And now let me continue with the story of my marriage--"
+
+"Oh, yes; I should like to know more about your wedding supper," said
+Madame Caraman.
+
+The captain lighted a cigar and began:
+
+"In the first place, ladies, you must know that I have not always been
+rich. I have not got a million yet, but I am in comfortable
+circumstances, so to speak. Twenty-five years ago I had not a dollar in
+the world. I did everything, but could not succeed in anything. In
+November, 1825, I was absolutely penniless, and one of my comrades, Dick
+Merton, who was as badly off as myself, made a proposition to me to go
+to California. At that time California was still hardly explored.
+
+"'I will go along,' I said, in answer to Dick's proposition.
+
+"'You know the peril, Jack,' he replied. 'You might be in danger of
+being captured by the Indians and eaten up.'
+
+"At any other time, and under different circumstances, I might have
+hesitated, but my position was a desperate one, and I accepted. The next
+day, armed to the teeth, we started. We were eight when we started. When
+we reached San Francisco only five of us were left. One was killed by
+the bite of a snake, and the rest fell down the precipices of the Rocky
+Mountains. At that time none of the comforts and luxuries to be found
+there to-day existed. We worked with pick and axe, and stilled our
+hunger with the wild animals we killed. Two weeks later trouble arose in
+the camp. Some of our party maintained that we had chosen a bad place,
+because the gold did not pan out as well as they had hoped. Others again
+persisted in upholding the spot selected. The upshot of the matter was,
+that we parted. I and two others remained, the rest departing in a
+westerly direction.
+
+"We built a block-house. It was situated under the shadow of a gigantic
+cedar-tree and protected us from the wind and rain. All went along
+swimmingly until one day I heard a yell of joy from Dick. I ran toward
+him, and to my surprise I saw a vein of gold, which, at a superficial
+calculation, must be worth a million dollars. We danced about for joy.
+Very soon Osborne, our third companion, came. We returned to our hut,
+and after drinking a large quantity of whiskey in honor of the event, we
+went to bed. As usual, we were fully dressed with our weapons in our
+hands ready for any emergency. How long I slept I do not know, but I was
+suddenly awakened by a loud yell, which still rings in my ears. Starting
+up, I looked around and beheld Osborne staring with wide-open mouth at
+something which lay in a corner.
+
+"'What is the matter?' I asked.
+
+"Osborne did not reply, but pointed to a corner near the door. I looked
+in the direction indicated, and by the dim light of the lamp saw to my
+horror--a rattlesnake. I looked around for Dick; he was leaning against
+the wall, his face ghastly pale. Before I was aware of it Dick had
+kicked in the strong door. Osborne must have had the same idea for he
+too rushed for the door. They both reached the threshold at the same
+time.
+
+"The door was too narrow to allow them both to pass; Dick seized
+Osborne by the throat; a struggle ensued, and the next minute Osborne
+sank to the ground with Dick's bowie-knife plunged up to the hilt in his
+breast. The snake, aroused by the noise, sprang up and struck Dick a
+deadly blow.
+
+"In a moment he was in convulsions."
+
+Wharton paused. The perspiration stood on his forehead and the muscles
+of his lips twitched. Clary buried her face in her hands, and Madame
+Caraman prevented herself from fainting by taking a glass of brandy.
+
+"I beg your pardon, ladies," the captain proceeded, "but the memory of
+that awful time overcame me. I am no coward, but the terrible sight
+unmanned me. The rattlesnake looked at me with its hideous eyes. The
+fear of death nerved me, and seizing my gun I discharged it full at the
+monster and then lost consciousness. When I recovered next morning and
+saw the dead bodies of Dick and Osborne I broke into tears."
+
+"Captain," interrupted Clary, "your tale is so interesting that one is
+apt to forget, but--"
+
+"But what?" asked Wharton expectantly.
+
+"I am anxious to know how many knots the Crocodile is making."
+
+"Ah! I was not thinking of that. I am sure of my ship."
+
+"So much the better; let us go on deck."
+
+"And my story?"
+
+"Can be continued later on; I am to know yet how the Indian's widow
+became your wife."
+
+Wharton preceded the ladies to the deck. He knew his ship and had no
+fears. The weather was magnificent and the vessel's sails were swelled
+by the breeze. Clary looked in every direction to catch a glimpse of the
+Ice Bird, but could not see it.
+
+"Captain, where is the Ice Bird?" she said, turning to Wharton.
+
+"The Ice Bird? It's far behind. How could it compare in speed with the
+Crocodile?"
+
+"Are you sure of it?"
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+"Please ask one of the sailors!"
+
+Wharton did so, and was astonished when he was told that the
+"peanut-shell," as he called the Ice Bird, made twenty-three knots an
+hour, whereas the Crocodile made only twelve. The long face he made at
+this announcement caused Clary to burst into a loud laugh.
+
+"You see it is folly to attempt to overtake the Count of Monte-Cristo,"
+said Madame Caraman to Clary; "if you follow my advice, return to
+Marseilles, where we can wait for news of the Ice Bird and--"
+
+"Go back?" interrupted Clary. "Never!"
+
+"But Monte-Cristo will arrive before us, and two hours after his arrival
+at Bona he will be on his way to the desert, and you do not intend to
+follow him there among the lions, tigers and jackals, do you?"
+
+"Mamma Caraman, if you are afraid, you can go back to France," said
+Clary, gently.
+
+Captain Wharton now came back.
+
+"Well," said Clary to him, "what's to be done?"
+
+"We will overtake the Ice Bird, and all of us will be at your service
+and not leave you until you discharge us yourself. Will that do?"
+
+"Captain," said Clary, "I am afraid you are promising too much again."
+
+"Oh, no; this time I am confident of success."
+
+"But can you answer for your men?"
+
+Wharton blew a whistle. All the crew appeared.
+
+"Men," he said, turning to the sailors, "are you going to stand by me
+and follow me wherever the ship goes?"
+
+"Yes!" they cried in chorus.
+
+"Are you satisfied, my lady?" asked the captain, triumphantly.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Where are we to go?" asked the captain.
+
+"To the interior of Africa, in fact in the neighborhood of the Sahara."
+
+"Good, commodore," replied the captain.
+
+"The captain," she said, turning to the men, "shall pay you whatever you
+demand. All I ask of you is devotion."
+
+"We swear it!" shouted the sailors, enthusiastically swinging their
+caps.
+
+Mrs. Wharton approached the young lady and said:
+
+"Have you forgiven the captain, miss?"
+
+"Long since, Mrs. Wharton," replied Clary, grasping her hand.
+
+Clary and Madame Caraman withdrew to their boudoir.
+
+"Don't you think it rather dangerous to be in the society of these
+people?" asked Madame Caraman.
+
+"Have no fear, Mamma Caraman; I answer for everything."
+
+"One question more, dear child. What was the cause of your apparent
+indifference to-day, when you heard that the Ice Bird had distanced the
+Crocodile?"
+
+Clary blushed deeply, and throwing her arms about Madame Caraman's
+neck, whispered:
+
+"I confess it did not surprise me. I did not wish to wound Monte-Cristo
+by overtaking him."
+
+"Monte-Cristo," murmured Madame Caraman; "ah, my darling, take care."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+THE WEDDING BREAKFAST
+
+
+The Crocodile sped swiftly along that day. Clary, who had become tired,
+went to sleep, while the governess sat in a chair near the bed and
+dreamed.
+
+The night passed, and the next morning Clary asked the captain whether
+they were in sight of land.
+
+"Yes," replied the captain.
+
+"And how long will it be before we enter the harbor?"
+
+"About two hours."
+
+"Good. Let me make you a proposition. We can dine now, and you can tell
+us the conclusion of your story."
+
+An hour later dinner was concluded, and the captain continued his
+narrative.
+
+"At the moment I put foot on the threshold of the cabin I heard a
+peculiar noise, and at the same moment an arrow flew past my head and
+lodged itself in the door. Where had the arrow come from? What to do I
+knew not. Suddenly an inspiration came to me. The cabin was pretty
+solidly built, and the roof was constructed of thick canewood. Around
+the four sides were thick planks, which offered me shelter in case of
+an attack. That my enemies were Indians I felt sure. I locked the door,
+barricaded it from the inside, and felt sorry that the rattlesnake was
+dead, for it would have been a splendid weapon against the Indians.
+Going up to the roof, and lying flat on my stomach, I peered out. I
+shuddered when I saw my enemies. They were Indians of the worst kind.
+With the Sioux and Chippewas we had kept up friendly relations, but
+these were Arikaras, our bitterest foes. This tribe were deadly enemies
+of the whites, and the refined cruelty with which they tortured their
+prisoners made them feared by all. They were all armed with muskets, and
+numbered about fifty warriors. At the rear of the group I saw two Sioux.
+One was a man and the other a woman. The man was Tu-Sam-Ba; the woman,
+his wife, the 'Prairie Flower,' the present Mrs. Wharton. They seemed to
+be prisoners, and when I thought of the custom of the Arikaras to roast
+their prisoners alive, a thrill of horror ran through my veins. The
+attitude of the 'Prairie Flower' was so noble that she immediately won
+my heart. 'Either you or no one,' I thought, and firmly resolved to
+attempt the rescue of my angel."
+
+The "angel" tried in vain to allay her husband's excitement. Madame
+Caraman could hardly restrain her laughter whenever she looked at the
+angel. Clary, on the other hand, preserved her gravity, and calmly said:
+
+"I appreciate your feelings, captain; continue."
+
+Wharton bowed profoundly and proceeded.
