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diff --git a/22018-h/22018-h.htm b/22018-h/22018-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b38065 --- /dev/null +++ b/22018-h/22018-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13176 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume I (of 2), by Alexandre Dumas père</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + hr.smler { width: 10%; } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0px; + } /* page numbers */ + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .right {text-align: right;} + .tbrk { margin-top: 2.75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em;} + + .mynote { background-color: #DDE; color: black; padding: .5em; margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 5%; } /* colored box for notes at beginning of file */ + + /* index */ + + div.index ul { list-style: none; } + div.index ul li span.mono {font-family: monospace;} + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 80%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume I (of 2), by +Alexandre Dumas père</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume I (of 2)</p> +<p>Author: Alexandre Dumas père</p> +<p>Release Date: July 7, 2007 [eBook #22018]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO, VOLUME I (OF 2)***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Juergen Lohnert, Martin Pettit,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="mynote"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> + <p> Obvious typographical errors have been corrected, and + inconsistent spelling has been made consistent.<br /> + <br /> + This volume does not have any illustrations. +</p></div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="tbrk"> </p> + +<h3>THE WORKS OF</h3> + +<h2>ALEXANDRE DUMAS</h2> + +<h3>IN THIRTY VOLUMES</h3> + +<p class="tbrk"> </p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/002-1.png" width='31' height='40' alt="logo" /></p> + +<p class="tbrk"> </p> + +<h1>THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO</h1> + +<h3>VOLUME ONE</h3> + +<p class="tbrk"> </p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/002-1.png" width='31' height='40' alt="logo" /></p> + +<p class="tbrk"> </p> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED WITH DRAWINGS ON WOOD<br />BY EMINENT FRENCH AND AMERICAN ARTISTS</h3> + +<p class="tbrk"> </p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/002-2.png" width='139' height='150' alt="publishers logo" /></p> + +<p class="tbrk"> </p> + +<h2>NEW YORK<br />P. F. COLLIER AND SON<br />MCMIV</h2> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="index"> +<ul> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></span> A MARRIAGE CONTRACT AND ITS END</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></span> A CALM BRIDE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></span> A FAMILY TRAGEDY</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></span> A PECULIAR TRIAL</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></span> THE RESULT OF THE CATASTROPHE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></span> BENEDETTO, THE MURDERER</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></span> A MIRACLE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></span> THE SENTENCE OF DEATH</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></span> THE EDITORIAL ROOMS</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></span> PONTOON NO. 2</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></span> THE DEAD LIVE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></span> THE CONFESSION</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.</a></span> FORGIVENESS</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.</a></span> THE RAT-KING</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV.</a></span> IN THE BAGNIO</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI.</a></span> THE ESCAPE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII.</a></span> IN THE MOUNTAIN PASS OF OLIOLLES</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII.</a></span> THE MOTHER</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX.</a></span> ON THE SEA</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX.</a></span> MONTE-CRISTO</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI.</a></span> WITH THE PANDURS</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII.</a></span> THE QUEEN OF FLOWERS</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII.</a></span> GREEN, WHITE AND RED</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV.</a></span> A FIGHT IN THE STREETS</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">XXV.</a></span> THE MASKS FALL</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">XXVI.</a></span> LOVE OF COUNTRY</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">XXVII.</a></span> SHADOWS OF THE PAST</li> +<li><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">XXVIII.</a></span> THE CONSPIRATORS</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">XXIX.</a></span> FATHER AND SON</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">XXX.</a></span> IN THE WELL</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">XXXI.</a></span> SPERO</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">XXXII.</a></span> ECARTE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">XXXIII.</a></span> FORWARD!</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">XXXIV.</a></span> SERGEANT COUCOU</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">XXXV.</a></span> MISS CLARY</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">XXXVI.</a></span> A MOTHER</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">XXXVII.</a></span> THE RING</li> +<li><span class="mono"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">XXXVIII.</a></span> "SEARCH FOR THE WIFE!"</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">XXXIX.</a></span> DEPEND ONLY ON YOURSELF</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XL">XL.</a></span> THE SACRIFICE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">XLI.</a></span> HOW AND WHERE COUCOU TOOK LEAVE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">XLII.</a></span> IN THE SPIDER'S WEB</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">XLIII.</a></span> MANUELITA</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">XLIV.</a></span> THE HUMORS OF A LADY-MILLIONNAIRE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">XLV.</a></span> MALDAR</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI">XLVI.</a></span> MISS CLARY'S SECRET</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII">XLVII.</a></span> AN AMERICAN WAGER</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII">XLVIII.</a></span> THE WEDDING BREAKFAST</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX">XLIX.</a></span> MALDAR'S FAREWELL</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_L">L.</a></span> THE HOLY SIGNAL</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_LI">LI.</a></span> UARGLA</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_LII">LII.</a></span> CAPTAIN JOLIETTE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_LIII">LIII.</a></span> THE LION IN CONFLICT WITH THE LION</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_LIV">LIV.</a></span> MEDJE</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_LV">LV.</a></span> "DO NOT DIE, CAPTAIN!"</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_LVI">LVI.</a></span> THE FLIGHT</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_LVII">LVII.</a></span> AT THE FOOT OF THE KIOBEH</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_LVIII">LVIII.</a></span> MONTE-CRISTO BECOMES EDMOND DANTES</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_LIX">LIX.</a></span> EDMOND DANTES</li> +<li><span class="mono"> <a href="#CHAPTER_LX">LX.</a></span> SECRETS</li> +</ul> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<h1>THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO</h1> + +<hr class="smler" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>A MARRIAGE CONTRACT AND ITS END</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>attraction. Among the latter were more +especially Albert Morcerf, the son of a general, Debray, a young and +talented attaché at the Foreign Office, Beauchamp, and Chateau-Renaud, +who served as the asteroids of the new star in the Parisian sky.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +attaché Debray.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Every one crowded around the count, while the young bridegroom slowly +walked toward a neighboring room.</p> + +<p>"Could you tell us the address?" asked Madame Danglars.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The dazed servants returned from their search, and behind them appeared +a detective accompanied by several policemen.</p> + +<p>"I am looking for a man named Andrea Cavalcanti,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> said the detective, +in the well-known monotonous way which never fails to make an impression +even upon those who are not principals.</p> + +<p>"By what right?" asked Danglars, who could not suppress his uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Andrea Cavalcanti is charged with having murdered the galley-slave +Caderousse, with whom he was formerly chained in the galleys."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>A CALM BRIDE</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What should be done now?" asked her modest friend in an anxious tone.</p> + +<p>"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:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>Louise listened to her friend speechless with astonishment; although she +knew the firmness of her character, she was not prepared for so much +independence.</p> + +<p>"But we two girls alone," she hesitatingly said, "cannot—"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Let us now return to Prince Cavalcanti, <i>alias</i> Benedetto, the hero of +the interrupted party at the banker Danglars' house.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> formed a part of Eugenie's <i>trousseau</i>, 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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The hunted culprit was so tired out by his exertions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> 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:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Andrea, the murderer!" exclaimed the two women.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p><p>"Have mercy! rescue me!" implored Benedetto.</p> + +<p>"It is too late," replied Eugenie, "the door is being opened."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Kill yourself!" exclaimed Eugenie, with the accent of a tragedy queen.</p> + +<p>"Bah!" replied Benedetto, "it is too early yet; the whole thing is a +misunderstanding, and I have friends."</p> + +<p>With great coolness he held out his hands to the policemen, who put +handcuffs on them.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>A FAMILY TRAGEDY</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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, <i>alias</i> 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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>Madame de Villefort turned deathly pale.</p> + +<p>"I do not understand what you mean," she stammered.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>A PECULIAR TRIAL</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Prisoner," said the judge, "stand up and answer the questions I shall +put to you. What is your full name?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p><p>"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."</p> + +<p>The people were dazed at the audacity of the prisoner.</p> + +<p>"How old are you?" continued the judge.</p> + +<p>"I was born on the night between the 27th and the 28th of September, +1807, at Auteuil, near Paris."</p> + +<p>"What is your business?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to give your name now?" asked the judge.</p> + +<p>"I am not able to give you my own name, but I know that of my father."</p> + +<p>"Name it, then."</p> + +<p>"My father is a district-attorney," continued the prisoner with great +calmness, glancing at Monsieur de Villefort, who turned deathly pale.</p> + +<p>"District-attorney?" exclaimed the judge, greatly astonished. "And his +name is?"</p> + +<p>"His name is Monsieur de Villefort, and he is sitting in front of you."</p> + +<p>"You are fooling with the court," said the judge angrily. "I warn you +for the last time and command you to tell the truth."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p><p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And who was your mother?" asked the judge.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>A cry rang through the court-room at this point; a lady had fainted, and +was carried out of the hall by several bystanders.</p> + +<p>At this cry the procureur du roi arose, and showed his ghastly face to +the crowd.</p> + +<p>"How are you going to prove these astounding revelations?" asked the +judge of the prisoner.</p> + +<p>With a malicious look the latter pointed to Monsieur de Villefort.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p><p>"Father, they wish to have proofs; do you also want me to give them?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"The court is adjourned until further notice," said the judge. +"Policemen, take your prisoner back to jail."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE RESULT OF THE CATASTROPHE</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Chateau-Renaud!"</p> + +<p>"Beauchamp," came back the answer; and the two friends cordially shook +hands.</p> + +<p>"Really," said Chateau-Renaud, laughing, "I must be grateful to chance, +which threw me in your way."</p> + +<p>"What brings you here?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p><p>"The trial of his highness Prince Benedetto de Cavalcanti, of course."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Hardly—but here we are. Why, the hall is about empty," exclaimed +Beauchamp, wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Perfectly right; you have an enviable memory," laughingly said +Beauchamp. "Well, does the trial take place?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, it's the third day of the case."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. We can get some refreshments now and pass the time until the +Benedetto case comes up," said Chateau-Renaud.</p> + +<p>"If you desire to attend the trial, I will inform you when it's time," +said the reporter, politely.</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," answered Beauchamp, as he departed with his friend.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p><p>As they were leaving the corridor, Beauchamp nudged his companion +lightly.</p> + +<p>"Every one is not so ungrateful as to forget Benedetto. Debray is here +too."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Chateau-Renaud. "Debray has plenty of time to himself +since the Ministry was overturned and carried a poor <i>attaché</i> along +with it in its fall."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Beauchamp, you are cynical; the relationship reminds one of a +morganatic marriage," Chateau-Renaud laughingly interposed.</p> + +<p>"By the way, has anything new been found out about the Baroness +Danglars?"</p> + +<p>"H'm—they say she has disappeared."</p> + +<p>"And her good, honest husband?"</p> + +<p>"Is knocking about somewhere. God only knows."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"A beautiful constellation. What became of Monsieur de Villefort?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p><p>"He is an incurable maniac, and is in Dr. d'Avigny's private asylum."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Beauchamp, do you believe in miracles?" asked Chateau-Renaud, suddenly.</p> + +<p>"That depends. Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Well, one of my friends gave me his word of honor that he saw +Mademoiselle Valentine in Marseilles."</p> + +<p>"Before or after the funeral?"</p> + +<p>"After, certainly."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Have you heard the fable that the count was a vampire?"</p> + +<p>"Who could have said such a thing? What is old Noirtier doing?"</p> + +<p>"He has gone to the South; and the Morcerf family—"</p> + +<p>"Well, what of them?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing new. The father a suicide, the son in Africa, and the mother +has disappeared."</p> + +<p>"Just like Baroness Danglars."</p> + +<p>"Yes, only with this difference, that Madame de Morcerf and her son gave +their whole fortune to the poor."</p> + +<p>"I am glad for the poor—I—"</p> + +<p>"The Benedetto affair is now on," broke in the voice of the reporter, +interrupting their conversation.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p><p>"Ah—thank you." And with this they all entered the court-room.</p> + +<p>"Beauchamp," whispered Chateau-Renaud, pointing to a veiled lady who sat +near them, "if I wasn't sure that the Baroness Dangl—"</p> + +<p>"Hush! Do not mention any names. I think you are right, but I cannot +understand why she comes in such disreputable company."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Bring in the prisoner," ordered the judge.</p> + +<p>A shudder ran through the lady, but she did not look up as Benedetto +entered.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>BENEDETTO, THE MURDERER</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> over the breast, and even the prisoner's +clothes harmonized with his general appearance.</p> + +<p>A policeman gruffly showed him to his seat. Benedetto bowed deeply, and +sat on the edge of the hard wooden bench.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"May God have mercy on me."</p> + +<p>"And the devil, too," whispered Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud. "Benedetto +has become a howling coward. It's a great pity!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Prisoner, stand up!" said the judge, in a soft voice, "and tell me your +name."</p> + +<p>"Benedetto," replied the former bandit in a modest, almost frightened +voice.</p> + +<p>"Are you guilty of the murder of Caderousse?"</p> + +<p>"Judge," stammered Benedetto, "I must acknowledge my guilt." And burying +his face in his hands, he tried to suppress his sobs.</p> + +<p>"What kind of a comedy is the rascal playing?" grumbled Beauchamp.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" replied Chateau-Renaud, "the proceedings are becoming +interesting."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p><p>Benedetto answered all questions put to him without hesitation.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Call the witnesses," said the judge.</p> + +<p>"Count of Monte-Cristo," cried the clerk.</p> + +<p>No one answered.</p> + +<p>"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 +subpœna?"</p> + +<p>The assistant district-attorney looked over his papers.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Call the other witnesses," said the judge; "we shall attend to Monsieur +de Monte-Cristo's case later on."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Have you anything to say, prisoner?" asked the judge.</p> + +<p>"No, sir, these honest people unfortunately tell the truth," said +Benedetto, meekly.</p> + +<p>A murmur of applause ran round the room. When all was calm again the +clerk exclaimed:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p><p>"Monsieur Noirtier de Villefort!"</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed Beauchamp, springing up, as if electrified, "are they +going to be so cruel as to make this unfortunate man testify again?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Deep silence reigned—the door was opened, and Monsieur de Villefort +appeared on the threshold.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>A MIRACLE</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What were you going to do, Maximilian?" asked Monte-Cristo, sternly.</p> + +<p>"The one thing which is left to an unfortunate who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> has been robbed of +the one most dear to him on earth," the young man replied, in a tone of +resignation.</p> + +<p>"I understand you; he who has known Valentine as I have could readily +excuse the abominable step you were about to take."</p> + +<p>"And do you not approve of it?" asked the young man, in a tone of +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Accepted," said the count, as he stretched out his hand affectionately +toward the young man, who grasped it without hesitation.</p> + +<p>"To-day a month," he continued, "I shall await you on the island of +Monte-Cristo."</p> + +<p>With these words Monte-Cristo left his friend.</p> + +<p>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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> Ali, the black +servant of the count, met him on the wharf and conducted him to the +count's apartments.</p> + +<p>"Here I am, count, to receive the powder from your hands which will +realize my hope to meet Valentine in another world."</p> + +<p>"Nothing can induce you to give up your design then?" asked +Monte-Cristo.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, not even you," answered Morrel, firmly.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"It is hashish. Death is painless and recalls to the person taking it +the most beautiful memories of his life."</p> + +<p>Maximilian embraced his friend and swallowed the pastil.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how sweet is such a death," whispered Maximilian.</p> + +<p>The figure strode nearer to him, embraced him and kissed his burning +forehead.</p> + +<p>"My poor lover," murmured a well-known voice.</p> + +<p>"Valentine," exclaimed Maximilian, "Valentine, is it possible! I am not +dreaming, you are alive! I clasp you in my arms, only to die myself!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p><p>Gradually Maximilian became conscious. He lay in the arms of his +beloved Valentine and his faithful friend Monte-Cristo stood near him.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"I shall leave you alone now, and go back to my apartments, where my +wife, the Countess of Monte-Cristo, awaits me."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>They went to the grotto and asked Jacopo, who had brought Maximilian to +the island, where the count was.</p> + +<p>"I have a letter for both of you from my master."</p> + +<p>"Where is the Count of Monte-Cristo?" they both asked simultaneously.</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Maximilian</span>—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 <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>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,</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Edmond Dantes</span>, Count of Monte-Cristo."</p></blockquote> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>THE SENTENCE OF DEATH</h3> + +<p>Monsieur de Villefort was not alone—Dr. d'Avigny accompanied his +patient, and whispered a word in his ear now and then.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The judge was moved when he arose and delivered the following address to +the jury:</p> + +<p>"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 subpœnaed 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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Villefort, are you able to answer a few questions I shall +address to you?"</p> + +<p>Villefort nodded and stammered with some difficulty: "Yes."</p> + +<p>"Benedetto," said the judge, turning toward the prisoner, "stand up."</p> + +<p>Benedetto obeyed the order.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Pardon, father—pardon!"</p> + +<p>"What does the man want of me?" asked Monsieur de Villefort, who was +gradually recovering his voice, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> to the astonishment of the +spectators was soon in possession of his speech.</p> + +<p>"He calls you father," replied the judge, "you yourself have +acknowledged him as your son."</p> + +<p>Villefort put his hand to his forehead.</p> + +<p>"My son? And he is alive? It is impossible—my children were killed in +my house—my son is dead."</p> + +<p>"Have you forgotten the night of the 27th and 28th of September, 1807?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have forgotten nothing—that son I killed too."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but he escaped death by a miracle, don't you know!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Then you acknowledge your son?"</p> + +<p>Villefort laughed maliciously.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>He stretched out his lean hand toward Benedetto and hissed ironically:</p> + +<p>"You are my son. You have murdered already and will murder again."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>A murmur of emotion ran through the room, and Benedetto, encouraged, +continued in a sobbing voice:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p><p>"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."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Prudence—or all is lost."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Villefort," said the judge solemnly, "you are discharged! +Whatever your faults have been God has made you pay dear for them."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to go yet, I have something to say."</p> + +<p>"Speak then, we are listening," said the judge, surprised.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Villefort," exclaimed the judge, warningly.</p> + +<p>"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 <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word," whispered Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud, "Villefort is +insane."</p> + +<p>"Did you notice that Madame Danglars was struggling with a fainting +fit?" asked Chateau-Renaud.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Debray might know more, he—"</p> + +<p>"Hush! the procureur du roi is speaking. I'll wager that his speech will +be less shrewd than that of the maniac."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Let us not be carried away by pity," he said, "for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon a verdict?" asked the +judge.</p> + +<p>There was intense excitement in the court-room, the spectators literally +holding their breath.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered the foreman; "we find the prisoner guilty, with +extenuating circumstances."</p> + +<p>The spectators clapped their hands.</p> + +<p>"Prisoner, have you anything to say?" asked the judge.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Benedetto, in a calm, dignified manner.</p> + +<p>"The sentence of the court is, that you be sent to the galleys for +life."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"We have kept our word, have we not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but the galleys?"</p> + +<p>"We have saved your head. More we cannot do at present. Have patience."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p><p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Who was the lady, and how did you get here?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know who she is, but she appears to be over forty. As for me, I +am a priest, and committed wrong—"</p> + +<p>At this moment the door was opened, and a voice called:</p> + +<p>"Benedetto! Benedetto!"</p> + +<p>Benedetto arose, and peering through the grated cell-door saw a woman.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" he gruffly asked.</p> + +<p>"I am your mother."</p> + +<p>"My mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I have one favor to ask of you."</p> + +<p>"I am willing to do anything for you."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to stay in Paris?"</p> + +<p>"No, I shall leave France on the 26th of February."</p> + +<p>"And you sail from Marseilles?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The poor woman yearned to embrace her son, whose hypocritical words +awoke the dormant love in her bosom.</p> + +<p>"I promise to see you before I sail on the 26th."</p> + +<p>"Come to Toulon, then, on the 24th. And, by the way, here is a letter +from one of my comrades to whom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> I am under deep obligations. On your +way home drop it into the letter-box."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Good-by," he said. "Do not forget the 24th."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE EDITORIAL ROOMS</h3> + +<p>"Well, my dear Chateau-Renaud, is there anything new?" asked Beauchamp +of his friend, who had paid him a visit to his office.</p> + +<p>"Bah—not much! It's the same old story in the Orient, and outside of +that place nothing ever happens in the world."</p> + +<p>"Nothing? What will you give me if I tell you something which will +interest you, my dear Chateau-Renaud?"</p> + +<p>"That depends. Who is the party?"</p> + +<p>"Our friend, Albert de Morcerf."</p> + +<p>"That is worth listening to: how is the poor fellow getting along?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, splendidly! He distinguishes himself in every battle, and will one +day become a famous general."</p> + +<p>"I hope so. Do you still recollect the hard times poor Morcerf had when +the first article from Yanina appeared in your paper?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And Count Monte-Cristo has disappeared?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p><p>"For the present, yes. Though I am sure that sooner or later he will +show up again."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this?" asked Beauchamp, in a tone of surprise, +as he opened the door.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Beauchamp!" exclaimed the stranger, "I knew you would admit me."</p> + +<p>"At present I have not the honor of your acquaintance," replied +Beauchamp, bowing.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, now I remember," said Beauchamp, in a friendly tone. "What can I do +for you?"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, Monsieur Beauchamp, but I think I can do you a service."</p> + +<p>"Then come into my office, Monsieur—what is your name now?"</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"If I am not mistaken, you interest yourself for Benedetto?"</p> + +<p>"A little, Monsieur Gratillet."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p><p>"Really? Is he going to become a minister, or perhaps a king?"</p> + +<p>"Laugh away; he will not die in the galleys."</p> + +<p>"Then, perhaps, on the gallows; that is sometimes the end of a career +like his."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"A visit?"</p> + +<p>"Just as I tell you. A veiled lady visited him and remained an hour with +him. Her face I could not recognize."</p> + +<p>"Have you got wings with which to pursue Benedetto?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I call that promptness. You saw the lady then?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud looked knowingly at one another, while +Gratillet continued:</p> + +<p>"The lady in question left the prison at ten o'clock and got into her +carriage."</p> + +<p>"A carriage?"</p> + +<p>"No, a hackney coach she had hired."</p> + +<p>"And you followed her again?"</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> 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:</p> + +<p>"'Well, what do you want?'</p> + +<p>"'I have a letter to deliver,' said the lady softly.</p> + +<p>"'From whom?'</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Did you follow her?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Hm! that could be talked over. In the meantime take a cigar."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. Have you ever seen the departure of the galley-slaves from +Bicetre?"</p> + +<p>"No, but I imagine it must be a curious sight."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Why do they do that?" asked Chateau-Renaud.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>"Were you present during the chaining of the convicts, Monsieur +Gratillet?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Are you nearly finished with your story, Monsieur Gratillet?" said +Beauchamp, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Did you know this comrade in chains?" asked Beauchamp, hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"Yes; it was a former priest named Anselmo, if you have ever heard +anything of him."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. The priest was a disgrace to the cloth,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> said Beauchamp. +"So he is Benedetto's companion. A worthy pair."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'Oh, what a beautiful animal!' exclaimed Anselmo; 'present it to me.'</p> + +<p>"'I would be a fool,' replied the hunchback, gruffly. 'I sell my +animals, but I never give them away.'</p> + +<p>"'But I have no money.'</p> + +<p>"'You have a nice ring on your finger, give it to me and you can have my +rat.'</p> + +<p>"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.'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'One word more,' exclaimed Anselmo, 'I do not know the name of my rat!'</p> + +<p>"'The animal is called "Rat King,"' said the hunchback, putting his head +once more through the door.</p> + +<p>"I followed the hunchback; when he turned down a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> narrow street I cried +to him: 'Au revoir, Monsieur Magloire,' and the look he gave me told me +I had guessed right."