Transcriber's Note:

 Obvious typographical errors have been corrected, and inconsistent spelling has been made consistent. 

 This volume does not have any illustrations. 

The Works of Alexandre Dumas in Thirty Volumes

THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO

VOLUME ONE

Illustrated with Drawings on Wood byEminent French and American Artists

[Illustration: Publisher's logo]

New YorkP. F. Collier and SonMCMIV

CONTENTS

 I. A MARRIAGE CONTRACT AND ITS END 3

 II. A CALM BRIDE 8

 III. A FAMILY TRAGEDY 13

 IV. A PECULIAR TRIAL 16

 V. THE RESULT OF THE CATASTROPHE 20

 VI. BENEDETTO, THE MURDERER 23

 VII. A MIRACLE 29

 VIII. THE SENTENCE OF DEATH 35

 IX. THE EDITORIAL ROOMS 43

 X. PONTOON NO. 2 50

 XI. THE DEAD LIVE 55

 XII. THE CONFESSION 59

 XIII. FORGIVENESS 72

 XIV. THE RAT-KING 78

 XV. IN THE BAGNIO 88

 XVI. THE ESCAPE 94

 XVII. IN THE MOUNTAIN PASS OF OLIOLLES 98

 XVIII. THE MOTHER 107

 XIX. ON THE SEA 111

 XX. MONTE-CRISTO 116

 XXI. WITH THE PANDURS 127

 XXII. THE QUEEN OF FLOWERS 132

 XXIII. GREEN, WHITE AND RED 138

 XXIV. A FIGHT IN THE STREETS 150

 XXV. THE MASKS FALL 152

 XXVI. LOVE OF COUNTRY 156

 XXVII. SHADOWS OF THE PAST 160

 XXVIII. THE CONSPIRATORS 164

 XXIX. FATHER AND SON 168

 XXX. IN THE WELL 178

 XXXI. SPERO 186

 XXXII. ECARTE 194

 XXXIII. FORWARD! 198

 XXXIV. SERGEANT COUCOU 204

 XXXV. MISS CLARY 207

 XXXVI. A MOTHER 215

 XXXVII. THE RING 218

XXXVIII. "SEARCH FOR THE WIFE!" 226

 XXXIX. DEPEND ONLY ON YOURSELF 233

 XL. THE SACRIFICE 240

 XLI. HOW AND WHERE COUCOU TOOK LEAVE 249

 XLII. IN THE SPIDER'S WEB 263

 XLIII. MANUELITA 273

 XLIV. THE HUMORS OF A LADY-MILLIONNAIRE 291

 XLV. MALDAR 305

 XLVI. MISS CLARY'S SECRET 310

 XLVII. AN AMERICAN WAGER 314

 XLVIII. THE WEDDING BREAKFAST 325

 XLIX. MALDAR'S FAREWELL 331

 L. THE HOLY SIGNAL 336

 LI. UARGLA 340

 LII. CAPTAIN JOLIETTE 342

 LIII. THE LION IN CONFLICT WITH THE LION 345

 LIV. MEDJE 352

 LV. "DO NOT DIE, CAPTAIN!" 363

 LVI. THE FLIGHT 368

 LVII. AT THE FOOT OF THE KIOBEH 370

 LVIII. MONTE-CRISTO BECOMES EDMOND DANTES 374

 LIX. EDMOND DANTES 377

 LX. SECRETS 381

THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO

CHAPTER I

A MARRIAGE CONTRACT AND ITS END

In the month of July of the year 1829, a man created a great sensationin 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; andthe mystery surrounding him only tended to make the hero of the seasonmore interesting. 

The Count of Monte-Cristo, from Italy--from Malta--no one knewwhence--had unlimited credit with the banking house of Danglars, one ofthe largest in Paris; owned the finest mansion--a superb villa--atAuteuil, and the handsomest turnout on the road, which he presented to abanker's wife, without letting any one know his reason for doing so; allthis was sufficient to make him the central point around which revolvedthe social gossip of the day. But, besides this, the handsome strangermakes his appearance at the theatres in the company of a lady in Greciandress, whose transcendent beauty and countless diamonds awake alikeadmiration and cupidity. Like moths around the flame, society fluttersabout the legendary count, and it is principally the golden youth whofind in him their centre of attraction. Among the latter were moreespecially Albert Morcerf, the son of a general, Debray, a young andtalented attaché at the Foreign Office, Beauchamp, and Chateau-Renaud, who served as the asteroids of the new star in the Parisian sky. 

Sometimes they were joined at those famous dinners which only aMonte-Cristo understood how to give, by a Count Andrea Cavalcanti, whoat first appeared there with his father, Major Cavalcanti. Although hewas a stranger, he was received in society through his acquaintance withMonte-Cristo and with Baron Danglars, in whose banking house he had alarge sum on deposit. 

The young count, a perfect Apollo, with classically-cut features, didnot fail to produce an impression upon Eugenie, a proud, black-eyedbrunette, the only daughter of the millionnaire Danglars; and as themillions of the father, in conjunction with the peculiar beauty of thedaughter, began to interest the count, it was not long before theythought of marriage. Danglars, who had been a heavy loser in certainspeculations of which the public was ignorant, hoped to rehabilitatehimself with the millions of his prospective son-in-law, and thereforethere was nothing to prevent the marriage of the proud Eugenie and thehandsome Andrea. 

One July evening, representatives of the high financial society, and afew members of the aristocracy, were invited to Danglars' house towitness the signing of the marriage contract of the only daughter of thehouse with the Italian, Count Andrea Cavalcanti, of the princely houseof Cavalcanti. At five o'clock, when the guests arrived, they found allthe rooms in the mansion brilliant with wax-lights. 

The bride was simply yet tastefully attired: a white satin dresstrimmed with lace of the same color; a single white rose, which was halfhidden in her raven black hair, formed the only ornament of the younglady, whose jewels, it was well known, represented a fortune. The youngcount was surrounded by representatives of the gilded youth, who givethe tone in the Jockey Club, and are the recognized authorities for allEurope in questions of taste, fashion, and sport. 

Baron Danglars was the centre of a group of bankers, to whom hedeveloped 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 ofyoung and old cavaliers, who paid court to her with the greatestceremony, and whose adorations were accepted by the lady as a tributedue her, although it could not be denied that she favored the youngattaché Debray. 

The lawyers were already there, yet the ceremony appeared to bepurposely delayed, as if they were waiting for the arrival of a missingguest. And this was indeed the case. 

When the footman announced the Count of Monte-Cristo a stir was createdamong the guests. The star of the evening was overwhelmed withquestions, which he paid no attention to, but quietly busied himselfwith the three representatives of the Danglars family. 

The way he observed the young Count Cavalcanti was very strange, thoughvery few noticed it, as the Count of Monte-Cristo was relating a robberywhich had been committed in his house, in which one of the thieves hadbeen murdered, most probably by his own comrade. No one noticed thepallor of Count Cavalcanti, as they were too much interested inMonte-Cristo's story. When he had finished, the ceremony was proceededwith. 

The marriage contract between Mademoiselle Eugenie and Count AndreaCavalcanti was read, the millions mentioned therein causing a sensationeven among the cream of the financial and aristocratic world, and thesigning of the paper was next in order. This circumstance recalled toMadame Danglars the absence of a friend of the house, the procureur duroi Villefort, and she asked Monte-Cristo whether he knew where he was. 

"I am indirectly the cause of the absence of the procureur du roi, " saidthe count, as if to apologize. "The man who was murdered in my house wasrecognized as a former galley-slave named Caderousse, and a letter wasfound in his pocket which bore a remarkable address. "

Every one crowded around the count, while the young bridegroom slowlywalked toward a neighboring room. 

"Could you tell us the address?" asked Madame Danglars. 

"Certainly, " replied the count. "You will all laugh over it. It was noneother than that of the hero of our reunion to-night--Count AndreaCavalcanti. "

The surprised guests turned around as if to exact an explanation fromthe latter. He had, however, already left the room. The servants weresearching all over the house for him, when a new commotion was heard. 

The dazed servants returned from their search, and behind them appeareda detective accompanied by several policemen. 

"I am looking for a man named Andrea Cavalcanti, " said the detective, in the well-known monotonous way which never fails to make an impressioneven upon those who are not principals. 

"By what right?" asked Danglars, who could not suppress his uneasiness. 

"Andrea Cavalcanti is charged with having murdered the galley-slaveCaderousse, with whom he was formerly chained in the galleys. "

Like lightning from a clear sky this announcement fell upon thearistocratic assembly. Madame Danglars fainted, the policemen searchedthe house, but could not find the culprit, the guests ran here and therelike a flock of sheep surprised by a fox, the servants stood motionlesswith dazed faces, consternation and confusion reigned supreme. 

CHAPTER II

A CALM BRIDE

No one among all the company in Danglars' house possessed theirself-possession so much as just the one who was the least expected to doso. 

Two days after the catastrophe, when Eugenie's most intimate friend, themusic teacher, Louise d'Armilly, came to condole with her, the prouddaughter of the banker repulsed her with a disdainful laugh. 

"I am not made for marriage, " she said; "at first I was engaged toMonsieur de Morcerf, whose father shot himself a few days ago, in a fitof remorse at having acquired his wealth by dishonorable means; then Iwas to be married to Prince Cavalcanti, to add to the millions which myfather possesses, or which he perhaps does not call his own, theimaginary wealth of a--jail-bird. "

"What should be done now?" asked her modest friend in an anxious tone. 

"Fate shows my path, " answered Eugenie, firmly. "I am not intended tobecome the slave of a hypocritical and egotistical man. You are awarethat my inclination pushes me toward the stage, where my voice, mybeauty, and my independent spirit will assure me success. The time hasnow arrived when I must decide: here, the scandal and contempt of thecrowd; there, applause, fame, and honor. I foresaw it all, though I didnot think it would come in such a shameful way. I have fifty thousandfrancs pin-money, and my jewels are worth as much more. Order acarriage; I have passports for both of us; in an hour we depart forBelgium. "

Louise listened to her friend speechless with astonishment; although sheknew the firmness of her character, she was not prepared for so muchindependence. 

"But we two girls alone, " she hesitatingly said, "cannot--"

"I have looked out for that, too, " replied Eugenie, calmly; "thepassport 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 myselfinto Monsieur Leon d'Armilly. "

Louise mechanically left the room to order the carriage to come toDanglars' house. When she came back an elegant young man stood near thetrunks, whom no one would have recognized at the first glance as theproud and courted beauty, Eugenie Danglars. With great difficulty thetwo girls carried the trunk through a side door of the house anddeposited it at the next street corner. There the coachman awaited them, and in a quarter of an hour they had left Paris. 

Let us now return to Prince Cavalcanti, _alias_ Benedetto, the hero ofthe interrupted party at the banker Danglars' house. 

With that cunning peculiar to criminals who scent danger from afar, hehad made his exit at the right time. After he had pocketed the diamondswhich formed a part of Eugenie's _trousseau_, and which were exposed inthe parlor, he scaled the window, slipped an overcoat over his dress, and made his way out of the house. In thirty minutes he reached anout-of-the-way suburb of Paris. Without losing a minute of his precioustime, he took a carriage, and left the city under the pretence of havingto 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 ofan hour Benedetto found himself at Loures, where he discharged hisdriver, saying that he would spend the night there. 

Benedetto now formed a decisive plan. He did not remain in Loures, butwent on foot to Chapelle-en-Serval, a mile distant, where he arrivedcovered with dirt and dust, and entered the nearest inn, telling thehost that he had fallen from his horse. "If you could get me a coach ora horse, so that I could return to Compiegne, I would be very gratefulto you. "

The host really had a horse at his disposal, and in a quarter of an hourBenedetto, accompanied by the host's son, was on the road to Compiegne, which he reached about midnight. After he had discharged the boy at themarket-place of the little city, he went to the inn called the Bell andBottle, which he had patronized in former times, and to which he wasadmitted now. 

After Benedetto had eaten a hearty supper, he inquired if he could get aroom on the ground floor, but was forced to accept one on the firststory, as the other had been taken by a young man who had just arrivedwith his sister. 

The hunted culprit was so tired out by his exertions that he fell intoa deep sleep, and did not wake up early next morning, as he hadintended, but at nine o'clock. Struck by an indescribable fear, hequickly dressed himself and peered through the window blinds. Herecoiled in terror, for his first glance had fallen upon two policemenwho leaned against the doors with their guns in their hands. His firstthoughts were that he was followed and was lost. He quickly collectedhimself, suppressed his excitement, and seizing a piece of paper, scribbled these words on it with a lead pencil:

"I have no money, but do not desire to owe anything. The incloseddiamond pin will fully pay for my bill. I was ashamed to acknowledgethis, and therefore left at five o'clock. "

After he had attached the pin to the paper, he opened the door andcrawled up the chimney with the agility of a chimney-sweep. Here, however, the difficulty was to continue his way without being perceivedby any one. He therefore returned and entered another chimney, intendingto wait there until all danger was over. He already began to thinkhimself saved, when he lost his balance and crashed with a loud noisethrough the opening and into a room which was occupied, as was betrayedby a sudden scream. 

A young man and a lady were in the room. The latter had uttered the cry, while the former pulled vigorously at the bell-rope. 

"Rescue me--hide me!" were the first words the villain spoke. He wasabout to say more, but the words stuck in his throat, for he hadrecognized the young man as Eugenie Danglars. 

"Andrea, the murderer!" exclaimed the two women. 

"Have mercy! rescue me!" implored Benedetto. 

"It is too late, " replied Eugenie, "the door is being opened. "

At the same moment, the policemen, followed by the whole inn staff, entered the room. Benedetto saw he was lost. He pulled out a dagger, asif he wished to attack his captors, but desisted when he saw it would befruitless. 

"Kill yourself!" exclaimed Eugenie, with the accent of a tragedy queen. 

"Bah!" replied Benedetto, "it is too early yet; the whole thing is amisunderstanding, and I have friends. "

With great coolness he held out his hands to the policemen, who puthandcuffs on them. 

"Give my regards to your father, Mademoiselle Danglars, and do not beashamed. You are my bride, and we ought to have been man and wifeto-day, " said Benedetto, sarcastically, as he left the room with thepolicemen, leaving Eugenie exposed to the curious and contemptuousglances of the waiters. 

CHAPTER III

A FAMILY TRAGEDY

The procureur du roi, Villefort, was one of the most respected andinfluential men in Paris, and his reputation as district-attorney wasspotless. 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 beenstricken with paralysis, which had not only robbed him of the use of hislimbs, but of his speech too. The old man could only make himselfunderstood by his beloved grandchild Valentine, and by a faithfulservant named Barrois, by the rising and falling of his eyelids. 

In the house of this immensely respected man, certain things hadhappened within a few months which attracted general attention, thoughno one could explain them. The parents of the deceased Madame deVillefort, who had been staying at their son-in-law's house on a visit, had died suddenly one after the other, the doctors being unable toassign any other cause for their deaths than apoplexy. These facts wouldnot have caused any talk, since the two persons who had died were bothvery old, had they not been followed almost immediately by the deaths ofthe old servant of Monsieur Noirtier and of Valentine, the bloomingdaughter of the procureur du roi, and the bride of a young officer namedMorrel, under circumstances which looked very much like poisoning. 

It was a terrible time for Monsieur de Villefort, who saw himselfobliged, in his official capacity, to investigate his own household. After long observation, he had a terrible suspicion, which was confirmedby a hundred little things, that his own wife was the four-timesmurderess!

The reasons which actuated her to commit these terrible crimes were veryclear. Valentine, the step-daughter, possessed a large fortune which shehad inherited from her dead mother; she was the sole heiress of thegrandparents who had died so suddenly; upon the death of Valentine allher wealth would revert to Monsieur de Villefort, and his sole heirwould be his son. 

Villefort, the husband, struggled terribly with Villefort, thedistrict-attorney; he tried to ward off the guilt from his wife, but hisefforts were fruitless. It was the same day on which the sensationalcase of Prince Cavalcanti, _alias_ Benedetto, was before the Court ofSpecial Sessions, and Monsieur de Villefort was forced to attend thesitting in his official capacity as district-attorney. Before he went hesent for his wife, who wished to attend the trial of a case which causedgreat excitement all over Paris. 

Madame de Villefort came to his room fully dressed for the street, being under the impression that her husband would ask her to accompanyhim to the court-house. She trembled, however, when she noticed hisface, which was torn by conflicting passions. 

"Where do you get the poison from, madame, which you are in the habit ofusing?" asked the procureur du roi, in a tone of command. 

Madame de Villefort turned deathly pale. 

"I do not understand what you mean, " she stammered. 

"I mean, " said the man of the law, "where do you keep the poison withwhich you murdered my parents-in-law, Barrois, and my daughter, Valentine?"

Stunned by this terrible charge Madame de Villefort fell to the floor;she no longer dared to deny the accusation, and was oppressed by afeeling of deep despair. 

"Every crime, madame, " continued the procureur du roi, "has its penalty;yours will be the scaffold. This expiation, however, would be asterrible for me as for you. Fate has left you to pay for your deeds byyour 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 amgoing to the court-house, and I hope that when I return you will haveexpiated your crimes. "

With a cry, the unhappy woman became unconscious, while Monsieur deVillefort, hardly able to collect his thoughts, left the room and rodeto attend the Cavalcanti-Benedetto case. 

CHAPTER IV

A PECULIAR TRIAL

All Paris was excited over the case of the handsome Andrea Cavalcanti, who was to descend from the heights of society into the depths of thecriminal world. The lion of the day was to change himself into a commonconvict. 

Large sums of money were paid for seats in the court-house, and longbefore the proceedings began every seat in the room was occupied byrepresentatives of the most aristocratic families. 

After the usual preliminaries, the judge, the jury, and thedistrict-attorney took their places. Upon an order from the judge thepolicemen brought in the prisoner. Instead of a man borne down by shame, Cavalcanti showed himself to the crowd dressed in a ball suit, his facebeaming with good humor. 

The complaint was read without making the slightest impression upon theprisoner, who sat on his seat with the same ease and grace as he did, but a few days before, in the famous restaurant The Golden House. 

"Prisoner, " said the judge, "stand up and answer the questions I shallput to you. What is your full name?"

"I am very sorry, " replied Andrea, without the slightest embarrassment, "that I am unable to answer the question just now; you can continue, however, and later on I will take an opportunity to give you informationabout the matter. "

The people were dazed at the audacity of the prisoner. 

"How old are you?" continued the judge. 

"I was born on the night between the 27th and the 28th of September, 1807, at Auteuil, near Paris. "

"What is your business?"

"I never bothered about the usual trades of the general run of people. Iwas first a counterfeiter, then a thief, and afterward committed myfirst murder. "

A storm of anger ran through the assembly, even the judge and the jurycould not suppress their loathing at the unheard of cynicism of theprisoner. 

"Are you going to give your name now?" asked the judge. 

"I am not able to give you my own name, but I know that of my father. "

"Name it, then. "

"My father is a district-attorney, " continued the prisoner with greatcalmness, glancing at Monsieur de Villefort, who turned deathly pale. 

"District-attorney?" exclaimed the judge, greatly astonished. "And hisname is?"

"His name is Monsieur de Villefort, and he is sitting in front of you. "

"You are fooling with the court, " said the judge angrily. "I warn youfor the last time and command you to tell the truth. "

"I am speaking the truth, " replied the prisoner, "and can prove it. Listen, and then judge. I was born on the first floor of the house No. 28 Rue de la Fontaine, at Auteuil, on the night of the 27th to the 28thof September, 1807. My father, Monsieur de Villefort, told my mother Iwas dead, wrapped me in a napkin marked H. 15, put me in a small box andburied me alive in the garden of the house. At the same moment hereceived a thrust in the side with a knife held by a person who wasconcealed, and he sank to the ground unconscious. The man who attackedmy father dug out the box which had been buried, and which he supposedcontained money, and thereby saved my life. He brought me to thefoundling asylum, where I was inscribed as No. 37. Three months later Iwas taken from the asylum by the sister-in-law of the man, who was aCorsican, and brought me to Corsica, where I was brought up, and inspite of the care of my foster-parents acquired vices which steeped mein crime. "

"And who was your mother?" asked the judge. 

"My mother thought I was dead; I am a child of sin; I do not know mymother and do not wish to know her. "

A cry rang through the court-room at this point; a lady had fainted, andwas carried out of the hall by several bystanders. 

At this cry the procureur du roi arose, and showed his ghastly face tothe crowd. 

"How are you going to prove these astounding revelations?" asked thejudge of the prisoner. 

With a malicious look the latter pointed to Monsieur de Villefort. 

"Father, they wish to have proofs; do you also want me to give them?"

"No, it is unnecessary; everything you have said is true. I resign myoffice, and desire the court to appoint my successor as procureur duroi, " said Monsieur de Villefort, in a faint voice. 

"What!" exclaimed the judge, "you, a man whose character is abovesuspicion, allow yourself to be intimidated by the crazy declarations ofa criminal! Collect yourself, and crush the malicious accusations with aword. "

Villefort shook his head. With trembling limbs he left the court-room abroken-down man. The crowd respectfully made way for him, the extent ofhis misfortune making a deep impression upon all hearts. 

"The court is adjourned until further notice, " said the judge. "Policemen, take your prisoner back to jail. "

CHAPTER V

THE RESULT OF THE CATASTROPHE

On the 14th day of January, 1830, three months after the incidentsrelated in the last chapter, Benedetto's trial was again before theCourt of Special Sessions. Then, as now, life beat rapidly in Paris, oneimportant thing followed the other, and it came about that the affair ofthe handsome "Prince Cavalcanti" was in danger of being tried before anaudience consisting only of lawyers and policemen. 

The weather was miserable. The snow fell in thick flakes, and the coldwas so penetrating that it became impossible to remain long out ofdoors. 

It was about eleven o'clock in the morning when an elegant carriagestopped in front of the court-house. A gentleman stepped out, and wasabout to ascend the broad steps of the building, when he suddenly stoodstill. He clapped his monocle to his eye, and loudly exclaimed:

"Ah, Chateau-Renaud!"

"Beauchamp, " came back the answer; and the two friends cordially shookhands. 

"Really, " said Chateau-Renaud, laughing, "I must be grateful to chance, which threw me in your way. "

"What brings you here?"

"The trial of his highness Prince Benedetto de Cavalcanti, of course. "

"I'm here for the same reason. I also wish to see the concluding act ofthe drama which has interested Paris so long. Do you think the poordevil has a chance of escaping the hangman's noose?"

"Hardly--but here we are. Why, the hall is about empty, " exclaimedBeauchamp, wonderingly. 

"Does that astonish you? Paris has always been ungrateful, and has longsince forgotten that the Benedetto affair was once an important topic, "replied Chateau-Renaud in a tone of indifference. 

"Perhaps the trial has been postponed, " said the journalist, and turningto a reporter of his acquaintance, he hurriedly asked: "Does Benedetto'strial take place to-day?"

"Benedetto's trial, " answered the reporter, musingly: "ah, yes, now Iknow--the murder in Monte-Cristo's garden, and, if my memory is right, Ibelieve the murderer pretends that he is the son of the procureur duroi, Monsieur de Villefort. "

"Perfectly right; you have an enviable memory, " laughingly saidBeauchamp. "Well, does the trial take place?"

"Certainly, it's the third day of the case. "

"Thank you. We can get some refreshments now and pass the time until theBenedetto case comes up, " said Chateau-Renaud. 

"If you desire to attend the trial, I will inform you when it's time, "said the reporter, politely. 

"You are very kind, " answered Beauchamp, as he departed with his friend. 

As they were leaving the corridor, Beauchamp nudged his companionlightly. 

"Every one is not so ungrateful as to forget Benedetto. Debray is heretoo. "

"Why not?" said Chateau-Renaud. "Debray has plenty of time to himselfsince the Ministry was overturned and carried a poor _attaché_ alongwith it in its fall. "

"Well, he rescued his millions anyway, " replied Beauchamp, indifferently, "Though, come to think of it, " he continued maliciously, "it is quite natural for Debray to interest himself in Benedetto--thelatter was half and half his son-in-law. "

"Oh, Beauchamp, you are cynical; the relationship reminds one of amorganatic marriage, " Chateau-Renaud laughingly interposed. 

"By the way, has anything new been found out about the BaronessDanglars?"

"H'm--they say she has disappeared. "

"And her good, honest husband?"

"Is knocking about somewhere. God only knows. "

"Well, I must say there is nothing like Parisian life. The house ofDanglars breaks. Father and mother Danglars disappear, in consequence ofwhich Debray is without his flame; and the daughter--is anything knownof her? To my taste, she was the best of the lot. "

"Mademoiselle d'Armilly undoubtedly knows where she is--they wereinseparable companions. They will come to the surface again; from what Iknow of Mademoiselle Danglars, she has about as much talent for singingas a lioness. "

"A beautiful constellation. What became of Monsieur de Villefort?"

"He is an incurable maniac, and is in Dr. D'Avigny's private asylum. "

"Not a bad business for the old gentleman. The house of Villefort hashad a terrible end. Madame de Villefort and her son are dead, and poorValentine--I am not generally sentimental, but I confess the death ofthe young girl was a terrible shock to me. "

"Beauchamp, do you believe in miracles?" asked Chateau-Renaud, suddenly. 

"That depends. Why do you ask?"

"Well, one of my friends gave me his word of honor that he sawMademoiselle Valentine in Marseilles. "

"Before or after the funeral?"

"After, certainly. "

"That seems rather wonderful, but one is already accustomed to look uponeverything with which the Count of Monte-Cristo has any connection assomething miraculous. "

"Have you heard the fable that the count was a vampire?"

"Who could have said such a thing? What is old Noirtier doing?"

"He has gone to the South; and the Morcerf family--"

"Well, what of them?"

"Nothing new. The father a suicide, the son in Africa, and the motherhas disappeared. "

"Just like Baroness Danglars. "

"Yes, only with this difference, that Madame de Morcerf and her son gavetheir whole fortune to the poor. "

"I am glad for the poor--I--"

"The Benedetto affair is now on, " broke in the voice of the reporter, interrupting their conversation. 

"Ah--thank you. " And with this they all entered the court-room. 

"Beauchamp, " whispered Chateau-Renaud, pointing to a veiled lady who satnear them, "if I wasn't sure that the Baroness Dangl--"

"Hush! Do not mention any names. I think you are right, but I cannotunderstand why she comes in such disreputable company. "

The lady spoken about, heavily veiled, held her head on her hand andawaited the beginning of the case. Her companion, a thin, yellow, dried-up old man, whose bald head in form and color recalled a ripemelon, sat as straight as a stick, and kept his eyes on the crucifixopposite him. 

"Bring in the prisoner, " ordered the judge. 

A shudder ran through the lady, but she did not look up as Benedettoentered. 

CHAPTER VI

BENEDETTO, THE MURDERER

In the meantime the room had become almost filled, as a death sentencewould probably be given. Almost half the spectators were ladies. Amurmur of curiosity ran about the room, and many who were presentremembered the moment in the former sitting when the prisoner, with theair of a stage hero, let fall the weighty words: "My father is the royaldistrict-attorney, Monsieur Villefort. " Unconsciously all eyes wereturned to the ministerial box, as if hoping to encounter the pale, confused face of the all-powerful judge, who had himself been judged, but only the substitute of the procureur was seen. 

Benedetto now entered. Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud could hardlyrestrain their astonishment, for very seldom has a man changed so muchin three months. When they had seen Cavalcanti Benedetto last, he wasthe type of a parlor hero, and fascinated every one by his pleasingappearance; but the man who stood now before the judge was another--abroken-down man. 

His curly hair had been shaved close to the skin, his eyes, which hadformerly sparkled with life, were now dim. The small, finely formedhands were meekly crossed over the breast, and even the prisoner'sclothes harmonized with his general appearance. 

A policeman gruffly showed him to his seat. Benedetto bowed deeply, andsat on the edge of the hard wooden bench. 

The prisoner's lawyer, a celebrated advocate, bent down and whispered afew encouraging words to him. Benedetto listened attentively to them andmurmured half aloud:

"May God have mercy on me. "

"And the devil, too, " whispered Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud. "Benedettohas become a howling coward. It's a great pity!"

The judge beckoned to the actuary and ordered him to read theindictment. It was short and compact; it recited the murder ofCaderousse, the robbery in the Count of Monte-Cristo's house, therevelations made by the prisoner with regard to M. De Villefort, thelatter's confession, his insanity, and finally the suicide of his wife. 

"Prisoner, stand up!" said the judge, in a soft voice, "and tell me yourname. "

"Benedetto, " replied the former bandit in a modest, almost frightenedvoice. 

"Are you guilty of the murder of Caderousse?"

"Judge, " stammered Benedetto, "I must acknowledge my guilt. " And buryinghis face in his hands, he tried to suppress his sobs. 

"What kind of a comedy is the rascal playing?" grumbled Beauchamp. 

"Hush!" replied Chateau-Renaud, "the proceedings are becominginteresting. "

Benedetto answered all questions put to him without hesitation. 

"I know, " he said, "I am a great sinner, and bow to the justice of thepeople, as I do to the justice of God. "

The duty of the jury was thus rendered easy, the murder wasacknowledged, the antecedents of the prisoner were very bad, and thecounterfeiter and murderer was as good as convicted at this stage of theproceedings. 

"Call the witnesses, " said the judge. 

"Count of Monte-Cristo, " cried the clerk. 

No one answered. 

"It is singular, " said the judge, "that Monsieur de Monte-Cristo" (hepurposely left out the title of count), "who is interested in thistrial, has refused to obey the order of the court. Has he received asubpoena?"

The assistant district-attorney looked over his papers. 

"The gentleman named, " he said, with a malicious twirl of his lips, "hassold his property in France and has disappeared, no one knows where. "

"Call the other witnesses, " said the judge; "we shall attend to Monsieurde Monte-Cristo's case later on. "

The other witnesses, mainly people who had come to Caderousse'sassistance when he had called for help, were not slow in coming forward. Their testimony was short and precise. They confirmed the fact ofCaderousse's being found with a knife in his heart. 

"Have you anything to say, prisoner?" asked the judge. 

"No, sir, these honest people unfortunately tell the truth, " saidBenedetto, meekly. 

A murmur of applause ran round the room. When all was calm again theclerk exclaimed:

"Monsieur Noirtier de Villefort!"

"What!" exclaimed Beauchamp, springing up, as if electrified, "are theygoing to be so cruel as to make this unfortunate man testify again?"

"Gentlemen of the jury, " said the judge, as if in answer to Beauchamp'squestion, "we have thought it necessary to call Monsieur de Villefort, although in the present state of his health there is little chance ofhis being able to clear up those points which are still obscure. "

Deep silence reigned--the door was opened, and Monsieur de Villefortappeared on the threshold. 

CHAPTER VII

A MIRACLE

The Count of Monte-Cristo had indeed left Paris shortly after the firstsitting of the Benedetto case had been so strangely interrupted. In hiscompany was the young officer, Maximilian Morrel, who was so shocked atthe death of his beloved Valentine as not to be any longer recognizableas the gay young officer who, with Chateau-Renaud, Beauchamp and Debrayformed the leading cavaliers of the capital. A sympathy, which he couldnot account for himself, brought Morrel into a bond of friendship withthe Count of Monte-Cristo, and he told him of his love for Valentine deVillefort and his grief at the sudden death of his idol. 

But even Monte-Cristo's consolations brought no relief to the young man, and he resolved to put an end to his life, so as to be joined at leastin death with his cherished darling. 

He had already written the letter, the weapon lay on his table, when hewas disturbed by an unwelcome visit from the Count of Monte-Cristo. 

"What were you going to do, Maximilian?" asked Monte-Cristo, sternly. 

"The one thing which is left to an unfortunate who has been robbed ofthe one most dear to him on earth, " the young man replied, in a tone ofresignation. 

"I understand you; he who has known Valentine as I have could readilyexcuse the abominable step you were about to take. "

"And do you not approve of it?" asked the young man, in a tone ofastonishment. 

"That depends on circumstances; these circumstances are, however, notyet 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 thissuicide as a crime against yourself and all those dear to you, then Iwill give you a powder which will put an end to your life withoutleaving such ugly traces as that pistol on your desk. "

"If you can wake the dead, then you can help me. But this miraculouspower I do not believe even you have. Nevertheless, I have never refusedyou a favor, and accede to your request, on condition that you promisenot to make any new attempts to prevent me from carrying out my design. "

"Accepted, " said the count, as he stretched out his hand affectionatelytoward the young man, who grasped it without hesitation. 

"To-day a month, " he continued, "I shall await you on the island ofMonte-Cristo. "

With these words Monte-Cristo left his friend. 

Maximilian remained true to his word. Five days before the expiration ofthe fateful month he went from Paris to Marseilles and embarked fromthere on one of the yachts belonging to the count for the little islandof Monte-Cristo, which he reached on the appointed day. Ali, the blackservant of the count, met him on the wharf and conducted him to thecount's apartments. 

"Here I am, count, to receive the powder from your hands which willrealize my hope to meet Valentine in another world. "

"Nothing can induce you to give up your design then?" askedMonte-Cristo. 

"Nothing, not even you, " answered Morrel, firmly. 

"Well, then, let it be so, " said Monte-Cristo sternly, as he took agreenish, strongly smelling pastil from a box cut from an opal. 

"It is hashish. Death is painless and recalls to the person taking itthe most beautiful memories of his life. "

Maximilian embraced his friend and swallowed the pastil. 

The effect was wonderful. A delightful languor took possession ofMaximilian. All the scenes of his childhood came back to him, only theform of his darling was missing. Suddenly the back part of the roomappeared to open and a female form strode toward him with armsoutstretched; it was the purified form of his beloved. 

"Oh, how sweet is such a death, " whispered Maximilian. 

The figure strode nearer to him, embraced him and kissed his burningforehead. 

"My poor lover, " murmured a well-known voice. 

"Valentine, " exclaimed Maximilian, "Valentine, is it possible! I am notdreaming, you are alive! I clasp you in my arms, only to die myself!"

"I am alive, my dear friend, and bring you new life; it is no dream, weare at the realization of our hopes, we are united on earth forever. "

Gradually Maximilian became conscious. He lay in the arms of hisbeloved Valentine and his faithful friend Monte-Cristo stood near him. 

"Valentine and Maximilian, " said the count solemnly, "my dear friends, from now on nothing shall separate you; I give you life back again, Inow join your hands in the bonds which nothing can separate but thegrave! May God bless you both as I do. "

Overpowered with emotion the newly united couple sank at the feet ofthis curious man to thank him from the depths of their hearts. Monte-Cristo lifted Valentine tenderly from the ground and turning toher said:

"I shall leave you alone now, and go back to my apartments, where mywife, the Countess of Monte-Cristo, awaits me. "

As soon as the count had gone the two lovers embraced each other again. Then the young man led the young girl to a divan, and asked her to tellhim the wonderful story of her rescue and her return from the grave. 

"I was, " related Valentine, "as you know, very ill; but yet I hoped tobecome convalescent again! One night, as I lay on my bed of sickness, adoor which I had never before perceived was opened. A man entered andapproached my bed; I was just about to scream when I perceived that thespectre was none other than the Count of Monte-Cristo, who made signs tome to keep silent. He sat beside me and told me I was being graduallypoisoned by my step-mother, and that she had already poisoned mygrandparents Barrois in the same manner. He had himself given me anantidote. But the means he had were not sufficient to shield me fromall danger, and he begged me to drink a potion, which would put me in atrance for the space of three days. I took the potion which the countgave me; I lost my senses. How long I lay thus I do not know, but when Iwoke I found myself in a coffin in a church, and the count standingbeside me. A new and powerful potion restored me to my former vitality. The count brought me to his house, where I found everything necessary toa journey. After I had rested for a few days, I rode to Marseilles withthe count, and from there to this lonely island, where I have found you, my dear Maximilian. "

A new embrace ended this conversation, and they both left the apartmentto go in search of the count, to thank him again for his trouble. 

They went to the grotto and asked Jacopo, who had brought Maximilian tothe island, where the count was. 

"I have a letter for both of you from my master. "

"Where is the Count of Monte-Cristo?" they both asked simultaneously. 

"He has just left the island with his wife and his servant, Ali. You canstill see the ship over there, " replied Jacopo, pointing to a small boaton which could be described three persons. It was the count, Haydee, andAli. Maximilian quickly opened the letter, which read as follows:

 "MY DEAR MAXIMILIAN--A ship is lying at anchor for you. Jacopo will bring you to Livorno, where Monsieur Noirtier awaits his grandchild, whom he wishes to bless before you lead her to the altar. Everything you find in this grotto and my house in Paris are the wedding presents of a faithful friend, whom you will never see again. My last words are: Waiting and hoping. May you both live happy and think now and then of your devoted friend, "EDMOND DANTES, Count of Monte-Cristo. "

Meanwhile the count's vessel departed further and further from theisland; a fresh breeze filled the sail and it disappeared from view. Valentine and Maximilian waved a cordial farewell to the travellers withtheir hands. Then the ship vanished from the horizon. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE SENTENCE OF DEATH

Monsieur de Villefort was not alone--Dr. D'Avigny accompanied hispatient, and whispered a word in his ear now and then. 

Villefort was only a ruin now. His hanging lower lip and glassy eyesimpressed the spectators and the bench sadly, and even those who wereaccustomed to be attacked by him in the days of his power as adistrict-attorney now only felt pity for the man who had fallen so low. 

The judge was moved when he arose and delivered the following address tothe jury:

"Gentlemen of the jury! Dr. D'Avigny, who pays the greatest care toMonsieur de Villefort, was so kind as to accompany his patient to-day. Before I subpoenaed Monsieur de Villefort I inquired of his physicianwhether he could attend court without injury to himself. Doctor, willyou confirm this statement to the gentlemen of the jury?"

"Certainly, judge, " said the old physician, deeply moved. "Monsieur deVillefort's condition is hopeless, and would not be changed in any wayby his appearing in court--the apathy of my patient is beyonddescription. "

Thereupon Dr. D'Avigny turned to his patient and led him to a chair. Deep silence reigned throughout the room. The veiled lady looked keenlyat the man, before whose gaze criminals were wont to tremble, and whohad now sunk lower than the wretched beings he had formerly prosecuted. 

Benedetto, in great excitement, had outstretched his arms towardMonsieur de Villefort, and almost immediately after fell back again inhis seat crushed and annihilated. 

"Monsieur de Villefort, " said the judge, "tell us--" He proceeded nofurther. Villefort tried to rise, and made strenuous efforts to stammerforth some words. The judge waited a short while and then continued:

"Monsieur de Villefort, are you able to answer a few questions I shalladdress to you?"

Villefort nodded and stammered with some difficulty: "Yes. "

"Benedetto, " said the judge, turning toward the prisoner, "stand up. "

Benedetto obeyed the order. 

"Look at Monsieur de Villefort, " continued the judge, "and tell me, uponyour conscience, whether you uphold the accusations made by you at aformer trial of this case. "

Benedetto was either, as pious souls say, "touched by compassion, " orelse the most accomplished hypocrite in existence. He clasped both handsto his face and murmured in a voice choked with tears:

"Pardon, father--pardon!"

"What does the man want of me?" asked Monsieur de Villefort, who wasgradually recovering his voice, and to the astonishment of thespectators was soon in possession of his speech. 

"He calls you father, " replied the judge, "you yourself haveacknowledged him as your son. "

Villefort put his hand to his forehead. 

"My son? And he is alive? It is impossible--my children were killed inmy house--my son is dead. "

"Have you forgotten the night of the 27th and 28th of September, 1807?"

"No, I have forgotten nothing--that son I killed too. "

"Yes, but he escaped death by a miracle, don't you know!"

"Ah, yes, I remember; it was no miracle; he owes his life to an attemptat assassination, and the murderer thought he was lifting up a treasurewhen he picked up the box containing the child. "

"Then you acknowledge your son?"

Villefort laughed maliciously. 

"Yes, certainly he is my son. How would he have been a counterfeiter andmurderer otherwise? Oh, it is all right--the house in Auteuil, thenapkin marked H; Villefort's son must become a murderer. "

He stretched out his lean hand toward Benedetto and hissed ironically:

"You are my son. You have murdered already and will murder again. "

"No, no, " gasped Benedetto; "I have sinned terribly, but nothing onearth could make me increase my crimes! Father, I forgive you, and mayGod have mercy on both our souls. "

A murmur of emotion ran through the room, and Benedetto, encouraged, continued in a sobbing voice:

"And you, too, my mother, whom I have never known, I forgive. If Icould only have stammered your name and danced on your knee, I wouldnever have become a criminal. "

Deep sobbing was heard in the room and the veiled lady sank halfunconscious in her seat. Her companion busied himself with her, and assoon as she had regained consciousness he whispered in her ear:

"Prudence--or all is lost. "

"Monsieur de Villefort, " said the judge solemnly, "you are discharged!Whatever your faults have been God has made you pay dear for them. "

D'Avigny laid his hand on Villefort's arm and wished to take his patientwith him, but the former district-attorney shook his head vigorously andsaid, rather sharply:

"I do not wish to go yet, I have something to say. "

"Speak then, we are listening, " said the judge, surprised. 

"Judge and gentlemen of the jury, " Villefort solemnly began, "you haveheard the contrite words of the man who is unfortunately my son. Do notbelieve him--he lies!"

"Monsieur de Villefort, " exclaimed the judge, warningly. 

"Oh, let me finish, " continued the ex-procureur du roi; "I am supposedto be insane, yet I see things clearer than a great many whose reason isunclouded! You believe I would have committed a sin had I killedhim--you are wrong, it would have been the only good action of my lifeif I had freed the world of such a rascal and monster. Benedettoneither regrets nor forgives. I, his father, ought to know him. He isplaying a well-studied part. Gentlemen of the jury, be careful! Theresponsibility which weighs on you is great. When a tiger escapes fromhis cage, he is shot down. Take the sword of justice and let it fall onhis neck--I, the father of this man, move that he be condemned todeath!"

A murmur of affright ran through the room; people forgot that a maniacstood before them, and only saw the district-attorney, who, like asecond Brutus, delivered over his own son to the law. Like the judgmentday the words rang through the room, "I move that he be condemned todeath. " As soon as the echo of the words died away, Villefort arose, andleaning on D'Avigny's arm, he bowed to the judge and slowly left thecourt-room. 

"Upon my word, " whispered Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud, "Villefort isinsane. "

"Did you notice that Madame Danglars was struggling with a faintingfit?" asked Chateau-Renaud. 

"Ah, bah! Benedetto is a handsome youth, and Madame Danglars is not amodel of virtue; who knows what relations they have had with eachother?"

"Perhaps Debray might know more, he--"

"Hush! the procureur du roi is speaking. I'll wager that his speech willbe less shrewd than that of the maniac. "

The procureur du roi arose amid the hushed silence of the court-room, and began to speak, throwing all the blame on Monsieur de Villefortrather than on Benedetto. 

"Let us not be carried away by pity, " he said, "for these unscrupulousmen, who soil their judicial ermine in the lowest passions of mankind, and thereby endanger the lives and sacrifice the honor of their wivesand children. "

After the prisoner's counsel had summed up eloquently for his client andthe judge had charged the jury, the latter went out, but returned in ashort time. 

"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon a verdict?" asked thejudge. 

There was intense excitement in the court-room, the spectators literallyholding their breath. 

"Yes, " answered the foreman; "we find the prisoner guilty, withextenuating circumstances. "

The spectators clapped their hands. 

"Prisoner, have you anything to say?" asked the judge. 

"No, " replied Benedetto, in a calm, dignified manner. 

"The sentence of the court is, that you be sent to the galleys forlife. "

No sooner had the sentence been pronounced than the man who hadaccompanied Madame Danglars glided toward the bar where Benedetto stood, and whispered something in his ear. 

"We have kept our word, have we not?"

"Yes; but the galleys?"

"We have saved your head. More we cannot do at present. Have patience. "

The court officials coming up to take the prisoner interrupted theconversation. Benedetto was placed in a coach and driven to Bicetre. Hewas placed in a filthy jail, and then left to himself. He had not beenlong there when he felt a hand touch him and a voice whisper close tohis ear. 

"You are in luck, comrade, " said the unknown. "Some rich lady isinterested in you. You don't remember me, perhaps. 'Twas I who broughtyou that note two months ago. I got two gold pieces for doing so. "

"Who was the lady, and how did you get here?"

"I don't know who she is, but she appears to be over forty. As for me, Iam a priest, and committed wrong--"

At this moment the door was opened, and a voice called:

"Benedetto! Benedetto!"

Benedetto arose, and peering through the grated cell-door saw a woman. 

"What do you want?" he gruffly asked. 

"I am your mother. "

"My mother?"

"Yes. "

"I have one favor to ask of you. "

"I am willing to do anything for you. "

"Are you going to stay in Paris?"

"No, I shall leave France on the 26th of February. "

"And you sail from Marseilles?"

"Yes. "

"Then you will be near Toulon. I know that you do not wish me to seeyour face or learn your secret. But if you have any love for me, comeand see me there. "

The poor woman yearned to embrace her son, whose hypocritical wordsawoke the dormant love in her bosom. 

"I promise to see you before I sail on the 26th. "

"Come to Toulon, then, on the 24th. And, by the way, here is a letterfrom one of my comrades to whom I am under deep obligations. On yourway home drop it into the letter-box. "

She could not decline to do him this service. Her usual caution desertedher, and as she slipped the note in her bosom the light fell full on herface. 

Benedetto recognized her at once as Madame Danglars, the wife of BaronDanglars, and the mother of the girl he was to have married. He couldhardly restrain a cry of rage and astonishment. 

"Good-by, " he said. "Do not forget the 24th. "

CHAPTER IX

THE EDITORIAL ROOMS

"Well, my dear Chateau-Renaud, is there anything new?" asked Beauchampof his friend, who had paid him a visit to his office. 

"Bah--not much! It's the same old story in the Orient, and outside ofthat place nothing ever happens in the world. "

"Nothing? What will you give me if I tell you something which willinterest you, my dear Chateau-Renaud?"

"That depends. Who is the party?"

"Our friend, Albert de Morcerf. "

"That is worth listening to: how is the poor fellow getting along?"

"Oh, splendidly! He distinguishes himself in every battle, and will oneday become a famous general. "

"I hope so. Do you still recollect the hard times poor Morcerf had whenthe first article from Yanina appeared in your paper?"

"I do. I went myself on the strength of it to Yanina, and the news Ibrought from there was perfectly crushing from our old friend. "

"And Count Monte-Cristo has disappeared?"

"For the present, yes. Though I am sure that sooner or later he willshow up again. "

At this moment a loud uproar was heard near the door, and as Beauchampopened it, a young man was seen who was struggling with the office boyto gain admission. 

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Beauchamp, in a tone of surprise, as he opened the door. 

"Ah, Beauchamp!" exclaimed the stranger, "I knew you would admit me. "

"At present I have not the honor of your acquaintance, " repliedBeauchamp, bowing. 

"Permit me to refresh your memory; I am the man who called you into thecourt-room during the Benedetto trial. You were at the refreshmentcounter, and--"

"Ah, now I remember, " said Beauchamp, in a friendly tone. "What can I dofor you?"

"Pardon me, Monsieur Beauchamp, but I think I can do you a service. "

"Then come into my office, Monsieur--what is your name now?"

"Gratillet, Monsieur Beauchamp, " said the young man, following him intothe office. After he had taken a chair proffered him he laughed tohimself and in a tone of importance said:

"If I am not mistaken, you interest yourself for Benedetto?"

"A little, Monsieur Gratillet. "

"When you have heard my report, you will do so more. I took good noticeof Benedetto and have come to the conclusion that he has been picked outto do great things!"

"Really? Is he going to become a minister, or perhaps a king?"

"Laugh away; he will not die in the galleys. "

"Then, perhaps, on the gallows; that is sometimes the end of a careerlike his. "

"No, Benedetto is more ambitious than that. I will only give you thefacts and tell you what I heard yesterday. Last night Benedetto receiveda visit in prison. "

"A visit?"

"Just as I tell you. A veiled lady visited him and remained an hour withhim. Her face I could not recognize. "

"Have you got wings with which to pursue Benedetto?"

"No, Monsieur Beauchamp. At the end of the proceedings I took a carriageand arrived at the prison only a quarter of an hour after Benedetto. "

"I call that promptness. You saw the lady then?"

"Yes; I did not recognize her perfectly, but imagine she is the wife ofa banker who left for parts unknown about three months ago. "

Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud looked knowingly at one another, whileGratillet continued:

"The lady in question left the prison at ten o'clock and got into hercarriage. "

"A carriage?"

"No, a hackney coach she had hired. "

"And you followed her again?"

"This time the matter was much easier; I got upon the box with thedriver and arrived at her destination as soon as the occupant herself. The carriage drove to No. 8 Rue Contrescarpe. I looked closely at thehouse and read a sign near the door with the following card: 'MonsieurMagloire, taxidermist. ' The lady got out and rang the bell, but to nopurpose. Becoming bolder she knocked at the door. A sliding window wasopened and a gruff voice asked:

"'Well, what do you want?'

"'I have a letter to deliver, ' said the lady softly. 

"'From whom?'

"I could not make out what she said. A hand was put through the openingand took the letter, whereupon the sliding window was again closed. Thelady waited a while longer and then rode off. "

"Did you follow her?"

"Oh, no, why should I have done that? I am interested in Benedetto, andthe lady is only a side character. First of all, Monsieur Beauchamp, doyou think the story suitable for your paper?"

"Hm! that could be talked over. In the meantime take a cigar. "

"Thanks. Have you ever seen the departure of the galley-slaves fromBicetre?"

"No, but I imagine it must be a curious sight. "

"It is. This morning I was in Bicetre to see Benedetto depart, and Imust confess I almost pitied him. The handsome Andrea Cavalcanti wasundressed and his clothes cut in the usual way. "

"Why do they do that?" asked Chateau-Renaud. 

"To prevent the flight of a convict. Whoever sees these cut clothesknows they belong to a galley-slave. The other prisoners said nothingwhile the operation was being performed; Benedetto, however, cried outaloud when the jailer cut his elegant coat, and when the rattle of thechains was heard in another room he gritted his teeth and cast such alook around him that I instinctively shuddered. "

"Were you present during the chaining of the convicts, MonsieurGratillet?"

"Certainly; I never do things by halves. The prisoners were brought intothe courtyard and placed in rows of two each, who were tied to eachother by a chain six feet long. "

"Are you nearly finished with your story, Monsieur Gratillet?" saidBeauchamp, thoughtfully. 

"Directly. Just as the door opened through which the convicts have topass to leave the courtyard, I noticed among the crowd assembled to seethem off a small humpbacked man. On his crooked shoulders a monkeybalanced, a poodle in uniform sat on its hind legs beside him, in hisright hand he held a bird-cage, and along his left arm a large ratpromenaded up and down. The rat had a wonderfully pointed nose and longtail. It ran up and down the whole time, looking in every direction withits sharp eyes. The prisoners, the jailers and spectators laughed at itsantics. The hunchback drew nearer, and, as it seemed to me, looked atBenedetto. The latter, however, did not notice him, and now I perceivedI had made a mistake, and that the gaze of the ratcatcher was directedto Benedetto's comrade in chains. "

"Did you know this comrade in chains?" asked Beauchamp, hurriedly. 

"Yes; it was a former priest named Anselmo, if you have ever heardanything of him. "

"Certainly. The priest was a disgrace to the cloth, " said Beauchamp. "So he is Benedetto's companion. A worthy pair. "

"I thought so, too, " continued Gratillet, laughing. "Suddenly the ratsprang from the arm of its master on to that of the ex-priest, andrubbing its pointed nose on his sleeve it fawned about him. 

"'Oh, what a beautiful animal!' exclaimed Anselmo; 'present it to me. '

"'I would be a fool, ' replied the hunchback, gruffly. 'I sell myanimals, but I never give them away. '

"'But I have no money. '

"'You have a nice ring on your finger, give it to me and you can have myrat. '

"Now I am ready to swear to it, " said Gratillet, solemnly, "that Anselmohad no ring on his finger before, whereas he had one now. He looked atthe jailer and said: 'In case it is allowed, I should like to exchangemy ring for the rat. '

"The jailer made no objection to this. The hunchback claimed that hisrat 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. Theprisoners were enthusiastic in their praises. Anselmo and the hunchbackwhispered softly together; finally, the jailer put a stop to the thingby shutting the gate and driving the prisoners back. 