+
+"The Arikaras surrounded the cabin, while I lay motionless, with my hand
+on the trigger of my gun. The savages now began to break in the door
+and soon effected an entrance. Immediately I heard a loud noise. They
+had discovered the two dead bodies and the rattlesnake. They thought the
+two whites had killed the rattlesnake, which is regarded as a sacred
+animal by them, and that Manitou, their god, had struck them dead. A
+place which Manitou visits is sacred to them, and I thought that they
+would leave the hut. An ugly Indian, who seemed to be the chief,
+commanded silence and delivered a long speech to his subjects. At its
+conclusion the Indians moved about and began to gather brushwood. They
+piled it in heaps on the floor of the cabin and the chief set fire to
+it. Presently the smell of burning flesh reached me. They were burning
+Dick and Osborne's bodies. At the same moment a bright flame licked the
+roof, my gun exploded in consequence of the heat, and, half dead with
+fright, I fell into the middle of the group. My fate was settled now.
+They surrounded me, bound me with cords, and with wild yells they rushed
+out bearing me along. I--"
+
+"Captain," interrupted Clary, "don't you think we have reached Bona
+yet?"
+
+"No," replied Wharton, vivaciously, "not before the next two hours."
+
+Clary laughed loudly, and the captain saw that he had committed a
+blunder.
+
+"I fainted," continued the captain, "and when I came to my senses it was
+pitch dark and I lay on the ground, bound hand and foot. By the
+flickering light of a camp-fire I saw the Arikaras sitting around and
+calmly smoking their pipes. Tu-Sam-Ba was tied to a post, while the
+Prairie Flower crouched at his feet. I determined to speak to the
+Indians, and gathering courage, I exclaimed in the English language:
+
+"'Comrades, do you intend to let me starve? Have I done you any wrong?'
+
+"'You are an enemy of our race. You killed the sacred serpent.'
+
+"'Should I have waited then until it had killed me?'
+
+"'You have killed,' exclaimed one redskin, 'and you will be killed in
+your turn.'
+
+"The chief now claimed my scalp. It was awarded to him. While the
+redskins were carrying on a war-dance, I again lost consciousness. I did
+not awake until I felt a hand pressed lightly on my forehead. It was the
+'Prairie Flower.'
+
+"'Tu-Sam-Ba is dead,' she softly whispered; 'he was roasted. Arikaras
+surprised--escaped!'
+
+"She raised me from the ground, and, carrying me in her arms as if I had
+been a child, she brought me to a glade in the forest.
+
+"'I am hungry,' I said, pointing to my mouth.
+
+"The woman looked at me for a moment in despair, and shrugged her
+shoulders to indicate to me that there was no hotel in the
+neighborhood."
+
+At this point of the story Mrs. Wharton disappeared, and Madame Caraman
+took advantage of her absence to ask a question.
+
+"Has Minnie changed much since that time?"
+
+"Oh, yes," replied the captain, his face lighting up with pleasure, "she
+has grown much handsomer."
+
+This was too much for Madame Caraman's composure, and, coughing loudly,
+she pressed a handkerchief to her lips and vanished through the door.
+
+The captain looked wonderingly after her, and, turning to Clary, said:
+
+"My lady, I had much rather be alone with you! Not every one is able to
+appreciate the sacrifice Mrs. Wharton made for me."
+
+"Please continue your story."
+
+"Suddenly," said Wharton, taking up the thread of his story, "the squaw
+vanished, but returned soon after with a package carefully enveloped in
+leaves. She removed the leaves, and, with a light sob, handed me several
+pieces of roasted meat.
+
+"I took them eagerly and ate ravenously of the food, which was very
+tasty. Seeing her melancholy looks, I asked her to partake of some. She
+shook her head.
+
+"'I am not hungry,' she softly murmured.
+
+"'Then I shall not eat any more,' I declared.
+
+"Seeing me determined, she hesitated no longer, and joined me in the
+meal. When we had finished, I asked her where she had procured the meat,
+and, with bowed head, she replied:
+
+"'Tu-Sam-Ba roasted--Arikaras disturbed--did not eat--Tu-Sam-Ba,
+Sioux--my husband.'
+
+"Good God! I had eaten her husband, and the Prairie Flower had not
+hesitated to serve him up roasted to me! My lady, is there anything in
+history equal to this!"
+
+"No, I know of none," replied Clary, hurriedly.
+
+"Ah, I knew it; I--"
+
+"Captain," said a sailor, opening the door, "we are nearing the harbor
+of Bona."
+
+Clary rose hastily; she felt as if a terrible burden had been lifted off
+her shoulders.
+
+"Do you not approve of my marriage?" asked Wharton, anxiously; "she is
+a Sioux, but has become a Christian?"
+
+"Certainly, I can understand your case perfectly."
+
+Wharton went away and Clary was left behind. She pondered deeply,
+whether she had done right in trusting herself to the care of these
+cannibals.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX
+
+MALDAR'S FAREWELL
+
+
+The Ice Bird flew like an arrow over the glistening waters, and in a few
+hours land was in sight. Monte-Cristo went on deck with his son, and was
+delighted at the latter's enthusiasm.
+
+"Spero," he said, solemnly placing his hand on the boy's head, "in less
+than two hours you will set foot in a new world. Great dangers await
+you. Will you have the courage to brave them?"
+
+"Oh, papa, when you are near me, I have no fear."
+
+"Do not speak thus; circumstances may happen which may separate us. The
+desert is still unexplored, and the horrors of nature are not always the
+greatest dangers which threaten mankind."
+
+"But why do you speak of such things, papa?" said Spero, terrified.
+
+"Because I am not immortal. I may be conquered. Spero, look me in the
+eye, and swear to me that, should anything occur, you will not despair.
+You must never forget that you owe everything to your mother. Love her
+like one of those sainted women, for she deserves it."
+
+"What do you fear, father?"
+
+"Nothing. Rest easy, my son; I live and watch over you."
+
+The next minute Monte-Cristo was giving his orders as usual to the
+sailors. Yet he was inwardly uneasy; a heavy load seemed to bear him
+down, and the air he breathed threatened to choke him.
+
+And yet he was surrounded by faithful servants, who would willingly have
+given up their lives for him--Jacopo, Bertuccio, and Coucou. They were
+all ready to brave any danger, and the breast of each of them was a wall
+of protection about him.
+
+The town rose before the gaze of the travellers. Monte-Cristo leaned
+against the prow, and gazed enthusiastically at the harbor where the
+Carthaginian barks had hidden Hannibal's plunder.
+
+Suddenly Jacopo hurried on deck, and excitedly exclaimed:
+
+"Master--come quickly--your cabin door is open."
+
+"What of that?"
+
+"The safe is open, too."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"Master, I saw with my own eyes the contents of the safe lying on the
+ground. Gold and diamonds are scattered about the floor."
+
+Monte-Cristo frowned. Was there a thief on board?
+
+"Come, Spero," he said, and, followed by Jacopo, father and son hurried
+to the cabin.
+
+As the Corsican had said, the cabin was indeed open, and the carpet was
+strewn with emeralds, rubies, and other precious stones. Monte-Cristo at
+first examined the lock, the secret spring of which he alone knew how to
+open.
+
+"It was not a thief who opened the safe," he said to Jacopo.
+
+"But the jewels--"
+
+"Just so. A thief would have taken them with him."
+
+Jacopo was silent; the truth of this assertion was evident to him.
+
+"Has any one besides you known about it?" asked Monte-Cristo, after a
+pause.
+
+"No one, master; I called you directly."
+
+"Good, Jacopo. Speak to no one about this matter."
+
+"But, master; if we have a thief on board--"
+
+Monte-Cristo frowned; he did not brook the least opposition.
+
+"Go now, Jacopo, and keep quiet."
+
+When Jacopo had gone, Monte-Cristo called Spero, and bade him examine
+the lock to see if he could discover anything.
+
+Spero obeyed, but found nothing.
+
+Monte-Cristo laughed.
+
+"You are still young," he said. "Your eyes must first be taught how to
+see. There is a scratch on the lock which must have been made by a
+dagger."
+
+"But, father, who could have tried to open the lock with a dagger?"
+
+"A man, whose name I will tell you later on. With great skill he put the
+dagger in the lock and opened it. The cleverest locksmith could not have
+done better. Look!"
+
+Monte-Cristo shoved the point of his own sword in the lock, and opened
+it easily.
+
+"Really it is so," said Spero.
+
+"And now let us look at the safe, which, I presume, was opened in the
+same way."
+
+Spero looked carefully at the lock, and then said:
+
+"It has not been opened with a dagger, I am sure of it."
+
+"How do you know this?"
+
+"I see it, papa; the man must have had a spiral spring."
+
+"A spiral spring?"
+
+"Yes; such as is used in pocket watches."
+
+"You are right."
+
+"And he did his work carelessly, for he left this little piece sticking
+in the lock." And with these words Spero triumphantly held up a small
+piece of steel.
+
+Monte-Cristo clasped the boy in his arms. Spero was the worthy pupil of
+the man whose powers of observation had been sharpened during his
+intercourse with the Abbe Faria.
+
+"And now you shall know who the man was that broke in here," said the
+count, pushing aside the diamonds which more than half filled the middle
+drawer of the safe. "Look here! what is this?"
+
+"A dagger, father," said Spero, in affright.
+
+"And on this dagger a piece of parchment is fastened."
+
+Monte-Cristo carefully unrolled the scrap of paper and read the
+following, written with blood, in Arabian characters:
+
+"Maldar to Monte-Cristo. The poor man who trusts in Allah is richer than
+the nobleman who fights against him. Beware of the Khouans!"