</p> + +<p>"You believe then—" said Chateau-Renaud.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I desire no greater honor," replied Gratillet, his face beaming with +joy.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>PONTOON NO. 2</h3> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Magloire is a good fellow: the file he sent me is sharp."</p> + +<p>"The file?" repeated Benedetto, not understanding the allusion; "he did +not give you any instrument!"</p> + +<p>"What a stupid fellow you are. But keep patience; later on I will tell +you more."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At first he thought Anselmo would keep his word<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"What is the penalty for those condemned to death?"</p> + +<p>The rat would throw itself flat on the ground, and lie motionless, as if +to appear dead.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> 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:</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it; Benedetto is just as agreeable to me as another; let +us leave things as they are!"</p> + +<p>As soon as the jailer turned away, Benedetto, mad with rage, turned to +the ex-priest and said:</p> + +<p>"Why won't you free me from your society?"</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, you are distasteful to me," interrupted Benedetto, +violently.</p> + +<p>"Really? Your candor pleases me. Under all circumstances, we shall stay +together."</p> + +<p>"And suppose I kill you?" hissed Benedetto.</p> + +<p>"Hem, my boy, that is easier said than done. Besides, I can tell you why +you hate me."</p> + +<p>"I am curious to know! I hardly know myself why I hate you," said +Benedetto, maliciously.</p> + +<p>"Because you think I lied to you, because in prison I spoke of escape, +and have not said a word about that since."</p> + +<p>Benedetto stammered a few unintelligible words, and was ashamed to have +had his thoughts read so easily.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p><p>"You are making fun of me," Benedetto gruffly answered. "Did you +deceive me when you gave me the letter for Monsieur Magloire?"</p> + +<p>"Do you really think so?"</p> + +<p>"What a question! Do you think Monsieur Magloire could aid us in +escaping?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose he has already done so."</p> + +<p>Benedetto looked at his comrade with wide open mouth.</p> + +<p>"Are you really so anxious to escape?" continued Anselmo.</p> + +<p>"Really anxious? I would give my right hand were I able to escape from +prison on a certain day!"</p> + +<p>"And when is that?"</p> + +<p>"I must leave Toulon on the night of the 24th of April."</p> + +<p>"You must! That settles it."</p> + +<p>"Do not be sarcastic—I must be at liberty or else—"</p> + +<p>"Well? or else—"</p> + +<p>"Then, you will not betray me, will you?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Benedetto uttered a cry.</p> + +<p>"Are you speaking the truth?" he breathlessly asked.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What are your conditions?" asked Benedetto faintly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p><p>"Give me half of the million you are seeking to get, and we are quits."</p> + +<p>The Corsican looked tremblingly at the ex-priest.</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" he stammered.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"And you want?" stammered Benedetto.</p> + +<p>"One quarter! I could demand half, but I will be modest."</p> + +<p>"How are you going to secure our freedom?" asked Benedetto after a +pause.</p> + +<p>"That is my affair! I have an accomplice whom I can trust."</p> + +<p>"An accomplice? Who can it be?"</p> + +<p>"Swear to me that you will give me a quarter part of your million, and I +will show him to you."</p> + +<p>Benedetto took the oath. Anselmo whistled for his rat, and, pointing to +the little animal, solemnly said:</p> + +<p>"Here is our savior—the little rat-king will free us!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>THE DEAD LIVE</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"You know, Jean, that I do not like to receive visitors so late at +night," said the physician.</p> + +<p>"The gentleman gave me his card and told me you would receive him."</p> + +<p>The doctor threw a glance at the card. No sooner had he read the name, +Maximilian Morrel, than he hurriedly rose and said:</p> + +<p>"Bring the gentleman in at once."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Doctor," said Maximilian in a solemn voice, "I do not come to the +physician but to the friend of the Villefort family."</p> + +<p>D'Avigny bowed and Morrel continued:</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me how Monsieur de Villefort is getting on?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p><p>"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:</p> + +<p>"'D'Avigny, I have no time to lose; Death is already sitting on my +tongue.'"</p> + +<p>"Then we must be quick," murmured Maximilian to himself, and then +speaking aloud he said: "Doctor, would a great excitement injure your +patient?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"It is a question of a great joy, which, however, is not free from +certain anxieties."</p> + +<p>"You are speaking in riddles, Monsieur Morrel."</p> + +<p>"Then let me unravel these riddles to you. Valentine de Villefort +lives."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Is it no dream? Does Valentine live?"</p> + +<p>"She lives, and yearns to shake her old friend's hand," replied Morrel.</p> + +<p>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 <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>Villefort harmless, and how he had rescued him, too, from +a suicide's death.</p> + +<p>"And who is this Count of Monte-Cristo?" asked D'Avigny when Maximilian +had ended.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Where is Valentine now?" asked D'Avigny after a short pause.</p> + +<p>"Since the fall of the house of Villefort, Valentine has lived with her +grandfather, Monsieur Noirtier, on his estate near Marseilles."</p> + +<p>"That is the reason, then, why Monsieur Noirtier disappeared so suddenly +from Paris?" said D'Avigny.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And since then?" asked the physician, uneasily.</p> + +<p>"About five days ago Valentine received this note. Please read it and +tell me what you think of it."</p> + +<p>Morrel handed the following letter to the doctor:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Mademoiselle Valentine</span>—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.</p> + +<p class="right">"M. C."</p></blockquote> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p><p>"The Count of Monte-Cristo must have written this note," said D'Avigny. +"The initials M. C. prove it."</p> + +<p>"We thought so, too," said Maximilian.</p> + +<p>"Do you know where the count is now?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the count sometimes appears to be endowed with miraculous powers!" +exclaimed Morrel, enthusiastically. "Valentine immediately travelled +here under my protection. I—"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Papa," he said to the old gentleman, "Monsieur de Villefort is sinking +rapidly."</p> + +<p>"You have come at the right time," said D'Avigny, turning toward +Maximilian; "where is Valentine?"</p> + +<p>"At the home of my sister Madame d'Herbault."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Morrel went away, and the father and son went to Monsieur de Villefort.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE CONFESSION</h3> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Well, is the district-attorney coming?"</p> + +<p>"He will be here soon," replied D'Avigny, to quiet the old man.</p> + +<p>"But I have no more time," exclaimed Villefort, passionately.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Villefort," said the physician earnestly, "you know that +the district-attorney can only be informed in cases of the utmost +importance, and—"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Flambois."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p><p>"I will do so," said Fritz, after an interchange of looks with his +father, and he immediately left the room.</p> + +<p>The old physician also went away, and immediately afterward Morrel +conducted his sister and Valentine into the private office of the +doctor.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"My dearly beloved child," he said, with tenderness. "Thank God that my +old eyes are permitted to see you once more."</p> + +<p>"And my father?" asked Valentine, sobbing.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Valentine and Julie withdrew to an apartment which had been prepared for +them, and d'Avigny and Morrel remained alone.</p> + +<p>"If I could only understand," said the old man meditatively, "how +Monsieur de Villefort ever could have such a daughter."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Valentine's mother, Mademoiselle de St. Meran, had a noble +nature."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p><p>"But she loved Valentine dearly," Morrel remarked.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Villefort, solemnly. "I desire Monsieur d'Avigny to remain +and act as a witness."</p> + +<p>The physician seated himself on the bed, while Monsieur de Flambois took +up a position at the writing desk.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Villefort, we are ready."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But, Monsieur de Villefort," interrupted the official.</p> + +<p>"Let me speak. What would you think of a man who, to save himself, +condemns another in cold blood to imprisonment for life."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p><p>"I would call him a criminal," said Flambois solemnly.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur de Villefort, Benedetto's sentence was commuted to life +imprisonment," said Monsieur de Flambois.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand you," said the district-attorney. "Your daughter +Valentine—"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"I thought as much," muttered d'Avigny to himself,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> while Flambois +looked at his former chief as if the latter were talking Sanscrit.</p> + +<p>"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 +<i>enceinte</i> 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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> 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:</p> + +<p>"'Help, my lord. For pity's sake help me.'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'You have rescued me, sir,' he said in a soft voice, with a peculiar +accent, 'but you will not find me ungrateful.'</p> + +<p>"'Who are you, and what am I to do for you?' I asked him.</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"'Then you are not an Englishman?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'I, an Englishman?' he repeated, with his eyes sparkling with rage; +'what are you thinking of?'</p> + +<p>"'But who then are you?' I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"He looked searchingly at me.</p> + +<p>"'You are young,' he then said, 'you do not know what betrayal is; I +will confide in you! Besides, you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> are a Frenchman and hate the English +as I do. Tell me where is the Emperor Napoleon at present?'</p> + +<p>"'In Paris.'</p> + +<p>"'Are you sure?'</p> + +<p>"'Positive.'</p> + +<p>"'You love the emperor?'</p> + +<p>"'I am his faithful servant.'</p> + +<p>"'Thank Heaven. Would you assist me to reach Paris?'</p> + +<p>"'Paris?' I repeated in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"'Yes, I must reach the capital as soon as possible. I must rescue the +emperor.'</p> + +<p>"'The roads are not safe,' I hesitatingly replied, 'and if you have no +passport—'</p> + +<p>"'You are an official,' he interrupted me, 'perhaps a judge?'</p> + +<p>"'I am what is called in England attorney for the crown.'</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"'And your home?'</p> + +<p>"'Is the Orient, the land of the sun,' he said with emotion, as his eyes +filled with tears. 'I am an Indian prince.'</p> + +<p>"'That is the reason you hate England!' I suddenly exclaimed, as a light +dawned on me.</p> + +<p>"'Hate it! I curse it!' he said, in a choking voice. 'It is the home of +traitors and murderers.'</p> + +<p>"'But did you not tell me a little while ago that you were of French +descent?'</p> + +<p>"'Yes. Have you forgotten the names of those <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>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.'</p> + +<p>"'Then you are really a Frenchman?'</p> + +<p>"'No; I call myself Mahratta; the blood of my mother betrays itself in +my veins, for she was the daughter of a prince.'</p> + +<p>"'And her name?'</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"The handsome youth stood before me like a prophet, and I +enthusiastically exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"'Whatever I can do to assist your plans shall be done. Tell me your +name, and I will fill out your passport.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p><p>"'I am the Rajah Siwadji Daola,' he said.</p> + +<p>"'And your sister?' I asked; 'is she free, too?'</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"'To France? Have they a place to go to here?' I eagerly asked.</p> + +<p>"'Let my sister and her husband find protection in your house,' he +simply said, 'and the gods will reward you.'</p> + +<p>"I hesitated for a moment, and then I cordially answered:</p> + +<p>"'Let it be as you say—my house shall be open to your sister!'</p> + +<p>"'A thousand thanks,' he joyfully cried. 'And so that you know my +sister, look here.'</p> + +<p>"He took out of his silk belt the half of a peculiarly formed bracelet, +and handed it to me with the words:</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'When can I get the pass?' he asked.</p> + +<p>"'To-morrow morning. What name shall I put in?'</p> + +<p>"'The name of my father—Jean d'Arras.'</p> + +<p>"The rajah, upon my solicitation, threw himself on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Villefort," said D'Avigny, anxiously, "you are exerting +yourself too much; postpone the continuation until to-morrow."</p> + + +<p>"No, no," replied Villefort, "I must speak to-day; to-morrow would be +too late.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'You are Monsieur de Villefort?' she said, in a gentle voice.</p> + +<p>"'Yes, and you are Naya,' I said, to make sure.</p> + +<p>"'I am. My husband, the Rajah Duttjah, is dead. Save my child!'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p><p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'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—'</p> + +<p>"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!</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"One hour later my wife awoke, and when she asked for our child, I gave +her Naya's daughter!"</p> + +<p>"Did not Madame de Villefort ever hear of the change which had been +made?" asked the district-attorney.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; my wife had placed a small chain with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>Upon a wink from Villefort, Monsieur de Flambois opened the portfolio +designated; everything was found there as he had said.</p> + +<p>"Did you never hear again from Daola?" said d'Avigny after a pause.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p><p>"This is my confession. Now use justice and erase from the headstone +under which Naya's daughter rests the name of Valentine de Villefort."</p> + +<p>"Suppose Valentine de Villefort is still alive?" asked D'Avigny +solemnly.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>FORGIVENESS</h3> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said the physician quietly, "you know I am a sensible man; +why should I try to tell you a fable?"</p> + +<p>"But I was at the funeral," stammered Flambois.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Then Valentine must have been buried alive," muttered Villefort, fixing +his eyes upon the physician.</p> + +<p>"And if that were the case?" said D'Avigny solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Then I would say God has done a miracle to save the innocent," said +Villefort, the tears starting in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Villefort," said the physician, earnestly, "do you know how +Valentine died?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p><p>"Too well—she was poisoned by my wife."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Madame de Villefort wished to have Valentine's fortune go to her son."</p> + +<p>"That is dastardly," said the district-attorney.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember; you mean the Count of Monte-Cristo," said Villefort, +with emotion.</p> + +<p>"The Count of Monte-Cristo," repeated the district-attorney, +contemptuously, "the adventurer?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said the district-attorney, doubtingly, "I only believe +what I see; if Valentine de Villefort lives, let her show herself."</p> + +<p>"Maximilian," called D'Avigny, opening the door, "tell Valentine to come +in."</p> + +<p>"Whom did you just call?" asked Villefort, when D'Avigny had closed the +door again.</p> + +<p>"Maximilian Morrel, Valentine's betrothed, the son of the shipping +merchant Morrel, of Marseilles."</p> + +<p>"Morrel—Marseilles—Edmond Dantes," murmured Villefort. "Ah, there is +justice in Heaven!"</p> + +<p>The door was now opened, and Valentine entered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> She strode to +Villefort's bed and sank on her knees beside it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father," she sobbed, embracing him tenderly. "Thank God, I see you +again!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Father, dearly beloved father!" stammered Valentine, weepingly, "why do +you not speak? Have you no word of welcome for your Valentine?"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Flambois, do you still doubt?" asked d'Avigny, softly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, not your statement, but my reason," said the district-attorney, +wiping the tears from his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Valentine," whispered Villefort, in a broken voice, "kiss me. Now I can +die easy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, father, you must not die!" she weepingly cried.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur de Villefort, I have forgotten everything, and only know +that you are Valentine's father," said Maximilian, cordially. "Give us +your blessing."</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>"But, father," said Valentine, passionately, "if my parents are both +dead, and you brought me up, I am nevertheless your daughter."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Father," said Valentine, solemnly, "your wish shall be sacred to me. I +shall go in search of Benedetto, and bring him your last wishes."</p> + +<p>"You are—an—angel," stammered Villefort. "Farewell. +Ah—this—is—death!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p><p>A shiver ran through Villefort's frame—a deep groan—a long breath—he +was dead.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"If I only knew," said Flambois, thoughtfully, "what the papers written +in the Indian language contain—I—"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Flambois," interrupted young D'Avigny, modestly, "if you +give me the documents I will translate them for you."</p> + +<p>"Really? How can you do it?" asked the district-attorney, doubtingly.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Here are the papers," said Flambois, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>They then separated.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Valentine and Maximilian uttered a cry of surprise. Ali bowed deeply, +handed the physician a letter, and disappeared.</p> + +<p>D'Avigny opened it and read the following:</p> + +<p>"Waiting and hoping! In these two words lies the mystery of life. Be +courageous and God will help."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p><p>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:</p> + +<p>"Beware of Benedetto!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>THE RAT-KING</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"That means," hissed Benedetto, "I should tell you my secret."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"I am not so foolish as to imagine that the million will fly into my +mouth like a broiled pigeon," <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>interrupted Anselmo; "but first of all, I +must know if you have some right to this million?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," replied Benedetto; "if the million should slip from my +grasp, I should look upon myself as being robbed."</p> + +<p>"Really—who is the thief?"</p> + +<p>"A woman!"</p> + +<p>"I thought so; the lady no doubt who took charge of the letter?"</p> + +<p>"The same."</p> + +<p>"And you must be set free punctually on the 24th?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, on the 25th the money would be irredeemably lost."</p> + +<p>"H'm! that would be fatal. Well, I shall arrange it."</p> + +<p>"You arrange it? Are you ever going to tell me how you intend to set us +free?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I will call our savior at once," whispered Anselmo, and, whistling +softly, he called the little rat-king to him.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>Benedetto uttered a cry of astonishment. Anselmo waved before his +comrade's eyes a narrow little tooth-saw.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p><p>"Do you believe in my promise now?" the ex-priest triumphantly +exclaimed: "the jailers call our little animal 'rat!' I call him +'necessary.'"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Are you sure of it?"</p> + +<p>"Positive. On the 25th this woman will draw one million to give to +others."</p> + +<p>"You are joking—she intends to give away a million?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and we two will prevent her," said Benedetto, firmly.</p> + +<p>"And who is to get the million?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand. Who is the woman?"</p> + +<p>Benedetto shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Do not bother yourself about that, that is my affair." He answered +indifferently.</p> + +<p>"Is it a former girl of yours?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"A relative?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Good. Keep your secret. Tell me one thing more. Will it be a stabbing +case?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p><p>"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.</p> + +<p>Benedetto became pale as death. He bit his lips and in a hollow voice +replied:</p> + +<p>"What is necessary will occur."</p> + +<p>"Good. I am pleased with you; but look—there comes a lady on our +pontoon. Perhaps that is your millionnairess."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"They take me along too because they can't help it," said Anselmo +wickedly, pointing to the chain which bound them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p><p>The jailer nodded, and the ex-priest whispered in Benedetto's ear:</p> + +<p>"Commit no follies. You look as if you would like to poison every one."</p> + +<p>"That is what I should like to do. But have no fear, I will be +circumspect."</p> + +<p>"Which one of you is named Benedetto?" asked the inspector, gruffly, +turning to the convicts.</p> + +<p>"I," said the former Prince Cavalcanti, modestly.</p> + +<p>"You are wanted. Follow me, but do not speak a word or else you will be +put in the black hole."</p> + +<p>Benedetto bowed silently, and the next minute stood with his comrade +before Valentine.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Sir, Monsieur de Villefort is dead."</p> + +<p>Benedetto's eyes shone. He felt a wild joy at the death of the man he so +bitterly hated.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Who is the lady?" asked Anselmo. "She is very handsome."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p><p>Benedetto remained silent and the ex-priest looked distrustfully at +him.</p> + +<p>Toward evening the blacksmith came, and Benedetto was freed from +Anselmo.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I will let my little rat-king intercede for me," said Anselmo, +laughing, and the jailer nodded.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Come, now, you are frightened, perhaps?" he maliciously asked. The look +he received from his comrade made him pause.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"About fifty steps from the inn," he said.</p> + +<p>"Then please let some one come along with me to show me the way," begged +the lady.</p> + +<p>"Directly, madame. Jean, lead this lady to the vicarage."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, Monsieur Etienne," was the servant's reply, "but the priest is +not at home."</p> + +<p>"What?" said the lady, astonished. "Where is he, then?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. He rode past me this morning. Perhaps the housekeeper +can tell us," added the servant.</p> + +<p>"Good. Let us go there," said the lady, and before the end of five +minutes they were at the vicarage.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"Were you expecting me?" asked the lady, astonished.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I am Madame Danglars," said the lady, quickly.</p> + +<p>The old woman handed her a letter, and invited her to make herself at +home. Upon which she left.</p> + +<p>As soon as the lady found herself alone, she hastily tore open the +letter. It contained a sealed packet, and these lines:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Madame</span>—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.</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Jean Balais</span>, Curate of Beaussuet."</p></blockquote> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p><p>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:</p> + +<p>"Did the priest tell you I was going to stay here over night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame! Your room is ready, and I hope you will sleep soundly," +replied the woman, cordially.</p> + +<p>"The house is safe?" asked Madame Danglars, looking anxiously about.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, madame; we are hid here as if in Abraham's bosom."</p> + +<p>The lady drank the bouillon, and then said:</p> + +<p>"Will you please show me my room?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame! I hope it will please you," replied the woman, as she +walked up the stairs, followed by the lady.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Ah, the closet is as safe as the poor-box," the old lady assured her.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> keys in her pocket. She +then went downstairs again, and, turning to the old woman, said:</p> + +<p>"For the present, good-by; I shall probably be back again before night."</p> + +<p>"Good-by, madame; but do not stay out too late. A storm is coming up, +and the roads of Oliolles are dangerous at night."</p> + +<p>"I will try to be back soon. Adieu."</p> + +<p>Madame Danglars got into her carriage and drove off in the direction of +Toulon.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Will you please step out? Here is the Bagnio."</p> + +<p>With trembling limbs, Madame Danglars left the coach, and slipping a few +gold pieces into his hand, she said:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p><p>"Make yourself comfortable in the nearest saloon; in about three hours +we shall return home."</p> + +<p>"To-day, madame?" asked the man; "that would be impossible."</p> + +<p>"Why impossible? Get fresh horses, I will pay you for everything."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, madame, but the storm, the mistral will come very +soon, and while the mistral lasts we cannot ride."</p> + +<p>"Then I must look for another driver; I cannot delay my return."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I will think about it, but doubt whether I shall follow your advice. +Adieu."</p> + +<p>Madame Danglars entered the office of the port inspector and the driver +drove off.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>IN THE BAGNIO</h3> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"You are aware that such an interview can only take place in the +presence of the chaplain?"</p> + +<p>Madame Danglars became frightened. She had not expected this.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> him except in the presence of the port inspector and the +jailer."</p> + +<p>"A lady?" exclaimed Madame Danglars, vivaciously. "Can you tell me who +she was?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly, it was Mademoiselle de Villefort, the daughter of the +recently deceased district-attorney."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Villefort is dead?" said Madame Danglars in a choking +voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame, he died in a private lunatic asylum in Paris. Did you know +the gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, slightly," replied Madame Danglars, restraining her emotion. "If +you would let the gentleman be informed now—"</p> + +<p>"At once, madame," said the official.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Madame, I am aware of the reason which brings you here."</p> + +<p>"What, you know?" exclaimed Madame Danglars, frightened.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> 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:</p> + +<p>"My son, thank God for his mercy, and try to show yourself worthy of +it."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"My poor, poor son!"</p> + +<p>"A thousand thanks, mother, for coming," said the hypocritical convict.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I desired to come, it was necessary for me to see you again," +stammered the poor woman.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"For your sake, then. But, tell me, mother, are you really going to +leave France?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; to-morrow, at this hour, I shall sail."</p> + +<p>"But you are not going alone; the journey is so far, and I fear danger +for you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p><p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I forgot. You gave your fortune to buy this protection—the price +you paid was pretty steep."</p> + +<p>"Benedetto, you blaspheme. Your life is not too dear for me to +purchase."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do not give up all hope yet," exclaimed Madame Danglars, +vivaciously.</p> + +<p>"What? Have you still got the million?" asked Benedetto, hastily.</p> + +<p>"I shall not deliver the money before to-morrow. But that has nothing to +do with the matter. What I have promised, I keep."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, God!" sobbed Benedetto, "if I could only accompany you."</p> + +<p>"I would be glad, too; I have a rough road to go <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>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."</p> + +<p>"But why do you not stay in Toulon until the morning?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible. I must hurry back to Beaussuet. I left the money at the +vicarage."</p> + +<p>"Wasn't that careless? A lonely vicarage, whose owner is absent—"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But the portfolio must be a large one. It is not so easy to wrap up a +million," said Benedetto, inquisitively.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Bless me, mother."</p> + +<p>Madame Danglars placed her trembling hands on his head, and tenderly +whispered:</p> + +<p>"God be with you!"</p> + +<p>Her strength deserted her; and while Benedetto was being led out by a +jailer, she leaned faintingly against a chair.</p> + +<p>The priest consoled her. She sorrowfully shook her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>head, collected +herself, slipped a thousand-franc note into the priest's hand, and +murmured:</p> + +<p>"Give that to those who are as unhappy as I am."</p> + +<p>The next moment she wrapped her cloak firmly about her, and strode +toward the inn where the driver awaited her.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE ESCAPE</h3> + +<p>"Well," said Anselmo to his comrade as the latter returned, "how do +things stand?"</p> + +<p>Benedetto did not answer at first, but seated himself on a block of wood +and looked steadfastly before him.</p> + +<p>"Well, has the million been stolen?" asked Anselmo, growing impatient.</p> + +<p>"No, the million is safe for us," replied Benedetto.</p> + +<p>"So much the better. This mistral is very favorable to us. It helps our +escape."</p> + +<p>"Really? Anselmo, we must be free in two hours."</p> + +<p>"I shall look out for that—but what will happen then? Have you a plan?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Do you know the village of Beaussuet?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It is near the gorge of Oliolles."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But suppose we should be locked up in the pontoons?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p><p>"That is what I desire. We must flee by way of the pontoons."</p> + +<p>"And our chains?"</p> + +<p>"Have you forgotten our little Rat King?"