"'One word more, ' exclaimed Anselmo, 'I do not know the name of my rat!'

"'The animal is called "Rat King, "' said the hunchback, putting his headonce more through the door. 

"I followed the hunchback; when he turned down a narrow street I criedto him: 'Au revoir, Monsieur Magloire, ' and the look he gave me told meI had guessed right. "

"You believe then--" said Chateau-Renaud. 

"That the letter which the lady delivered in the Rue Contrescarpe waswritten by Anselmo and given to the lady through Benedetto, the letterinclosed the order for the rat, and everything went smoothly. The finalact in the drama will not permit itself to be long waited for. "

"As soon as we are ready, " said Beauchamp, "Monsieur Gratillet can writeit up for our paper. Can I count you, Monsieur Gratillet, from to-day onas one of my staff?"

"I desire no greater honor, " replied Gratillet, his face beaming withjoy. 

CHAPTER X

PONTOON NO. 2

The galley-slaves were shipped from Chalons to Lyons. No accident marredthe trip, and all the prisoners were in good humor, with the exceptionof Benedetto. Anselmo tried his best to arouse his comrade, but hisefforts were fruitless. Benedetto remained silent and gloomy. When theconvicts were leaving the ship at Lyons, Anselmo whispered to hiscompanion:

"Magloire is a good fellow: the file he sent me is sharp. "

"The file?" repeated Benedetto, not understanding the allusion; "he didnot give you any instrument!"

"What a stupid fellow you are. But keep patience; later on I will tellyou more. "

Benedetto, since the journey from Paris, was no longer recognizable; heno longer resembled the proud Andrea Cavalcanti, and sometimes eventhought he was going crazy. 

What sustained him was the thought of the million his mother intended togive the Jesuits on the 25th of February. This million he must securefor himself; but how he was to do so he did not know himself. 

At first he thought Anselmo would keep his word and free him; butgradually this hope vanished, and as the column marched into Toulon onthe 28th of January, Benedetto was on the verge of despair. 

In Toulon the iron necklace was taken off of the prisoners and replacedby an iron ball fastened to the leg. The prisoners were brought to thelavatory, given a bath, and then dressed in the historical clothing of agalley-slave. 

As Anselmo and Benedetto were of the same stature, it was only naturalthat they were both chained together. They were placed in pontoon No. 2, and the little rat-king was their companion. 

The rat soon made itself at home with all the prison officials and theprisoners, and not a night passed but what it played its tricks. Anselmohad taught it a great deal more, and when he asked it:

"Little rat-king, what are your feelings for the king, the law, and theturnkeys?" the little animal would bow at every side, cross its frontfeet over its breast, and move its pointed nose as if it were murmuringprayers, at the same time casting its eyes to the floor. If Anselmowould then ask:

"What is the penalty for those condemned to death?"

The rat would throw itself flat on the ground, and lie motionless, as ifto appear dead. 

Benedetto was the only one who was not amused. Whenever the rat camenear him he would tremble violently. If Anselmo saw it he would makesarcastic remarks about princely ways, which caused Benedetto to grindhis teeth with rage. His only desire now was to get away from hiscomrades in chains. But there was little hope for this, more especiallyas he heard a jailer one day tell Anselmo he should get rid of hisgrumbling companion; if the rat were to support the petition it wouldnot be difficult, and the ex-priest laughingly replied:

"Not a bit of it; Benedetto is just as agreeable to me as another; letus leave things as they are!"

As soon as the jailer turned away, Benedetto, mad with rage, turned tothe ex-priest and said:

"Why won't you free me from your society?"

"Because I do not wish to have any strange face about me, " was theindifferent reply. "You do not embarrass me in the least, and as I donot embarrass you--"

"On the contrary, you are distasteful to me, " interrupted Benedetto, violently. 

"Really? Your candor pleases me. Under all circumstances, we shall staytogether. "

"And suppose I kill you?" hissed Benedetto. 

"Hem, my boy, that is easier said than done. Besides, I can tell you whyyou hate me. "

"I am curious to know! I hardly know myself why I hate you, " saidBenedetto, maliciously. 

"Because you think I lied to you, because in prison I spoke of escape, and have not said a word about that since. "

Benedetto stammered a few unintelligible words, and was ashamed to havehad his thoughts read so easily. 

"Do you know the story of Brutus, who pretended to be a simpleton, so asto bring about the downfall of Tarquin the more effectually?" askedAnselmo, with a malicious smile. 

"You are making fun of me, " Benedetto gruffly answered. "Did youdeceive me when you gave me the letter for Monsieur Magloire?"

"Do you really think so?"

"What a question! Do you think Monsieur Magloire could aid us inescaping?"

"Suppose he has already done so. "

Benedetto looked at his comrade with wide open mouth. 

"Are you really so anxious to escape?" continued Anselmo. 

"Really anxious? I would give my right hand were I able to escape fromprison on a certain day!"

"And when is that?"

"I must leave Toulon on the night of the 24th of April. "

"You must! That settles it. "

"Do not be sarcastic--I must be at liberty or else--"

"Well? or else--"

"Then, you will not betray me, will you?"

"Your anxiety on that point comes rather late, " said Anselmo dryly. "Toreassure you, however, let me tell you that it is not to my interest tobetray you. Look at me. Just as I stand here, I have the power to setyou free on the spot. "

Benedetto uttered a cry. 

"Are you speaking the truth?" he breathlessly asked. 

"And why should I deceive you? Let me give you my conditions, and if youaccept them you will be free on the evening of the 24th of February. "

"What are your conditions?" asked Benedetto faintly. 

"Give me half of the million you are seeking to get, and we are quits. "

The Corsican looked tremblingly at the ex-priest. 

"How do you know?" he stammered. 

"That you are seeking to get a million--well, out of your dreams. Thewords 'the 24th of February, ' and 'one million, ' form the Alpha andOmega of your thoughts, and in your sleep you constantly repeat thesewords. You want to be free on the 24th, so as to steal this million. Steal it, but give me my share!"

"And you want?" stammered Benedetto. 

"One quarter! I could demand half, but I will be modest. "

"How are you going to secure our freedom?" asked Benedetto after apause. 

"That is my affair! I have an accomplice whom I can trust. "

"An accomplice? Who can it be?"

"Swear to me that you will give me a quarter part of your million, and Iwill show him to you. "

Benedetto took the oath. Anselmo whistled for his rat, and, pointing tothe little animal, solemnly said:

"Here is our savior--the little rat-king will free us!"

CHAPTER XI

THE DEAD LIVE

Dr. D'Avigny sat in his private office and studied the sick-list of hisasylum. A servant entered, and announced a young man who desired tospeak with him. 

"You know, Jean, that I do not like to receive visitors so late atnight, " said the physician. 

"The gentleman gave me his card and told me you would receive him. "

The doctor threw a glance at the card. No sooner had he read the name, Maximilian Morrel, than he hurriedly rose and said:

"Bring the gentleman in at once. "

Dr. D'Avigny had only seen young Morrel once--at the time Valentine deVillefort sank apparently lifeless to the ground. As Maximilian entered, both men remembered the sorrowful circumstances under which they had metbefore, and, deeply moved, they shook each other's hand. 

"Doctor, " said Maximilian in a solemn voice, "I do not come to thephysician but to the friend of the Villefort family. "

D'Avigny bowed and Morrel continued:

"Can you tell me how Monsieur de Villefort is getting on?"

"His condition is hopeless, " said the doctor sorrowfully; "as hisattendant just informed me, he is again in possession of his senses, butI fear it is the last glimmering before the final extinguishment. Hebegged me to send for the district-attorney, as he wished to make animportant communication to him, and as I hesitated he hurriedly said:

"'D'Avigny, I have no time to lose; Death is already sitting on mytongue. '"

"Then we must be quick, " murmured Maximilian to himself, and thenspeaking aloud he said: "Doctor, would a great excitement injure yourpatient?"

"That depends upon the nature of the excitement, " answered D'Avigny. "There can hardly be any more joys for Villefort, and troubles I wouldkeep aloof from him. "

"It is a question of a great joy, which, however, is not free fromcertain anxieties. "

"You are speaking in riddles, Monsieur Morrel. "

"Then let me unravel these riddles to you. Valentine de Villefortlives. "

The old physician swayed from side to side and would have fallen to theground had not Morrel caught him in his arms. Hot tears rolled overD'Avigny's cheeks, and sobbing he asked:

"Is it no dream? Does Valentine live?"

"She lives, and yearns to shake her old friend's hand, " replied Morrel. 

He then narrated to the astonished physician the extraordinarycircumstance of Valentine's rescue from death. He told the dangersMonte-Cristo had undergone for her; how he had made the poisoned gobletof Madame de Villefort harmless, and how he had rescued him, too, froma suicide's death. 

"And who is this Count of Monte-Cristo?" asked D'Avigny when Maximilianhad ended. 

"Doctor, " said Morrel solemnly, "here my story ends. Who and what theCount of Monte-Cristo is I am not at liberty to tell. He has a missionto fulfil, rewards here and punishes there, and I myself have been attimes moved to believe him a divine person. There is a mysterysurrounding him, which he alone can clear up; but this I know, he is anoble man. "

"Where is Valentine now?" asked D'Avigny after a short pause. 

"Since the fall of the house of Villefort, Valentine has lived with hergrandfather, Monsieur Noirtier, on his estate near Marseilles. "

"That is the reason, then, why Monsieur Noirtier disappeared so suddenlyfrom Paris?" said D'Avigny. 

"Yes, the Count of Monte-Cristo informed the old man that Valentinelived, and was in need of his protection. Monsieur Noirtier immediatelyarranged his affairs, and up to five days ago they were both livingquietly at Oliolles, near Marseilles. "

"And since then?" asked the physician, uneasily. 

"About five days ago Valentine received this note. Please read it andtell me what you think of it. "

Morrel handed the following letter to the doctor:

 "MADEMOISELLE VALENTINE--In Paris, in the house of Dr. D'Avigny, a dying man awaits your consolation. If you wish to see your father alive, hurry to him. 

 "M. C. "

"The Count of Monte-Cristo must have written this note, " said D'Avigny. "The initials M. C. Prove it. "

"We thought so, too, " said Maximilian. 

"Do you know where the count is now?"

"No. "

"Where could he have found out that Monsieur de Villefort is dying? Imyself have only known it since two days, " said D'Avigny, meditatively. 

"Oh, the count sometimes appears to be endowed with miraculous powers!"exclaimed Morrel, enthusiastically. "Valentine immediately travelledhere under my protection. I--"

At this moment the door opened, and a young man about twenty-five yearsof age, with a fine open face, entered the room. Monsieur d'Avigny tookpride in introducing him to Maximilian as his son Fritz. 

"Papa, " he said to the old gentleman, "Monsieur de Villefort is sinkingrapidly. "

"You have come at the right time, " said D'Avigny, turning towardMaximilian; "where is Valentine?"

"At the home of my sister Madame d'Herbault. "

"Then tell the two ladies, please, to come here at once, " said the oldgentleman. "Valentine can be at hand to come to her father when I call. "

Morrel went away, and the father and son went to Monsieur de Villefort. 

CHAPTER XII

THE CONFESSION

With his head between his hands, Monsieur de Villefort sat in hiseasy-chair, as if an uninterested spectator. When the door opened herose in his chair, and, looking expectantly at the two physicians whoentered, said:

"Well, is the district-attorney coming?"

"He will be here soon, " replied D'Avigny, to quiet the old man. 

"But I have no more time, " exclaimed Villefort, passionately. 

"Monsieur de Villefort, " said the physician earnestly, "you know thatthe district-attorney can only be informed in cases of the utmostimportance, and--"

"And is it not an important case when a man who has himself filled theoffice of district-attorney for years wishes to speak to his successorbefore he dies?" said Villefort, sharply. "What is the name of the newdistrict-attorney?"

"Monsieur de Flambois. "

"Oh, my former assistant, " muttered the sick man, with a bitter smile. "Doctor, it is a question of rehabilitation. Tell Monsieur de Flamboisto hurry up. "

"I will do so, " said Fritz, after an interchange of looks with hisfather, and he immediately left the room. 

The old physician also went away, and immediately afterward Morrelconducted his sister and Valentine into the private office of thedoctor. 

Monsieur d'Avigny with deep emotion drew the young girl, who was attiredin deep mourning, to his bosom, while the tears fell on Valentine'scheeks. 

"My dearly beloved child, " he said, with tenderness. "Thank God that myold eyes are permitted to see you once more. "

"And my father?" asked Valentine, sobbing. 

"You will see him, Valentine. Remain patient for a little while longer;he wants to see the district-attorney, and, as far as I understand, itis about some former injustice which he wishes to repair. Confide in me, I shall call you when the time comes. In the meantime take somerefreshment, as you must be weak from the journey. "

Valentine and Julie withdrew to an apartment which had been prepared forthem, and d'Avigny and Morrel remained alone. 

"If I could only understand, " said the old man meditatively, "howMonsieur de Villefort ever could have such a daughter. "

"Perhaps Valentine's mother, Mademoiselle de St. Meran, had a noblenature. "

"I hardly think so. Of course I did not know Monsieur de Villefort'sfirst 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, wasnot exactly a tender-hearted woman. "

"But she loved Valentine dearly, " Morrel remarked. 

"I admit that; although this love did not prevent her from trying toforce Valentine into an obnoxious marriage. Monsieur d'Epinay was of anold aristocratic family, and that was why the old lady thought he wouldbe a good match for her granddaughter. No, they were all selfish, andValentine can congratulate herself for not being like them. "

The entrance of the servant, who announced the arrival of Monsieur deFlambois and Monsieur d'Avigny, put an end to the conversation. The oldphysician immediately conducted Monsieur de Flambois to the bedside ofhis patient, whose eyes lighted up when he recognized thedistrict-attorney. 

"Monsieur de Villefort, " began the district-attorney, bowing low, "youdesired to speak to me to tell me something important. Do you wish ourinterview to be private?"

"No, " said Villefort, solemnly. "I desire Monsieur d'Avigny to remainand act as a witness. "

The physician seated himself on the bed, while Monsieur de Flambois tookup a position at the writing desk. 

"Monsieur de Villefort, we are ready. "

"Gentlemen, " said the sick man, in a clear, firm voice, "thanks to meand thanks to my wife, Heloise de Villefort, my family name has becomeinfamous and I am not surprised my father no longer wishes to bear it. "

"But, Monsieur de Villefort, " interrupted the official. 

"Let me speak. What would you think of a man who, to save himself, condemns another in cold blood to imprisonment for life. "

"I would call him a criminal, " said Flambois solemnly. 

"Well, I am such a criminal. In the year 1814, I condemned a young manto 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 whosereputation was above suspicion, although in my own heart I knew I was arogue. But the man I thought had rotted away in jail was alive andrevenged himself upon me. The first wife who bore my name was myaccomplice, the second was a poisoner. She murdered every one who stoodin her way; my son and Valentine became her victims; my other son sprungfrom a criminal attachment. I tried to kill him by burying him alive; asa punishment for me, he was rescued to die on the gallows. "

"No, Monsieur de Villefort, Benedetto's sentence was commuted to lifeimprisonment, " said Monsieur de Flambois. 

"That is worse than the gallows, " stammered the sick man. "My first andmy second wife, Benedetto and myself deserved to have our names lookedupon with loathing, but Valentine, my poor innocent Valentine, did notdeserve this shame, and on her account I speak to-day. "

"I do not understand you, " said the district-attorney. "Your daughterValentine--"

"Ah, what fools!" exclaimed Villefort. "How could you imagine thatValentine was my daughter? No, gentlemen, Valentine is not a Villefort!How could an angel be a member of such a sinful race!"

"I thought as much, " muttered d'Avigny to himself, while Flamboislooked at his former chief as if the latter were talking Sanscrit. 

"When I married Renee de St. Meran, " continued Monsieur de Villefort, after a short pause, "I was a young and ambitious official. My wife wasalso 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 ourfirst 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 thesame mind as myself, she yearned to come to court and play a part in theworld of society; Marseilles was too small for her. When Renee became_enceinte_ we were both overjoyed. The birth of a child would smooth ourpath, and we only thought of the first smile of the little being, toarrange our plans. The event so anxiously awaited by us was to takeplace at the beginning of May, 1816. To have you understand whatfollowed, I must go back to April, 1815. I was sitting at work on theevening of the 4th of April, when loud screams attracted my attention. Iopened the window; it was ten o'clock, and in the moonlight I observedthat the street in front of our house was filled with a noisy andturbulent crowd of people. Collecting my thoughts, I blew out my lamp. Isaw a man running rapidly along the street, followed by a great crowdshouting, 'Down with the Englishman. ' The man ran so quickly that hedistanced all his pursuers, and I already thought that he was saved, when I saw him stagger and fall. In a moment his pursuers were upon him, a loud cry was heard, and the next moment the unfortunate man wasthrown into the river. Not long after all was still again. I lighted mylamp again and was about to continue my work, when I heard a slight tapat the window. I became frightened. Who could want me at this hour?Grasping a pistol, I walked cautiously into the garden, from whenceproceeded cries for help. I listened, and could now hear a soft voicewith a foreign accent whisper:

"'Help, my lord. For pity's sake help me. '

"I immediately thought of the cry, 'Down with the Englishman, ' which Ihad 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 aboutthirty years old. 

"'You have rescued me, sir, ' he said in a soft voice, with a peculiaraccent, 'but you will not find me ungrateful. '

"'Who are you, and what am I to do for you?' I asked him. 

"'I was thought to be an English spy in the service of the royalists, 'he said, laughing sorrowfully, 'and the excited crowd threw me into theriver. Fortunately, I did not lose my senses; I dived under, swam ashort distance and then gained the bank. '

"'Then you are not an Englishman?' I asked. 

"'I, an Englishman?' he repeated, with his eyes sparkling with rage;'what are you thinking of?'

"'But who then are you?' I exclaimed. 

"He looked searchingly at me. 

"'You are young, ' he then said, 'you do not know what betrayal is; Iwill confide in you! Besides, you are a Frenchman and hate the Englishas I do. Tell me where is the Emperor Napoleon at present?'

"'In Paris. '

"'Are you sure?'

"'Positive. '

"'You love the emperor?'

"'I am his faithful servant. '

"'Thank Heaven. Would you assist me to reach Paris?'

"'Paris?' I repeated in astonishment. 

"'Yes, I must reach the capital as soon as possible. I must rescue theemperor. '

"'The roads are not safe, ' I hesitatingly replied, 'and if you have nopassport--'

"'You are an official, ' he interrupted me, 'perhaps a judge?'

"'I am what is called in England attorney for the crown. '

"'Ah, in England there are no judges, ' he violently said. 'In Englandare only hangmen! Thank God I am in France; and my ancestors wereFrench. '

"'And your home?'

"'Is the Orient, the land of the sun, ' he said with emotion, as his eyesfilled with tears. 'I am an Indian prince. '

"'That is the reason you hate England!' I suddenly exclaimed, as a lightdawned on me. 

"'Hate it! I curse it!' he said, in a choking voice. 'It is the home oftraitors and murderers. '

"'But did you not tell me a little while ago that you were of Frenchdescent?'

"'Yes. Have you forgotten the names of those Frenchmen who fought sogloriously for India's independence? Dupleix, Labourdonnaye and Lallycame 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. Duringhis stay in India, he married a Mahratta at Scindia's court; twochildren resulted therefrom, a boy and a girl, and the son is the oneyou have rescued to-day. '

"'Then you are really a Frenchman?'

"'No; I call myself Mahratta; the blood of my mother betrays itself inmy veins, for she was the daughter of a prince. '

"'And her name?'

"'I have almost forgotten it myself, as I was not permitted to pronounceit for such a long time. About five years ago Scindia began anew thestruggle against English tyranny. We were defeated in the battle ofGwalior, and I and my sister Naya, a beautiful girl of fifteen, weretaken prisoners by the English. For five years we suffered martyrdom; wewere brought to England, and finally separated. About two months ago Imanaged to escape. I reached the coast, was taken on board a Spanishship, and finally set foot on French ground. Paris is the place I desireto go to. Napoleon has promised us help if we assist him against theEnglish. The whole of India will rise up and crush England, andNapoleon's throne will be secured forever. '

"The handsome youth stood before me like a prophet, and Ienthusiastically exclaimed:

"'Whatever I can do to assist your plans shall be done. Tell me yourname, and I will fill out your passport. '

"'I am the Rajah Siwadji Daola, ' he said. 

"'And your sister?' I asked; 'is she free, too?'

"'No; but she soon will be. A prince of the Mahrattas followed Naya toEngland; he loves her, and will soon bring her to France. '

"'To France? Have they a place to go to here?' I eagerly asked. 

"'Let my sister and her husband find protection in your house, ' hesimply said, 'and the gods will reward you. '

"I hesitated for a moment, and then I cordially answered:

"'Let it be as you say--my house shall be open to your sister!'

"'A thousand thanks, ' he joyfully cried. 'And so that you know mysister, look here. '

"He took out of his silk belt the half of a peculiarly formed bracelet, and handed it to me with the words:

"'Look at this bracelet! Whoever brings you the other half, receive inyour house as a favor to me. I cannot leave the bracelet with you, butif you have a piece of wax I can make an impression which will answerthe same purpose. '

"Wax was soon found, the broad gold plate, with its numeroushieroglyphics, was pressed in it, and after the impression had beensecured the rajah hid the bracelet in his belt. 

"'When can I get the pass?' he asked. 

"'To-morrow morning. What name shall I put in?'

"'The name of my father--Jean d'Arras. '

"The rajah, upon my solicitation, threw himself on my bed and slept afew 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 thenecessary passports from the prefecture, he was already that samemorning on his way to Paris. "

"Monsieur de Villefort, " said D'Avigny, anxiously, "you are exertingyourself too much; postpone the continuation until to-morrow. "

"No, no, " replied Villefort, "I must speak to-day; to-morrow would betoo late. 

"Three months later, Renee de St. Meran became my wife, the battle ofWaterloo 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 nextday. On the night following the birth of the child I was sitting readingat my wife's bedside, when I heard my name being softly called from thedirection of the garden. At first I thought I was mistaken, but the crywas repeated, and I quietly slipped out. Near the garden hedge lay awhite form; the moon was shining brightly, and I saw a woman's face ofextraordinary beauty. Giving vent to a low murmur of astonishment, Idrew near to the figure; when I perceived the glistening eyes and thesatiny dark curls, I no longer doubted but what the woman who lay beforeme was Naya, the sister of the Rajah Siwadji. 

"'You are Monsieur de Villefort?' she said, in a gentle voice. 

"'Yes, and you are Naya, ' I said, to make sure. 

"'I am. My husband, the Rajah Duttjah, is dead. Save my child!'

"At these words the woman opened the white mantle which covered her, and I saw a new-born babe, which was wrapped up in a silk cloth. Thepoor mother looked anxiously at me. I took the child in my arms and ahappy smile passed over the pale face. 

"'Now I can die peacefully, ' she whispered; 'my husband died aswe were about to leave England--I felt myself a mother--I had tolive. Night and day I have wandered. Barely two hours ago my childwas born; I dragged myself to the house, but my strength failedme--here--is--the--bracelet--'

"She paused suddenly--I bent over her--she was dead. From her cold handI took the half of the gold bracelet, and ran into the house. My wifewas 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 nextroom, when I perceived that I had laid the living child next to a deadone. Our little daughter had breathed her last!

"I stood as if struck by lightning. All the proud hopes we had built onthe child's birth were gone. Suddenly the strange child began to cry, and my plan was quickly made. With trembling hands I dressed the strangechild--it was a girl, too--in the clothes of my own daughter, andgathering the silk cloth about the latter, I carried her to the gardenand placed her in Naya's arms. 

"One hour later my wife awoke, and when she asked for our child, I gaveher Naya's daughter!"

"Did not Madame de Villefort ever hear of the change which had beenmade?" asked the district-attorney. 

"Oh, yes; my wife had placed a small chain with a golden cross aroundour child's neck just after it was born; in my hurry I had forgotten toput this talisman on the strange child; I first denied, then confessed, everything. Instead of heaping reproaches on me, she acquiesced in thefraud. The next day my father-in-law came; Naya's daughter was baptizedunder the name of Valentine de Villefort, and on the bed of the child, my happy parents-in-law laid my appointment as district-attorney inParis, 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 carriedwere written in the Indian language; they were given to me as a highofficial, and since then they, together with the wax impression and thehalf of the bracelet, have lain in my private portfolio which alwaysstands near my bed. "

Upon a wink from Villefort, Monsieur de Flambois opened the portfoliodesignated; everything was found there as he had said. 

"Did you never hear again from Daola?" said d'Avigny after a pause. 

"Yes; three years later the rajah wrote me from India. He had fought atWaterloo, was again a captive of the English, and only had anopportunity at the end of a year to escape. Together with the RajahScindia, who later on went over to England, he had again begun thestruggle for independence; he is now living in the interior ofHindustan, waiting for a better opportunity. He asked me for news fromNaya; I wrote him I knew nothing of her, and that ended ourcorrespondence. 

"This is my confession. Now use justice and erase from the headstoneunder which Naya's daughter rests the name of Valentine de Villefort. "

"Suppose Valentine de Villefort is still alive?" asked D'Avignysolemnly. 

CHAPTER XIII

FORGIVENESS

Both Villefort and Monsieur de Flambois uttered a cry of astonishment, and while the latter stammered forth an "Impossible, " the sick manwhispered: "To-day miracles do not occur any more!"

"Gentlemen, " said the physician quietly, "you know I am a sensible man;why should I try to tell you a fable?"

"But I was at the funeral, " stammered Flambois. 

"I also, and yet I tell you the dead woman lives, " persisted D'Avigny, "or if we want to call it by its proper name, Valentine de Villefort isdead and the daughter of Naya and the Rajah Duttjah lives. "

"Then Valentine must have been buried alive, " muttered Villefort, fixinghis eyes upon the physician. 

"And if that were the case?" said D'Avigny solemnly. 

"Then I would say God has done a miracle to save the innocent, " saidVillefort, the tears starting in his eyes. 

"Monsieur de Villefort, " said the physician, earnestly, "do you know howValentine died?"

"Too well--she was poisoned by my wife. "

"What for?"

"Madame de Villefort wished to have Valentine's fortune go to her son. "

"That is dastardly, " said the district-attorney. 

"Do you remember, Monsieur de Villefort, " continued D'Avigny, "to haveseen a mysterious man in your house some time prior to Valentine'sdeath, whose mission it appears is to reward the good and punish theguilty?"

"Yes, I remember; you mean the Count of Monte-Cristo, " said Villefort, with emotion. 

"The Count of Monte-Cristo, " repeated the district-attorney, contemptuously, "the adventurer?"

"Sir, do not blaspheme!" exclaimed Villefort, passionately; "ifValentine is saved she owes it to that God in the form of man--the Countof Monte-Cristo! He alone has the power to change the dead into theliving. If Valentine lives, I will believe God has pardoned a portion ofmy sins. "

"Gentlemen, " said the district-attorney, doubtingly, "I only believewhat I see; if Valentine de Villefort lives, let her show herself. "

"Maximilian, " called D'Avigny, opening the door, "tell Valentine to comein. "

"Whom did you just call?" asked Villefort, when D'Avigny had closed thedoor again. 

"Maximilian Morrel, Valentine's betrothed, the son of the shippingmerchant Morrel, of Marseilles. "

"Morrel--Marseilles--Edmond Dantes, " murmured Villefort. "Ah, there isjustice in Heaven!"

The door was now opened, and Valentine entered. She strode toVillefort's bed and sank on her knees beside it. 

"Oh, father, " she sobbed, embracing him tenderly. "Thank God, I see youagain!"

Villefort gazed at Valentine as if she were a spectre; but tears fell onthe young girl's cheeks, and his lean hands were crossed as if inprayer. 

"Father, dearly beloved father!" stammered Valentine, weepingly, "why doyou not speak? Have you no word of welcome for your Valentine?"

"Monsieur de Flambois, do you still doubt?" asked d'Avigny, softly. 

"Yes, not your statement, but my reason, " said the district-attorney, wiping the tears from his eyes. 

"Valentine, " whispered Villefort, in a broken voice, "kiss me. Now I candie easy. "

"Oh, father, father, you must not die!" she weepingly cried. 

"I must, darling, but I die happy, since I know you will be well takencare of. Monsieur Morrel, " he said, turning to the young man, "you knowwhat unhappiness I once caused your father?"

"No, Monsieur de Villefort, I have forgotten everything, and only knowthat you are Valentine's father, " said Maximilian, cordially. "Give usyour blessing. "

"No, no!" said Villefort, anxiously; "I dare not--I am not worthy of it!But one thing I can do; I can tell Valentine who she is, and Monsieur deFlambois and Monsieur d'Avigny will corroborate my words. Valentine, you, whom I have so often called daughter, look at me and listen to mywords. You are the daughter of the Rajah Duttjah and his wife Naya. Themarriage of your parents was celebrated at Epping Forest, in England, by a Brahmin, who was also a prisoner there; in the portfolio there youwill find the paper relating to the marriage. Do not look at me sofearfully, my poor darling, I am speaking the truth, and these gentlemenwill 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 RajahSiwadji Daola. It was written in 1818. If Daola still lives, he willfind out that I deceived him; that I saw his sister die, and that Naya'schild still lives. "

"But, father, " said Valentine, passionately, "if my parents are bothdead, and you brought me up, I am nevertheless your daughter. "

"Thanks, Valentine. But before my strength gives way, I must performanother duty. Doctor, a glass of wine; I have one more favor to ask ofValentine. "

D'Avigny poured out a glass of red wine for Monsieur de Villefort, andValentine put her arm around the dying man's neck, and rested his headagainst her bosom. 

"I want you to look after my son, Valentine, " whispered Villefort. "Oh, what would I not give if I could wear the chains instead of him--what isdeath to the life led by a galley-slave? If it is in your power to doanything for Benedetto, do not fail to do it. He is a scoundrel, but Iwas the cause of his downfall. Have mercy on him, and I die peacefully!"

"Father, " said Valentine, solemnly, "your wish shall be sacred to me. Ishall go in search of Benedetto, and bring him your last wishes. "

"You are--an--angel, " stammered Villefort. "Farewell. Ah--this--is--death!"

A shiver ran through Villefort's frame--a deep groan--a long breath--hewas dead. 

As soon as Valentine's first grief subsided, the physician persuaded herto stay in her room for the rest of the night, while the gentlemenconferred about the wonderful confession they had heard. 

"If I only knew, " said Flambois, thoughtfully, "what the papers writtenin the Indian language contain--I--"

"Monsieur de Flambois, " interrupted young D'Avigny, modestly, "if yougive me the documents I will translate them for you. "

"Really? How can you do it?" asked the district-attorney, doubtingly. 

"Very easily. Besides my profession as a doctor, I am an enthusiasticOrientalist. I am always in hopes of being able to go to India: the homeof the lotus flower has always had attractions for me. Give me thepapers and I will give you the translation to-morrow. "

"Here are the papers, " said Flambois, thoughtfully. 

They then separated. 

The next day, as D'Avigny was sitting with his daughter, Julie, Valentine and Maximilian at table, a light knock was heard at the door, and in obedience to the summons to come in, Ali, Monte-Cristo's blackservant, appeared on the threshold. 

Valentine and Maximilian uttered a cry of surprise. Ali bowed deeply, handed the physician a letter, and disappeared. 

D'Avigny opened it and read the following:

"Waiting and hoping! In these two words lies the mystery of life. Becourageous and God will help. "

As soon as Monsieur de Villefort's remains were buried, Valentine, Maximilian and Julie returned to Marseilles. Valentine wished to makethe journey to Toulon, and then go to Italy for the remainder of thewinter with Maximilian, her grandfather, and the Herbaults. D'Avigny'slast words at the parting were:

"Beware of Benedetto!"

CHAPTER XIV

THE RAT-KING

The days at the Bagnio passed monotonously. The rat furnished theevening'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 asto call Anselmo a liar and traitor, even threatening him with death. 

"Come, come, " said Anselmo indifferently, "don't be so violent. Insteadof exciting yourself you had better be calm and tell me what relation ithas with the million. "

"That means, " hissed Benedetto, "I should tell you my secret. "

"You are a fool, " said Anselmo, laughing; "remember that you can neverget the million without my aid, and therefore leave off your sulks andspeak. "

"You are always right, " growled Benedetto. "You have my fate in yourhands and I must speak. The million, of course, must first be earned--"

"I am not so foolish as to imagine that the million will fly into mymouth like a broiled pigeon, " interrupted Anselmo; "but first of all, Imust know if you have some right to this million?"

"Certainly, " replied Benedetto; "if the million should slip from mygrasp, I should look upon myself as being robbed. "

"Really--who is the thief?"

"A woman!"

"I thought so; the lady no doubt who took charge of the letter?"

"The same. "

"And you must be set free punctually on the 24th?"

"Yes, on the 25th the money would be irredeemably lost. "

"H'm! that would be fatal. Well, I shall arrange it. "

"You arrange it? Are you ever going to tell me how you intend to set usfree?"

Anselmo peered cautiously about. The jailers were sleeping in thecorners, and the other prisoners, as it was Sunday, were amusingthemselves with the rat, which ran from board to board, performing themost difficult tricks. 

"I will call our savior at once, " whispered Anselmo, and, whistlingsoftly, he called the little rat-king to him. 

The rat immediately came to its master and climbed upon his knee. Anselmo took the animal in his hand, put it on its back, and took fromunder its thick, hairy skin a small, thin instrument called ingalley-slave slang "cow's tail. "

Benedetto uttered a cry of astonishment. Anselmo waved before hiscomrade's eyes a narrow little tooth-saw. 

"Do you believe in my promise now?" the ex-priest triumphantlyexclaimed: "the jailers call our little animal 'rat!' I call him'necessary. '"

Benedetto laughed aloud. Anselmo placed the instrument back in its placeand the little rat-king sprang away, while Benedetto looked at him deafand dumb with astonishment. 

"I am convinced now, " he finally said, breathing deeply, "and now youshall hear how the million is to be got. A lady will come here on the24th--"

"Are you sure of it?"

"Positive. On the 25th this woman will draw one million to give toothers. "

"You are joking--she intends to give away a million?"

"Yes, and we two will prevent her, " said Benedetto, firmly. 

"And who is to get the million?"

"The Church, of course; you understand, now, that I must be free on the24th, so as to be able to follow the lady and take the million fromher. "

"Yes, I understand. Who is the woman?"

Benedetto shrugged his shoulders. 

"Do not bother yourself about that, that is my affair. " He answeredindifferently. 

"Is it a former girl of yours?"

"No. "

"A relative?"

"No. "

"Good. Keep your secret. Tell me one thing more. Will it be a stabbingcase?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't make yourself so green. From what I know of the world, thiswoman, who intends to give the money to the Church, will not offer it toyou. You will take it from her, and if she resists--" He finished thesentence with a suggestive gesture. 

Benedetto became pale as death. He bit his lips and in a hollow voicereplied:

"What is necessary will occur. "

"Good. I am pleased with you; but look--there comes a lady on ourpontoon. Perhaps that is your millionnairess. "

Benedetto looked in the direction indicated. A lady, leaning on the armof a gentleman and accompanied by several high officials, was comingtoward him. 

The Corsican gave vent to an oath and made a movement as if he intendedto throw himself upon the party. "Redhead, " said the jailer, letting hisheavy stick fall on Benedetto's shoulders, "you are trying to fly away?"Benedetto gritted his teeth. He had recognized Valentine, and as she wasa Villefort, and occupied the place he thought ought to have been hisown, 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, madehis anger rise. He thought they had both come to gloat over his shame. The head officer whispered a few words to the jailer, and immediatelyafterward Benedetto and Anselmo were ushered into the presence of thevisitors. 

"They take me along too because they can't help it, " said Anselmowickedly, pointing to the chain which bound them. 

The jailer nodded, and the ex-priest whispered in Benedetto's ear:

"Commit no follies. You look as if you would like to poison every one. "

"That is what I should like to do. But have no fear, I will becircumspect. "

"Which one of you is named Benedetto?" asked the inspector, gruffly, turning to the convicts. 

"I, " said the former Prince Cavalcanti, modestly. 

"You are wanted. Follow me, but do not speak a word or else you will beput in the black hole. "

Benedetto bowed silently, and the next minute stood with his comradebefore Valentine. 

The young girl drew back in terror, as she saw him whom she had thoughtwas her brother. She soon collected herself and gently said:

"Sir, Monsieur de Villefort is dead. "

Benedetto's eyes shone. He felt a wild joy at the death of the man he sobitterly hated. 

"On his death-bed, " continued Valentine with emotion, "he thought ofyou, and the officials have carried out his last wishes, and allowed meto bring you his regards and certain ameliorations for you. From thisday on you are freed from double chains, and if you conduct yourselfwell in the future, you can hope for other mercies. Farewell, and mayGod be with you. "

Valentine's voice broke, Maximilian laid his arm protectingly around theyoung girl and led her away, while Benedetto and Anselmo were broughtback to their comrades. 

"Who is the lady?" asked Anselmo. "She is very handsome. "

Benedetto remained silent and the ex-priest looked distrustfully athim. 

Toward evening the blacksmith came, and Benedetto was freed fromAnselmo. 

"Keep up your spirits, " said the jailer to the ex-priest, "and I willsee 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 newcomrade. "

"I will let my little rat-king intercede for me, " said Anselmo, laughing, and the jailer nodded. 

The 24th of February dawned, and Benedetto, who had not closed an eyeduring the night, looked so miserable in the morning that Anselmo becamefrightened. 

"Come, now, you are frightened, perhaps?" he maliciously asked. The lookhe received from his comrade made him pause. 

The prisoners went as usual to work, and gradually Benedetto calmeddown. The night was to bring the decision, and if Anselmo lied he wouldmake him pay dearly for it. 

During this time a carriage with four horses rode from Aubagne toBeaussuet. At the inn of the latter place it stopped, and while theguard put fresh horses in the traces, the occupant of the coach, aheavily veiled woman, got out and asked of the postmaster who advancedhow far it was to the nearest vicarage. 

"About fifty steps from the inn, " he said. 

"Then please let some one come along with me to show me the way, " beggedthe lady. 

"Directly, madame. Jean, lead this lady to the vicarage. "

"Yes, Monsieur Etienne, " was the servant's reply, "but the priest isnot at home. "

"What?" said the lady, astonished. "Where is he, then?"

"I do not know. He rode past me this morning. Perhaps the housekeepercan tell us, " added the servant. 

"Good. Let us go there, " said the lady, and before the end of fiveminutes they were at the vicarage. 

The door was opened by an elderly woman. She made a courtesy when shesaw the lady, and politely said: "Ah, madame--you are here. "

"Were you expecting me?" asked the lady, astonished. 

"Certainly; his reverence was unfortunately obliged to go on a journey, but there is a letter here for Madame Danglars, if you are the lady. "

"I am Madame Danglars, " said the lady, quickly. 

The old woman handed her a letter, and invited her to make herself athome. Upon which she left. 

As soon as the lady found herself alone, she hastily tore open theletter. It contained a sealed packet, and these lines:

 "MADAME--I am, unfortunately, not able to receive you personally. A journey obliges me to be disrespectful. Nevertheless I hope to see you to-morrow, and beg you to make yourself comfortable in my house. All your conditions have been fulfilled. I inclose a note addressed to the port inspector at Toulon and hope everything will turn out as you desire. 

 "JEAN BALAIS, Curate of Beaussuet. "

The lady put the letter and the note in her pocket, and as the old ladyentered with a cup of steaming bouillon, she hesitatingly said:

"Did the priest tell you I was going to stay here over night?"

"Yes, madame! Your room is ready, and I hope you will sleep soundly, "replied the woman, cordially. 

"The house is safe?" asked Madame Danglars, looking anxiously about. 

"Certainly, madame; we are hid here as if in Abraham's bosom. "

The lady drank the bouillon, and then said:

"Will you please show me my room?"

"Yes, madame! I hope it will please you, " replied the woman, as shewalked up the stairs, followed by the lady. 

Here she opened a door, and the stranger looked in and saw a large, plainly furnished room. At one side stood a snow-white bed, a washstand, some chairs, and an old-fashioned bureau. 

"Does this closet lock?" asked Madame Danglars, examining the lock. "Ihave a jewel-case in the coach which I would like to bring to a place ofsecurity. "

"Ah, the closet is as safe as the poor-box, " the old lady assured her. 

The lady nodded her pleasure at this, and, after she had convincedherself that the door of the room was in order, she went back to thecoach, took a portfolio from the jewel-casket, and brought it to thevicarage. The old lady awaited her at the door; Madame Danglars walkedpast her and went to the upper story, opened the closet, put the box init, closed the door carefully, and put both keys in her pocket. Shethen went downstairs again, and, turning to the old woman, said:

"For the present, good-by; I shall probably be back again before night. "

"Good-by, madame; but do not stay out too late. A storm is coming up, and the roads of Oliolles are dangerous at night. "

"I will try to be back soon. Adieu. "

Madame Danglars got into her carriage and drove off in the direction ofToulon. 

The feelings of the poor woman, who was going to the Bagnio to seeBenedetto as she had promised, can be imagined. She had seen all herhopes reduced to nothing. Her husband had fled after a shamefulbankruptcy, her lover had deserted her, her daughter had disappearedwithout leaving a word behind her, and what was left to her? The childof her shame, who had been sentenced to the galleys for murder. 

She had sacrificed everything for this son, whom she loved dearly; theJesuits had taken her million, and saved Benedetto from the gallows. Though, to her idea, the galleys was worse than death; but there was achance of his getting free. No, she did not wish to think any more; shewould bury herself in a convent in Asia Minor, and forget everything. 

Toulon was at length reached; the driver took the road to the port, andshe felt her heart cease beating. In a little while she would seeBenedetto; the carriage stopped; the driver got out and opened the door. 

"Will you please step out? Here is the Bagnio. "

With trembling limbs, Madame Danglars left the coach, and slipping a fewgold pieces into his hand, she said:

"Make yourself comfortable in the nearest saloon; in about three hourswe shall return home. "

"To-day, madame?" asked the man; "that would be impossible. "

"Why impossible? Get fresh horses, I will pay you for everything. "

"I am very sorry, madame, but the storm, the mistral will come verysoon, and while the mistral lasts we cannot ride. "

"Then I must look for another driver; I cannot delay my return. "

"Madame, believe me, you will not find any one who will drive you whilethe storm lasts. Wait till to-morrow. I will put up my horses at theBlack Eagle and await your commands there. "

"I will think about it, but doubt whether I shall follow your advice. Adieu. "

Madame Danglars entered the office of the port inspector and the driverdrove off. 

CHAPTER XV

IN THE BAGNIO

"Well, what is the matter now?" asked the inspector, gruffly, as MadameDanglars handed him the priest's letter. He grumblingly opened theletter, but when he had read its contents his face lighted up and, making a respectful bow, he said:

"Madame, after reading these lines, I can only carry out all yourwishes, as far as they are confined within the limits of the rules inforce here. You desire to see one of our prisoners?"

"Yes, sir. "

"You are aware that such an interview can only take place in thepresence of the chaplain?"

Madame Danglars became frightened. She had not expected this. 

"I will have the chaplain informed, " continued the official. "In fact, Ishall let him come into my office. This is a special favor. Yesterdaythere was a lady here to see Benedetto, who was not permitted toconverse with him except in the presence of the port inspector and thejailer. "

"A lady?" exclaimed Madame Danglars, vivaciously. "Can you tell me whoshe was?"

"Oh, certainly, it was Mademoiselle de Villefort, the daughter of therecently deceased district-attorney. "

"Monsieur de Villefort is dead?" said Madame Danglars in a chokingvoice. 

"Yes, madame, he died in a private lunatic asylum in Paris. Did you knowthe gentleman?"

"Yes, slightly, " replied Madame Danglars, restraining her emotion. "Ifyou would let the gentleman be informed now--"

"At once, madame, " said the official. 

He wrote a few lines and went away, promising to return shortly. Inabout half an hour the chaplain appeared. He bowed respectfully, andsaid:

"Madame, I am aware of the reason which brings you here. "

"What, you know?" exclaimed Madame Danglars, frightened. 

"Calm yourself, madame; the secrets which are intrusted to me areburied. I must witness your interview as a matter of form, but I shallneither hear nor see. "

Madame Danglars with tears in her eyes thanked the chaplain. The nextminute the door opened and Benedetto appeared, accompanied by thejailer. When the poor mother saw the yellow and red clothing, the greencap, and the chain which led from the waist to the ankle, she uttered alow cry and clutched the arm of a chair to prevent herself fromfainting. Upon a wink from the chaplain, who wore the dress of a Jesuitpriest, the jailer departed, and after the priest had closed the door, he turned toward Benedetto, and said:

"My son, thank God for his mercy, and try to show yourself worthy ofit. "

Neither Madame Danglars nor the priest noticed the smile which flittedacross the convict's face. Benedetto collected himself immediately, andtaking off his hat he bent his knee to his mother and crossed his eyeswith his hand. The priest sat in the window alcove, pulled a prayer-bookout of his pocket and began to read; Madame Danglars threw a lookaround, then she took the bald-shaved head of Benedetto in her hands andsobbingly murmured:

"My poor, poor son!"

"A thousand thanks, mother, for coming, " said the hypocritical convict. 

"Oh, I desired to come, it was necessary for me to see you again, "stammered the poor woman. 

"How good you are! Are you aware that my father pursued me even on hisdeath-bed? He sent his daughter, my sister, here; she brought me hislast regards, but she did not give me her hand nor call me brother. "

"My son, forget everything bad that has been done to you; forgive yourenemies, as you desire to be yourself forgiven, " implored the poormother. 

"For your sake, then. But, tell me, mother, are you really going toleave France?"

"Yes; to-morrow, at this hour, I shall sail. "

"But you are not going alone; the journey is so far, and I fear dangerfor you. "

"Thanks, Benedetto, for your anxiety. How happy you make me. But calmyourself, I shall dwell in the society of pious women, who will protectme. "

"Yes, I forgot. You gave your fortune to buy this protection--the priceyou paid was pretty steep. "

"Benedetto, you blaspheme. Your life is not too dear for me topurchase. "

"I wish I could earn your love, " murmured Benedetto, apparentlyannihilated; "you gave up a million to rescue me. If you had more money, I am sure you would sacrifice it to secure my full pardon. "

"Oh, I do not give up all hope yet, " exclaimed Madame Danglars, vivaciously. 

"What? Have you still got the million?" asked Benedetto, hastily. 

"I shall not deliver the money before to-morrow. But that has nothing todo with the matter. What I have promised, I keep. "

Benedetto remained silent, while a thousand confused ideas ran throughhis mind. He stood with downcast eyes, his left hand carelessly strokinghis chain and his right crumpling his green cap. 

"Mother, " he finally said, in a low voice, "there is no use speaking ofthe past--let us think of the future. You are going to depart to-morrow;where are you staying now?"

"I live at the vicarage of Beaussuet. The Jesuit fathers recommended methere, and I am staying there over-night, although the priest isabsent. "

"Oh, God!" sobbed Benedetto, "if I could only accompany you. "

"I would be glad, too; I have a rough road to go back to Beaussuet. Themistral blows, and the roads of Oliolles are said to be so dangerousthat my driver refuses to take me back to-night. Well, I will findanother one. "

"But why do you not stay in Toulon until the morning?"

"Impossible. I must hurry back to Beaussuet. I left the money at thevicarage. "

"Wasn't that careless? A lonely vicarage, whose owner is absent--"

"I took good care of it; the portfolio containing the money is stowedsafely away in a tight closet, the key of which I carry. "

"But the portfolio must be a large one. It is not so easy to wrap up amillion, " said Benedetto, inquisitively. 

"Yes, if I had to deliver the whole sum in coin; but that is not thecase. Only a small part of the million is in gold, the rest is inbank-notes. "

Benedetto nodded. He knew now exactly what he had desired to find out, and as the chaplain rose, and gently hinted that the time for theinterview had expired, the convict turned to his mother, and weepinglysaid:

"Bless me, mother. "

Madame Danglars placed her trembling hands on his head, and tenderlywhispered:

"God be with you!"

Her strength deserted her; and while Benedetto was being led out by ajailer, she leaned faintingly against a chair. 

The priest consoled her. She sorrowfully shook her head, collectedherself, slipped a thousand-franc note into the priest's hand, andmurmured:

"Give that to those who are as unhappy as I am. "

The next moment she wrapped her cloak firmly about her, and strodetoward the inn where the driver awaited her. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE ESCAPE

"Well, " said Anselmo to his comrade as the latter returned, "how dothings stand?"

Benedetto did not answer at first, but seated himself on a block of woodand looked steadfastly before him. 

"Well, has the million been stolen?" asked Anselmo, growing impatient. 

"No, the million is safe for us, " replied Benedetto. 

"So much the better. This mistral is very favorable to us. It helps ourescape. "

"Really? Anselmo, we must be free in two hours. "

"I shall look out for that--but what will happen then? Have you a plan?"

"Yes. Do you know the village of Beaussuet?"

"Yes. It is near the gorge of Oliolles. "

"Right. We must reach this village to-night, even though we run thedanger of being caught and brought back, if we escape by daylight. "

"What are you talking about? There is no daylight to-day. One can hardlysee one's hand now, and in two hours it will be night. "

"But suppose we should be locked up in the pontoons?"

"That is what I desire. We must flee by way of the pontoons. "

"And our chains?"

"Have you forgotten our little Rat King?"

"You are talking nonsense again. "

"Listen, Benedetto. When a million is involved, I never joke. The sawour necessary carries will cut our chains in ten minutes. And now towork. Here comes the overseer. "

The convicts grasped one of the heavy logs and pretended to be workinghard peeling off the rind. As Anselmo had rightly predicted, one couldnot see one's own hand, and no one observed Anselmo and his companionglide toward the pontoon, which was empty. 

"Lie flat on the ground, " Anselmo ordered, "and feel about with yourhands. "

Benedetto did as he was told. Suddenly he uttered a low cry as his handcame in contact with a dark object, which flitted about. 

"What a noise you make, " grumbled Anselmo. "You have disturbed our poorlittle Rat King from his work. "

"Ah, now I feel a split, too. Has the rat gnawed it through?" whisperedBenedetto, gleefully. 

"Certainly. The courageous animal has been working to free us for over amonth. As you might have noticed, I smeared the floor of our pontoonwith grease, in consequence of which our shrewd rat has spent all hisspare moments here, and now his business is ended. The boards are gnawedthrough. "

"Ah! then we are to escape by swimming?" asked Benedetto, surprised. 

"Have you finally found out? You are not afraid, are you?"

"No, no!" exclaimed Benedetto hastily. "Freedom at any price. "

"Now you please me! Let us go now and take up our work again before ourabsence is noticed. "

"One word more! Have you thought of our clothes?"

"I have thought of everything. Trust in me. "

The convicts returned to their work, but soon after the weather becameso bad that the jailers stopped work and formed the prisoners in columnsto return them to the pontoons. The storm broke with such fury that themasts snapped and the sails flew about. A piece of a mast knocked aconvict overboard, and when he was fished up his skull was found to befractured. A cry of terror ran through the lines and the jailershastened to bring the columns to the pontoons. Benedetto and Anselmocowered in their corners and listened to the roar of the mistral. Thelouder it became, the more their hearts beat with joy. 

"Are you ready?" whispered Anselmo to his comrade. 

"Yes. "

"Then forward! It is a question of life or death. "

They both lay flat on the ground and Anselmo drew from a hole a packagewrapped in sail cloth. "Here, take this package, " the ex-priest told hiscompanion, "and give it to me as soon as I am in the water. Do you seethe plank which our little pet gnawed through? Well, it can be shovedaside, and by that way we come to a cave where instruments and nails arekept. In this cave is a door, to which I have the key which locks it. Now pay attention; I am turning the key. Forward, in the devil's name!"Through the open door Anselmo carefully glided into the water, whichsurged and roared. Benedetto handed him the package and glided likewiseinto the river, and while the pontoon creaked and groaned, torn by theforce of the storm, the two convicts disappeared in the darkness. 