+
+"Who are the Khouans, papa?"
+
+"I shall tell you later on--there is no time to lose now. Come!"
+
+Hurriedly going on deck with Spero, the count accosted Jacopo.
+
+"When did the Arab leave the ship?" he asked.
+
+"He is still here, master, in the custody of Coucou."
+
+"Are you sure, Jacopo? Tell him to come to me."
+
+Jacopo disappeared, but soon returned.
+
+"Master," he said, "the Zouave is fast asleep."
+
+"And the Arab?"
+
+"Has disappeared."
+
+"Really?"
+
+"Yes, but we will find him. Come, now! Search every corner of the ship."
+
+Monte-Cristo stopped the sailors.
+
+"It is useless," he said, pointing to the shore, "look there!"
+
+Maldar stood on the beach, shaking his fist angrily at the yacht.
+
+"Comrades, listen," said Monte-Cristo, "the Arab is our deadly enemy. In
+Algeria every bush conceals a danger, every foot of ground carries an
+assassin! Do your duty, but look out for yourselves!"
+
+The next minute the yacht reached the harbor--they were in Africa!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L
+
+THE HOLY SIGNAL
+
+
+At the southern end of the province of Oran, at the entrance to the
+Great Sahara, is the Salt Mountain, called by the Arabs Khenegel Melch.
+A solitary horseman rode slowly along the road. A white hood covered his
+head and a long gun was slung over his shoulder. Suddenly he halted and
+gazed around. On the left of him was the dark-red monolith called the
+Rock of Blood. Many murders had been committed at this place. On still
+nights faint groans are heard; they are like the cries of the spirits of
+the murdered ones, and the traveller who hears the sounds commends his
+soul to Allah and hurries away from the horrible spot. The solitary
+horseman threw back his hood from his face and lifted up his long thin
+arms in prayer. He sprang from his horse and examined the Rock of Blood
+carefully. On the stone near the base of the monolith was a star similar
+to those on his horse. The traveller prostrated himself on the ground,
+murmured a prayer and got on horseback again. The horse sped along like
+the wind, and was soon at the desert of the Great Sahara. Here all is
+light, not a shadow intercepts the rays of the sun, not a sound is heard
+here, all is silent. The horseman rode on, his eye gazing at the sun's
+disk, which was gradually setting. He did not seem to mind the glare,
+and upon a closer examination of his person one would have found this
+natural. He was scarred all over and appeared to have undergone every
+bodily ill. His bernouse flew aside and from the open breast the handle
+of a yataghan peeped; no cord or belt held it. It was attached to the
+man's skin. The man was a martyr. Not a part of his body was whole. He
+was a mass of cuts and bruises. His brothers called him a saint. He
+spoke to Allah and Allah listened to his speech. The desert was his
+empire, and a smile broke over his lips when he found himself on his
+territory. How he kept in his way without a path to guide him was a
+mystery. The sun had disappeared from the horizon. The man now rose in
+the stirrups and, taking his gun, laid his finger on the trigger. He
+seemed to be expecting something. Was it an enemy from heaven? His gun
+was pointed in that direction. The moon now rose pale and clear. A loud
+report was heard. The saint greeted the moon, and said these words from
+the Koran in a loud, firm voice:
+
+"The time will come for those who are to appear before Allah's throne."
+
+"The time has come," answered another voice.
+
+"Swear by the wise Koran that you are sent to show the right road,"
+continued the saint.
+
+"I swear it by the wise Koran," replied the same voice.
+
+"Are you he whom I expect?"
+
+"I am he whom Allah sent."
+
+"Have you the sacred signal?"
+
+"Look!" replied the stranger, throwing his bernouse aside and showing
+his lean, naked breast, and on his brown breast shone a star with six
+points.
+
+The saint got off his horse, kissed the ground, and muttered half aloud:
+
+"Allah is Allah, and Mahomet is his prophet."
+
+"Rise," said the other; "the true believer only kneels to Allah."
+
+"Are you not Allah's messenger? Have you not come to chastise the
+infidel oppressors of the holy island?"
+
+"I am he, but yet I say rise. The brothers know that I am here. They
+knew I would appear in the fourth month, at the hour when the moon rose
+before the setting sun had disappeared from the horizon. The brothers,
+then, have sent you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are they ready to obey the messenger of Allah? Are they ready to
+sacrifice their own and their wives' lives?"
+
+"Look at me! I have torn my limbs with pincers. The brothers have done
+likewise. We are ready to obey."
+
+"Then I say to you, Maldar Mohammed ben Abdallah, the hour for revenge
+has come. Death to the Giaours!"
+
+He paused for a moment; then continued:
+
+"Where are the Khouans?"
+
+"At Uargla."
+
+"Where are the Christian prisoners? Have my commands been obeyed?"
+
+"Yes, master, not a hair of their heads has been touched; but the
+believers grumbled at showing them mercy and demanded their deaths,
+especially in the case of one, a French captain."
+
+"What does a man's death signify--the drops of blood are lost in the
+sands, and their trails lost forever. Go tell the brothers that before
+the moon has reached its twentieth course, I shall be in their midst,
+and blood will flow in streams! Go!"
+
+With an imperious wave of the hand Maldar pointed toward the horizon,
+and the Mekkadem prostrated himself anew.
+
+"Yes," said Maldar to himself when the saint had gone, "they shall all
+die, and the stream of their blood will be the spring out of which
+Allah's warriors shall drink courage."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI
+
+UARGLA
+
+
+Lost in the immensity of the desert, Uargla, the queen of the oases,
+was, up to thirty years ago, little known. On the day Maldar had
+conversed with the saint a dense mass of people crowded about one of the
+chief gates of Uargla, and loud voices arose in the air. A horrible
+monster, all tattered and torn, had swung himself on a pile of stones,
+and begun to harangue the crowd.
+
+"You think you are acting wisely," he cried, "and yet you are only
+fools. In the prisons of Kiobeh you keep the enemies of Islam, and while
+you are pondering over the mysteries of the Koran, the infidel dogs are
+murdering your wives and children. Arise, believers of Islam, and kill
+the Giaours!"
+
+The crowd yelled like savages.
+
+For more than six months prisoners had been kept in the fortress, and in
+spite of all the protestations of the inhabitants, their lives had been
+spared. It was time, many thought, to kill them and expose their heads
+to the birds of prey. The marabout was right, they said, and the crowd
+demanded the lives of the unfortunates. The marabout was delighted at
+the effect of his words, and uttering a cry he sprang from his perch
+and disappeared in the crowd. He knew the excited fanatics would follow
+him to the Kiobeh, and while he was walking on he pictured to himself
+the agonies the victims would have to endure. They must all die for the
+glory of Allah. In their blind hatred of the Christians, the Aratins,
+whose deep black color is not found in any other tribe, allied
+themselves with the Arabs, the Soudanese with the Mozambites, and
+yelling and shouting and armed with knives, guns and daggers, the
+savages marched toward the Kiobeh. Woe to the unfortunates who fell
+victims to such blind fanaticism--woe to the prisoners who were pining
+away in the Kiobeh!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII
+
+CAPTAIN JOLIETTE
+
+
+Twenty feet under the Kiobeh were the cells hewn out of the rock. In one
+of the darkest of these dungeons lay a young man with a ball and chain
+around his ankles. Rags covered the emaciated form of the man, and only
+from small strips of the rotten and withered clothing could it be seen
+that he wore the uniform of a French soldier. From the left shoulder
+part of an epaulet hung, and a scabbard without any sword in it was tied
+around his waist.
+
+A dark form appeared in the doorway, shoved some food toward the
+prisoner, and disappeared without saying a word.
+
+Ten years before the prisoner was the bearer of a proud name. Young,
+rich and courted, Albert de Morcerf was the lion of the Parisian salons
+and the joy of his parents. One day a crash came like lightning from a
+clear sky, and destroyed his whole existence. His father was denounced
+in the Chamber of Peers as a traitor and an assassin. Count de Morcerf
+could not defend himself, for what he was charged with was the truth.
+The Countess of Morcerf buried herself at Marseilles under the name of
+Madame Joliette, while her son entered the army of Algeria or Chasseurs
+d'Afrique. In three years Albert Joliette had become a captain. As he
+lay now in his cell the past rose before him. He recollected his insult
+and challenge to the Count of Monte-Cristo, and his subsequent apology
+when he had heard Mercedes' story. That day on coming home he discovered
+his father dead with a bullet in his brain, inflicted by his own hand.
+
+But now the past had been atoned for. The bravery of the son expiated
+the old father's crimes. When Albert returned home, Mercedes enjoyed new
+life at his side. But alas! The proud hopes soon vanished. All news from
+Albert ceased, and at the end of three months Mercedes, in despair, had
+written to the Count of Monte-Cristo.
+
+Three months before Albert had been captured by the rebels, and
+incarcerated in the dungeon in which he still was. Not a human voice was
+ever heard. The black slave who served him with coffee could not be
+induced to say a word to him. Mercedes had told him the story of the
+Count of Monte-Cristo; he knew that Edmond Dantes had spent fourteen
+years in the Chateau d'If, and trembled when he thought of it. Yet if he
+were only able to escape! But Albert soon became convinced that this was
+impossible. There was no way out of these gloomy walls. He then made up
+his mind to starve himself, and for several days he had eaten nothing,
+so that he was astonished at finding himself still alive. When the slave
+withdrew on this particular day, Albert felt his head turn and he
+muttered half aloud:
+
+"Mother, mother, forgive me, but I cannot do otherwise."