</p> + +<p>"You are talking nonsense again."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Lie flat on the ground," Anselmo ordered, "and feel about with your +hands."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What a noise you make," grumbled Anselmo. "You have disturbed our poor +little Rat King from his work."</p> + +<p>"Ah, now I feel a split, too. Has the rat gnawed it through?" whispered +Benedetto, gleefully.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Ah! then we are to escape by swimming?" asked Benedetto, surprised.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p><p>"Have you finally found out? You are not afraid, are you?"</p> + +<p>"No, no!" exclaimed Benedetto hastily. "Freedom at any price."</p> + +<p>"Now you please me! Let us go now and take up our work again before our +absence is noticed."</p> + +<p>"One word more! Have you thought of our clothes?"</p> + +<p>"I have thought of everything. Trust in me."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Are you ready?" whispered Anselmo to his comrade.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then forward! It is a question of life or death."</p> + +<p>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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>IN THE MOUNTAIN PASS OF OLIOLLES</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Who is this Father Jacob?" asked Madame Danglars of the innkeeper.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he is a former city boarder," replied the host, laughing, as he +gave a suggestive glance in the direction of the Bagnio.</p> + +<p>Madame Danglars shuddered.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p><p>"Does he know how to drive?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"So you want to drive me to Beaussuet?" asked Madame Danglars, +vivaciously.</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame, for five hundred francs."</p> + +<p>"Then harness your horses at once."</p> + +<p>"But," stammered the ex-convict, scratching his head, "I make it a rule +to take money in advance."</p> + +<p>"Good! Here is the money, and go quick, because I am in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"I will be so," replied Jacob, as he whipped the horses and drove off.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Madame, I must give you your money back. We will not be able to reach +Beaussuet."</p> + +<p>The storm whistled and roared with bitter fury. Madame Danglars looked +anxiously at the man, and in a hollow voice asked:</p> + +<p>"Where are we?"</p> + +<p>"The devil only knows. These passes look all alike."</p> + +<p>"But we cannot remain here. What would become of us?" said the poor +woman sobbing.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, do not carry on so," Jacob consolingly said.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>The face of the ex-convict darkened; Madame Danglars looked anxiously at +him, and murmured softly:</p> + +<p>"May God have mercy upon me!"</p> + +<p>The man paused for a moment and then said:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p><p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And you promise me you will go ahead again as soon as the storm is +over?"</p> + +<p>"As true as I stand here," the man replied.</p> + +<p>Madame Danglars rose up and got out, while Jacob unharnessed the horses +and took one of the coach lamps in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Now follow me," he said, holding the lantern aloft.</p> + +<p>He threw the reins about his arm and strode bravely along, while Madame +Danglars slowly walked behind.</p> + +<p>As Jacob had said, the storm had decreased in intensity. A fine rain +poured down, and the poor woman strode on with renewed courage.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Almighty God!" exclaimed Madame Danglars in terror.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"How did the cap get here?" asked Madame Danglars, excitedly.</p> + +<p>"That is easy to say. A convict has thought fit to free himself from the +kindly care of the Bagnio <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Where did you get that pretty cap?"</p> + +<p>"My coachman found it," said Madame Danglars softly.</p> + +<p>"On the road?" exclaimed the men, rising as if electrified.</p> + +<p>"We must hurry! Who is going along?"</p> + +<p>"I—I!" came from all sides, and, as Madame Danglars looked from one to +the other, the innkeeper said:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p><p>"The escaped convict cannot have been long in the Bagnio!" exclaimed a +peasant looking closely at the cap. "The thing is almost new."</p> + +<p>"Is there no name on the lining?" asked another.</p> + +<p>"No, only a number—88!"</p> + +<p>Madame Danglars gave a loud scream and with difficulty stammered:</p> + +<p>"Show me the cap?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, gentlemen," said Madame Danglars firmly; "I will make you +a proposition. Let the convict escape."</p> + +<p>"And our hundred francs?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The men looked up.</p> + +<p>"The weather is terrible," said one.</p> + +<p>"And a bird in the hand is worth two in a bush," said another.</p> + +<p>"But we are three?" said the third, with a look of cupidity.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p><p>"You shall have three hundred francs, but let the convict escape."</p> + +<p>"Good, madame! Your wish shall be fulfilled," said the men, after a +pause; "but suppose he should be captured by some one else?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>At this minute a shot was heard, and a firm voice cried:</p> + +<p>"Help! help! Hold him!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The door was now torn open, and a great crowd entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Forward, you horse thief," Jacob's rough voice was heard saying; "we +just captured you in time."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Let me alone," he cried, breathlessly. "I am tied already. I cannot +escape."</p> + +<p>Madame Danglars muttered a prayer of gratitude. No, that was not +Benedetto's voice.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> 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!"</p> + +<p>While the people crowded about Jacob, Madame Danglars drew near to the +convict.</p> + +<p>"Did Benedetto accompany you?" asked Madame Danglars, softly.</p> + +<p>Anselmo looked up surprised.</p> + +<p>"Ha! the lady who gave me the letter for Benedetto," he murmured.—"Yes, +Benedetto accompanied me."</p> + +<p>"I want to save him; help me, and I will make you rich."</p> + +<p>Lo! that was the lady with the million. Anselmo looked cautiously about, +then whispered softly:</p> + +<p>"Cut my cords. A knife lies over there."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Now, good-night," said Jacob, putting the empty glass down and drawing +his pistol from his pocket.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE MOTHER</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p><p>"Ah, bah," he thought, "it will be her own fault."</p> + +<p>With a quick movement he broke the glass.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"The mistral delayed her," muttered Benedetto; "I must be quick."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At this moment his sharp ear detected the sound of horses' hoofs.</p> + +<p>"The pursuers," he muttered, and for a moment he was dazed.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>He had just removed two screws, when he heard heavy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> steps coming up the +stairs. His pursuers were at his heels.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Miserable scoundrel, it was your mother—your mother, and you knew it!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>He shook the Corsican like a madman, and continually repeated the words:</p> + +<p>"Scoundrel! Murderer! Monster! It is your mother!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Anselmo obeyed. During their desperate ride, he had been told by the +poor mother what Benedetto was to her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"Sir," muttered the baroness, faintly, "swear to me that you will let +Benedetto escape. Do not pursue him, and I die peacefully."</p> + +<p>"I swear it," said Anselmo, in a hollow voice.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, a thousand thanks! Benedetto, embrace me and fly."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Benedetto," she whispered faintly.</p> + +<p>Her breath ceased—she was dead.</p> + +<p>"I have the million," said Benedetto, after a pause, "come!"</p> + +<p>Instead of answering, Anselmo tore the knife from out of the breast of +the dead woman and, holding it toward the son, hissed:</p> + +<p>"Go, monster, or I shall break my oath and kill you."</p> + +<p>Benedetto hesitated no longer, took the portfolio which lay on the +floor, and bounded down the stairs.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>ON THE SEA</h3> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Thunder and lightning! what do you mean by disobeying my orders? Have +you got cotton in your ears?"</p> + +<p>"No, captain," replied the oldest sailor, "we do not disobey your +orders, but why should we carry them out, since we are lost anyhow?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p><p>"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?—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, captain," interrupted a sailor, "but that was different."</p> + +<p>"How so? What do you mean? Open your mouth, or—"</p> + +<p>"That time we did not have any branded men on board," said the sailor, +firmly.</p> + +<p>"No branded men? Are you mad?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with the man?" asked the captain, gruffly.</p> + +<p>"When he came on board at St. Tropez he was covered with blood, and—"</p> + +<p>"Well, what then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, his hair is shaved clean to the skin, as if he just came from the +Bagnio."</p> + +<p>"One would think," exclaimed the captain, loudly, "you are all saints. +Do you remember, Pietro, what you had done before I shipped you?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p><p>"Bah! I killed a Custom House officer, that is no crime."</p> + +<p>"So, and what was the matter with you, Rosario?"</p> + +<p>"Captain," answered Rosario, proudly, "you ought to know what a vendetta +is."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I say so? You are all as innocent as newborn babes. You ought to +be ashamed of yourselves."</p> + +<p>In spite of his apparent indifference, the captain felt inwardly uneasy, +and the sailors' statements appeared to him to be well founded.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The boatswain now approached Gennaro.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p><p>"Well, Mello," said the captain, trying to appear indifferent, "do you +also think the frigate is lost because the branded man is on board?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Mello, briefly, "if God does not perform a miracle."</p> + +<p>At this moment a terrific crash was heard, and with loud cries the +sailors rushed on deck.</p> + +<p>"A waterspout; we are sinking!" they exclaimed, terror-stricken. "Help, +captain, help!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"To the pumps, men!" exclaimed Gennaro—"to the pumps!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Only two persons remained behind.</p> + +<p>"Pietro," said one of them to the other, "are you anxious to swallow +water?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Corpo di Dio</i>, no!"</p> + +<p>"How do you expect to save yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, there is still a remedy!"</p> + +<p>The men exchanged knowing looks, and then one of them whispered:</p> + +<p>"Be careful; do not let the captain hear of it; he might hinder us."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p><p>As he said this, he looked toward the stranger, who was still lying +motionless on the deck.</p> + +<p>"Comrade," said Pietro to the stranger, "are you aware that we are +sinking?"</p> + +<p>A look of horror met the speaker, and then Benedetto, for it was he, +said:</p> + +<p>"Is there no rescue possible?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; with money you can do anything."</p> + +<p>"Then rescue me, and I will pay you what you ask."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Benedetto nodded. When had he ever said no to any deviltry?</p> + +<p>With staggering steps he followed the two sailors.</p> + +<p>"Here!" exclaimed Pietro.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>The package enveloped in sail cloth, and which contained his fortune, +the wretch firmly clasped.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>MONTE-CRISTO</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"My darling," said the man softly, as he pressed a kiss upon the +raven-black hair.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how I love you, my friend, my husband," she whispered in the same +tone.</p> + +<p>"Did the storm frighten you, Haydee?" asked the man anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I am never frightened when you are near me," the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> pretty Greek +laughingly replied; "you ought to know me better."</p> + +<p>"Nature, Haydee, is sometimes stronger than the will of man."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Are you aware, Haydee, that we shall reach our destination in an hour?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>At this moment an old sailor approached them and in a tone of awe said:</p> + +<p>"Count, are we going to Monte-Cristo?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Jacopo bowed, and shortly afterward Ali appeared.</p> + +<p>"Ali," said the count, turning to the Nubian, "have you carried out my +orders?"</p> + +<p>Ali folded his arms across his breast and nodded his head.</p> + +<p>"And you know that your life is at stake?"</p> + +<p>Ali again nodded.</p> + +<p>"Good; you can go."</p> + +<p>"You frighten me," said Haydee, clinging to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> count. "Ali is so +devoted to you, and if we should lose him—"</p> + +<p>"Have no fear, child; we will not lose him if he does his duty."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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—</p> + +<p>"Count," said Bertuccio, "we shall land directly. Have you any new order +for me?"</p> + +<p>"No, Bertuccio; you know my orders for Ali; they suffice."</p> + +<p>Bertuccio departed, and immediately afterward the ship came to anchor.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Come back for us in two hours."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"Haydee," said Monte-Cristo finally, "what is your decision?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"And now, Haydee—now—"</p> + +<p>"Now justice is satisfied and you will become merciful," whispered the +young woman softly.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Ali?" he asked, turning to the Nubian, who stood +uneasily on a sharp ledge of the rock.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p><p>Ali threw himself at full length on the ground and closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" exclaimed the count, "you have a man on this rock?"</p> + +<p>Ali nodded gleefully.</p> + +<p>"And do you know who he is?"</p> + +<p>Ali's look expressed doubt. He put his hand to his forehead and shook +his head to indicate that his memory had deserted him.</p> + +<p>"Is the man wounded?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," nodded Ali.</p> + +<p>"Dead?"</p> + +<p>"No," shaking his head.</p> + +<p>"But he is not able to move?"</p> + +<p>Ali's face lighted up again when he saw he was understood.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I shall accompany you," said Haydee, pleadingly; "let me take part in +your good deeds."</p> + +<p>"Then come, my darling," said Monte-Cristo, in whose eye a tear +glistened, and they both followed Ali, who hurried toward the beach.</p> + +<p>As they passed by the entrance to the grotto, Haydee noticed that +Bertuccio was making a hole in the rock with his pickaxe.</p> + +<p>"What is Bertuccio doing?" asked Haydee, curiously.</p> + +<p>"You shall find out later on," replied the count, and, turning to +Bertuccio, he asked in a low voice:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p><p>"Is the work nearly finished?"</p> + +<p>"Almost, count. I have just one thing more to do, and as soon as you +give the sign, all will be over."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Bertuccio, and now follow us."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Ali," he ordered, "run to the grotto and get some rum. Do not lose a +minute, it is a question of life and death."</p> + +<p>The Nubian departed, and Monte-Cristo laid his hand upon the wounded +man's breast.</p> + +<p>"He still lives," he exclaimed, breathing more freely, "and with God's +help we will save him."</p> + +<p>Suddenly a terrible cry was heard behind him, and Bertuccio stammeringly +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, it is the wretch, the murderer! Do you not recognize him?"</p> + +<p>The count bent over the wounded man, and washing the blood from his face +he exclaimed in horror:</p> + +<p>"Really, it is Benedetto!"</p> + +<p>"Back, sir," cried Bertuccio in a rage, as he swung his pickaxe, "I will +crush the viper's skull."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>"Bertuccio," he said coldly, "what right have you to play the judge in +my presence?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"He is a man, he must be saved."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The count examined the wound.</p> + +<p>"He will live," he said decisively. "The wound is not dangerous."</p> + +<p>"It would be better for society if he died," hissed Bertuccio.</p> + +<p>"Bertuccio," said the count sternly, "get some water and wash out this +wound."</p> + +<p>"But, count, I—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you! Either you obey, or we shall separate."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p><p>"I will try to open it with my key."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Count," said Bertuccio, approaching, "he is opening his eyes."</p> + +<p>"Did he recognize you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, he is still confused."</p> + +<p>"So much the better. Keep yourself at a distance. He will recover."</p> + +<p>"What is this?" exclaimed Bertuccio, catching a glimpse of the contents +of the box. "It must be the spoils of some new robbery."</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly," said the count; "but, stay, there is a letter under these +bank-notes which might clear up the mystery."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo shuddered.</p> + +<p>"Hermine Danglars," he muttered to himself. "Poor, poor woman!"</p> + +<p>Shoving Bertuccio aside, he bent over Benedetto, and said, in a voice +which penetrated the deepest depths of the soul:</p> + +<p>"Benedetto, hear me!"</p> + +<p>A shiver ran through the wretch, but the dark eyes remained closed.</p> + +<p>"Benedetto," continued Monte-Cristo, sternly, "you have killed your +mother. Shame upon you, parricide."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p><p>This time Benedetto opened his eyes in terror, and in a faint voice +murmured:</p> + +<p>"My mother! Yes, yes. Mercy!"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo rose. His gaze met that of Bertuccio, in which he read a +silent question.</p> + +<p>"Are you still going to be charitable?" asked Bertuccio's eye. "The +wretch has murdered the mother who bore him? Does he deserve mercy?"</p> + +<p>Just then a merry sailor-song was heard. The bark of the Ice Bird +appeared on the beach to fetch the passengers.</p> + +<p>"Jacopo," exclaimed Monte-Cristo aloud, "listen!"</p> + +<p>Jacopo stood up in the bark, and looked closely at the count, who called +out some words in Maltese dialect to him.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Bring some provisions from the grotto," ordered the count.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> weigh guilt and punishment with each other! Ali, do your duty."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Oh, count," stammered Bertuccio, beside himself, "you have given him +his life."</p> + +<p>"If Almighty God wishes him to be saved, let it be so. He has the right +to punish and forgive," replied the count, solemnly.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Bertuccio and Ali, do your duty!"</p> + +<p>Haydee looked wonderingly at her husband; he took her head in his hands +and earnestly said:</p> + +<p>"My darling, I bury the past at this hour—the grottoes of Monte-Cristo +are no more."</p> + +<p>A column of fire rose from the island—a loud report was heard, and the +treasure chamber of the Cardinal Spada was annihilated.</p> + +<p>Ali and Bertuccio hurried to the yacht, and the Ice Bird flew with all +sails toward the open sea.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>WITH THE PANDURS</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> and cards were provided for the +"spiritual" amusement of the guests.</p> + +<p>An Italian was seldom seen in the Casino, and those that came were +generally those who had taken to the Austrian army.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What is going on at Vienna, Lieutenant Pasky?" asked a young officer. +"Have the riots there any importance?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank God," replied the lieutenant; "the <i>canaille</i> will soon be +brought to their senses."</p> + +<p>"H'm, if the emperor would only be strict," said another.</p> + +<p>"Ah, bah! the mob has no importance."</p> + +<p>"And the cannons generally prove it."</p> + +<p>"Comrades," said an elderly officer, approaching the group, "I think the +affair is serious."</p> + +<p>"How so? What has happened?"</p> + +<p>"Well, the emperor has made concessions."</p> + +<p>"But that would be a shame."</p> + +<p>"They want to repeal the censorship—"</p> + +<p>"That's good. The newspapers could then print what they pleased."</p> + +<p>"The new press-bill is said to be very liberal."</p> + +<p>"A bullet and a rope are the best laws."</p> + +<p>"Besides that, the delegates of the German kingdom and the +Lombardian-Venetian kingdom are going to be called in—"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p><p>A storm of anger rose, and a rough Austrian nobleman, Hermann von +Kirchstein, passionately exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Bravo!" they cried.</p> + +<p>Count Hermann looked proudly about and said:</p> + +<p>"Only as late as yesterday I had an opportunity to show the Milanese who +is master here."</p> + +<p>"Tell us, comrade; tell us all about it," came from all sides.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>The count made a gesture signifying that the lady had lost her balance, +and, amid the coarse laughter of his comrades, he continued:</p> + +<p>"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.'</p> + +<p>"With my sword," continued Count Hermann, "I struck the woman over the +hands until she let go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>"Did the dastardly wretch lie dead on the ground?" asked a young +officer.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Antonio Balbini was strangled this morning, and nailed to the wall of +the prison," said a deep voice, suddenly.</p> + +<p>Every one turned toward the speaker, who continued in a calm voice:</p> + +<p>"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 <i>a la +proviguere</i>—"</p> + +<p>"What is that?" asked a captain, sipping sorbet.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p><p>While he spoke the officers appeared to feel uncomfortable, and if they +laughed, it sounded forced and unnatural.</p> + +<p>"To come back to the <i>proviguere</i>," 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."</p> + +<p>Aslitta laughed again; but, singular thing, the laugh sounded like +long-drawn sobs.</p> + +<p>Count Hermann felt his hair stand on end.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Long live La Luciola! Long live Italy!"</p> + +<p>The officers hurried out. As soon as the hall was cleared, Aslitta +strode toward Major Bartolomeo, and whispered in his ear:</p> + +<p>"To-night in the little house on the Porta Tessina."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>THE QUEEN OF FLOWERS</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>One night as he returned to his home in the Via de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The censor received Salvani cordially, and taking his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>While the two friends were sitting at the piano, and Ticellini marked +several songs and duets, a knock was heard.</p> + +<p>"No one can enter," said Salvani, springing up; "we wish to be alone."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how polite!" exclaimed a clear, bright voice, and as Salvani and +Ticellini looked up in surprise they uttered a cry of astonishment:</p> + +<p>"Luciola!"</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> admirers she preferred. La Luciola +appeared to have no heart.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 café. Amid the laughter +of his comrades the officer left the café, and La Luciola triumphed.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>While they were both meditating how to secure the Luciola in the easiest +way, the songstress said:</p> + +<p>"My visit seems to be unwelcome to the gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>"Unwelcome?" repeated Salvani. "Signora, what are you thinking of? On +the contrary, we were just speaking about you and wishing you were +here."</p> + +<p>"Flatterer," said La Luciola, laughing, and pointing her finger +warningly at him.</p> + +<p>"No, signora, Salvani says the truth," Ticellini said, earnestly. "We +wish to ask a great favor of you."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, signora," said Ticellini, crossing his hands and falling on one +knee, "my fate lies in your hands."</p> + +<p>"That sounds quite tragical! One would imagine I was Marshal Radetzky. +But are you ever going to tell me what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"We—I—" began Salvani, stammering.</p> + +<p>"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, <i>toujours perdrix</i>."</p> + +<p>"Well—and—" asked Salvani, breathlessly, as the diva paused.</p> + +<p>"Well, I must have a new <i>rôle</i> in a new opera or I shall run away," +said La Luciola, firmly.</p> + +<p>Both men uttered a cry of joy. Luciola looked from one to the other and +finally said:</p> + +<p>"Does my demand embarrass you?"</p> + +<p>"No, luck alone makes us dumb. We intended, signora, to ask you to-day +to take a part in a new opera."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, tragic opera has long since gone out of fashion."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, signora!" exclaimed Ticellini, joyfully, "I have got what you +want. The new opera is called the 'Queen of Flowers.'"</p> + +<p>"What a pretty title!"</p> + +<p>"Your part will be that of the daisy."</p> + +<p>"Beautiful, beautiful!"</p> + +<p>"Permit me to play you the first cavatina."</p> + +<p>Ticellini hurried to the piano and began to play.</p> + +<p>Luciola listened attentively and nodded satisfaction as Ticellini sung +the verses.</p> + +<p>"That will do," she said. "Get everything ready for the rehearsals; I +shall sing the part."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>GREEN, WHITE AND RED</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Ah—your master desires a box?" asked Salvani, who did not disdain on +special days to take charge of the box-office.</p> + +<p>The negro laughed, so that the impresario could wonder at his white +teeth, and shook his head, pointing once more at the tickets.</p> + +<p>"You want two boxes, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>Again the negro shook his head.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p><p>"Three boxes?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"My God, are you dumb?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to buy the whole package?" asked Salvani, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," nodded the negro.</p> + +<p>The impresario looked doubtingly at him, and said:</p> + +<p>"But that is eleven boxes on the first tier, each of which costs fifty +lire—"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Again the Nubian nodded. Salvani began to reckon, and excitedly +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"But that is impossible. Are you aware that this is a matter of 2,848 +lire?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I do not understand," stammered Salvani. "You want to go on the stage?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then follow me."</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> expressively toward the parterre and the parquet, +that the impresario at once knew what he wanted.</p> + +<p>"You want to buy the rest of the seats unsold?" he hastily asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"The places cost originally five, four and three lire."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, I would be a fool if I did not take a hand in."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Ticellini, would you be able to raise 6,000 lire to annihilate Gioberto +and Palmerelli?"</p> + +<p>The composer was silent. This kind of logic convinced him.</p> + +<p>When the eventful evening came, the Scala looked magnificent.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p class="center"><i>"Chi per la patria muore</i><br /> +<i>Vessuto ha assai!"</i><br /><br /> +(He who has died for his country has lived long enough.)</p> + +<p>The parquet and balcony were filled with students, and only one +proscenium box was still empty.</p> + +<p>A murmur ran through the theatre; the door of the proscenium box was +opened and three persons entered it.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> threw threatening glances at the color +constellation, and the confidant of Radetzky immediately sent for +Salvani.</p> + +<p>The impresario appeared, excited and trembling. Suppose the adjutant +should forbid the performance?</p> + +<p>"What does this mean?" the officer angrily exclaimed. "Have you noticed +the three colors?"</p> + +<p>"Your Excellency, I—"</p> + +<p>"Well, are you going to answer me?"</p> + +<p>"Will your excellency condescend to take a look over the house—"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Wait, <i>canaille</i>, I will not be deceived."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Well, maestro," said the diva, laughing, "do I please you, and do you +think the opera will be a success?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, signora, I have never doubted it, since you consented to take the +part of Marguerite."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p><p>A dark form came from the rear of the dressing-room, and the Marquis +Aslitta went toward Ticellini.</p> + +<p>"Let me congratulate you, maestro," he cordially said, offering +Ticellini his hand.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Giorgio," whispered Luciola, giving the marquis her hand, "the eventful +hour has arrived."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Luciola threw herself into the outstretched arms of Aslitta.</p> + +<p>"You love me, Giorgio?"</p> + +<p>"Dearly; you are my goddess, my all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Giorgio; nothing shall be too difficult for me to do for you. But +go now, the time has come."</p> + +<p>"And you have forgotten nothing, and will observe the sign?"</p> + +<p>"Be easy, I will think of everything."</p> + +<p>"Then farewell; have courage."</p> + +<p>"And hope," added Luciola, kissing Aslitta.</p> + +<p>At this moment a heavy hand was laid upon Aslitta's shoulder, and a +clear voice said:</p> + +<p>"Marquis, you should have closed the door."</p> + +<p>Aslitta turned hurriedly about. A man stood in front of him, whose +appearance was very repulsive.</p> + +<p>Count San Pietro had short, red-brown hair, and one of his eyes was +always closed; a deep blue scar, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>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.</p> + +<p>La Luciola, measuring the count with a stern look, said:</p> + +<p>"Count, by what right have you come here?"</p> + +<p>A malicious smile was the answer, and then San Pietro audaciously said:</p> + +<p>"Who will prevent me from coming in?"</p> + +<p>"I!" exclaimed Luciola, passionately. "Depart at once."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you are defending the marquis."</p> + +<p>Aslitta was moved to become angry, but he restrained himself, and +laughingly said:</p> + +<p>"Why should not others have the right to admire La Luciola?"</p> + +<p>The diva trembled, but a look from Aslitta gave her courage, and, trying +to appear cool, she said:</p> + +<p>"Really, count, you frightened me; I hardly recognized you."</p> + +<p>"And the marquis has no need to hide; he can leave that to the +conspirators," remarked the count, with a piercing look.</p> + +<p>Aslitta met the gaze fearlessly, and indifferently answered, evading the +question:</p> + +<p>"Count, have you a box for to-night's performance?"</p> + +<p>"No, every place was taken when my servant went to the box-office."</p> + +<p>"Then do me the honor to take a seat in my box."