CHAPTER XVII

IN THE MOUNTAIN PASS OF OLIOLLES

Madame Danglars had returned to the inn and asked feverishly for freshhorses, so as to be able to drive to Beaussuet. The innkeeper politelyassured her it was impossible to carry out her wishes. Madame Danglars, without changing a muscle, looked steadily at the man. To her idea moneycould do anything, and she therefore opened her purse, and placing fivehundred francs on the table, asked once more for fresh horses. Theinnkeeper immediately remembered that there was a man in Toulon whowould risk his own and his horses' lives for money, and he sent amessenger for him. Two long hours passed before the messenger returned. He brought a favorable answer. Father Jacob, that was the man's name, would come at four o'clock with two good horses. 

"Who is this Father Jacob?" asked Madame Danglars of the innkeeper. 

"Oh, he is a former city boarder, " replied the host, laughing, as hegave a suggestive glance in the direction of the Bagnio. 

Madame Danglars shuddered. 

"Does he know how to drive?" she asked. 

"Like Satan. He used to be a driver of the mail coach, but got a fewyears in the galleys for assisting robbers to plunder the mails. He isnow, however, a good, honest man, and you can safely trust yourself tohis care. "

What was the baroness to do? She patiently sat down, and breathed morefreely when the clock struck four, and the expected coachman arrivedwith two splendid horses. 

"So you want to drive me to Beaussuet?" asked Madame Danglars, vivaciously. 

"Yes, madame, for five hundred francs. "

"Then harness your horses at once. "

"But, " stammered the ex-convict, scratching his head, "I make it a ruleto take money in advance. "

"Good! Here is the money, and go quick, because I am in a hurry. "

"I am in a hurry to go too. The roads will not get any better, and themountain passes of Oliolles are not easy to ride over, even in goodweather. "

In less than a quarter of an hour, the baroness sat in the coach. Theinnkeeper stood at the door, and, as the horses started, he whispered tothe coachman: "Take care of yourself, old fellow. You know you haveevery reason to be prudent. "

"I will be so, " replied Jacob, as he whipped the horses and drove off. 

In the meantime, the storm continued with unabated vigor, tearing uptrees, rolling the waves mountains high, and sometimes shaking the heavycoach as if it had been a feather. The horses seemed to care as littlefor the weather as the coachman. Madame Danglars, however, becameterribly excited, and, sobbing bitterly, cowered in a corner of thecarriage. Around about her, as within her, all was dark. She stillthought she heard the rattling of Benedetto's chains in the roar andfury of the storm--she thought she could distinguish the soft voice ofBenedetto. Suddenly a sharp jolt was felt, the coachman uttered an oath, and Madame Danglars sank in a semi-unconscious condition against thecushions of the coach. 

When she recovered herself she became aware that one of the horses hadstumbled; the coachman was still swearing, and tried to raise the animalup. Suddenly he came to the carriage door, and grumblingly said:

"Madame, I must give you your money back. We will not be able to reachBeaussuet. "

The storm whistled and roared with bitter fury. Madame Danglars lookedanxiously at the man, and in a hollow voice asked:

"Where are we?"

"The devil only knows. These passes look all alike. "

"But we cannot remain here. What would become of us?" said the poorwoman sobbing. 

"Come, come, do not carry on so, " Jacob consolingly said. 

"These passes have always been dangerous. Thirty years ago I met with amisfortune at this same place; oh, when I think of that time--"

The face of the ex-convict darkened; Madame Danglars looked anxiously athim, and murmured softly:

"May God have mercy upon me!"

The man paused for a moment and then said:

"I know another way out of the difficulty. We could return to Oliolles, which is fifteen minutes distant, and some one there would fix my axle, which the horse in falling broke. We could wait at Oliolles until thestorm subsides. It won't rage so furiously long. I know the mistralwell. "

"And you promise me you will go ahead again as soon as the storm isover?"

"As true as I stand here, " the man replied. 

Madame Danglars rose up and got out, while Jacob unharnessed the horsesand took one of the coach lamps in his hand. 

"Now follow me, " he said, holding the lantern aloft. 

He threw the reins about his arm and strode bravely along, while MadameDanglars slowly walked behind. 

As Jacob had said, the storm had decreased in intensity. A fine rainpoured down, and the poor woman strode on with renewed courage. 

Suddenly the storm cast a curiously formed thing at the feet of thepedestrians. Jacob picked it up and laughed loudly, as he put aconvict's green cap, for such it was, upon his head. 

"Almighty God!" exclaimed Madame Danglars in terror. 

"Madame, " said Jacob, confused, "I did not want to frighten you. I wasonly glad to see such a cap after so long a time. "

"How did the cap get here?" asked Madame Danglars, excitedly. 

"That is easy to say. A convict has thought fit to free himself from thekindly care of the Bagnio attendants, and as the beautiful costume ofthe galley slaves is universally known, he has changed his toilet andthrown his cap, jacket and trousers to the winds. "

Madame Danglars became excited, but she kept silent. They soon reachedthe house at Oliolles. The church bell of the village struck eighto'clock. Jacob went to the nearest inn, and, tying his horses to a tree, he entered the smoky little saloon, accompanied by his companion. 

The innkeeper immediately hurried toward them, and while Madame Danglarsordered a glass of brandy for the coachman, the latter went to thekitchen 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 satthere threw curious glances at the despised head-dress. Finally one ofthem said:

"Where did you get that pretty cap?"

"My coachman found it, " said Madame Danglars softly. 

"On the road?" exclaimed the men, rising as if electrified. 

"We must hurry! Who is going along?"

"I--I!" came from all sides, and, as Madame Danglars looked from one tothe other, the innkeeper said:

"There is a reward, madame, given by the city of Toulon for the captureof an escaped convict, and where a convict's cap is found they naturallyconclude 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 hoursmore have passed. "

"The escaped convict cannot have been long in the Bagnio!" exclaimed apeasant looking closely at the cap. "The thing is almost new. "

"Is there no name on the lining?" asked another. 

"No, only a number--88!"

Madame Danglars gave a loud scream and with difficulty stammered:

"Show me the cap?"

Yes, there could be no doubt, the cap bore the number 88, the same whichshe had noticed on Benedetto's clothing. Had he escaped? And now thesepeople wished to hunt him down like a wild animal, and he would not beable to hide from them. 

"We must be going, " said one of the peasants; "the convict cannot be faraway, and who knows but we shall have luck and find two. It seldomhappens that one escapes alone, the double chain is a good invention. Are you all ready?"

"Listen to me, gentlemen, " said Madame Danglars firmly; "I will make youa proposition. Let the convict escape. "

"And our hundred francs?"

"You will lose nothing! I will give you two hundred francs. It might bea humor, but I cannot reconcile myself to the thought of having a manpursued as if he were a wild animal. "

The men looked up. 

"The weather is terrible, " said one. 

"And a bird in the hand is worth two in a bush, " said another. 

"But we are three?" said the third, with a look of cupidity. 

"You shall have three hundred francs, but let the convict escape. "

"Good, madame! Your wish shall be fulfilled, " said the men, after apause; "but suppose he should be captured by some one else?"

"That cannot be helped, " said Madame Danglars. "Who knows but what thepoor fellow might get free this time. I saw the Bagnio to-day, and sincethen I am terribly nervous. It was frightful. "

At this minute a shot was heard, and a firm voice cried:

"Help! help! Hold him!"

The innkeeper ran out, followed by the men. Madame Danglars crouched ina corner, and prayed to God to let her die before she should see herson. 

The door was now torn open, and a great crowd entered the room. 

"Forward, you horse thief, " Jacob's rough voice was heard saying; "wejust captured you in time. "

A man whose face was covered with blood was pushed into the room. Hefought desperately, throwing chairs and tables about, and falling flaton the ground. 

"Let me alone, " he cried, breathlessly. "I am tied already. I cannotescape. "

Madame Danglars muttered a prayer of gratitude. No, that was notBenedetto's voice. 

"Yes, we have got you, " replied Jacob; "but the other one who took myhorse has escaped! Would you believe it, " he said, turning to thepeople, "that the other rascal ran off with my horse? While I wasgetting cord and nails I heard a noise in the courtyard. I ran to thespot, and saw two men getting on the backs of my horses. Quick asthought I pulled out my pistol and fired. One of them fell, but before Icould load again the other had disappeared! But I shall get him, and mayGod have mercy on him. Quick, a glass of brandy, and may the devil takehim!"

While the people crowded about Jacob, Madame Danglars drew near to theconvict. 

"Did Benedetto accompany you?" asked Madame Danglars, softly. 

Anselmo looked up surprised. 

"Ha! the lady who gave me the letter for Benedetto, " he murmured. --"Yes, Benedetto accompanied me. "

"I want to save him; help me, and I will make you rich. "

Lo! that was the lady with the million. Anselmo looked cautiously about, then whispered softly:

"Cut my cords. A knife lies over there. "

Madame Danglars let her handkerchief fall on the table; when she pickedit up she held a knife in her trembling hands; one cut and Anselmo wasfree. At the same moment she got up and stood in front of the door. 

"Now, good-night, " said Jacob, putting the empty glass down and drawinghis pistol from his pocket. 

At the same instant Anselmo sprang forward, and, seizing the pistol, heclutched Madame Danglars under the arm as if she were a child, and ranout of the room with her. Madame Danglars at once realized thesituation. While Anselmo pressed against the door with all his strength, Madame Danglars, who was a splendid horsewoman, sprang into the saddle. Anselmo then let go of the door, fired a shot into the crowd whichsurrounded him, and likewise bounded on to the back of the horse. Theanimal reared, but receiving a slight cut with the knife Madame Danglarsstill held in her hand, it flew like the wind, bearing the two far fromtheir pursuers. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THE MOTHER

Benedetto, who had been told the way to Beaussuet by Anselmo, whippedhis horse severely, making it fly over the stones and pavement. Thevicarage was situated at the entrance to the village; the horse wascovered with blood and foam, but Benedetto knew no mercy. Like a flashof lightning horse and rider flew along, and when the horse finallybroke down, the first houses in the village had been reached. 

Benedetto jumped off, but did not throw a look at the dying horse; heonly thought of himself and his safety. He thought Anselmo had falleninto the hands of the people at Oliolles. That his companion would notbetray him he knew, but the coachman had seen him and he would bepursued. There was no way out of it. He must get possession of themillion, and then try to reach the coast. 

Benedetto recognized the vicarage at the first glance, as his mother haddescribed it accurately to him. An olive-tree stood inside the wall nearthe entrance. Benedetto took between his teeth the knife Anselmo hadgiven him, and swung himself over the wall and thence on to thewindow-sill. The wretch hesitated a moment before he broke the pane. Suppose his mother uttered a cry. 

"Ah, bah, " he thought, "it will be her own fault. "

With a quick movement he broke the glass. 

Taking out a small thieves'-lantern and some matches, which Anselmo hadalso given him, he struck a light and looked around. The bed was empty. 

"The mistral delayed her, " muttered Benedetto; "I must be quick. "

Hastily plunging his knife into the closet, he opened the door, and wassoon in possession of the portfolio. He put it on the table and tried toopen the lock with his knife. But in vain; it would not open. 

At this moment his sharp ear detected the sound of horses' hoofs. 

"The pursuers, " he muttered, and for a moment he was dazed. 

He collected himself rapidly. He did not wish to be caught, yet did notdesire to lose the million. Taking the portfolio in his hand, he openedthe window and was about to spring out when he paused. Unless he had theuse of both of his hands, he could not hope to reach the wall, and hedid 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 thekey in her pocket. 

What was he to do? Alive he would not be captured, and the bandit whohesitated to draw his knife against his pursuers was a coward. Hehimself dreaded death, and he therefore carefully tried to remove thelock with his knife. Perhaps he could escape anyhow!

He had just removed two screws, when he heard heavy steps coming up thestairs. His pursuers were at his heels. 

With the portfolio under his arm and his knife held aloof in his hand, he waited. A key was inserted in the lock now, the door opened, and afigure entered the room. 

But it did not proceed far. Benedetto's knife sank down and a hot streamof blood squirted into the face of the murderer, who had struck hisvictim in the breast. At the same moment Benedetto felt himself seizedby a hand of iron and thrown down, while a well-known voice cried in hisear:

"Miserable scoundrel, it was your mother--your mother, and you knew it!"

The man who said this in a voice of thunder was none other than Anselmo, the galley slave, the ex-priest who had disgraced his cloth, but who wasinnocent in comparison to his comrade Benedetto. 

He shook the Corsican like a madman, and continually repeated the words:

"Scoundrel! Murderer! Monster! It is your mother!"

Madame Danglars lay groaning on the floor, the knife was buried up tothe hilt in her breast, and yet she did not utter a cry as sherecognized her murderer. She restrained herself with superhuman power, fearing to give the alarm to Benedetto's pursuers. 

"Benedetto, " she faintly whispered, "you have killed me--but you did notknow it was I, did you? Oh, sir, " she added, turning to Anselmo, "leavehim alone, he must escape--quick!"

Anselmo obeyed. During their desperate ride, he had been told by thepoor mother what Benedetto was to her. He knew Benedetto would go tothe extreme, and his heart stopped beating as he thought of theunnatural son! He had urged the horse on at a wild gallop, so as tobring Benedetto's mother to the vicarage in safety. His own safety wasof secondary importance to him, when it was a question of protecting amother from the knife of her son. He intended to alarm the house; thatBenedetto would arrive there before them he had not imagined. 

"Sir, " muttered the baroness, faintly, "swear to me that you will letBenedetto escape. Do not pursue him, and I die peacefully. "

"I swear it, " said Anselmo, in a hollow voice. 

"Thanks, a thousand thanks! Benedetto, embrace me and fly. "

The bandit stood as if transfixed, and gazed at the dying woman, andonly when Anselmo touched him by the arm and drew him to the groaningwoman, exclaiming: "Do as she says, or I will kill you, " did hecondescend to press his forehead to her cold lips. 

"Benedetto, " she whispered faintly. 

Her breath ceased--she was dead. 

"I have the million, " said Benedetto, after a pause, "come!"

Instead of answering, Anselmo tore the knife from out of the breast ofthe dead woman and, holding it toward the son, hissed:

"Go, monster, or I shall break my oath and kill you. "

Benedetto hesitated no longer, took the portfolio which lay on thefloor, and bounded down the stairs. 

CHAPTER XIX

ON THE SEA

Since that eventful evening at the vicarage of Beaussuet eight days havepassed. On the evening of the eighth day a sharp northeast wind blew andwhipped the waves of the Mediterranean Sea so violently that they rosemountain high and almost buried a small frigate under their white caps. The captain of the frigate stood at the helm and hoarsely roared out hiscommands to the sailors, but they did not understand him, and when thestorm tore off the mainmast a loud outcry was heard. The captain was theonly one who did not lose his senses. With his axe he chopped off theremaining pieces of the mast, and turning to his crew, his faceconvulsed with passion, he said:

"Thunder and lightning! what do you mean by disobeying my orders? Haveyou got cotton in your ears?"

"No, captain, " replied the oldest sailor, "we do not disobey yourorders, but why should we carry them out, since we are lost anyhow?"

As if in confirmation of his words a terrific wind threw the frigate onits side, and even the captain could hardly sustain himself on his feet. 

"You are miserable cowards, " he cried to the sailors; "one wouldimagine you had never seen a storm before! Do you still remember how thefrigate was almost wrecked off Malta, and yet we saved our livesthen?--"

"Yes, captain, " interrupted a sailor, "but that was different. "

"How so? What do you mean? Open your mouth, or--"

"That time we did not have any branded men on board, " said the sailor, firmly. 

"No branded men? Are you mad?"

"No, captain; but so long as we have these unhappy men on board thestorm 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 acrash and we shall be food for the sharks!"

Unconsciously the captain looked in the direction indicated. A man, whose face could not be seen, lay flat on the vessel, his arms nervouslyclutching a package enveloped in a piece of sail-cloth. Now and then atremor ran through his frame. He was apparently greatly frightened. 

"What's the matter with the man?" asked the captain, gruffly. 

"When he came on board at St. Tropez he was covered with blood, and--"

"Well, what then?"

"Well, his hair is shaved clean to the skin, as if he just came from theBagnio. "

"One would think, " exclaimed the captain, loudly, "you are all saints. Do you remember, Pietro, what you had done before I shipped you?"

"Bah! I killed a Custom House officer, that is no crime. "

"So, and what was the matter with you, Rosario?"

"Captain, " answered Rosario, proudly, "you ought to know what a vendettais. "

"Didn't I say so? You are all as innocent as newborn babes. You ought tobe ashamed of yourselves. "

In spite of his apparent indifference, the captain felt inwardly uneasy, and the sailors' statements appeared to him to be well founded. 

About four days before, as the frigate lay at anchor at St. Tropez, aman had approached the captain and offered him three thousand francs ifhe would take him along and land him on the Italian coast. Gennaro, thecaptain and owner of a smuggling vessel, did not hesitate long. Threethousand francs was a large sum, and as the passenger paid cash heoverlooked certain things which he might otherwise have noticed. Theclosely shaved head pointed to a former galley slave, but as heconducted himself well on board and kept out of every one's way, thecaptain no longer thought about it. 

The sailors, however, thought differently. With that superstitionpeculiar to Italians, they blamed the strange passenger for all themishaps which had befallen the vessel since the "Shaven Redhead, " asthey called him, had come on board the vessel. On the first night asudden storm carried away the rudder, on the second day one of theplanks near the helm split, and the storm kept on increasing, finallyreaching such a height that even Gennaro, the veteran sailor, could notremember to have ever seen one like it. 

The boatswain now approached Gennaro. 

"Well, Mello, " said the captain, trying to appear indifferent, "do youalso think the frigate is lost because the branded man is on board?"

"Yes, " replied Mello, briefly, "if God does not perform a miracle. "

At this moment a terrific crash was heard, and with loud cries thesailors rushed on deck. 

"A waterspout; we are sinking!" they exclaimed, terror-stricken. "Help, captain, help!"

Immense waves of water poured over the deck and tore away part of thestern, making a deep hole in the frigate, which rapidly filled withwater. 

"To the pumps, men!" exclaimed Gennaro--"to the pumps!"

This time his command was immediately obeyed. The feeling ofself-protection was stronger than their superstition, and the sailorswere soon hard at work at the pumps. 

Only two persons remained behind. 

"Pietro, " said one of them to the other, "are you anxious to swallowwater?"

"_Corpo di Dio_, no!"

"How do you expect to save yourself?"

"Oh, there is still a remedy!"

The men exchanged knowing looks, and then one of them whispered:

"Be careful; do not let the captain hear of it; he might hinder us. "

"He would be foolish enough to do so. We are heading straight for Elba, on the rocks of which we will be hopelessly dashed, if we do not takeour steps beforehand. Let me attend to it as soon as she lies in thewater. "

As he said this, he looked toward the stranger, who was still lyingmotionless on the deck. 

"Comrade, " said Pietro to the stranger, "are you aware that we aresinking?"

A look of horror met the speaker, and then Benedetto, for it was he, said:

"Is there no rescue possible?"

"Oh, yes; with money you can do anything. "

"Then rescue me, and I will pay you what you ask. "

"Then listen. The frigate has but one boat. Follow us and make no noise. We will get into the boat and push off. For the rest, may God look out. "

Benedetto nodded. When had he ever said no to any deviltry?

With staggering steps he followed the two sailors. 

"Here!" exclaimed Pietro. 

Benedetto could not see his hands before his eyes and blindly followedhis guides. Suddenly he felt himself grasped by strong arms, and thenext minute he was hurled headlong into the sea. The sailors had thrownhim overboard to save the ship!

The package enveloped in sail cloth, and which contained his fortune, the wretch firmly clasped. 

The waves threw him here and there. He lost consciousness. Suddenly hecame to; a wave had thrown him upon a rock, and his forehead struckviolently on a sharp stone. A dark stream of blood flowed over the paleface of the parricide, and heaving a deep sigh he lost consciousnessanew. 

CHAPTER XX

MONTE-CRISTO

The storm had subsided and the stars shone clear and bright upon thesoftly rippling sea as a yacht plowed swiftly through the blue waters. Aman enveloped in a long cloak leaned with folded arms against therailing and thoughtfully peered into the stream. He shuddered slightlyas 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 tenderlywith his sparkling eyes, which shone like dark stars, upon a handsomeyoung woman. 

The young woman wore the costume of the inhabitants of Epirus; the finewhite silk dress, which inclosed the slim, beautifully shaped form, looked like freshly fallen snow, and the embroidered flowers on herbroad belt could hardly be distinguished from real plants. 

"My darling, " said the man softly, as he pressed a kiss upon theraven-black hair. 

"Oh, how I love you, my friend, my husband, " she whispered in the sametone. 

"Did the storm frighten you, Haydee?" asked the man anxiously. 

"I am never frightened when you are near me, " the pretty Greeklaughingly replied; "you ought to know me better. "

"Nature, Haydee, is sometimes stronger than the will of man. "

"But God supervises the actions of nature, as he does the hearts ofmen, " said Haydee, casting a look full of childish confidence at thestarry sky. 

"Are you aware, Haydee, that we shall reach our destination in an hour?"

"Yes, and when we land at Monte-Cristo you will tell me the story ofyour life, and I shall then find out the nature of the sorrow you haveundergone. "

"Haydee, the sorrow belongs to the past; the future at your side has instore for me only joy and happiness. From your pure lips the sentence, whether I am to be damned or saved, must come. "

At this moment an old sailor approached them and in a tone of awe said:

"Count, are we going to Monte-Cristo?"

"Yes, Jacopo; you and your men stay on board, while Bertuccio and Aliaccompany us. We shall only stay a few hours. Send Ali to me, and see toit that the yacht reaches its destination soon. "

Jacopo bowed, and shortly afterward Ali appeared. 

"Ali, " said the count, turning to the Nubian, "have you carried out myorders?"

Ali folded his arms across his breast and nodded his head. 

"And you know that your life is at stake?"

Ali again nodded. 

"Good; you can go. "

"You frighten me, " said Haydee, clinging to the count. "Ali is sodevoted to you, and if we should lose him--"

"Have no fear, child; we will not lose him if he does his duty. "

Like lightning the Ice Bird--for such was the name of the yacht--flewover the hot waves, which were bathed in the first rays of the morningsun, and soon the rude rocks of the island of Monte-Cristo were in viewof the travellers. Haydee stood leaning against her husband's shoulder, and watched the play of the glistening waves, while beforeMonte-Cristo's eyes the past rose like a vision. 

Ten years before, in February, 1829, Jacopo had taken him, who hadpassed fourteen long years in the Chateau d'If, into his service. Caderousse, Ferdinand, Danglars, and Villefort had been his enemies, andnow justice had overtaken all of them. The treasure of the Abbe Fariahad placed Edmond Dantes in a position to play an important part in theworld as the Count of Monte-Cristo, and, now that he saw his plansrealized, and the traitors punished, Monte-Cristo felt his soul stirredby doubts. Faria had intended to establish the unity of Italy with thelegendary wealth of the Spadas. Later on he had given his treasure toEdmond Dantes to do with as he pleased; like the angel with the fierysword, Monte-Cristo had punished the guilty, and now--

"Count, " said Bertuccio, "we shall land directly. Have you any new orderfor me?"

"No, Bertuccio; you know my orders for Ali; they suffice. "

Bertuccio departed, and immediately afterward the ship came to anchor. 

The count laid his arm on the shoulder of the pretty Greek, andtenderly led her to the boat in waiting. Ali and Bertuccio followed, andthe little vessel, driven by four strong oarsmen, flew like an arrowthrough the water. 

The boat soon reached the beach, and Monte-Cristo carried Haydee in hisarms to land. He motioned to Bertuccio and Ali, and, turning to thesailors, said:

"Come back for us in two hours. "

The bark disappeared, and Monte-Cristo walked in the direction of thegrotto. Haydee followed him, feeling as if she were entering somesanctuary, since it was at Monte-Cristo that she became the wife of theman whom she loved above everything else in the world. 

The count divined the young woman's thoughts and drawing her toward him, he whispered: "My darling, at this place you became mine. To-day I wishto hear from your own lips whether I really deserve my happiness. "

The subterranean palace housed the travellers. Fragrant perfumes filledthe magnificent halls, and in the light of the wax candles the gold andsilver service shone with fairy-like splendor. 

Monte-Cristo conducted Haydee to a charming boudoir; her feet sank inwavy carpets, and after she had seated herself with incomparable graceon a divan, the count stood beside her and proceeded to relate the storyof his life. It was a long time before he had finished his tale. Haydeefelt with him the horrors of his prison, she sobbed as he described thedeath of Faria, whom he called his spiritual father, and cried out interror as she heard that the cemetery of Chateau d'If was the wide sea!Then he had dug out Faria's treasure. How rich he thought himself then, and how poor he was at the moment when he set foot on the land and heardthat his father had died of starvation, and that Mercedes, his bride, had forgotten him and married the man who had betrayed him. 

He had sworn then that he would revenge himself and punish all those whohad sinned against him. Villefort, Caderousse, Danglars and Morcerf hadsuccumbed to him, and he could now triumphantly exclaim: "I am yourmaster; I have punished all of you as you have deserved. "

"Haydee, " said Monte-Cristo finally, "what is your decision?"

"That you have fulfilled the mission which God has placed in your handsaccording to his wish and desire. God was with you, for you have dealtout justice, " exclaimed Haydee, her eyes sparkling. 

"And now, Haydee--now--"

"Now justice is satisfied and you will become merciful, " whispered theyoung woman softly. 

"I wish to do so, Haydee, so help me God; for each act of revenge I willplace a good deed in the eternal scales, and the years which stillremain to me shall be devoted to the noblest aims of humanity. I--"

Suddenly Monte-Cristo paused, a slight motion from Ali showed thatsomething unexpected had happened, and, hastily drawing Haydee with him, he left the grotto. 

"What's the matter, Ali?" he asked, turning to the Nubian, who stooduneasily on a sharp ledge of the rock. 

Ali threw himself at full length on the ground and closed his eyes. 

"Ah!" exclaimed the count, "you have a man on this rock?"

Ali nodded gleefully. 

"And do you know who he is?"

Ali's look expressed doubt. He put his hand to his forehead and shookhis head to indicate that his memory had deserted him. 

"Is the man wounded?"

"Yes, " nodded Ali. 

"Dead?"

"No, " shaking his head. 

"But he is not able to move?"

Ali's face lighted up again when he saw he was understood. 

"Haydee, " said the count, turning to his wife, "I look upon it as a goodsign that God has permitted me at this minute to do an act of charity. Remain here, while I go with Ali to save the poor fellow. "

"I shall accompany you, " said Haydee, pleadingly; "let me take part inyour good deeds. "

"Then come, my darling, " said Monte-Cristo, in whose eye a tearglistened, and they both followed Ali, who hurried toward the beach. 

As they passed by the entrance to the grotto, Haydee noticed thatBertuccio was making a hole in the rock with his pickaxe. 

"What is Bertuccio doing?" asked Haydee, curiously. 

"You shall find out later on, " replied the count, and, turning toBertuccio, he asked in a low voice:

"Is the work nearly finished?"

"Almost, count. I have just one thing more to do, and as soon as yougive the sign, all will be over. "

"Very well, Bertuccio, and now follow us. "

The Corsican looked wonderingly at the count, and, taking his pick inhis hand, walked behind. When they had reached the rear part of thelittle island, Ali paused and pointed to a rock which projected into thesea. 

Monte-Cristo's eyes followed the Nubian's direction, and he recognized ahuman 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 handconvulsively clutched a package. With a bound Monte-Cristo had reachedthe side of the motionless man, and taking him in his strong arms, hecarried him to a small grass plot and carefully laid him down. 

"Ali, " he ordered, "run to the grotto and get some rum. Do not lose aminute, it is a question of life and death. "

The Nubian departed, and Monte-Cristo laid his hand upon the woundedman's breast. 

"He still lives, " he exclaimed, breathing more freely, "and with God'shelp we will save him. "

Suddenly a terrible cry was heard behind him, and Bertuccio stammeringlyexclaimed:

"Oh, sir, it is the wretch, the murderer! Do you not recognize him?"

The count bent over the wounded man, and washing the blood from his facehe exclaimed in horror:

"Really, it is Benedetto!"

"Back, sir, " cried Bertuccio in a rage, as he swung his pickaxe, "I willcrush the viper's skull. "

The pick cleaved through the air, but before it descended onBenedetto's head, the count had grasped it, and with a powerful movementhurled it into the sea. 

"Bertuccio, " he said coldly, "what right have you to play the judge inmy presence?"

"Oh, sir, pardon. Anger overcame me. Benedetto burned Assunta, mysister-in-law and his foster mother, so as to get her money; he onlylived from robbery and murder. "

"He is a man, he must be saved. "

Ali came now with the rum. The count poured a few drops into Benedetto'sthroat, Haydee rubbed his temples, and in a few minutes the wretchuttered a deep sigh and his lips moved, though his eyes still remainedclosed. 

The count examined the wound. 

"He will live, " he said decisively. "The wound is not dangerous. "

"It would be better for society if he died, " hissed Bertuccio. 

"Bertuccio, " said the count sternly, "get some water and wash out thiswound. "

"But, count, I--"

"Yes, you! Either you obey, or we shall separate. "

Bertuccio hurried away and soon returned with some water. He trembledwith rage, as he washed Benedetto's wound, but he did not dare to say aword. 

Haydee had in the meantime loosened a cord from the package anddiscovered a small oaken box, which she tried in vain to open. The countnoticed it, and after he had carefully examined the lock, he murmured:

"I will try to open it with my key. "

He really succeeded in doing it. The cover flew open, and the countcould not repress a cry of surprise when he saw the pile of gold andbank-notes. 

"Count, " said Bertuccio, approaching, "he is opening his eyes. "

"Did he recognize you?"

"Oh, no, he is still confused. "

"So much the better. Keep yourself at a distance. He will recover. "

"What is this?" exclaimed Bertuccio, catching a glimpse of the contentsof the box. "It must be the spoils of some new robbery. "

"Undoubtedly, " said the count; "but, stay, there is a letter under thesebank-notes which might clear up the mystery. "

"My son, " ran the letter, "I will send this letter to you on the eve ofmy departure from France. You have forgiven me. To-morrow I shall seeyou for the last time. May God be with you and place you under hisprotection. Your mother, H. D. "

Monte-Cristo shuddered. 

"Hermine Danglars, " he muttered to himself. "Poor, poor woman!"

Shoving Bertuccio aside, he bent over Benedetto, and said, in a voicewhich penetrated the deepest depths of the soul:

"Benedetto, hear me!"

A shiver ran through the wretch, but the dark eyes remained closed. 

"Benedetto, " continued Monte-Cristo, sternly, "you have killed yourmother. Shame upon you, parricide. "

This time Benedetto opened his eyes in terror, and in a faint voicemurmured:

"My mother! Yes, yes. Mercy!"

Monte-Cristo rose. His gaze met that of Bertuccio, in which he read asilent question. 

"Are you still going to be charitable?" asked Bertuccio's eye. "Thewretch has murdered the mother who bore him? Does he deserve mercy?"

Just then a merry sailor-song was heard. The bark of the Ice Birdappeared on the beach to fetch the passengers. 

"Jacopo, " exclaimed Monte-Cristo aloud, "listen!"

Jacopo stood up in the bark, and looked closely at the count, who calledout some words in Maltese dialect to him. 

Immediately a sailor jumped from the bark into the sea and swam towardthe Ice Bird, while Jacopo with the two other sailors jumped on land. 

"Bring some provisions from the grotto, " ordered the count. 

Jacopo and Ali did as they were told, and while the sailors carried theprovisions to the bark, the count whispered a few words to the Nubian. Ali approached the wounded man, and, taking him in his strong arms, hecarried him to the bark and placed him on the floor of the same. Thecount then took the box and threw it near Benedetto; he then tookHaydee's arm in his own and went back with her, while Ali plunged intothe water up to his waist and laid hold of the bark. 

"Benedetto, " cried the count aloud, "you have blasphemed God. You havetrodden under foot all human and divine laws. Men cannot punish you; mayGod weigh guilt and punishment with each other! Ali, do your duty. "

Ali, with a powerful movement, pushed the bark from the shore. The tideseized the light vessel, and in a short while it disappeared from thehorizon. 

"Oh, count, " stammered Bertuccio, beside himself, "you have given himhis life. "

"If Almighty God wishes him to be saved, let it be so. He has the rightto punish and forgive, " replied the count, solemnly. 

The yacht was now approaching the shore, in obedience to the command thesailor had brought, and, with Haydee and the seaman, the count got onboard, and solemnly said:

"Bertuccio and Ali, do your duty!"

Haydee looked wonderingly at her husband; he took her head in his handsand earnestly said:

"My darling, I bury the past at this hour--the grottoes of Monte-Cristoare no more. "

A column of fire rose from the island--a loud report was heard, and thetreasure chamber of the Cardinal Spada was annihilated. 

Ali and Bertuccio hurried to the yacht, and the Ice Bird flew with allsails toward the open sea. 

"Oh, darling, " whispered Haydee, blushing deeply, "you have beenmerciful, and I thank you doubly for it. What you do for your fellow-menGod will return to your child. Yes, I speak the truth. God has given methe great happiness to become a mother. Kiss me, my beloved. "

CHAPTER XXI

WITH THE PANDURS

In the forties, Signora Aurora Vertelli was the owner of a place nearthe Scala, at Milan, called the Casino. The Casino was the meeting-placeof the Austrian officers, for at that time the old Lombardian city wasgarrisoned by Austrians, under the special command of Marshal Radetzky. 

Count Joseph Wenzel Radetzky is a celebrated historical personage, andthe words of a contemporary: "Radetzky is a great hunter before theLord; he drives the people before him like the hunter game, " describehim sufficiently. If Radetzky was a tyrant, his officers were a tortureto Italy, and it often happened that the Bohemian and Croatian officerswhipped women and children on the open streets, or else ran a daggerthrough the body of some peaceful citizen. 

Aurora Vertelli, however, enjoyed the protection of the Austrian police!What the services were that she rendered the State is not known; but, nevertheless, the "handsome Aurora, " as she was called, was in greatfavor at police headquarters. The eating at the Casino was celebrated, the wines were second to none, and dice and cards were provided for the"spiritual" amusement of the guests. 

An Italian was seldom seen in the Casino, and those that came weregenerally those who had taken to the Austrian army. 

On the night of the 15th to the 16th of March, 1848, lively scenes werebeing enacted in the Casino, and neither Aurora Vertelli herself nor oldMajor Bartolomeo Batto, who was one of the regular customers at theplace, could restrain the excited guests. 

"What is going on at Vienna, Lieutenant Pasky?" asked a young officer. "Have the riots there any importance?"

"No, thank God, " replied the lieutenant; "the _canaille_ will soon bebrought to their senses. "

"H'm, if the emperor would only be strict, " said another. 

"Ah, bah! the mob has no importance. "

"And the cannons generally prove it. "

"Comrades, " said an elderly officer, approaching the group, "I think theaffair is serious. "

"How so? What has happened?"

"Well, the emperor has made concessions. "

"But that would be a shame. "

"They want to repeal the censorship--"

"That's good. The newspapers could then print what they pleased. "

"The new press-bill is said to be very liberal. "

"A bullet and a rope are the best laws. "

"Besides that, the delegates of the German kingdom and theLombardian-Venetian kingdom are going to be called in--"

A storm of anger rose, and a rough Austrian nobleman, Hermann vonKirchstein, passionately exclaimed:

"Comrades, the emperor can do what he wishes, but we shall do what wewish, and if the Italians make a move we shall crush them. "

As if to add strength to his words, Herr von Kirchstein crushed thewineglass he held in his hand, amid the applause of his comrades. 

"Bravo!" they cried. 

Count Hermann looked proudly about and said:

"Only as late as yesterday I had an opportunity to show the Milanese whois master here. "

"Tell us, comrade; tell us all about it, " came from all sides. 

"Well, last evening, about six o'clock, I was going across the PiazzaFontana, when two confounded Italians--a lady about forty years of age, dressed in deep mourning, and a young sixteen-year-old boy--approachedme. 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 didnot move, and you can understand--"

The count made a gesture signifying that the lady had lost her balance, and, amid the coarse laughter of his comrades, he continued:

"I went ahead, but the young booby ran after me, cursed me, and tore mycigar out of my mouth. I drew my sword, but the woman clutched my armand cried: 'You killed the father on the 3d of January, on the Corsa deiServi--spare the son. '

"With my sword, " continued Count Hermann, "I struck the woman over thehands until she let go of my arm, and then I broke the young fellow'sskull. The people crowded around, and the police arrived, to whom I toldthe affair. "

"Did the dastardly wretch lie dead on the ground?" asked a youngofficer. 

"No, the police took him away; but after the explanations I gave, Ithink he must be tried at once; in urgent cases a criminal can be hangedinside of twenty-four hours. "

"Antonio Balbini was strangled this morning, and nailed to the wall ofthe prison, " said a deep voice, suddenly. 

Every one turned toward the speaker, who continued in a calm voice:

"As I tell you, Count Hermann--nailed to the wall. Ah, we have splendidmethods here to humiliate the mob. About eight days ago two traitorswere fried in hot oil, and if they are to be buried alive _a laproviguere_--"

"What is that?" asked a captain, sipping sorbet. 

"What? You don't know what that is?" said the first speaker, in hardmetallic tones. "One would think you had just come from another world. "

The speaker was an Italian, about thirty years of age, of extraordinarybeauty. Deep black, sparkling eyes lighted up the finely-chiselledfeatures, and perfect white teeth looked from under the fresh rosy lipsand raven black mustache. 

The Marquis Aslitta was since two months in Milan, and, as was said, hadformerly lived at Naples. He carefully refrained from meeting hiscountrymen, and appeared to be a faithful servant of foreign tyrants. 

While he spoke the officers appeared to feel uncomfortable, and if theylaughed, it sounded forced and unnatural. 

"To come back to the _proviguere_, " said Aslitta, laughing loudly. "Theprisoners are chained, their legs are broken, and they are hurled headforemost into a pit about four feet deep. Then the pit is filled withdirt, leaving the legs exposed up to the knees. It recalls little treesand looks comical. "

Aslitta laughed again; but, singular thing, the laugh sounded likelong-drawn sobs. 

Count Hermann felt his hair stand on end. 

"Let us play cards, " he proposed; but before his comrades could sayanything, a thunderous noise came from the direction of the Scala, mingled with loud cries. 

"Long live La Luciola! Long live Italy!"

The officers hurried out. As soon as the hall was cleared, Aslittastrode toward Major Bartolomeo, and whispered in his ear:

"To-night in the little house on the Porta Tessina. "

CHAPTER XXII

THE QUEEN OF FLOWERS

The Italians have always been born musicians, and in Milan, too, thereare plenty of artists. Among the latter, Maestro Ticellini occupied thefirst place. He had a great deal of talent, wrote charming cavatinas, and his songs were much sought after. He had not composed an opera asyet; and what was the cause of this? Simply because he could find nofitting libretto; the strict censorship always had something to say, andthe most innocent verses were looked upon as an insult to his majesty, the emperor. 

Since a few weeks Ticellini was in a state of great excitement. Salvani, the impresario of the Scala and a friend of Ticellini, had engaged LaLuciola, the star of the opera at Naples, for Milan, and the maestro hadnot been able to find a libretto. 

Dozens of text books had been sent back by the censor; the subjects outof the old and new history were looked down upon, because in all of themallusions were made to tyrants and oppressed people, and while LaLuciola achieved triumphs each evening in the operas of Bellini andDonizetti, Ticellini grew desperate. 

One night as he returned to his home in the Via de Monte an unexpectedsurprise awaited him. His faithful servant stood in front of the doorand triumphantly waved a roll of paper before his eyes. Ticelliniindifferently unrolled the package, but suddenly he broke into a cry ofjoy. He held a libretto in his trembling hands. 

Shutting himself in his room, Ticellini flew over the manuscript. He didnot notice that the binding which held the libretto was tricolored. Andyet they were the Italian colors, white, green and red, the tricolorwhich was looked down upon. 

The title already pleased the maestro. It was "The Queen of Flowers. "The verses were very lucid and melodious, and the subject agreeable. Thequeen of flowers was the rose, which loved a pink, whereas the pink wasenamored of a daisy. After many entanglings the allegory closed with theunion of the pink and the daisy, and the rose generously blessed thebond. All was joy and happiness, and as soon as Ticellini had finishedreading, he began to compose. 

The part of the daisy was made for the high soprano of La Luciola, thepink must be sung by Signor Tino, the celebrated baritone, and SignoraRonita, the famous contralto, would secure triumphs as the rose. Thesubordinate characters were soon filled, and the next morning, whenTicellini breathlessly hurried to Salvani, he was in a position to laythe outline of the opera before him. 

Salvani, of course, was at first distrustful, but after he assuredhimself that there was nothing treasonable in it, he put the manuscriptin his pocket and went to see the censor. 

The censor received Salvani cordially, and taking his ominous redpencil in his hand, he glanced over the libretto. But no matter how muchhe sought, he could not find a single libellous sentence, and at the endof an hour Salvani was able to bring his friend the news that theperformance of the opera was allowed. 

Ticellini was overjoyed; he worked night and day, and at the end of aweek he appeared before Salvani, waving the completed score triumphantlyin the air. 

While the two friends were sitting at the piano, and Ticellini markedseveral songs and duets, a knock was heard. 

"No one can enter, " said Salvani, springing up; "we wish to be alone. "

"Oh, how polite!" exclaimed a clear, bright voice, and as Salvani andTicellini looked up in surprise they uttered a cry of astonishment:

"Luciola!"

La Luciola was very beautiful. She was slim and tall, about twenty-sevenyears of age, with beautiful black hair and finely-formed features. Heralmond-shaped eyes were likewise dark, but had a phosphorescent gleam, which gave her the name of Luciola, or the fire-fly. She was dressed ina red satin dress, and wore a jaunty black felt hat. There was quite aromantic legend connected with the pretty girl: no one knew from whatcountry she came, since she spoke all the European tongues with equalfacility, and steadfastly refused to say a word about the land of herbirth. She possessed the elegance of a Parisian, the grace of a Creole, and the vivacity of an Italian. Her real name was unknown. She wascalled the heroine of several romantic adventures, though no one couldsay which one of her numerous admirers she preferred. La Luciolaappeared to have no heart. 

Very often La Luciola, dressed in men's clothes, would cross theNeapolitan plains, accompanied by her only friend, a tender, tallblonde. The latter was just as modest as La Luciola was audacious, andshe clung to the proud Amazon like the ivy to the oak. 

A few days before her departure from Naples, a Croatian officer hadinsulted her, and instead of asking a gentleman of her acquaintance torevenge the coarse remark, she herself sought the ruffian, dressed inmen's clothes, and boxed his ears as he sat in a café. Amid the laughterof his comrades the officer left the café, and La Luciola triumphed. 

Such was the person upon whom the fate of the new opera depended, forshe reigned supreme at the Scala, and Salvani as well as Ticellini knewthis. 

While they were both meditating how to secure the Luciola in the easiestway, the songstress said:

"My visit seems to be unwelcome to the gentlemen?"

"Unwelcome?" repeated Salvani. "Signora, what are you thinking of? Onthe contrary, we were just speaking about you and wishing you werehere. "

"Flatterer, " said La Luciola, laughing, and pointing her fingerwarningly at him. 

"No, signora, Salvani says the truth, " Ticellini said, earnestly. "Wewish to ask a great favor of you. "

"That is excellent. I also come to ask for a favor, " replied the diva, springing up hurriedly. "You speak first, and then you shall hear whatbrought me to your office. "

"Oh, signora, " said Ticellini, crossing his hands and falling on oneknee, "my fate lies in your hands. "

"That sounds quite tragical! One would imagine I was Marshal Radetzky. But are you ever going to tell me what is the matter?"

"We--I--" began Salvani, stammering. 

"My dear impresario, " interrupted La Luciola, laughing, "let us makeshort work of it. I will tell you why I came, and, in the meantime, youcan collect your thoughts. Well, then, I am growing tired at La Scala;Donizetti, Bellini, and whatever other names your great composers bear, are very good fellows, but, you know, _toujours perdrix_. "

"Well--and--" asked Salvani, breathlessly, as the diva paused. 

"Well, I must have a new _rôle_ in a new opera or I shall run away, "said La Luciola, firmly. 

Both men uttered a cry of joy. Luciola looked from one to the other andfinally said:

"Does my demand embarrass you?"

"No, luck alone makes us dumb. We intended, signora, to ask you to-dayto take a part in a new opera. "

"Is it possible?" exclaimed La Luciola, clapping her hands with joy. "Who is the composer of the new opera? Gioberto, Palmerelli, or perhapsyou, Ticellini? But stay! before we go any further, I make onecondition: the subject must not be tragical. "

"Oh, tragic opera has long since gone out of fashion. "

"Thank God, you have the same opinion as I. What I should like now wouldbe a spectacular piece, an allegory or something like it--pretty musicand bright verses. "

"Oh, signora!" exclaimed Ticellini, joyfully, "I have got what youwant. The new opera is called the 'Queen of Flowers. '"

"What a pretty title!"

"Your part will be that of the daisy. "

"Beautiful, beautiful!"

"Permit me to play you the first cavatina. "

Ticellini hurried to the piano and began to play. 

Luciola listened attentively and nodded satisfaction as Ticellini sungthe verses. 

"That will do, " she said. "Get everything ready for the rehearsals; Ishall sing the part. "

She went out, and the next day the rehearsals began for the new opera, the first performance of which was to take place on the 15th of May, 1848. 

CHAPTER XXIII

GREEN, WHITE AND RED

The night of the 15th of May arrived, and both Salvani and Ticelliniwere very nervous about the first performance of the "Queen of Flowers. "La Luciola was certainly the pet of the public, but the situation atMilan was such that it was a question whether the performance at theScala would receive any attention. Even the day before, there had beenvery little call for tickets, and Salvani, who had spared no expense tomount the new opera properly, had awful dreams on the night of the 14thabout deficits and bankruptcy. 

At length, on the morning of the 15th, the demand became heavier, andafter a few boxes had been taken, a negro appeared at the box-officeabout eleven o'clock, and pointed at a pack of tickets. 

"Ah--your master desires a box?" asked Salvani, who did not disdain onspecial days to take charge of the box-office. 

The negro laughed, so that the impresario could wonder at his whiteteeth, and shook his head, pointing once more at the tickets. 

"You want two boxes, perhaps?"

Again the negro shook his head. 

"Three boxes?"

"No. "

"My God, are you dumb?"

An expressive look from the Nubian confirmed the insinuation. He put aroll of bank-notes on the package, and made a motion as if he wished toput the latter in his pocket. 

"Do you want to buy the whole package?" asked Salvani, breathlessly. 

"Yes, " nodded the negro. 

The impresario looked doubtingly at him, and said:

"But that is eleven boxes on the first tier, each of which costs fiftylire--"

"Yes. "

"Twenty-two boxes on the third tier, at thirty-six lire; and all theboxes on the fourth tier, thirty boxes at twenty-five lire. "

Again the Nubian nodded. Salvani began to reckon, and excitedlyexclaimed:

"But that is impossible. Are you aware that this is a matter of 2, 848lire?"

Without hesitating, the negro laid the sum of 3, 000 lire in bank-noteson the window and put the tickets in his pocket. Thereupon he drew hisarm under that of the impresario and pointed to the stage. 

"I do not understand, " stammered Salvani. "You want to go on the stage?"

"Yes. "

"Then follow me. "

Salvani walked down a small stairway and soon stood, with the negro, onthe dimly lighted stage. The Nubian walked in front of the prompter'sbox and pointed so expressively toward the parterre and the parquet, that the impresario at once knew what he wanted. 

"You want to buy the rest of the seats unsold?" he hastily asked. 

"Yes. "

"The places cost originally five, four and three lire. "

"Yes. "

"Well, I would be a fool if I did not take a hand in. "

Before the Nubian had departed, he had purchased all of the seats stillto be had, for the round sum of 6, 000 lire, and with head proudly erecthe strode through the streets. 

When Ticellini appeared, Salvani triumphantly pointed to the pile ofbank-notes, and when the maestro anxiously remarked that he thought itmust be a trick of one of his rivals to ruin him, the impresario coollysaid:

"Ticellini, would you be able to raise 6, 000 lire to annihilate Giobertoand Palmerelli?"

The composer was silent. This kind of logic convinced him. 

When the eventful evening came, the Scala looked magnificent. 

For the first time since the Austrian occupation, all the aristocraticladies appeared in full dress. Salvani, as well as the maestro, lookedwonderingly at the audience. Very soon, however, their wonder changed tocuriosity, for the toilets of the ladies were arranged in a peculiarway. Some were dressed entirely in green satin, with green leaves intheir hair; others wore red satin, with red roses, and others againwhite satin and white flowers; and then the ladies were groupedtogether in such a way that the tricolor green, white and red alwaysappeared. Ticellini was a patriot from head to foot, and his heart beatloudly when he saw the Italian tricolor. 

What could it all mean? A revolution? That would destroy all chances ofthe success of his opera, but Ticellini did not think of himself, whenthe fatherland was in question, and he enthusiastically hummed the firstlines of the national hymn:

 _"Chi per la patria muore_ _Vessuto ha assai!"_

 (He who has died for his country has lived long enough. )

The parquet and balcony were filled with students, and only oneproscenium box was still empty. 

A murmur ran through the theatre; the door of the proscenium box wasopened and three persons entered it. 

A tall, majestic man, whose dark locks inclosed a pale face, led a ladyof extraordinary beauty. He was dressed in a frock suit, the lady inpurple silk, with a white sash. A diadem of sparkling emeraldsornamented the finely shaped head, and on her neck and arms diamonds ofthe purest water shone. 

A remarkably handsome child, a boy about eight or nine years, took aseat between the lady and gentleman, and it only needed a casual lookupon 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 hisadjutant. Observant of everything which looked like a manifestation or ademonstration, they threw threatening glances at the colorconstellation, and the confidant of Radetzky immediately sent forSalvani. 

The impresario appeared, excited and trembling. Suppose the adjutantshould forbid the performance?

"What does this mean?" the officer angrily exclaimed. "Have you noticedthe three colors?"

"Your Excellency, I--"

"Well, are you going to answer me?"

"Will your excellency condescend to take a look over the house--"

At the same moment, as Salvani had entered the box, the gentleman in theopposite box had arisen and placed a light blue band over the lady'sshoulders. Simultaneously all the other ladies in the house threw sashesover their shoulders; yellow, blue, black, and brown were the colorswhich met the astonished gaze of the adjutant, and he grumblingly said:

"Wait, _canaille_, I will not be deceived. "

Salvani had hurriedly left. The first notes of the overture ran throughthe house, and loud applause was heard. This time, too, the gentleman inthe proscenium box gave the signal for the applause, but no one appearedto notice it. 

Ticellini hurried to La Luciola's dressing-room. The diva was alreadydressed for her part, and looked so transcendently beautiful that themaestro held his breath. 

"Well, maestro, " said the diva, laughing, "do I please you, and do youthink the opera will be a success?"

"Oh, signora, I have never doubted it, since you consented to take thepart of Marguerite. "

A dark form came from the rear of the dressing-room, and the MarquisAslitta went toward Ticellini. 

"Let me congratulate you, maestro, " he cordially said, offeringTicellini his hand. 

Ticellini hesitated before he took it. Aslitta was looked upon in Milanas a renegade, and therefore Ticellini was very glad when he was calledaway. Bidding good-by to the diva, he hurried back to the stage, andAslitta remained alone with Luciola. 

"Giorgio, " whispered Luciola, giving the marquis her hand, "the eventfulhour has arrived. "

"Thanks, my darling, " murmured the young man; "you are staking yourexistence to save my country--a whole life would not suffice to rewardyou. "

Luciola threw herself into the outstretched arms of Aslitta. 

"You love me, Giorgio?"

"Dearly; you are my goddess, my all. "

"Oh, Giorgio; nothing shall be too difficult for me to do for you. Butgo now, the time has come. "

"And you have forgotten nothing, and will observe the sign?"

"Be easy, I will think of everything. "

"Then farewell; have courage. "

"And hope, " added Luciola, kissing Aslitta. 

At this moment a heavy hand was laid upon Aslitta's shoulder, and aclear voice said:

"Marquis, you should have closed the door. "

Aslitta turned hurriedly about. A man stood in front of him, whoseappearance was very repulsive. 

Count San Pietro had short, red-brown hair, and one of his eyes wasalways closed; a deep blue scar, reaching from the eye to the left ear, disfigured his otherwise handsome face in a horrible manner. Adiabolical smile played upon his lips, and Aslitta grew pale as herecognized the count. 