+
+At this moment a loud noise was heard, and the assassins led by the
+marabout entered Joliette's dungeon.
+
+He resolved to die bravely as became a French soldier.
+
+Heavy blows were rained against his cell, and at the same moment
+Joliette heard a voice call to him:
+
+"Captain, captain! Do not despair--help is at hand!"
+
+Just then his cell door was burst open and the murderers rushed in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIII
+
+THE LION IN CONFLICT WITH THE LION
+
+
+We must go back with our story four days. Sixty leagues from Uargla an
+immense caravan was encamped. Not a tree or a green leaf could be seen
+for miles around, and yet it was here that Monte-Cristo cast his tent.
+Hardly had he arrived at Bona than he regained the vigor of his youthful
+days, and two hours after his landing Monte-Cristo was already on his
+way to the desert with a well-organized caravan. One hundred energetic
+men accompanied him, and his train consisted of two hundred horses and
+eight hundred camels. He and Spero were at the head of the party;
+Bertuccio, Jacopo and Coucou followed behind. Before he had left the
+ship, the count had called his son aside, and putting a map before him,
+he pointed with his finger to Uargla and said:
+
+"This is the place we must go to--in Uargla we shall find what we are
+looking for."
+
+Monte-Cristo knew that in the centre of the desert the queen of the
+oases, Uargla, lay, and that it was the principal refuge of sedition. He
+had known that Abd-el-Kader's imprisonment was but the commencement of a
+long and bloody war. The name given him by the Zouave, Mohammed ben
+Abdallah, he knew to be that of a treacherous villain. How did it
+happen, then, that Monte-Cristo had not recognized in the Arab who
+enjoyed his hospitality Mohammed ben Abdallah? The count had been
+rewarded for his generosity by having his cabin broken open, the
+contents of his safe scattered about, and being told to beware of the
+Khouans.
+
+What the Fenians are to Ireland, the Thugs to India, the Khouans are to
+Arabia. They formed a brotherhood whose object was the murder and
+annihilation of all Europeans and Christians. Monte-Cristo knew the
+savage nature of these enemies. He was now within four days' journey of
+Uargla, and began to hope that perhaps he would find what he was
+seeking. When night came, Monte-Cristo withdrew with Spero to his tent.
+The count wrote to Haydee. A courier went north every day, but
+Monte-Cristo had not yet been able to send Mercedes any consolation.
+Spero, tired out by the fatigues of the day, had fallen asleep, and the
+father often gazed with pleasure at the finely chiselled face. How many
+dreams and hopes rested on this son! Yes, when he gazed at Spero, he had
+to confess that he had dealt too harshly with Morcerf. If he had been a
+father at that time, he would have hesitated before he had carried out
+his plan of vengeance. Ah! he must hurry and bring back to Mercedes her
+son, so that the punishment should not fall on Spero's head.
+
+Suddenly Spero uttered a cry in his sleep, and looked wildly about him.
+
+"No, no; let me go! Papa, help--they are carrying me away--help me!"
+
+Monte-Cristo, frightened, bent over the sleeping boy.
+
+"What is the matter, Spero?" he asked, tenderly; "have you been
+dreaming?"
+
+"Oh, how glad I am it was only a dream! I will tell it to you."
+
+"Speak, Spero, I am listening. You know," he consolingly added, "dreams
+are untrue."
+
+"Yes, you have often told me that, and yet--"
+
+The child paused and looked timidly in the corner of the tent.
+
+"Why do you look so timidly over there?" asked the count, anxiously.
+
+"Papa, do not laugh at me," whispered Spero, "but I do not think I was
+asleep. A little while ago, I saw the curtains of the tent part and a
+dark form appeared at the aperture."
+
+"When was it, Spero?"
+
+"At the moment when you laid the pen down and came to me."
+
+"You saw me then? You were not sleeping?"
+
+"I do not know, papa; I have read of the eye of the serpent, which
+frightens the little birds and prevents them from making a single
+movement. I could not move, and the two men drew near me. They pressed
+their long hands upon my forehead and wished to drag me off. Then
+finally I screamed and they disappeared."
+
+Monte-Cristo embraced the excited child and reassuringly murmured:
+
+"Keep quiet, Spero, I am with you."
+
+Monte-Cristo looked thoughtful. Suppose his boy should be taken from
+him? No, it was nonsense. Spero must have been dreaming.
+
+"Spero," he said, turning to the child, "I shall watch over your
+slumbers! Lie down again and have no fear. Come, I will kiss you; think
+of your mother and go to sleep."
+
+The boy smiled now and his pale cheeks grew rosy. His father's voice
+gave him courage, and, laying his head upon Monte-Cristo's shoulder, he
+fell asleep, murmuring: "Dear, dear mother."
+
+When he was fast asleep, Monte-Cristo gently withdrew his arm and softly
+walked to the corner of the tent. The cloth of which the tent was made
+was very strong and thick, and withstood the rays of the sun and the
+rain. When the count let his hand glide over it, he almost uttered a cry
+of astonishment. Spero had not been dreaming! The tent had been cut from
+top to bottom as if with a sharp sword.
+
+Who had any interest in breaking into his tent? Did they wish to kill
+him or Spero?
+
+The count turned deadly pale. He had tried to reassure Spero by telling
+him that dreams were untruths, but he himself felt disturbed. Throwing
+the curtains of the tent aside, Monte-Cristo went out into the night.
+The pale moonlight shone full upon the dark rocks. With the sharp glance
+of an eagle Monte-Cristo gazed about. It seemed hardly possible to him
+that two men had gone through the camp unhindered and undisturbed, and
+yet it was so. The cut in the canvas was the best proof of this. Shaking
+his head, the count returned to the tent and mended the tear in the
+cloth with fine wire thread. Thereupon he shoved the table near the wall
+and began to write. Spero could sleep peacefully; his father was
+watching. Haydee had intrusted the child to him, and he had to bring it
+back to her in safety. Suddenly he was aroused by the roar of a lion.
+The count seized a gun, flung his arm about Spero, whom he would not
+have left alone for the world, and hurried out. The Arabs, stricken with
+terror, had fled in all directions.
+
+"Let no one stir!" shouted the count above the din. "I will answer for
+your life, but you must obey my orders."
+
+"Here I am," said Coucou, coming forward. "Master, let me follow you. I
+know the lion and understand how to fight him."
+
+"Master, take my life, but spare your own," implored Jacopo.
+
+"Jacopo, Coucou," said the count, "I intrust Spero to you, and let no
+one fire until I do. The first shot belongs to me. If I should miss the
+lion, then you can take your turn."
+
+A new uproar was heard, followed by the report of a gun.
+
+"A man seems to have attacked the beast," said the count, running in the
+direction whence the sound proceeded.
+
+To his horror he saw a man lying on the ground, and the lion standing
+over him with one paw on his breast. It was Bertuccio, Benedetto's
+foster-father. Carefully, fearlessly, looking into the yellow eye of the
+king of beasts, Monte-Cristo advanced. The lion growled. The slightest
+movement would have caused Bertuccio's death. With a bound it sprang at
+the count. Quick as thought the latter fired. With a roar of pain the
+majestic beast turned in the air and fell to the ground, dead. The next
+minute the count knelt at Bertuccio's side. The latter was unconscious.
+The count raised his pale face, and, dashing some water over it,
+gradually restored the old man to his senses.
+
+"Bertuccio," he softly said, "do you know me?"
+
+"Yes, master. Ah, the lion has finished me! Its claws were buried like
+daggers in my breast."
+
+"Have you nothing to say to me? Have you no wish to be carried out?
+Speak, you know I am your friend."
+
+"Quick, quick!" he whispered, breathlessly; "one
+more--drop--Spero--you--"
+
+"Drink!" said the count, placing a bottle to his lips.
+
+"Master, beware of your enemies. I saw them, I followed them, and then I
+met the lion."
+
+"Enemies, you say? How many were there?"
+
+"Two. They were Arabs. Ajassuas, as I believe. Oh, beware of them!"
+
+"Bertuccio, since twenty years you have been a faithful friend to me.
+Speak, and I swear on my honor I will do what you say."
+
+"My dear master--it is--about--that wretch."
+
+"You speak of Benedetto?"
+
+"Yes. I would have killed him then if you had not held me back, but yet
+I am glad I did not do it. I ask you as a favor to--"
+
+"To what?"
+
+"To let Benedetto live, if he should ever cross your path. He must not
+die by your hand."
+
+"I swear not to kill him, Bertuccio; by the head of my child."
+
+Bertuccio muttered his thanks, and passed silently away.
+
+"The lion has conquered the lion," whispered a voice close to the
+count.
+
+Monte-Cristo turned around and saw a delicate young girl in a white
+bernouse.
+
+"Who are you?" he gently asked.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIV
+
+MEDJE
+
+
+At the count's question, the girl passed her small white hand slowly
+across her forehead, and in a low voice said:
+
+"I am she who no longer has any family, for her family has been
+tortured; she has no native country, for it has exiled her; no friend,
+for her only one is in the power of his enemies."
+
+"Then your name is Medje?" exclaimed the count in a sudden fit of joyful
+inspiration.
+
+"Yes, I am Medje," she proudly answered, throwing back her veil and
+revealing a countenance of superb beauty.
+
+Coucou now hastened up, and as he beheld the young Arabian, he excitedly
+exclaimed:
+
+"Medje, commander, it is Medje. Ask her where her 'little papa' is."
+
+Medje turned deathly pale as she heard these words.
+
+She stretched her arms toward the south and mournfully said:
+
+"Little papa is down there, in the sultana's dungeon."