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p><p>"Ah, you were more fortunate than I."</p> + +<p>The manager opened the door leading to the stage-row, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Signora, your scene begins."</p> + +<p>"I am coming," said Luciola, and, passing by the gentlemen, she +laughingly said:</p> + +<p>"Good-by, and do not forget to applaud."</p> + +<p>As soon as she had gone, the gentlemen went toward the auditorium, and +on the stairs leading to the boxes Pietro paused and hissed:</p> + +<p>"Marquis, you know I shall kill you the first chance I have."</p> + +<p>"Really?" asked Aslitta; "have you become so bloodthirsty all of a +sudden?"</p> + +<p>"No evasions," replied the count. "You love Luciola?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"And Luciola loves you?"</p> + +<p>"I am not vain enough to imagine your statement to be true."</p> + +<p>"Beware, marquis," said the count; "I have eyes."</p> + +<p>"So much the better for you."</p> + +<p>"And in the dungeons of Milan there are cells, in which patriots are +broken on the wheel and forced to name their accomplices—"</p> + +<p>"Count," interrupted Aslitta, "there are also dark places in Milan, +where Italians who betray their country to the oppressor are shot."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As San Pietro took his place, La Luciola just <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>appeared on the scene; +deafening applause greeted her, and she gratefully bowed.</p> + +<p>"Colonel," said San Pietro, turning to the adjutant, "I have to give you +the name of a traitor."</p> + +<p>"But not now," said the colonel, impatiently; "just listen to that +beautiful duet."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Colonel," repeated the count again, "Aslitta conspires with the +patriots, and—"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow—to-morrow, count."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow would be too late."</p> + +<p>"Then, in the devil's name, speak now and be done with it. What do you +wish?"</p> + +<p>"That Aslitta be arrested this evening."</p> + +<p>"Ah, La Luciola is divine; we must secure her for Vienna!" exclaimed the +colonel, enthusiastically. "Will you arrange it?"</p> + +<p>"What, your excellency?"</p> + +<p>"Are you deaf? We must secure Luciola for Vienna."</p> + +<p>"Have Aslitta arrested, and La Luciola will be a member of the Vienna +Opera."</p> + +<p>"Stupid, what interest has La Luciola in Aslitta?"</p> + +<p>"She loves him," hissed the count.</p> + +<p>"What! La Luciola disdains our advances, and falls in love with this +Neapolitan! That is treason."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p><p>"Then your excellency—"</p> + +<p>"I give you <i>carte blanche</i>; bring Aslitta to the citadel, but not +before the close of the performance; I wish to hear the opera to the +end."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"No, no," he muttered, anxiously. "No one knows my former name; I would +be a fool to get frightened."</p> + +<p>As soon as the first act was over, San Pietro turned to an officer and +said:</p> + +<p>"Do you know the gentleman sitting in the opposite box?"</p> + +<p>"Not personally, but from reputation. He is said to be enormously rich."</p> + +<p>"What is his name?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said San Pietro; and then he muttered to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> himself: "'Tis he; +he has a son! This time he will not escape me."</p> + +<p>"Do you know the count's political opinions?" said San Pietro, after a +pause.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"That is decisive."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Red, white and green! The national colors!</p> + +<p>At this moment Monte-Cristo arose and gave the signal. Immediately every +one rose and clapped their hands, and he joyously exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Long live Italy! Long live the national flag!"</p> + +<p>And then a loud voice thundered above the tumult:</p> + +<p>"<i>Fuori i barbari!</i> Away with the foreigners!"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p class="center"><i>"Chi per la patria muore</i><br /> +<i>Vessuto ha assai!"</i></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p><p>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:</p> + +<p>"Long live La Luciola! Long live Italy!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>A FIGHT IN THE STREETS</h3> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Milla, Milla, this is great and sublime!"</p> + +<p>"Comrades!" shouted the major in a rage, "follow me. We will capture La +Luciola, and bring her to the citadel!"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"If you touch a hair of La Luciola's head, you are a dead man."</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"We have got you."</p> + +<p>A gag was inserted between Aslitta's lips, his arms and limbs were +bound, and two pandours dragged him away, while the count said:</p> + +<p>"You know the order; take good care of him! You must answer for the +prisoner with your life."</p> + +<p>One of the pandours pressed the muzzle of his gun against Aslitta's +forehead and threateningly said:</p> + +<p>"Do not stir or I will blow your brains out."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>THE MASKS FALL</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was a foolish beginning, for they had no weapons—they only possessed +burning patriotism, and their hatred of the foreign oppressor.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Suddenly San Pietro's repulsive features appeared at the carriage +window, and Luciola's heart ceased beating.</p> + +<p>Had he betrayed Aslitta?</p> + +<p>The count had arranged things well. Narrower and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> narrower grew the +circle about the patriots, and the students tried in vain to draw the +carriage away from the soldiers.</p> + +<p>"Luciola," said the count, maliciously, "do you still think you can +escape me?"</p> + +<p>Luciola drew herself up, and casting a look of contempt at the count, +she cried, in loud, clear tones:</p> + +<p>"Miserable coward!"</p> + +<p>San Pietro uttered a cry of rage, and lifted his sword aloof.</p> + +<p>Luciola looked coolly at him; not a muscle of her fine face quivered, +but her hand grasped the jewelled hilt of a dagger.</p> + +<p>She did not intend to fall into the villain's hands alive.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, above the roar of the multitude, a voice thundered:</p> + +<p>"Benedetto! Murderer! Escaped galley slave—beware! God cannot be mocked +at! Shame over you!"</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> on the box whipped up the horses, and in a +second the carriage rolled away.</p> + +<p>The shots fired after them did not reach them, and in a few minutes they +had disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Death and thunder," hissed Benedetto, "this one at least shall not +escape me"; and foaming with rage, he threw himself upon the count.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>A cry of horror came from the lips of the crowd, and the Croatians, +whose roughness was proverbial, turned with horror from the scoundrel.</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo threw the pistol on the ground, and, getting down from the +pedestal, he walked slowly through the lines of the retreating soldiers.</p> + +<p>As soon as Benedetto felt himself free he sprang up, and, turning to the +crowd, he hissed:</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>The name of Radetzky acted like magic upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> soldiers. They turned +pale and rushed in pursuit of Monte-Cristo.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Follow me," said Benedetto, angrily, entering the Casino.</p> + +<p>On the threshold Major Bartolomeo met him. Benedetto grasped the old +veteran by the throat, and shaking him like a leaf, he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Wretch, you have betrayed us; but you shall pay for it!"</p> + +<p>"I," stammered the major, "I—am—innocent."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3>LOVE OF COUNTRY</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But, Eugenie," consoled Milla, "why fear the worst always? I—"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Come, Milla," said La Luciola, "wherever we are, we are under the +protection of a powerful friend."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Signora," he said, turning to Luciola, "have no fear; you are in the +house of a friend. Follow me."</p> + +<p>La Luciola and Milla accepted the invitation and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, sisters," said Haydee in a gentle voice as she came toward +them, "I was expecting you."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>La Luciola understood whom she meant by this "he," and she timidly +replied:</p> + +<p>"Madame, you seem to know all about the terrible affair. Would you +permit me a question?"</p> + +<p>"Gladly. Ask without fear; I will answer you."</p> + +<p>La Luciola hesitated a moment and then firmly said:</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"You are speaking of the Marquis Aslitta," said Haydee, gently.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Speak freely, sister," whispered the handsome Greek, "perhaps I can +help you."</p> + +<p>"I am a Frenchwoman by birth," said the diva,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> 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:</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Poor sister," murmured Haydee, "how you must have suffered."</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> 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:</p> + +<p class="center"><i>"Chi per la patria muore</i><br /> +<i>Vessuto ha assai!"</i></p> + +<p>"Ah, the battle hymn of the Italians," interrupted Haydee, her eyes +glistening.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>SHADOWS OF THE PAST</h3> + +<p>Hardly had Luciola uttered the last words, than a deep voice said:</p> + +<p>"Eugenie Danglars, I thank you in the name of humanity! The past is +forgiven!"</p> + +<p>The diva turned affrightedly around. The Count of Monte-Cristo stood +before her, leading his son by the hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how grateful I am to you," said Luciola, sobbing. "You recognized +me?"</p> + +<p>"I have never lost sight of you," replied Monte-Cristo, earnestly; "and +the name you bear makes me a debtor to you."</p> + +<p>"You shame me, count—you my debtor?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You know something about my parents. I beseech you, do not hide +anything from me," implored Luciola. "I know that my father lives, +and—"</p> + +<p>"One moment," interrupted Monte-Cristo, giving Haydee a wink.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p><p>Immediately the young woman put her hand upon the boy's shoulder and +led him out.</p> + +<p>"I know that my father is doing Stock Exchange business in Germany," +continued Luciola, "but my poor mother—"</p> + +<p>"Your mother lives too," interrupted the count, sorrowfully, "though I +do not know whether you will ever see her again."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand," stammered La Luciola.</p> + +<p>"Listen, my child, and be strong. Have you recognized the wretch who +calls himself Count San Pietro?"</p> + +<p>"Recognized? No; he is a wretch who merits the contempt of every one."</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Prince Cavalcanti!" exclaimed La Luciola, horror-stricken.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you wish to call him thus; in reality, though, he is the +escaped galley slave and murderer, Benedetto."</p> + +<p>"But what has the wretch to do with my mother?"</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately, more than you think; to rob your mother of her treasure, +a full million, the monster plunged a dagger in her breast—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the miserable coward! But you told me my mother lived—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she lives! The murderer did not strike the heart as he had +intended, and, after months of agony, the poor woman recovered."</p> + +<p>"Thank God! But where is she? I want to go to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> her and throw myself at +her feet. My love will make her forget her grief," exclaimed Luciola, +passionately.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly; Valentine, the only one whom I love to remember among +all my past acquaintances."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Poor mother," muttered Luciola, sorrowfully. "How hard it must have +been for her to take a dependent position."</p> + +<p>"Madame Danglars," said the count, "accepted the offer with thanks, and +she tenderly loves Valentine and her daughters."</p> + +<p>"How long has my mother been in India?"</p> + +<p>"About three years."</p> + +<p>"And do you know where she is?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know Morrel's present address, but expect a letter from him +soon."</p> + +<p>Just then the deep tones of a bell were heard, and Monte-Cristo arose.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you recall Aslitta to me—where is he?"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo sorrowfully shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Eugenie, the Marquis d'Aslitta was arrested two hours ago."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p><p>"Arrested. Oh, my God! That is worse than death."</p> + +<p>"All is not lost yet."</p> + +<p>"Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"In the citadel."</p> + +<p>"Count, rescue him. You are superhuman. But tell me who betrayed him?"</p> + +<p>"Benedetto."</p> + +<p>Luciola uttered a cry of horror.</p> + +<p>"I will do what I can," continued the count, "to rescue him."</p> + +<p>"A thousand thanks; I believe you."</p> + +<p>The count went to the door and called:</p> + +<p>"Spero."</p> + +<p>The handsome boy immediately appeared, and looked inquiringly at his +father.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>A pressure of a silver bell brought Ali to the count.</p> + +<p>"Are all here?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The Nubian nodded.</p> + +<p>"Ali, you know what you have to do. As soon as the slightest traitorous +voice is heard, you give the signal."</p> + +<p>Ali again nodded; the count shoved the curtain aside and disclosed a +secret staircase.</p> + +<p>"Spero, conduct La Luciola," he ordered, as he descended the stairs, +followed by Spero and the diva.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE CONSPIRATORS</h3> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Long live Italy!"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Friends and patriots," he said, "the long-wished-for day has come. Are +you ready to defend the flag?"</p> + +<p>"So help us God! Out with the foreigners!" was shouted from all sides.</p> + +<p>"Good! Now listen to what our noble friend, the Count of Monte-Cristo, +has to tell us!"</p> + +<p>The marquis took his seat, and the count, unrolling a paper, said in an +earnest voice:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p><p>A murmur of astonishment ran through the assembly.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"No concessions!" said a voice; "we want freedom!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The astonishment was now general. Loud cries of "Impossible! +impossible!" were heard.</p> + +<p>"And when will the convocation take place?" asked Sante-Croce.</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately not so soon—on the 3d of July," said the count, +sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>Angry murmurs arose.</p> + +<p>"They wish to mock us," said a young man. "Radetzky's minions have +murdered my brother; I demand revenge!"</p> + +<p>"My mother was wounded at Corsa," said a second. "No compromises: war!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, war to the knife!" shouted the whole assembly.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> 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?"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo's words sounded prophetic. The patriots could not +dissimulate the impression they made. But their opinions did not change.</p> + +<p>"And if the worst should come!" said one, courageously, "I would rather +die than hesitate any longer. To arms!"</p> + +<p>"To arms, then!" repeated the Marquis of Sante-Croce, solemnly, "and may +God be with us!"</p> + +<p>"But where is Aslitta? He must lead us," some cried.</p> + +<p>La Luciola advanced.</p> + +<p>"The patriot Aslitta has been imprisoned," she sorrowfully said; "he is +lying in the citadel."</p> + +<p>A cry of rage arose.</p> + +<p>"Let us rescue him," came from all sides. "Let us storm the citadel +before they murder him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, let us rescue him," said Monte-Cristo. "Let the fight begin +to-morrow! To arms in the name of humanity and freedom!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly a man arose from the crowd, who had heretofore remained silent, +and casting a look at the count, he slowly said:</p> + +<p>"We hardly know you. What guarantee will you give us that you won't +betray us?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p><p>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:</p> + +<p>"I shall accompany you. My father has taught me to do my duty."</p> + +<p>With enthusiastic cries the patriots crowded about the handsome lad, and +Monte-Cristo felt his heart throb with joy as he looked at Spero.</p> + +<p>"And I, too, will accompany you!" exclaimed La Luciola. "Italy must be +freed, and Aslitta rescued."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>FATHER AND SON</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Good-evening, father."</p> + +<p>The major trembled, and, looking with affright at the stranger, +stammered:</p> + +<p>"I do not know you, sir—it would be a great honor to me—but—"</p> + +<p>The stranger laughed loudly, and, conducting the major to a neighboring +room, impressively said:</p> + +<p>"My dear sir, let us be candid—do you remember<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> the name of Cavalcanti +which you once wrongfully bore?"</p> + +<p>The major grew pale, and the stranger continued unmercifully:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The major looked about him in astonishment—who was the man who knew the +secrets of his past life?</p> + +<p>"Well, father?" mockingly said Benedetto.</p> + +<p>"Father, father," repeated the major, dazed. "You are not—"</p> + +<p>He mechanically opened his arms to press Benedetto to his heart.</p> + +<p>"Not necessary," said the latter, laughing. "We are not in the Count of +Monte-Cristo's house, and can dispense with tenderness."</p> + +<p>The major sighed—for a further sum of fifty thousand francs he would +have embraced ten Andreas.</p> + +<p>"But who are you, anyhow?" he finally asked. "I thought I had heard that +you—"</p> + +<p>"Beware!" exclaimed Benedetto. "Do not refer to the past; here I am the +Count of San Pietro!"</p> + +<p>"The confidant—" stammered the major.</p> + +<p>"Of Radetzky," added Benedetto.</p> + +<p>"But as an Italian—"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>"Get up, you old fool," cried the one who carried the cane, addressing +the prisoner, "follow us!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p><p>"Poor prospects for me."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"You know," he began, without wasting any words, "that you need expect +no mercy from me."</p> + +<p>The major remained silent, his speech failed him through the brusque +manner in which he was addressed. Taking advantage of the situation, +Benedetto continued:</p> + +<p>"You have betrayed me. Don't deny it—I know all."</p> + +<p>"I!" stammered the major, confused.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you!—the virago has exposed you."</p> + +<p>This remark roused the nobler qualities of Bartolomeo. He was astounded +at the impudence of the knave who dared to call Aurora a virago.</p> + +<p>"Be silent!" he cried, angrily; "and do not malign the character of a +pure woman—you red-headed scoundrel!"</p> + +<p>Benedetto moved as if to rise, but on second thoughts he remained +seated, and burst into a hearty laugh.</p> + +<p>"Your immutable confidence in your wife is to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>The major grew pale, and beneath his clinched lips a terrible feeling +raged.</p> + +<p>"Base coward! to wring a confession from a woman in such a way."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I do not know," replied the major, with a sinister smile.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"So you will not speak!"</p> + +<p>Bartolomeo cast a look of contempt toward him, and exclaimed: "Go to the +devil!"</p> + +<p>Benedetto clinched his fist and held it in the face of the major.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Tell me, what did you want," demanded the major, with a shrug of his +shoulders, "at the time when you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> introduced me into the salon of the +Count of Monte-Cristo?"</p> + +<p>A cry of rage, uttered by Benedetto, interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>And he stopped short, his voice half choked with rage. Bartolomeo +trembled visibly; and to humble him the more, Benedetto spat in his +face.</p> + +<p>The major scarcely regarded this last insult. He was busied with many +reflections. How would it be if he tried to overpower Benedetto?</p> + +<p>"Well, I am waiting," said San Pietro, after a pause; "will you speak?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You know that Aslitta is in my power, and you will die like him if you +remain headstrong."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that apparatus?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And do you know its purpose?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p><p>"No."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Well," replied Bartolomeo, in suspense.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>IN THE WELL</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>He paced the floor deeply absorbed in thought, when suddenly he stumbled +and fell, as it appeared, into a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> vast empty space. Instinctively +extending his arms, he caught hold of one of the projecting ledges, and +so hung suspended in mid-air.</p> + +<p>What was to be done? Aslitta strove to secure a foothold, but the +relation of his accident to his imprisonment soon dawned upon him.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Placing his hands about his mouth he cried out:</p> + +<p>"Is anybody here?"</p> + +<p>No answer came. The prisoner waited and then called out once more.</p> + +<p>Again no answer came.</p> + +<p>Presently he heard a voice cry out, "You are a prisoner; are you not?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, I am. Whoever you may be, have no fear; I am not your enemy," +returned the voice of Aslitta.</p> + +<p>"I am down in the water half drowned."</p> + +<p>"Peculiar," thought Aslitta; "I ought to know that voice, it sounds so +familiar;" and in a loud tone he asked, "Who are you?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Before he could recover his surprise, he heard words in pure Italian +proceeding from the well.</p> + +<p>"Keep me up! I am sinking deeper and deeper."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Catch hold of the scarf," he called down, "the stuff is firm and will +bear you."</p> + +<p>Immediately thereafter he felt that his order had been obeyed—the heavy +silk became taut.</p> + +<p>"Pull up," a voice now cried from below, "I will hold tight."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven," the words reached his ear, "for the present we are +saved. Ah, what would my poor Aurora say if she knew this?"</p> + +<p>Aurora! This name seemed like a revelation to Aslitta, and, in glad +surprise, he exclaimed:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p><p>"Bartolomeo—is it you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course; but with whom have I the honor—It is as dark here as +in a sack."</p> + +<p>"I am Giorgio Aslitta."</p> + +<p>"Heaven be praised that I have found you. I was looking for you."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? Where, in truth, do you come from?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Is he dead?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No, Bartolomeo, I know you as a good patriot."</p> + +<p>"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,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>"But why were you arrested?"</p> + +<p>"Later on you shall hear all."</p> + +<p>"Can you not at least tell me whether Luciola has been saved?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is in safety in the Count of Monte-Cristo's house."</p> + +<p>"Heaven be praised! Now I can die calmly," whispered Aslitta.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, if I knew that! I have no matches, and, therefore, could not very +well fix where I was."</p> + +<p>"Good; we will find out."</p> + +<p>Bartolomeo drew a match from his pocket, and soon a bright light +illuminated the cell, without, however, revealing a consoling prospect.</p> + +<p>"Humph!" growled the major, "it was, after all, better down there."</p> + +<p>"But there, also, you did not find an exit."</p> + +<p>"True; but I was, perhaps, awkward. You may do better. Let us descend."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Well, one's enough," thought the major, after a few moments' +deliberation.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p><p>"How so?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Aslitta, with emotion. "I would be a scoundrel to save +myself at your expense."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The young man embraced the major.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>Bartolomeo held the other end of the scarf with all his might. Aslitta +must now have reached the bottom.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>"Get up, vagabond," roughly exclaimed Benedetto.</p> + +<p>He had looked up Aslitta to avenge Bartolomeo's escape on him, and he +was in a very bad humor.</p> + +<p>As the major did not stir, Benedetto uttered an oath and cried:</p> + +<p>"Are you deaf, Aslitta?"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Good-day, Andrea Cavalcanti."</p> + +<p>"You and always you!" cried the bandit furiously. "Where is the other +one?"</p> + +<p>The major shrugged his shoulders, while the soldiers looked in every +corner and Benedetto angrily gnawed his under lip.</p> + +<p>"He has probably escaped through the well," said one of the soldiers at +last.</p> + +<p>"Oh, then we have him sure," laughed another.</p> + +<p>"Light here," ordered Benedetto, bending over the opening. The soldier +obeyed as directed and Bartolomeo felt his heart cease beating.</p> + +<p>"We have him sure," one of the soldiers had said. Was the well a trap? A +strange sound was now heard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"Where does the water come from?" asked Benedetto, stepping back.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Speak, wretch!" said San Pietro, turning to the major. "Did Aslitta +escape through the well?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>He walked toward the door. Bartolomeo slowly rose to his feet and +muttered only a single word:</p> + +<p>"Villain!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<h3>SPERO</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo stood at one of the lofty arched windows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"My child," sadly replied Monte-Cristo, "man's worst enemy is man!"</p> + +<p>"Papa!" suddenly exclaimed Spero, "see, there, the flag!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At this moment Bertuccio entered the hall.</p> + +<p>"Well?" asked the count.</p> + +<p>"Count, one of our emissaries has penetrated to the citadel. The Marquis +Aslitta is no longer there!"</p> + +<p>"What can that mean? Had he escaped he would have looked for us here," +exclaimed the count uneasily.</p> + +<p>"The man could learn nothing further," said Bertuccio, sadly; "but he +was informed that some one else was found in the marquis's cell."</p> + +<p>"Some one else? Who?"</p> + +<p>"You know him. In Paris he called himself Major Cavalcanti, and here—"</p> + +<p>"What about this substitute?" eagerly interrupted the count.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p><p>"He was sentenced to death; whether the sentence had been already +executed our emissary could not ascertain."</p> + +<p>"Bertuccio," said the count anxiously, "if Aslitta—"</p> + +<p>"Aslitta is dead!" cried Luciola, who had entered unperceived and sank +to her knees sobbing.</p> + +<p>"Who dares to allege that?" exclaimed the count, turning pale.</p> + +<p>"Step to the window," stammered Luciola.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"How could this calamity have happened?" whispered Spero, clinging +anxiously to Luciola.</p> + +<p>Bertuccio, in the meantime, had run down into the street to direct the +carriers. He now returned and tremblingly said:</p> + +<p>"A quarter of an hour ago our men found the body in the moat of the +fortifications; how Aslitta got there is a riddle."</p> + +<p>Loud cries were heard from the street.</p> + +<p>"Revenge on the murderers! Death to the miserable cowards."</p> + +<p>A crowd numbered by hundreds gathered around the bier, and the carriers +had trouble to reach the palace gate.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p><p>"Papa, you have already aided so many people, aid her too!"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo started. He had promised Luciola to save Aslitta, and now—</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At this instant the beating of drums was heard and a Croatian battalion +turned the corner of the street.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>Luciola had heard the prophetic words; she rose up, and, approaching the +bier, exclaimed enthusiastically:</p> + +<p>"You hear his words; he always keeps what he promises. To arms, friends! +Long live Italy and Liberty."</p> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The spark had dropped into the powder barrel; from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> all sides the +patriots rallied around the national standard, and, amid the ringing of +the alarm bells, the insurrection kept growing in dimensions.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Count, I have kept my word—the tricolor waves in freedom in Milan; +restore Giorgio to me."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>At this instant Sante-Croce rushed into the apartment and excitedly +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo's flashing eyes fixed themselves on the old patriot, and +with ringing tones he retorted:</p> + +<p>"Marquis, I have as yet always kept my word."</p> + +<p>"But when? It may soon be too late. We are <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>lacking in arms and +ammunition, and the superiority of numbers will crush us if we are +defenceless."</p> + +<p>"Ali," ordered the count.</p> + +<p>The Nubian appeared and glanced inquiringly at his master.</p> + +<p>"You have the key of the vault which contains the arms and ammunition?"</p> + +<p>Ali nodded.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The dark eyelids really opened, and with a dreamy look Aslitta surveyed +the people who surrounded him.</p> + +<p>"Thanks be to God, he lives!" exclaimed Luciola, gleefully.</p> + +<p>"Calm yourself, Eugenie," said the Count. "Aslitta must be spared for +the present any excitement! Leave him to me, he will soon recover."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have performed a miracle," said Luciola, enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo bowed his head and a tear glistened in his eye.</p> + +<p>It was in memory of his friend and teacher, the Abbe Faria.</p> + +<p>Sante-Croce looked wonderingly at the count.</p> + +<p>"You are a god!" he exclaimed; "forgive the words I spoke before."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p><p>"I have nothing to forgive," replied the count, gently; "I have only to +keep what I have promised. Spero, come here."</p> + +<p>"Here I am, papa," called the boy.</p> + +<p>"Good, my son. You know your duty. Accompany the patriots; take my place +until Aslitta's condition permits me to relieve you."</p> + +<p>A cannon-shot caused the house to shake to its foundations, and Haydee, +pale and trembling, entered.</p> + +<p>"The bombardment begins," she whispered to her husband. "Oh, the +cruelty!"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo threw his arm about his handsome wife, and giving the boy a +wink, he consolingly said:</p> + +<p>"Spero will be worthy of you and me. Come, Spero, say good-by and go."</p> + +<p>Spero pressed a kiss on Haydee's lips, threw his arms about his father's +neck and whispered in his ear:</p> + +<p>"I will do my duty."</p> + +<p>Turning to the marquis he put his hand in that of the old man and said:</p> + +<p>"Let us go!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"A courier who has come from France has just brought it," said the +servant, in answer to a question of the count's.</p> + +<p>"Did he give his name?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he said his name was Penelon, and that he came from Marseilles."