La Luciola, measuring the count with a stern look, said:

"Count, by what right have you come here?"

A malicious smile was the answer, and then San Pietro audaciously said:

"Who will prevent me from coming in?"

"I!" exclaimed Luciola, passionately. "Depart at once. "

"Ah, you are defending the marquis. "

Aslitta was moved to become angry, but he restrained himself, andlaughingly said:

"Why should not others have the right to admire La Luciola?"

The diva trembled, but a look from Aslitta gave her courage, and, tryingto appear cool, she said:

"Really, count, you frightened me; I hardly recognized you. "

"And the marquis has no need to hide; he can leave that to theconspirators, " remarked the count, with a piercing look. 

Aslitta met the gaze fearlessly, and indifferently answered, evading thequestion:

"Count, have you a box for to-night's performance?"

"No, every place was taken when my servant went to the box-office. "

"Then do me the honor to take a seat in my box. "

"Ah, you were more fortunate than I. "

The manager opened the door leading to the stage-row, and exclaimed:

"Signora, your scene begins. "

"I am coming, " said Luciola, and, passing by the gentlemen, shelaughingly said:

"Good-by, and do not forget to applaud. "

As soon as she had gone, the gentlemen went toward the auditorium, andon the stairs leading to the boxes Pietro paused and hissed:

"Marquis, you know I shall kill you the first chance I have. "

"Really?" asked Aslitta; "have you become so bloodthirsty all of asudden?"

"No evasions, " replied the count. "You love Luciola?"

"Why not?"

"And Luciola loves you?"

"I am not vain enough to imagine your statement to be true. "

"Beware, marquis, " said the count; "I have eyes. "

"So much the better for you. "

"And in the dungeons of Milan there are cells, in which patriots arebroken on the wheel and forced to name their accomplices--"

"Count, " interrupted Aslitta, "there are also dark places in Milan, where Italians who betray their country to the oppressor are shot. "

Stepping into his box, Aslitta closed the door in the count's face, andSan Pietro was forced to go to the marshal's box. 

As San Pietro took his place, La Luciola just appeared on the scene;deafening applause greeted her, and she gratefully bowed. 

"Colonel, " said San Pietro, turning to the adjutant, "I have to give youthe name of a traitor. "

"But not now, " said the colonel, impatiently; "just listen to thatbeautiful duet. "

The duet between the rose and the daisy was magnificently sung. No onenoticed, however, that Luciola threw a look at the gentleman in theproscenium box, directing his attention to that occupied by Radetzky'sadjutant. The unknown arose, and cast his sparkling eyes at San Pietro. He then looked down at the stage again, and La Luciola laughed withsatisfaction. The duet finished amid applause. 

"Colonel, " repeated the count again, "Aslitta conspires with thepatriots, and--"

"To-morrow--to-morrow, count. "

"To-morrow would be too late. "

"Then, in the devil's name, speak now and be done with it. What do youwish?"

"That Aslitta be arrested this evening. "

"Ah, La Luciola is divine; we must secure her for Vienna!" exclaimed thecolonel, enthusiastically. "Will you arrange it?"

"What, your excellency?"

"Are you deaf? We must secure Luciola for Vienna. "

"Have Aslitta arrested, and La Luciola will be a member of the ViennaOpera. "

"Stupid, what interest has La Luciola in Aslitta?"

"She loves him, " hissed the count. 

"What! La Luciola disdains our advances, and falls in love with thisNeapolitan! That is treason. "

"Then your excellency--"

"I give you _carte blanche_; bring Aslitta to the citadel, but notbefore the close of the performance; I wish to hear the opera to theend. "

The adjutant tore a piece of paper from a note-book, wrote a few linesupon it and gave it to San Pietro. The count gave a diabolical laugh. His course was easy now. 

As much as San Pietro had tried, he could not remember whom La Luciolalooked 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 wastorn asunder, and like a dazed person he looked at the gentleman dressedin black. The latter transfixed him likewise. Instinctively the countcoughed and hid his face in his handkerchief. He could not meet the gazeof those coal-black eyes. 

"No, no, " he muttered, anxiously. "No one knows my former name; I wouldbe a fool to get frightened. "

As soon as the first act was over, San Pietro turned to an officer andsaid:

"Do you know the gentleman sitting in the opposite box?"

"Not personally, but from reputation. He is said to be enormously rich. "

"What is his name?"

"The Count of Monte-Cristo; his wife, who is sitting next to him, iswonderfully handsome; they say she is a Greek. The pretty boy is theirson. "

"Thanks, " said San Pietro; and then he muttered to himself: "'Tis he;he has a son! This time he will not escape me. "

"Do you know the count's political opinions?" said San Pietro, after apause. 

"I only know that immediately after the gentleman's arrival from Napleshe sent his negro with his card to Radetzky, asking the marshal to allowhim to pay his respects to him. "

"That is decisive. "

The opera had in the meantime been proceeded with; when the third actbegan a messenger appeared with an order which called the adjutant tothe marshal's house. What could the officers do? The service went beforeeverything else, and they disappeared just as La Luciola, Ruinta, andSignor Tino were singing a beautiful trio. 

At length the last scene came; the rose, the proud queen of flowers, assented to the marriage of the pink and the daisy, and a bower of greenvines was raised before an altar constructed of evergreens. 

Red, white and green! The national colors!

At this moment Monte-Cristo arose and gave the signal. Immediately everyone rose and clapped their hands, and he joyously exclaimed:

"Long live Italy! Long live the national flag!"

And then a loud voice thundered above the tumult:

"_Fuori i barbari!_ Away with the foreigners!"

The next minute the students climbed on to the stage and divided thepalms. A roar of a thousand voices was heard singing the national hymn:

 _"Chi per la patria muore_ _Vessuto ha assai!"_

La Luciola was carried in triumph to her coach by the students; theenthusiastic young men took the horses out of the traces and bore thecarriage along themselves, shouting through the night air:

"Long live La Luciola! Long live Italy!"

CHAPTER XXIV

A FIGHT IN THE STREETS

When the Major von Kirchstein and his comrades, attracted by the noise, rushed out into the street, they saw La Luciola's carriage covered withflags bearing the national colors; the diva and her friend were seatedtherein, and La Luciola enthusiastically cried:

"Oh, Milla, Milla, this is great and sublime!"

"Comrades!" shouted the major in a rage, "follow me. We will capture LaLuciola, and bring her to the citadel!"

Loud applause greeted the major's words, but before he had reached thecoach a hand grasped him by the throat, and a hoarse voice cried in hisear:

"If you touch a hair of La Luciola's head, you are a dead man. "

It was Aslitta. Our readers have already guessed that the marquis wasplaying the part of a Brutus, and La Luciola, who loved him dearly, supported him in his plans. The two fiery natures had become acquaintedat Naples. Luciola's friend, the gentle Milla, had written themysterious libretto and Aslitta had sent it to Ticellini. Edmond Danteshad kept the oath he made upon Monte-Cristo, to be the warm friend ofthe oppressed. He was an admirer of Aslitta, and placed himself at hisservice and the cause he represented. 

Up till now he had never met La Luciola, but when the diva saw at theScala that evening the man whom her lover had talked to her about, shewas seized with a deep emotion. Yes, she recognized and knew the man whotook up the cause of Italy's misery, and had confidence in his abilityto carry out whatever project he undertook. 

As the major uttered the threat against La Luciola, Aslitta recognizedthe danger his love was in. He had already grasped the coach door withhis hand, when he felt himself seized by strong arms and borne to theground. A well-known voice hissed in his ear--the voice of San Pietro:

"We have got you. "

A gag was inserted between Aslitta's lips, his arms and limbs werebound, and two pandours dragged him away, while the count said:

"You know the order; take good care of him! You must answer for theprisoner with your life. "

One of the pandours pressed the muzzle of his gun against Aslitta'sforehead and threateningly said:

"Do not stir or I will blow your brains out. "

Aslitta was obliged to obey. The carriage in which he had been placedstopped, the marquis was lifted out, and the doors of a subterraneandungeon closed behind him. 

CHAPTER XXV

THE MASKS FALL

When the hated Austrian uniforms appeared in the brilliantly lightedstreets, a threatening noise was uttered by the mob, and the studentswho surrounded Luciola's carriage threw themselves upon the officers. 

It was a foolish beginning, for they had no weapons--they only possessedburning patriotism, and their hatred of the foreign oppressor. 

A shot now fell, and at the same time the tall form of Count San Pietroloomed up, giving commands to the soldiers to make the attack--an attackagainst a defenceless crowd of human beings. As soon as the studentsheard the shot, they surrounded the carriage of the diva again. Thelatter tried to encourage the trembling Milla. As for herself, she hadno fear, and though she could not understand Aslitta's absence, she wasfar from imagining the truth. 

Suddenly San Pietro's repulsive features appeared at the carriagewindow, and Luciola's heart ceased beating. 

Had he betrayed Aslitta?

The count had arranged things well. Narrower and narrower grew thecircle about the patriots, and the students tried in vain to draw thecarriage away from the soldiers. 

"Luciola, " said the count, maliciously, "do you still think you canescape me?"

Luciola drew herself up, and casting a look of contempt at the count, she cried, in loud, clear tones:

"Miserable coward!"

San Pietro uttered a cry of rage, and lifted his sword aloof. 

Luciola looked coolly at him; not a muscle of her fine face quivered, but her hand grasped the jewelled hilt of a dagger. 

She did not intend to fall into the villain's hands alive. 

Suddenly, above the roar of the multitude, a voice thundered:

"Benedetto! Murderer! Escaped galley slave--beware! God cannot be mockedat! Shame over you!"

And as these words were heard, Count San Pietro, the favorite ofRadetzky, tremblingly looked in the direction from whence the wordscame, and which sounded to him like the call of the judgment day. On thepedestal of a marble statue opposite to him stood the man he hadrecognized at the Scala, who pointed threateningly at him, andBenedetto, wild with rage, pulled a pistol from his pocket and fired atMonte-Cristo. When the smoke cleared away, Monte-Cristo still stoodthere; at the same time the crowd separated in the centre, and twoharnessed horses were shoved in front of Luciola's carriage. How ithappened no one knew--in an instant the traces were fastened to theshafts, the negro who sat on the box whipped up the horses, and in asecond the carriage rolled away. 

The shots fired after them did not reach them, and in a few minutes theyhad disappeared. 

"Death and thunder, " hissed Benedetto, "this one at least shall notescape me"; and foaming with rage, he threw himself upon the count. 

The latter let him come. Benedetto put the muzzle of his pistol to thecount's breast, but at the same moment the iron arm of the latter hadclutched the scoundrel by the throat, and with a hoarse laugh Benedettolet his weapon fall and sank upon his knees. Quick as thought the countseized the weapon, and placing it against Benedetto's forehead, said ina loud, clear voice:

"All you people who are with this villain whom you call Count San Pietroought, at least, to know whom your ally is. Listen attentively, gentlemen. The man to whom you bend the knee is an escaped galleyslave--he murdered his mother!"

A cry of horror came from the lips of the crowd, and the Croatians, whose roughness was proverbial, turned with horror from the scoundrel. 

Monte-Cristo threw the pistol on the ground, and, getting down from thepedestal, he walked slowly through the lines of the retreating soldiers. 

As soon as Benedetto felt himself free he sprang up, and, turning to thecrowd, he hissed:

"Do not believe him, he lied; he is an enemy of Austria! How will you beable to look Marshal Radetzky in the face, if you allow him to escape?"

The name of Radetzky acted like magic upon the soldiers. They turnedpale and rushed in pursuit of Monte-Cristo. 

They had caught up to the count, when he suddenly vanished from theirgaze. To the bystanders it seemed as if a wall had opened to give himprotection. 

But soon the riddle was solved. The wall through which the Count ofMonte-Cristo had escaped belonged to the Vertelli house, and all theofficers knew that the building contained several secret passages. 

"Follow me, " said Benedetto, angrily, entering the Casino. 

On the threshold Major Bartolomeo met him. Benedetto grasped the oldveteran by the throat, and shaking him like a leaf, he exclaimed:

"Wretch, you have betrayed us; but you shall pay for it!"

"I, " stammered the major, "I--am--innocent. "

"Oh, no deception. I know you. How long is it since you called yourselfCavalcanti, and played the part of my father? Come, men, take this manprisoner. I will report to the marshal about it. "

CHAPTER XXVI

LOVE OF COUNTRY

Led by Ali's strong hands the noble steeds flew along the streets ofMilan like the wind. La Luciola appeared now to have changed roles withMilla, for she wept bitterly. 

"Oh, Milla, " groaned the diva, "Aslitta is surely dead, or else he wouldhave kept his word, and if I have lost him my life will be at an end. "

"But, Eugenie, " consoled Milla, "why fear the worst always? I--"

The sudden stoppage of the coach caused Milla to pause. The negro sprangfrom the box, opened the door and motioned with his hand to the ladiesto descend. 

"Come, Milla, " said La Luciola, "wherever we are, we are under theprotection of a powerful friend. "

They were ushered into a beautifully furnished hallway, which led to aroom furnished with heavy velvet draperies. A man with gray hair andaquiline nose, our old friend Bertuccio, received the ladies with a deepbow. 

"Signora, " he said, turning to Luciola, "have no fear; you are in thehouse of a friend. Follow me. "

La Luciola and Milla accepted the invitation and uttered a cry ofsurprise. They had entered a room decorated with the finest frescoes andhung with the richest silk and satin tapestries. In the centre of theroom was a tent of blue silk under which sat a lady of extraordinarybeauty, the same one who had attracted such attention at the Scala. 

"Welcome, sisters, " said Haydee in a gentle voice as she came towardthem, "I was expecting you. "

La Luciola and Milla bent over to kiss the white hand she extendedtoward them, but Haydee would not permit it, and pressing her lips tothe young girl's forehead she drew them both to the divan. 

"You have acted courageously, sister, " said Haydee, turning to Luciola, "but I was not anxious about you. He told me he would watch over you. "

La Luciola understood whom she meant by this "he, " and she timidlyreplied:

"Madame, you seem to know all about the terrible affair. Would youpermit me a question?"

"Gladly. Ask without fear; I will answer you. "

La Luciola hesitated a moment and then firmly said:

"Madame, there is a patriot in Milan who is putting his life at stakefor the freedom of Italy. He offered his breast to the minions ofRadetzky--"

"You are speaking of the Marquis Aslitta, " said Haydee, gently. 

"Yes, of him, and if you knew my past you would understand that it isthe love I bear for him which keeps me alive. "

"Speak freely, sister, " whispered the handsome Greek, "perhaps I canhelp you. "

"I am a Frenchwoman by birth, " said the diva, timidly. "My youth waspassed in the capital. I was courted and petted, and yet I was nothappy. My father, occupied with his financial operations, did not botherhimself about me. My mother was just as unhappy as I was. I would havebecome desperate if a dear friend had not clung to me, " and putting herarm about Milla's waist, the diva continued:

"We were both devoted to music. It was a substitute for happiness to me, and in the empire of harmony I tried to forget my barren life. A certaintrouble happened to me; in a twinkling all the ties which bound me tohome were broken, and I fled, with misery and desperation in my heart!Madame, I was then hardly twenty, but virtue, honesty and love werealready to me empty words!"

"Poor sister, " murmured Haydee, "how you must have suffered. "

"Yes, I suffered greatly, " continued Luciola, with tears in her eyes. "The world appeared to be a desert, and so I devoted myself to art. InNaples I discovered that there was something besides the applause of thecrowd and one's own ambition! A group of young Italian noblemen had cometo Naples to free their brothers from the tyranny of the Austrianoppressors. One night we heard a loud noise. Not having anything tolose, I had my horse harnessed and rode in the direction of the cry. Milla insisted upon accompanying me. When we reached the spot, a bloodyfight was going on. We saw shining uniforms. It was at Crotona inCalabria. On a ledge stood a young man, swinging a sword and urging hiscomrades on against the Austrians. A shot was fired and the young manfell. I urged my horse on toward the spot where I had last seen him. Theunhappy man had fallen down a precipice. With the help of my strongtunic, Milla and I succeeded in drawing him up. We brought him to myhouse and I cared for him tenderly. Giorgio Aslitta awoke to new life. His first words, as he gained sensibility, were:

 _"Chi per la patria muore_ _Vessuto ha assai!"_

"Ah, the battle hymn of the Italians, " interrupted Haydee, her eyesglistening. 

"Yes; and when I heard these words I was saved! I believed in man again, and no love song ever sounded so sweet to me as that patriotic hymn. "

CHAPTER XXVII

SHADOWS OF THE PAST

Hardly had Luciola uttered the last words, than a deep voice said:

"Eugenie Danglars, I thank you in the name of humanity! The past isforgiven!"

The diva turned affrightedly around. The Count of Monte-Cristo stoodbefore her, leading his son by the hand. 

"Oh, how grateful I am to you, " said Luciola, sobbing. "You recognizedme?"

"I have never lost sight of you, " replied Monte-Cristo, earnestly; "andthe name you bear makes me a debtor to you. "

"You shame me, count--you my debtor?"

"Rest satisfied with what I have told you. I am not at liberty to revealthe sorrowful past to you. But be assured that if I have ever caused yougrief, it was because I am the instrument of a higher power. "

"You know something about my parents. I beseech you, do not hideanything from me, " implored Luciola. "I know that my father lives, and--"

"One moment, " interrupted Monte-Cristo, giving Haydee a wink. 

Immediately the young woman put her hand upon the boy's shoulder andled him out. 

"I know that my father is doing Stock Exchange business in Germany, "continued Luciola, "but my poor mother--"

"Your mother lives too, " interrupted the count, sorrowfully, "though Ido not know whether you will ever see her again. "

"I do not understand, " stammered La Luciola. 

"Listen, my child, and be strong. Have you recognized the wretch whocalls himself Count San Pietro?"

"Recognized? No; he is a wretch who merits the contempt of every one. "

"I thought Eugenie Danglars was shrewder than that. Of course his scardisfigures his face so much as to make it almost unrecognizable. Who wasit, Eugenie, who, in former years, had the audacity to ask your hand inmarriage, and then--"

"Prince Cavalcanti!" exclaimed La Luciola, horror-stricken. 

"Yes, if you wish to call him thus; in reality, though, he is theescaped galley slave and murderer, Benedetto. "

"But what has the wretch to do with my mother?"

"Unfortunately, more than you think; to rob your mother of her treasure, a full million, the monster plunged a dagger in her breast--"

"Oh, the miserable coward! But you told me my mother lived--"

"Yes, she lives! The murderer did not strike the heart as he hadintended, and, after months of agony, the poor woman recovered. "

"Thank God! But where is she? I want to go to her and throw myself ather feet. My love will make her forget her grief, " exclaimed Luciola, passionately. 

"That is impossible just now. Your mother had intended to enter aconvent, but chance just happened to throw her in Valentine deVillefort's way. You know her?"

"Oh, certainly; Valentine, the only one whom I love to remember amongall my past acquaintances. "

"Well, then, Valentine is now Madame Morrel. They left France and wentto India. They needed a governess for their little daughters, and so sheasked Madame Danglars to take the position. "

"Poor mother, " muttered Luciola, sorrowfully. "How hard it must havebeen for her to take a dependent position. "

"Madame Danglars, " said the count, "accepted the offer with thanks, andshe tenderly loves Valentine and her daughters. "

"How long has my mother been in India?"

"About three years. "

"And do you know where she is?"

"I do not know Morrel's present address, but expect a letter from himsoon. "

Just then the deep tones of a bell were heard, and Monte-Cristo arose. 

"My child, " he solemnly said, "whatever your past has been, you haveexpiated it a thousand times, and you deserve the love of a humane andhonest man. "

"Ah, you recall Aslitta to me--where is he?"

Monte-Cristo sorrowfully shook his head. 

"Eugenie, the Marquis d'Aslitta was arrested two hours ago. "

"Arrested. Oh, my God! That is worse than death. "

"All is not lost yet. "

"Where is he?"

"In the citadel. "

"Count, rescue him. You are superhuman. But tell me who betrayed him?"

"Benedetto. "

Luciola uttered a cry of horror. 

"I will do what I can, " continued the count, "to rescue him. "

"A thousand thanks; I believe you. "

The count went to the door and called:

"Spero. "

The handsome boy immediately appeared, and looked inquiringly at hisfather. 

"Come with me, " said the count. "You are still a child, but from thisday forth you enter life. Courage and devotion to a just cause make theweak strong. Should I die before my work is done, then take my place. "

A pressure of a silver bell brought Ali to the count. 

"Are all here?" he asked. 

The Nubian nodded. 

"Ali, you know what you have to do. As soon as the slightest traitorousvoice is heard, you give the signal. "

Ali again nodded; the count shoved the curtain aside and disclosed asecret staircase. 

"Spero, conduct La Luciola, " he ordered, as he descended the stairs, followed by Spero and the diva. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE CONSPIRATORS

Arriving at the foot of the stairs, Monte-Cristo entered a large hall, in which several hundred men were assembled. They all rose up from theirseats, and, taking off their hats, greeted the count with loud cries of:

"Long live Italy!"

Monte-Cristo approached a white-haired old man, the Marquis ofSante-Croce, and asked him to preside over the assembly. Sante-Crocenodded, and began his address:

"Friends and patriots, " he said, "the long-wished-for day has come. Areyou ready to defend the flag?"

"So help us God! Out with the foreigners!" was shouted from all sides. 

"Good! Now listen to what our noble friend, the Count of Monte-Cristo, has to tell us!"

The marquis took his seat, and the count, unrolling a paper, said in anearnest voice:

"I can bring you a piece of news which Marshal Radetzky has justreceived; a revolution has broken out in Vienna, and at this very hourthe viceroy is leaving Milan. "

A murmur of astonishment ran through the assembly. 

"My couriers, " continued the count, "were quicker than the emperor's, and in consequence of that I am better informed than the officials. Theemperor has bowed to the necessity of the situation, and made importantconcessions--"

"No concessions!" said a voice; "we want freedom!"

"Patience, " said Monte-Cristo. "The emperor has repealed the censorship;the new press law is very liberal, and the representatives of the Germanand Lombard-Venetian provinces have been convoked. "

The astonishment was now general. Loud cries of "Impossible!impossible!" were heard. 

"And when will the convocation take place?" asked Sante-Croce. 

"Unfortunately not so soon--on the 3d of July, " said the count, sorrowfully. 

Angry murmurs arose. 

"They wish to mock us, " said a young man. "Radetzky's minions havemurdered my brother; I demand revenge!"

"My mother was wounded at Corsa, " said a second. "No compromises: war!"

"Yes, war to the knife!" shouted the whole assembly. 

"One moment!" exclaimed Monte-Cristo, in a tone of command. "I know howangry you all are, and yet counsel you to reflect. A nation which iseager for independence, is strong and powerful, but your oppressors areas 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 awall, the allies upon whom you count will desert you. You will fallagain into the hands of the enemy, and the heavy yoke will becomeheavier. Charles Albert, the king of Sardinia, will betray you as soonas his ends have been served. Do you still desire to carry out yourideas?"

Monte-Cristo's words sounded prophetic. The patriots could notdissimulate the impression they made. But their opinions did not change. 

"And if the worst should come!" said one, courageously, "I would ratherdie than hesitate any longer. To arms!"

"To arms, then!" repeated the Marquis of Sante-Croce, solemnly, "and mayGod be with us!"

"But where is Aslitta? He must lead us, " some cried. 

La Luciola advanced. 

"The patriot Aslitta has been imprisoned, " she sorrowfully said; "he islying in the citadel. "

A cry of rage arose. 

"Let us rescue him, " came from all sides. "Let us storm the citadelbefore they murder him. "

"Yes, let us rescue him, " said Monte-Cristo. "Let the fight beginto-morrow! To arms in the name of humanity and freedom!"

Suddenly a man arose from the crowd, who had heretofore remained silent, and casting a look at the count, he slowly said:

"We hardly know you. What guarantee will you give us that you won'tbetray us?"

"The man is right, " the count replied. "Sante-Croce, here is my ownchild. Take Spero with you. Let him vouch for his father with his head!"

Sante-Croce refused to accept the guarantee, but Monte-Cristo was firm. The boy, with proudly uplifted head, strode toward the old man and said:

"I shall accompany you. My father has taught me to do my duty. "

With enthusiastic cries the patriots crowded about the handsome lad, andMonte-Cristo felt his heart throb with joy as he looked at Spero. 

"And I, too, will accompany you!" exclaimed La Luciola. "Italy must befreed, and Aslitta rescued. "

CHAPTER XXIX

FATHER AND SON

Benedetto, who had been pushed into the open sea in a frail bark by theCount of Monte-Cristo, had been miraculously rescued by some fishermen, and when the murderer recovered consciousness his first glance fell onthe box which stood near his bed. The contents were undisturbed, thepoor fishermen had not thought of opening the box which the Count ofMonte-Cristo had closed again, and thus the world stood open to thewretch. 

His viperous instincts had not deserted him. One evening as Benedettolay faint and weak on the straw, he heard low murmurs of conversation inthe neighboring room. He discovered that his benefactors belonged to apatriotic league similar to the Carbonari, whose object was to freeItaly. On this particular evening they were discussing the question ofshipping arms and ammunition to their countrymen. 

The next day Benedetto, with tears in his eyes, told them that he had todepart at once, as he was expected at Lucca by a friend of his. Thehonest fishermen took cordial leave of him. He arrived at Lucca, gotsome elegant clothing there, and went to Milan, where he representedhimself as Count San Pietro. His first visit was to Radetzky, to whom hedenounced the fishermen who had saved his life. Radetzky took advantageof the traitor's story, captured the fishermen, had them tried bycourt-martial, and then shot. From that moment San Pietro became afavorite of the marshal. 

The Major Bartolomeo had been formerly a croupier in a large gamblinghouse at Lucca. Where he got his major's title from, no one knew; evenhis mistress, the beautiful Aurora Vertelli, was reticent on this point. When Bartolomeo came back from Paris and threw his winnings, amountingto fifty thousand francs, into the lap of the handsome Aurora Vertelli, the practical beauty said:

"Bartolomeo, suppose we open a dining-room too. You have been a croupierlong enough--let us try to turn over the fifty thousand francs. "

Bartolomeo gleefully assented to this proposal. They opened amagnificent place, and were soon making money hand over fist. Yet--noluck without a shadow--one evening, as Bartolomeo was receiving hisguests, a tall, slim young man, whose face was disfigured by a scar, approached him, and laying his hand upon his shoulder, whispered in hisear:

"Good-evening, father. "

The major trembled, and, looking with affright at the stranger, stammered:

"I do not know you, sir--it would be a great honor to me--but--"

The stranger laughed loudly, and, conducting the major to a neighboringroom, impressively said:

"My dear sir, let us be candid--do you remember the name of Cavalcantiwhich you once wrongfully bore?"

The major grew pale, and the stranger continued unmercifully:

"If the officials were to find out that you were once a counterfeiter, it might go hard with you. Your license would be revoked, andbesides--well, you understand. "

The major looked about him in astonishment--who was the man who knew thesecrets of his past life?

"Well, father?" mockingly said Benedetto. 

"Father, father, " repeated the major, dazed. "You are not--"

He mechanically opened his arms to press Benedetto to his heart. 

"Not necessary, " said the latter, laughing. "We are not in the Count ofMonte-Cristo's house, and can dispense with tenderness. "

The major sighed--for a further sum of fifty thousand francs he wouldhave embraced ten Andreas. 

"But who are you, anyhow?" he finally asked. "I thought I had heard thatyou--"

"Beware!" exclaimed Benedetto. "Do not refer to the past; here I am theCount of San Pietro!"

"The confidant--" stammered the major. 

"Of Radetzky, " added Benedetto. 

"But as an Italian--"

"Keep silent and listen to me. Either you do as I say, or else Idenounce you to the marshal, " said Benedetto in a rough voice, and asthe major bowed his head, the wretch explained to him what he wished ofhim. It was nothing less than to play the part of a spy. 

One can call one's self a major, even play the part of a loving fatherfor a sum of fifty thousand francs, and yet not be a traitor to one'scountry, and Bartolomeo, in spite of his being a criminal, was an ardentpatriot; but when the count calmly said he would have Radetzky close theCasino, he gave in. 

From that day the major tried to drive the Italians away from hisCasino. He was pompous and disrespectful to his countrymen and politeand cordial to the Austrian officers, so that the latter were at lengththe only ones who came, and San Pietro's spy had very little news toreport. 

Aslitta, who was playing a double game, was the only one who could notbe driven away. One day he took Bartolomeo aside, told him he knew hisposition exactly and would help him to deceive San Pietro and free Milanof the tyrant. 

Bartolomeo, who until now found himself despised by his countrymen, wasoverjoyed; he threw himself at the feet of Aslitta, acknowledged him ashis deity and vowed that he would follow him at command. 

Bartolomeo arose, and as he did so he secretly resolved to square hisaccount with Benedetto in such a way as to serve his country. He soonbecame the most clever of Aslitta's emissaries, and soon picturedhimself as one of the most illustrious patriots of his country bedeckedwith laurels. 

But fortune makes rapid strides. Through certain peculiar eventsBenedetto turned his attention to Bartolomeo and caused a strict watchto be kept upon him, and when on the evening of the 15th of March he sawhim vanish from the Casino he realized all. 

Night was already far advanced when he reached the damp subterraneancell of Bartolomeo and rattled the rusty hooks that held the bolts. Themajor having fallen into a pleasant revery in which he beheld visions ofhis future greatness as a martyr to duty's cause, raised his eyes andshrank back as he saw the three men, one of whom carried a cane tippedwith hair of an unusual design. 

"Get up, you old fool, " cried the one who carried the cane, addressingthe prisoner, "follow us!"

Bartolomeo rose without a murmur, and, arranging his disordered uniform, stepped between the two soldiers, who bore torches, and who rudelypushed him down a dark stair. 

He was no coward, but yet he felt as though he would rather ascend towhere he could at least enjoy the sunshine than go further down where itbecame darker and colder. They walked a considerable distance along darkpassages, and halted in front of a rickety iron door. A huge key wasthrust into the keyhole and slowly the bolts sprang back. 

Accompanied by his guides, Bartolomeo stepped into a gloomy cavern--thetorture-chamber. Heavy chains hung on the walls, blocks, tourniquets, thumbscrews, and other implements of torture lay upon the floor, whilethe corners contained a variety of others which the major could notrecognize. 

"Sit down, " commanded the bearer of the cane, pointing to a block; asBartolomeo hesitated, a well-directed blow caused him to accelerate hismovements. Thereupon the man withdrew, leaving the major and thesoldiers behind. The prisoner gazed timidly upon his jailers, andmurmured:

"Poor prospects for me. "

Although the remark was scarcely audible, a heavy blow from one of thesoldiers caused him to stagger, and for the next fifteen minutes heremained silent. 

At last the door was again opened and Benedetto entered; at a sign thesoldiers withdrew; to his dismay, Bartolomeo saw his former son standingbefore him. 

Benedetto wore the uniform of an Austrian officer, a kalpak was strappedover his forehead and his coat bedecked with costly gold lace. From hisbelt hung a dagger, whose handle was inlaid with jewels, which waspartly concealed by the flowing mantle that covered his shoulders. Assoon as he entered he threw off the mantle and posed, as if to dazzleBartolomeo with the splendor of his attire. 

"You know, " he began, without wasting any words, "that you need expectno mercy from me. "

The major remained silent, his speech failed him through the brusquemanner in which he was addressed. Taking advantage of the situation, Benedetto continued:

"You have betrayed me. Don't deny it--I know all. "

"I!" stammered the major, confused. 

"Yes, you!--the virago has exposed you. "

This remark roused the nobler qualities of Bartolomeo. He was astoundedat the impudence of the knave who dared to call Aurora a virago. 

"Be silent!" he cried, angrily; "and do not malign the character of apure woman--you red-headed scoundrel!"

Benedetto moved as if to rise, but on second thoughts he remainedseated, and burst into a hearty laugh. 

"Your immutable confidence in your wife is to be envied, but really itis out of place here. Aurora Vertelli has confessed to me what you willdoubtless deny. I forced her to admit the truth at the point of thepistol. "

The major grew pale, and beneath his clinched lips a terrible feelingraged. 

"Base coward! to wring a confession from a woman in such a way. "

"Enough--cease your idle talk, " cried Benedetto, stamping his footnervously. "Tell me, where do the so-called patriots hold theirmeetings? Do not hesitate. Aslitta is a prisoner like yourself, and Idesire to know the truth. "

"I do not know, " replied the major, with a sinister smile. 

"You don't say so. I am sorry for you, for I believed that your memorywould come to the rescue, " said Benedetto, casting a knowing glance atthe implements of torture. 

Bartolomeo's heart beat fast. He knew that Benedetto was capable of anycrime. Not a muscle of his face trembled as Benedetto saidthreateningly:

"So you will not speak!"

Bartolomeo cast a look of contempt toward him, and exclaimed: "Go to thedevil!"

Benedetto clinched his fist and held it in the face of the major. 

"Did you not understand me? Look here! You see those beautiful toys?"pointing to the implements of torture. "I will dismember you if youhesitate longer!"

"Tell me, what did you want, " demanded the major, with a shrug of hisshoulders, "at the time when you introduced me into the salon of theCount of Monte-Cristo?"

A cry of rage, uttered by Benedetto, interrupted him. 

"Do not mention that name!" exclaimed the bandit, gritting his teeth. "If I kill you off and slay Aslitta it will only be to wreak myvengeance upon that man, whom I despise. Oh, he called me a galley slaveonce--the murderer!"

And he stopped short, his voice half choked with rage. Bartolomeotrembled visibly; and to humble him the more, Benedetto spat in hisface. 

The major scarcely regarded this last insult. He was busied with manyreflections. How would it be if he tried to overpower Benedetto?

"Well, I am waiting, " said San Pietro, after a pause; "will you speak?"

"No. "

"You know that Aslitta is in my power, and you will die like him if youremain headstrong. "

"Listen to me, Benedetto, " said the major, earnestly. "I have lied anddefrauded, but never will I consent to become a traitor to my country!"

"Well, then, come along!" cried Benedetto, seizing the major by theshoulder and shoving him to a corner of the closet. There stood an oldwardrobe. Benedetto opened the door, and, by the flickering light of thetorches, Bartolomeo saw the dim outlines of a human head, which stoodout like a silhouette from the wall. 

"Do you see that apparatus?" he asked. 

"Yes. "

"And do you know its purpose?"

"No. "

"Then mark well what I say--you shall soon know! About a century ago anItalian nobleman was deceived by his wife, who had a liaison with one ofhis pages. The nobleman discovered it, but pretended ignorance in orderto complete his plans for the destruction of both. One day he presentedthe page with a beautifully wrought helmet. As soon as the present wasreceived, the page placed it upon his head, and, lo! it fitted him soperfectly 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 andcaused the helmet to drop over the head, thus choking him. "

"Well, " replied Bartolomeo, in suspense. 

"Well, in this closet you will find the counterpart of that beautifulhelmet. If you refuse to accede to my demands I shall summon aid andhave you placed in the closet. A delicate attachment will push thehelmet into place, and after your head has been placed inside, you willdie a most horrible slow death by starvation, and that indeed is aterrible way to die. "

"I am resigned, " was the quick response of the major. With a stronggrasp he seized Benedetto, who was unprepared for the attack, and pushedhim into the wardrobe. The ominous helmet encircled his head, and, despite his struggles, he could not free himself. 

Bartolomeo stopped for a moment; being a prudent man, he at once foresawwhat was to be done. Throwing his green coat across his shoulders, heapproached Benedetto. He tore the embroidered coat from his body, andreplaced it by his own, and, together with the kalpak, which Benedettohad thrown aside, completed his toilet. 

Hastily strapping the dagger to his side, he left the torture chamber. At the door he met the soldiers, who did not recognize him, and salutedhim as he passed. His thoughts were not regarding his own safety--hedesired to rescue Aslitta if possible. 

CHAPTER XXX

IN THE WELL

The subterranean prison into which Aslitta had been thrown was dark aspitch, and it was a long time before his eyes became accustomed to thedarkness and he could make out his surroundings. He remembered that hehad descended many steps, and he supposed that his cell was in thecasemates of the citadel. 

He soon discovered that the cell was very narrow but high; about tenfeet above his head he found an opening, secured by iron bars. Allattempts to reach this proved futile, and he could secure no foothold onthe slippery walls. 

What should he do? At any moment the door might be opened, and hiscaptors enter and lead him to the torture-chamber, or, perhaps, to hisdoom. He did not fear death itself--but what would become of Luciola incase he died? The last meeting of the patriots was to take place thisvery evening. As it was, there were but a few of these in comparison tothe number of their oppressors, and if but one remained away the goodwork might be seriously hampered. 

He paced the floor deeply absorbed in thought, when suddenly he stumbledand fell, as it appeared, into a vast empty space. Instinctivelyextending his arms, he caught hold of one of the projecting ledges, andso hung suspended in mid-air. 

What was to be done? Aslitta strove to secure a foothold, but therelation of his accident to his imprisonment soon dawned upon him. 

In the centre of the floor he had discovered an opening, which evidentlywas the passage leading to a well, or perhaps, as he thought, to one ofthe unused drains, such as there are many in the old castles. A lowstone fence surrounded the opening, and it was this over which he hadstumbled. Aslitta reflected for a moment--perhaps it was once coveredwith a stone, which, slipping out of place, dropped below. The openingwas not very wide, and it was only after a great effort that hesucceeded in jumping over the rail. 

If he could only have seen whether there was water in the well whichmight aid him in his escape. What would he not have given for a match?But that was out of the question. 

Suddenly he stopped short; it appeared as though he heard a noiseproceed from the well. He listened, but again everything was quiet. Hebent over the opening, and now he could distinctly hear a sound. It wasa human voice--it was a curse he had heard uttered. 

Placing his hands about his mouth he cried out:

"Is anybody here?"

No answer came. The prisoner waited and then called out once more. 

Again no answer came. 

Presently he heard a voice cry out, "You are a prisoner; are you not?"

"Yes, I am. Whoever you may be, have no fear; I am not your enemy, "returned the voice of Aslitta. 

"I am down in the water half drowned. "

"Peculiar, " thought Aslitta; "I ought to know that voice, it sounds sofamiliar;" and in a loud tone he asked, "Who are you?"

Yet no answer came; evidently the voice in the well doubted hissincerity. To his good fortune he found a match which he lighted. With asuppressed cry he shrank back; he recognized the uniform of the Austrianofficer. 

Before he could recover his surprise, he heard words in pure Italianproceeding from the well. 

"Keep me up! I am sinking deeper and deeper. "

Now there was no reason for doubt; were he friend or enemy he would savehim. Quickly unfastening his scarf, he held one end firmly while hethrew the other over into the well. 

"Catch hold of the scarf, " he called down, "the stuff is firm and willbear you. "

Immediately thereafter he felt that his order had been obeyed--the heavysilk became taut. 

"Pull up, " a voice now cried from below, "I will hold tight. "

Aslitta was young and powerful, but he had to exert himself terribly topull up the heavy load and lift it over the rim of the well. 

"Thank Heaven, " the words reached his ear, "for the present we aresaved. Ah, what would my poor Aurora say if she knew this?"

Aurora! This name seemed like a revelation to Aslitta, and, in gladsurprise, he exclaimed:

"Bartolomeo--is it you?"

"Why, of course; but with whom have I the honor--It is as dark here asin a sack. "

"I am Giorgio Aslitta. "

"Heaven be praised that I have found you. I was looking for you. "

"Indeed? Where, in truth, do you come from?"

"Oh, that would take us too far to-day. I fell into the clutches of thatcursed San Pietro and escaped from him only through a miracle. Well, forthat he's now got his deserts. "

"Is he dead?"

"Oh, no. That sort of vermin has a very tough life, but he's locked upfor the present, and therefore we must hurry up to clear out. "

"I'm with you, only tell me how and in which way, and, besides, I wouldlike to know how you obtained that Croatian uniform. "

"Oh, that was a rare joke! It was San Pietro's uniform which I took fromhim. I will tell you the particulars later on--or do you mistrust me?"

"No, Bartolomeo, I know you as a good patriot. "

"Thanks for this word. I come, besides, direct from the torture-chamber. After I had escaped from my torturer I was standing in a damp, narrow, totally dark passage. By groping along I reached a descending staircase;I slowly walked on and only stopped when I felt the moisture under myfeet. But what could I do? I cautiously groped ahead, and soon my shoeswere filled with water. It shortly afterward rose to my calves; andthen, oh joy! I could again rise to my full height. The steps were at anend and I stood in a capacious vault, as I could perceive by the lightof a match. At the same time I felt a strong draught, and then I heardyour question whether anybody was down there. I answered forluck--whether I was captured or drowned in the gradually rising waterwould, in the end, amount to the same thing. "

"But why were you arrested?"

"Later on you shall hear all. "

"Can you not at least tell me whether Luciola has been saved?"

"Yes, she is in safety in the Count of Monte-Cristo's house. "

"Heaven be praised! Now I can die calmly, " whispered Aslitta. 

"Nonsense! who is speaking of dying? Think of our rescue. It is not safeto remain here, and the sooner we get out of this hole the better. Whereis this cell?"

"Ah, if I knew that! I have no matches, and, therefore, could not verywell fix where I was. "

"Good; we will find out. "

Bartolomeo drew a match from his pocket, and soon a bright lightilluminated the cell, without, however, revealing a consoling prospect. 

"Humph!" growled the major, "it was, after all, better down there. "

"But there, also, you did not find an exit. "

"True; but I was, perhaps, awkward. You may do better. Let us descend. "

"As if that was so easy. If one holds the scarf, the other can descend, and that's the end of the chapter, " said Aslitta, calmly. 

"Well, one's enough, " thought the major, after a few moments'deliberation. 

"How so?"

"Well, I don't amount to much, and if I go under, my poor wife will betaken 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 formy country? You, on the other hand, must preserve yourself. What wouldbecome of Italy without you? Come, I will hold the scarf, and you candescend by it. The more I consider it, the surer I am that there's acanal down there, by means of which we can get into the moat of thefortress. Well, won't you do it?"

"No, " replied Aslitta, with emotion. "I would be a scoundrel to savemyself at your expense. "

"But there's no other way. Were I in your place I would not hesitate aninstant. Think of your friends; you are to lead them, and if you aremissing, they are lost. "

Tears rose to Aslitta's eyes, but he resisted no longer, and, cordiallyshaking the major's hand, he said: "Friend, I accept your sacrifice, andif I find an exit, I will save you. "

It seemed to Bartolomeo as if Aslitta's clasp was the most preciousthing he had gained, and he was almost overcome with emotion. But hequickly recovered when he heard footsteps close at hand, and urgedAslitta to leave. 

The young man embraced the major. 

"Thanks, in the name of Italy!" he ardently exclaimed. Then, tying thescarf around his waist, he swung himself from the rim of the well. 

Bartolomeo held the other end of the scarf with all his might. Aslittamust now have reached the bottom. At the moment when the major let goof 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 thosewho entered, he almost uttered a loud ejaculation, for before himstood--Benedetto. "I thought so, " muttered Bartolomeo, in a rage; "somecursed chance has rescued him. Such a scoundrel's soul is too bad forthe devil himself. "

"Get up, vagabond, " roughly exclaimed Benedetto. 

He had looked up Aslitta to avenge Bartolomeo's escape on him, and hewas in a very bad humor. 

As the major did not stir, Benedetto uttered an oath and cried:

"Are you deaf, Aslitta?"

He then snatched a torch from one of the soldiers who accompanied himand looked around. As if struck by lightning he started when awell-known voice tauntingly said:

"Good-day, Andrea Cavalcanti. "

"You and always you!" cried the bandit furiously. "Where is the otherone?"

The major shrugged his shoulders, while the soldiers looked in everycorner and Benedetto angrily gnawed his under lip. 

"He has probably escaped through the well, " said one of the soldiers atlast. 

"Oh, then we have him sure, " laughed another. 

"Light here, " ordered Benedetto, bending over the opening. The soldierobeyed as directed and Bartolomeo felt his heart cease beating. 

"We have him sure, " one of the soldiers had said. Was the well a trap? Astrange sound was now heard. The major sank on his knees. He recognizedthe noise. The water was slowly rising in the well and soon stoodhand-high under the stone curbing. 

"Where does the water come from?" asked Benedetto, stepping back. 

"About a quarter of an hour ago, " replied one of the soldiers, "thecommander gave the order to open the sluices of Santa Maria. Canals runfrom the aqueduct under the citadel, and that's why I said before we hadour prisoner sure. He is drowned. "

"Speak, wretch!" said San Pietro, turning to the major. "Did Aslittaescape through the well?"

But Bartolomeo made no reply. A dull sob escaped his lips, and his eyes, filled with hot tears, fixed themselves, in horror, on the silk scarfwhich the rising flood wafted to and fro. 

"One has escaped, " cried Benedetto, from between his gritted teeth, "butthe other shall suffer for it. Take the prisoner with you, " he added, addressing the soldiers; "to-morrow at daybreak he shall be shot. "

He walked toward the door. Bartolomeo slowly rose to his feet andmuttered only a single word:

"Villain!"

CHAPTER XXXI

SPERO

The morning of the 16th of March had come, and Milan had a martialappearance. Placards were attached to all the walls, informing theImperial authorities of the ultimatum of the people of Lombardy; a greatthrong was gathered around these placards, and the streets were crowdedwith Austrian troops. 

Grenadiers were on guard before the official buildings, but thesentinels were suddenly disarmed, and, without being able to tell how ithappened, the palace was occupied by the citizens. The municipalcouncillors fled in every direction; only the president of the Senateremained firm, and only when the tumult became greater, he, too, went, guarded by an escort, to the Brobetto palace, which was situated in thecentre of the city. 

In the Via Del Monte the crowd was the greatest, and all passage wassoon entirely cut off. Rifle shots were suddenly heard, deafening shoutsfollowed, and there was a terrible confusion. Radetzky had ordered hissoldiers to load heavily and to fire into the crowd. A howl of ragefollowed the first discharge, and numberless wounded fell to the ground. That was no honest combat, but an infamous massacre. 

Monte-Cristo stood at one of the lofty arched windows in the Vidisertipalace, and, with a dark frown, observed the terrible massacre whichRadetzky's minions created in the streets. Spero stood at his father'sside. 

"See, papa, " he said, with tear-choked utterance, "that wounded womancarrying a dead child. It was shot in her arms. Oh, the poor wretches, what did they do to the soldiers?"

"My child, " sadly replied Monte-Cristo, "man's worst enemy is man!"

"Papa!" suddenly exclaimed Spero, "see, there, the flag!"

The count glanced in the direction indicated. A young Italian had justclimbed up the tower of a church opposite the Vidiserti palace, andthere unfurled the national standard. The tricolor fluttered gayly inthe wind. Suddenly, however, the young man was seen to totter; he soughtto hold himself, turned a somersault and fell crushed to the pavement. Abullet had hit him. 

At this moment Bertuccio entered the hall. 

"Well?" asked the count. 

"Count, one of our emissaries has penetrated to the citadel. The MarquisAslitta is no longer there!"

"What can that mean? Had he escaped he would have looked for us here, "exclaimed the count uneasily. 

"The man could learn nothing further, " said Bertuccio, sadly; "but hewas informed that some one else was found in the marquis's cell. "

"Some one else? Who?"

"You know him. In Paris he called himself Major Cavalcanti, and here--"

"What about this substitute?" eagerly interrupted the count. 

"He was sentenced to death; whether the sentence had been alreadyexecuted our emissary could not ascertain. "

"Bertuccio, " said the count anxiously, "if Aslitta--"

"Aslitta is dead!" cried Luciola, who had entered unperceived and sankto her knees sobbing. 

"Who dares to allege that?" exclaimed the count, turning pale. 

"Step to the window, " stammered Luciola. 

The count did so and staggered back, for the sight he saw confirmed thepoor girl's words; four men, with uncovered heads, carried a bier onwhich lay a motionless body. It was the Marquis Aslitta, andMonte-Cristo's heart swelled as he recognized him. 

"How could this calamity have happened?" whispered Spero, clinginganxiously to Luciola. 

Bertuccio, in the meantime, had run down into the street to direct thecarriers. He now returned and tremblingly said:

"A quarter of an hour ago our men found the body in the moat of thefortifications; how Aslitta got there is a riddle. "

Loud cries were heard from the street. 

"Revenge on the murderers! Death to the miserable cowards. "

A crowd numbered by hundreds gathered around the bier, and the carriershad trouble to reach the palace gate. 

Luciola had dragged herself with difficulty to the staircase, but thereshe swooned away, and while Spero bedewed her beautiful pale face withhis tears, he appealingly whispered to his father:

"Papa, you have already aided so many people, aid her too!"

Monte-Cristo started. He had promised Luciola to save Aslitta, and now--

The next moment he was standing beside the bier; his gaze restedsearchingly, with unspeakable terror, on the pale features of thedrowned man, and with trembling hands he bared the bosom and placed hisear to Aslitta's breast. 

At this instant the beating of drums was heard and a Croatian battalionturned the corner of the street. 

"Men, " exclaimed Monte-Cristo, "carry the Marquis Aslitta into theVidiserti palace, and if you love your leader, who has staked his lifefor you, see to it that no soldier enters the building! Turn the palaceinto a bulwark against which the soldiers smash their skulls, and whoknows whether Italy and Aslitta may not, together, become resurrected?"

Luciola had heard the prophetic words; she rose up, and, approaching thebier, exclaimed enthusiastically:

"You hear his words; he always keeps what he promises. To arms, friends!Long live Italy and Liberty. "

A shout of joy answered Luciola. The next instant the street was blockedby turned wagons, logs and other obstacles, the pavement was torn up, and as the Croatians approached they found a raging multitude ready fordefence. At a first-story window of the Palace Vidiserti Luciola stoodand encouraged the patriots. She had seized a flag, and, unmindful ofthe bullets which whistled around her, waved the tricolor in the air. 

The spark had dropped into the powder barrel; from all sides thepatriots rallied around the national standard, and, amid the ringing ofthe alarm bells, the insurrection kept growing in dimensions. 

Luciola had long ago left her place at the window and stood on abarricade, waving her flag and spurring on the combatants. The Croatiansretreated after about an hour. Surrounded on all sides by the Italians, they sought safety in flight, and the patriots followed them with shoutsof joy. 

Luciola now left the barricade, and, hastening into the palace, sank onher knees beside the bier, on which Aslitta still lay extendedmotionless. She raised her clasped hands to Monte-Cristo, who wasbusying himself about the lifeless man, and imploringly exclaimed:

"Count, I have kept my word--the tricolor waves in freedom in Milan;restore Giorgio to me. "

The count did not reply; he held in his hand a small vial containing adark-red liquid, and slowly he dropped single drops on Aslitta'scompressed lips. 

At this instant Sante-Croce rushed into the apartment and excitedlyexclaimed:

"Things are bad, count. Radetzky has retreated with his troops into thecitadel and begins to bombard the city! You have promised to assist uswith act and counsel, and, instead of redeeming your word, you arewasting the time in useless revivification experiments. Let the deadalone and take care of the living. "

Monte-Cristo's flashing eyes fixed themselves on the old patriot, andwith ringing tones he retorted:

"Marquis, I have as yet always kept my word. "

"But when? It may soon be too late. We are lacking in arms andammunition, and the superiority of numbers will crush us if we aredefenceless. "

"Ali, " ordered the count. 

The Nubian appeared and glanced inquiringly at his master. 

"You have the key of the vault which contains the arms and ammunition?"

Ali nodded. 

"Go and show the Marquis of Sante-Croce the way to the vaults. Arm thepatriots, marquis, and believe my words, before night Radetzky will giveup the fight and to-morrow will leave Milan. Stop, one instant yet; Itold the patriots that the Marquis Aslitta would lead them. I have keptmy word. See for yourself. Aslitta opens his eyes; he lives. "

The dark eyelids really opened, and with a dreamy look Aslitta surveyedthe people who surrounded him. 

"Thanks be to God, he lives!" exclaimed Luciola, gleefully. 

"Calm yourself, Eugenie, " said the Count. "Aslitta must be spared forthe present any excitement! Leave him to me, he will soon recover. "

"Oh, you have performed a miracle, " said Luciola, enthusiastically. 

Monte-Cristo bowed his head and a tear glistened in his eye. 