+
+"Do you mean Captain Joliette, whom you call little papa?" asked
+Monte-Cristo.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And the sultana is Uargla, the mysterious city?"
+
+The young girl shivered as she replied:
+
+"Yes, Uargla. There he suffers and there, too, he will be killed."
+
+Monte-Cristo waved back those around, and then asked her in a whisper:
+
+"Why did you come here?"
+
+"To look for you."
+
+"For me? Do you know me?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Somebody has told you my name?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Explain yourself more plainly."
+
+"I will tell you everything, but let these men go away."
+
+"Follow me," said the count.
+
+The count ordered Coucou to take charge of the dead lion, and of
+Bertuccio's body, which would be buried in the morning. He then gazed
+intently at the girl, and recognized two pale six-cornered stars in dead
+gold color on her cheeks. This filled him with new hope.
+
+"Poor Bertuccio," sighed the Jackal, "he was a good comrade."
+
+"And a faithful soul," added Monte-Cristo.
+
+Spero came running up, and winding his arm around his father's neck,
+whisperingly asked:
+
+"Papa, why could I not accompany you?"
+
+"My child, it was a fight with a lion."
+
+"You were not afraid? Why should I have been?"
+
+The handsome boy now, for the first time, perceived Medje, who smiled at
+him.
+
+"Who is that, papa?" he asked in a whisper.
+
+"A friend, Spero; offer her your hand."
+
+The boy obeyed and Medje raised his hand to her lips, murmuring:
+
+"Son of him who kills lions, may God measure your years by the kisses
+which your father gives you."
+
+Monte-Cristo clasped his arms around Spero's shoulders and, accompanied
+by him and Medje, approached the tent. But before he reached it an Arab
+excitedly ran toward him with outstretched arms.
+
+"Oh, master, hear me. Do not let this woman cross the threshold of the
+camp."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Did you not see the sign on her cheek? She is accursed."
+
+Involuntarily Medje covered her face with her hands.
+
+Monte-Cristo angrily retorted:
+
+"Silence. The weaker have a right to the hospitality of the stronger."
+
+"Oh, my lord. Heed my warning. She is a witch, an accursed
+fortune-teller. You will be sorry if she enters the camp. She will cast
+a spell over camels and men."
+
+"All the same, leave me. Medje has placed herself under my protection
+and I will not deceive her confidence."
+
+The Arabian girl clung weeping to the count.
+
+"Do not grieve," he said, "you have mentioned a name which renders you
+holy in my eyes."
+
+He then turned to the Arab, and sternly continued:
+
+"You may have your liberty if you desire. But if you have not only
+spoken in your own name but also in that of your comrades, tell them
+that Monte-Cristo, the lion-tamer, is afraid of nobody. They may all
+leave. The desert with its terrors cannot alter my will."
+
+The other Arabs, who had drawn near, heard these words, and
+enthusiastically exclaimed:
+
+"We will not leave you, lion-killer."
+
+The count nodded and, addressing the Corsican, said:
+
+"Give him double what he claims. In my home no attention is paid to
+magic; we honor God and laugh at demons."
+
+He slowly entered his tent, and gazing at Spero and Medje, in a friendly
+tone of voice said:
+
+"Do not be afraid, I am protecting you. Draw nearer, Medje, and answer
+my questions."
+
+The young girl bowed low in token of obedience, and the count began:
+
+"So you know Captain Joliette?"
+
+"Yes, he saved my life, and thereby became my lord and master."
+
+"You know who has captured him?"
+
+"Yes, they are the enemies of my race as they are of yours. They are
+called the Ajassuas and fear nothing and nobody--oh, they are the
+emissaries from the regions below!"
+
+"Are they masters of Uargla?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And you assert that Captain Joliette is still alive?"
+
+"Yes, he still lives, I swear it; but he is suffering untold tortures in
+a damp, dark, subterranean dungeon. Oh, would I could suffer his anguish
+and terrors for him; he has saved me, and now that he should miserably
+die!"
+
+Hot tears ran over Medje's brown cheeks, and her small hands were
+clasped convulsively. Monte-Cristo watched her narrowly, and Coucou's
+tale that the Arabian girl had disappeared almost at the same time as
+the captain again came into his mind.
+
+"You love Captain Joliette?" he asked.
+
+"Does not the weak child love its father who guides its tottering
+footsteps? Yes, I love him whose name you have mentioned. He is the
+strong trunk which gives support to the clinging vine."
+
+"And why do the Arabs refuse to permit you to remain in camp? Your
+cheeks bear the sign of an accursed caste, the brand of the murderous
+Khouans."
+
+Medje's face became fiery red.
+
+"Hear me," she said, "before you condemn me. You will be just to me not
+only on account of your brother but also for the sake of this child."
+
+She pointed to Spero, who had again fallen asleep, and Monte-Cristo,
+frightened in spite of himself, said:
+
+"Speak. I will not interrupt you again."
+
+"My father," began Medje hastily, "was a mighty Kabyle chief. He was a
+wise man and his tribe was industrious and prosperous.
+
+"Then came the day when your countrymen, the French, set foot on our
+sacred shores. My father summoned his tribe to arms, and took part in
+the battle against the invaders. During a bitter fight between the
+Europeans and the Arabs a traitor showed the enemy a secret path through
+the defile, and, taken by surprise, my father saw himself surrounded by
+the enemy. Our troops had been so decimated by the murderous fire that
+scarcely more than a hundred remained. A marabout who was in the camp
+induced them to seek refuge in a cave, and hardly had my father entered
+it with his troops when the treacherous marabout betrayed his
+hiding-place to the enemy. They stationed themselves before the opening
+and fired in on the helpless Arabs, who were caught like rats in a hole.
+
+"In less than half an hour only half of the number were still surviving,
+and the French called upon them to surrender. My father, all bleeding
+from his wounds, had an interview with the French general, in which he
+offered his own life and pledged that none of the tribe of Ben-Ali-Smah
+would ever again take up arms against the French. This he did on
+condition that his men were to be let go free. The general accepted the
+offer and my father took the solemn pledge; then he bared his bosom to
+be shot.
+
+"But the Frenchman was a noble man, and, taking my father's hand, said
+that France sought friends and allies in Africa, not slaves. He did not
+want his life, but his friendship. We lived very happy and peaceful
+after that, only we were called renegades by the other tribes, and
+especially the Khouans, that murderous class which believes that it
+pleases Allah if they shed their fellow beings' blood.
+
+"Five years had elapsed, and I was then twelve years old, when my father
+gave a great feast in honor of a celebrated French commander who visited
+our settlement. Suddenly, at midnight, when the festivities were over,
+and we were all lying in a deep sleep, the Khouans made an attack on our
+village. My father was assassinated and my mother and I taken prisoners.
+We were carried into the desert with other prisoners of my tribe.
+Reaching an oasis, the captives were tied to the trunks of trees, and
+their limbs hacked off by the murderous Khouans with their yataghans. My
+mother was one of those tortured to death in this way. Her last words
+were: 'Medje, avenge us, and remember your father's oath.' I swooned as
+she died. I was recalled to life by sharp pain on my cheeks. With a
+shriek I opened my eyes, and saw standing before me a man holding a
+white-hot iron in his hand, with which he had just branded me.
+
+"'By Allah,' he exclaimed, 'I forbid you to touch this maiden; she
+carries the sacred sign.'
+
+"All stepped reverently back, and while the terrible pain forced the hot
+tears out of my eyes they fell on their knees before me and murmured
+unintelligible words. The man who had saved me was a powerful sheik of
+the Khouans. I did not then understand the motive of his action. Some
+old women took me in charge, and I was conveyed still further into the
+desert. From time to time I fell into a semi-comatose condition, and
+while my limbs became convulsed I uttered incoherent words, which the
+old women proclaimed to be prophecies. Much later I discovered that they
+had put me in this terrible condition by means of opiates. That is how
+they wanted to make me a Khouan priestess.
+
+"Finally, when I was sixteen years of age, the sheik who had saved my
+life wanted to make me his wife. He was my father's and mother's
+assassin, and I hated him. To escape his odious addresses, I plunged a
+dagger in my breast. I would rather die than belong to him. For weeks I
+lay between life and death, and when I recovered I determined to flee. A
+midnight attack on the Ajassuas tribe, as the Khouan caste was termed,
+gave me the opportunity. I made good my escape, and wandered on and on
+until I sank senseless from exhaustion on the ground.
+
+"When I recovered my senses I found myself in an oasis near a rippling
+brook, the clear, cool water of which slaked my thirst, and the fruit of
+a date-tree stilled my hunger. Guiding myself by the stars I took a
+northern direction, hoping to find some Frenchman who had been my
+father's friend. Suddenly, however, I saw a panther's eye gleaming at me
+from the bushes. I wanted to cry for help, but I could not. The next
+minute I felt the sharp claws of the wild beast on my back and with a
+groan sank to the ground.
+
+"I awoke under the kind care of a man who was binding the wound on my
+shoulder. That man who had saved me from the panther's clutches was
+Captain Joliette. Days of ineffable bliss followed. The captain took me
+into his French camp and surrounded me with every care and attention. I
+called him my 'little papa.' Oh, how I love him! I could place my hands
+under his feet. He became my teacher, and I soon learned to speak his
+language. The other soldiers were also kind to me and especially Coucou,
+who has now recognized me again. The days I spent in the French camp
+were as if spent in paradise. But alas, misfortune soon threw its black
+shadow over me.