</p> + +<p>"From Marseilles!" exclaimed Haydee, anxiously; "oh, quick! see what the +letter says."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p><p>Monte-Cristo broke the seal. The letter only contained a few words:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"I am dying from grief. Come at once!</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Mercedes.</span>"</p></blockquote> + +<p>The count handed the letter to Haydee. The latter read it and then said:</p> + +<p>"When do we go?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<h3>ECARTE</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As he was sitting meditatively in his cell, the door opened and a +corporal entered.</p> + +<p>"What do you wish?" asked the major politely. "What time is it?"</p> + +<p>"Three o'clock in the morning," replied the corporal, a handsome young +fellow with blue eyes and blond hair.</p> + +<p>"Only three o'clock. Then I have three long hours still to live. Can't I +be shot at once?"</p> + +<p>"No, no chance whatever."</p> + +<p>"How awkward. What shall I do with myself? It's so monotonous here!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can remedy that," said the corporal, laughing.</p> + +<p>"How so? What do you mean?" asked Bartolomeo.</p> + +<p>"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 <i>ecarte</i>?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p><p>"With pleasure," replied the major.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>The major seated himself on a chair, the corporal on the bed, and the +drum served as a table.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When the clock struck four, the young man had won twice, and he proudly +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"If my luck continues, I will be ahead of you soon. Couldn't we play for +money?"</p> + +<p>"No, that would be unfair," replied the major, "I am so superior to +you."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, I will take some too," replied Bartolomeo.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that tastes good," he said, after he had taken a deep draught.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Bah—let us play anyhow!" exclaimed the corporal, exhilarated by the +money he had won and the liquor he had swallowed.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Confound it!" exclaimed the corporal, "who is disturbing us now?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"It is all right; I shall be there directly," answered the corporal.</p> + +<p>The soldier departed, and the corporal now turned to Bartolomeo, who had +arisen from his chair.</p> + +<p>"One more game," begged the Austrian.</p> + +<p>"Not for the world. I must collect my thoughts now, and close my account +with God," replied the major.</p> + +<p>"But you won my money and ought to give me a revenge."</p> + +<p>"Gladly, if I only had time to do so."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p><p>The corporal, who was very tight, swore roundly.</p> + +<p>The major gazed at him for a moment, and then in a hesitating way said:</p> + +<p>"I know a way out of the difficulty."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked the corporal, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," cried the corporal, gleefully.</p> + +<p>He strode in advance of Bartolomeo, and ordered his men to take the +major along to the barracks.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Time won—everything won," muttered the major. "I have not played cards +a lifetime for nothing."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + +<h3>FORWARD!</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>One barrack after the other was captured, and then the great mass of the +patriots turned toward the Casa Santa Margarita, where the <i>elite</i> 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:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p><p>"Long live Italy!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>ecarte</i>.</p> + +<p>From time to time a soldier put his head in the room to ask when the +execution was going to take place.</p> + +<p>Every time he did so he was told to be off.</p> + +<p>The corporal had just finished dealing the cards, when the soldier again +appeared.</p> + +<p>"Corporal," he said, breathlessly, "the Poliziotti are giving way, the +Croatians are decimated—shall we go to their rescue?"</p> + +<p>"Bah! we are only a handful," growled the corporal. "Let us await the +result."</p> + +<p>The door closed behind the soldier. Bartolomeo now sprang up, took the +sword and gun from the drunken corporal, and cried in his ear:</p> + +<p>"Obey my order, or you are a dead man!"</p> + +<p>"What—should—I—do?" stammered the corporal, partly sobered.</p> + +<p>"Hoist the white flag—quick!"</p> + +<p>"But I—have—no—authority—here!"</p> + +<p>"Who cares?" exclaimed Bartolomeo, "give the order<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>—the people will be +needlessly sacrificed—are you going now?"</p> + +<p>The corporal still hesitated, but just then a police sergeant ran in and +cried:</p> + +<p>"Corporal—let your men get shot—the scoundrels refuse to fight!"</p> + +<p>Bartolomeo had placed himself behind the corporal; the muzzle of the gun +lay against his knee, and this fact made the Austrian obedient.</p> + +<p>"My people are right," he said, gruffly; "I have given the order to +hoist the white flag."</p> + +<p>"The white flag? What for?"</p> + +<p>"Special order from the marshal," replied the corporal.</p> + +<p>"Which reached you?" asked the sergeant, distrustfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes; do not consider any longer!" thundered Bartolomeo, coming forward: +"I have brought the order myself."</p> + +<p>The sergeant saw the Austrian uniform; he disappeared hurriedly, and +Bartolomeo called after him:</p> + +<p>"God help you if the flag is not hoisted before two minutes have +passed."</p> + +<p>Suddenly the firing ceased, a loud noise was heard. The Italians saluted +the white flag—the signal of peace.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p><p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The confusion only lasted a moment.</p> + +<p>"Surround the rat-hole! Not a single one must escape—down with the +poliziotti!" exclaimed the Italians, wildly.</p> + +<p>In firm columns they advanced against the barracks, and then they +paused. Suppose treachery was in store for them?</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Proudly erect, the old man strode toward the door, and Spero walked +hurriedly behind him, and a fanatical, enthusiastic crowd followed.</p> + +<p>On the threshold stood an Austrian officer. He lifted his gun, and +triumphantly exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Ha, Monte-Cristo—to-day I shall strike you through the heart! Curses +on you and your race!"</p> + +<p>The gun directed against Spero's breast went off. When the smoke had +cleared away, the boy stood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>The Italians embraced each other. Their dream was realized. Milan was +free.</p> + +<p>"Papa," whispered Spero, "come with me. There is a man lying over there +who sacrificed himself for me."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo bent over the major, whose pale face lighted up joyfully +when he saw the count.</p> + +<p>"Let me see the wound," said Monte-Cristo. "Who knows but—"</p> + +<p>"Unnecessary," whispered Bartolomeo; "my adopted son +understands—how—to—aim!"</p> + +<p>"Ha! then it was Benedetto!" exclaimed the count.</p> + +<p>"His bullet was intended for me," said Spero. "He said he wished to +strike you through the heart."</p> + +<p>"The monster!" said Monte-Cristo, and turning to Bartolomeo, he added: +"and how shall I thank you?"</p> + +<p>"Ah!—that—does good," stammered Bartolomeo. "Count—care for—Aurora. +Ah!—I am dying. Your hand—farewell—child. Italy—is—free!"</p> + +<p>The major stretched himself out and his eyes became glassy.</p> + +<p>Spero sobbed bitterly, and the count whispered:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p><p>"May the earth be light to you. If you have sinned, your love for your +country has made atonement!"</p> + +<p>One hour later the count, Haydee and Spero bade adieu to Aslitta and +Luciola in the Café Vidiserti.</p> + +<p>"Farewell, marquis," said the count, throwing a knowing glance at +Aslitta, who held the diva in his arms.</p> + +<p>Aslitta nodded.</p> + +<p>"To-day Luciola will be my bride," he gently said.</p> + +<p>"Why do you wish to leave us?" exclaimed Luciola, sobbing.</p> + +<p>"Because others need me. Come, Haydee, Mercedes is waiting."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + +<h3>SERGEANT COUCOU</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The sergeant's cradle, in spite of his brown skin, had not stood in +Africa, but in the Faubourg Merceau in Paris.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>When the time for saying good-by came, the mother began to weep, but +Coucou consoled her.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"They will kill you," his comrades warned him.</p> + +<p>"Bah! a Parisian child does not fear the devil!" said Coucou, laughing.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p><p>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:</p> + +<p>"Good-day, my dear little woman."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + +<h3>MISS CLARY</h3> + +<p>Mercedes trembled and shrunk away, although the possessor of the small +white hand was a charming young girl.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Good-day, my darling—always joyful, always happy."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I am waiting," said Mercedes, sorrowfully, "for him, and he will surely +come if he lives."</p> + +<p>"And who is he?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Ungrateful woman," pouted the English girl, "as if I did not like to +come here. But if you are so solemn, why—"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, Clary, I am not solemn—I am melancholy, and at times desperate."</p> + +<p>"Desperate? How can you say such a thing?"</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Brave sergeant!" exclaimed Clary, and turning to Mercedes, she said:</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>This lasted for some time, and then Madame Caraman one day said quite +earnestly:</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> get accustomed to it; and after the lapse of a month we will see +what further to do."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The servants rushed in—the wounded were made prisoners, and Madame +Caraman had to thank Clary with tears in her eyes for her assistance.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Clary was, to all appearance, from this day continually becoming more +cheerful, and her strength increased<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"You must have some kind of occupation," she said; "you must give your +life some aim, some purpose."</p> + +<p>"But how? Nobody stands in need of me," sobbed Clary.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Alas," sobbed Clary; "if I could help them!"</p> + +<p>"And why should it be impossible?" said Madame Caraman, in an amiable +voice; "misery is easily found—one must only look for it."</p> + +<p>"Madame Caraman, I should like to call you Mamma Caraman; will you allow +me?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, dear child."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Mamma Caraman, I am getting tired of Nice."</p> + +<p>"I am also tired of it," nodded the companion.</p> + +<p>"How should you like to go to Marseilles?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, my dear child."</p> + +<p>"And, Mamma Caraman, I should like to do the journey on horseback," +added Clary, in a hesitating voice.</p> + +<p>"Still better, dear child—when we reach Marseilles you will be sound in +health."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>While Mercedes spoke to Clary the sergeant stood at the window, and he +called out suddenly:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"God be blessed," sobbed Mercedes, falling on her knees. "Ah, I was +aware that he would come!"</p> + +<p>"I shall go, dear mother," said Clary, rising, "but mind, if anything of +importance happens, I hope I shall also know of it?"</p> + +<p>"At once," nodded Mercedes, "Monsieur Coucou, pray accompany +Mademoiselle Clary, and return immediately in case you are wanted."</p> + +<p>The sergeant nodded and both went away.</p> + +<p>Soon after a carriage stopped before the door. A man got out and +hastened up the narrow staircase.</p> + +<p>"Mercedes," he called aloud, with faltering voice; it resounded upon +him—"Edmond, Edmond!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + +<h3>A MOTHER</h3> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Then speak, Mercedes—I hear," replied Monte-Cristo, simply.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Then Albert is dead?" said the count, sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo reflected a moment and then inquired: "Did it happen before +or after the submission of Abd-el-Kader?"</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> the Zouave sent to Marseilles to inform me of all, in a more +particular way."</p> + +<p>"And has this Zouave arrived?" inquired Monte-Cristo, animatedly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a few days since."</p> + +<p>"And what does he say?"</p> + +<p>"He maintains Albert is still alive."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"If you say so, I believe it," replied Mercedes sincerely.</p> + +<p>"May I also speak with the Zouave?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly—he is downstairs now."</p> + +<p>"Then let him come up; I should like to ask him a few questions."</p> + +<p>Mercedes called the sergeant; Monte-Cristo looked at her pitifully and +then whispered:</p> + +<p>"Mercedes—here this has reference to my life—you have known me from +childhood—have I ever broken my word?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no—only I am guilty of it!"</p> + +<p>"I did not wish to hear of that—you have my oath, and with the help of +God I shall keep the same!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + +<h3>THE RING</h3> + +<p>Cap in hand, the Zouave appeared, and, throwing an inquisitive glance at +the count, he said politely:</p> + +<p>"What is your pleasure, madame?"</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Well, I do love him," replied Coucou, enthusiastically. "I am ready to +be cut in pieces for him."</p> + +<p>"With that we need not make any haste," said Monte-Cristo, smiling. "You +believe then that Captain Joliette is still alive?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, colonel."</p> + +<p>"I am no colonel," said the count.</p> + +<p>"Then I must say general?"</p> + +<p>"That is unnecessary—I am in no way a soldier."</p> + +<p>"But that is hardly possible," cried Coucou, disappointed; "such a nice +brave gentleman, and not a soldier?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot help you; but now tell me plainly whether<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> you can render me +any assistance in finding the captain?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo smiled—the man suited him.</p> + +<p>"Sit down here next to me," he said, in a friendly manner, "and tell me +all you know."</p> + +<p>"To seat myself—no, that would be disrespectful; I shall remain +standing; and now question me."</p> + +<p>"Just as you like. Since when has the captain disappeared, and what do +you know concerning him?"</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Quite a compliment," smilingly said the count, bowing.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> called my +name—you must know he had always a little order for me to execute—"</p> + +<p>"I conclude therefrom, that you found an opportunity to render him a +service once," interrupted the count, in a friendly manner.</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"'Sergeant Coucou!'</p> + +<p>"'Here,' said I.</p> + +<p>"'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.'"</p> + +<p>"A ring?" said Monte-Cristo, wonderfully moved, while he cast a hasty +glance at Mercedes.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Pardon, Edmond," stammered the poor mother, with trembling voice, "I +gave Albert the ring as a talisman—it was to bring him back!"</p> + +<p>"I would not take the ring," continued Coucou. "I knew that nobody would +so easily kill the captain, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>"But the captain?" asked the count.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p><p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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 <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>Kabyles +are all desperate fellows, scoundrels of the worst description."</p> + +<p>"Did you communicate your opinion to the officer?" inquired the count.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What was the name of the marabout?"</p> + +<p>"If I recollect aright it was Elak Achel, or something like it."</p> + +<p>"Can you describe his appearance—had he bony cheeks, large, projecting +ears, and a long, pointed beard?"</p> + +<p>"Truly, I could almost believe the marshal must have seen the scamp," +said Coucou, quite astonished.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Sapristi, that was the name! And now as we know his name, we will soon +find him again," said Coucou, quite delighted.</p> + +<p>Mercedes rose, encouraged by fresh hopes, but Monte-Cristo put his hand +softly upon her arm and said:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Is that all you know?"—the count turned toward the Zouave.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p><p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" called out Mercedes, throwing a supplicating look at the +count.</p> + +<p>"Sergeant Coucou," said Monte-Cristo, with earnest mien, "a man should +never speak of impossibilities. I have often accomplished things which +others thought impossible."</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you, as our commander, would take the matter in hand, that +would be quite a different thing," thought the Zouave, confidently.</p> + +<p>"Well then, I shall do my best."</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!—is it not so, I'm allowed to call you commander?"</p> + +<p>"But I have already told you—"</p> + +<p>"Let me only say so, and if you wish to oblige me, call me simply +Coucou, and all will be well."</p> + +<p>"I shall consider the matter. Now go down and wait for me in the street, +I shall be there almost immediately."</p> + +<p>"At your service, commander," said the Zouave, putting his hand to his +cap, whereupon he left.</p> + +<p>"Well?" inquired Mercedes, when alone with the count.</p> + +<p>"Mercedes," said Monte-Cristo, with sincerity, "do not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> despair. All my +energy shall be devoted toward finding your son, and perhaps God will be +merciful."</p> + +<p>"I will believe it and not give way to despair."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>A knock interrupted the count—the door was quietly opened and a clear +voice inquired:</p> + +<p>"Are you alone, dear mother?"</p> + +<p>Receiving a wink from the count, Mercedes said:</p> + +<p>"Yes, Clary, you may enter."</p> + +<p>The young English lady skipped over the threshold, but she stood still +and blushed as soon as she saw the stranger.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The count bowed respectfully, whereupon he extended his hand to Mercedes +and went away.</p> + +<p>"Who is the gentleman?" asked Clary, as soon as the door closed behind +Monte-Cristo.</p> + +<p>"The Count of Monte-Cristo," said Mercedes.</p> + +<p>"Was he the person whom you expected?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> + +<h3>"SEARCH FOR THE WIFE!"</h3> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"How do you do, madame? Surely you are the companion of the beautiful +little one up-stairs?" and he pointed at the house.</p> + +<p>Madame Caraman nodded.</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"Dear me, the commander."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p><p>"So—now tell me all you know."</p> + +<p>"Immediately, commander, but allow me in the meantime to remark that I +never have ridden in such a splendid carriage."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Quite right, commander. Do you see, in some things the ladies are very +distrustful—"</p> + +<p>"The long preface makes me conclude that it is concerning a woman," +interrupted the count.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly a woman, she was but a child not more than fifteen years at +the utmost."</p> + +<p>"And this child was Captain Joliette's sweetheart?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, God forbid—no, that was not the case."</p> + +<p>"Well make it short and tell the story."</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +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:</p> + +<p>"Look after the little one, Coucou, don't mind me."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"'I hope she is not dead.'"</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p><p>"Who was the girl?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p><p>"What was the name of the girl?" he inquired afterward.</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"'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.'"</p> + +<p>"And what answer did Medje give to that?" inquired the count, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"What became of her afterward?"</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +captain laughed at her. She had no idea what discipline signified, and, +sobbing, she repeated constantly:</p> + +<p>"'Not go away, little papa—not going!'</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Then the child was a spy!" exclaimed the count, displeased. "She knew +about the expedition, and informed her people accordingly."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Why did she not give warning to the captain?"</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"What was the name of this Bedouin?" inquired Monte-Cristo, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Mohammed ben Abdallah."</p> + +<p>"He? Are you not mistaken?" the count inquired, rather excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I have heard the name often enough."</p> + +<p>"And you do not know who this man really was?"</p> + +<p>"No—probably also a marabout, a kind of juggler or sorcerer."</p> + +<p>"Did you acquaint your superiors of this sorcerer?" asked the count +after a while.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Coucou, rather hesitatingly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p><p>"Then I am surprised that you acquaint me of this," said Monte-Cristo, +while he threw a penetrating glance at the Zouave.</p> + +<p>Coucou was silent—he could not explain even to himself wherein lay the +great influence Monte-Cristo had over him.</p> + +<p>"You saw Medje constantly," the count took up the topic once more; "have +you never noticed anything striking about her?"</p> + +<p>Almost frightened, Coucou looked at the count.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo began to tremble.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Commander, if you take the matter in hand, then a miracle will happen," +said Coucou, confidently.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2> + +<h3>DEPEND ONLY ON YOURSELF</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Welcome in Marseilles, count," was the salute he received from the +Parisian. "I am glad to see you again."</p> + +<p>"I am also glad," returned the count, taking the proffered hand and +shaking it heartily. "Well, what news in the political world?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p><p>"Yes; but how do you come to know all this?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And his disappearance?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Do you, perhaps, know of what race the Bedouins were who attacked the +expedition?" inquired Monte-Cristo, considering.</p> + +<p>"If I am not mistaken, they were Yavaregs."</p> + +<p>"Tell me what you think of the capture of Abd-el-Kader. Are you now of +opinion that Algiers will be pacified?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p><p>"You joke—should I be such a good prophet? But what is the reason that +the ministry knows nothing of his existence?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You may be right. What is the name of the new Bedouin leader?"</p> + +<p>"Mohammed ben Abdallah."</p> + +<p>"This name is quite strange to me. Are you not, perhaps, mistaken?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Who is able to tell, Monsieur Beauchamp? But now I come to the chief +point of my visit. You have influence in Paris?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear count, had you only something to ask!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I have. I should like to obtain an indefinite furlough for the +Zouave Coucou."</p> + +<p>"That shall be granted to you, you may rest assured."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, more I do not want."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, and have almost forgotten it," said the count smiling, while he +tore a leaf from his pocketbook and quickly wrote a few words.</p> + +<p>"So," turning to Beauchamp, "permit me to hand you a small contribution +for the poor of Paris—"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Are you indeed so very rich?"</p> + +<p>"So rich that in this respect I envy those who have yet anything to wish +for."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I am of the same opinion. But now tell me how will you be able to +console Madame de Morcerf?"</p> + +<p>"First step here to the window, Monsieur Beauchamp; do you see the yacht +which has her steam up?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. What is the matter with that fine ship?"</p> + +<p>"It will depart for foreign parts to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"And what is her destination?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p><p>"Algiers."</p> + +<p>"Ah, now I understand—you are sending emissaries for the discovery of +poor Albert."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo smiled and then said:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Beauchamp, if you desired to accomplish a certain thing to +your satisfaction, how would you go to work?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that is very simple, because I should attend to it myself."</p> + +<p>"Then you will know whom I am sending to Algiers to find Captain +Joliette."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But the countess and her son?"</p> + +<p>A shadow fell across Monte-Cristo's face, but his voice sounded clear +and steady when he replied:</p> + +<p>"Visit me this evening, and you shall have my answer."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p><p>"With pleasure. Where do you live? Here in some hotel?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"How is that?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I possess now in every large town in France a house, and in Paris +and Lyons and other chief towns a palace."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +he sent me once a few good sketches about Abd-el-Kader, and then became +an adventurer somewhere else."</p> + +<p>"And this gentleman's name?"</p> + +<p>"Gratillet."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo wrote the name in his pocketbook and then said:</p> + +<p>"If I should happen to find Gratillet, I shall not forget your +recommendation."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Then he is the man for me."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I shall do my utmost; although—the Sahara is great."</p> + +<p>"But God is greater. Then I shall be with you this evening. Where can I +find you?"</p> + +<p>"Only inquire for the Palace Monte-Cristo, and now adieu till later. Who +knows whether you will not now accompany me to Algeria!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL</h2> + +<h3>THE SACRIFICE</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Haydee, look at me!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p><p>"Haydee," said Monte-Cristo, earnestly, "do you believe in me?"</p> + +<p>Haydee raised herself half sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Haydee, I am not your employer, and you are not my slave."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>Haydee drew her husband's hand to her lips, and then in a low tone +continued:</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Haydee, what are you talking about?" muttered Monte-Cristo, confused.</p> + +<p>"In truth—do not try to deceive me—you intended to give me in marriage +and bestow my hand on somebody else!"</p> + +<p>"Who knows whether it would not have proved fortunate for you?" +whispered the count sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edmond, you break my heart with such words!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> 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!"</p> + +<p>"Haydee, you make me blush—I am weak and sinful the same as others!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo threw a timid glance at Spero, who was still diligently +reading by his lamp, and then cordially said:</p> + +<p>"Haydee, then you never regretted having bestowed your hand on me?"</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"I have never caused you any pain?"</p> + +<p>"None—I am the happiest of women."</p> + +<p>"And if circumstances occurred which would compel me to give you pain?"</p> + +<p>"Then I would submit to your intelligence and not complain."</p> + +<p>"Also if I were to destroy your happiness forever?"</p> + +<p>"Even then—I would live in the past and be rich."</p> + +<p>"Then listen to me, Haydee—we must separate."</p> + +<p>"Separate?" repeated Haydee, leaping up terrified and her eyes filling +with tears.</p> + +<p>"Yes—for some time—a few months."</p> + +<p>"Thy will be done," uttered Haydee sighing; "I know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> that a sacred duty +calls you away, and God will strengthen me to bear the trial!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Haydee, for this word—it will accompany me when I am away from +you!"</p> + +<p>"And to what place does your duty call you?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"To Algiers? But why am I not allowed to accompany you? You know that +with you I am not afraid of any danger, and—"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me. I know that I dare not leave Spero."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo trembled. The most difficult was to come yet.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>He stopped short. The expression of terror in Haydee's beautiful eyes +benumbed him.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?" she ejaculated, pale and trembling. "You do +not intend to rob me of my last consolation, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Compose yourself, Haydee. Remember the words which you uttered just +now. Yes, I leave you, and take Spero with me."</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p><p>"Haydee, you once told me your life is in my hands."</p> + +<p>"That I am still ready to acknowledge. Here is my poniard. Kill me, but +leave me my child!"</p> + +<p>In consternation the young wife pulled a dagger sparkling with diamonds +out of her waist, and offered it to Monte-Cristo.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>She knelt at Monte-Cristo's feet, and embraced his knee.</p> + +<p>Suddenly her eye flashed, and she cried, animated with fresh hopes:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand you," uttered Haydee.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Haydee remained on her knees, but her tears ceased.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Haydee," remarked Monte-Cristo, quietly, "surely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> you do not believe +that I give you pain unless compelled to do so?"</p> + +<p>"No, oh, no," sighed the young wife, throwing herself in his arms. +"Speak, what is to happen?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edmond, do not speak thus! You did not intend anything wrong; you +are great and noble!"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p><p>Haydee sighed—she was conquered.</p> + +<p>"But," commencing anew with trembling voice, "also I am a mother, and my +son—"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," escaped in a low tone, like a breath, from the lips of the young +wife.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>The door leading to the terrace opened, and Mercedes with tottering +steps approached Haydee.</p> + +<p>"Haydee," said Monte-Cristo, turning toward his wife, "here is Mercedes, +whom you have known through me for some time."</p> + +<p>Haydee hastened toward Mercedes with extended arms.</p> + +<p>"Be welcome, dear friend," she accosted her with a sweet, melodious +voice.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, how beautiful you are," muttered Mercedes, looking at the young +wife admiringly.</p> + +<p>"Madame," stammered Haydee, blushing, "I give you my most valuable +possessions, my husband and my son."</p> + +<p>"Your son?" repeated Mercedes, with emotion.</p> + +<p>"Spero—come this way," said the count.