It was in memory of his friend and teacher, the Abbe Faria. 

Sante-Croce looked wonderingly at the count. 

"You are a god!" he exclaimed; "forgive the words I spoke before. "

"I have nothing to forgive, " replied the count, gently; "I have only tokeep what I have promised. Spero, come here. "

"Here I am, papa, " called the boy. 

"Good, my son. You know your duty. Accompany the patriots; take my placeuntil Aslitta's condition permits me to relieve you. "

A cannon-shot caused the house to shake to its foundations, and Haydee, pale and trembling, entered. 

"The bombardment begins, " she whispered to her husband. "Oh, thecruelty!"

Monte-Cristo threw his arm about his handsome wife, and giving the boy awink, he consolingly said:

"Spero will be worthy of you and me. Come, Spero, say good-by and go. "

Spero pressed a kiss on Haydee's lips, threw his arms about his father'sneck and whispered in his ear:

"I will do my duty. "

Turning to the marquis he put his hand in that of the old man and said:

"Let us go!"

A half-hour passed by. Monte-Cristo and Haydee were still busied withAslitta, when a servant entered bearing a sealed letter on a silversalver. 

"A courier who has come from France has just brought it, " said theservant, in answer to a question of the count's. 

"Did he give his name?"

"Yes; he said his name was Penelon, and that he came from Marseilles. "

"From Marseilles!" exclaimed Haydee, anxiously; "oh, quick! see what theletter says. "

Monte-Cristo broke the seal. The letter only contained a few words:

 "I am dying from grief. Come at once!

 "MERCEDES. "

The count handed the letter to Haydee. The latter read it and then said:

"When do we go?"

"Thanks, Haydee, " said the count, tenderly. "We go as soon as my dutyhere is ended! Give the necessary orders. Let Bertuccio inform Jacopoand rest easy! See, Aslitta has recovered--God will protect Spero!"

CHAPTER XXXII

ECARTE

Bartolomeo was thrown into a subterranean dungeon of the citadel, andnow that Aslitta was lost he accepted his fate calmly. He could not beof any further service to the fatherland. 

As he was sitting meditatively in his cell, the door opened and acorporal entered. 

"What do you wish?" asked the major politely. "What time is it?"

"Three o'clock in the morning, " replied the corporal, a handsome youngfellow with blue eyes and blond hair. 

"Only three o'clock. Then I have three long hours still to live. Can't Ibe shot at once?"

"No, no chance whatever. "

"How awkward. What shall I do with myself? It's so monotonous here!"

"Oh, you can remedy that, " said the corporal, laughing. 

"How so? What do you mean?" asked Bartolomeo. 

"Well, you see, I know that you are a good card-player. To-morrow I mustshoot you, and before doing so I came here to ask you to do me a favor. Will you please teach me _ecarte_?"

"With pleasure, " replied the major. 

"Good; then let us begin, " said the soldier, gleefully, and pulling apack of cards out of his pocket, he threw them on a chair and went away, returning shortly afterward with a drum. 

The major seated himself on a chair, the corporal on the bed, and thedrum served as a table. 

The corporal was a good scholar and soon learned the elements of thegame. Bartolomeo was delighted. He dealt, picked up, trumped, and forgotentirely that in a few hours he would be shot. 

When the clock struck four, the young man had won twice, and he proudlyexclaimed:

"If my luck continues, I will be ahead of you soon. Couldn't we play formoney?"

"No, that would be unfair, " replied the major, "I am so superior toyou. "

"Oh, that could be tested by a trial. But first I will get some rum. Iam thirsty, and you are so also, no doubt. "

"Thanks, I will take some too, " replied Bartolomeo. 

The corporal disappeared. As soon as the footsteps died away, the majortook the cards and stacked them. When the soldier returned with the rum, the major had already taken his place. 

"Ah, that tastes good, " he said, after he had taken a deep draught. 

The corporal drank also and then they sat down again. This time the gamewas for money, the stakes being a few pennies. After a while, thesoldier in the meantime having won repeatedly, the stakes wereincreased. The major continued to lose, and soon the soldier had wonall 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 allgone, the corporal said he would lend him a few lire. 

"Ah, if I lose these too, " remarked the major, "the time will have goneby for a revenge. It is already past five o'clock. "

"Bah--let us play anyhow!" exclaimed the corporal, exhilarated by themoney he had won and the liquor he had swallowed. 

A slight smile crossed the major's lips. The play began again, but thistime the prisoner won. It did not take long before the major had notonly won back all his money, but that of the corporal's too, and just asthe latter had asked him for a loan a knock was heard at the door. 

"Confound it!" exclaimed the corporal, "who is disturbing us now?"

In answer to a harsh "Come in, " the door opened and a soldier appeared. He announced that it was time to go to the barracks in the PiazzaPoliziotti. 

"It is all right; I shall be there directly, " answered the corporal. 

The soldier departed, and the corporal now turned to Bartolomeo, who hadarisen from his chair. 

"One more game, " begged the Austrian. 

"Not for the world. I must collect my thoughts now, and close my accountwith God, " replied the major. 

"But you won my money and ought to give me a revenge. "

"Gladly, if I only had time to do so. "

The corporal, who was very tight, swore roundly. 

The major gazed at him for a moment, and then in a hesitating way said:

"I know a way out of the difficulty. "

"What is it?" asked the corporal, breathlessly. 

"Your order is to shoot me, and then to go to the barracks; postpone theexecution half an hour--take me with you to the Poliziotti barracks, andI will give you your revenge there, " proposed Bartolomeo. 

"Certainly, " cried the corporal, gleefully. 

He strode in advance of Bartolomeo, and ordered his men to take themajor along to the barracks. 

The soldiers looked at one another in astonishment, but none dared tosay a word, and at a quick step they were on their way to the barracks. 

"Time won--everything won, " muttered the major. "I have not played cardsa lifetime for nothing. "

CHAPTER XXXIII

FORWARD!

In the streets of Milan the battle raged. The Italians resembled lionsin courage, and soon one bulwark after another fell into their hands. The ladies of the aristocracy were busy in the Casa Borromeo meltinglead and making cannon-balls. All the druggists and chemistsmanufactured powder and gun-cotton, and the gunsmiths gave up theirstocks of firearms. 

In spite of the brave resistance of the Austrians, the Borletto Palacehad been conquered again by the patriots. Radetzky demanded anarmistice, but his proposition was declined. The enemy were not allowedtime to collect themselves. 

One barrack after the other was captured, and then the great mass of thepatriots turned toward the Casa Santa Margarita, where the _elite_ ofthe artillery had taken up a position, and a bitter struggle ensued. Thebattle raged indecisively for a long time, when suddenly a bright flameissued from the gate. A patriot, Pasquale Sottocorni, had stealthilyreached the palace and set it on fire. He was the first victim of hisheroic deed, and died with the cry on his lips:

"Long live Italy!"

But his boldness helped the patriots materially. The escaping soldierswere taken prisoners, and the ranks of the people were recruited innumbers. The Poliziotti barracks still remained to be captured. ThePoliziotti was intensely hated in Milan because it was mainly filledwith renegades--Italians who sold themselves to Radetzky. 

While the fight was going on about the building, Bartolomeo and thecorporal were sitting in a room playing cards. The major permitted hispupil to win and lose at times. Every minute he gained was precious tohim, and the corporal did not dream of shooting his teacher while theywere playing _ecarte_. 

From time to time a soldier put his head in the room to ask when theexecution was going to take place. 

Every time he did so he was told to be off. 

The corporal had just finished dealing the cards, when the soldier againappeared. 

"Corporal, " he said, breathlessly, "the Poliziotti are giving way, theCroatians are decimated--shall we go to their rescue?"

"Bah! we are only a handful, " growled the corporal. "Let us await theresult. "

The door closed behind the soldier. Bartolomeo now sprang up, took thesword and gun from the drunken corporal, and cried in his ear:

"Obey my order, or you are a dead man!"

"What--should--I--do?" stammered the corporal, partly sobered. 

"Hoist the white flag--quick!"

"But I--have--no--authority--here!"

"Who cares?" exclaimed Bartolomeo, "give the order--the people will beneedlessly sacrificed--are you going now?"

The corporal still hesitated, but just then a police sergeant ran in andcried:

"Corporal--let your men get shot--the scoundrels refuse to fight!"

Bartolomeo had placed himself behind the corporal; the muzzle of the gunlay against his knee, and this fact made the Austrian obedient. 

"My people are right, " he said, gruffly; "I have given the order tohoist the white flag. "

"The white flag? What for?"

"Special order from the marshal, " replied the corporal. 

"Which reached you?" asked the sergeant, distrustfully. 

"Yes; do not consider any longer!" thundered Bartolomeo, coming forward:"I have brought the order myself. "

The sergeant saw the Austrian uniform; he disappeared hurriedly, andBartolomeo called after him:

"God help you if the flag is not hoisted before two minutes havepassed. "

Suddenly the firing ceased, a loud noise was heard. The Italians salutedthe white flag--the signal of peace. 

In the barracks itself loud curses were heard--Count San Pietro haddiscovered that the white flag had been hoisted, and was heaping insultsupon the officers. No one admitted having given the order. Benedetto, though, did not look kindly upon the proposition of an old colonel tohave the flag removed. With a diabolical smile he said:

"If the patriots have any confidence in the flag then it's their ownfault. Follow my commands punctually, and I will forget your stupidity. "

A few minutes later a terrible crash was heard, followed by a loud cry. From all the windows the bullets flew; the cannons threw death anddestruction into the ranks of the trusting patriots. 

The confusion only lasted a moment. 

"Surround the rat-hole! Not a single one must escape--down with thepoliziotti!" exclaimed the Italians, wildly. 

In firm columns they advanced against the barracks, and then theypaused. Suppose treachery was in store for them?

The patriots now retreated to the right and left, to make room for twopersons: a white-haired old man and a handsome dark-featured boy. Theold man turned to the Italians, and said in a loud voice:

"Friends and brothers! The barracks of San Francisco, San Vittore andthe military hospital are in our possession. Radetzky's palace has beenstormed, and the marshal's baton has fallen into the hands of theconquerors. Forward, with God! We two, an old man and a weak child, willshow you the way!"

Proudly erect, the old man strode toward the door, and Spero walkedhurriedly behind him, and a fanatical, enthusiastic crowd followed. 

On the threshold stood an Austrian officer. He lifted his gun, andtriumphantly exclaimed:

"Ha, Monte-Cristo--to-day I shall strike you through the heart! Curseson you and your race!"

The gun directed against Spero's breast went off. When the smoke hadcleared away, the boy stood there unharmed, while a man tumbled down athis feet. It was Bartolomeo! Taking advantage of the confusion, he ranaway and came just in the nick of time to receive Benedetto's murderousbullet in his breast. 

A quarter of an hour later Aslitta appeared accompanied by Monte-Cristoand La Luciola. He was still pale and exhausted, but he swung his swordand joyfully exclaimed: "Radetzky has fled. The citadel hassurrendered. "

The Italians embraced each other. Their dream was realized. Milan wasfree. 

"Papa, " whispered Spero, "come with me. There is a man lying over therewho sacrificed himself for me. "

Monte-Cristo bent over the major, whose pale face lighted up joyfullywhen he saw the count. 

"Let me see the wound, " said Monte-Cristo. "Who knows but--"

"Unnecessary, " whispered Bartolomeo; "my adopted sonunderstands--how--to--aim!"

"Ha! then it was Benedetto!" exclaimed the count. 

"His bullet was intended for me, " said Spero. "He said he wished tostrike you through the heart. "

"The monster!" said Monte-Cristo, and turning to Bartolomeo, he added:"and how shall I thank you?"

"Ah!--that--does good, " stammered Bartolomeo. "Count--care for--Aurora. Ah!--I am dying. Your hand--farewell--child. Italy--is--free!"

The major stretched himself out and his eyes became glassy. 

Spero sobbed bitterly, and the count whispered:

"May the earth be light to you. If you have sinned, your love for yourcountry has made atonement!"

One hour later the count, Haydee and Spero bade adieu to Aslitta andLuciola in the Café Vidiserti. 

"Farewell, marquis, " said the count, throwing a knowing glance atAslitta, who held the diva in his arms. 

Aslitta nodded. 

"To-day Luciola will be my bride, " he gently said. 

"Why do you wish to leave us?" exclaimed Luciola, sobbing. 

"Because others need me. Come, Haydee, Mercedes is waiting. "

CHAPTER XXXIV

SERGEANT COUCOU

Ten years had passed since Mercedes had bade her only son good-by. Shelived in the small house in the Allee de Meillan at Marseilles, whichformerly belonged to old Dantes, and though her face was pale and hereyes no longer sparkled as of yore, the widow of General de Morcerf wasstill a wonderfully handsome woman. Mercedes was standing at the window, gazing out upon the sea. Behind her stood a man in the uniform of aZouave. Small, brown and thin, he looked like the type of what a Zouaveis generally thought to be. 

What the Zouave's name was no one exactly knew. He had many sobriquets, the most popular of which was "Sergeant Coucou, " so that after a whilehe was never called otherwise. 

The sergeant's cradle, in spite of his brown skin, had not stood inAfrica, but in the Faubourg Merceau in Paris. 

Coucou was the son of a poor washerwoman. His first studies were made onthe curbstone and in the gutter, and pretty soon he became the toughestboy in the neighborhood. His mother decided the time had come for herson to enter the army. Coucou did not hesitate long; only he made it acondition that he be allowed to enter an African regiment. The motherwas satisfied. A regiment which bore the trusting name, the "Jackals, "was just on the point of sailing to Algiers, and so Coucou became aJackal. 

When the time for saying good-by came, the mother began to weep, butCoucou consoled her. 

"You see, mamma, " he said, confidently, "I will make a name for myself, and when you read about my heroic deeds in the papers, you will be proudof me. "

The mother laughed between her sobs. The few pennies she had saved sheused to buy a pair of spectacles to read the forthcoming chronicles; forshe was one of that class of innocent people who believe that thefaculty of reading rests in spectacles. 

About the year 1843 the Zouave regiment, to which Coucou belonged, madea sortie under General Cavaignac against the Kabyles in Beni Djaad. Among the few who escaped was the Sheik Sidi ben Abed. No one knew wherehe had disappeared to, and when the call to retreat had been sounded, Coucou declared he would remain behind to find out where the Kabyleswere. 

"They will kill you, " his comrades warned him. 

"Bah! a Parisian child does not fear the devil!" said Coucou, laughing. 

In a few minutes he had disappeared. The soldiers feared the worst; but, to their astonishment, Coucou came back in a few hours, dragging thesheik by his long beard behind him. The Kabyle was armed to the teeth, but nevertheless Coucou had forced him to succumb without a struggle. 

Six months later Coucou was struck over the head by a yataghan, and, but for the timely interference of a comrade, would have been killed. How the sergeant came to the little house in the Allee de Meillan wewill relate further on. One thing was certain, Mercedes' silence madehim feel uncomfortable; but his eye lighted up when the door opened, anda small white hand was laid on Mercedes' shoulder, and a clear, brightvoice said:

"Good-day, my dear little woman. "

CHAPTER XXXV

MISS CLARY

Mercedes trembled and shrunk away, although the possessor of the smallwhite hand was a charming young girl. 

A pretty little head with ash-blond hair, deep blue eyes and fresh redlips made Miss Clary Ellis--that was the name of the eighteen-year-oldgirl--a very beautiful picture, and the sergeant drew back respectfully, while Mercedes said:

"Good-day, my darling--always joyful, always happy. "

"And you are always sorrowful, and have tears in your eyes. Better takeme for a model, who, as a consumptive, have far more reason to bemelancholy than you have. "

"I am waiting, " said Mercedes, sorrowfully, "for him, and he will surelycome if he lives. "

"And who is he?"

"He is a faithful friend in need, " replied Mercedes, solemnly, "and Ilove him as if he were divine. But tell me what brought you here to-day?Curiosity?"

"Ungrateful woman, " pouted the English girl, "as if I did not like tocome here. But if you are so solemn, why--"

"Oh, Clary, I am not solemn--I am melancholy, and at times desperate. "

"Desperate? How can you say such a thing?"

"If you had lost everything, as I have, you would understand me, " saidMercedes, 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 methe world has no pleasures for me, and should I never see him again--"

"But, madam, " interrupted Coucou, "how can you talk that way! Why shouldyou not see my brave captain again? My captain is not one of those whoare eaten by Kabyles for supper. He defends his life, and if he shouldbe in the bowels of the earth I will find him. I--"

"Brave sergeant!" exclaimed Clary, and turning to Mercedes, she said:

"You must not despair, little woman. As far back as I can rememberpeople always said about me: 'Ah, the poor child, to have to die soyoung--it is terrible--she must go to the south!' My father and brothermade me sign all kinds of documents in case of my death. What was theuse of my fortune if I died, and it was a settled fact I was to die?"

With a gay laugh Clary arose, and, bidding Mercedes a cordial farewell, left the house. The light-hearted girl's full name was Clara Ellis, andthree months before, she, and her French governess, the widow of apolice sergeant, had settled down in Nice. Madame Caraman, or, as Clarycalled her, Mamma Caraman, was of sound health, while her young ward, according to the opinion of eminent English physicians, was in anindifferent state of health. They sent her, because she suffered from aslight cough, and as being incurable and consumptive, to the south. Nicewas the Eldorado of all chest complaints, and thus the ladies took uptheir residence in that place. 

Lord Ellis, Clary's father, had inherited from his parents a largefortune, which, however, he squandered in noble passions, and it wasfeared that his son Sir Edward, the heir-at-law, would one day inheritonly the empty title. But it happened that owing to the sudden death ofa rich aunt residing in India, Sir Edward's sister, Miss Clary Ellis, inherited an immense fortune, and from that day Lord Ellis began to payattention and took care of his daughter to a much greater extent than heused to do. Clary since her eighth year had lived in a world of her ownimagination; fantastic ideas and representations were the fruits of hereducation, which pompous governesses had inculcated at an early age, andthe education recommended to Clary was for the sole purpose ofincreasing her romantic inclinations. The heroines of Byron andLamartine were enviously looked upon by Clary--the "Sorrows of Werther"were continually lying upon her desk ready for perusal, and the youngenthusiast was soon convinced that there was no nicer death than that ofMarie Beaumarchais. 

Almost with joy she welcomed her sickness, looking upon it as aforerunner of approaching dissolution. Wrapped in furs, she spent herdays upon her couch, and from an "imaginary patient" she was becoming areal sick person; inasmuch as the want of exercise, as well as thecontinual strain on the whole nervous system, did not fail to have itseffect. 

Lord Ellis faced with manly courage the hard lot of losing his daughterat an early age. It was indeed a great pity that Clary could not makeuse of and enjoy her wealth, but what else could be done? As a carefulfather the lord prepared for any emergency; he urged Clary to signvarious papers, which entitled him and his sons to make use of herimmense wealth. The sum thus turned over for his use amounted to aboveone million sterling--but what good did it do? If Clary died, she couldnot, after all, take away her great wealth; and the million sterling wasonly a share of the still larger sum thus to be expected in case of herdemise. 

The physicians all agreed that Clary should at least hold out and die inthe south, and a companion had to be procured. She soon found one in theperson of Madame Caraman, a lady of about forty-five years, who showed asincere interest in her suffering ward, and thus they entered on theirjourney. But soon Madame Caraman found reason to doubt the incurabilityof her patient--she noticed that Clary, when leaving her carriage, orperforming any other movement of the body, usually painful for chestcomplaints, never felt pain or the slightest inconvenience. 

This lasted for some time, and then Madame Caraman one day said quiteearnestly:

"My dear child--now it is enough--you are as much sick as I am! You willbe kind enough from this day to try to eat heartily, in order to regainyour strength; you will drink daily a glass of Bordeaux and take a walkwith me, and not, like a sick bird in its cage, remain wrapped up in thecorner of a carriage. No--no objections. You will also never cough againas you get accustomed to it; and after the lapse of a month we will seewhat further to do. "

Clary sighed and sobbed, but it was no use--Madame Caraman stuck to herwill, and, trembling and hesitating, the young lady was persuaded to eather first beefsteak, and to her great surprise she was not suffocated bythe unaccustomed food; the wine she found excellent, and Madame Caramantriumphed. 

An accident happened which also brought help. One night some robberstried 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 asuspicious noise. With a heavy silver candlestick in her hand sheentered the parlor from whence the noise proceeded. She knocked a persondown, but ere she could pick up the heavy candlestick the second one hadgot hold of her throat and she would have been lost had not a shot beenfired at the same moment, and her assailant with a loud shriek fell tothe ground. 

When Madame Caraman turned around she saw Clary, pale, but with a pairof beaming eyes, standing at the entrance of the room, and in her tinywhite hand the yet smoking pistol. 

The servants rushed in--the wounded were made prisoners, and MadameCaraman had to thank Clary with tears in her eyes for her assistance. 

"Well, for one already half dead you certainly possess a great deal ofstrength and energy, " she said afterward, with cunning look; "onlycourage, dear child--we will soon see who is in the right. "

Clary was, to all appearance, from this day continually becoming morecheerful, and her strength increased gradually. It is no wonder thatsometimes she still clung to her painful ideas, and thought it not worthwhile to live, while Madame Caraman tried hard to teach her betterprinciples. 

"You must have some kind of occupation, " she said; "you must give yourlife some aim, some purpose. "

"But how? Nobody stands in need of me, " sobbed Clary. 

"Oh, that is only your own belief, but it is not so. There is muchsorrow and misery in the world, but in large and fine streets you cannotmeet with it, and only in narrow streets and lanes and alleys can youfind it. I am, for instance, a native of Paris, and I know that in thebeautiful town every day many die of hunger, if not in the Rue de laPaix and on the Boulevard des Italiens. "

"Alas, " sobbed Clary; "if I could help them!"

"And why should it be impossible?" said Madame Caraman, in an amiablevoice; "misery is easily found--one must only look for it. "

"Madame Caraman, I should like to call you Mamma Caraman; will you allowme?"

"With pleasure, dear child. "

"Well, then, Mamma Caraman, I am getting tired of Nice. "

"I am also tired of it, " nodded the companion. 

"How should you like to go to Marseilles?"

"With pleasure, my dear child. "

"And, Mamma Caraman, I should like to do the journey on horseback, "added Clary, in a hesitating voice. 

"Still better, dear child--when we reach Marseilles you will be sound inhealth. "

Eight days later we find Clary and her companion settled down inMarseilles. Madame Caraman was in the right--the young patient got roundgradually now, as she felt a real desire to get better, and whoever sawthe fresh, blooming girl on horseback thought her rather to be anythingelse than a sufferer from consumption. 

In Marseilles Clary got to know misery and sickness in every form andshape, and now she began to see the blessing of being wealthy. She gavewith full hands, and Madame Caraman was proud of her conquests since herfirst journey undertaken under such discouraging circumstances. 

Upon a walk in the Meillan alley Clary noticed Mercedes--that beautifulpale face, with its dark, deep-set, sorrowful eyes, which attracted theyoung girl's attention in an irresistible manner, and apocket-handkerchief which Mercedes dropped offered her ample and goodopportunity to enter upon a conversation with the owner. 

Mercedes admired the lovely young girl, whose mirth showed nothing ofthe rudeness which, especially to mourners, becomes very disagreeable. They often met, and after a few days Clary was quite at home in thelittle house in which Mercedes resided. 

Mercedes very soon became acquainted with the past life of the youngEnglish lady--she assisted Madame Caraman in all her work to give toClary's life, up to now aimless, a fixed object and satisfaction, and itstands to reason that the young girl also felt great interest forMercedes. Mercedes was only too happy to find an opportunity to speakabout Albert--during the ten years he sojourned in Algiers, his lettershad been the joy of his mother. Albert called himself Joliette--thename of Morcerf contained for him, the same as for Mercedes, terriblerecollections--and soon Clary admired and looked upon Captain Jolietteas something of a higher being. 

Albert's letters, which, up to now, had always regularly reachedMarseilles, now remained away altogether, and a time of indescribableanguish commenced for Mercedes--the arrival of the Jackal Coucou onlyincreased her troubles, for the news which he brought wasunsatisfactory, and thus the mother resolved at length to send that callfor help to Monte-Cristo. 

While Mercedes spoke to Clary the sergeant stood at the window, and hecalled out suddenly:

"Just now a beautiful yacht, in full sail, is entering the harbor--ah, now I can read the inscription on the vessel; it is the Ice Bird. "

"God be blessed, " sobbed Mercedes, falling on her knees. "Ah, I wasaware that he would come!"

"I shall go, dear mother, " said Clary, rising, "but mind, if anything ofimportance happens, I hope I shall also know of it?"

"At once, " nodded Mercedes, "Monsieur Coucou, pray accompanyMademoiselle Clary, and return immediately in case you are wanted. "

The sergeant nodded and both went away. 

Soon after a carriage stopped before the door. A man got out andhastened up the narrow staircase. 

"Mercedes, " he called aloud, with faltering voice; it resounded uponhim--"Edmond, Edmond!"

CHAPTER XXXVI

A MOTHER

For a moment Mercedes and the count stood motionless opposite eachother; then Monte-Cristo extended his hand to the sobbing woman, and ina faltering voice he begged:

"Mercedes--to-day I know that I have sinned--I have punished harder thanI had a right to do, and I can only supplicate you to forgive me. Takemy life and I shall not murmur. I thought to fulfil my duty, and haveexecuted revenge!"

"No, Edmond--do not talk like this!" said Mercedes, softly; "the lotwhich met me I deserved even more than--Broken faithfulness must alwaysrevenge itself bitterly. The misfortune which nowadays pulls me down hasnothing to do with the past, and therefore I ask your help. "

"Then speak, Mercedes--I hear, " replied Monte-Cristo, simply. 

"Edmond, " began Mercedes, without further apologies, "you know what wasthe intention of my son, for whom I was attached to life when everythingaround was destroyed. Alas! Albert is the favorite of my heart; do notthink me foolish, if I tell you he was worthy of you! His letters, which, breathe of his uninterrupted, faithful filial love, have kept mealive 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 shouldmeet again! But suddenly all letters ceased to arrive. I waited many along day, weeks, months, but all in vain--no news came. 

"I anxiously read all papers--I inquired and hoped, but I could bringnothing to light. At length I resolved to write to Paris to the Ministerof War--I received no answer, and my despair increased daily. 

"Then an accident led Monsieur Beauchamp to Marseilles--I took heart tolook for him, and acquainted him with my sorrow. He received me verykindly, listened to me, and promised to exert himself to obtain someinformation for me. After eight days I received the sad news--"

"Then Albert is dead?" said the count, sorrowfully. 

"Oh, God, no--say not so--he cannot, he dare not be dead!" sobbedMercedes. "The news which Beauchamp acquainted me with was dishearteningenough. My poor son, captain in the first Zouave regiment, or theso-called Jackals, about three months ago, after an expedition againstthe Kabyles, disappeared; they fear the wild horde has taken him away!"

Monte-Cristo reflected a moment and then inquired: "Did it happen beforeor after the submission of Abd-el-Kader?"

"After, as much as I can tell. Monsieur Beauchamp, however, was notsatisfied with the uncertain reports--he informed me that a Zouave fromAlbert's regiment was on furlough in Paris, and he would not fail tohave the Zouave sent to Marseilles to inform me of all, in a moreparticular way. "

"And has this Zouave arrived?" inquired Monte-Cristo, animatedly. 

"Yes, a few days since. "

"And what does he say?"

"He maintains Albert is still alive. "

"Then we may yet hope for the best, Mercedes, " said Monte-Cristo, consolingly. "God owes you a recompense, and you will see your sonagain!"

"If you say so, I believe it, " replied Mercedes sincerely. 

"May I also speak with the Zouave?"

"Certainly--he is downstairs now. "

"Then let him come up; I should like to ask him a few questions. "

Mercedes called the sergeant; Monte-Cristo looked at her pitifully andthen whispered:

"Mercedes--here this has reference to my life--you have known me fromchildhood--have I ever broken my word?"

"Oh, no--only I am guilty of it!"

"I did not wish to hear of that--you have my oath, and with the help ofGod I shall keep the same!"

CHAPTER XXXVII

THE RING

Cap in hand, the Zouave appeared, and, throwing an inquisitive glance atthe count, he said politely:

"What is your pleasure, madame?"

"Dear friend, " was the kind reply of Monte-Cristo, "madame has calledyou, because I intend to ask you a few questions; I know you love yourcaptain, and therefore--"

"Well, I do love him, " replied Coucou, enthusiastically. "I am ready tobe cut in pieces for him. "

"With that we need not make any haste, " said Monte-Cristo, smiling. "Youbelieve then that Captain Joliette is still alive?"

"Yes, colonel. "

"I am no colonel, " said the count. 

"Then I must say general?"

"That is unnecessary--I am in no way a soldier. "

"But that is hardly possible, " cried Coucou, disappointed; "such a nicebrave gentleman, and not a soldier?"

"I cannot help you; but now tell me plainly whether you can render meany assistance in finding the captain?"

"A thousand times, marshal, or as otherwise your title may be. You see, sir, I am a man of few words, but if you demand my heart's blood, it isat your service--the Jackal Coucou always keeps his word. "

Monte-Cristo smiled--the man suited him. 

"Sit down here next to me, " he said, in a friendly manner, "and tell meall you know. "

"To seat myself--no, that would be disrespectful; I shall remainstanding; and now question me. "

"Just as you like. Since when has the captain disappeared, and what doyou know concerning him?"

"Accurately I cannot point out the time. On the last day of December, Abd-el-Kader, of whom so much is said, and who, I must here remark, muchresembles you--"

"Quite a compliment, " smilingly said the count, bowing. 

"For Abd-el-Kader, " interrupted Coucou, promptly. "Well, then, afterAbd-el-Kader laid down his arms, subdued by Generals Lamoriciere andCavaignac, we thought the war was ended; but God forbid, it hadcommenced in earnest. In confidence, sir, I believe in Algiers you willnever hear of its end. That the Jackals at the affair played their gamewell is too well known; it was they who checked Abd-el-Kader. 

"Well, on one occasion, we undertook a trifling skirmish, in order tosend out some scouts; we had about twenty men, and Captain Joliette ledus. 'Comrades, ' he said, 'before we start, let us finally take care thatthe cursed Africans leave us at peace in future!' and then he called myname--you must know he had always a little order for me to execute--"

"I conclude therefrom, that you found an opportunity to render him aservice once, " interrupted the count, in a friendly manner. 

"H'm--the marshal knows his people, " nodded the sergeant, proudly; "itwas, in fact, but a trifle--a brown devil brandished his yataghan at thecaptain, and I cut off his hand to prevent the execution of his plan. Now, the captain also called:

"'Sergeant Coucou!'

"'Here, ' said I. 

"'Coucou, ' he commenced, quietly, 'one never knows how these skirmishesmay end, and for the sake of life and death listen to me. Behold--I haveyet a mother--she lives in Marseilles, in the Allee de Meillan, and iscalled Madame Joliette. In case something should befall me, demand afurlough, go to France and deliver this ring to my mother. '"

"A ring?" said Monte-Cristo, wonderfully moved, while he cast a hastyglance at Mercedes. 

In a gloomy manner, but without saying a single word, Mercedes took asimple-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 wasthe wedding-ring which Edmond Dantes once presented to the Catalan, Mercedes. 

"Pardon, Edmond, " stammered the poor mother, with trembling voice, "Igave Albert the ring as a talisman--it was to bring him back!"

"I would not take the ring, " continued Coucou. "I knew that nobody wouldso easily kill the captain, and if misfortune should come to pass, itmay, 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 soonreached the defile; not a Bedouin could be discovered, and only a fewdistant barren rocks looked rather suspicious. Night set in: we thoughtof preparing our supper, but suddenly a curious noise could be heard, and the next moment we were surrounded by a swarm of Bedouins. Adesperate combat began--the shots, following in quick succession, wereenough to rouse the dead; but continually fresh combatants appeared, andwe had trouble enough to fight for our lives. Upon a bare rock Isuddenly espied a Bedouin, who had the barrel of his musket--God knowsfrom 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 verymoment both of us tumbled down more than twenty feet, and I becamesenseless. "

"But the captain?" asked the count. 

"Only a little patience, you will know all I know. When I awoke again, it was just the dawn of day--how it happened that I did not break myneck is to me even now inexplicable. I looked about for my comrades;they ought to have been in the neighborhood. I called out--everythingremained quiet; and thus I rose with painful limbs and reached the placewhere we had encamped. Here a terrible sight met me; before me lay allmy comrades, bleeding and mutilated--they had all been beheaded! Even tothis day I feel the terrible horror which overcame me at this sight--adark pool of blood surrounded the rigid bodies, and if I were to live tosee a hundred years, never shall I forget the awful spectacle. 

"After a while I began to look about among the various bodies, andsuddenly, in all my distress, I rejoiced aloud--the captain was notamong the slain. Had the Bedouins carried him away? I called out. Andonly the hoarse cry of the hyena, which waited solely for my departureto fall upon the corpses, was the answer I received. I could not attemptto bury my comrades, for the ground was rocky and I possessed no toolsfor that purpose. I spoke a short prayer for the slain, supplied myselffrom their knapsacks with plentiful ammunition, and got back to the campas well as I could. 

"When I related there what had happened, nobody at first would believeme--they reproached me with cowardice and scolded me for having left mycomrades! I became vexed; I demanded a detachment to accompany me andreturned to the scene of horror. There a still more horrible sight metme--the animals of the desert had already eaten the corpses, and onlybloody bones and portions of uniforms indicated the spot where thesurprise had taken place. Now, of course, they all were ready to believeme; we sent out scouts to all sides in order to obtain traces of thecaptain. Large amounts were offered to Arabian deserters if they woulddeliver up their prisoners, but to no purpose; the earth seemingly musthave swallowed up our captain. Only once I thought I had found sometrace of him: a marabout--one of those brawny devils who are regarded assorcerers by their countrymen--came to our camp to beg, or as wesupposed as a spy. An officer inquired of the man in my presence aboutCaptain Joliette, but he pretended to know nothing, saying he had neverheard the name, yet his eyes betrayed his treachery--oh, these Kabylesare all desperate fellows, scoundrels of the worst description. "

"Did you communicate your opinion to the officer?" inquired the count. 

"Certainly; he at first laughed at me, and when he at last resolved uponthe man being called a second time, he had already disappeared. "

"What was the name of the marabout?"

"If I recollect aright it was Elak Achel, or something like it. "

"Can you describe his appearance--had he bony cheeks, large, projectingears, and a long, pointed beard?"

"Truly, I could almost believe the marshal must have seen the scamp, "said Coucou, quite astonished. 

"Ah, no, I only guessed at it. I know some races in the desert whichcorrespond to the description you give. But another question: does itsound perhaps like Radjel el Achem?"

"Sapristi, that was the name! And now as we know his name, we will soonfind him again, " said Coucou, quite delighted. 

Mercedes rose, encouraged by fresh hopes, but Monte-Cristo put his handsoftly upon her arm and said:

"Mercedes, beware of being deceived. The words I have just spokensignify nothing--nothing but 'great sorcerer, ' and are the generalappellation of the people who operate in the south of the AlgericSahara. "

The words which Monte-Cristo quietly spoke did not fail to take effectupon Mercedes. She dropped her hands and stared sorrowfully through thewindow. 

"Is that all you know?"--the count turned toward the Zouave. 

"Unfortunately, no more, " said Coucou. At the same time, however, beingnoticed by Mercedes, he made a sign and placed his finger upon the lips. 

"In order to fulfil my promise, " continued the Zouave, "I took afurlough and came to France. I had scarcely arrived in Paris when I wasordered to this place. I brought Madame Joliette the ring, and told herwhat I had experienced. Alas! if I could only find our captain again;but, I am afraid, it is almost impossible. "

"Impossible!" called out Mercedes, throwing a supplicating look at thecount. 

"Sergeant Coucou, " said Monte-Cristo, with earnest mien, "a man shouldnever speak of impossibilities. I have often accomplished things whichothers thought impossible. "

"Yes, if you, as our commander, would take the matter in hand, thatwould be quite a different thing, " thought the Zouave, confidently. 

"Well then, I shall do my best. "

"Hurrah!--is it not so, I'm allowed to call you commander?"

"But I have already told you--"

"Let me only say so, and if you wish to oblige me, call me simplyCoucou, and all will be well. "

"I shall consider the matter. Now go down and wait for me in the street, I shall be there almost immediately. "

"At your service, commander, " said the Zouave, putting his hand to hiscap, whereupon he left. 

"Well?" inquired Mercedes, when alone with the count. 

"Mercedes, " said Monte-Cristo, with sincerity, "do not despair. All myenergy shall be devoted toward finding your son, and perhaps God will bemerciful. "

"I will believe it and not give way to despair. "

"Then farewell, Mercedes! We will soon meet again. Now I am ready tolook for Beauchamp, who, as I have heard, is again in Marseilles. "

A knock interrupted the count--the door was quietly opened and a clearvoice inquired:

"Are you alone, dear mother?"

Receiving a wink from the count, Mercedes said:

"Yes, Clary, you may enter. "

The young English lady skipped over the threshold, but she stood stilland blushed as soon as she saw the stranger. 

"My dear little friend, " said Mercedes, presenting the girl, "keeps mecompany in my desolation, and thus helps me to pass away many a wearyhour. "

The count bowed respectfully, whereupon he extended his hand to Mercedesand went away. 

"Who is the gentleman?" asked Clary, as soon as the door closed behindMonte-Cristo. 

"The Count of Monte-Cristo, " said Mercedes. 

"Was he the person whom you expected?"

"Yes. "

"Oh, then be of good cheer, " said Clary, putting her tiny hand upon herheaving breast; "something tells me that this man is almighty! Hope, Mother Mercedes--hope!"

CHAPTER XXXVIII

"SEARCH FOR THE WIFE!"

The count found the Zouave outside the house in animated conversationwith Madame Caraman. Coucou had a special predilection for the "femalesex, " and the widow of the sergeant saw in every blue-coat a comrade ofher "blessed one. "

"How do you do, madame? Surely you are the companion of the beautifullittle one up-stairs?" and he pointed at the house. 

Madame Caraman nodded. 

"Well, the little one is well cared for; I often wished that as much hadbeen done for my education, " continued the Zouave obligingly. Thecompanion laughed and soon a lively conversation commenced. Both werevery fond of chatting together, and when the count made his appearance, the Zouave grew timid and muttered:

"Dear me, the commander. "

Madame Caraman responded respectfully to the Count of Monte-Cristo'skind 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 aroundthe town, " he and Coucou got inside, where began the conversation in afriendly manner. 

"So--now tell me all you know. "

"Immediately, commander, but allow me in the meantime to remark that Inever have ridden in such a splendid carriage. "

"One must try all things, " replied the count laughing; "if I haveunderstood you rightly before it is concerning a report which has cometo the knowledge of Madame Joliette. "

"Quite right, commander. Do you see, in some things the ladies are verydistrustful--"

"The long preface makes me conclude that it is concerning a woman, "interrupted the count. 

"Not exactly a woman, she was but a child not more than fifteen years atthe utmost. "

"And this child was Captain Joliette's sweetheart?"

"Alas, God forbid--no, that was not the case. "

"Well make it short and tell the story. "

"At once, sir, " began the Zouave bowing. "One evening we had pursued atroop of Bedouins, and when night set in we were too far away from campto reach it. We lay down in a hollow; the terrible howling of panthersand hyenas was the song to put us to sleep. Toward two o'clock in themorning I awoke suddenly--the moon had risen and I saw a large dark bodyclose 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 timeto answer, I heard a cry of anguish proceeding from above the hollow--intwo 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 whitefigure and close by was an enormous panther. The yellow glowing eyes ofthe animal and its wide-open blood-red jaws terrified me--the captainheld his poniard in the right hand and hit at all sides. I intended tofire at the beast, but man and beast rolled over and over again and Iwas afraid that I might hit the captain. Now the iron grasp of thecaptain had hold of the panther's neck--the animal howled fearfully, andthe 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; thecaptain, breathing heavily, sank down quite exhausted. I hastened to hisassistance; the panther's paw had torn his breast and the wound causedhim a great deal of pain, but when I tried to dress it he refused andsaid firmly:

"Look after the little one, Coucou, don't mind me. "

I bent over the white figure; it was a beautiful girl, whose pale, wax-like face seemed to have become motionless from fright. Long darkhair hung over her tender cheeks, and on her white shoulder the paw ofthe panther had made a large open wound, from which the blood wasflowing. 

In the meantime our comrades had hastened to the spot: with their helpthe captain rose and his wound was washed and dressed. I did all I couldto revive the child, but was unsuccessful. As soon as the captain couldmove again, he ceased thinking of himself, but continually aided me inmy endeavor; bending over the wounded one, he whispered:

"'I hope she is not dead. '"

"He is not the son of his father, but of his mother, " mutteredMonte-Cristo to himself, but in a louder tone he then said:

"Who was the girl?"

"I cannot answer who she was, " replied the Zouave; "she could scarcelybe persuaded to speak, and only after many cross-questions put to her wefound out that she belonged to one of the tribes in the Sahara which wecontinually pursued. Her people ill-treated her, and she resolved to runaway. While seated among the shrubs to rest herself, all at once sheheard the growling of the animal close to her. 

"What further happened, " continued the Zouave, "I cannot tell; her woundwas, thank God! not dangerous, and we took the poor child with us to thecamp. Our camp was at that time at Laghouat, a small oasis, the springsof which were considered to possess medicinal properties, and thecaptain, together with the little one, were removed thither in sedans. Heavens! both were surprisingly beautiful--even unto this day I see thispoor young child slowly lift her large dark lashes, and open her darkalmond-shaped eyes. And the captain--oh, commander, his equal cannoteasily be met with--he was in every respect quite different from hiscomrades! With him there were no love affairs, no debts; he neverthought about himself, and in battle he was always at the head--a verypearl of an officer!"

A strange feeling came over the count as he listened to the praiseworthywords of the Zouave. Had Albert been his son he could not have been moreproud of him. Monte-Cristo was not a man of ordinary nature, otherwisehe would have shown bitter hatred toward the son of Fernand Mandego; butit appeared to him that the good qualities of the young man atoned forthe faults of the father. 

"What was the name of the girl?" he inquired afterward. 

"Medje, commander; as soon as she was able to speak the captain inquiredafter her name. But when he observed that she, perhaps, might wish toreturn to her tribe, she sobbed bitterly, and tried to show in everyrespect how much she dreaded it. Who she really was we could never makeout. In that cursed country it is quite different than with us. As soonas they can muster together ten people they imagine that they are anation, and in need of a sultan. From some expressions of Medje we couldform the idea that she was the daughter of such a sultan. The captainplaced his hand over her, and I was present when he said to her:

"'Medje, you do not seem to have a longing for your father; if you wishto remain with us I will take you under my protection, and I will carefor you as if you were my own daughter. '"

"And what answer did Medje give to that?" inquired the count, eagerly. 

"Oh, she kissed his hands, she cried for joy, and was really treatedwell by him. He acted toward her as though she were a little queen. Shehad her servants, and when the captain went out skirmishing he alwaysreminded the comrades to take care of her, who accordingly were readyand willing to put their hands under her feet!"

"What became of her afterward?"

"Yes, that is the great point at issue. When the last expedition, fromwhich the captain was not to return, was planned, Medje threw herselfaround the neck of her protector, and adjured him to remain back. Thecaptain laughed at her. She had no idea what discipline signified, and, sobbing, she repeated constantly:

"'Not go away, little papa--not going!'

"Ah, what would not I have given afterward had we taken her advice! WhenI alone returned from this unfortunate expedition, I was informed thatMedje had disappeared the same night, almost at the same hour. "

"Then the child was a spy!" exclaimed the count, displeased. "She knewabout the expedition, and informed her people accordingly. "

"At first I was of the same opinion, but later I changed it, because Ifound out that already previous to the expedition suspicious forms wereswarming about our tents. Medje had accidentally seen one of these men, and, shrieking terribly, she ran away. "

"Why did she not give warning to the captain?"

"Who could fathom that? Sure it was that a bold Bedouin, whose name wasquite sufficient to set the whole camp in commotion, and who had beenseen in the neighborhood, and--"

"What was the name of this Bedouin?" inquired Monte-Cristo, eagerly. 

"Mohammed ben Abdallah. "

"He? Are you not mistaken?" the count inquired, rather excitedly. 

"Oh, no, I have heard the name often enough. "

"And you do not know who this man really was?"

"No--probably also a marabout, a kind of juggler or sorcerer. "

"Did you acquaint your superiors of this sorcerer?" asked the countafter a while. 

"No, " replied Coucou, rather hesitatingly. 

"Then I am surprised that you acquaint me of this, " said Monte-Cristo, while he threw a penetrating glance at the Zouave. 

Coucou was silent--he could not explain even to himself wherein lay thegreat influence Monte-Cristo had over him. 

"You saw Medje constantly, " the count took up the topic once more; "haveyou never noticed anything striking about her?"

Almost frightened, Coucou looked at the count. 

"Yes, " said he, then, hesitating; "upon her two cheeks and on herforehead one could perceive a small red cross; it was tattooed by askilful hand, and seemed to become her very well. "

Monte-Cristo began to tremble. 

"Do you know, " he then said, "that Mohammed ben Abdallah is the mostcruel enemy of France, and that he has taken an oath to take vengeancefor Abd-el-Kader? If the captain has fallen into his hands then we shallnever see him again, unless by a miracle. "

"Commander, if you take the matter in hand, then a miracle will happen, "said Coucou, confidently. 

"We hope so--and now I shall ride to the hotel, and this evening at teno'clock you may there inquire for me, " said the count, quite loud; buthe gently whispered: "Mercedes, I must save your son!"

CHAPTER XXXIX

DEPEND ONLY ON YOURSELF

Arrived at the Hotel de l'Univers, the count sent his card to MonsieurBeauchamp, and as the answer of the journalist was that the count'svisit would be very agreeable to him, he went at once to MonsieurBeauchamp. 

"Welcome in Marseilles, count, " was the salute he received from theParisian. "I am glad to see you again. "

"I am also glad, " returned the count, taking the proffered hand andshaking it heartily. "Well, what news in the political world?"

"Pah! let us not speak about that. On the 24th of February, as you areaware of, the Republic was proclaimed, and at first I really believed wehad 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 makesacrifices, 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 canserve you; and, if I am not mistaken, you take an interest in Madame deMorcerf?"

"Yes; but how do you come to know all this?"

"Oh--I know you, dear count. Wherever there is any grief to alleviate, aheroic act to accomplish, the Count of Monte-Cristo is always on thespot. "

"You have a good opinion of me, " said the count, deprecatingly; "andthen, who was it that took care that the Zouave Coucou was sent here inorder to console the poor mother?"

"Pah, that was only Christian duty; and besides, Captain Joliette bearsamong his superiors an excellent name. He was always the first in themidst of the enemy's fire, and his modesty, in spite of his bravery, hasbecome proverbial among his comrades. "

"And his disappearance?"

"For myself and all others this disappearance is really a puzzle. TheArabs seldom take prisoners, and I greatly fear that he has been draggedinto the desert and killed. "

"Do you, perhaps, know of what race the Bedouins were who attacked theexpedition?" inquired Monte-Cristo, considering. 

"If I am not mistaken, they were Yavaregs. "

"Tell me what you think of the capture of Abd-el-Kader. Are you now ofopinion that Algiers will be pacified?"

"Oh, no; either early or late there will probably be found anotherleader who, under pretence of avenging Abd-el-Kader, will renew thecombat, for the Bedouins never submit. "

"Your views tally exactly with mine, and I may almost say, to my sorrow, you are in the right. The leader whose appearance you expect is alreadyannounced!"

"You joke--should I be such a good prophet? But what is the reason thatthe ministry knows nothing of his existence?"

"Oh, a ministry fares in this respect the same as the husband of afrivolous woman: all others know more of what concerns him most than hehimself. "

"You may be right. What is the name of the new Bedouin leader?"

"Mohammed ben Abdallah. "

"This name is quite strange to me. Are you not, perhaps, mistaken?"

"No, " replied Monte-Cristo, coolly, "I know what I am speaking about. The man whose name I mentioned has sworn to accept the bloody heirloomof Abd-el-Kader and before four weeks have elapsed the revolutionaryflag will again wave throughout all parts of the desert. "

"Well, I shall not doubt any further; but tell me, in what connectiondoes the soon-expected rising of the Kabyles stand with thedisappearance of Albert?"

"Who is able to tell, Monsieur Beauchamp? But now I come to the chiefpoint of my visit. You have influence in Paris?"

"Oh, dear count, had you only something to ask!"

"Perhaps I have. I should like to obtain an indefinite furlough for theZouave Coucou. "

"That shall be granted to you, you may rest assured. "

"Thanks, more I do not want. "

"But it is hardly worth while your applying to one who am in power forthe moment, a support of the Republic, in order to obtain such abagatelle. Consider, you may perhaps think of something else. "

"Yes, and have almost forgotten it, " said the count smiling, while hetore a leaf from his pocketbook and quickly wrote a few words. 

"So, " turning to Beauchamp, "permit me to hand you a small contributionfor the poor of Paris--"

"Dear count, " interrupted the journalist, quite moved, "if you considera million francs a small contribution, then I should like to see yourlarge ones. "

"My dear friend, " said the count, almost sorrowfully, "what is a millionto me with my great wealth? The sun of a poor person overweighs my gifta thousandfold. "

"Are you indeed so very rich?"

"So rich that in this respect I envy those who have yet anything to wishfor. "

"Well, who knows whether you may not one day find somebody richer thanyou. In the meantime I thank you in the name of our working-women, forwhile the men in the service of the Republic sacrifice their time thefamilies at home are obliged to suffer. "

"Distribute this money according as you think proper, and if you wish tofavor me do not bestow any of it toward public collections. I dislikethis ostentatious mode of benevolence. "

"I am of the same opinion. But now tell me how will you be able toconsole Madame de Morcerf?"

"First step here to the window, Monsieur Beauchamp; do you see the yachtwhich has her steam up?"

"Yes. What is the matter with that fine ship?"

"It will depart for foreign parts to-morrow morning. "

"And what is her destination?"

"Algiers. "

"Ah, now I understand--you are sending emissaries for the discovery ofpoor Albert. "

Monte-Cristo smiled and then said:

"Monsieur Beauchamp, if you desired to accomplish a certain thing toyour satisfaction, how would you go to work?"

"Well, that is very simple, because I should attend to it myself. "

"Then you will know whom I am sending to Algiers to find CaptainJoliette. "

"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 doubtyour courage nor energy, I must nevertheless say that your resolution isa very bold one. In Algiers it is not only necessary to combat with menwho hardly deserve the appellation, but also all the dangers of natureare there arrayed in battle against you! The simoom, the fatal breath ofthe desert, has put many a one there under the sand, and bleached bonescaution the wanderer not to set his step on the deceptive ground of theSahara!"

"Monsieur Beauchamp, " replied the count earnestly, "if you were to knowwhat I have already gone through you would not discourage me from doingmy duty. What is that to the combat with beasts in human shape which Ihave stood victoriously? No, let me go and do my duty; I am not afraidof the Sahara. "

"But the countess and her son?"

A shadow fell across Monte-Cristo's face, but his voice sounded clearand steady when he replied:

"Visit me this evening, and you shall have my answer. "

"With pleasure. Where do you live? Here in some hotel?"

"Oh, no, " said Monte-Cristo, smiling; "since a law-court has condemnedme to pay a heavy fine because I had no domicile in France, I have cometo a different conclusion. "

"How is that?"

"Well, I possess now in every large town in France a house, and in Parisand Lyons and other chief towns a palace. "

"Excellent--it is only a pity that this expedient is not at everybody'scommand. But when did this fine in money take effect? It was not Isuppose in the lawsuits you had against Andrea Cavalcanti, aliasBenedetto? Yes? But do you know what I have heard? Benedetto is said tohave escaped from Toulon. Take care of him; if there is a tiger in humanshape, it is surely Benedetto!"