+
+"One night I awoke in my tent on account of a strange noise. For an
+instant I saw the black face and gleaming eyes of an Ajassua, then they
+disappeared and I discovered that the canvas of my tent had been slit
+from top to bottom with a keen dagger."
+
+As Medje related this incident Monte-Cristo could not repress a slight
+shudder. Had not Spero had the same experience, and was not the canvas
+of his tent slit in the same manner? What if the same danger threatened
+him?
+
+"I could not sleep any more," continued Medje, "and as soon as day came
+I hastened to the captain's tent. He was on the point of starting out on
+an expedition with twenty men. I begged him on my knees not to leave me
+alone behind, but he only laughed at my fears, kissed me on the
+forehead, and rode off at the head of his small detachment.
+
+"The day seemed to me interminable. When night came and the captain did
+not return I became terribly anxious. I rushed to the outer posts and
+gazed fixedly down the roadway. Suddenly I felt myself thrown to the
+ground, a gag forced in my mouth, my hands and feet were bound with
+silken cords, and then powerful hands lifted me up on the back of a
+horse which dashed off at headlong speed.
+
+"How long the mad ride lasted I cannot tell. Finally the gag was taken
+from my mouth, and through the folds of my veil I recognized the sheik
+of the Ajassuas, who was bending over me.
+
+"'This time you shall not escape from me,' he declared, and the ride was
+continued for three days and three nights before we came to a final
+halt.
+
+"I found myself in Uargla, that terrible city in whose streets blood
+flows in streams. I was brought into a solid tower of Kiobeh, and the
+fearful attendants, who saw in me a priestess of Allah, again surrounded
+me.
+
+"At first I refused all food, wishing to starve to death, but I laid
+aside this idea, as I had a presentiment that I would still be of some
+service to my friend. Two days later I heard a terrible noise in the
+street, and hastening to the grated window of my cell, gazed out.
+
+"I saw a sight which froze my blood with horror. Dark forms clad in
+long brown cloaks carried a bier made of twigs of trees, and on it,
+pale, bleeding, and with closed eyes, lay my protector, Captain
+Joliette.
+
+"I shook my prison bars; I wanted to get out and die with my friend. In
+vain; the grating did not shake or give way. At this instant I felt
+myself pulled back, and the man who had dared to make love to me stood
+before me.
+
+"'Medje,' he said, 'the Frenchman who stole you is in our hands.'
+
+"'And you will kill him, coward,' I cried.
+
+"'No, not yet,' he replied with a smile; 'look!'
+
+"I did so, and saw the captain carried on the bier through the low iron
+gate.
+
+"'They will put this Christian, as you call him, in a dark cell and keep
+him there month after month until he longs for death.'
+
+"'And what will you do with me?' I asked.
+
+"'Keep you for myself.'
+
+"I then made an infamous bargain; God forgive me for doing so. I told
+him I would be his if he would set the captain at liberty. He hesitated
+at first, but finally accepted. I made him take a solemn oath, and he,
+in turn, obliged me to do the same.
+
+"'Leave me,' I then said, 'and when you have fulfilled your word,
+return.'
+
+"He went, and I stood at the window hour after hour. The fatal door did
+not open. On the fourth day I learned the reason. An order had been
+issued prohibiting the setting at liberty of any prisoner, and the man
+to whom I had sworn the oath had quarrelled with the others on account
+of the order, and had been killed. My hope to serve my friend was
+blasted. A strange rumor next reached me that a marabout was preaching
+immediate massacre, and I knew not whether Captain Joliette was alive or
+dead. I could now walk about Uargla where I pleased, and I determined
+one evening to wrap myself in my veil and take advantage of the strange
+superstition in which I was still held. The sentinel trembled when he
+saw me. I approached him and said some strange words which came into my
+head. He threw down his weapons and fled. I passed out of Uargla and
+strayed into the desert. Allah has guided my footsteps to you. You will
+save him, I feel it, I know it."
+
+"May Heaven grant your wishes!" said Monte-Cristo, as, leaving the tent,
+he summoned Jacopo and ordered him to get ready to depart at once.
+
+"Hurrah! we're off at last!" cried Coucou, throwing his cap in the air.
+
+At this instant a discharge of musketry was heard. Monte-Cristo hastened
+in the direction of the sound, followed by Coucou and about fifty men.
+The camp appeared to be surrounded, yet, at a shrill cry, which seemed
+to be a signal, the horsemen suddenly wheeled about and dashed away.
+
+What did it mean? A sudden thought darted through Monte-Cristo's brain.
+He rushed back to his tent. The couch was empty--Spero was not there!
+The terrible truth burst on his mind. The attack had been only feigned.
+The bandits had stolen his boy!
+
+The strong man wept; but, as a hot tear fell on his hand, he shook his
+head like a lion aroused from his sleep, and shouted:
+
+"To horse! To horse! To Uargla!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LV
+
+"DO NOT DIE, CAPTAIN!"
+
+
+We left Captain Joliette at the moment when the savages commanded by the
+marabout entered his cell, and a voice had called to him:
+
+"Do not die, captain!"
+
+"Kill him! kill him!" shouted the crowd.
+
+The marabout now advanced toward the captain, and, placing his lean hand
+on the prisoner's shoulder, said:
+
+"There is but one God, and Mahomet is his prophet!"
+
+The effect of these words on the populace was most magical. They all
+fell back and opened a space for the approach of a motley group of
+horsemen.
+
+"The Khouans! the Khouans!" was whispered from one to the other.
+
+They all crowded around and kissed the mantle of the chief.
+
+"You are all cowardly murderers!" cried Albert. "Make an end of it."
+
+"You want to die?" said the chief. "All right; but I warn you that your
+agonies will be terrible!"
+
+Upon a wink from the chief the captain was tied to a post.
+
+"Bring out the other prisoners!" commanded the Arab chieftain.
+
+They were thirty in number, all French soldiers, and upon the direction
+of the chief they were led past the post to which Albert was tied.
+
+"Long live our captain!" they cried, as they caught a glimpse of his
+uniform.
+
+Tears started in Albert's eyes, and he loudly joined in the cry.
+
+The rear of the procession was brought up by a strange-looking person.
+His walk betrayed the Parisian boulevardier, and the remnants of his
+clothing confirmed the opinion. When he passed the marabout he cried
+aloud in French:
+
+"You old fool, you, what are you staring at? You don't want me to admire
+your ugly face, do you?"
+
+The marabout, who did not understand French, looked at him in
+astonishment, while the soldiers burst out laughing.
+
+The stranger looked sharply at Albert, and said:
+
+"Captain, by all the saints, you must not die."
+
+"What?" exclaimed Albert, surprised, "it was you who--"
+
+"Yes, I, Gratillet, journalist, Beauchamp's friend and your friend,"
+continued Gratillet. "Captain, we must escape out of this to-night;
+to-morrow it might be too late."
+
+Albert was encouraged by the journalist's words, and began to hope. But
+just then a wild tumult arose; the Arabs, yataghans in hand, rushed upon
+the three nearest prisoners, and literally chopped them in pieces.
+Having tasted blood, they butchered right and left. Only a few prisoners
+still remained, and among them was the reporter.
+
+Albert, in a daze, gazed at the massacre and the pools of blood which
+already threatened to reach his feet.
+
+Gratillet now fell. No shot had struck him. Horror had no doubt put an
+end to the poor fellow's life.
+
+Before Albert had time to realize the imminent danger of his situation,
+the scene changed as if by magic. The sheik and his subjects, followed
+by the marabout, took to their horses and suddenly disappeared. None of
+them thought of their principal victim, and the captain tried in vain to
+guess the riddle.
+
+Darkness set in, and by the dying rays of the sun Albert saw a cavalcade
+coming up the road to Uargla. At the head of the procession rode a tall
+man, whose green turban denoted that the wearer had made a pilgrimage to
+Mecca, for only those who visit the Kaaba have the right to decorate
+themselves with the sacred emblem.
+
+Who could this man be? Albert had never seen him, and yet the green
+turban appeared to him to be a sign of approaching rescue.
+
+The man who wore this green turban was Maldar. He had been gone a year,
+and his return had been the signal for the revolt to break out. All the
+prisoners that were taken he had ordered to be confined until his return
+from Mecca. He was very angry when he heard that the prisoners had been
+massacred.
+
+"Unfaithful, traitorous people!" he exclaimed at the mosque at Uargla.
+"Who told you to disobey my orders?"
+
+The Khouans begged pitifully for mercy.
+
+"Allah demands obedience," continued Maldar; "and now bring the young
+prisoner, who is waiting in front of the mosque, for the sentence."
+
+The sheik departed, and soon returned with Spero, who was tightly bound.
+The lad was pale, but courage shone from his dark eyes.
+
+"Come nearer," said Maldar, "and tell me your name."
+
+"Why do you wish to know, and by what right?" asked Spero, folding his
+arms.
+
+Maldar gnashed his teeth.
+
+"By right of the strong, and with the right to punish you for the sins
+of your country. What is your name?"
+
+"Spero."
+
+"Spero means hope. Tell me now the name of your father?"
+
+"My father is the Count of Monte-Cristo!"
+
+"I know. Your father is one of those brainless fools who imagine every
+one must bend the knee to them. What rank does he occupy in your
+country?"
+
+"He is a prince who governs the souls of men."
+
+"Your father is rich--very rich?"
+
+"What does that concern you?"
+
+"You are brave, and your father must love you."
+
+Spero did not answer, but his eyes sparkled when Maldar spoke his
+father's name.
+
+"I will know how to strike your proud father; he shall grovel in the
+dust at my feet. I--"
+
+He stopped short. A new idea seemed to have taken possession of him.