</p> + +<p>The boy sprang toward him—Mercedes looked at him and sobbed bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Papa, why is she crying?" whispered Spero.</p> + +<p>"Because she is reminded of her son who is in peril of death," replied +the count significantly.</p> + +<p>"In danger of death?" Spero repeated quickly; "oh, papa, why do we not +hasten to his rescue?"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo lifted the boy joyfully in his arms and kissed him +passionately.</p> + +<p>"How is it," said Haydee, alike proud and sorrowful, "will you leave me, +Spero?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>Now Bertuccio appeared.</p> + +<p>"Count," said he, "here is a soldier who desires to speak to you!"</p> + +<p>"Ah—the Zouave Coucou—let him come in!"</p> + +<p>The Jackal entered and inquiringly looked around—yes, here it was +almost as nice as in Africa.</p> + +<p>"Coucou," the count commenced, "I have obtained for you an unlimited +furlough."</p> + +<p>Coucou scratched his head.</p> + +<p>"Well—is it, perhaps, not acceptable to you?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly that, commander, but what am I to do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> in the intervening +time? Africa's sun, the Bedouins, the Jackals, nay even the Hyenas I +shall miss."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps we can find a remedy—to-morrow at daybreak we depart for +Algiers."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"That I also hope, Coucou."</p> + +<p>"But how is it with her ladyship, commander?" asked Coucou doubtfully; +"is she satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"Ask her yourself," said Monte-Cristo.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Haydee smiled amid her tears, and the count said:</p> + +<p>"Coucou—here is my son, he will accompany us!"</p> + +<p>"The little fellow—<i>Sapristi</i>—that is grand! the young gentleman is +the little corporal—do you like the title, my young master?"</p> + +<p>Spero, clapping his hand joyfully into the proffered one of the Zouave, +cried out laughingly:</p> + +<p>"I shall do my best to earn my epaulets!"</p> + +<p>"Go now, Coucou," said Monte-Cristo, "and do not fail to be at the +harbor at six o'clock to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"I will not fail, commander."</p> + +<p>The Zouave, placing his hand to his cap, went away.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI</h2> + +<h3>HOW AND WHERE COUCOU TOOK LEAVE</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Clary had accepted this explanation without putting confidence in it; +she saw that Mercedes tried to hide something from her and that vexed +her.</p> + +<p>Madame Caraman had the next day called for her <i>protégée</i>, and in +walking home together, she said:</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Clary, what I have heard to-day—the Count of Monte Cristo +is said to be in Marseilles."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p><p>"Well, what is there remarkable in that?" Clary calmly asked. "Have you +not seen him then?"</p> + +<p>"Seen him—where?" responded Madame Caraman, stupefied.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord! could the gentleman who rode off with the Zouave have been +the count?" remarked Madame Caraman, quickly.</p> + +<p>"No doubt; a slender, pale man, with dark hair."</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"Please come with me in the garden, Madame Caraman; I like to hear more +particulars about this Count of Monte-Cristo."</p> + +<p>"But, Clary," said the French lady with astonishment, "have you never +heard of the count? What do they read yonder in England?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, various matters—but what has this to do with the count?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Only as far as the name is concerned."</p> + +<p>"H'm—I thought so; yes—France does not for no purpose possess the +credit of being at the head of civilization."</p> + +<p>"But Mamma Caraman, when are we then to return to our subject, the +count?" asked Clary, impatiently.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p><p>"At once. Alexandre Dumas has written many romances, and one of the +most interesting is 'The Count of Monte-Cristo.'"</p> + +<p>"Mamma Caraman," said Clary, vexed, "how is it that you intend to dish +up for me such a childish fable?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Albert."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> 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 <i>protégée</i>, Clary embraced her and said, +sobbing:</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> 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:</p> + +<p>"Well, Monsieur Jackal, you will perhaps tell me what induced you to +come here?"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"One—drop—of water—I suffocate!"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"There, drink a drop, you big scamp, and then explain your presence +here."</p> + +<p>The Zouave cast a grateful glance at the lady and took a long draught +out of the bottle.</p> + +<p>"Sapristi!" he then exclaimed, smacking his tongue, "that is an +excellent drop!"</p> + +<p>"Bah, never mind the drop now, but answer my question," rejoined the +lady. "What are you looking for here?"</p> + +<p>"I—intended—"</p> + +<p>"Quick, and do not stutter so awfully. Is it lawful at night and in +darkness to enter a strange abode and to frighten people?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, I shall certainly never do it again," stammered poor Coucou, +crestfallen. "I came here, because—"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p><p>"Dear me, I almost believe you have lost your power of speech," +laughingly interrupted Madame Caraman.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly, madame, but behold, there are moments in the life of a +soldier—"</p> + +<p>"In which he proves himself especially stupid," added Madame Caraman +impatiently; "stick to your subject."</p> + +<p>Coucou bowed, as if a compliment were paid him.</p> + +<p>"Madame," he commenced again, "Providence permitted us to-day to meet +each other—"</p> + +<p>"Providence?" repeated the lady in great merriment; "Mr. Zouave, you +seem to me to be getting a little crazy!"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Madame Caraman was, indeed, Clary's governess, but she was, first of +all, a wife, and Coucou's words were repugnant to her.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"A joke? But I can take an oath—"</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +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."</p> + +<p>Coucou felt as if it were best for him to sink into the ground; red like +a peony he began to stutter:</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, I intended nothing wrong!"</p> + +<p>The widow of the gendarme officer had compassion on his embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, under all conditions, even ever so difficult," ejaculated Coucou, +lively. "Speak, please; what am I to do?"</p> + +<p>"Not much, but to tell me, quite openly, why you have come to this place +this evening?"</p> + +<p>"Only to see you."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>Coucou bent his head, and Madame Caraman earnestly continued:</p> + +<p>"Would it not be more simple and also more <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>becoming, if you were to +come here to-morrow by daylight, and ask for admittance?"</p> + +<p>"But that is just the thing," despairingly exclaimed Coucou, "for me +there is no morning!"</p> + +<p>"What does that all mean?"</p> + +<p>"Well, what I say is, that for me there is no morning here!"</p> + +<p>"Lord and Saviour, how am I to understand this nonsense?" said Madame +Caraman, impatiently.</p> + +<p>Coucou changed his tactics.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," replied the companion respectfully, "and I am ready to look +for any proofs thereof."</p> + +<p>The Zouave again looked down quite abashed.</p> + +<p>"It passed previously through my head," he commenced, rather +discouraged, "that you perhaps would show a little interest for me—"</p> + +<p>"Always worse—you are getting impertinent!"</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, and why not?"</p> + +<p>"I bid you farewell, for to-morrow morning it will be all over."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p><p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"But, Monsieur Zouave, you speak in riddles to me. Where are you going, +if I may put the question?"</p> + +<p>"To Algiers, in the desert, and then further."</p> + +<p>"But you are returning to your regiment?"</p> + +<p>"God forbid. I have an unlimited furlough."</p> + +<p>"By my life, it requires a corkscrew in order to get the words out of +your mouth! Plainly told, what mean all these preliminaries?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know already that the son of Madame Mercedes, Captain +Joliette, has disappeared. I am attached to my captain and—"</p> + +<p>"Quick, make haste, I am fast losing all patience!"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Neither the Zouave nor Madame Caraman heard the half-suppressed +exclamation, which had just occurred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> close to the veranda; Madame +Caraman felt astonished, and rising suddenly asked almost breathlessly:</p> + +<p>"If I understand rightly, then, the Count of Monte-Cristo intends +searching the Sahara for Captain Joliette?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Zouave!"</p> + +<p>Coucou remained standing.</p> + +<p>"Come this way! Are you, perhaps, afraid of me? On previous occasions +you were less timid."</p> + +<p>Coucou's hesitating steps justified this suspicion, and Madame Caraman +continued, smilingly:</p> + +<p>"I shall not hurt you; there, put your hand into mine—" Coucou blushed +like a girl.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I spoke of my ugly paw—I—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind that," the lady interrupted him; "there, shake hands and +think that I am your mother!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p><p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah, Mother Caraman," called out Coucou joyfully; "you are an +excellent mother! Farewell, and if God spares me, I hope we may meet +again!"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>A soft hand now touched the lady's shoulder, and looking up she +perceived her <i>protégée</i>, who stood before her smiling.</p> + +<p>"Is it you, Clary," said the companion rather awkwardly, while she +changed color and became red and white, by turns, "you have then—"</p> + +<p>"Seen and heard the Zouave," rejoined the young girl, laughing.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p><p>"But I can assure you—he came—I am not answerable—the garden-wall—"</p> + +<p>"I know, I know, Mamma Caraman," interrupted Clary. "You do not think +that I am going to reproach you? So Coucou goes to Algiers?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in order to search for Captain Joliette; the count—"</p> + +<p>"I know all," said Clary, hastily placing her finger upon the +governess's lips; "they are going, but it is all chance—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all chance work in a desert. It is terrible! Think only of the +simoom, the sand, the Kabyles, and the wild animals!"</p> + +<p>"Have you the map of Algiers at hand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, here is the atlas."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"How do people travel in the Sahara?"</p> + +<p>"In caravans, with camels and negroes. It is a troublesome journey, dear +child, and—"</p> + +<p>"Mamma Caraman, how much money have we at present in hand?" suddenly +interrupted Clary.</p> + +<p>The governess drew a pocketbook out of her work-basket, and, examining +the contents, said:</p> + +<p>"About three hundred pounds sterling, or seven thousand five hundred +francs."</p> + +<p>"That is very little," said Clary.</p> + +<p>"We have besides bills of exchange to the amount of one hundred thousand +francs."</p> + +<p>"What may be the time now?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p><p>"Nearly ten o'clock, Clary."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, please have our horses ready."</p> + +<p>"Our horses, at this time?" said the governess, alarmed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, at once. Hurry your toilet; I shall do the same, and then +good-by."</p> + +<p>"But, Clary, what do you intend to do?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You are not thinking, surely, of spending the money this very evening?"</p> + +<p>"H'm, who knows. At any rate take also the bills of exchange, and now go +and make haste."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII</h2> + +<h3>IN THE SPIDER'S WEB</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> 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—<i>tempora mutantur</i>. 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Keep your money, old fellow—I only take my due."</p> + +<p>The Englishman felt vexed, struck with his fist on the table, took hold +of the tin can and emptied the drink with one draught.</p> + +<p>"You decline my money?" he asked with a strong English accent.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p><p>"No, braggart, I do not need your money! The host of the Big Spider is +richer than you!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>Only the landlord looked upon it indifferently.</p> + +<p>"Englishman, you are a fool," he muttered half aloud; "you wish to be +duped under all circumstances! Beware!"</p> + +<p>"Shut up," shouted the sailor, and turning toward the rest, he said in a +low voice:</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Old fellow," said he, grumbling, "is that lot of money really your own +property?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all honestly earned money."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p><p>"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."</p> + +<p>The hand of the Provencal selected a few gold pieces, but almost at the +same time he shouted aloud and staggered back.</p> + +<p>The sailor, with a vise-like grip, grasped the wrist of the intruder and +he soon dropped the gold pieces.</p> + +<p>The Provencal gnashed his teeth in rage, and, rubbing his bruised wrist, +muttered:</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the sailor coolly, "go to the devil! Away—do not touch my +money; I can skin you!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"What do you mean to do? Are you really ready to murder me?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p><p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What does this all mean? Do you think of defying us?"</p> + +<p>"I am ready for you. Just come on, if you think proper!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" the others cried, "let us divide!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you think I am a tailor?" said the Provencal, scornfully; "and +have you not also a measure in your pocket?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Agreed. Comrades, step aside!"</p> + +<p>With a push of his foot the Provencal cleared one of the tables; the +rest did the same in putting tables and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> 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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Just be a little patient, I'll procure the prize for us."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p><p>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?</p> + +<p>"Are you ready?" shouted aloud the Provencal.</p> + +<p>"Yes, bandit," sounded loudly in reply.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Wait, miserable juggler, you will suffer for it."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The Englishman allowed him to approach; but as soon as he was ready to +jump at him, he threw away poniard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Kill him, ye <i>canaille</i>! Can you look on quietly when he is killing +me?"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Up!" he called with penetrating voice, "up in the name of Manuelita!"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Away with you, bandits! Whoever touches a hair on this man's head +dies!"</p> + +<p>As soon as the men heard the voice, they remained standing as if +petrified, and even the most courageous turned pale.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>The other must have been aware of his ruling power<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> over these miserable +vagabonds, for he pulled the door open and peremptorily ordered them to +leave the room, saying threateningly:</p> + +<p>"March off, or I'll get you all on the galleys again, which you ought +never to have left!"</p> + +<p>"We are going; pardon us!" cringingly replied the men; and like beaten +dogs they all left quite hastily.</p> + +<p>The Provencal lingered a while at the door.</p> + +<p>"How about the money?" he inquired, in dog-like submission.</p> + +<p>"Throw it to the bandits outside the door, Jacopo," said the sailor, +despisingly.</p> + +<p>Jacopo took the money in both hands and scattered it in a large circle +on the street.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII</h2> + +<h3>MANUELITA</h3> + +<p>Who was Jacopo?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>"Who knows whether you will not one time become a captain? Has not your +countryman Bonaparte become emperor?"</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>Edmond Dantes has the name Jacopo fixed in his memory. He will, no +doubt, have an after opportunity to reward the brave fellow.</p> + +<p>Years had passed when the Count of Monte-Cristo began to recollect the +brave Corsican. He searched for him and said:</p> + +<p>"Do you remember a sailor whose life you once saved, and who prophesied +that you would become a captain?"</p> + +<p>Jacopo blushed; no, he has not yet forgotten this prophecy.</p> + +<p>"I knew this sailor," continued the count, "and received of him the +commission to cancel his debt to you."</p> + +<p>"His debt?" exclaimed Jacopo, not knowing the meaning thereof.</p> + +<p>"Yes, your dream points to a captaincy, and I have the order to realize +this dream."</p> + +<p>"You! oh, do not make fun of me—"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p><p>"What are you thinking of? Look here, Jacopo, do you see this yacht +which is now riding on the waves?"</p> + +<p>"I see her. She appears to me slender and beautiful—she is a pearl of a +vessel."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Master," he asked, sorrowfully, "why do you send me away? Have you to +complain of anything concerning me?"</p> + +<p>"No, Jacopo; but at present I do not need the yacht any further; I +intend for a time to remain in Paris."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"How who knows?" said Monte-Cristo, laughingly.</p> + +<p>"What do you wish to say by that assertion, master? Do you believe +Jacopo will be remiss in fulfilling his promise?"</p> + +<p>"Who knows?" repeated the count, still laughing, and then, drawing out +his pocketbook, he said in an earnest tone: "Jacopo, you have a secret."</p> + +<p>"I?"</p> + +<p>"Why avoid my question? Your blushing cheeks convict you of untruth, and +then you ought to know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> me sufficiently; you know that my looks can +penetrate the innermost depths of thy soul."</p> + +<p>Jacopo bent down his head, turned the cap in his hand confusedly, and +became red like a red garden flower.</p> + +<p>"Am I to tell you that I am able to read you to the bottom of your +heart?"</p> + +<p>"Master—"</p> + +<p>"I read there a name—"</p> + +<p>Jacopo trembled, and grasped a chair to support himself.</p> + +<p>"It is the name of a woman."</p> + +<p>"Master, master, I entreat you not to mention the name. I suffer enough +without that."</p> + +<p>The count's countenance grew gloomy.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Say, master," he said, with a sigh, "am I able to leave you?"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo smiled.</p> + +<p>"You are a child," he then said. "You cannot bear to hear anybody +speaking of your love, because you are forever separated from her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, master, then you know everything."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p><p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Manuelita"—it sounded gently like a breath from the lips of Jacopo.</p> + +<p>"You have liked this beautiful child since you first saw her, and one +day you took heart and you went to Manuelita's father—"</p> + +<p>"Who turned me out like a beggar," interrupted Jacopo, gloomily.</p> + +<p>"That he did not do," continued the count, coolly. "He told you quietly, +Manuelita will not become a poor man's wife."</p> + +<p>"And perhaps that was no insult?" continued Jacopo, vehemently. "All +people cannot be rich."</p> + +<p>"But Manuelita's father has also told you something else?" asked +Monte-Cristo, quietly.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>And Jacopo stamped angrily and uttered a heavy curse.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p><p>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:</p> + +<p>"Here, take this."</p> + +<p>"What am I to do with it, master?" asked Jacopo, astonished.</p> + +<p>"Well, can't you read any more?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I read an order for 20,000 francs to which your name is +affixed."</p> + +<p>"And payable at—"</p> + +<p>"Thomson & French, in Rome."</p> + +<p>"You perhaps doubt whether these gentlemen will honor my signature."</p> + +<p>"Oh, master, your signature is as good as ready cash!"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, go to the first banker you can find and have the check +cashed."</p> + +<p>Jacopo looked at the count quite bewildered, and thus the conversation +about Manuelita was ended, and his master gave him simply an order.</p> + +<p>"Am I to deliver the cash to you, master?" he asked, not being certain +yet.</p> + +<p>"No, not to me."</p> + +<p>"To whom, then, otherwise, master?"</p> + +<p>"To nobody."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but, dear me, what is the money for?"</p> + +<p>"You shall keep it."</p> + +<p>"I?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you yourself."</p> + +<p>"And what am I to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"You have to look for Manuelita's father, show him the money, and remind +him of his pledge."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p><p>Pale, not able to utter a word, Jacopo stared at the count; +Monte-Cristo waited a moment, and then said, smilingly:</p> + +<p>"Have you now understood me?"</p> + +<p>"No, master—I do not comprehend—"</p> + +<p>"Nay, one might almost believe that you have not a grain of sense. The +amount is your property—you have deserved it honestly."</p> + +<p>"I deserve it? Oh, you make sport of me! If I have done my duty, that is +my best recompense."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, master, you make me feel ashamed!"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No, none; only Manuelita!"</p> + +<p>"Then take her, and be happy!"</p> + +<p>Jacopo stared yet at his master rather doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"What is it to be, Jacopo, yes or no?"</p> + +<p>Instead of answering, Jacopo kissed the hand of his master.</p> + +<p>"All right, Jacopo," said Monte-Cristo. "I only require one thing of +you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, speak—speak only!"</p> + +<p>"I know, in case I came in a few months to Marseilles, you will hesitate +to accompany me."</p> + +<p>"I hesitate, master? How can you believe that? My life belongs to you!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Jacopo looked toward the ground rather ashamed; he was aware that the +count had spoken the truth.</p> + +<p>"Nor do I demand that you should leave her."</p> + +<p>Jacopo breathed a great deal easier.</p> + +<p>"What am I to do?" he inquired hastily.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Jacopo lifted his right hand on high.</p> + +<p>"Master, I swear it to you," said he, solemnly.</p> + +<p>"I trust to your oath; go and be happy."</p> + +<p>Overcome with joy, Jacopo hastened to Marseilles, soon reached the +Catalonian quarter, and greeted Manuelita with a bright smile.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Scarcely a month elapsed before the marriage was celebrated, and happy +Jacopo led the beautiful <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>Manuelita to the neat abode which he had +prepared for her.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The count appeared one morning, when Jacopo was just ready for his +fishing excursion.</p> + +<p>"Will you accompany me?" he asked, laughingly.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>That was at the time when the count ordered Jacopo to bring his farewell +wishes to Valentine and Maximilian.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> 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!</p> + +<p>One morning Jacopo said to Manuelita:</p> + +<p>"The weather is delightful; I think I shall take a fishing cruise. Will +you accompany me?"</p> + +<p>Manuelita hesitated; she thought perhaps Parlo might visit her.</p> + +<p>Jacopo noticed her hesitation, and said with a smile that tore his heart +into pieces:</p> + +<p>"I have also asked Parlo to accompany us, because he is such good +company!"</p> + +<p>Manuelita's countenance began to beam, and Jacopo suffered the pains of +torment when he perceived it, but took heart and said coolly:</p> + +<p>"I shall in the meantime go to the shore to see whether the nets are all +in proper condition."</p> + +<p>He went, and when he returned after a while, and accidentally threw a +glance at the window, he found Parlo in Manuelita's arms.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> house he appeared gay, and nobody could guess what +anguish of soul he suffered.</p> + +<p>"Are you ready?" he inquired quietly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," nodded Manuelita.</p> + +<p>"Then let us go; the nets are all ready."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The Corsican allowed the boat to go with full sail before the wind, and +soon nothing but the sky and water could be seen.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Manuelita trembled, and lifting her beautiful eyes to Jacopo she +inquired anxiously:</p> + +<p>"Jacopo, is there a storm coming on?"</p> + +<p>"Pah," replied the Corsican reassuringly, as he threw his net into the +sea; "it is of no importance."</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a heavy gale caught the foresail and tore it to shreds; the +mainsail was also destroyed, then the foresail fell to the deck.</p> + +<p>With a loud cry Manuelita sank on her knees and Parlo cried out +terrified:</p> + +<p>"Jacopo, we are lost!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p><p>"Parlo," shrieked Manuelita, despairingly, "save us—we drown!"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Save me—oh, save me, Parlo!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Hold on, Jacopo," he called aloud despairingly, and tried to take hold +of the axe.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Jacopo—you carry us to destruction!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Manuelita," he called, with a voice which sounded through the storm +like a trumpet, "you shall be happy with your lover, miserable woman!"</p> + +<p>Manuelita heard the words—she saw the quick rising flood—she saw +Jacopo kneeling upon Parlo's chest, and she understood all—all!</p> + +<p>Higher and higher still rose the water, and now Jacopo laughingly left +his rival—he was drowning in the waves.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p><p>Manuelita raised her folded hands in entreaty—then came a last shriek, +a hoarse laugh, and the boat sank, never to be seen again.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>He had succeeded in saving the woman; the two men found a watery grave. +In expectation of something, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> knelt down by the woman, and when she +opened her eyes Jacopo uttered sorrowfully:</p> + +<p>"It is not her," and then departed.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Jacopo, you have suffered heavily!"</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> of Manuelita, and to-day I find you broken, +despairing, and—alone!"</p> + +<p>Jacopo could only go on sobbing, and hot tears came down his pale, +haggard cheeks.</p> + +<p>"You have killed Manuelita," whispered the count softly.</p> + +<p>Jacopo trembled.</p> + +<p>"Who has told you, master?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know that I can read your soul?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," nodded Jacopo. "I have killed her!"</p> + +<p>"And do you regret the deed?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I," said Monte-Cristo, earnestly.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo's look rested pitifully upon the unfortunate, and his voice +sounded soft and mild when saying:</p> + +<p>"Jacopo, only to save you I came here."</p> + +<p>"I feel it, I know it; oh, how kind you are!"</p> + +<p>"Jacopo, when man is carried away by his passions and has done +evil—what you have done was bad, because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> 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—"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"So much good, that the evil may disappear before it."</p> + +<p>"Alas, if I could do that! I have killed, and I am lacking the power to +raise the dead."</p> + +<p>"And if you could nevertheless atone for your crime?"</p> + +<p>"Master, I hear your words, but their meaning is clouded for me; please +speak plain to me, that I may understand you."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh," replied Jacopo, contemptuously, "it does not say much to have +remained an honest man."</p> + +<p>"You are too modest, Jacopo; I have found you again as I left you ten +years ago; now, listen, will you accompany me?"</p> + +<p>Jacopo trembled all over.</p> + +<p>"Leave Marseilles?" muttered he, in half-suppressed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> 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!"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>Instead of an answer Jacopo made a bow, and taking the hands of his +master, kissed them.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, master," muttered he; "I am yours in body and soul!"</p> + +<p>"Good, Jacopo, I know you!"</p> + +<p>"When do we depart?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"And where am I to meet you?"</p> + +<p>"On board of the Ice Bird."</p> + +<p>"I shall be there."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo left the liquor store, the Spider and Jacopo looked after +him with a glimpse of new awakening hope in their eyes.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV</h2> + +<h3>THE HUMORS OF A LADY-MILLIONNAIRE</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Clary, at this hour to ride to Marseilles! What would Lord Ellis say to +it? I have undertaken a sacred cause, and—"</p> + +<p>"Do not trouble yourself, Mamma Caraman. I shall answer for all."</p> + +<p>"Also when we break our necks?"</p> + +<p>"Even then."</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> up trees and +shrubs with a fine white light, and they thus appeared as spectres, who +in a maddening quick fear fly along.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Clary," said Madame Caraman, suddenly; "there is dancing in the +house."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Ere Clary could answer, the porter appeared and opened the gates, asking +the pleasure of the cavalcade.</p> + +<p>"Tell your master," said Clary, imperiously, "that I wish to speak to +him at once."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>"Please ask your master to be kind enough to come down at once," said +Mademoiselle Ellis, peremptorily.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, mademoiselle, do you belong to the ball guests?" asked the +man, shyly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, is there a ball in the house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mademoiselle; Mortimer & Co. give their only daughter in marriage +to-day; if, then, mademoiselle is invited?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Then mademoiselle came upon business matters?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed."</p> + +<p>"Then I am really sorry that I cannot announce mademoiselle; my orders +are very strict."</p> + +<p>"You refuse to obey me?"</p> + +<p>"I regret very much, but—"</p> + +<p>"In this case I must myself try to procure a hearing. Back!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Not in vain was an ancestor of Miss Clary victorious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> 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 <i>elite</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The lady of the house broke into shrieks, while Mortimer with his hands +prevented further intrusion.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The wife of Lot, however, could not have been more torpid than the +company in Palais Mortimer, especially<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> when behind the first horse's +head a second one appeared, and Madame Caraman became visible.