"I know it, Monsieur Beauchamp, " replied the count, reluctantly;"Benedetto is the embodiment of evil principles--Satan in person! Butone day I shall stretch out my hand and order him to stop--even if Ihave to go to the corners of the world to find him, he will not escapeme. "

"To that I respond amen. As to the Jackal Coucou, take him quietly withyou. I shall take care to get him an indefinite furlough--he will renderyou good service, in the hell of Algiers which he knows as well as hispocket. But something struck me just now: accident, which often playswonderful tricks, might bring you in contact with one of our co-workers, who, Heaven knows, roves about perhaps in Timbuctoo or even Zanzibar;he sent me once a few good sketches about Abd-el-Kader, and then becamean adventurer somewhere else. "

"And this gentleman's name?"

"Gratillet. "

Monte-Cristo wrote the name in his pocketbook and then said:

"If I should happen to find Gratillet, I shall not forget yourrecommendation. "

"Thanks beforehand. Gratillet is a curious fellow, and I shall not feelsurprised if you meet him in peaceful transactions with a panther. He isnot afraid of any kind of devil. "

"Then he is the man for me. "

"And if you can prevent his entering upon further follies, you will, nodoubt, do it? I should like to establish a large journal, and Gratilletis in this case indispensable to me. "

"I shall do my utmost; although--the Sahara is great. "

"But God is greater. Then I shall be with you this evening. Where can Ifind you?"

"Only inquire for the Palace Monte-Cristo, and now adieu till later. Whoknows whether you will not now accompany me to Algeria!"

"Oh, I should certainly not feel indisposed, but my duties chain me toFrance; the battles which are still to be fought here require mypresence. "

The gentlemen separated, and while the count ordered the porter to showthe Zouave, should he inquire for him, to the palace of Monte-Cristo, Beauchamp muttered: "If there are any magicians then I have seen oneto-day!"

CHAPTER XL

THE SACRIFICE

Not far from the harbor, with a beautiful view of the sea, the VillaMonte-Cristo lay. It was like all dwellings of the count, rich andelegantly furnished, and a splendid terrace with exotic plants couldreadily induce the inhabitants to believe they were really in a tropicalregion. Parrots of many colors swung on the branches oftamarind-trees--the sycamore rustled, and leafy bananas and beautifulpalm-trees reflected their branches in the blue waters of theMediterranean sea. 

On the evening of the day Monte-Cristo arrived in Marseilles, the countsat with Haydee on the terrace. Both seemed delighted with the splendidpanorama before them, and from time to time the count rose to look afterSpero, who, bending over a book, sat reading in the adjacentconservatory. Now, Monte-Cristo remained with Haydee, who in her usualway was leaning back in an ottoman, and putting his arm around the youngwoman's neck, he whispered:

"Haydee, look at me!"

The shining dark eyes which beamed like stars gazed steadfastly upon thenoble face of her husband, and the small white hand glided softly intohis. 

"Haydee, " said Monte-Cristo, earnestly, "do you believe in me?"

Haydee raised herself half sorrowfully. 

"Do I believe in you?" she repeated, rather vexed; "are you not mymaster, my god? do we ask the slave if he believes in his employer?"

"Haydee, I am not your employer, and you are not my slave. "

"You are my husband, my all! Oh, could you read in my soul, you wouldnot question me in this manner. Listen. I was present when my father wasbetrayed and murdered--they tore me from his corpse and dragged me tothe slave market, where grief and death awaited me. "

Haydee continued: "Then you appeared--like a god you stepped before mytearful 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 Ibless the hour when first I saw you!"

Haydee drew her husband's hand to her lips, and then in a low tonecontinued:

"All my thoughts and contemplations since then were centred in you--atthat time, being afraid you would remove me from you, I was on the pointof taking my own life!"

"Haydee, what are you talking about?" muttered Monte-Cristo, confused. 

"In truth--do not try to deceive me--you intended to give me in marriageand bestow my hand on somebody else!"

"Who knows whether it would not have proved fortunate for you?"whispered the count sorrowfully. 

"Oh, Edmond, you break my heart with such words! How could I, separatedfrom you, be happy? I live, I breathe for you only, I honor you not onlyas my husband, but as the greatest, noblest man!"

"Haydee, you make me blush--I am weak and sinful the same as others!"

"No, oh, no! If you, as a chastening angel, caused the guilty tovindicate themselves, and recompensed what is good; you seemed to mealmost god-like. You raised me to be your wife; to you I am indebted forthe greatest happiness of a woman, the happiness of possessing a darlingchild, and Spero is the more dear to me as he promises to be your veryimage. "

Monte-Cristo threw a timid glance at Spero, who was still diligentlyreading by his lamp, and then cordially said:

"Haydee, then you never regretted having bestowed your hand on me?"

"Never. "

"I have never caused you any pain?"

"None--I am the happiest of women. "

"And if circumstances occurred which would compel me to give you pain?"

"Then I would submit to your intelligence and not complain. "

"Also if I were to destroy your happiness forever?"

"Even then--I would live in the past and be rich. "

"Then listen to me, Haydee--we must separate. "

"Separate?" repeated Haydee, leaping up terrified and her eyes fillingwith tears. 

"Yes--for some time--a few months. "

"Thy will be done, " uttered Haydee sighing; "I know that a sacred dutycalls you away, and God will strengthen me to bear the trial!"

"Thanks, Haydee, for this word--it will accompany me when I am away fromyou!"

"And to what place does your duty call you?"

"To Algiers--in the desert! I am obliged to return a son to his mother, or even die, if circumstances should become mightier than my will. "

"To Algiers? But why am I not allowed to accompany you? You know thatwith you I am not afraid of any danger, and--"

Haydee became suddenly silent. She noticed that her husband's eye, remarkably sorrowful, turned from her and Spero, and bending her littlehead she whispered:

"Forgive me. I know that I dare not leave Spero. "

Monte-Cristo trembled. The most difficult was to come yet. 

"Haydee, " he then said, softly, "you cannot accompany me. I shallexplain to you immediately why it cannot be. Not because you dare notleave Spero--"

He stopped short. The expression of terror in Haydee's beautiful eyesbenumbed him. 

"What do you mean by that?" she ejaculated, pale and trembling. "You donot intend to rob me of my last consolation, do you?"

"Compose yourself, Haydee. Remember the words which you uttered justnow. Yes, I leave you, and take Spero with me. "

"Spero--to go away with you!" groaned the young wife, with pantingbreast; "oh, my lord and master, that you cannot really mean! You do notwish to kill me, and--"

"Haydee, you once told me your life is in my hands. "

"That I am still ready to acknowledge. Here is my poniard. Kill me, butleave me my child!"

In consternation the young wife pulled a dagger sparkling with diamondsout of her waist, and offered it to Monte-Cristo. 

"Strike!" she said, with faltering voice. "What good am I in this worldif you and Spero leave me? Well, why are you hesitating? Take my heartout of me, but leave me Spero. "

She knelt at Monte-Cristo's feet, and embraced his knee. 

Suddenly her eye flashed, and she cried, animated with fresh hopes:

"Indeed, my beloved, I think you only intended to try me. You will notcrush me; you will be persuaded. Oh, make an end of this torment. Tellme that you do not wish my death. "

"Haydee, " replied Monte-Cristo, with stern forehead, "you know that Ionly fulfil my duty, and instead of assisting me to smooth the path forme, you refuse to bear your share of the burden. "

"I do not understand you, " uttered Haydee. 

"I must depart, and Spero has to accompany me; but if I do not consent, my dear Haydee, for you to accompany us, it is for the reason that youhave a mission to fulfil here. "

Haydee remained on her knees, but her tears ceased. 

Oh, what mastery did not this man exercise over her! The heart was readyto break, and yet she could not do otherwise; she was obliged to obeyhim. 

"Haydee, " remarked Monte-Cristo, quietly, "surely you do not believethat I give you pain unless compelled to do so?"

"No, oh, no, " sighed the young wife, throwing herself in his arms. "Speak, what is to happen?"

"Listen. Behold, ten years ago I brought you to Monte-Cristo, and theredisclosed 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 efficacioushenceforth wherever I am able to protect the innocent in order to atonein case I carried my zeal too far. Among others who suffered much frommy vengeance were Mercedes and her son. You know the love I bestowedupon this Catalonian, and I have not concealed from you that the rage ofbeing disappointed in her furnished my arm with weapons againstFerdinand Mandego, the murderer of your father. 

"I stretched out my hand, the avenging flash of lightning struck, andFerdinand Mandego died--his wife and his son felt the heavy blow in allits bitterness, but the further consequences of my deed I had notconsidered! Albert de Morcerf has disappeared, his mother despairs, andit is myself who have chased him to death! Haydee, should you like tosee your husband a hangman?"

"Oh, Edmond, do not speak thus! You did not intend anything wrong; youare great and noble!"

"No, I profess to be so, and that is my crime. I made Albert de Morcerfsuffer for the deed of his father; I clothed myself with divine majestyand exercised justice with human hands! Do you now understand, Haydee, that I must stake my life, in order to restore to Mercedes her son, thatI, who punished others, may become reconciled with myself?"

Haydee sighed--she was conquered. 

"But, " commencing anew with trembling voice, "also I am a mother, and myson--"

"Your son, Haydee, " interrupted Monte-Cristo, with flaming eyes, "yourson shall be made worthy of you. The world calls him the son of theCount of Monte-Cristo--let him be deserving of this title! Spero isnoble and courageous; he knows what is good and evil, and his pure heartI am proud of. To be just he believes to be his aim--to be just means tocombat for what is good. In the midst of approaching dangers you neversaw me trembling; with firm step I faced all danger and death; and Speroshall be trained to act in the same manner. The terror of the desertshall not make him turn pale--he is to face danger and learn to becomeworthy of the mission his father began, in order to accomplish it. 'Noble be man, efficacious and good'--may this poetical phrase be hisshield, and may God guide him in his ways! Answer me, Haydee--is Speroto accompany me?"

"Yes, " escaped in a low tone, like a breath, from the lips of the youngwife. 

"Thanks, Haydee; now listen as to what your mission consists of. You areyourself a mother--and you will know how to console a mother. Mercedes--enter!"

The door leading to the terrace opened, and Mercedes with totteringsteps approached Haydee. 

"Haydee, " said Monte-Cristo, turning toward his wife, "here is Mercedes, whom you have known through me for some time. "

Haydee hastened toward Mercedes with extended arms. 

"Be welcome, dear friend, " she accosted her with a sweet, melodiousvoice. 

"Oh, how beautiful you are, " muttered Mercedes, looking at the youngwife admiringly. 

"Madame, " stammered Haydee, blushing, "I give you my most valuablepossessions, my husband and my son. "

"Your son?" repeated Mercedes, with emotion. 

"Spero--come this way, " said the count. 

The boy sprang toward him--Mercedes looked at him and sobbed bitterly. 

"Papa, why is she crying?" whispered Spero. 

"Because she is reminded of her son who is in peril of death, " repliedthe count significantly. 

"In danger of death?" Spero repeated quickly; "oh, papa, why do we nothasten to his rescue?"

Monte-Cristo lifted the boy joyfully in his arms and kissed himpassionately. 

"How is it, " said Haydee, alike proud and sorrowful, "will you leave me, Spero?"

"Oh, mamma--to hasten to aid the unfortunate is our first duty, and youyourself have taught me it, " replied Spero, embracing the young wife. 

Now Bertuccio appeared. 

"Count, " said he, "here is a soldier who desires to speak to you!"

"Ah--the Zouave Coucou--let him come in!"

The Jackal entered and inquiringly looked around--yes, here it wasalmost as nice as in Africa. 

"Coucou, " the count commenced, "I have obtained for you an unlimitedfurlough. "

Coucou scratched his head. 

"Well--is it, perhaps, not acceptable to you?"

"Not exactly that, commander, but what am I to do in the interveningtime? Africa's sun, the Bedouins, the Jackals, nay even the Hyenas Ishall miss. "

"Well, perhaps we can find a remedy--to-morrow at daybreak we depart forAlgiers. "

"To Algiers--is that true?" joyfully exclaimed Coucou, throwing his capin the air and making a salute, which perhaps was not fashionable, butnevertheless significant. 

"Excuse me, commander, " he stammered, placing his hand on his cap, "I amovercome with joy! God be praised, now we shall find my good captain!"

"That I also hope, Coucou. "

"But how is it with her ladyship, commander?" asked Coucou doubtfully;"is she satisfied?"

"Ask her yourself, " said Monte-Cristo. 

"Madame, " Coucou said turning toward Haydee, "you have a brave husband, and as long as Coucou lives nobody shall touch a hair of his head!"

Haydee smiled amid her tears, and the count said:

"Coucou--here is my son, he will accompany us!"

"The little fellow--_Sapristi_--that is grand! the young gentleman isthe little corporal--do you like the title, my young master?"

Spero, clapping his hand joyfully into the proffered one of the Zouave, cried out laughingly:

"I shall do my best to earn my epaulets!"

"Go now, Coucou, " said Monte-Cristo, "and do not fail to be at theharbor at six o'clock to-morrow morning. "

"I will not fail, commander. "

The Zouave, placing his hand to his cap, went away. 

CHAPTER XLI

HOW AND WHERE COUCOU TOOK LEAVE

In a beautiful garden, adjacent to a small splendid villa, Clary Ellisthis evening walked irresolutely to and fro. Madam Caraman, with whomthe young girl had a lively conversation, had retired, as she stated, towork on the veranda, and Clary was reflecting on the conversation. 

When the young girl had, in the afternoon, seen the count at Mercedes', she had become quite inquisitive to know something more about thestranger; the way and manner, however, Mercedes answered her questionsin nowise satisfied her curiosity. 

The count was an old friend of the family, was Mercedes' answer; he hadknown her son, previous to going to Africa, and he had always felt alively interest for him. 

Clary had accepted this explanation without putting confidence in it;she saw that Mercedes tried to hide something from her and that vexedher. 

Madame Caraman had the next day called for her _protégée_, and inwalking home together, she said:

"Do you know, Clary, what I have heard to-day--the Count of Monte Cristois said to be in Marseilles. "

"Well, what is there remarkable in that?" Clary calmly asked. "Have younot seen him then?"

"Seen him--where?" responded Madame Caraman, stupefied. 

"Dear me, he just left as I came to Madame Joliette. You were waitingoutside the house and could not have failed to see him. "

"Oh, Lord! could the gentleman who rode off with the Zouave have beenthe count?" remarked Madame Caraman, quickly. 

"No doubt; a slender, pale man, with dark hair. "

"That I should not have known it!--where must my eyes have been?"lamented Madame Caraman, and in the meantime both had reached the villa, and Clary said carelessly:

"Please come with me in the garden, Madame Caraman; I like to hear moreparticulars about this Count of Monte-Cristo. "

"But, Clary, " said the French lady with astonishment, "have you neverheard of the count? What do they read yonder in England?"

"Oh, various matters--but what has this to do with the count?"

"More than you think of; you have stocked in your little heart a greatdeal of ballast, and neglected the most necessary things. Do you knowthe author Alexandre Dumas?"

"Only as far as the name is concerned. "

"H'm--I thought so; yes--France does not for no purpose possess thecredit of being at the head of civilization. "

"But Mamma Caraman, when are we then to return to our subject, thecount?" asked Clary, impatiently. 

"At once. Alexandre Dumas has written many romances, and one of themost interesting is 'The Count of Monte-Cristo. '"

"Mamma Caraman, " said Clary, vexed, "how is it that you intend to dishup for me such a childish fable?"

"But I am speaking seriously; Dumas has rendered more service for thegeneral education of the people than ten ministers. In his 'ThreeGuardsmen, ' for instance, one gets thoroughly acquainted with thehistories of Richelieu, Anna of Austria and Louis XIII. , in a veryinteresting manner. In the 'Count of Monte-Cristo' the shortcomings andfaults of the government after the overthrow of the great emperor areunsparingly exposed, and in the same way every work of the greatnovelist offers special merits. The more I think of it the more clearlyI understand it, that we also have in your friend, Madame Joliette, acharacter of the novel before us. Her name is Mercedes, and she is nodoubt Madame de Morcerf. And the name of her son?"

"Albert. "

"Well, there it is; the father was a scamp, who shot himself, the sonand the wife resigned their possessions and then disappeared fromsociety. It will perhaps be best if I send the servant to a library toget the romance; I wager that you will not put the book aside till youhave perused it all through?"

Clary nodded and ten minutes later she sat with glowing cheeks andbeating heart absorbed in the reading of this interesting novel. Shesympathized with Edmond Dantes and Faria, she wept with Mercedes, shehated Villefort, lamented for Madame Danglars, was enthusiastic forValentine, admired Maximilian and breathed much easier when Madame deVillefort, the inhuman poisoner, had ended her evil career. And over allthese personages hovered in wonderful glory the modern knight withoutfear and blame, the chastising judge, the noble benefactor. Monte-Cristoseemed to the young girl like a god, and when darkness set in and MadameCaraman looked about for her _protégée_, Clary embraced her and said, sobbing:

"Oh, Mamma Caraman, how beautiful is the romance and how happy do I feelto have seen the count! Yes, so, just so, he ought to appear; oh, Alexandre Dumas is a great man!"

Madame Caraman smiled; she did not expect anything else. Both ladiesconversed then more explicitly of the various persons in the romance, and afterward the companion withdrew, as already mentioned, to theveranda to work, and Clary remained, absorbed in a reverie, sitting in alittle pavilion ornamented with flowers. 

How long she had been meditating she was unable to tell, when all atonce without the garden wall a curious noise was heard. Clary lifted herhead and listened; the reading had excited her to the extent that atthis moment a spectral appearance would have come not unexpectedly andyet she quite plainly noticed a sparkling pair of eyes, whichinquiringly turned in all directions. Clary did not stir. A cloud, whichup to that moment hid the moon, broke, and the girl recognized theZouave, who sat upon the wall and then slipped down into the garden. Coucou seemed to know that he was trespassing upon strange ground; helistened for a while, and as everything seemed quiet he selected thewalk which led to the veranda. 

At the veranda a lamp was burning, and close by stood a basket filledwith various skeins and balls of wool, while Madame Caraman sat in herchair snoring comfortably. The Jackal remained motionless at the foot ofthe veranda and looked up, and as nothing seemed to move, he soonresolved to climb the fence, which was closed by the stairs leading intothe garden. 

As soon as the Jackal saw Madame Caraman, he became rather agitated; hethought of his mother, and yet he was aware that this lady appeared faryounger and more elegant than his mother, even were she alive. With hishands folded over his breast, he looked at the sleeping woman; he didnot anticipate that Clary, hid behind a tamarind-tree, watched all hismovements and almost broke her head in considering what motive broughtthe Zouave to this spot. 

Now Coucou approached the companion, but the noise woke Madame Caraman, and uttering a half-suppressed shriek she jumped up and looked drowsilyat the intruder. She recognized only the form of a man, andinstinctively grasping after the first object at hand, she took hold ofthe work-basket and threw it with all her might at the Zouave. Thebasket hit Coucou's head and clapped itself like a helmet over his face, while the wool skeins became entangled in his hair, tickling his noseand causing a violent cough and continual sneezing. 

The lady now first recognized the brave Jackal, and considering theawkward situation he was placed in, she could not help bursting into aloud laugh. In vain Coucou tried to rid himself of the wool threads; hecoughed and sneezed uninterruptedly, and the basket seemed to cling moretightly to his face. At length the French lady took pity on him andhelped him to remove the basket, and then in a voice of merriment whichshe could not suppress she said:

"Well, Monsieur Jackal, you will perhaps tell me what induced you tocome here?"

Coucou was ready to answer, but the wool threads prevented him, andwhile Madame Caraman again broke out laughing, and Clary, below in thegarden, suffered from suffocation, because she felt obliged to suppressher laughter in order not to betray her presence, the Zouavebreathlessly gasped:

"One--drop--of water--I suffocate!"

Madame Caraman was not cruel. She handed the Jackal a glassful of water, and as the cough would not stop, she took from the sideboard a bottlefilled with cordial and offered it to the soldier with these words:

"There, drink a drop, you big scamp, and then explain your presencehere. "

The Zouave cast a grateful glance at the lady and took a long draughtout of the bottle. 

"Sapristi!" he then exclaimed, smacking his tongue, "that is anexcellent drop!"

"Bah, never mind the drop now, but answer my question, " rejoined thelady. "What are you looking for here?"

"I--intended--"

"Quick, and do not stutter so awfully. Is it lawful at night and indarkness to enter a strange abode and to frighten people?"

"Alas, I shall certainly never do it again, " stammered poor Coucou, crestfallen. "I came here, because--"

"Dear me, I almost believe you have lost your power of speech, "laughingly interrupted Madame Caraman. 

"Not exactly, madame, but behold, there are moments in the life of asoldier--"

"In which he proves himself especially stupid, " added Madame Caramanimpatiently; "stick to your subject. "

Coucou bowed, as if a compliment were paid him. 

"Madame, " he commenced again, "Providence permitted us to-day to meeteach other--"

"Providence?" repeated the lady in great merriment; "Mr. Zouave, youseem to me to be getting a little crazy!"

"Oh, madame, " said Coucou ardently, "it will not offend you, if I tellyou that I find you exceedingly--and, speaking plainly, consider youquite lovely! Call me impertinent, madame: but believe my assurance thatI 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 whounderstood how to win my heart till I this day met you!"

Madame Caraman was, indeed, Clary's governess, but she was, first ofall, a wife, and Coucou's words were repugnant to her. 

"Monsieur Zouave, " she replied, "I am forty-two years old" (unwittinglyshe skipped a few), "and you may call yourself lucky that I do not minda joke--"

"A joke? But I can take an oath--"

"Do not swear, " interrupted the lady, in a menacing manner, "but let mespeak. 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 amemployed by a greatly esteemed and amiable young girl, and as you havewithout the slightest pretext entered here, you have forfeited therespect which you owe the owner of this villa. Thus you know now whatyou ought to know, and mark it down for the future, Monsieur Zouave. "

Coucou felt as if it were best for him to sink into the ground; red likea peony he began to stutter:

"Pardon me, I intended nothing wrong!"

The widow of the gendarme officer had compassion on his embarrassment. 

"Well, do not take it to heart too much, " she said, kindly. "I do notbite anybody! You are, after all, a soldier, and if you do your duty, you cannot always touch everything with kid gloves. My dear departedhusband often told me so, and therefore console yourself and listen tome. I am ready to pardon you, but only under one condition. "

"Oh, under all conditions, even ever so difficult, " ejaculated Coucou, lively. "Speak, please; what am I to do?"

"Not much, but to tell me, quite openly, why you have come to this placethis evening?"

"Only to see you. "

"Indeed! Well, I must confess I like you! So you have fallen in lovewith me, like a student at a boarding-school, and in order to satisfyyour suddenly aroused desires you creep at night into other people'shouses! Do you know how these fellows are generally styled?"

Coucou bent his head, and Madame Caraman earnestly continued:

"Would it not be more simple and also more becoming, if you were tocome here to-morrow by daylight, and ask for admittance?"

"But that is just the thing, " despairingly exclaimed Coucou, "for methere is no morning!"

"What does that all mean?"

"Well, what I say is, that for me there is no morning here!"

"Lord and Saviour, how am I to understand this nonsense?" said MadameCaraman, impatiently. 

Coucou changed his tactics. 

"Madame, " said he with emphasis, "I will admit that my uncalled-forentrance here was certainly quite wrong, but you ought not to considerit in the light of an offence. "

"I hope so, " replied the companion respectfully, "and I am ready to lookfor any proofs thereof. "

The Zouave again looked down quite abashed. 

"It passed previously through my head, " he commenced, ratherdiscouraged, "that you perhaps would show a little interest for me--"

"Always worse--you are getting impertinent!"

"No, no, madame, that I am not; only allow me to explain. Consider, I ama soldier; the regiment is my home, and I have neither father nor motherwho care for me. Taking it all in all, I do not mind that; I fight withthe Kabyles, and when one day my end approaches, nobody will have tomourn for me. But you appear to me so kind and trustworthy, that Satanurged me on, and as I shall probably never see you again--"

"Ah, and why not?"

"I bid you farewell, for to-morrow morning it will be all over. "

"Well, not so hasty; don't jump immediately from one extreme toanother, " scolded Madame Caraman, who against her own desire felt somesympathy, although she tried to hide it; "tell me now exactly the wholeproceeding; otherwise you seem to be a brave fellow, and it would be apity for the uniform you wear were it not so. Well, then, speak out;what is the matter to-morrow?"

"Alas, madame, your kindness encourages me. Only consider, if a man ison the point of leaving his home, and perhaps forever, he is longing tosay to somebody good-by, and when on such an occasion a beautiful womanshakes hands and says, 'Farewell, my boy, ' then it surely brings luck!"

"But, Monsieur Zouave, you speak in riddles to me. Where are you going, if I may put the question?"

"To Algiers, in the desert, and then further. "

"But you are returning to your regiment?"

"God forbid. I have an unlimited furlough. "

"By my life, it requires a corkscrew in order to get the words out ofyour mouth! Plainly told, what mean all these preliminaries?"

"Well, you know already that the son of Madame Mercedes, CaptainJoliette, has disappeared. I am attached to my captain and--"

"Quick, make haste, I am fast losing all patience!"

"To-day a pale-looking man with sparkling dark eyes, and coal-black hairand beard, told me that he starts to-morrow morning in order to searchfor Captain Joliette, and intends to take me with him!"

Neither the Zouave nor Madame Caraman heard the half-suppressedexclamation, which had just occurred close to the veranda; MadameCaraman felt astonished, and rising suddenly asked almost breathlessly:

"If I understand rightly, then, the Count of Monte-Cristo intendssearching the Sahara for Captain Joliette?"

"Yes, that is the case, and I accompany him. For such an expeditioncourage is the first requirement, and, as I do not lack any, the counthas selected me. Now, you know all and wherefore I came; I did not wishto vex you, and now I depart again. Adieu, Madame Caraman!"

The Zouave swung his cap and turned round ready to depart. The ladylooked at him with mingled feelings; she was a kind-hearted soul and thebrave Zouave amused her. She never had a son, but she thought, if Godhad presented her with one, he ought to have resembled the Jackal. Thathe came to bid her good-by, moved her, and she said in a half-audiblevoice:

"Monsieur Zouave!"

Coucou remained standing. 

"Come this way! Are you, perhaps, afraid of me? On previous occasionsyou were less timid. "

Coucou's hesitating steps justified this suspicion, and Madame Caramancontinued, smilingly:

"I shall not hurt you; there, put your hand into mine--" Coucou blushedlike a girl. 

"What? I should be allowed to put my ugly paw into your hand!" hestuttered quite confounded, and then he perceived that he had been againrude and tried to excuse himself. 

"I spoke of my ugly paw--I--"

"Never mind that, " the lady interrupted him; "there, shake hands andthink that I am your mother!"

"You my mother?" said Coucou laughing, with tears in his eyes; "oh, nosuch thing; then you must act differently! When I took leave of my poormother, 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 headbetween my shoulders!"

Madame Caraman wiped a tear from her eye, and then she took the head ofthe Zouave between her hands and did exactly like his mother. 

"Hurrah, Mother Caraman, " called out Coucou joyfully; "you are anexcellent mother! Farewell, and if God spares me, I hope we may meetagain!"

"I hope so, my boy, " said Madame Caraman with faltering voice. "Godprotect you and grant that you may again find your captain! It will allbe right in course of time--adieu!"

The Zouave made two long strides in getting downstairs, and in a momenthe had reached and climbed the garden-wall. Placing himself upon it, heswung his cap, and calling aloud, "Adieu, Mother Caraman, " disappeared. 

"A real Parisian boy, " muttered Madame Caraman to herself: "a hot-headedfellow with a golden heart. It would grieve me should I not see himagain. "

A soft hand now touched the lady's shoulder, and looking up sheperceived her _protégée_, who stood before her smiling. 

"Is it you, Clary, " said the companion rather awkwardly, while shechanged color and became red and white, by turns, "you have then--"

"Seen and heard the Zouave, " rejoined the young girl, laughing. 

"But I can assure you--he came--I am not answerable--the garden-wall--"

"I know, I know, Mamma Caraman, " interrupted Clary. "You do not thinkthat I am going to reproach you? So Coucou goes to Algiers?"

"Yes, in order to search for Captain Joliette; the count--"

"I know all, " said Clary, hastily placing her finger upon thegoverness's lips; "they are going, but it is all chance--"

"Yes, all chance work in a desert. It is terrible! Think only of thesimoom, the sand, the Kabyles, and the wild animals!"

"Have you the map of Algiers at hand?"

"Yes, here is the atlas. "

Clary knelt close to the chair of the governess, who had the atlas onher lap, and after they had studied minutely all the mountains anddeserts of Africa, she suddenly inquired:

"How do people travel in the Sahara?"

"In caravans, with camels and negroes. It is a troublesome journey, dearchild, and--"

"Mamma Caraman, how much money have we at present in hand?" suddenlyinterrupted Clary. 

The governess drew a pocketbook out of her work-basket, and, examiningthe contents, said:

"About three hundred pounds sterling, or seven thousand five hundredfrancs. "

"That is very little, " said Clary. 

"We have besides bills of exchange to the amount of one hundred thousandfrancs. "

"What may be the time now?"

"Nearly ten o'clock, Clary. "

"Well, then, please have our horses ready. "

"Our horses, at this time?" said the governess, alarmed. 

"Yes, at once. Hurry your toilet; I shall do the same, and thengood-by. "

"But, Clary, what do you intend to do?"

"Mamma Caraman, I am not yet quite clear upon that point, but on theroad to Marseilles you shall know everything. Apropos, take the threehundred pounds with you. "

"You are not thinking, surely, of spending the money this very evening?"

"H'm, who knows. At any rate take also the bills of exchange, and now goand make haste. "

Clary soon got away, and the astonished governess had no otheralternative than to obey the orders of the spoiled child. Ten minuteslater both ladies sat in their saddles, and rode, accompanied by agroom, toward the town. 

CHAPTER XLII

IN THE SPIDER'S WEB

If one passes in Marseilles from Main Street across Villeneuve Place, and turns into Prison Street, there appears a dirty old house justopposite this street, which upon a signboard bears the appellation: "TheBig Spider. " This house is a resort for sailors of the worst kind, and, as soon as darkness sets in, becomes crowded with customers, whosephysiognomies are anything but encouraging. The worst of vices foundhere in the Big Spider their formation, and the scum of all parts of theworld used to assemble here. In fact, the whole surroundings of thatquarter were nicknamed "The Spider Quarter, " and many a one who hadentered the quarter with well-filled pockets never left it again. The"Spider's web" closed upon him, and he was lost; for the walls neverbetrayed what passed behind them, nor did the inhabitants feel anydesire to do so. 

In the dark smoky rooms alcoholic drinks were the principal beverage, and characterless women shared and indulged in the drunken revels. Continual strife and quarrels in which the knife was the chief weaponwere always going on, while the police took good care not to come intocontact with the guests of the Spider. At present, of course, theSpider's Quarter has ceased to exist, and one who nowadays perceives thewell-lighted streets will hardly believe what a place it formerlywas--_tempora mutantur_. While the Zouave Coucou took leave in thevilla, a mixed company, like on all other nights, had gathered togetherin the Spider. English, French, Maltese, Italians and Spanish sailorssat round the heavy oak tables; girls in curious dresses, whose paintedcheeks showed plainly the traces of debauchery, thronged around a femalecard conjurer, who in a corner was performing her black art, while awoman with a harp was waiting with her old instrument till called uponto play or sing before the company. Here and there sat groups of men andwomen on whose foreheads vice was plainly written, and according as thedice rolled and the cards dropped, there could be heard curses andimprecations, as well as shouts of joy. The atmosphere was impregnatedwith the filthy oil of the dimly lighted lamps, the odor of alcoholicdrinks, and the poisonous smell of tobacco. 

It was almost midnight when a new-comer entered. The man wore a shortjacket, a red girdle held the dark trousers around the waist, and abroad-brimmed oilcloth hat sat at an angle upon a head full of richred-blond hair. The beard of the man was red and thick, while his formshowed that he was possessed of great muscular power. 

It was plain that the stranger was an English sailor, and the sharpaccent with which he gave his orders to the morose landlord, of whom hedemanded a mixture of rum and cordial, testified to this supposition. The host, who was a suspicious-looking individual with piercing blackeyes, which wickedly squinted from under a pair of peculiar thickeyelashes, soon brought the drink to the sailor, and while placing thetin can containing the hot beverage on the table, he held out his righthand to receive payment; for in the Spider the rule is: "First pay andthen you may drink. " The sailor did not seem to relish this custom; hedrew a heavy purse from his pocket, took out a gold piece and threw iton the table. 

While the host took the gold piece, a louis d'or, and curiously lookedat it, more than twenty eyes turned greedily upon the sailor; thecustomers of the Spider knew well the sound of the gold pieces. Out ofpure mischief the host tried the sound of the gold piece again on thetin can, and then smilingly placed it in his pocket: again, suspiciouslooks turned upon the man who paid in gold, and their bewilderment wasincreased as the stranger refused the change. "Keep it for yourself, "said he, loud enough to be heard. The landlord, who understood manylanguages, shook his head and dryly replied:

"Keep your money, old fellow--I only take my due. "

The Englishman felt vexed, struck with his fist on the table, took holdof the tin can and emptied the drink with one draught. 

"You decline my money?" he asked with a strong English accent. 

"I do not say so, " added the host, in a half-satisfactory tone, "butto-day and to-morrow do not resemble each other, and what you bestow onme to-day you may rue to-morrow. "

"That concerns no one but myself, " exclaimed the sailor; "if I like tobe generous, I have a right to be so. Yes or no--will you accept themoney?"

"No, braggart, I do not need your money! The host of the Big Spider isricher than you!"

"Richer than I am? Who the dickens can say so?" ejaculated the sailor ina rage, and pulling out his purse and opening it he threw all itscontents on the table. A heap of gold rolled on the oaken surface, andwith loud shouting the guests around the table jumped up. 

Only the landlord looked upon it indifferently. 

"Englishman, you are a fool, " he muttered half aloud; "you wish to beduped under all circumstances! Beware!"

"Shut up, " shouted the sailor, and turning toward the rest, he said in alow voice:

"Do you know what the host has just whispered to me? He cautions me tobe on my guard; he seemingly believes that you intend to murder me inorder to get my money!"

A death-like silence followed these bold words, and the eyes of allpresent turned with unmistakable eagerness upon the heap of gold. Mostof these miserable beings had already often bathed themselves knee-deepin blood; and therefore to commit murder was a bagatelle, as long as itbrought profit. 

The landlord, shrugging his shoulders, returned to his place near thedoor; he would let the sailor take his own part, if he really wanted tobe stupid. 

Now, a large fellow, a Provencal, approached and placed himself on aseat right before the Englishman, and was at once ready to take hold ofthe money. 

"Old fellow, " said he, grumbling, "is that lot of money really your ownproperty?"

"Yes, all honestly earned money. "

"H'm--that I care for but very little. Do you know, I am just atpresent short of cash, and I suppose you will not hesitate to lend afriend a helping hand, eh? Well, then, I'll take just what I am in wantof. "

The hand of the Provencal selected a few gold pieces, but almost at thesame time he shouted aloud and staggered back. 

The sailor, with a vise-like grip, grasped the wrist of the intruder andhe soon dropped the gold pieces. 

The Provencal gnashed his teeth in rage, and, rubbing his bruised wrist, muttered:

"If you do not wish your sinful money to be touched, then you should notexpose it so boastingly! You will not even assist me a little? It standsto reason that later on I will pay you everything back: well, are yousatisfied?"

"No, " replied the sailor coolly, "go to the devil! Away--do not touch mymoney; I can skin you!"

"Ah, that we shall soon see, " loudly exclaimed the Provencal, andputting his hand in his pocket he produced a large knife. At the sametime he uttered a few words to his comrades in their own jargon, andimmediately the sailor was surrounded by a dozen men whose hands werearmed with glittering knives. 

The Englishman seemed, however, not in the least affected; he put themoney all in one heap, and placing himself with his back toward thewall, he crossed his arms over his chest, and asked, scornfully:

"What do you mean to do? Are you really ready to murder me?"

"Keep your peace, braggart! You wish to entice us with your money. Giveus half of it, or you will not fare very well here. Well, are youwilling to divide?"

"I don't know about that. If anybody in my part of the country says 'Iwill, ' then he must prove that he is also able. "

"What does this all mean? Do you think of defying us?"

"I am ready for you. Just come on, if you think proper!"

"Stand back, comrades!" exclaimed the Provencal, "I will teach himsomething better. Just wait, John Bull, you will soon know me; I'll getthe best of you, and then we will divide the spoils. "

"Yes, yes!" the others cried, "let us divide!"

"Keep quiet, " said the Englishman, coolly. "You want a regular fightwith 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 hedrew from his pocket a small, brightly polished poniard about three orfour inches long, which looked more like a lady's plaything thananything else. 

The shabby lot laughed at him loudly; and, comparing the Catalonianknives they handled with the sailor's poniard, it appeared like asewing-needle. 

"Perhaps you think I am a tailor?" said the Provencal, scornfully; "andhave you not also a measure in your pocket?"

"Large words, large knives, and that is all, " said the sailor, contemptuously. "Listen. I make you an offer: if you can touch me, themoney is yours; and, mark well, not only half, but the whole of it!"

"Agreed. Comrades, step aside!"

With a push of his foot the Provencal cleared one of the tables; therest did the same in putting tables and chairs aside for an open space. The host alone remained passive; he had seen enough of theseoccurrences, and was in nowise astonished. Even the female portion ofthe guests seemed to take an interest in the combat; everywhere youcould see glittering eyes awaiting the spectacle to come, and now andthen the call went forth: "The impertinent fool!" "Well, the Provencalwill teach him better!" "Just look, the poniard is set with diamonds!""Where could he have stolen it?" "Perhaps from his sweetheart. Ha! ha!ha!"

One of the guests, however, did not share in the general noise. He was aman who sat at a side table, his head resting in both his hands, so thathis face could not exactly be recognized. Raven black long hair, slightly tinged with gray, fell down on his broad shoulders; the manwore sailor's clothes, but they looked tattered and worn out. Before himstood a large, half-emptied bottle of liquor. He sat motionless, and, inspite of the noise around him, remained at the table without stirring. The glance of the English sailor was at different times directed towardhim, and it even seemed as if he wanted to speak to him, but nobodynoticed it. 

Now the Provencal approached the Englishman. It was quite a sight to seehim standing with spread-out legs, half-naked, hairy arms, muscularchest, the knife lifted up in his right hand, and a vulgar smile on histhick lips, and many a one would have considered twice before heventured on such a task. His age was, no doubt, about forty, and hisglaring eyes glanced continually from the Englishman to the gold, andthen again at his comrades, as if intending to say:

"Just be a little patient, I'll procure the prize for us. "

The Englishman too had arisen. His slender figure appeared almostmeagre when compared with his opponent, and yet his dark eyes lookedaround steadily and quietly. Either he plays with the danger threateninghim, or he is not able to see it; one stroke of the Provencal wassufficient to batter down the Englishman, and what use is the neatlittle weapon in comparison with the terrible large knife?

"Are you ready?" shouted aloud the Provencal. 

"Yes, bandit, " sounded loudly in reply. 

The sailor leaned with his back to the wall; a retrograde movement wasimpossible, and yet--yet the Provencal began to press him closely. Theknife glittered--a jump--and the Provencal shrieked with pain and sankto the ground. The poniard of the Englishman had penetrated deeply intothe hand which held the knife; a dark stream of blood flowed from thewound, when the sailor drew out the point of the blade, and theProvencal screamed in his agony:

"Wait, miserable juggler, you will suffer for it. "

Breathing heavily he stepped back a few paces, and again swinging hisknife, he threw it quickly at the face of the sailor. The sailor hadlifted his left hand, and in a second struck the weapon as it fell; theknife whirled around, and the next moment the Englishman caught it inhis hand. Triumphantly he swung round the knife in his left, and theponiard in his right hand; the Provencal uttered a heavy curse, andwithdrawing the knife from a comrade standing behind him, he prepared toagain attack his opponent. 

The Englishman allowed him to approach; but as soon as he was ready tojump at him, he threw away poniard and knife, took hold of theProvencal 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 atable some distance off. 

The Provencal howled with rage; and the breaking of the bottles andglasses scattered glass all over the place, causing many bloody handsand heads. The giant bled from a wound on his forehead, and, turning tohis comrades, he called aloud:

"Kill him, ye _canaille_! Can you look on quietly when he is killingme?"

Irresolute, the crowd stared at the sailor, and he, taking advantage ofthe momentary quietness, jumped over tables and benches into a corner, where the solitary guest sat, and placed his hand upon his shoulder:

"Up!" he called with penetrating voice, "up in the name of Manuelita!"

As if touched by an electric shock, the man jumped up, and, throwing onesingle glance at the sailor, he gave a yell and leaped right in themidst of the vagabonds, and with herculean power he knocked down all whowere near him, crying with rage:

"Away with you, bandits! Whoever touches a hair on this man's headdies!"

As soon as the men heard the voice, they remained standing as ifpetrified, and even the most courageous turned pale. 

"Jacopo!" went from mouth to mouth. "What the devil brought him here?Let us hasten to depart. See only how his eyes are rolling; he is oncemore in a passion!"

The other must have been aware of his ruling power over these miserablevagabonds, for he pulled the door open and peremptorily ordered them toleave the room, saying threateningly:

"March off, or I'll get you all on the galleys again, which you oughtnever to have left!"

"We are going; pardon us!" cringingly replied the men; and like beatendogs they all left quite hastily. 

The Provencal lingered a while at the door. 

"How about the money?" he inquired, in dog-like submission. 

"Throw it to the bandits outside the door, Jacopo, " said the sailor, despisingly. 

Jacopo took the money in both hands and scattered it in a large circleon the street. 

Howling, shrieking, and with a tremendous noise, the bandits fought forthe booty. Jacopo locked the door, closed the latch, and kneeling beforethe sailor, whispered: "Master, what is it you demand of me?"

CHAPTER XLIII

MANUELITA

Who was Jacopo?

About nineteen years before, in February, 1829, Edmond Dantes--aprisoner for life in the Castle d'If--owing to his energy, escaped fromhis jailers, sewed up in a sack which had contained the corpse of hisfriend, the Abbe Faria. He was dragged by the jailers to the churchyardof 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 gavethe deserted one a friendly reception, and washed him close to a ship, agenuine tartane, where in despair he called out for help. He waved thered sailor's cap which a sympathizing gust of wind had thrown down froma rock, and the men on board of the tartane saw it. "Courage!" theycalled to him. With a weak, despairing grasp he took hold of the ropewhich had been thrown toward him, and then became insensible. 

When he came to he lay on the deck, and sympathizing sailors bent overhim. They administered rum, they rubbed his benumbed body, and he whohad first seen the unfortunate man put his own woollen jacket aroundthe man's shivering shoulders. This sympathizing sailor was calledJacopo; he was a powerful young fellow, with laughing blue eyes. WhenEdmond Dantes had recourse to stratagem, and, in order to remain aloneat Monte-Cristo, leaped from the rock, it was Jacopo who picked him up, and only against his will left him again. 

"Who knows whether you will not one time become a captain? Has not yourcountryman Bonaparte become emperor?"

Hereupon Jacopo almost went into hysterics; how could he become captain?no, so high he never climbed even in his boldest dreams; he feltsatisfied if he only continued to have a place on the deck of a ship;then the ocean was his home, his family, his all!

Edmond Dantes has the name Jacopo fixed in his memory. He will, nodoubt, have an after opportunity to reward the brave fellow. 

Years had passed when the Count of Monte-Cristo began to recollect thebrave Corsican. He searched for him and said:

"Do you remember a sailor whose life you once saved, and who prophesiedthat you would become a captain?"

Jacopo blushed; no, he has not yet forgotten this prophecy. 

"I knew this sailor, " continued the count, "and received of him thecommission to cancel his debt to you. "

"His debt?" exclaimed Jacopo, not knowing the meaning thereof. 

"Yes, your dream points to a captaincy, and I have the order to realizethis dream. "

"You! oh, do not make fun of me--"

"What are you thinking of? Look here, Jacopo, do you see this yachtwhich is now riding on the waves?"

"I see her. She appears to me slender and beautiful--she is a pearl of avessel. "

"I am glad that the yacht is to your taste; she is my property, and Iappoint you as captain, if you have no objection!"

Jacopo became almost wild with joy. During the next few months theelegant yacht, called the Ice Bird, moved her wings actively, crossingevery sea, and the captain was delighted with her. 

When the count came to Paris to investigate the fate of the familiesVillefort and Danglars, Jacopo received his dismissal, or rather histemporary freedom. 

"Master, " he asked, sorrowfully, "why do you send me away? Have you tocomplain of anything concerning me?"

"No, Jacopo; but at present I do not need the yacht any further; Iintend for a time to remain in Paris. "

"Well, at any rate, I will always be ready to obey your least hint, "said the Corsican, with enthusiasm. "Command me, and I shall at oncehonor your call. "

"How who knows?" said Monte-Cristo, laughingly. 

"What do you wish to say by that assertion, master? Do you believeJacopo will be remiss in fulfilling his promise?"

"Who knows?" repeated the count, still laughing, and then, drawing outhis pocketbook, he said in an earnest tone: "Jacopo, you have a secret. "

"I?"

"Why avoid my question? Your blushing cheeks convict you of untruth, andthen you ought to know me sufficiently; you know that my looks canpenetrate the innermost depths of thy soul. "

Jacopo bent down his head, turned the cap in his hand confusedly, andbecame red like a red garden flower. 

"Am I to tell you that I am able to read you to the bottom of yourheart?"

"Master--"

"I read there a name--"

Jacopo trembled, and grasped a chair to support himself. 

"It is the name of a woman. "

"Master, master, I entreat you not to mention the name. I suffer enoughwithout that. "

The count's countenance grew gloomy. 

"Jacopo, " said he, peremptorily, "I am forbearing if anybody placesconfidence in me; irreconcilable if any one seeks to deceive me. I keepsilent if you wish it, but we are forever separated. Farewell, you willnever see me more!"

He turned to go, but the power which this singular man exercised overothers was so great that Jacopo broke out into loud lamentations. Hepreferred to suffer anything rather than consent to perpetualseparation. 

"Say, master, " he said, with a sigh, "am I able to leave you?"

Monte-Cristo smiled. 

"You are a child, " he then said. "You cannot bear to hear anybodyspeaking of your love, because you are forever separated from her. "

"Oh, master, then you know everything. "

"Listen to me, I am ready to tell you all that I know. There below, inthe Catalonian quarter of Marseilles, lives a fisherman's family. Braveand diligent, they were never ashamed of their calling. They have workedday and night with boat and net, and accumulated a nice amount ofproperty. The family consists of ten persons: father, mother, sevensons, and one daughter live in the modest but decent hut. The sons arestrong and courageous fellows, who are not afraid of anybody; thedaughter is charming with her dark curly hair, her glowing sloe-blackeyes, and her marble white skin. Jacopo, am I to tell you the name ofthe little one?"

"Manuelita"--it sounded gently like a breath from the lips of Jacopo. 

"You have liked this beautiful child since you first saw her, and oneday you took heart and you went to Manuelita's father--"

"Who turned me out like a beggar, " interrupted Jacopo, gloomily. 

"That he did not do, " continued the count, coolly. "He told you quietly, Manuelita will not become a poor man's wife. "

"And perhaps that was no insult?" continued Jacopo, vehemently. "Allpeople cannot be rich. "

"But Manuelita's father has also told you something else?" askedMonte-Cristo, quietly. 

"Oh, yes, " replied Jacopo, bitterly; "he called after me that if I cameback with twenty thousand francs, then Manuelita should be mine. I earnsuch wealth! He was making sport of me. "

And Jacopo stamped angrily and uttered a heavy curse. 

Monte-Cristo looked at him reflectively. Then he took a leaf from hispocket-book, which he held in his hand, and offering it to Jacopo, said:

"Here, take this. "

"What am I to do with it, master?" asked Jacopo, astonished. 

"Well, can't you read any more?"

"Oh, yes; I read an order for 20, 000 francs to which your name isaffixed. "

"And payable at--"

"Thomson & French, in Rome. "

"You perhaps doubt whether these gentlemen will honor my signature. "

"Oh, master, your signature is as good as ready cash!"

"Well, then, go to the first banker you can find and have the checkcashed. "

Jacopo looked at the count quite bewildered, and thus the conversationabout Manuelita was ended, and his master gave him simply an order. 

"Am I to deliver the cash to you, master?" he asked, not being certainyet. 

"No, not to me. "

"To whom, then, otherwise, master?"

"To nobody. "

"Yes, but, dear me, what is the money for?"

"You shall keep it. "

"I?"

"Yes, you yourself. "

"And what am I to do with it?"

"You have to look for Manuelita's father, show him the money, and remindhim of his pledge. "

Pale, not able to utter a word, Jacopo stared at the count;Monte-Cristo waited a moment, and then said, smilingly:

"Have you now understood me?"

"No, master--I do not comprehend--"

"Nay, one might almost believe that you have not a grain of sense. Theamount is your property--you have deserved it honestly. "

"I deserve it? Oh, you make sport of me! If I have done my duty, that ismy best recompense. "

"Yes, for your services as captain of the yacht. But there are alsoother services which cannot be paid for; submission, honesty, andcourage cannot be paid for in gold, and in spite of the 20, 000 francs Iremain still your debtor. "

"Oh, master, you make me feel ashamed!"

"Jacopo, " said the count, sorrowfully, "do not speak like that. Of whatvalue 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 beuseful from morning to night, and as the only reward for your labor yourequire Manuelita's love. Have you any further wishes, my brave man?"

"No, none; only Manuelita!"

"Then take her, and be happy!"

Jacopo stared yet at his master rather doubtfully. 

"What is it to be, Jacopo, yes or no?"

Instead of answering, Jacopo kissed the hand of his master. 

"All right, Jacopo, " said Monte-Cristo. "I only require one thing ofyou. "

"Oh, speak--speak only!"

"I know, in case I came in a few months to Marseilles, you will hesitateto accompany me. "

"I hesitate, master? How can you believe that? My life belongs to you!"

"No, Jacopo; from the moment you call Manuelita yours your life belongsto her. Do not take any oath, for you will never keep it. Did not evenPeter deny the Lord three times? and Peter had no loving wife. In six, in twelve months, the thought of leaving Manuelita will surely make youunhappy; I know man, and I know you. "

Jacopo looked toward the ground rather ashamed; he was aware that thecount had spoken the truth. 

"Nor do I demand that you should leave her. "

Jacopo breathed a great deal easier. 

"What am I to do?" he inquired hastily. 

"Swear to me that, at any day or any hour I should call on you inManuelita's name to assist me, you will follow my orders!"

Jacopo lifted his right hand on high. 

"Master, I swear it to you, " said he, solemnly. 

"I trust to your oath; go and be happy. "

Overcome with joy, Jacopo hastened to Marseilles, soon reached theCatalonian quarter, and greeted Manuelita with a bright smile. 

The father of the beautiful Catalonian was on the point of becomingvexed when he saw Jacopo, but soon became almost dumb when the Corsicanwaved a well-filled purse and reminded him of his promise. 

Scarcely a month elapsed before the marriage was celebrated, and happyJacopo led the beautiful Manuelita to the neat abode which he hadprepared for her. 

There have passed days and months full of undisturbed happiness. Jacopohas bought a barge and baptized her Manuelita; he has sailed on the blueocean and returned with a rich harvest of fish; prosperity reigns in thelittle cottage on the strand, and Manuelita is beautiful as the youngday. 

The count appeared one morning, when Jacopo was just ready for hisfishing excursion. 

"Will you accompany me?" he asked, laughingly. 

The Corsican flushed, and Monte-Cristo said in a consoling tone: "Quietyourself, I am only joking; what I want of you to-day will take only ashort time. "

That was at the time when the count ordered Jacopo to bring his farewellwishes to Valentine and Maximilian. 

When the Ice Bird with sails unfurled left Marseilles, Jacopo feltsomewhat dissatisfied with himself, and sometimes it appeared to him asif Manuelita had changed. Beautiful and lovely she still appeared, buther manner made some impression on Jacopo, and by degrees he found thatothers also thought his young, lovely wife had undergone a change. First, it was only hinted at, but afterward the talk spread and becamelouder that Manuelita deceived her husband; she loved another, Jacopo'sfriend. Jacopo did not at first mind this talk, but one evening he sawManuelita fly at Parlo and offer him her sweet lips to kiss, and itenraged him to think that the people were in the right. He mastered withsuperhuman exertion all the thoughts that surged within him, and nobodymight know that he was aware of the disgrace of his wife, nor that hecontemplated an awful revenge. Why Manuelita betrayed him none couldtell! He was a most faithful and indulgent husband; he would have gonefor the beautiful Catalonian into the fire, and she--the lips which sheoffered him were soiled from the adulterous kisses of Parlo--the armwhich she placed round his neck had also embraced Judas lovingly--shewas a monster in enticing form. From this time, when Jacopo realizedManuelita's faithlessness he resolved to destroy her and her lover, andthat the boat which bore the name of the faithless wife should becomethe instrument to carry out his revenge!