+
+"All the prisoners are dead, are they not?" he asked, turning to a
+sheik.
+
+"No, master, one still lives, a French officer."
+
+"His name?"
+
+"Captain Joliette."
+
+In spite of his self-control, Spero gave a cry of astonishment, for he
+knew that it was to rescue the captain that Monte-Cristo had set out for
+Africa.
+
+"Go," said Maldar, "bring the prisoner here."
+
+The sheik left, and Maldar walked up and down with his big strides.
+
+"Master!" cried the sheik, running in breathlessly.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Captain Joliette is gone."
+
+"Gone!" screamed Maldar in a rage. "Within one hour he must be brought
+back to the Kiobeh. If not you must answer with your head; and now bring
+the lad to the iron chamber, and see that he does not escape!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVI
+
+THE FLIGHT
+
+
+By what miracle had Albert escaped?
+
+The reader will recollect that Gratillet had fallen into the sea of
+blood which had streamed from the wounds of the victims. As soon as the
+Khouans had gone a flock of vultures immediately encircled the scene of
+the massacre and began to hover about the dead bodies.
+
+Albert was leaning with closed eyes against the post, when a well-known
+voice angrily cried:
+
+"Captain, let us think now of our rescue."
+
+It was Gratillet.
+
+"Let me die," murmured Albert, wearily. "I do not care to live any
+more."
+
+"You are talking nonsense. Die, forsooth! Shake off your torpor and be a
+man."
+
+"Through what miracle did you recover your life?"
+
+"None, I tell you. I never was dead; only shamming. Oh, if I only had a
+knife."
+
+While Gratillet was talking he worked at Albert's cords with his teeth
+and nails, and finally succeeded in freeing him.
+
+"And now," he said, "let's decamp, and that as soon as possible."
+
+The two men were soon on the road, the journalist peering about and
+keeping up a lively conversation.
+
+"Here is a narrow pathway!" exclaimed the reporter suddenly. "Captain,
+lie down on the ground near me, and we can continue our little walk on
+all-fours."
+
+Albert followed the journalist's orders, and the next minute was lying
+on the ground near his companion.
+
+"Well done," said Gratillet. "Now we must be very careful, for it is
+pitch dark and banisters are unknown in Uargla. Ah, now I know where the
+pathway comes from. It is a ditch which gets the rain from the rocks."
+
+"Do you need a cord?" asked Albert. "If so, I have a scarf which answers
+the same purpose."
+
+"Is it strong?"
+
+"Best of wool and perfectly new."
+
+"How long is it?"
+
+"Four yards."
+
+"Then give it to me."
+
+Albert handed it to him and he bound it about his arms. This done,
+Gratillet swung himself over a precipice and began his dangerous
+journey.
+
+"Flying is not so bad after all," said the reporter. "It is doing
+splendidly and I--"
+
+The scarf broke and Gratillet fell to the bottom, carrying Albert along,
+who had held one end of it.
+
+At the same moment the discharge of musketry was heard. Had they escaped
+from Scylla to fall into Charybdis?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVII
+
+AT THE FOOT OF THE KIOBEH
+
+
+"Forward--to Uargla!" Monte-Cristo had exclaimed when he became aware of
+the loss of his son. Medje urged her horse close to that of the count;
+he noticed her, and a dark suspicion took possession of him.
+
+"Go back, you traitress!" he angrily exclaimed. "You have delivered my
+son over to the Khouans."
+
+A deadly pallor overspread Medje's fine features, and sobbing bitterly
+she let her head fall on the horse's neck.
+
+"Oh, master!" she said, "why do you accuse me?"
+
+"Pardon me, child," said Monte-Cristo gently; "sorrow for the loss of my
+dear son has made me crazy. Oh, if I could only find him again."
+
+"Courage, dear master, courage! Our horses are as swift as the wind. You
+will conquer the Khouans. The lion-killer is invincible!"
+
+After an exhausting ride of three long hours they beheld the minarets of
+Uargla. Monte-Cristo divided his men in two companies; one he commanded
+with Jacopo and Medje, the other he placed in charge of Coucou. Their
+muskets were loaded, and hardly had the count arranged his plan of
+attack, than the gates of Uargla were opened and a band of horsemen rode
+forward to meet him. The Frenchmen allowed the Arabs to approach close
+to them and then fired their first salvo. A second one followed, and
+through the narrow streets the Count of Monte-Cristo and his men entered
+Uargla. A scene of indescribable confusion ensued. The Arabs fled in all
+directions.
+
+In the meantime Coucou at the head of his little company had entered
+through the eastern door, and, having to avenge the murder of his
+friends, he struck blows to the right and left.
+
+"This for Jacques! This for Pierre! This for Jean! Back, you brown
+devils!"
+
+When Monte-Cristo had reached the foot of the Kiobeh, Medje said:
+
+"It is here."
+
+"Light the torches!" commanded Monte-Cristo.
+
+It was done.
+
+"In the name of Allah, the merciful and charitable God," exclaimed the
+count.
+
+Three times he repeated the words. For a time all was silent. After a
+while the door of the fortress opened and Maldar appeared on the
+threshold.
+
+"Who are you, who comes here as an enemy?"
+
+"Let us not fight with words," replied Monte-Cristo. "It was your people
+who first attacked us."
+
+"Blood has flowed," replied Maldar, coldly; "and it falls back upon your
+head."
+
+"Your people have made prisoners; sneakingly surprised people at night
+and carried them away. What have you done with these prisoners?"
+
+"They are dead."
+
+"All?"
+
+"All!"
+
+"All dead?" exclaimed Monte-Cristo, trembling. "Woe to you, if you have
+spoken the truth."
+
+"You are false servants of the prophet," cried Medje, "and Allah's
+eternal curse will rest upon you. Have you heard?" she added, turning to
+Monte-Cristo's companions; "the wretch says he has murdered all the
+prisoners."
+
+"In the devil's name!" exclaimed Coucou. "He shall pay for that."
+
+"You acknowledge that you were cowardly enough to murder defenceless
+men," said Monte-Cristo, after a pause, to Maldar; "have you been so
+base as to kill an innocent child?"
+
+"Are you speaking of your own son?"
+
+"Yes. Is my son dead?"
+
+"Your son still lives," replied Maldar.
+
+Monte-Cristo uttered a cry. His son lived and was behind these walls.
+
+"You are Maldar. You have enjoyed my hospitality. What crime have I
+committed that you should punish me through my child?"
+
+"The crime of your race! You are a son of France."
+
+"You say I am a son of France. Have you not served that country too?"
+
+"Only dissimulation. I waited for a favorable opportunity."
+
+"What will you do with my son?"
+
+"The decision depends on you."
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"Come with confidence to us," replied Maldar, earnestly. "In the
+citadel I will discuss your son's ransom with you."
+
+"Do not go, master," cried Coucou; "they are laying a trap for you."
+
+Monte-Cristo strode, nevertheless, toward the door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVIII
+
+MONTE-CRISTO BECOMES EDMOND DANTES
+
+
+"Maldar," the count cried aloud, "I am here."
+
+The door was opened. Monte-Cristo went into a large courtyard. Maldar
+was waiting for him.
+
+"Here I am," said the count. "You have called me about the ransom for my
+son. What is the sum you ask?"
+
+"I did not say it should be money."
+
+"Then take my life--anything you wish."
+
+"What I want of you is neither gold nor your life. I know who you are,
+and the position you occupy in your country. Your countrymen have
+confidence in you, and I--"
+
+"Go on--go on," urged Monte-Cristo.
+
+"Have patience. Come here and write."
+
+Maldar went toward a table upon which were writing materials, and,
+pressing a pen in Monte-Cristo's hand, he shoved a piece of paper toward
+him.
+
+The count was silent, and seated himself at the table.
+
+"I, the Count of Monte-Cristo," the Arabian began to dictate, "inform
+the Governor of Themcen that I am at Uargla, and have won the confidence
+of the Sultan Maldar. More than one hundred French prisoners are in the
+Kiobeh. The Khouans are not numerous and do not anticipate an attack.
+The defile of Bab-el-Zhur is easy to reach and only poorly defended. A
+force of bold soldiers could secure possession of the city in an easy
+manner. Success is certain."
+
+Monte-Cristo, without hesitation, had written the words down, and the
+Arabian, looking sharply at him, continued:
+
+"Put your name under what you have just written--"
+
+"One word more," interrupted the count. "I understand your aim. You want
+to lead a French detachment in ambush?"
+
+"Yes. For the head of your son, I require those of a hundred Frenchmen."
+
+"Spero," cried the count, "my darling boy, should I, your father,
+ensnare one hundred Frenchmen into an ambush? I have written the letter,
+the signature alone is missing; hear me, while I read it to you."
+
+Monte-Cristo, in a trembling voice, read the letter.
+
+"Spero, my son, choose between life and death. Shall I sign the letter?"
+
+"You cannot hear his voice," said Maldar; "but wait a moment, and I will
+have him brought here."
+
+He motioned with his hand. The door was thrown open, and the next minute
+Spero lay in his father's arms.
+
+"Speak, Spero, what shall I do?"
+
+The boy took the paper and tore it into pieces.
+
+"Let them kill us," he said, firmly.
+
+When Maldar heard these words, he gave a wild yell and sprang upon the
+boy.
+
+"Wretched worm!" he hissed; "are you aware that I can break every bone
+in your body?"
+
+Saying this, Maldar drew a long pistol from his belt and pointed it at
+the boy's face. Quick as thought Monte-Cristo seized the Arab by the
+throat, and threw him among the Khouans.