</p> + +<p>Mortimer thought he was dreaming. Was his ball-room then turned into a +riding-school?</p> + +<p>Miss Ellis did not give him much time to become horrified; she bowed +politely before the banker, and said:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mortimer, if you please, I have to speak to you!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mortimer," Clary began anew, "please come this way."</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>Mr. Mortimer forgot that two horses were in his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>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:</p> + +<p>"I am at your service, Miss Ellis."</p> + +<p>"I have to speak to you, Mr. Mortimer; the affair cannot be put off."</p> + +<p>"I am ready for you," and pointing to the left, he continued: "Pray will +you kindly accompany me to my office?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, but I should first like to leave the saddle."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"If anybody is possessed of wealth such as Mademoiselle Clary can boast +of, every eccentricity is excusable."</p> + +<p>"I am exceedingly obliged," said Clary laughing. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>"No doubt: in the first instance, money! How much do you stand in need +of?"</p> + +<p>"Am I at liberty to draw upon you for the sum of two hundred and fifty +thousand francs, Mr. Mortimer?"</p> + +<p>"Pooh! a mere bagatelle; to-morrow morning it is at your disposal."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow morning? No, Mr. Mortimer, I am in want of it at once."</p> + +<p>"At once, mademoiselle? Impossible! The bank is closed."</p> + +<p>"Then order it to be opened."</p> + +<p>"But this is against the rules of our establishment!"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Bradwood, the rival, the <i>bete noire</i> of the banking-house of Mortimer & +Co.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Mr. Edwards was the bridegroom, and if he said yes, then the banker +would also say the same.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p><p>"Your wish will be complied with, mademoiselle," said he, obligingly. +"Have you, perhaps, any further requests to make?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"For Algiers? H'm! the country is not bad, but the Frenchmen do not know +much of colonization."</p> + +<p>Madame Caraman opened her eyes very wide; she began to understand.</p> + +<p>"I depart to-morrow morning early!" Clary coolly repeated.</p> + +<p>Mortimer put his finger thoughtfully across his forehead.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"And you know, therefore, that none of them sails for Algiers," +interrupted Clary, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Well, then?" asked the banker in an animated manner.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, just on that account I have been looking for you."</p> + +<p>"Looking for me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, you know all ship-brokers, and you will easily be able to +help me out of my difficulties."</p> + +<p>"But I do not exactly understand."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p><p>"What? You desire a vessel—"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>"Three minutes have already passed," reminded Clary, threatening with +her finger.</p> + +<p>Mortimer was scratching his forehead almost despairingly. It was close +upon midnight, all offices closed. Where could he procure a vessel?</p> + +<p>"The five minutes have passed," said Clary, coolly, rising to her feet.</p> + +<p>Madame Caraman breathed more easily when she took hold of the +door-handle; now the nonsensical plan was defeated.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But, mademoiselle," groaned Mortimer, before whose eyes Bradwood's +figure appeared like a spectre, "you are demanding impossibilities of +me."</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"'In two hours I desire to dine at the bishop's palace in Edinburgh!'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p><p>"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:</p> + +<p>"'What does your lordship desire to have for dinner?'</p> + +<p>"Two hours later my ancestor dined in the bishop's palace; the captain, +of course, lost his life in the combat. Come, Madame Caraman."</p> + +<p>"With pleasure," replied the governess, and both ladies left the office.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle," sounded despairingly behind them.</p> + +<p>"Well?" asked Clary, stopping.</p> + +<p>"I do not promise for certain," stammered Mortimer, "but I believe—"</p> + +<p>"Vessel, captain, mate, and sailors."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear me, yes," groaned Mortimer, dropping exhausted into a chair.</p> + +<p>"And to-morrow at daybreak—"</p> + +<p>"It will, no doubt, be possible to comply with your request."</p> + +<p>"Especially be careful in selecting a captain; and the broker will have +to sell me the ship."</p> + +<p>"This transaction also will be carried out."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, please arrange everything; my time is very limited."</p> + +<p>Madame Caraman gazed despairingly at the banker; he was really ready to +lend his hand to such a stupid affair?</p> + +<p>"No, I do not give my permission," she at length resolutely declared. "I +have obligations toward Lord Ellis, and I object to it."</p> + +<p>Clary took the governess's head, kissed her heartily, and whispered to +her:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p><p>"Be persuaded, Mamma Caraman. I desire it, and therefore we depart."</p> + +<p>Submitting to Providence, she bent her head down; she was consoled.</p> + +<p>"Do not lose time, Mr. Mortimer," she then said, respectfully, "it has +to be."</p> + +<p>Now a slender-built man, with rosy cheeks and red beard, entered the +office; it was the bridegroom.</p> + +<p>"Here is the amount required," said he, handing the banker a packet of +bank-notes.</p> + +<p>"Are the bank-notes legal tender in Algiers?" asked Clary.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Edwards," said the banker, vivaciously, "is Wharton in the ball-room?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father."</p> + +<p>"Tell him to come here directly."</p> + +<p>"Who is Wharton?" asked Clary.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Clary laughed.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mortimer, am I rich enough to pay this Wharton?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, with your fortune you could buy a thousand Whartons."</p> + +<p>"And he will do all I ask of him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Good! Wharton is my man. One thing more, Mr. Mortimer. You have the +confidence of my family. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> will give you a power of attorney to do with +my fortune what you wish in case—"</p> + +<p>"In case?"</p> + +<p>"I do not return from Algeria."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mademoiselle!" exclaimed Mortimer, with emotion. "Are you going to +run such dangers?"</p> + +<p>"I do not say that, but business is business, and I always like to have +things in order."</p> + +<p>"Here is Mr. Wharton," said the son-in-law.</p> + +<p>The person who entered was a man of herculean stature. His thick head +was covered with bushy red hair.</p> + +<p>Clary looked curiously at the giant.</p> + +<p>"Are you an Englishman, Mr. Wharton?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No, an American from Baltimore, miss, and your humble servant."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle," interrupted Mortimer, "will you please explain to Mr. +Wharton the nature of the business?"</p> + +<p>"Willingly. Will you take a seat, please?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," replied the Yankee, "I prefer to stand."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Wharton, you have a ship at anchor at Marseilles?"</p> + +<p>"A ship, no, a pearl—the Crocodile—which is famous all over the world +for its stanchness and rapidity."</p> + +<p>"You own it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"How much did it cost you, Mr. Wharton?"</p> + +<p>"How much did it cost me? That is a peculiar question," muttered the +American.</p> + +<p>"Captain," said Clary, rising, "I am rich, very rich. I am going to make +you a proposition, and hope you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> will accept it. What price do you ask +for the Crocodile?"</p> + +<p>"But the Crocodile is not for sale. I would rather die than give up my +ship."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Let us say 100,000 francs," said Clary.</p> + +<p>The captain continued to strike his forehead.</p> + +<p>"One hundred and twenty thousand francs."</p> + +<p>The strokes became weaker.</p> + +<p>"A good business," said Mortimer.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I'll accept the offer."</p> + +<p>"Good; Mr. Mortimer will pay you the money."</p> + +<p>"Willingly," said the banker, "as soon as everything is arranged."</p> + +<p>"That shall be done at once," exclaimed the giant, gleefully; "and, +miss, give me your hand to bind the bargain."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Captain, have steam up at once!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, miss; but the ball?"</p> + +<p>"The ball is a secondary matter. You are my captain, and, naturally—"</p> + +<p>"You are right. I didn't care for the ball, anyhow. It was only the fine +brandy I thought of."</p> + +<p>"I will tell Mr. Mortimer to let you have a few bottles. Captain, when +does the sun rise to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"At 6.18 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>"</p> + +<p>"Good; at 6.19 you can depart."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"To Algiers, captain. There is one thing more I wish to say."</p> + +<p>"Speak, commodore."</p> + +<p>"Have you noticed a yacht in the harbor? the flag is a gold mountain on +a red field."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the little peanut-shell," he said, disdainfully, "which is called +the Ice Bird."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I will do so," said Wharton.</p> + +<p>"Then good-by, and remember to-morrow."</p> + +<p>When the ladies rode home the governess sighed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, miss, what will Lord Ellis say?"</p> + +<p>"That my brother has now a chance to come into the inheritance," laughed +Miss Clary.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV</h2> + +<h3>MALDAR</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Six o'clock had now struck. Haydee's arm clung tighter to Spero, and a +tear fell upon the youth's dark locks.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Are you ready, my son?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father," replied Spero, simply; "where you go, I follow."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p><p>Haydee hurriedly dried her tears as Monte-Cristo drew nearer. She clung +to his bosom, and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Am I to lose you both? If I only knew when you were going to return."</p> + +<p>The count turned to Mercedes.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You hear her words, Haydee," said Monte-Cristo, casting an anxious look +at Ali Tebelen's daughter. "What is your answer?"</p> + +<p>Haydee's beautiful face was illuminated with a halo as she took Spero's +arm and led him to his father.</p> + +<p>"Be worthy of him," she whispered, with emotion.</p> + +<p>Mercedes sank sobbing at the young wife's feet, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Now I shall get my son back again; I feel it."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Have you inspected everything?" asked Monte-Cristo of the Corsican. +"And are you satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, master."</p> + +<p>"How many men have you?"</p> + +<p>"Ten, sir; they are all trustworthy and have travelled in Africa before. +I can answer for them."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p><p>"Good. Ah! there you are, Coucou," said the count, turning to the +Zouave. "I am glad that you are punctual."</p> + +<p>The count inspected the yacht and expressed his delight to Jacopo.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo stood on deck looking back at France, where a part of his +heart was left behind.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this, Coucou?" asked the count, angrily.</p> + +<p>"Captain," the Zouave breathlessly replied, "I know I did wrong, but I +could not help it. Just look at the face of this fellow."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span></p><p>Monte-Cristo looked searchingly at the man.</p> + +<p>"Where did you pick him up?" he asked of the Zouave.</p> + +<p>"In the engine room, close to the boiler. His brain must be half roasted +already."</p> + +<p>A cloud passed over the count's face.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" he said, turning to the stranger.</p> + +<p>The man remained motionless. It was plain he did not understand the +question.</p> + +<p>The count now saw that the man was an Arabian, and repeated the question +in that tongue.</p> + +<p>"I am a poor man," the stranger submissively replied.</p> + +<p>"How did you get to the ship?"</p> + +<p>The Arabian was silent.</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo looked at the man again, and soon comprehended that the man +was a hypocrite and an impostor.</p> + +<p>Either the man was poor and had no money to go back to his home or else +he was a spy.</p> + +<p>"You were in France?" the count suddenly said to the Arabian; "how did +you get there?"</p> + +<p>"In one of the ships of your nation."</p> + +<p>"How long ago is that?"</p> + +<p>"Woe to him who counts the days and hours."</p> + +<p>"Why did you not come to me? Were you afraid I would refuse to take you +on board?"</p> + +<p>"Was I to beg?" asked the Arabian, disdainfully.</p> + +<p>"What would you do if I were to put you adrift in a bark?"</p> + +<p>"Allah is great!"</p> + +<p>Coucou understood enough of Arabian to comprehend the pride which lay in +the stranger's words. He would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"Man," he said to the Arab, "you did wrong to put yourself in my power. +Nevertheless, I shall be hospitable to you. Go!"</p> + +<p>Turning to Coucou, he said:</p> + +<p>"This man is my guest, and as such he must be sacred to you."</p> + +<p>The Arab bowed, put his hand to his forehead, and turned toward the +stairs.</p> + +<p>"One question more," said the count; "what is your name?"</p> + +<p>"I am called Maldar."</p> + +<p>"You said you were poor, and yet your name signifies riches."</p> + +<p>"He whom Allah protects is rich," replied the Arab, in veiled tones.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI</h2> + +<h3>MISS CLARY'S SECRET</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>She now called for John. This paragon of a servant would rather have cut +off his tongue and hands than ask a question.</p> + +<p>"John," said Clary, "have the horses harnessed."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lady."</p> + +<p>"See that these trunks are carried down to the carriage."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lady."</p> + +<p>"We shall leave Marseilles."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lady."</p> + +<p>"We go to Algeria; if you have any preparations to make, do so."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, my lady."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>Five minutes later the carriage was at the door.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>Clary did not reply, and Madame Caraman, encouraged by her silence, +continued:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>When the governess had ended, Clary offered her her hand, and mockingly +said:</p> + +<p>"If you do not survive the shock of my death, you will not have to +answer for it."</p> + +<p>"No, no; prove to me that I am wrong."</p> + +<p>"God forbid! You are right; but nevertheless—"</p> + +<p>"Stick to your plan, then; but suppose I do not accompany you?"</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Clary, you have a heart of gold," sobbed Madame Caraman.</p> + +<p>"Accompany me to Algeria, Madame Caraman; I need your consolation and +comforting care. I go there to perform a good action."</p> + +<p>Madame Caraman looked keenly at Clary. The latter blushed, and +continued:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p><p>"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.'"</p> + +<p>The governess pondered deeply, and Clary, who was deceived by her +silence, impetuously exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"You mean, by that, the Count of Monte-Cristo?" replied Madame Caraman, +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>Clary blushed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, softly. "The count is my model."</p> + +<p>"And you wish to follow this 'model' to Africa?"</p> + +<p>"There is a good deed to be done there, and I, who have nothing to lose, +shall follow him."</p> + +<p>Madame Caraman looked smilingly at her.</p> + +<p>"I see," she said, simply, "there is nothing to be done but to let you +have your way."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>John now opened the door, and told them the carriage was ready.</p> + +<p>"Forward!" exclaimed Madame Caraman, cheerfully, "and let us pray to God +that we return again in good health."</p> + +<p>On the way to the harbor, Clary wept silently. Madame Caraman wisely +kept her thoughts to herself.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p><p>"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."</p> + +<p>Had Madame Caraman discovered Clary's secret?</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a>CHAPTER XLVII</h2> + +<h3>AN AMERICAN WAGER</h3> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"You see, my lady, we are punctual."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>Wharton promised to carry out her orders faithfully.</p> + +<p>"Have you never had any adventures, captain?" she asked. "I should like +to know something about your wife."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Wharton is a pearl—she was a widow when I married her—"</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," continued Wharton, indifferently; "I ate up her first husband; he +was a splendid fellow."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>"What does the color of that flag mean?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Ah, my lady, as our commodore has gold blond hair, I permitted myself +to hoist up flags of the same color."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>At this moment a tall, lean figure as graceful as a mast loomed up on +deck.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Wharton," said the captain, proudly.</p> + +<p>Clary and her governess shuddered as they looked at Mrs. Wharton.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> whose silk hangings and bric-a-brac made it look more like a +parlor of the Faubourg St. Germain than a ship's cabin.</p> + +<p>"The ladies will excuse me," said Minnie, "but the time was short and I +could do no better."</p> + +<p>"You do not mean," exclaimed Clary, surprised, "that you did everything +during the night?"</p> + +<p>"The captain did not get back until midnight, and I hurriedly purchased +the things in the stores of Marseilles."</p> + +<p>Clary thought it was a tale out of the "Arabian Nights."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>A head appeared in the doorway, and the captain said:</p> + +<p>"My lady, the Ice Bird left ten minutes ago, and five minutes later the +Crocodile lifted anchor."</p> + +<p>"Good, captain. You are sure of being able to over-take the Ice Bird?"</p> + +<p>"Leave that to me, my lady."</p> + +<p>The captain now thought that the time for dining<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> had come, and invited +the ladies into a charming little room.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what lovely flowers," she exclaimed delightedly.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Wharton is the magician, my lady," replied the captain; "and now +please be seated."</p> + +<p>"Directly," replied Clary laughing; "but first permit me to beg your +wife and yourself to join us."</p> + +<p>Two more covers were placed on the table.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Ah, my Minnie is a pearl," murmured Wharton, looking tenderly back at +her.</p> + +<p>"You seem to be much attached to each other," said Clary, cordially.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"If I am not mistaken, you said before that Mrs. Wharton was a widow?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the widow of a Sioux."</p> + +<p>"And did she belong to the same tribe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lady, but she is long since a Christian."</p> + +<p>"And who was her husband?"</p> + +<p>"A Sioux, poor Tu-Sam-Ba."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p><p>"And how did he die, you say?"</p> + +<p>"I ate him up, my lady."</p> + +<p>"Ah, really?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Wharton, sorrowfully; "his wife and I ate him up, and +through this circumstance Minnie became a widow."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The captain was not loth to tell his story, and just as he was settling +himself comfortably in a chair, Clary exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Before you begin, captain, take a look at the yacht."</p> + +<p>"I shall," said Wharton, "but you can rest easy and trust in the +Crocodile."</p> + +<p>The captain disappeared, and Madame Caraman, turning to Clary, said:</p> + +<p>"We have come among strange people."</p> + +<p>"We had no other choice, and we might have fared worse."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm much obliged for the consolation—cannibals!"</p> + +<p>Clary was silent. What could she have answered?</p> + +<p>In about ten minutes the captain returned out of breath.</p> + +<p>"Think of it," he said; "these stupid firemen have not put on enough +steam, and when I came on deck—"</p> + +<p>"The Ice Bird was far away," interrupted Clary.</p> + +<p>"I cannot deny it, but it will be all right."</p> + +<p>"And your promise?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, my lady, I would like to make you a wager."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p><p>"A wager?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that when we arrive at Bona, the Ice Bird will not be visible."</p> + +<p>"Good."</p> + +<p>"And now let me continue with the story of my marriage—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I should like to know more about your wedding supper," said +Madame Caraman.</p> + +<p>The captain lighted a cigar and began:</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'I will go along,' I said, in answer to Dick's proposition.</p> + +<p>"'You know the peril, Jack,' he replied. 'You might be in danger of +being captured by the Indians and eaten up.'</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'What is the matter?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p><p>"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.</p> + +<p>"In a moment he was in convulsions."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Captain," interrupted Clary, "your tale is so interesting that one is +apt to forget, but—"</p> + +<p>"But what?" asked Wharton expectantly.</p> + +<p>"I am anxious to know how many knots the Crocodile is making."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I was not thinking of that. I am sure of my ship."</p> + +<p>"So much the better; let us go on deck."</p> + +<p>"And my story?"</p> + +<p>"Can be continued later on; I am to know yet how the Indian's widow +became your wife."</p> + +<p>Wharton preceded the ladies to the deck. He knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"Captain, where is the Ice Bird?" she said, turning to Wharton.</p> + +<p>"The Ice Bird? It's far behind. How could it compare in speed with the +Crocodile?"</p> + +<p>"Are you sure of it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lady."</p> + +<p>"Please ask one of the sailors!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Go back?" interrupted Clary. "Never!"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma Caraman, if you are afraid, you can go back to France," said +Clary, gently.</p> + +<p>Captain Wharton now came back.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Clary to him, "what's to be done?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p><p>"Captain," said Clary, "I am afraid you are promising too much again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; this time I am confident of success."</p> + +<p>"But can you answer for your men?"</p> + +<p>Wharton blew a whistle. All the crew appeared.</p> + +<p>"Men," he said, turning to the sailors, "are you going to stand by me +and follow me wherever the ship goes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" they cried in chorus.</p> + +<p>"Are you satisfied, my lady?" asked the captain, triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Where are we to go?" asked the captain.</p> + +<p>"To the interior of Africa, in fact in the neighborhood of the Sahara."</p> + +<p>"Good, commodore," replied the captain.</p> + +<p>"The captain," she said, turning to the men, "shall pay you whatever you +demand. All I ask of you is devotion."</p> + +<p>"We swear it!" shouted the sailors, enthusiastically swinging their +caps.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wharton approached the young lady and said:</p> + +<p>"Have you forgiven the captain, miss?"</p> + +<p>"Long since, Mrs. Wharton," replied Clary, grasping her hand.</p> + +<p>Clary and Madame Caraman withdrew to their boudoir.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think it rather dangerous to be in the society of these +people?" asked Madame Caraman.</p> + +<p>"Have no fear, Mamma Caraman; I answer for everything."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p><p>Clary blushed deeply, and throwing her arms about Madame Caraman's +neck, whispered:</p> + +<p>"I confess it did not surprise me. I did not wish to wound Monte-Cristo +by overtaking him."</p> + +<p>"Monte-Cristo," murmured Madame Caraman; "ah, my darling, take care."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVIII" id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a>CHAPTER XLVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE WEDDING BREAKFAST</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The night passed, and the next morning Clary asked the captain whether +they were in sight of land.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the captain.</p> + +<p>"And how long will it be before we enter the harbor?"</p> + +<p>"About two hours."</p> + +<p>"Good. Let me make you a proposition. We can dine now, and you can tell +us the conclusion of your story."</p> + +<p>An hour later dinner was concluded, and the captain continued his +narrative.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"I appreciate your feelings, captain; continue."</p> + +<p>Wharton bowed profoundly and proceeded.</p> + +<p>"The Arikaras surrounded the cabin, while I lay motionless, with my hand +on the trigger of my gun.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> 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—"</p> + +<p>"Captain," interrupted Clary, "don't you think we have reached Bona +yet?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Wharton, vivaciously, "not before the next two hours."</p> + +<p>Clary laughed loudly, and the captain saw that he had committed a +blunder.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> speak to the +Indians, and gathering courage, I exclaimed in the English language:</p> + +<p>"'Comrades, do you intend to let me starve? Have I done you any wrong?'</p> + +<p>"'You are an enemy of our race. You killed the sacred serpent.'</p> + +<p>"'Should I have waited then until it had killed me?'</p> + +<p>"'You have killed,' exclaimed one redskin, 'and you will be killed in +your turn.'</p> + +<p>"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.'</p> + +<p>"'Tu-Sam-Ba is dead,' she softly whispered; 'he was roasted. Arikaras +surprised—escaped!'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'I am hungry,' I said, pointing to my mouth.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>At this point of the story Mrs. Wharton disappeared, and Madame Caraman +took advantage of her absence to ask a question.</p> + +<p>"Has Minnie changed much since that time?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," replied the captain, his face lighting up with pleasure, "she +has grown much handsomer."</p> + +<p>This was too much for Madame Caraman's composure, and, coughing loudly, +she pressed a handkerchief to her lips and vanished through the door.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p><p>The captain looked wonderingly after her, and, turning to Clary, said:</p> + +<p>"My lady, I had much rather be alone with you! Not every one is able to +appreciate the sacrifice Mrs. Wharton made for me."</p> + +<p>"Please continue your story."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'I am not hungry,' she softly murmured.</p> + +<p>"'Then I shall not eat any more,' I declared.</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"'Tu-Sam-Ba roasted—Arikaras disturbed—did not eat—Tu-Sam-Ba, +Sioux—my husband.'</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"No, I know of none," replied Clary, hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I knew it; I—"</p> + +<p>"Captain," said a sailor, opening the door, "we are nearing the harbor +of Bona."</p> + +<p>Clary rose hastily; she felt as if a terrible burden had been lifted off +her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Do you not approve of my marriage?" asked <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span>Wharton, anxiously; "she is +a Sioux, but has become a Christian?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, I can understand your case perfectly."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a>CHAPTER XLIX</h2> + +<h3>MALDAR'S FAREWELL</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa, when you are near me, I have no fear."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But why do you speak of such things, papa?" said Spero, terrified.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What do you fear, father?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p><p>"Nothing. Rest easy, my son; I live and watch over you."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Jacopo hurried on deck, and excitedly exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Master—come quickly—your cabin door is open."</p> + +<p>"What of that?"</p> + +<p>"The safe is open, too."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!"</p> + +<p>"Master, I saw with my own eyes the contents of the safe lying on the +ground. Gold and diamonds are scattered about the floor."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo frowned. Was there a thief on board?</p> + +<p>"Come, Spero," he said, and, followed by Jacopo, father and son hurried +to the cabin.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p><p>"It was not a thief who opened the safe," he said to Jacopo.</p> + +<p>"But the jewels—"</p> + +<p>"Just so. A thief would have taken them with him."</p> + +<p>Jacopo was silent; the truth of this assertion was evident to him.</p> + +<p>"Has any one besides you known about it?" asked Monte-Cristo, after a +pause.</p> + +<p>"No one, master; I called you directly."</p> + +<p>"Good, Jacopo. Speak to no one about this matter."</p> + +<p>"But, master; if we have a thief on board—"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo frowned; he did not brook the least opposition.</p> + +<p>"Go now, Jacopo, and keep quiet."</p> + +<p>When Jacopo had gone, Monte-Cristo called Spero, and bade him examine +the lock to see if he could discover anything.</p> + +<p>Spero obeyed, but found nothing.</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo laughed.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But, father, who could have tried to open the lock with a dagger?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo shoved the point of his own sword in the lock, and opened +it easily.</p> + +<p>"Really it is so," said Spero.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></p><p>"And now let us look at the safe, which, I presume, was opened in the +same way."</p> + +<p>Spero looked carefully at the lock, and then said:</p> + +<p>"It has not been opened with a dagger, I am sure of it."</p> + +<p>"How do you know this?"</p> + +<p>"I see it, papa; the man must have had a spiral spring."</p> + +<p>"A spiral spring?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; such as is used in pocket watches."</p> + +<p>"You are right."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"A dagger, father," said Spero, in affright.</p> + +<p>"And on this dagger a piece of parchment is fastened."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo carefully unrolled the scrap of paper and read the +following, written with blood, in Arabian characters:</p> + +<p>"Maldar to Monte-Cristo. The poor man who trusts in Allah is richer than +the nobleman who fights against him. Beware of the Khouans!"</p> + +<p>"Who are the Khouans, papa?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span></p><p>"I shall tell you later on—there is no time to lose now. Come!"