One morning Jacopo said to Manuelita:

"The weather is delightful; I think I shall take a fishing cruise. Willyou accompany me?"

Manuelita hesitated; she thought perhaps Parlo might visit her. 

Jacopo noticed her hesitation, and said with a smile that tore his heartinto pieces:

"I have also asked Parlo to accompany us, because he is such goodcompany!"

Manuelita's countenance began to beam, and Jacopo suffered the pains oftorment when he perceived it, but took heart and said coolly:

"I shall in the meantime go to the shore to see whether the nets are allin proper condition. "

He went, and when he returned after a while, and accidentally threw aglance at the window, he found Parlo in Manuelita's arms. 

Pale as death and with tottering knees the unfortunate remained almostpetrified on the spot; and when he revived a little and came ten minuteslater into the house he appeared gay, and nobody could guess whatanguish of soul he suffered. 

"Are you ready?" he inquired quietly. 

"Yes, " nodded Manuelita. 

"Then let us go; the nets are all ready. "

Like an automaton Jacopo walked along the shore between the guilty pair;he mechanically answered questions, and when Manuelita offered her lipsfor a kiss after being helped into the boat, he had sufficient powerover himself to touch with his lips the false mouth. 

The boat glided through the blue waves of the ocean; Manuelita's darkcurls played with the wind, and Parlo was intoxicated with joy as helooked at her. Jacopo sat at the rudder and looked inquiringly at asmall dark cloud which appeared on the horizon some distance off andquickly neared them. 

The Corsican allowed the boat to go with full sail before the wind, andsoon nothing but the sky and water could be seen. 

Parlo and Manuelita, engaged with each other, did not perceive thechange in the weather, and when they heard in the distance a hollow, rolling sound they quickly arose to their feet. 

Manuelita trembled, and lifting her beautiful eyes to Jacopo sheinquired anxiously:

"Jacopo, is there a storm coming on?"

"Pah, " replied the Corsican reassuringly, as he threw his net into thesea; "it is of no importance. "

Jacopo was an experienced seaman; when he said the storm did notsignify, you could depend on it that he was right. Manuelita saw thatJacopo was quite unconcerned, and looking at the roaring, rising wavesshe again grew calm and again watched Parlo. He also seemed careless;he laughed and joked, and, behind Jacopo's back, stole many a kiss fromhis beloved. 

A bright flash of lightning came down; the thunder rolled, and theblack, cloudy wall rose ever higher on the blue horizon. Jacopo, however, did not mind it; he hummed a Corsican fisher-song and dippedhis net into the sea. That he always drew it out empty did not troublehim; from time to time he threw unnoticed a glance at the others andgnashed his teeth. 

Suddenly a heavy gale caught the foresail and tore it to shreds; themainsail was also destroyed, then the foresail fell to the deck. 

With a loud cry Manuelita sank on her knees and Parlo cried outterrified:

"Jacopo, we are lost!"

"Save us, Jacopo, " sobbed the Catalonian; and then she made the sign ofthe cross and muttered a prayer, while the storm increased in fury. 

Jacopo remained motionless. He took an axe and lifted it high in hisright hand, while the boat tossed like a nutshell and the noise of thestorm deadened all other sounds. 

"The boat is too heavy, " muttered Jacopo to himself, and swinging hisaxe he cut off the mizzen-mast close to the deck. Neither Parlo norManuelita said a word, and, engaged only with each other, believed thatJacopo was trying to save them, and only as the mast heavily struck thewaves realized their peril. 

The storm now absolutely controlled the light boat and twisted her roundhere and there. Jacopo lifted his axe again and cut down also theforemast. 

"Parlo, " shrieked Manuelita, despairingly, "save us--we drown!"

Parlo pretended that he did not hear these words, for Jacopo's curiousfixed look had put him on his guard. Manuelita, overcome with fright, forgot everything, and, clasping her hands around Parlo's neck, shesobbed out:

"Save me--oh, save me, Parlo!"

Jacopo swung his axe afresh, but this time it remained deep in the keelof the ship, and now light dawned on Parlo. Jacopo meant to destroythem. 

"Hold on, Jacopo, " he called aloud despairingly, and tried to take holdof the axe. 

The Corsican said not a word, but he, with his axe uplifted, kept Parloat a distance, and then cut again into the keel, till a loud creakingwas audible. 

Jacopo had at last succeeded in his object--gurgling and roaring, theagitated waters rose through the leak in the ship, and Parlo shriekedlike a madman. 

"Jacopo--you carry us to destruction!"

Jacopo's pale features became at last animated; he threw himself onParlo, grasped his shoulders, and, forcing him on the floor of the boat, pressed his knee on his chest. 

"Manuelita, " he called, with a voice which sounded through the stormlike a trumpet, "you shall be happy with your lover, miserable woman!"

Manuelita heard the words--she saw the quick rising flood--she sawJacopo kneeling upon Parlo's chest, and she understood all--all!

Higher and higher still rose the water, and now Jacopo laughingly lefthis rival--he was drowning in the waves. 

Manuelita raised her folded hands in entreaty--then came a last shriek, a hoarse laugh, and the boat sank, never to be seen again. 

The next day the sea was serene and calm in the splendor of the risingsun, and a man engaged in fishing noticed a motionless body lying on thestrand. Alarmed he hastened to lift up the body and recognized Jacopo!

Singularly enough, life was not quite extinct; the fisher brought thehalf-dead man to his house, and under the careful treatment of kindneighbors Jacopo soon revived as far as his body was concerned, but hismind remained affected. 

A few days later the corpses of Parlo and Manuelita were driven on thestrand, and now what had caused Jacopo to become insane was no more ariddle--had he not in one day lost the wife and the friend?

Jacopo's madness was of a quiet kind; for hours he could sit on theshore and watch the playful movements of the waves; sometimes he bentover the blue waters as if he were in search of something, and then heshook his head sorrowfully. One day he sat again during a heavy gale onthe strand; he saw a boat in which two men and a woman were sittingfighting with the waves. In his eyes light began to dawn all at once. Heplunged into the water and soon had reached the boat. Breathless stoodthe people who saw it and noticed all his movements, and now they foundhim swimming toward the shore, holding a human figure in his arms, andloud hurrahs and rejoicing met him for his courage. 

He had succeeded in saving the woman; the two men found a watery grave. In expectation of something, he knelt down by the woman, and when sheopened her eyes Jacopo uttered sorrowfully:

"It is not her, " and then departed. 

From this day Jacopo's madness was broken; he certainly roamed about fordays 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 heventured courageously upon saving the lives of those in danger. 

Thus not a week passed in which Jacopo had not found opportunity to savepeople from shipwreck: the inhabitants on the strand surrounded him witha godlike veneration, and whenever a vessel was in danger there he wason the spot. Heaven seemingly favored him; hundreds he saved from awatery grave, and soon his word on the strand became quite an authority. 

In course of time Jacopo began clearly to remember the entire affair asit happened on that eventful morning, and in order to drown thoserecollections he became a drunkard. In this state he was found by theEnglish sailor, in whom, no doubt, the reader must have recognized theCount 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 hishelp. As Jacopo knelt before the count, Monte-Cristo put aside the long, entangled hair which hung down over the Corsican's face, and, in asorrowful tone and compassionately moved by the sight, said to him:

"Jacopo, you have suffered heavily!"

The Corsican sobbed bitterly, and the count continued: "How long it issince I saw your bright face on the strand; at that time you were happyin the possession of Manuelita, and to-day I find you broken, despairing, and--alone!"

Jacopo could only go on sobbing, and hot tears came down his pale, haggard cheeks. 

"You have killed Manuelita, " whispered the count softly. 

Jacopo trembled. 

"Who has told you, master?"

"Don't you know that I can read your soul?"

"Yes, " nodded Jacopo. "I have killed her!"

"And do you regret the deed?"

"This question I cannot exactly answer, " observed Jacopo timidly. "I wasfor a time insane, and often I wish I were so even now; the clouded mindwas bliss compared with the terrible recollections which now break myheart! Oh, what wouldn't I give to have courage enough to take my ownlife; but I lack that courage; I suffer terribly, I cry, I wring myhands, and yet I live. Oh, the cowardice! who will save me from myself?"

"I, " said Monte-Cristo, earnestly. 

"You, master? Yes, you are almighty, and if you like you are able topull out of my bleeding wounds the painful darts which are tearing myheart. Pity me, count, and I am free!"

Monte-Cristo's look rested pitifully upon the unfortunate, and his voicesounded soft and mild when saying:

"Jacopo, only to save you I came here. "

"I feel it, I know it; oh, how kind you are!"

"Jacopo, when man is carried away by his passions and has doneevil--what you have done was bad, because you did not possess the rightto judge Manuelita, and you feel it by your remorse--then there is onlyone remedy, to atone for the sin--"

"Oh, mention the remedy, master! It is singular, but since I have lookedinto your eyes and heard your voice, I have the feeling that the bloodyfog 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 theocean and saw nothing above me but heaven and sun. Master, tell me, whatam I to do?"

"So much good, that the evil may disappear before it. "

"Alas, if I could do that! I have killed, and I am lacking the power toraise the dead. "

"And if you could nevertheless atone for your crime?"

"Master, I hear your words, but their meaning is clouded for me; pleasespeak plain to me, that I may understand you. "

"Jacopo, life and death are related together, which, however, a secretand indissoluble union connect with each other. Not for nothing have Iput you to the test; when I visited this cursed place, when I sounded mygold pieces, it was only because I wanted to find out whether misery hadalso corrupted your soul. "

"Oh, " replied Jacopo, contemptuously, "it does not say much to haveremained an honest man. "

"You are too modest, Jacopo; I have found you again as I left you tenyears ago; now, listen, will you accompany me?"

Jacopo trembled all over. 

"Leave Marseilles?" muttered he, in half-suppressed words; "oh, master, if you only knew that it is my sole and only joy to wander on thestrand, and to contemplate that blue ocean which swallowed her up!"

"Jacopo, I have come here for the purpose of fetching you, as I am inwant of you. I have to undertake difficulties; my way leads into foreignlands, on ways where death and crime are on the watch, and I havecounted on your assistance. Shall I have been mistaken?"

Instead of an answer Jacopo made a bow, and taking the hands of hismaster, kissed them. 

"Thanks, master, " muttered he; "I am yours in body and soul!"

"Good, Jacopo, I know you!"

"When do we depart?"

"To-morrow morning. "

"And where am I to meet you?"

"On board of the Ice Bird. "

"I shall be there. "

"I depend on your word; remember my prophecy, that death is the fountainof life, and that your sin disappears when God gives you grace to savethe lives of others! Farewell for to-day, by daybreak we meet again. "

Monte-Cristo left the liquor store, the Spider and Jacopo looked afterhim with a glimpse of new awakening hope in their eyes. 

CHAPTER XLIV

THE HUMORS OF A LADY-MILLIONNAIRE

While Clary and her governess rode to Marseilles at a late hour, MadameCaraman was devoured with curiosity; but she was, nevertheless, sensibleenough not to ask any question of her stubborn ward. When, however, theyoung girl spurred the horses continually on the governess felt uneasy;she had, besides, often the sensibility of a hen who has to bring up ayoung duck, and therefore she ventured to make slight objections againstthe uncommon maddening speed which, owing to her heavy size, becameevery moment more troublesome to her. 

"Clary, at this hour to ride to Marseilles! What would Lord Ellis say toit? I have undertaken a sacred cause, and--"

"Do not trouble yourself, Mamma Caraman. I shall answer for all. "

"Also when we break our necks?"

"Even then. "

The governess was silent, not because she felt convinced, but owing tothe want of breath. By degrees she got used to her present situation, and one does not read Alexandre Dumas in vain. Could there be anythingmore romantic than this night trip? The moon lighted up trees andshrubs with a fine white light, and they thus appeared as spectres, whoin a maddening quick fear fly along. 

"It is a great pity that he of blessed memory cannot behold me thus, "muttered Madame Caraman to herself; "he would, no doubt, have rejoicedover me. "

Now the town was reached, and Clary adopted a more moderate pace, whileshe and her companion turned into Troailles Street. Before a palace-likehouse a halt was made, and through Madame Caraman's head passed suddenlya correct supposition. 

"Ah, we intend then to pay a visit to the firm of Mortimer & Co. , " saidshe, with surprise; "a strange hour, and the bank will probably not beopen yet. "

Clary did not mind the remark, and she ordered the groom to get downfrom his horse and to knock. John, being used to obey punctually theorders of his young mistress, knocked with both fists at the closedgates, and Clary nodded her consent to it. 

"Listen, Clary, " said Madame Caraman, suddenly; "there is dancing in thehouse. "

Indeed they could now plainly hear the sound of excellent music, and inthe well lighted windows of the first story one could perceive here andthere something like light shadows passing by. 

Ere Clary could answer, the porter appeared and opened the gates, askingthe pleasure of the cavalcade. 

"Tell your master, " said Clary, imperiously, "that I wish to speak tohim at once. "

"Oh, dear, that is impossible, " stuttered the servant, stupefied; "theoffice is closed, and will only be opened again to-morrow morning ateight o'clock. "

The porter was now ready to lock the gates again, but John had already, at a wink from his mistress, placed his horse between the gates, and, good or bad, they had to be left open. 

"Please ask your master to be kind enough to come down at once, " saidMademoiselle Ellis, peremptorily. 

"Excuse me, mademoiselle, do you belong to the ball guests?" asked theman, shyly. 

"Ah, is there a ball in the house?"

"Yes, mademoiselle; Mortimer & Co. Give their only daughter in marriageto-day; if, then, mademoiselle is invited?"

"No. "

"Then mademoiselle came upon business matters?"

"Yes, indeed. "

"Then I am really sorry that I cannot announce mademoiselle; my ordersare very strict. "

"You refuse to obey me?"

"I regret very much, but--"

"In this case I must myself try to procure a hearing. Back!"

Ere the frightened porter could hinder it, Clary had given the horse thespurs and they crossed the threshold. Madame Caraman followedcourageously, and then they stopped in the midst of the vestibule, ornamented with exotic plants, candelabra, and various hangings of therichest and rarest description. A number of lackeys felt perplexed whenthey perceived so unexpectedly the beautiful horses stepping on thecarpets placed in the fore-court; some dozens of hands were stretchedout in order to stay the horses, but they played a wrong game. 

Not in vain was an ancestor of Miss Clary victorious in a combat withthe Highlanders; her grandfather as well as her uncle had manfullysubdued Tippoo Sahib, and her father had carried the victory at the lastDerby. With her horsewhip she frightened the intruders, and Clary gaveher horse the spurs again; in a moment the young girl and her governessrode upstairs! In the hall where the ball was given the _elite_ of themost elegant society in Marseilles were gathered together; all thenotables 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 ofthe house of Mortimer & Co. Just now the sounds of a quadrillecommenced, and the various pairs began to arrange themselves for theoccasion, when the lackey in attendance was pushed aside and a horse'shead looked inquisitively into the ball-room. 

It was a horse, surely and truly a horse--there was no doubt about that!The animal that put its proud-holding head into the ball-room had asilver bit, and its fine, cunning eye rested quite astonished upon theelegant company; who also, almost petrified with astonishment, came to ageneral standstill. 

The lady of the house broke into shrieks, while Mortimer with his handsprevented further intrusion. 

And yet what he saw was after all not so terrible, for an exquisitelybeautiful young lady sat gracefully on the four-footed intruder, and apair of provocative eyes shone brightly under a riding hat ornamentedwith rich feathers. 

The wife of Lot, however, could not have been more torpid than thecompany in Palais Mortimer, especially when behind the first horse'shead a second one appeared, and Madame Caraman became visible. 

Mortimer thought he was dreaming. Was his ball-room then turned into ariding-school?

Miss Ellis did not give him much time to become horrified; she bowedpolitely before the banker, and said:

"Mr. Mortimer, if you please, I have to speak to you!"

Well, although the banker was an Englishman he was not a friend ofhorses, and while he with some anxiety looked at the splendid horse andits rider, Clary's animal forgot its manners so far that it commencedwithout the least ceremony to scrape upon the heavy carpet as if it werein Hyde Park or Rotten Row, and also Madame Caraman's horse neglectedthe rules of etiquette in that manner that the trainers of his youthdeserve punishment for having only partly fulfilled their duty. 

The dancing pairs stood, as far as it could be accomplished, quite safein the background, and the older ladies and gentlemen quietly returnedthanks to God, that it was Mr. Mortimer's house, and not theirs, inwhich this scene was played. 

"Mr. Mortimer, " Clary began anew, "please come this way. "

The banker so far overcame his timidity that he put his eyeglass closerto 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 isnot a banker for nothing, and one knows what wealth amounting to amillion pounds sterling really signifies!

Mr. Mortimer forgot that two horses were in his ball-room destroyinghis carpets; he forgot that hundreds of eyes were turned expectantlytoward him, and, waiting for the moment when he would show the boldintruders to the door. He made a low bow to Clary and inquired almostsubmissively:

"I am at your service, Miss Ellis. "

"I have to speak to you, Mr. Mortimer; the affair cannot be put off. "

"I am ready for you, " and pointing to the left, he continued: "Pray willyou kindly accompany me to my office?"

"With pleasure, but I should first like to leave the saddle. "

Ready to serve, the banker assisted the ladies to descend from theirhorses and walked in front of them to the office. The governess foundthe whole affair very amusing, and when Clary whispered to her to orderJohn to take the horses in the yard, she nodded quite pleased; it wasalmost more interesting than a romance. 

In the meantime Mr. Mortimer's partner had risen from the whist-table, and wishing to be of some assistance, he saw that the horses in thestable were properly cared for, and then waited patiently to be calledby his partner. 

This, however, did not immediately take place. Mr. Mortimer sat with hisbeautiful customer, for as such he considered Clary, whose bills hehonored, and when she attempted some excuses for her "peculiar"intrusion, he replied smilingly:

"If anybody is possessed of wealth such as Mademoiselle Clary can boastof, every eccentricity is excusable. "

"I am exceedingly obliged, " said Clary laughing. "I should neverthelessnot have chosen this course except through necessity. But in order toreturn to our business, I have to inform you of my demands. "

"No doubt: in the first instance, money! How much do you stand in needof?"

"Am I at liberty to draw upon you for the sum of two hundred and fiftythousand francs, Mr. Mortimer?"

"Pooh! a mere bagatelle; to-morrow morning it is at your disposal. "

"To-morrow morning? No, Mr. Mortimer, I am in want of it at once. "

"At once, mademoiselle? Impossible! The bank is closed. "

"Then order it to be opened. "

"But this is against the rules of our establishment!"

"You will have to deviate from this rule on my account, unless youprefer to decline altogether to do business with me. Mr. Bradwood will, no doubt, be ready to take your place!"

Bradwood, the rival, the _bete noire_ of the banking-house of Mortimer &Co. 

Mr. Mortimer's hair stood on end. No, that can and dare not be. Shouldhe erase from his books the name of Lord Ellis of Crainburton? It wouldbe a crime to think of such a thing! The transaction was certainlyopposed to all rule and law; it was eleven o'clock in the evening, andat 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 gavehim the note to deliver to Mr. Edwards. 

Mr. Edwards was the bridegroom, and if he said yes, then the bankerwould also say the same. 

"Your wish will be complied with, mademoiselle, " said he, obligingly. "Have you, perhaps, any further requests to make?"

"Not very many--only mere bagatelles. I depart to-morrow morning forAlgiers, " said Clary, with indifference, as if speaking about taking awalk somewhere. 

"For Algiers? H'm! the country is not bad, but the Frenchmen do not knowmuch of colonization. "

Madame Caraman opened her eyes very wide; she began to understand. 

"I depart to-morrow morning early!" Clary coolly repeated. 

Mortimer put his finger thoughtfully across his forehead. 

"At daybreak, mademoiselle? Are you sure of it that to-morrow morning avessel sails for that port? I am well acquainted with the departures ofthe various steamers--"

"And you know, therefore, that none of them sails for Algiers, "interrupted Clary, laughing. 

"Well, then?" asked the banker in an animated manner. 

"Well, then, just on that account I have been looking for you. "

"Looking for me?"

"Yes, indeed, you know all ship-brokers, and you will easily be able tohelp me out of my difficulties. "

"But I do not exactly understand. "

"Dear me, I am not speaking in the Coptic dialect!" exclaimed Clary, laughing. "I intend sailing to-morrow morning for Algiers. I have novessel, and for that reason you will have to get me one. "

"What? You desire a vessel--"

"Yes, yes. I am in want of a ship with captain, mate, sailors andboys--in short, with everything necessary for such an undertaking. To-morrow morning the ship, with steam up, must be ready for sailing, atthe wharf of Marseilles. And now, please consider the matter; I amwilling to allow you five minutes to do so. "

The banker thought he was dreaming. Was it possible for anybody todemand of him, of the firm of Mortimer & Co. , a complete, well-equippedsteamer as if he could shake it out of his sleeve?

"Three minutes have already passed, " reminded Clary, threatening withher finger. 

Mortimer was scratching his forehead almost despairingly. It was closeupon midnight, all offices closed. Where could he procure a vessel?

"The five minutes have passed, " said Clary, coolly, rising to her feet. 

Madame Caraman breathed more easily when she took hold of thedoor-handle; now the nonsensical plan was defeated. 

"Pray do not trouble your cashier any further, " remarked Clary, standingon the threshold. "I shall find somewhere else what I am in need of. "

"But, mademoiselle, " groaned Mortimer, before whose eyes Bradwood'sfigure appeared like a spectre, "you are demanding impossibilities ofme. "

"Mr. Mortimer, " said Clary, with indifference, "two hundred years agoone of my ancestors pointed to the city of Edinburgh and said to hiscaptain:

"'In two hours I desire to dine at the bishop's palace in Edinburgh!'

"The city was fortified, and from the walls the cannons spread theirdeadly fire; but the captain did not say it was impossible, but heinquired:

"'What does your lordship desire to have for dinner?'

"Two hours later my ancestor dined in the bishop's palace; the captain, of course, lost his life in the combat. Come, Madame Caraman. "

"With pleasure, " replied the governess, and both ladies left the office. 

"Mademoiselle, " sounded despairingly behind them. 

"Well?" asked Clary, stopping. 

"I do not promise for certain, " stammered Mortimer, "but I believe--"

"Vessel, captain, mate, and sailors. "

"Yes, dear me, yes, " groaned Mortimer, dropping exhausted into a chair. 

"And to-morrow at daybreak--"

"It will, no doubt, be possible to comply with your request. "

"Especially be careful in selecting a captain; and the broker will haveto sell me the ship. "

"This transaction also will be carried out. "

"Well, then, please arrange everything; my time is very limited. "

Madame Caraman gazed despairingly at the banker; he was really ready tolend his hand to such a stupid affair?

"No, I do not give my permission, " she at length resolutely declared. "Ihave obligations toward Lord Ellis, and I object to it. "

Clary took the governess's head, kissed her heartily, and whispered toher:

"Be persuaded, Mamma Caraman. I desire it, and therefore we depart. "

Submitting to Providence, she bent her head down; she was consoled. 

"Do not lose time, Mr. Mortimer, " she then said, respectfully, "it hasto be. "

Now a slender-built man, with rosy cheeks and red beard, entered theoffice; it was the bridegroom. 

"Here is the amount required, " said he, handing the banker a packet ofbank-notes. 

"Are the bank-notes legal tender in Algiers?" asked Clary. 

Father-in-law and son-in-law looked upon her pitifully; they were Bankof England notes, which even a Greenlander would expect to have cashedon sight. 

"Edwards, " said the banker, vivaciously, "is Wharton in the ball-room?"

"Yes, father. "

"Tell him to come here directly. "

"Who is Wharton?" asked Clary. 

"The only man I can trust to leave a ball at midnight to get a shipready for sailing. It will be a dear affair though. "

Clary laughed. 

"Mr. Mortimer, am I rich enough to pay this Wharton?"

"Oh, with your fortune you could buy a thousand Whartons. "

"And he will do all I ask of him?"

"Yes. "

"Good! Wharton is my man. One thing more, Mr. Mortimer. You have theconfidence of my family. I will give you a power of attorney to do withmy fortune what you wish in case--"

"In case?"

"I do not return from Algeria. "

"Oh, mademoiselle!" exclaimed Mortimer, with emotion. "Are you going torun such dangers?"

"I do not say that, but business is business, and I always like to havethings in order. "

"Here is Mr. Wharton, " said the son-in-law. 

The person who entered was a man of herculean stature. His thick headwas covered with bushy red hair. 

Clary looked curiously at the giant. 

"Are you an Englishman, Mr. Wharton?" she asked. 

"No, an American from Baltimore, miss, and your humble servant. "

"Mademoiselle, " interrupted Mortimer, "will you please explain to Mr. Wharton the nature of the business?"

"Willingly. Will you take a seat, please?"

"Thank you, " replied the Yankee, "I prefer to stand. "

"Mr. Wharton, you have a ship at anchor at Marseilles?"

"A ship, no, a pearl--the Crocodile--which is famous all over the worldfor its stanchness and rapidity. "

"You own it?"

"Yes. "

"How much did it cost you, Mr. Wharton?"

"How much did it cost me? That is a peculiar question, " muttered theAmerican. 

"Captain, " said Clary, rising, "I am rich, very rich. I am going to makeyou a proposition, and hope you will accept it. What price do you askfor the Crocodile?"

"But the Crocodile is not for sale. I would rather die than give up myship. "

The captain paced up and down the room with giant strides and struck hisforehead with his fist. The proposition, together with the liquors hehad drunk, excited him. 

"Let us say 100, 000 francs, " said Clary. 

The captain continued to strike his forehead. 

"One hundred and twenty thousand francs. "

The strokes became weaker. 

"A good business, " said Mortimer. 

"And you shall not be separated from your beloved Crocodile, " saidClary, laughingly; "for as soon as I become the owner of the vessel, Ishall make you its captain. "

"I'll accept the offer. "

"Good; Mr. Mortimer will pay you the money. "

"Willingly, " said the banker, "as soon as everything is arranged. "

"That shall be done at once, " exclaimed the giant, gleefully; "and, miss, give me your hand to bind the bargain. "

The young girl became frightened; if the giant were to grasp her slenderfingers he might crush them, and yet she knew that the shake of the handwas the usual mode sailors chose to bind a bargain. Hesitatingly sheheld forth her hand, but Wharton, who guessed her anxiety, laid his fistin hers in as gentle a manner as possible. The girl laughed and said:

"Captain, have steam up at once!"

"Yes, miss; but the ball?"

"The ball is a secondary matter. You are my captain, and, naturally--"

"You are right. I didn't care for the ball, anyhow. It was only the finebrandy I thought of. "

"I will tell Mr. Mortimer to let you have a few bottles. Captain, whendoes the sun rise to-morrow?"

"At 6. 18 A. M. "

"Good; at 6. 19 you can depart. "

"You will be satisfied with me. You have got a good captain, a boatswainand eight sailors. I am the smallest of the lot. Where are we going to, anyway?"

"To Algiers, captain. There is one thing more I wish to say. "

"Speak, commodore. "

"Have you noticed a yacht in the harbor? the flag is a gold mountain ona red field. "

"Yes, the little peanut-shell, " he said, disdainfully, "which is calledthe Ice Bird. "

"Yes, the Ice Bird. This peanut-shell, as you call it, starts to-morrowmorning for Algeria. Whether it intends to stop at Bona or Algiers I donot know. You would do well to find out. "

"I will do so, " said Wharton. 

"Then good-by, and remember to-morrow. "

When the ladies rode home the governess sighed. 

"Oh, miss, what will Lord Ellis say?"

"That my brother has now a chance to come into the inheritance, " laughedMiss Clary. 

CHAPTER XLV

MALDAR

Haydee and Mercedes were seated in a magnificently furnished boudoir, engaged in a lively conversation. Spero's dark head lay in his mother'slap. They were both talking of their beloved ones. Mercedes said, thatif Albert died her life would be at an end. Haydee only thought ofSpero. 

Spero, too, thought about the seriousness of his position, and was inthis, as in other things, far in advance of his age. He felt deepdespair at the idea of a separation from his mother, but the halo whichsurrounded his father gave the boy courage. 

Six o'clock had now struck. Haydee's arm clung tighter to Spero, and atear fell upon the youth's dark locks. 

Monte-Cristo softly opened the door and entered. His face looked paleand careworn. Spero ran to meet his father. The count took him in hisarms and softly asked:

"Are you ready, my son?"

"Yes, father, " replied Spero, simply; "where you go, I follow. "

Haydee hurriedly dried her tears as Monte-Cristo drew nearer. She clungto his bosom, and whispered:

"Am I to lose you both? If I only knew when you were going to return. "

The count turned to Mercedes. 

"Mercedes, " he said to Albert's mother, "you see I do not shrink fromany sacrifice when it is a question of duty. Love my Haydee and consoleher. She needs it. "

"I swear it, " replied Mercedes, solemnly; and, clasping Haydee in herarms, she added: "There is still time, Haydee; tell me, 'My husband andmy child should stay here, ' and I shall acquiesce in it. "

"You hear her words, Haydee, " said Monte-Cristo, casting an anxious lookat Ali Tebelen's daughter. "What is your answer?"

Haydee's beautiful face was illuminated with a halo as she took Spero'sarm and led him to his father. 

"Be worthy of him, " she whispered, with emotion. 

Mercedes sank sobbing at the young wife's feet, and exclaimed:

"Now I shall get my son back again; I feel it. "

The count finished all his preparations and chose the best weapons. Hewent with Spero to the dock the next morning, and was met by Jacopo, wholooked like a different person. 

"Have you inspected everything?" asked Monte-Cristo of the Corsican. "And are you satisfied?"

"Yes, master. "

"How many men have you?"

"Ten, sir; they are all trustworthy and have travelled in Africa before. I can answer for them. "

"Good. Ah! there you are, Coucou, " said the count, turning to theZouave. "I am glad that you are punctual. "

The count inspected the yacht and expressed his delight to Jacopo. 

The Crocodile was also lying, ready to sail, in the harbor. Wharton, confident of overtaking the Ice Bird, paced up and down the deck, rubbing his hands and from time to time casting contemptuous glances atthe yacht. 

From all the towers of Marseilles the seventh morning hour was rung. Thecount gave the signal for the departure, and the Ice Bird glidedgracefully through the waters. 

Monte-Cristo stood on deck looking back at France, where a part of hisheart was left behind. 

He had been talking with Spero for over an hour about their futureplans, when a sudden commotion was heard, and the count, who was astrict disciplinarian, looked angrily about. Before he had time toinquire about the cause of the noise, a heavy mass came rolling down thecabin stairs. The count opened the door and saw the Zouave and anotherstrange looking person, lying like a ball of cord on the floor. Theyboth rose, but the Zouave would not let go of the other's throat at anyprice. The stranger was dressed in rags, and his thin, haggard face andglaring eyes made a disagreeable impression. 

"What is the meaning of this, Coucou?" asked the count, angrily. 

"Captain, " the Zouave breathlessly replied, "I know I did wrong, but Icould not help it. Just look at the face of this fellow. "

Monte-Cristo looked searchingly at the man. 

"Where did you pick him up?" he asked of the Zouave. 

"In the engine room, close to the boiler. His brain must be half roastedalready. "

A cloud passed over the count's face. 

"Who are you?" he said, turning to the stranger. 

The man remained motionless. It was plain he did not understand thequestion. 

The count now saw that the man was an Arabian, and repeated the questionin that tongue. 

"I am a poor man, " the stranger submissively replied. 

"How did you get to the ship?"

The Arabian was silent. 

Monte-Cristo looked at the man again, and soon comprehended that the manwas a hypocrite and an impostor. 

Either the man was poor and had no money to go back to his home or elsehe was a spy. 

"You were in France?" the count suddenly said to the Arabian; "how didyou get there?"

"In one of the ships of your nation. "

"How long ago is that?"

"Woe to him who counts the days and hours. "

"Why did you not come to me? Were you afraid I would refuse to take youon board?"

"Was I to beg?" asked the Arabian, disdainfully. 

"What would you do if I were to put you adrift in a bark?"

"Allah is great!"

Coucou understood enough of Arabian to comprehend the pride which lay inthe stranger's words. He would have given anything to have been able tocarry out the count's threats; he advanced a step, but Monte-Cristo sawhis intention and motioned him back. 

"Man, " he said to the Arab, "you did wrong to put yourself in my power. Nevertheless, I shall be hospitable to you. Go!"

Turning to Coucou, he said:

"This man is my guest, and as such he must be sacred to you. "

The Arab bowed, put his hand to his forehead, and turned toward thestairs. 

"One question more, " said the count; "what is your name?"

"I am called Maldar. "

"You said you were poor, and yet your name signifies riches. "

"He whom Allah protects is rich, " replied the Arab, in veiled tones. 

CHAPTER XLVI

MISS CLARY'S SECRET

For any one else but Miss Clary Ellis, it would be no small matter tomake such a journey; but she knew no fear, and in spite of the frailexpression of her face, there was no hindrance she could not overcomewhen she wished to carry out a project. Her governess murmured when sheordered her to get everything ready. According to her it was madness togo to a "monkey-land, " as she termed Africa. But Miss Clary paid noattention to her, but went right on packing her trunks, and at fouro'clock she was all ready. 

She now called for John. This paragon of a servant would rather have cutoff his tongue and hands than ask a question. 

"John, " said Clary, "have the horses harnessed. "

"Yes, my lady. "

"See that these trunks are carried down to the carriage. "

"Yes, my lady. "

"We shall leave Marseilles. "

"Yes, my lady. "

"We go to Algeria; if you have any preparations to make, do so. "

"Yes, my lady. "

Had John been told that they were to start on a voyage to the moon, hewould have answered in his stereotyped way: "Yes, my lady. "

Five minutes later the carriage was at the door. 

"It is serious, then, " sighed the governess. "We are going to Algeria, then. Do you know, Clary, I have been weak to give in so?"

Clary did not reply, and Madame Caraman, encouraged by her silence, continued:

"Suppose an accident should happen to you, I would not survive the blow, for I love you. Wait another day, and if you still persist in yourdetermination, I am satisfied. "

When the governess had ended, Clary offered her her hand, and mockinglysaid:

"If you do not survive the shock of my death, you will not have toanswer for it. "

"No, no; prove to me that I am wrong. "

"God forbid! You are right; but nevertheless--"

"Stick to your plan, then; but suppose I do not accompany you?"

"It would cause me great grief, but could not alter my resolution. I amyoung, Madame Caraman, very rich, and wish to enjoy life for once--noone loves me--"

"Ah, Clary, you have a heart of gold, " sobbed Madame Caraman. 

"Accompany me to Algeria, Madame Caraman; I need your consolation andcomforting care. I go there to perform a good action. "

Madame Caraman looked keenly at Clary. The latter blushed, andcontinued:

"Mercedes deplores the loss of her son, and I desire to restore him toher if it is possible. Think what joy will be mine if Albert flies tothe arms of his mother and I can proudly say: 'This is my work. '"

The governess pondered deeply, and Clary, who was deceived by hersilence, impetuously exclaimed:

"Mamma Caraman, answer me. Have I not expressed myself clearly? I havenever been of service to any one. Yet, while there are people who offerup their lives and their energies to help others, is it a sin for me todesire to do likewise?"

"You mean, by that, the Count of Monte-Cristo?" replied Madame Caraman, thoughtfully. 

Clary blushed. 

"Yes, " she said, softly. "The count is my model. "

"And you wish to follow this 'model' to Africa?"

"There is a good deed to be done there, and I, who have nothing to lose, shall follow him. "

Madame Caraman looked smilingly at her. 

"I see, " she said, simply, "there is nothing to be done but to let youhave your way. "

Clary had expected more resistance. She burst into tears, and threw herarms around Madame Caraman's neck, and the governess tenderly kissed theyoung girl. 

John now opened the door, and told them the carriage was ready. 

"Forward!" exclaimed Madame Caraman, cheerfully, "and let us pray to Godthat we return again in good health. "

On the way to the harbor, Clary wept silently. Madame Caraman wiselykept her thoughts to herself. 

"I was once young myself, " she muttered to herself, "and I know how itlooks in an eighteen-year-old girl's heart. Yes, if I were twenty yearsyounger, I don't know but that I would fall in love with this Count ofMonte-Cristo myself. "

Had Madame Caraman discovered Clary's secret?

CHAPTER XLVII

AN AMERICAN WAGER

Jack Wharton was not one of those men who mean something else than whatthey say. His whole vocabulary was either "Yes" or "No, " just as thecircumstances were. When Clary arrived at the harbor at seven o'clock, she found a troop of giants awaiting her, who stood in line likePrussian grenadiers. Wharton moved his hat, and said:

"You see, my lady, we are punctual. "

"I did not expect anything else, " Clary simply replied, "and please seethat my luggage is carefully brought on board--and nothing broken, " sheadded, as she cast a glance at the broad forms of the sailors. 

Wharton promised to carry out her orders faithfully. 

"Have you never had any adventures, captain?" she asked. "I should liketo know something about your wife. "

"Mrs. Wharton is a pearl--she was a widow when I married her--"

"Ah!"

"Yes, " continued Wharton, indifferently; "I ate up her first husband; hewas a splendid fellow. "

Saying which he opened the carriage door and assisted the ladies onboard the boat. Clary, as she stood on deck, noticed a gold-colored flagflying from a staff. 

"What does the color of that flag mean?" she asked. 

"Ah, my lady, as our commodore has gold blond hair, I permitted myselfto hoist up flags of the same color. "

"Well, I must say, " said Madame Caraman, "that beats Sir WalterRaleigh's gallantry; you know he placed his gold-embroidered mantle inthe mud for Queen Elizabeth to walk upon. "

At this moment a tall, lean figure as graceful as a mast loomed up ondeck. 

"Mrs. Wharton, " said the captain, proudly. 

Clary and her governess shuddered as they looked at Mrs. Wharton. 

The copper-colored face of the woman looked like the broken hilt of aknife; her coal-black hair gleaming with oil was tied in a knot at theback of her head; the large mouth did not hide the still larger yellowteeth and the flat nose was bored with holes. Her ears were decoratedwith three gold rings apiece. Her dress consisted of a dark red skirt, fastened at the waist by a gold cord. Her decollete waist allowed thebrown skin to be perceived, and her flat feet were inclosed inmoccasins. Yet, in spite of Minnie Wharton's repulsive appearance, herhusband loved her. 

As soon as Mrs. Wharton saw the two ladies she invited them, in a voicewhich sounded like the croak of a raven, to her cabin. They were bothastonished when they entered it to find it a beautifully furnishedboudoir, whose silk hangings and bric-a-brac made it look more like aparlor of the Faubourg St. Germain than a ship's cabin. 

"The ladies will excuse me, " said Minnie, "but the time was short and Icould do no better. "

"You do not mean, " exclaimed Clary, surprised, "that you did everythingduring the night?"

"The captain did not get back until midnight, and I hurriedly purchasedthe things in the stores of Marseilles. "

Clary thought it was a tale out of the "Arabian Nights. "

Wharton had thought it a question of honor to show the young lady thatshe had not paid too dearly for the Crocodile, and had he been able totake 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 inthe morning and bought all the things, paying dearly for them. The roomof Madame Caraman was also a model of neatness. Next to the bed stood asmall table, upon which was a silver service with a bottle of brandy onit. Madame Caraman was delighted, and when her sense of smell detectedthe fine quality of the brandy, she was almost moved to tears. 

A head appeared in the doorway, and the captain said:

"My lady, the Ice Bird left ten minutes ago, and five minutes later theCrocodile lifted anchor. "

"Good, captain. You are sure of being able to over-take the Ice Bird?"

"Leave that to me, my lady. "

The captain now thought that the time for dining had come, and invitedthe ladies into a charming little room. 

"Captain, you are a magician, " exclaimed the young girl, laughing. "Sucha beautiful dining-room, and flowers too, " she added, as she perceived ahuge bank of flowers. 

"Oh, what lovely flowers, " she exclaimed delightedly. 

"Mrs. Wharton is the magician, my lady, " replied the captain; "and nowplease be seated. "

"Directly, " replied Clary laughing; "but first permit me to beg yourwife and yourself to join us. "

Two more covers were placed on the table. 

The breakfast was a substantial English meal, and consisted of tea, coffee, eggs and ham. They were all tasty dishes. The conversation wasvery lively until Mrs. Wharton arose and begged to be excused as she hadother duties to perform. 

"Ah, my Minnie is a pearl, " murmured Wharton, looking tenderly back ather. 

"You seem to be much attached to each other, " said Clary, cordially. 

"Oh, my lady, how could it be otherwise? We have not been separated fromeach other since twenty years; we have common remembrances which we cannever forget. "

"If I am not mistaken, you said before that Mrs. Wharton was a widow?"

"Yes, the widow of a Sioux. "

"And did she belong to the same tribe?"

"Yes, my lady, but she is long since a Christian. "

"And who was her husband?"

"A Sioux, poor Tu-Sam-Ba. "

"And how did he die, you say?"

"I ate him up, my lady. "

"Ah, really?"

"Yes, " said Wharton, sorrowfully; "his wife and I ate him up, andthrough this circumstance Minnie became a widow. "

Natural as it seemed to the captain, Madame Caraman gazed in openhorror, and as soon as she could recover the use of her tongue, sheasked for explanations. 

The captain was not loth to tell his story, and just as he was settlinghimself comfortably in a chair, Clary exclaimed:

"Before you begin, captain, take a look at the yacht. "

"I shall, " said Wharton, "but you can rest easy and trust in theCrocodile. "

The captain disappeared, and Madame Caraman, turning to Clary, said:

"We have come among strange people. "

"We had no other choice, and we might have fared worse. "

"Well, I'm much obliged for the consolation--cannibals!"

Clary was silent. What could she have answered?

In about ten minutes the captain returned out of breath. 

"Think of it, " he said; "these stupid firemen have not put on enoughsteam, and when I came on deck--"

"The Ice Bird was far away, " interrupted Clary. 

"I cannot deny it, but it will be all right. "

"And your promise?"

"Ah, my lady, I would like to make you a wager. "

"A wager?"

"Yes, that when we arrive at Bona, the Ice Bird will not be visible. "

"Good. "

"And now let me continue with the story of my marriage--"

"Oh, yes; I should like to know more about your wedding supper, " saidMadame Caraman. 

The captain lighted a cigar and began:

"In the first place, ladies, you must know that I have not always beenrich. I have not got a million yet, but I am in comfortablecircumstances, so to speak. Twenty-five years ago I had not a dollar inthe world. I did everything, but could not succeed in anything. InNovember, 1825, I was absolutely penniless, and one of my comrades, DickMerton, who was as badly off as myself, made a proposition to me to goto California. At that time California was still hardly explored. 

"'I will go along, ' I said, in answer to Dick's proposition. 

"'You know the peril, Jack, ' he replied. 'You might be in danger ofbeing captured by the Indians and eaten up. '

"At any other time, and under different circumstances, I might havehesitated, but my position was a desperate one, and I accepted. The nextday, armed to the teeth, we started. We were eight when we started. Whenwe reached San Francisco only five of us were left. One was killed bythe bite of a snake, and the rest fell down the precipices of the RockyMountains. At that time none of the comforts and luxuries to be foundthere to-day existed. We worked with pick and axe, and stilled ourhunger with the wild animals we killed. Two weeks later trouble arose inthe 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 againpersisted in upholding the spot selected. The upshot of the matter was, that we parted. I and two others remained, the rest departing in awesterly direction. 

"We built a block-house. It was situated under the shadow of a giganticcedar-tree and protected us from the wind and rain. All went alongswimmingly until one day I heard a yell of joy from Dick. I ran towardhim, and to my surprise I saw a vein of gold, which, at a superficialcalculation, 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, wewent to bed. As usual, we were fully dressed with our weapons in ourhands ready for any emergency. How long I slept I do not know, but I wassuddenly awakened by a loud yell, which still rings in my ears. Startingup, I looked around and beheld Osborne staring with wide-open mouth atsomething which lay in a corner. 

"'What is the matter?' I asked. 

"Osborne did not reply, but pointed to a corner near the door. I lookedin the direction indicated, and by the dim light of the lamp saw to myhorror--a rattlesnake. I looked around for Dick; he was leaning againstthe wall, his face ghastly pale. Before I was aware of it Dick hadkicked in the strong door. Osborne must have had the same idea for hetoo rushed for the door. They both reached the threshold at the sametime. 

"The door was too narrow to allow them both to pass; Dick seizedOsborne by the throat; a struggle ensued, and the next minute Osbornesank to the ground with Dick's bowie-knife plunged up to the hilt in hisbreast. The snake, aroused by the noise, sprang up and struck Dick adeadly blow. 

"In a moment he was in convulsions. "

Wharton paused. The perspiration stood on his forehead and the musclesof his lips twitched. Clary buried her face in her hands, and MadameCaraman prevented herself from fainting by taking a glass of brandy. 

"I beg your pardon, ladies, " the captain proceeded, "but the memory ofthat awful time overcame me. I am no coward, but the terrible sightunmanned me. The rattlesnake looked at me with its hideous eyes. Thefear of death nerved me, and seizing my gun I discharged it full at themonster and then lost consciousness. When I recovered next morning andsaw the dead bodies of Dick and Osborne I broke into tears. "

"Captain, " interrupted Clary, "your tale is so interesting that one isapt to forget, but--"

"But what?" asked Wharton expectantly. 

"I am anxious to know how many knots the Crocodile is making. "

"Ah! I was not thinking of that. I am sure of my ship. "

"So much the better; let us go on deck. "

"And my story?"

"Can be continued later on; I am to know yet how the Indian's widowbecame your wife. "

Wharton preceded the ladies to the deck. He knew his ship and had nofears. The weather was magnificent and the vessel's sails were swelledby the breeze. Clary looked in every direction to catch a glimpse of theIce Bird, but could not see it. 

"Captain, where is the Ice Bird?" she said, turning to Wharton. 

"The Ice Bird? It's far behind. How could it compare in speed with theCrocodile?"

"Are you sure of it?"

"Yes, my lady. "

"Please ask one of the sailors!"

Wharton did so, and was astonished when he was told that the"peanut-shell, " as he called the Ice Bird, made twenty-three knots anhour, whereas the Crocodile made only twelve. The long face he made atthis announcement caused Clary to burst into a loud laugh. 

"You see it is folly to attempt to overtake the Count of Monte-Cristo, "said Madame Caraman to Clary; "if you follow my advice, return toMarseilles, where we can wait for news of the Ice Bird and--"

"Go back?" interrupted Clary. "Never!"

"But Monte-Cristo will arrive before us, and two hours after his arrivalat Bona he will be on his way to the desert, and you do not intend tofollow him there among the lions, tigers and jackals, do you?"

"Mamma Caraman, if you are afraid, you can go back to France, " saidClary, gently. 

Captain Wharton now came back. 

"Well, " said Clary to him, "what's to be done?"

"We will overtake the Ice Bird, and all of us will be at your serviceand not leave you until you discharge us yourself. Will that do?"

"Captain, " said Clary, "I am afraid you are promising too much again. "

"Oh, no; this time I am confident of success. "

"But can you answer for your men?"

Wharton blew a whistle. All the crew appeared. 

"Men, " he said, turning to the sailors, "are you going to stand by meand follow me wherever the ship goes?"

"Yes!" they cried in chorus. 

"Are you satisfied, my lady?" asked the captain, triumphantly. 

"Yes. "

"Where are we to go?" asked the captain. 

"To the interior of Africa, in fact in the neighborhood of the Sahara. "

"Good, commodore, " replied the captain. 

"The captain, " she said, turning to the men, "shall pay you whatever youdemand. All I ask of you is devotion. "

"We swear it!" shouted the sailors, enthusiastically swinging theircaps. 

Mrs. Wharton approached the young lady and said:

"Have you forgiven the captain, miss?"

"Long since, Mrs. Wharton, " replied Clary, grasping her hand. 

Clary and Madame Caraman withdrew to their boudoir. 

"Don't you think it rather dangerous to be in the society of thesepeople?" asked Madame Caraman. 

"Have no fear, Mamma Caraman; I answer for everything. "

"One question more, dear child. What was the cause of your apparentindifference to-day, when you heard that the Ice Bird had distanced theCrocodile?"

Clary blushed deeply, and throwing her arms about Madame Caraman'sneck, whispered:

"I confess it did not surprise me. I did not wish to wound Monte-Cristoby overtaking him. "

"Monte-Cristo, " murmured Madame Caraman; "ah, my darling, take care. "

CHAPTER XLVIII

THE WEDDING BREAKFAST

The Crocodile sped swiftly along that day. Clary, who had become tired, went to sleep, while the governess sat in a chair near the bed anddreamed. 

The night passed, and the next morning Clary asked the captain whetherthey were in sight of land. 

"Yes, " replied the captain. 

"And how long will it be before we enter the harbor?"

"About two hours. "

"Good. Let me make you a proposition. We can dine now, and you can tellus the conclusion of your story. "

An hour later dinner was concluded, and the captain continued hisnarrative. 

"At the moment I put foot on the threshold of the cabin I heard apeculiar noise, and at the same moment an arrow flew past my head andlodged itself in the door. Where had the arrow come from? What to do Iknew not. Suddenly an inspiration came to me. The cabin was prettysolidly built, and the roof was constructed of thick canewood. Aroundthe four sides were thick planks, which offered me shelter in case ofan attack. That my enemies were Indians I felt sure. I locked the door, barricaded it from the inside, and felt sorry that the rattlesnake wasdead, 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. Ishuddered when I saw my enemies. They were Indians of the worst kind. With the Sioux and Chippewas we had kept up friendly relations, butthese were Arikaras, our bitterest foes. This tribe were deadly enemiesof the whites, and the refined cruelty with which they tortured theirprisoners made them feared by all. They were all armed with muskets, andnumbered 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 tobe prisoners, and when I thought of the custom of the Arikaras to roasttheir prisoners alive, a thrill of horror ran through my veins. Theattitude of the 'Prairie Flower' was so noble that she immediately wonmy heart. 'Either you or no one, ' I thought, and firmly resolved toattempt the rescue of my angel. "

The "angel" tried in vain to allay her husband's excitement. MadameCaraman could hardly restrain her laughter whenever she looked at theangel. Clary, on the other hand, preserved her gravity, and calmly said:

"I appreciate your feelings, captain; continue. "

Wharton bowed profoundly and proceeded. 

"The Arikaras surrounded the cabin, while I lay motionless, with my handon the trigger of my gun. The savages now began to break in the doorand soon effected an entrance. Immediately I heard a loud noise. Theyhad discovered the two dead bodies and the rattlesnake. They thought thetwo whites had killed the rattlesnake, which is regarded as a sacredanimal by them, and that Manitou, their god, had struck them dead. Aplace which Manitou visits is sacred to them, and I thought that theywould leave the hut. An ugly Indian, who seemed to be the chief, commanded silence and delivered a long speech to his subjects. At itsconclusion the Indians moved about and began to gather brushwood. Theypiled it in heaps on the floor of the cabin and the chief set fire toit. Presently the smell of burning flesh reached me. They were burningDick and Osborne's bodies. At the same moment a bright flame licked theroof, my gun exploded in consequence of the heat, and, half dead withfright, 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 rushedout bearing me along. I--"

"Captain, " interrupted Clary, "don't you think we have reached Bonayet?"

"No, " replied Wharton, vivaciously, "not before the next two hours. "

Clary laughed loudly, and the captain saw that he had committed ablunder. 

"I fainted, " continued the captain, "and when I came to my senses it waspitch dark and I lay on the ground, bound hand and foot. By theflickering light of a camp-fire I saw the Arikaras sitting around andcalmly smoking their pipes. Tu-Sam-Ba was tied to a post, while thePrairie Flower crouched at his feet. I determined to speak to theIndians, and gathering courage, I exclaimed in the English language:

"'Comrades, do you intend to let me starve? Have I done you any wrong?'