+
+"Fire--fire!" shouted Maldar.
+
+The men obeyed, but not a bullet entered the room.
+
+"Put your arms about my neck, Spero," said the count, "and have no fear.
+Away with the Count of Monte-Cristo," he added in a vibrating voice;
+"Edmond Dantes, arise from out of the past, and help a father to rescue
+his son."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIX
+
+EDMOND DANTES
+
+
+He placed himself in a winding of the narrow stairs. Here no ball could
+reach him. A Khouan appeared, but the iron bar with which Monte-Cristo
+had armed himself descended on his head with terrific force. A second
+and third received the same reception. Maldar, wild with rage,
+continually screamed:
+
+"Kill him, in the name of Allah!"
+
+Monte-Cristo was struck by a ball, and a dagger was thrust in his foot.
+But he paid no attention to it. He dared not retreat if he wished to
+save Spero. His arm threatened to become lame, his powers were fast
+failing him, and he thought all was up with him. Suddenly he heard loud
+curses uttered in the French language. He recognized them as belonging
+to Coucou and Jacopo. Thank God! they had remembered him and effected an
+entrance.
+
+"Count of Monte-Cristo!" came a loud voice through the night.
+
+Not believing his ears, the count walked to the edge of the roof, and
+saw a sight which nearly caused him to lose his senses. At the foot of
+the tower a troop of horsemen had gathered. The voice he had heard
+belonged to a woman, and by the light of the lightning he recognized
+Miss Clary Ellis, the young girl he had seen at Mercedes' house.
+
+"Count of Monte-Cristo!" Clary exclaimed, in a clear, bright voice,
+"courage! Help is coming."
+
+"Count of Monte-Cristo," came from another voice, "thanks, in the name
+of my mother."
+
+Breathless, with his arm about Spero's neck, the count leaned against
+the wall, and he whom nothing surprised uttered an exclamation of
+astonishment when he looked down.
+
+A man was climbing up the smooth wall. So interested were the count and
+Spero in the picture that they did not hear the stealthy steps behind
+them. Maldar was the man, and he had stretched forth his hands toward
+the boy. The count perceived him in the nick of time, and clutching him
+by the throat, threw him headlong down into the courtyard. The next
+minute the bold climber had jumped over the wall and anxiously cried:
+
+"Count of Monte-Cristo, we must first rescue the child."
+
+He took a long rope and bound it round Spero's waist. Then he let the
+boy gently over the parapet.
+
+"Papa," came Spero's voice from below, "I am safe."
+
+The stranger pulled the rope up anew, and said as he turned to the
+count:
+
+"It is your turn now."
+
+"But you?"
+
+"Oh, never mind me; in case of necessity I will jump off. But be quick,
+we have no time to lose."
+
+Monte-Cristo grasped the cord and was let down by the stranger. Looking
+up, he saw his rescuer sliding down the wall. As soon as he had touched
+the ground, the count went to him and, shaking him by the hand, said:
+
+"You have saved my life, sir, and that of my son. Tell me your name,
+please, that I may know to whom I owe our rescue."
+
+"I am a French colonist, count, and my name is Fanfaro."
+
+Coucou and Albert now ran up to the count.
+
+"The gentleman is evidently a monkey?" he asked the Zouave.
+
+Fanfaro laughed.
+
+Mademoiselle Clary now approached the count.
+
+"How thankful I am," she said, "to have arrived so opportunely."
+
+"And what brought you here?" asked the count.
+
+"I swore to follow you," replied Clary, blushing, "but was delayed so
+many times, that I gave up all hope of rescuing your son. Fortunately I
+came across Monsieur Fanfaro. To him belongs the credit and--"
+
+"And now, I thank God, the matter is over," interrupted Madame Caraman.
+
+"And it was for me, count, that you incurred all these dangers?" asked
+Albert.
+
+Monte-Cristo looked tenderly at the young man.
+
+"I thank God I found you," he said, extending his arms to the young man.
+
+"And now," Albert said, "let me present you to my other rescuer."
+
+Gratillet advanced and, bowing gracefully, said:
+
+"Count, excuse me, please, if my clothes are not exactly fashionable,
+but we have had no time to make our toilet."
+
+Albert and the journalist, instead of having fallen down a precipice,
+had fallen into a lake. When Monte-Cristo heard Gratillet's name, he
+uttered a cry of surprise.
+
+"Monsieur Gratillet," he said, "are you not a friend of Beauchamp?"
+
+"Yes, his friend and reporter."
+
+"But where is Jacopo?" asked the count, looking about for the Corsican.
+
+"Jacopo is dead," said the Zouave; "a bullet shot him through the
+heart."
+
+Monte-Cristo hurried with Coucou and Albert to the spot where Jacopo had
+fallen. Suddenly he struck his forehead.
+
+"What has become of Medje?" he asked.
+
+"Medje?" asked Albert.
+
+"Yes, she brought us here, and--merciful Heaven! here she lies," the
+count exclaimed.
+
+Medje was lying motionless on the ground, with a dagger wound in the
+shoulder.
+
+"Poor Medje!" said Albert.
+
+"Little father," whispered Medje when she had regained consciousness.
+
+She stroked Albert's hand. Then her dark eyelashes closed over her eyes.
+Medje was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LX
+
+SECRETS
+
+
+Monte-Cristo and Albert rode slowly near Fanfaro, while Coucou and
+Gratillet kept the ladies company. The Zouave spoke continually with
+Madame Caraman.
+
+"Tell me," said Coucou, "how did you come to Africa?"
+
+"Because my lady wished it."
+
+"That is a bitter disappointment. I had imagined that it was on account
+of--"
+
+"You--you stupid fool!"
+
+"I will be good, Madame Caraman, if you will tell me how you came to
+Uargla."
+
+"We followed the Count of Monte-Cristo."
+
+"You are in love with him."
+
+"We followed the count because we wished to aid him in rescuing Captain
+Joliette."
+
+"But tell me about the Americans."
+
+"They deserted us as soon as we reached the land. The Arabs had
+previously stolen our camels."
+
+"Infamous race," growled Coucou.
+
+"We were thus all alone in the desert. We suffered from hunger and
+thirst, and had we not fortunately reached the oasis on the second day,
+we would probably lie now buried in the desert. At the oasis we made the
+acquaintance of Monsieur Fanfaro, a handsome man of forty."
+
+"You noticed that," said the Zouave, ironically.
+
+"Monsieur Fanfaro brought us to his farm, where his wife, a charming
+woman, received us. Between ourselves, I do not think Fanfaro has ever
+been a rope-dancer. His manners and features show he must be of good
+family, and I am tempted to call him a second Monte-Cristo."
+
+This Fanfaro, as Madame Caraman had rightfully said, was a remarkably
+distinguished-looking gentleman. Monte-Cristo looked attentively at the
+colonist; he guessed that there was some mystery surrounding the man,
+and that something had caused him to seek a home in the desert. Finally
+they all reached the oasis, and Monte-Cristo breathed more freely. Three
+persons came to meet the travellers: a woman, who led a child by the
+hand, and a strangely formed creature which hopped about and looked more
+like a frog than a human being.
+
+"What is that?" asked the count.
+
+"Oh," replied Fanfaro, laughing, "that is Bobichel."
+
+"Bobichel?"
+
+"Yes, he was once a clown when I was an acrobat. He amuses my little son
+now, by imitating the frog."
+
+Bobichel uttered a cry of joy as he saw the party approach.
+
+"Thank God, master," he gleefully cried, "that you are home again.
+Caillette, Firejaws!" he cried aloud, "he is just returned!"
+
+A woman and a giant hurried at Bobichel's call.
+
+Fanfaro jumped from his horse, and embraced his wife and daughter.
+
+"Irene, have a bed prepared. The child will be intrusted to your care."
+
+Madame Caraman carried Spero into the house. Monte-Cristo examined the
+patient carefully, and breathed more lightly.
+
+"A few days' rest will set him all right again," he said, turning to
+Fanfaro, "and if we can make use of your friendship--"
+
+"Count, what I possess is yours. But let me introduce you to the
+colony," said Fanfaro.
+
+Upon his call his wife appeared, a charming brunette about thirty years
+of age.
+
+"Madame Fanfaro," said the colonist, "followed me to the desert."
+
+"This is Firejaws, the king of athletes. And now it is the turn of
+Bobichel, the clown."
+
+"It looks to me like a fairy tale," said the count. "Were you really a
+tight-rope walker and acrobat before?"
+
+"Yes, count, and I am the only one of us who has given up the profession
+for good."
+
+Monte-Cristo gazed interestedly at the speaker and his wife. Fanfaro, as
+we have before observed, was a fine-looking man, and Madame Irene looked
+like a marquise.
+
+"Monsieur Fanfaro," said Monte-Cristo at table one day, "I do not know
+who you are, but I drink to your health and that of all the other
+members of the colony. May God always protect you and yours!"
+
+"Oh, Monsieur Fanfaro," exclaimed Madame Caraman, "won't you tell us
+your history? I am curious to know it."
+
+"What does Irene say to the proposition?" asked Fanfaro tenderly.
+
+"Oh, I am satisfied," replied the handsome woman, laughing.
+
+"Good, then I shall begin," said Fanfaro.
+
+And while Spero slept Fanfaro began to relate the story of his life. As
+it is long, we shall narrate it in Part II. of "The Son of
+Monte-Cristo."
+
+
+"THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO" (END OF PART ONE)
+
+
+Project Gutenberg has Volume II of this work.
+See http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/22086
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO, VOLUME I
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