</p> + +<p>Hurriedly going on deck with Spero, the count accosted Jacopo.</p> + +<p>"When did the Arab leave the ship?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"He is still here, master, in the custody of Coucou."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure, Jacopo? Tell him to come to me."</p> + +<p>Jacopo disappeared, but soon returned.</p> + +<p>"Master," he said, "the Zouave is fast asleep."</p> + +<p>"And the Arab?"</p> + +<p>"Has disappeared."</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but we will find him. Come, now! Search every corner of the ship."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo stopped the sailors.</p> + +<p>"It is useless," he said, pointing to the shore, "look there!"</p> + +<p>Maldar stood on the beach, shaking his fist angrily at the yacht.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>The next minute the yacht reached the harbor—they were in Africa!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_L" id="CHAPTER_L"></a>CHAPTER L</h2> + +<h3>THE HOLY SIGNAL</h3> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> 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:</p> + +<p>"The time will come for those who are to appear before Allah's throne."</p> + +<p>"The time has come," answered another voice.</p> + +<p>"Swear by the wise Koran that you are sent to show the right road," +continued the saint.</p> + +<p>"I swear it by the wise Koran," replied the same voice.</p> + +<p>"Are you he whom I expect?"</p> + +<p>"I am he whom Allah sent."</p> + +<p>"Have you the sacred signal?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p><p>"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.</p> + +<p>The saint got off his horse, kissed the ground, and muttered half aloud:</p> + +<p>"Allah is Allah, and Mahomet is his prophet."</p> + +<p>"Rise," said the other; "the true believer only kneels to Allah."</p> + +<p>"Are you not Allah's messenger? Have you not come to chastise the +infidel oppressors of the holy island?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Are they ready to obey the messenger of Allah? Are they ready to +sacrifice their own and their wives' lives?"</p> + +<p>"Look at me! I have torn my limbs with pincers. The brothers have done +likewise. We are ready to obey."</p> + +<p>"Then I say to you, Maldar Mohammed ben Abdallah, the hour for revenge +has come. Death to the Giaours!"</p> + +<p>He paused for a moment; then continued:</p> + +<p>"Where are the Khouans?"</p> + +<p>"At Uargla."</p> + +<p>"Where are the Christian prisoners? Have my commands been obeyed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, master, not a hair of their heads has been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> touched; but the +believers grumbled at showing them mercy and demanded their deaths, +especially in the case of one, a French captain."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>With an imperious wave of the hand Maldar pointed toward the horizon, +and the Mekkadem prostrated himself anew.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LI" id="CHAPTER_LI"></a>CHAPTER LI</h2> + +<h3>UARGLA</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>The crowd yelled like savages.</p> + +<p>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,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> 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!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LII" id="CHAPTER_LII"></a>CHAPTER LII</h2> + +<h3>CAPTAIN JOLIETTE</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>A dark form appeared in the doorway, shoved some food toward the +prisoner, and disappeared without saying a word.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Mother, mother, forgive me, but I cannot do otherwise."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p><p>At this moment a loud noise was heard, and the assassins led by the +marabout entered Joliette's dungeon.</p> + +<p>He resolved to die bravely as became a French soldier.</p> + +<p>Heavy blows were rained against his cell, and at the same moment +Joliette heard a voice call to him:</p> + +<p>"Captain, captain! Do not despair—help is at hand!"</p> + +<p>Just then his cell door was burst open and the murderers rushed in.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIII" id="CHAPTER_LIII"></a>CHAPTER LIII</h2> + +<h3>THE LION IN CONFLICT WITH THE LION</h3> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"This is the place we must go to—in Uargla we shall find what we are +looking for."</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Spero uttered a cry in his sleep, and looked wildly about him.</p> + +<p>"No, no; let me go! Papa, help—they are carrying me away—help me!"</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo, frightened, bent over the sleeping boy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span></p><p>"What is the matter, Spero?" he asked, tenderly; "have you been +dreaming?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, how glad I am it was only a dream! I will tell it to you."</p> + +<p>"Speak, Spero, I am listening. You know," he consolingly added, "dreams +are untrue."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have often told me that, and yet—"</p> + +<p>The child paused and looked timidly in the corner of the tent.</p> + +<p>"Why do you look so timidly over there?" asked the count, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"When was it, Spero?"</p> + +<p>"At the moment when you laid the pen down and came to me."</p> + +<p>"You saw me then? You were not sleeping?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo embraced the excited child and reassuringly murmured:</p> + +<p>"Keep quiet, Spero, I am with you."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo looked thoughtful. Suppose his boy should be taken from +him? No, it was nonsense. Spero must have been dreaming.</p> + +<p>"Spero," he said, turning to the child, "I shall watch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> over your +slumbers! Lie down again and have no fear. Come, I will kiss you; think +of your mother and go to sleep."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Who had any interest in breaking into his tent? Did they wish to kill +him or Spero?</p> + +<p>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. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span>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.</p> + +<p>"Let no one stir!" shouted the count above the din. "I will answer for +your life, but you must obey my orders."</p> + +<p>"Here I am," said Coucou, coming forward. "Master, let me follow you. I +know the lion and understand how to fight him."</p> + +<p>"Master, take my life, but spare your own," implored Jacopo.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>A new uproar was heard, followed by the report of a gun.</p> + +<p>"A man seems to have attacked the beast," said the count, running in the +direction whence the sound proceeded.</p> + +<p>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,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> dashing some water over it, +gradually restored the old man to his senses.</p> + +<p>"Bertuccio," he softly said, "do you know me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, master. Ah, the lion has finished me! Its claws were buried like +daggers in my breast."</p> + +<p>"Have you nothing to say to me? Have you no wish to be carried out? +Speak, you know I am your friend."</p> + +<p>"Quick, quick!" he whispered, breathlessly; "one +more—drop—Spero—you—"</p> + +<p>"Drink!" said the count, placing a bottle to his lips.</p> + +<p>"Master, beware of your enemies. I saw them, I followed them, and then I +met the lion."</p> + +<p>"Enemies, you say? How many were there?"</p> + +<p>"Two. They were Arabs. Ajassuas, as I believe. Oh, beware of them!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"My dear master—it is—about—that wretch."</p> + +<p>"You speak of Benedetto?"</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"To what?"</p> + +<p>"To let Benedetto live, if he should ever cross your path. He must not +die by your hand."</p> + +<p>"I swear not to kill him, Bertuccio; by the head of my child."</p> + +<p>Bertuccio muttered his thanks, and passed silently away.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span></p><p>"The lion has conquered the lion," whispered a voice close to the +count.</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo turned around and saw a delicate young girl in a white +bernouse.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" he gently asked.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIV" id="CHAPTER_LIV"></a>CHAPTER LIV</h2> + +<h3>MEDJE</h3> + +<p>At the count's question, the girl passed her small white hand slowly +across her forehead, and in a low voice said:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Then your name is Medje?" exclaimed the count in a sudden fit of joyful +inspiration.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am Medje," she proudly answered, throwing back her veil and +revealing a countenance of superb beauty.</p> + +<p>Coucou now hastened up, and as he beheld the young Arabian, he excitedly +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Medje, commander, it is Medje. Ask her where her 'little papa' is."</p> + +<p>Medje turned deathly pale as she heard these words.</p> + +<p>She stretched her arms toward the south and mournfully said:</p> + +<p>"Little papa is down there, in the sultana's dungeon."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean Captain Joliette, whom you call little papa?" asked +Monte-Cristo.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And the sultana is Uargla, the mysterious city?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span></p><p>The young girl shivered as she replied:</p> + +<p>"Yes, Uargla. There he suffers and there, too, he will be killed."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo waved back those around, and then asked her in a whisper:</p> + +<p>"Why did you come here?"</p> + +<p>"To look for you."</p> + +<p>"For me? Do you know me?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Somebody has told you my name?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Explain yourself more plainly."</p> + +<p>"I will tell you everything, but let these men go away."</p> + +<p>"Follow me," said the count.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Poor Bertuccio," sighed the Jackal, "he was a good comrade."</p> + +<p>"And a faithful soul," added Monte-Cristo.</p> + +<p>Spero came running up, and winding his arm around his father's neck, +whisperingly asked:</p> + +<p>"Papa, why could I not accompany you?"</p> + +<p>"My child, it was a fight with a lion."</p> + +<p>"You were not afraid? Why should I have been?"</p> + +<p>The handsome boy now, for the first time, perceived Medje, who smiled at +him.</p> + +<p>"Who is that, papa?" he asked in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"A friend, Spero; offer her your hand."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span></p><p>The boy obeyed and Medje raised his hand to her lips, murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Son of him who kills lions, may God measure your years by the kisses +which your father gives you."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Oh, master, hear me. Do not let this woman cross the threshold of the +camp."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Did you not see the sign on her cheek? She is accursed."</p> + +<p>Involuntarily Medje covered her face with her hands.</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo angrily retorted:</p> + +<p>"Silence. The weaker have a right to the hospitality of the stronger."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"All the same, leave me. Medje has placed herself under my protection +and I will not deceive her confidence."</p> + +<p>The Arabian girl clung weeping to the count.</p> + +<p>"Do not grieve," he said, "you have mentioned a name which renders you +holy in my eyes."</p> + +<p>He then turned to the Arab, and sternly continued:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span></p><p>The other Arabs, who had drawn near, heard these words, and +enthusiastically exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"We will not leave you, lion-killer."</p> + +<p>The count nodded and, addressing the Corsican, said:</p> + +<p>"Give him double what he claims. In my home no attention is paid to +magic; we honor God and laugh at demons."</p> + +<p>He slowly entered his tent, and gazing at Spero and Medje, in a friendly +tone of voice said:</p> + +<p>"Do not be afraid, I am protecting you. Draw nearer, Medje, and answer +my questions."</p> + +<p>The young girl bowed low in token of obedience, and the count began:</p> + +<p>"So you know Captain Joliette?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he saved my life, and thereby became my lord and master."</p> + +<p>"You know who has captured him?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Are they masters of Uargla?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And you assert that Captain Joliette is still alive?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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 <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span>Arabian girl had disappeared almost at the same time as +the captain again came into his mind.</p> + +<p>"You love Captain Joliette?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Medje's face became fiery red.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>She pointed to Spero, who had again fallen asleep, and Monte-Cristo, +frightened in spite of himself, said:</p> + +<p>"Speak. I will not interrupt you again."</p> + +<p>"My father," began Medje hastily, "was a mighty Kabyle chief. He was a +wise man and his tribe was industrious and prosperous.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"'By Allah,' he exclaimed, 'I forbid you to touch this maiden; she +carries the sacred sign.'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span></p><p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span></p><p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I saw a sight which froze my blood with horror.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'Medje,' he said, 'the Frenchman who stole you is in our hands.'</p> + +<p>"'And you will kill him, coward,' I cried.</p> + +<p>"'No, not yet,' he replied with a smile; 'look!'</p> + +<p>"I did so, and saw the captain carried on the bier through the low iron +gate.</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"'And what will you do with me?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Keep you for myself.'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'Leave me,' I then said, 'and when you have fulfilled your word, +return.'</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah! we're off at last!" cried Coucou, throwing his cap in the air.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"To horse! To horse! To Uargla!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LV" id="CHAPTER_LV"></a>CHAPTER LV</h2> + +<h3>"DO NOT DIE, CAPTAIN!"</h3> + +<p>We left Captain Joliette at the moment when the savages commanded by the +marabout entered his cell, and a voice had called to him:</p> + +<p>"Do not die, captain!"</p> + +<p>"Kill him! kill him!" shouted the crowd.</p> + +<p>The marabout now advanced toward the captain, and, placing his lean hand +on the prisoner's shoulder, said:</p> + +<p>"There is but one God, and Mahomet is his prophet!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"The Khouans! the Khouans!" was whispered from one to the other.</p> + +<p>They all crowded around and kissed the mantle of the chief.</p> + +<p>"You are all cowardly murderers!" cried Albert. "Make an end of it."</p> + +<p>"You want to die?" said the chief. "All right; but I warn you that your +agonies will be terrible!"</p> + +<p>Upon a wink from the chief the captain was tied to a post.</p> + +<p>"Bring out the other prisoners!" commanded the Arab chieftain.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span></p><p>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.</p> + +<p>"Long live our captain!" they cried, as they caught a glimpse of his +uniform.</p> + +<p>Tears started in Albert's eyes, and he loudly joined in the cry.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"You old fool, you, what are you staring at? You don't want me to admire +your ugly face, do you?"</p> + +<p>The marabout, who did not understand French, looked at him in +astonishment, while the soldiers burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>The stranger looked sharply at Albert, and said:</p> + +<p>"Captain, by all the saints, you must not die."</p> + +<p>"What?" exclaimed Albert, surprised, "it was you who—"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Albert, in a daze, gazed at the massacre and the pools of blood which +already threatened to reach his feet.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span></p><p>Gratillet now fell. No shot had struck him. Horror had no doubt put an +end to the poor fellow's life.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Unfaithful, traitorous people!" he exclaimed at the mosque at Uargla. +"Who told you to disobey my orders?"</p> + +<p>The Khouans begged pitifully for mercy.</p> + +<p>"Allah demands obedience," continued Maldar; "and now bring the young +prisoner, who is waiting in front of the mosque, for the sentence."</p> + +<p>The sheik departed, and soon returned with Spero, who was tightly bound. +The lad was pale, but courage shone from his dark eyes.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span></p><p>"Come nearer," said Maldar, "and tell me your name."</p> + +<p>"Why do you wish to know, and by what right?" asked Spero, folding his +arms.</p> + +<p>Maldar gnashed his teeth.</p> + +<p>"By right of the strong, and with the right to punish you for the sins +of your country. What is your name?"</p> + +<p>"Spero."</p> + +<p>"Spero means hope. Tell me now the name of your father?"</p> + +<p>"My father is the Count of Monte-Cristo!"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"He is a prince who governs the souls of men."</p> + +<p>"Your father is rich—very rich?"</p> + +<p>"What does that concern you?"</p> + +<p>"You are brave, and your father must love you."</p> + +<p>Spero did not answer, but his eyes sparkled when Maldar spoke his +father's name.</p> + +<p>"I will know how to strike your proud father; he shall grovel in the +dust at my feet. I—"</p> + +<p>He stopped short. A new idea seemed to have taken possession of him.</p> + +<p>"All the prisoners are dead, are they not?" he asked, turning to a +sheik.</p> + +<p>"No, master, one still lives, a French officer."</p> + +<p>"His name?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Joliette."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Go," said Maldar, "bring the prisoner here."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span></p><p>The sheik left, and Maldar walked up and down with his big strides.</p> + +<p>"Master!" cried the sheik, running in breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Joliette is gone."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVI" id="CHAPTER_LVI"></a>CHAPTER LVI</h2> + +<h3>THE FLIGHT</h3> + +<p>By what miracle had Albert escaped?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Albert was leaning with closed eyes against the post, when a well-known +voice angrily cried:</p> + +<p>"Captain, let us think now of our rescue."</p> + +<p>It was Gratillet.</p> + +<p>"Let me die," murmured Albert, wearily. "I do not care to live any +more."</p> + +<p>"You are talking nonsense. Die, forsooth! Shake off your torpor and be a +man."</p> + +<p>"Through what miracle did you recover your life?"</p> + +<p>"None, I tell you. I never was dead; only shamming. Oh, if I only had a +knife."</p> + +<p>While Gratillet was talking he worked at Albert's cords with his teeth +and nails, and finally succeeded in freeing him.</p> + +<p>"And now," he said, "let's decamp, and that as soon as possible."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span></p><p>The two men were soon on the road, the journalist peering about and +keeping up a lively conversation.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Albert followed the journalist's orders, and the next minute was lying +on the ground near his companion.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Do you need a cord?" asked Albert. "If so, I have a scarf which answers +the same purpose."</p> + +<p>"Is it strong?"</p> + +<p>"Best of wool and perfectly new."</p> + +<p>"How long is it?"</p> + +<p>"Four yards."</p> + +<p>"Then give it to me."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Flying is not so bad after all," said the reporter. "It is doing +splendidly and I—"</p> + +<p>The scarf broke and Gratillet fell to the bottom, carrying Albert along, +who had held one end of it.</p> + +<p>At the same moment the discharge of musketry was heard. Had they escaped +from Scylla to fall into Charybdis?</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVII" id="CHAPTER_LVII"></a>CHAPTER LVII</h2> + +<h3>AT THE FOOT OF THE KIOBEH</h3> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Go back, you traitress!" he angrily exclaimed. "You have delivered my +son over to the Khouans."</p> + +<p>A deadly pallor overspread Medje's fine features, and sobbing bitterly +she let her head fall on the horse's neck.</p> + +<p>"Oh, master!" she said, "why do you accuse me?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Courage, dear master, courage! Our horses are as swift as the wind. You +will conquer the Khouans. The lion-killer is invincible!"</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"This for Jacques! This for Pierre! This for Jean! Back, you brown +devils!"</p> + +<p>When Monte-Cristo had reached the foot of the Kiobeh, Medje said:</p> + +<p>"It is here."</p> + +<p>"Light the torches!" commanded Monte-Cristo.</p> + +<p>It was done.</p> + +<p>"In the name of Allah, the merciful and charitable God," exclaimed the +count.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, who comes here as an enemy?"</p> + +<p>"Let us not fight with words," replied Monte-Cristo. "It was your people +who first attacked us."</p> + +<p>"Blood has flowed," replied Maldar, coldly; "and it falls back upon your +head."</p> + +<p>"Your people have made prisoners; sneakingly surprised people at night +and carried them away. What have you done with these prisoners?"</p> + +<p>"They are dead."</p> + +<p>"All?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span></p><p>"All!"</p> + +<p>"All dead?" exclaimed Monte-Cristo, trembling. "Woe to you, if you have +spoken the truth."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"In the devil's name!" exclaimed Coucou. "He shall pay for that."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Are you speaking of your own son?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Is my son dead?"</p> + +<p>"Your son still lives," replied Maldar.</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo uttered a cry. His son lived and was behind these walls.</p> + +<p>"You are Maldar. You have enjoyed my hospitality. What crime have I +committed that you should punish me through my child?"</p> + +<p>"The crime of your race! You are a son of France."</p> + +<p>"You say I am a son of France. Have you not served that country too?"</p> + +<p>"Only dissimulation. I waited for a favorable opportunity."</p> + +<p>"What will you do with my son?"</p> + +<p>"The decision depends on you."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?"</p> + +<p>"Come with confidence to us," replied Maldar, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span>earnestly. "In the +citadel I will discuss your son's ransom with you."</p> + +<p>"Do not go, master," cried Coucou; "they are laying a trap for you."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo strode, nevertheless, toward the door.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVIII" id="CHAPTER_LVIII"></a>CHAPTER LVIII</h2> + +<h3>MONTE-CRISTO BECOMES EDMOND DANTES</h3> + +<p>"Maldar," the count cried aloud, "I am here."</p> + +<p>The door was opened. Monte-Cristo went into a large courtyard. Maldar +was waiting for him.</p> + +<p>"Here I am," said the count. "You have called me about the ransom for my +son. What is the sum you ask?"</p> + +<p>"I did not say it should be money."</p> + +<p>"Then take my life—anything you wish."</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"Go on—go on," urged Monte-Cristo.</p> + +<p>"Have patience. Come here and write."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The count was silent, and seated himself at the table.</p> + +<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo, without hesitation, had written the words down, and the +Arabian, looking sharply at him, continued:</p> + +<p>"Put your name under what you have just written—"</p> + +<p>"One word more," interrupted the count. "I understand your aim. You want +to lead a French detachment in ambush?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. For the head of your son, I require those of a hundred Frenchmen."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo, in a trembling voice, read the letter.</p> + +<p>"Spero, my son, choose between life and death. Shall I sign the letter?"</p> + +<p>"You cannot hear his voice," said Maldar; "but wait a moment, and I will +have him brought here."</p> + +<p>He motioned with his hand. The door was thrown open, and the next minute +Spero lay in his father's arms.</p> + +<p>"Speak, Spero, what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>The boy took the paper and tore it into pieces.</p> + +<p>"Let them kill us," he said, firmly.</p> + +<p>When Maldar heard these words, he gave a wild yell and sprang upon the +boy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span></p><p>"Wretched worm!" he hissed; "are you aware that I can break every bone +in your body?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Fire—fire!" shouted Maldar.</p> + +<p>The men obeyed, but not a bullet entered the room.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIX" id="CHAPTER_LIX"></a>CHAPTER LIX</h2> + +<h3>EDMOND DANTES</h3> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Kill him, in the name of Allah!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Count of Monte-Cristo!" came a loud voice through the night.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>"Count of Monte-Cristo!" Clary exclaimed, in a clear, bright voice, +"courage! Help is coming."</p> + +<p>"Count of Monte-Cristo," came from another voice, "thanks, in the name +of my mother."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Count of Monte-Cristo, we must first rescue the child."</p> + +<p>He took a long rope and bound it round Spero's waist. Then he let the +boy gently over the parapet.</p> + +<p>"Papa," came Spero's voice from below, "I am safe."</p> + +<p>The stranger pulled the rope up anew, and said as he turned to the +count:</p> + +<p>"It is your turn now."</p> + +<p>"But you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind me; in case of necessity I will jump off. But be quick, +we have no time to lose."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span></p><p>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:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I am a French colonist, count, and my name is Fanfaro."</p> + +<p>Coucou and Albert now ran up to the count.</p> + +<p>"The gentleman is evidently a monkey?" he asked the Zouave.</p> + +<p>Fanfaro laughed.</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Clary now approached the count.</p> + +<p>"How thankful I am," she said, "to have arrived so opportunely."</p> + +<p>"And what brought you here?" asked the count.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"And now, I thank God, the matter is over," interrupted Madame Caraman.</p> + +<p>"And it was for me, count, that you incurred all these dangers?" asked +Albert.</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo looked tenderly at the young man.</p> + +<p>"I thank God I found you," he said, extending his arms to the young man.</p> + +<p>"And now," Albert said, "let me present you to my other rescuer."</p> + +<p>Gratillet advanced and, bowing gracefully, said:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span></p><p>"Count, excuse me, please, if my clothes are not exactly fashionable, +but we have had no time to make our toilet."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Gratillet," he said, "are you not a friend of Beauchamp?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, his friend and reporter."</p> + +<p>"But where is Jacopo?" asked the count, looking about for the Corsican.</p> + +<p>"Jacopo is dead," said the Zouave; "a bullet shot him through the +heart."</p> + +<p>Monte-Cristo hurried with Coucou and Albert to the spot where Jacopo had +fallen. Suddenly he struck his forehead.</p> + +<p>"What has become of Medje?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Medje?" asked Albert.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she brought us here, and—merciful Heaven! here she lies," the +count exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Medje was lying motionless on the ground, with a dagger wound in the +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Poor Medje!" said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Little father," whispered Medje when she had regained consciousness.</p> + +<p>She stroked Albert's hand. Then her dark eyelashes closed over her eyes. +Medje was dead.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LX" id="CHAPTER_LX"></a>CHAPTER LX</h2> + +<h3>SECRETS</h3> + +<p>Monte-Cristo and Albert rode slowly near Fanfaro, while Coucou and +Gratillet kept the ladies company. The Zouave spoke continually with +Madame Caraman.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," said Coucou, "how did you come to Africa?"</p> + +<p>"Because my lady wished it."</p> + +<p>"That is a bitter disappointment. I had imagined that it was on account +of—"</p> + +<p>"You—you stupid fool!"</p> + +<p>"I will be good, Madame Caraman, if you will tell me how you came to +Uargla."</p> + +<p>"We followed the Count of Monte-Cristo."</p> + +<p>"You are in love with him."</p> + +<p>"We followed the count because we wished to aid him in rescuing Captain +Joliette."</p> + +<p>"But tell me about the Americans."</p> + +<p>"They deserted us as soon as we reached the land. The Arabs had +previously stolen our camels."</p> + +<p>"Infamous race," growled Coucou.</p> + +<p>"We were thus all alone in the desert. We suffered from hunger and +thirst, and had we not fortunately reached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> 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."</p> + +<p>"You noticed that," said the Zouave, ironically.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" asked the count.</p> + +<p>"Oh," replied Fanfaro, laughing, "that is Bobichel."</p> + +<p>"Bobichel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was once a clown when I was an acrobat. He amuses my little son +now, by imitating the frog."</p> + +<p>Bobichel uttered a cry of joy as he saw the party approach.</p> + +<p>"Thank God, master," he gleefully cried, "that you are home again. +Caillette, Firejaws!" he cried aloud, "he is just returned!"</p> + +<p>A woman and a giant hurried at Bobichel's call.</p> + +<p>Fanfaro jumped from his horse, and embraced his wife and daughter.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span></p><p>"Irene, have a bed prepared. The child will be intrusted to your care."</p> + +<p>Madame Caraman carried Spero into the house. Monte-Cristo examined the +patient carefully, and breathed more lightly.</p> + +<p>"A few days' rest will set him all right again," he said, turning to +Fanfaro, "and if we can make use of your friendship—"</p> + +<p>"Count, what I possess is yours. But let me introduce you to the +colony," said Fanfaro.</p> + +<p>Upon his call his wife appeared, a charming brunette about thirty years +of age.</p> + +<p>"Madame Fanfaro," said the colonist, "followed me to the desert."</p> + +<p>"This is Firejaws, the king of athletes. And now it is the turn of +Bobichel, the clown."</p> + +<p>"It looks to me like a fairy tale," said the count. "Were you really a +tight-rope walker and acrobat before?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, count, and I am the only one of us who has given up the profession +for good."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Monsieur Fanfaro," exclaimed Madame Caraman, "won't you tell us +your history? I am curious to know it."</p> + +<p>"What does Irene say to the proposition?" asked Fanfaro tenderly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, I am satisfied," replied the handsome woman, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Good, then I shall begin," said Fanfaro.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p class="tbrk"> </p> + +<p class="center">"THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO" (END OF PART ONE)</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td> + Project Gutenberg has Volume II of this work.<br /> + See <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/22086">http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/22086</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO, VOLUME I (OF 2)***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 22018-h.txt or 22018-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/0/1/22018">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/0/1/22018</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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