"'You are an enemy of our race. You killed the sacred serpent. '

"'Should I have waited then until it had killed me?'

"'You have killed, ' exclaimed one redskin, 'and you will be killed inyour turn. '

"The chief now claimed my scalp. It was awarded to him. While theredskins were carrying on a war-dance, I again lost consciousness. I didnot awake until I felt a hand pressed lightly on my forehead. It was the'Prairie Flower. '

"'Tu-Sam-Ba is dead, ' she softly whispered; 'he was roasted. Arikarassurprised--escaped!'

"She raised me from the ground, and, carrying me in her arms as if I hadbeen a child, she brought me to a glade in the forest. 

"'I am hungry, ' I said, pointing to my mouth. 

"The woman looked at me for a moment in despair, and shrugged hershoulders to indicate to me that there was no hotel in theneighborhood. "

At this point of the story Mrs. Wharton disappeared, and Madame Caramantook advantage of her absence to ask a question. 

"Has Minnie changed much since that time?"

"Oh, yes, " replied the captain, his face lighting up with pleasure, "shehas grown much handsomer. "

This was too much for Madame Caraman's composure, and, coughing loudly, she pressed a handkerchief to her lips and vanished through the door. 

The captain looked wonderingly after her, and, turning to Clary, said:

"My lady, I had much rather be alone with you! Not every one is able toappreciate the sacrifice Mrs. Wharton made for me. "

"Please continue your story. "

"Suddenly, " said Wharton, taking up the thread of his story, "the squawvanished, but returned soon after with a package carefully enveloped inleaves. She removed the leaves, and, with a light sob, handed me severalpieces of roasted meat. 

"I took them eagerly and ate ravenously of the food, which was verytasty. Seeing her melancholy looks, I asked her to partake of some. Sheshook her head. 

"'I am not hungry, ' she softly murmured. 

"'Then I shall not eat any more, ' I declared. 

"Seeing me determined, she hesitated no longer, and joined me in themeal. When we had finished, I asked her where she had procured the meat, and, with bowed head, she replied:

"'Tu-Sam-Ba roasted--Arikaras disturbed--did not eat--Tu-Sam-Ba, Sioux--my husband. '

"Good God! I had eaten her husband, and the Prairie Flower had nothesitated to serve him up roasted to me! My lady, is there anything inhistory equal to this!"

"No, I know of none, " replied Clary, hurriedly. 

"Ah, I knew it; I--"

"Captain, " said a sailor, opening the door, "we are nearing the harborof Bona. "

Clary rose hastily; she felt as if a terrible burden had been lifted offher shoulders. 

"Do you not approve of my marriage?" asked Wharton, anxiously; "she isa Sioux, but has become a Christian?"

"Certainly, I can understand your case perfectly. "

Wharton went away and Clary was left behind. She pondered deeply, whether she had done right in trusting herself to the care of thesecannibals. 

CHAPTER XLIX

MALDAR'S FAREWELL

The Ice Bird flew like an arrow over the glistening waters, and in a fewhours land was in sight. Monte-Cristo went on deck with his son, and wasdelighted at the latter's enthusiasm. 

"Spero, " he said, solemnly placing his hand on the boy's head, "in lessthan two hours you will set foot in a new world. Great dangers awaityou. Will you have the courage to brave them?"

"Oh, papa, when you are near me, I have no fear. "

"Do not speak thus; circumstances may happen which may separate us. Thedesert is still unexplored, and the horrors of nature are not always thegreatest dangers which threaten mankind. "

"But why do you speak of such things, papa?" said Spero, terrified. 

"Because I am not immortal. I may be conquered. Spero, look me in theeye, and swear to me that, should anything occur, you will not despair. You must never forget that you owe everything to your mother. Love herlike one of those sainted women, for she deserves it. "

"What do you fear, father?"

"Nothing. Rest easy, my son; I live and watch over you. "

The next minute Monte-Cristo was giving his orders as usual to thesailors. Yet he was inwardly uneasy; a heavy load seemed to bear himdown, and the air he breathed threatened to choke him. 

And yet he was surrounded by faithful servants, who would willingly havegiven up their lives for him--Jacopo, Bertuccio, and Coucou. They wereall ready to brave any danger, and the breast of each of them was a wallof protection about him. 

The town rose before the gaze of the travellers. Monte-Cristo leanedagainst the prow, and gazed enthusiastically at the harbor where theCarthaginian barks had hidden Hannibal's plunder. 

Suddenly Jacopo hurried on deck, and excitedly exclaimed:

"Master--come quickly--your cabin door is open. "

"What of that?"

"The safe is open, too. "

"Impossible!"

"Master, I saw with my own eyes the contents of the safe lying on theground. Gold and diamonds are scattered about the floor. "

Monte-Cristo frowned. Was there a thief on board?

"Come, Spero, " he said, and, followed by Jacopo, father and son hurriedto the cabin. 

As the Corsican had said, the cabin was indeed open, and the carpet wasstrewn with emeralds, rubies, and other precious stones. Monte-Cristo atfirst examined the lock, the secret spring of which he alone knew how toopen. 

"It was not a thief who opened the safe, " he said to Jacopo. 

"But the jewels--"

"Just so. A thief would have taken them with him. "

Jacopo was silent; the truth of this assertion was evident to him. 

"Has any one besides you known about it?" asked Monte-Cristo, after apause. 

"No one, master; I called you directly. "

"Good, Jacopo. Speak to no one about this matter. "

"But, master; if we have a thief on board--"

Monte-Cristo frowned; he did not brook the least opposition. 

"Go now, Jacopo, and keep quiet. "

When Jacopo had gone, Monte-Cristo called Spero, and bade him examinethe lock to see if he could discover anything. 

Spero obeyed, but found nothing. 

Monte-Cristo laughed. 

"You are still young, " he said. "Your eyes must first be taught how tosee. There is a scratch on the lock which must have been made by adagger. "

"But, father, who could have tried to open the lock with a dagger?"

"A man, whose name I will tell you later on. With great skill he put thedagger in the lock and opened it. The cleverest locksmith could not havedone better. Look!"

Monte-Cristo shoved the point of his own sword in the lock, and openedit easily. 

"Really it is so, " said Spero. 

"And now let us look at the safe, which, I presume, was opened in thesame way. "

Spero looked carefully at the lock, and then said:

"It has not been opened with a dagger, I am sure of it. "

"How do you know this?"

"I see it, papa; the man must have had a spiral spring. "

"A spiral spring?"

"Yes; such as is used in pocket watches. "

"You are right. "

"And he did his work carelessly, for he left this little piece stickingin the lock. " And with these words Spero triumphantly held up a smallpiece of steel. 

Monte-Cristo clasped the boy in his arms. Spero was the worthy pupil ofthe man whose powers of observation had been sharpened during hisintercourse with the Abbe Faria. 

"And now you shall know who the man was that broke in here, " said thecount, pushing aside the diamonds which more than half filled the middledrawer of the safe. "Look here! what is this?"

"A dagger, father, " said Spero, in affright. 

"And on this dagger a piece of parchment is fastened. "

Monte-Cristo carefully unrolled the scrap of paper and read thefollowing, written with blood, in Arabian characters:

"Maldar to Monte-Cristo. The poor man who trusts in Allah is richer thanthe nobleman who fights against him. Beware of the Khouans!"

"Who are the Khouans, papa?"

"I shall tell you later on--there is no time to lose now. Come!"

Hurriedly going on deck with Spero, the count accosted Jacopo. 

"When did the Arab leave the ship?" he asked. 

"He is still here, master, in the custody of Coucou. "

"Are you sure, Jacopo? Tell him to come to me. "

Jacopo disappeared, but soon returned. 

"Master, " he said, "the Zouave is fast asleep. "

"And the Arab?"

"Has disappeared. "

"Really?"

"Yes, but we will find him. Come, now! Search every corner of the ship. "

Monte-Cristo stopped the sailors. 

"It is useless, " he said, pointing to the shore, "look there!"

Maldar stood on the beach, shaking his fist angrily at the yacht. 

"Comrades, listen, " said Monte-Cristo, "the Arab is our deadly enemy. InAlgeria every bush conceals a danger, every foot of ground carries anassassin! Do your duty, but look out for yourselves!"

The next minute the yacht reached the harbor--they were in Africa!

CHAPTER L

THE HOLY SIGNAL

At the southern end of the province of Oran, at the entrance to theGreat Sahara, is the Salt Mountain, called by the Arabs Khenegel Melch. A solitary horseman rode slowly along the road. A white hood covered hishead and a long gun was slung over his shoulder. Suddenly he halted andgazed around. On the left of him was the dark-red monolith called theRock of Blood. Many murders had been committed at this place. On stillnights faint groans are heard; they are like the cries of the spirits ofthe murdered ones, and the traveller who hears the sounds commends hissoul to Allah and hurries away from the horrible spot. The solitaryhorseman threw back his hood from his face and lifted up his long thinarms in prayer. He sprang from his horse and examined the Rock of Bloodcarefully. On the stone near the base of the monolith was a star similarto those on his horse. The traveller prostrated himself on the ground, murmured a prayer and got on horseback again. The horse sped along likethe wind, and was soon at the desert of the Great Sahara. Here all islight, not a shadow intercepts the rays of the sun, not a sound is heardhere, all is silent. The horseman rode on, his eye gazing at the sun'sdisk, which was gradually setting. He did not seem to mind the glare, and upon a closer examination of his person one would have found thisnatural. He was scarred all over and appeared to have undergone everybodily ill. His bernouse flew aside and from the open breast the handleof a yataghan peeped; no cord or belt held it. It was attached to theman's skin. The man was a martyr. Not a part of his body was whole. Hewas a mass of cuts and bruises. His brothers called him a saint. Hespoke to Allah and Allah listened to his speech. The desert was hisempire, and a smile broke over his lips when he found himself on histerritory. How he kept in his way without a path to guide him was amystery. The sun had disappeared from the horizon. The man now rose inthe stirrups and, taking his gun, laid his finger on the trigger. Heseemed to be expecting something. Was it an enemy from heaven? His gunwas pointed in that direction. The moon now rose pale and clear. A loudreport was heard. The saint greeted the moon, and said these words fromthe Koran in a loud, firm voice:

"The time will come for those who are to appear before Allah's throne. "

"The time has come, " answered another voice. 

"Swear by the wise Koran that you are sent to show the right road, "continued the saint. 

"I swear it by the wise Koran, " replied the same voice. 

"Are you he whom I expect?"

"I am he whom Allah sent. "

"Have you the sacred signal?"

"Look!" replied the stranger, throwing his bernouse aside and showinghis lean, naked breast, and on his brown breast shone a star with sixpoints. 

The saint got off his horse, kissed the ground, and muttered half aloud:

"Allah is Allah, and Mahomet is his prophet. "

"Rise, " said the other; "the true believer only kneels to Allah. "

"Are you not Allah's messenger? Have you not come to chastise theinfidel oppressors of the holy island?"

"I am he, but yet I say rise. The brothers know that I am here. Theyknew I would appear in the fourth month, at the hour when the moon rosebefore the setting sun had disappeared from the horizon. The brothers, then, have sent you?"

"Yes. "

"Are they ready to obey the messenger of Allah? Are they ready tosacrifice their own and their wives' lives?"

"Look at me! I have torn my limbs with pincers. The brothers have donelikewise. We are ready to obey. "

"Then I say to you, Maldar Mohammed ben Abdallah, the hour for revengehas come. Death to the Giaours!"

He paused for a moment; then continued:

"Where are the Khouans?"

"At Uargla. "

"Where are the Christian prisoners? Have my commands been obeyed?"

"Yes, master, not a hair of their heads has been touched; but thebelievers grumbled at showing them mercy and demanded their deaths, especially in the case of one, a French captain. "

"What does a man's death signify--the drops of blood are lost in thesands, and their trails lost forever. Go tell the brothers that beforethe moon has reached its twentieth course, I shall be in their midst, and blood will flow in streams! Go!"

With an imperious wave of the hand Maldar pointed toward the horizon, and the Mekkadem prostrated himself anew. 

"Yes, " said Maldar to himself when the saint had gone, "they shall alldie, and the stream of their blood will be the spring out of whichAllah's warriors shall drink courage. "

CHAPTER LI

UARGLA

Lost in the immensity of the desert, Uargla, the queen of the oases, was, up to thirty years ago, little known. On the day Maldar hadconversed with the saint a dense mass of people crowded about one of thechief gates of Uargla, and loud voices arose in the air. A horriblemonster, all tattered and torn, had swung himself on a pile of stones, and begun to harangue the crowd. 

"You think you are acting wisely, " he cried, "and yet you are onlyfools. In the prisons of Kiobeh you keep the enemies of Islam, and whileyou are pondering over the mysteries of the Koran, the infidel dogs aremurdering your wives and children. Arise, believers of Islam, and killthe Giaours!"

The crowd yelled like savages. 

For more than six months prisoners had been kept in the fortress, and inspite of all the protestations of the inhabitants, their lives had beenspared. It was time, many thought, to kill them and expose their headsto the birds of prey. The marabout was right, they said, and the crowddemanded the lives of the unfortunates. The marabout was delighted atthe effect of his words, and uttering a cry he sprang from his perchand disappeared in the crowd. He knew the excited fanatics would followhim to the Kiobeh, and while he was walking on he pictured to himselfthe agonies the victims would have to endure. They must all die for theglory of Allah. In their blind hatred of the Christians, the Aratins, whose deep black color is not found in any other tribe, alliedthemselves with the Arabs, the Soudanese with the Mozambites, andyelling and shouting and armed with knives, guns and daggers, thesavages marched toward the Kiobeh. Woe to the unfortunates who fellvictims to such blind fanaticism--woe to the prisoners who were piningaway in the Kiobeh!

CHAPTER LII

CAPTAIN JOLIETTE

Twenty feet under the Kiobeh were the cells hewn out of the rock. In oneof the darkest of these dungeons lay a young man with a ball and chainaround his ankles. Rags covered the emaciated form of the man, and onlyfrom small strips of the rotten and withered clothing could it be seenthat he wore the uniform of a French soldier. From the left shoulderpart of an epaulet hung, and a scabbard without any sword in it was tiedaround his waist. 

A dark form appeared in the doorway, shoved some food toward theprisoner, and disappeared without saying a word. 

Ten years before the prisoner was the bearer of a proud name. Young, rich and courted, Albert de Morcerf was the lion of the Parisian salonsand the joy of his parents. One day a crash came like lightning from aclear sky, and destroyed his whole existence. His father was denouncedin the Chamber of Peers as a traitor and an assassin. Count de Morcerfcould not defend himself, for what he was charged with was the truth. The Countess of Morcerf buried herself at Marseilles under the name ofMadame Joliette, while her son entered the army of Algeria or Chasseursd'Afrique. In three years Albert Joliette had become a captain. As helay now in his cell the past rose before him. He recollected his insultand challenge to the Count of Monte-Cristo, and his subsequent apologywhen he had heard Mercedes' story. That day on coming home he discoveredhis father dead with a bullet in his brain, inflicted by his own hand. 

But now the past had been atoned for. The bravery of the son expiatedthe old father's crimes. When Albert returned home, Mercedes enjoyed newlife at his side. But alas! The proud hopes soon vanished. All news fromAlbert ceased, and at the end of three months Mercedes, in despair, hadwritten to the Count of Monte-Cristo. 

Three months before Albert had been captured by the rebels, andincarcerated in the dungeon in which he still was. Not a human voice wasever heard. The black slave who served him with coffee could not beinduced to say a word to him. Mercedes had told him the story of theCount of Monte-Cristo; he knew that Edmond Dantes had spent fourteenyears in the Chateau d'If, and trembled when he thought of it. Yet if hewere only able to escape! But Albert soon became convinced that this wasimpossible. There was no way out of these gloomy walls. He then made uphis mind to starve himself, and for several days he had eaten nothing, so that he was astonished at finding himself still alive. When the slavewithdrew on this particular day, Albert felt his head turn and hemuttered half aloud:

"Mother, mother, forgive me, but I cannot do otherwise. "

At this moment a loud noise was heard, and the assassins led by themarabout entered Joliette's dungeon. 

He resolved to die bravely as became a French soldier. 

Heavy blows were rained against his cell, and at the same momentJoliette heard a voice call to him:

"Captain, captain! Do not despair--help is at hand!"

Just then his cell door was burst open and the murderers rushed in. 

CHAPTER LIII

THE LION IN CONFLICT WITH THE LION

We must go back with our story four days. Sixty leagues from Uargla animmense caravan was encamped. Not a tree or a green leaf could be seenfor 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 youthfuldays, and two hours after his landing Monte-Cristo was already on hisway to the desert with a well-organized caravan. One hundred energeticmen accompanied him, and his train consisted of two hundred horses andeight hundred camels. He and Spero were at the head of the party;Bertuccio, Jacopo and Coucou followed behind. Before he had left theship, the count had called his son aside, and putting a map before him, he pointed with his finger to Uargla and said:

"This is the place we must go to--in Uargla we shall find what we arelooking for. "

Monte-Cristo knew that in the centre of the desert the queen of theoases, Uargla, lay, and that it was the principal refuge of sedition. Hehad known that Abd-el-Kader's imprisonment was but the commencement of along and bloody war. The name given him by the Zouave, Mohammed benAbdallah, he knew to be that of a treacherous villain. How did ithappen, then, that Monte-Cristo had not recognized in the Arab whoenjoyed his hospitality Mohammed ben Abdallah? The count had beenrewarded for his generosity by having his cabin broken open, thecontents of his safe scattered about, and being told to beware of theKhouans. 

What the Fenians are to Ireland, the Thugs to India, the Khouans are toArabia. They formed a brotherhood whose object was the murder andannihilation of all Europeans and Christians. Monte-Cristo knew thesavage nature of these enemies. He was now within four days' journey ofUargla, and began to hope that perhaps he would find what he wasseeking. When night came, Monte-Cristo withdrew with Spero to his tent. The count wrote to Haydee. A courier went north every day, butMonte-Cristo had not yet been able to send Mercedes any consolation. Spero, tired out by the fatigues of the day, had fallen asleep, and thefather often gazed with pleasure at the finely chiselled face. How manydreams and hopes rested on this son! Yes, when he gazed at Spero, he hadto confess that he had dealt too harshly with Morcerf. If he had been afather at that time, he would have hesitated before he had carried outhis plan of vengeance. Ah! he must hurry and bring back to Mercedes herson, so that the punishment should not fall on Spero's head. 

Suddenly Spero uttered a cry in his sleep, and looked wildly about him. 

"No, no; let me go! Papa, help--they are carrying me away--help me!"

Monte-Cristo, frightened, bent over the sleeping boy. 

"What is the matter, Spero?" he asked, tenderly; "have you beendreaming?"

"Oh, how glad I am it was only a dream! I will tell it to you. "

"Speak, Spero, I am listening. You know, " he consolingly added, "dreamsare untrue. "

"Yes, you have often told me that, and yet--"

The child paused and looked timidly in the corner of the tent. 

"Why do you look so timidly over there?" asked the count, anxiously. 

"Papa, do not laugh at me, " whispered Spero, "but I do not think I wasasleep. A little while ago, I saw the curtains of the tent part and adark form appeared at the aperture. "

"When was it, Spero?"

"At the moment when you laid the pen down and came to me. "

"You saw me then? You were not sleeping?"

"I do not know, papa; I have read of the eye of the serpent, whichfrightens the little birds and prevents them from making a singlemovement. I could not move, and the two men drew near me. They pressedtheir long hands upon my forehead and wished to drag me off. Thenfinally I screamed and they disappeared. "

Monte-Cristo embraced the excited child and reassuringly murmured:

"Keep quiet, Spero, I am with you. "

Monte-Cristo looked thoughtful. Suppose his boy should be taken fromhim? No, it was nonsense. Spero must have been dreaming. 

"Spero, " he said, turning to the child, "I shall watch over yourslumbers! Lie down again and have no fear. Come, I will kiss you; thinkof your mother and go to sleep. "

The boy smiled now and his pale cheeks grew rosy. His father's voicegave him courage, and, laying his head upon Monte-Cristo's shoulder, hefell asleep, murmuring: "Dear, dear mother. "

When he was fast asleep, Monte-Cristo gently withdrew his arm and softlywalked to the corner of the tent. The cloth of which the tent was madewas very strong and thick, and withstood the rays of the sun and therain. When the count let his hand glide over it, he almost uttered a cryof astonishment. Spero had not been dreaming! The tent had been cut fromtop to bottom as if with a sharp sword. 

Who had any interest in breaking into his tent? Did they wish to killhim or Spero?

The count turned deadly pale. He had tried to reassure Spero by tellinghim that dreams were untruths, but he himself felt disturbed. Throwingthe curtains of the tent aside, Monte-Cristo went out into the night. The pale moonlight shone full upon the dark rocks. With the sharp glanceof an eagle Monte-Cristo gazed about. It seemed hardly possible to himthat two men had gone through the camp unhindered and undisturbed, andyet it was so. The cut in the canvas was the best proof of this. Shakinghis head, the count returned to the tent and mended the tear in thecloth with fine wire thread. Thereupon he shoved the table near the walland began to write. Spero could sleep peacefully; his father waswatching. Haydee had intrusted the child to him, and he had to bring itback to her in safety. Suddenly he was aroused by the roar of a lion. The count seized a gun, flung his arm about Spero, whom he would nothave left alone for the world, and hurried out. The Arabs, stricken withterror, had fled in all directions. 

"Let no one stir!" shouted the count above the din. "I will answer foryour life, but you must obey my orders. "

"Here I am, " said Coucou, coming forward. "Master, let me follow you. Iknow the lion and understand how to fight him. "

"Master, take my life, but spare your own, " implored Jacopo. 

"Jacopo, Coucou, " said the count, "I intrust Spero to you, and let noone fire until I do. The first shot belongs to me. If I should miss thelion, then you can take your turn. "

A new uproar was heard, followed by the report of a gun. 

"A man seems to have attacked the beast, " said the count, running in thedirection whence the sound proceeded. 

To his horror he saw a man lying on the ground, and the lion standingover him with one paw on his breast. It was Bertuccio, Benedetto'sfoster-father. Carefully, fearlessly, looking into the yellow eye of theking of beasts, Monte-Cristo advanced. The lion growled. The slightestmovement would have caused Bertuccio's death. With a bound it sprang atthe count. Quick as thought the latter fired. With a roar of pain themajestic beast turned in the air and fell to the ground, dead. The nextminute the count knelt at Bertuccio's side. The latter was unconscious. The count raised his pale face, and, dashing some water over it, gradually restored the old man to his senses. 

"Bertuccio, " he softly said, "do you know me?"

"Yes, master. Ah, the lion has finished me! Its claws were buried likedaggers in my breast. "

"Have you nothing to say to me? Have you no wish to be carried out?Speak, you know I am your friend. "

"Quick, quick!" he whispered, breathlessly; "onemore--drop--Spero--you--"

"Drink!" said the count, placing a bottle to his lips. 

"Master, beware of your enemies. I saw them, I followed them, and then Imet the lion. "

"Enemies, you say? How many were there?"

"Two. They were Arabs. Ajassuas, as I believe. Oh, beware of them!"

"Bertuccio, since twenty years you have been a faithful friend to me. Speak, and I swear on my honor I will do what you say. "

"My dear master--it is--about--that wretch. "

"You speak of Benedetto?"

"Yes. I would have killed him then if you had not held me back, but yetI am glad I did not do it. I ask you as a favor to--"

"To what?"

"To let Benedetto live, if he should ever cross your path. He must notdie by your hand. "

"I swear not to kill him, Bertuccio; by the head of my child. "

Bertuccio muttered his thanks, and passed silently away. 

"The lion has conquered the lion, " whispered a voice close to thecount. 

Monte-Cristo turned around and saw a delicate young girl in a whitebernouse. 

"Who are you?" he gently asked. 

CHAPTER LIV

MEDJE

At the count's question, the girl passed her small white hand slowlyacross her forehead, and in a low voice said:

"I am she who no longer has any family, for her family has beentortured; she has no native country, for it has exiled her; no friend, for her only one is in the power of his enemies. "

"Then your name is Medje?" exclaimed the count in a sudden fit of joyfulinspiration. 

"Yes, I am Medje, " she proudly answered, throwing back her veil andrevealing a countenance of superb beauty. 

Coucou now hastened up, and as he beheld the young Arabian, he excitedlyexclaimed:

"Medje, commander, it is Medje. Ask her where her 'little papa' is. "

Medje turned deathly pale as she heard these words. 

She stretched her arms toward the south and mournfully said:

"Little papa is down there, in the sultana's dungeon. "

"Do you mean Captain Joliette, whom you call little papa?" askedMonte-Cristo. 

"Yes. "

"And the sultana is Uargla, the mysterious city?"

The young girl shivered as she replied:

"Yes, Uargla. There he suffers and there, too, he will be killed. "

Monte-Cristo waved back those around, and then asked her in a whisper:

"Why did you come here?"

"To look for you. "

"For me? Do you know me?"

"No. "

"Somebody has told you my name?"

"No. "

"Explain yourself more plainly. "

"I will tell you everything, but let these men go away. "

"Follow me, " said the count. 

The count ordered Coucou to take charge of the dead lion, and ofBertuccio's body, which would be buried in the morning. He then gazedintently at the girl, and recognized two pale six-cornered stars in deadgold color on her cheeks. This filled him with new hope. 

"Poor Bertuccio, " sighed the Jackal, "he was a good comrade. "

"And a faithful soul, " added Monte-Cristo. 

Spero came running up, and winding his arm around his father's neck, whisperingly asked:

"Papa, why could I not accompany you?"

"My child, it was a fight with a lion. "

"You were not afraid? Why should I have been?"

The handsome boy now, for the first time, perceived Medje, who smiled athim. 

"Who is that, papa?" he asked in a whisper. 

"A friend, Spero; offer her your hand. "

The boy obeyed and Medje raised his hand to her lips, murmuring:

"Son of him who kills lions, may God measure your years by the kisseswhich your father gives you. "

Monte-Cristo clasped his arms around Spero's shoulders and, accompaniedby him and Medje, approached the tent. But before he reached it an Arabexcitedly ran toward him with outstretched arms. 

"Oh, master, hear me. Do not let this woman cross the threshold of thecamp. "

"Why not?"

"Did you not see the sign on her cheek? She is accursed. "

Involuntarily Medje covered her face with her hands. 

Monte-Cristo angrily retorted:

"Silence. The weaker have a right to the hospitality of the stronger. "

"Oh, my lord. Heed my warning. She is a witch, an accursedfortune-teller. You will be sorry if she enters the camp. She will casta spell over camels and men. "

"All the same, leave me. Medje has placed herself under my protectionand I will not deceive her confidence. "

The Arabian girl clung weeping to the count. 

"Do not grieve, " he said, "you have mentioned a name which renders youholy in my eyes. "

He then turned to the Arab, and sternly continued:

"You may have your liberty if you desire. But if you have not onlyspoken in your own name but also in that of your comrades, tell themthat Monte-Cristo, the lion-tamer, is afraid of nobody. They may allleave. The desert with its terrors cannot alter my will. "

The other Arabs, who had drawn near, heard these words, andenthusiastically exclaimed:

"We will not leave you, lion-killer. "

The count nodded and, addressing the Corsican, said:

"Give him double what he claims. In my home no attention is paid tomagic; we honor God and laugh at demons. "

He slowly entered his tent, and gazing at Spero and Medje, in a friendlytone of voice said:

"Do not be afraid, I am protecting you. Draw nearer, Medje, and answermy questions. "

The young girl bowed low in token of obedience, and the count began:

"So you know Captain Joliette?"

"Yes, he saved my life, and thereby became my lord and master. "

"You know who has captured him?"

"Yes, they are the enemies of my race as they are of yours. They arecalled the Ajassuas and fear nothing and nobody--oh, they are theemissaries from the regions below!"

"Are they masters of Uargla?"

"Yes. "

"And you assert that Captain Joliette is still alive?"

"Yes, he still lives, I swear it; but he is suffering untold tortures ina damp, dark, subterranean dungeon. Oh, would I could suffer his anguishand terrors for him; he has saved me, and now that he should miserablydie!"

Hot tears ran over Medje's brown cheeks, and her small hands wereclasped convulsively. Monte-Cristo watched her narrowly, and Coucou'stale that the Arabian girl had disappeared almost at the same time asthe captain again came into his mind. 

"You love Captain Joliette?" he asked. 

"Does not the weak child love its father who guides its totteringfootsteps? Yes, I love him whose name you have mentioned. He is thestrong trunk which gives support to the clinging vine. "

"And why do the Arabs refuse to permit you to remain in camp? Yourcheeks bear the sign of an accursed caste, the brand of the murderousKhouans. "

Medje's face became fiery red. 

"Hear me, " she said, "before you condemn me. You will be just to me notonly on account of your brother but also for the sake of this child. "

She pointed to Spero, who had again fallen asleep, and Monte-Cristo, frightened in spite of himself, said:

"Speak. I will not interrupt you again. "

"My father, " began Medje hastily, "was a mighty Kabyle chief. He was awise man and his tribe was industrious and prosperous. 

"Then came the day when your countrymen, the French, set foot on oursacred shores. My father summoned his tribe to arms, and took part inthe battle against the invaders. During a bitter fight between theEuropeans and the Arabs a traitor showed the enemy a secret path throughthe defile, and, taken by surprise, my father saw himself surrounded bythe enemy. Our troops had been so decimated by the murderous fire thatscarcely more than a hundred remained. A marabout who was in the campinduced them to seek refuge in a cave, and hardly had my father enteredit with his troops when the treacherous marabout betrayed hishiding-place to the enemy. They stationed themselves before the openingand fired in on the helpless Arabs, who were caught like rats in a hole. 

"In less than half an hour only half of the number were still surviving, and the French called upon them to surrender. My father, all bleedingfrom his wounds, had an interview with the French general, in which heoffered his own life and pledged that none of the tribe of Ben-Ali-Smahwould ever again take up arms against the French. This he did oncondition that his men were to be let go free. The general accepted theoffer and my father took the solemn pledge; then he bared his bosom tobe shot. 

"But the Frenchman was a noble man, and, taking my father's hand, saidthat France sought friends and allies in Africa, not slaves. He did notwant his life, but his friendship. We lived very happy and peacefulafter that, only we were called renegades by the other tribes, andespecially the Khouans, that murderous class which believes that itpleases Allah if they shed their fellow beings' blood. 

"Five years had elapsed, and I was then twelve years old, when my fathergave a great feast in honor of a celebrated French commander who visitedour settlement. Suddenly, at midnight, when the festivities were over, and we were all lying in a deep sleep, the Khouans made an attack on ourvillage. 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, andtheir limbs hacked off by the murderous Khouans with their yataghans. Mymother was one of those tortured to death in this way. Her last wordswere: 'Medje, avenge us, and remember your father's oath. ' I swooned asshe died. I was recalled to life by sharp pain on my cheeks. With ashriek I opened my eyes, and saw standing before me a man holding awhite-hot iron in his hand, with which he had just branded me. 

"'By Allah, ' he exclaimed, 'I forbid you to touch this maiden; shecarries the sacred sign. '

"All stepped reverently back, and while the terrible pain forced the hottears out of my eyes they fell on their knees before me and murmuredunintelligible words. The man who had saved me was a powerful sheik ofthe Khouans. I did not then understand the motive of his action. Someold women took me in charge, and I was conveyed still further into thedesert. From time to time I fell into a semi-comatose condition, andwhile my limbs became convulsed I uttered incoherent words, which theold women proclaimed to be prophecies. Much later I discovered that theyhad put me in this terrible condition by means of opiates. That is howthey wanted to make me a Khouan priestess. 

"Finally, when I was sixteen years of age, the sheik who had saved mylife wanted to make me his wife. He was my father's and mother'sassassin, and I hated him. To escape his odious addresses, I plunged adagger in my breast. I would rather die than belong to him. For weeks Ilay between life and death, and when I recovered I determined to flee. Amidnight attack on the Ajassuas tribe, as the Khouan caste was termed, gave me the opportunity. I made good my escape, and wandered on and onuntil I sank senseless from exhaustion on the ground. 

"When I recovered my senses I found myself in an oasis near a ripplingbrook, the clear, cool water of which slaked my thirst, and the fruit ofa date-tree stilled my hunger. Guiding myself by the stars I took anorthern direction, hoping to find some Frenchman who had been myfather's friend. Suddenly, however, I saw a panther's eye gleaming at mefrom the bushes. I wanted to cry for help, but I could not. The nextminute I felt the sharp claws of the wild beast on my back and with agroan sank to the ground. 

"I awoke under the kind care of a man who was binding the wound on myshoulder. That man who had saved me from the panther's clutches wasCaptain Joliette. Days of ineffable bliss followed. The captain took meinto his French camp and surrounded me with every care and attention. Icalled him my 'little papa. ' Oh, how I love him! I could place my handsunder his feet. He became my teacher, and I soon learned to speak hislanguage. The other soldiers were also kind to me and especially Coucou, who has now recognized me again. The days I spent in the French campwere as if spent in paradise. But alas, misfortune soon threw its blackshadow over me. 

"One night I awoke in my tent on account of a strange noise. For aninstant I saw the black face and gleaming eyes of an Ajassua, then theydisappeared and I discovered that the canvas of my tent had been slitfrom top to bottom with a keen dagger. "

As Medje related this incident Monte-Cristo could not repress a slightshudder. Had not Spero had the same experience, and was not the canvasof his tent slit in the same manner? What if the same danger threatenedhim?

"I could not sleep any more, " continued Medje, "and as soon as day cameI hastened to the captain's tent. He was on the point of starting out onan expedition with twenty men. I begged him on my knees not to leave mealone behind, but he only laughed at my fears, kissed me on theforehead, and rode off at the head of his small detachment. 

"The day seemed to me interminable. When night came and the captain didnot return I became terribly anxious. I rushed to the outer posts andgazed fixedly down the roadway. Suddenly I felt myself thrown to theground, a gag forced in my mouth, my hands and feet were bound withsilken cords, and then powerful hands lifted me up on the back of ahorse which dashed off at headlong speed. 

"How long the mad ride lasted I cannot tell. Finally the gag was takenfrom my mouth, and through the folds of my veil I recognized the sheikof the Ajassuas, who was bending over me. 

"'This time you shall not escape from me, ' he declared, and the ride wascontinued for three days and three nights before we came to a finalhalt. 

"I found myself in Uargla, that terrible city in whose streets bloodflows in streams. I was brought into a solid tower of Kiobeh, and thefearful attendants, who saw in me a priestess of Allah, again surroundedme. 

"At first I refused all food, wishing to starve to death, but I laidaside this idea, as I had a presentiment that I would still be of someservice to my friend. Two days later I heard a terrible noise in thestreet, and hastening to the grated window of my cell, gazed out. 

"I saw a sight which froze my blood with horror. Dark forms clad inlong brown cloaks carried a bier made of twigs of trees, and on it, pale, bleeding, and with closed eyes, lay my protector, CaptainJoliette. 

"I shook my prison bars; I wanted to get out and die with my friend. Invain; the grating did not shake or give way. At this instant I feltmyself pulled back, and the man who had dared to make love to me stoodbefore me. 

"'Medje, ' he said, 'the Frenchman who stole you is in our hands. '

"'And you will kill him, coward, ' I cried. 

"'No, not yet, ' he replied with a smile; 'look!'

"I did so, and saw the captain carried on the bier through the low irongate. 

"'They will put this Christian, as you call him, in a dark cell and keephim there month after month until he longs for death. '

"'And what will you do with me?' I asked. 

"'Keep you for myself. '

"I then made an infamous bargain; God forgive me for doing so. I toldhim I would be his if he would set the captain at liberty. He hesitatedat first, but finally accepted. I made him take a solemn oath, and he, in turn, obliged me to do the same. 

"'Leave me, ' I then said, 'and when you have fulfilled your word, return. '

"He went, and I stood at the window hour after hour. The fatal door didnot open. On the fourth day I learned the reason. An order had beenissued prohibiting the setting at liberty of any prisoner, and the manto whom I had sworn the oath had quarrelled with the others on accountof the order, and had been killed. My hope to serve my friend wasblasted. A strange rumor next reached me that a marabout was preachingimmediate massacre, and I knew not whether Captain Joliette was alive ordead. I could now walk about Uargla where I pleased, and I determinedone evening to wrap myself in my veil and take advantage of the strangesuperstition in which I was still held. The sentinel trembled when hesaw me. I approached him and said some strange words which came into myhead. He threw down his weapons and fled. I passed out of Uargla andstrayed into the desert. Allah has guided my footsteps to you. You willsave him, I feel it, I know it. "

"May Heaven grant your wishes!" said Monte-Cristo, as, leaving the tent, he summoned Jacopo and ordered him to get ready to depart at once. 

"Hurrah! we're off at last!" cried Coucou, throwing his cap in the air. 

At this instant a discharge of musketry was heard. Monte-Cristo hastenedin the direction of the sound, followed by Coucou and about fifty men. The camp appeared to be surrounded, yet, at a shrill cry, which seemedto be a signal, the horsemen suddenly wheeled about and dashed away. 

What did it mean? A sudden thought darted through Monte-Cristo's brain. He rushed back to his tent. The couch was empty--Spero was not there!The terrible truth burst on his mind. The attack had been only feigned. The bandits had stolen his boy!

The strong man wept; but, as a hot tear fell on his hand, he shook hishead like a lion aroused from his sleep, and shouted:

"To horse! To horse! To Uargla!"

CHAPTER LV

"DO NOT DIE, CAPTAIN!"

We left Captain Joliette at the moment when the savages commanded by themarabout entered his cell, and a voice had called to him:

"Do not die, captain!"

"Kill him! kill him!" shouted the crowd. 

The marabout now advanced toward the captain, and, placing his lean handon the prisoner's shoulder, said:

"There is but one God, and Mahomet is his prophet!"

The effect of these words on the populace was most magical. They allfell back and opened a space for the approach of a motley group ofhorsemen. 

"The Khouans! the Khouans!" was whispered from one to the other. 

They all crowded around and kissed the mantle of the chief. 

"You are all cowardly murderers!" cried Albert. "Make an end of it. "

"You want to die?" said the chief. "All right; but I warn you that youragonies will be terrible!"

Upon a wink from the chief the captain was tied to a post. 

"Bring out the other prisoners!" commanded the Arab chieftain. 

They were thirty in number, all French soldiers, and upon the directionof the chief they were led past the post to which Albert was tied. 

"Long live our captain!" they cried, as they caught a glimpse of hisuniform. 

Tears started in Albert's eyes, and he loudly joined in the cry. 

The rear of the procession was brought up by a strange-looking person. His walk betrayed the Parisian boulevardier, and the remnants of hisclothing confirmed the opinion. When he passed the marabout he criedaloud in French:

"You old fool, you, what are you staring at? You don't want me to admireyour ugly face, do you?"

The marabout, who did not understand French, looked at him inastonishment, while the soldiers burst out laughing. 

The stranger looked sharply at Albert, and said:

"Captain, by all the saints, you must not die. "

"What?" exclaimed Albert, surprised, "it was you who--"

"Yes, I, Gratillet, journalist, Beauchamp's friend and your friend, "continued Gratillet. "Captain, we must escape out of this to-night;to-morrow it might be too late. "

Albert was encouraged by the journalist's words, and began to hope. Butjust then a wild tumult arose; the Arabs, yataghans in hand, rushed uponthe three nearest prisoners, and literally chopped them in pieces. Having tasted blood, they butchered right and left. Only a few prisonersstill remained, and among them was the reporter. 

Albert, in a daze, gazed at the massacre and the pools of blood whichalready threatened to reach his feet. 

Gratillet now fell. No shot had struck him. Horror had no doubt put anend to the poor fellow's life. 

Before Albert had time to realize the imminent danger of his situation, the scene changed as if by magic. The sheik and his subjects, followedby the marabout, took to their horses and suddenly disappeared. None ofthem thought of their principal victim, and the captain tried in vain toguess the riddle. 

Darkness set in, and by the dying rays of the sun Albert saw a cavalcadecoming up the road to Uargla. At the head of the procession rode a tallman, whose green turban denoted that the wearer had made a pilgrimage toMecca, for only those who visit the Kaaba have the right to decoratethemselves with the sacred emblem. 

Who could this man be? Albert had never seen him, and yet the greenturban appeared to him to be a sign of approaching rescue. 

The man who wore this green turban was Maldar. He had been gone a year, and his return had been the signal for the revolt to break out. All theprisoners that were taken he had ordered to be confined until his returnfrom Mecca. He was very angry when he heard that the prisoners had beenmassacred. 

"Unfaithful, traitorous people!" he exclaimed at the mosque at Uargla. "Who told you to disobey my orders?"

The Khouans begged pitifully for mercy. 

"Allah demands obedience, " continued Maldar; "and now bring the youngprisoner, who is waiting in front of the mosque, for the sentence. "

The sheik departed, and soon returned with Spero, who was tightly bound. The lad was pale, but courage shone from his dark eyes. 

"Come nearer, " said Maldar, "and tell me your name. "

"Why do you wish to know, and by what right?" asked Spero, folding hisarms. 

Maldar gnashed his teeth. 

"By right of the strong, and with the right to punish you for the sinsof your country. What is your name?"

"Spero. "

"Spero means hope. Tell me now the name of your father?"

"My father is the Count of Monte-Cristo!"

"I know. Your father is one of those brainless fools who imagine everyone must bend the knee to them. What rank does he occupy in yourcountry?"

"He is a prince who governs the souls of men. "

"Your father is rich--very rich?"

"What does that concern you?"

"You are brave, and your father must love you. "

Spero did not answer, but his eyes sparkled when Maldar spoke hisfather's name. 

"I will know how to strike your proud father; he shall grovel in thedust at my feet. I--"

He stopped short. A new idea seemed to have taken possession of him. 

"All the prisoners are dead, are they not?" he asked, turning to asheik. 

"No, master, one still lives, a French officer. "

"His name?"

"Captain Joliette. "

In spite of his self-control, Spero gave a cry of astonishment, for heknew that it was to rescue the captain that Monte-Cristo had set out forAfrica. 

"Go, " said Maldar, "bring the prisoner here. "

The sheik left, and Maldar walked up and down with his big strides. 

"Master!" cried the sheik, running in breathlessly. 

"Well?"

"Captain Joliette is gone. "

"Gone!" screamed Maldar in a rage. "Within one hour he must be broughtback to the Kiobeh. If not you must answer with your head; and now bringthe lad to the iron chamber, and see that he does not escape!"

CHAPTER LVI

THE FLIGHT

By what miracle had Albert escaped?

The reader will recollect that Gratillet had fallen into the sea ofblood which had streamed from the wounds of the victims. As soon as theKhouans had gone a flock of vultures immediately encircled the scene ofthe massacre and began to hover about the dead bodies. 

Albert was leaning with closed eyes against the post, when a well-knownvoice angrily cried:

"Captain, let us think now of our rescue. "

It was Gratillet. 

"Let me die, " murmured Albert, wearily. "I do not care to live anymore. "

"You are talking nonsense. Die, forsooth! Shake off your torpor and be aman. "

"Through what miracle did you recover your life?"

"None, I tell you. I never was dead; only shamming. Oh, if I only had aknife. "

While Gratillet was talking he worked at Albert's cords with his teethand nails, and finally succeeded in freeing him. 

"And now, " he said, "let's decamp, and that as soon as possible. "

The two men were soon on the road, the journalist peering about andkeeping up a lively conversation. 

"Here is a narrow pathway!" exclaimed the reporter suddenly. "Captain, lie down on the ground near me, and we can continue our little walk onall-fours. "

Albert followed the journalist's orders, and the next minute was lyingon the ground near his companion. 

"Well done, " said Gratillet. "Now we must be very careful, for it ispitch dark and banisters are unknown in Uargla. Ah, now I know where thepathway comes from. It is a ditch which gets the rain from the rocks. "

"Do you need a cord?" asked Albert. "If so, I have a scarf which answersthe same purpose. "

"Is it strong?"

"Best of wool and perfectly new. "

"How long is it?"

"Four yards. "

"Then give it to me. "

Albert handed it to him and he bound it about his arms. This done, Gratillet swung himself over a precipice and began his dangerousjourney. 

"Flying is not so bad after all, " said the reporter. "It is doingsplendidly and I--"

The scarf broke and Gratillet fell to the bottom, carrying Albert along, who had held one end of it. 

At the same moment the discharge of musketry was heard. Had they escapedfrom Scylla to fall into Charybdis?

CHAPTER LVII

AT THE FOOT OF THE KIOBEH

"Forward--to Uargla!" Monte-Cristo had exclaimed when he became aware ofthe loss of his son. Medje urged her horse close to that of the count;he noticed her, and a dark suspicion took possession of him. 

"Go back, you traitress!" he angrily exclaimed. "You have delivered myson over to the Khouans. "

A deadly pallor overspread Medje's fine features, and sobbing bitterlyshe let her head fall on the horse's neck. 

"Oh, master!" she said, "why do you accuse me?"

"Pardon me, child, " said Monte-Cristo gently; "sorrow for the loss of mydear son has made me crazy. Oh, if I could only find him again. "

"Courage, dear master, courage! Our horses are as swift as the wind. Youwill conquer the Khouans. The lion-killer is invincible!"

After an exhausting ride of three long hours they beheld the minarets ofUargla. Monte-Cristo divided his men in two companies; one he commandedwith Jacopo and Medje, the other he placed in charge of Coucou. Theirmuskets were loaded, and hardly had the count arranged his plan ofattack, than the gates of Uargla were opened and a band of horsemen rodeforward to meet him. The Frenchmen allowed the Arabs to approach closeto them and then fired their first salvo. A second one followed, andthrough the narrow streets the Count of Monte-Cristo and his men enteredUargla. A scene of indescribable confusion ensued. The Arabs fled in alldirections. 

In the meantime Coucou at the head of his little company had enteredthrough the eastern door, and, having to avenge the murder of hisfriends, he struck blows to the right and left. 

"This for Jacques! This for Pierre! This for Jean! Back, you browndevils!"

When Monte-Cristo had reached the foot of the Kiobeh, Medje said:

"It is here. "

"Light the torches!" commanded Monte-Cristo. 

It was done. 

"In the name of Allah, the merciful and charitable God, " exclaimed thecount. 

Three times he repeated the words. For a time all was silent. After awhile the door of the fortress opened and Maldar appeared on thethreshold. 

"Who are you, who comes here as an enemy?"

"Let us not fight with words, " replied Monte-Cristo. "It was your peoplewho first attacked us. "

"Blood has flowed, " replied Maldar, coldly; "and it falls back upon yourhead. "

"Your people have made prisoners; sneakingly surprised people at nightand carried them away. What have you done with these prisoners?"

"They are dead. "

"All?"

"All!"

"All dead?" exclaimed Monte-Cristo, trembling. "Woe to you, if you havespoken the truth. "

"You are false servants of the prophet, " cried Medje, "and Allah'seternal curse will rest upon you. Have you heard?" she added, turning toMonte-Cristo's companions; "the wretch says he has murdered all theprisoners. "

"In the devil's name!" exclaimed Coucou. "He shall pay for that. "

"You acknowledge that you were cowardly enough to murder defencelessmen, " said Monte-Cristo, after a pause, to Maldar; "have you been sobase as to kill an innocent child?"

"Are you speaking of your own son?"

"Yes. Is my son dead?"

"Your son still lives, " replied Maldar. 

Monte-Cristo uttered a cry. His son lived and was behind these walls. 

"You are Maldar. You have enjoyed my hospitality. What crime have Icommitted that you should punish me through my child?"

"The crime of your race! You are a son of France. "

"You say I am a son of France. Have you not served that country too?"

"Only dissimulation. I waited for a favorable opportunity. "

"What will you do with my son?"

"The decision depends on you. "

"What do you mean by that?"

"Come with confidence to us, " replied Maldar, earnestly. "In thecitadel I will discuss your son's ransom with you. "

"Do not go, master, " cried Coucou; "they are laying a trap for you. "

Monte-Cristo strode, nevertheless, toward the door. 

CHAPTER LVIII

MONTE-CRISTO BECOMES EDMOND DANTES

"Maldar, " the count cried aloud, "I am here. "

The door was opened. Monte-Cristo went into a large courtyard. Maldarwas waiting for him. 

"Here I am, " said the count. "You have called me about the ransom for myson. What is the sum you ask?"

"I did not say it should be money. "

"Then take my life--anything you wish. "

"What I want of you is neither gold nor your life. I know who you are, and the position you occupy in your country. Your countrymen haveconfidence in you, and I--"

"Go on--go on, " urged Monte-Cristo. 

"Have patience. Come here and write. "

Maldar went toward a table upon which were writing materials, and, pressing a pen in Monte-Cristo's hand, he shoved a piece of paper towardhim. 

The count was silent, and seated himself at the table. 

"I, the Count of Monte-Cristo, " the Arabian began to dictate, "informthe Governor of Themcen that I am at Uargla, and have won the confidenceof the Sultan Maldar. More than one hundred French prisoners are in theKiobeh. 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. Aforce of bold soldiers could secure possession of the city in an easymanner. Success is certain. "

Monte-Cristo, without hesitation, had written the words down, and theArabian, looking sharply at him, continued:

"Put your name under what you have just written--"

"One word more, " interrupted the count. "I understand your aim. You wantto lead a French detachment in ambush?"

"Yes. For the head of your son, I require those of a hundred Frenchmen. "

"Spero, " cried the count, "my darling boy, should I, your father, ensnare one hundred Frenchmen into an ambush? I have written the letter, the signature alone is missing; hear me, while I read it to you. "

Monte-Cristo, in a trembling voice, read the letter. 

"Spero, my son, choose between life and death. Shall I sign the letter?"

"You cannot hear his voice, " said Maldar; "but wait a moment, and I willhave him brought here. "

He motioned with his hand. The door was thrown open, and the next minuteSpero lay in his father's arms. 

"Speak, Spero, what shall I do?"

The boy took the paper and tore it into pieces. 

"Let them kill us, " he said, firmly. 

When Maldar heard these words, he gave a wild yell and sprang upon theboy. 

"Wretched worm!" he hissed; "are you aware that I can break every bonein your body?"

Saying this, Maldar drew a long pistol from his belt and pointed it atthe boy's face. Quick as thought Monte-Cristo seized the Arab by thethroat, and threw him among the Khouans. 

"Fire--fire!" shouted Maldar. 

The men obeyed, but not a bullet entered the room. 

"Put your arms about my neck, Spero, " said the count, "and have no fear. Away with the Count of Monte-Cristo, " he added in a vibrating voice;"Edmond Dantes, arise from out of the past, and help a father to rescuehis son. "

CHAPTER LIX

EDMOND DANTES

He placed himself in a winding of the narrow stairs. Here no ball couldreach him. A Khouan appeared, but the iron bar with which Monte-Cristohad armed himself descended on his head with terrific force. A secondand third received the same reception. Maldar, wild with rage, continually screamed:

"Kill him, in the name of Allah!"

Monte-Cristo was struck by a ball, and a dagger was thrust in his foot. But he paid no attention to it. He dared not retreat if he wished tosave Spero. His arm threatened to become lame, his powers were fastfailing him, and he thought all was up with him. Suddenly he heard loudcurses uttered in the French language. He recognized them as belongingto Coucou and Jacopo. Thank God! they had remembered him and effected anentrance. 

"Count of Monte-Cristo!" came a loud voice through the night. 

Not believing his ears, the count walked to the edge of the roof, andsaw a sight which nearly caused him to lose his senses. At the foot ofthe tower a troop of horsemen had gathered. The voice he had heardbelonged to a woman, and by the light of the lightning he recognizedMiss Clary Ellis, the young girl he had seen at Mercedes' house. 

"Count of Monte-Cristo!" Clary exclaimed, in a clear, bright voice, "courage! Help is coming. "

"Count of Monte-Cristo, " came from another voice, "thanks, in the nameof my mother. "

Breathless, with his arm about Spero's neck, the count leaned againstthe wall, and he whom nothing surprised uttered an exclamation ofastonishment when he looked down. 

A man was climbing up the smooth wall. So interested were the count andSpero in the picture that they did not hear the stealthy steps behindthem. Maldar was the man, and he had stretched forth his hands towardthe boy. The count perceived him in the nick of time, and clutching himby the throat, threw him headlong down into the courtyard. The nextminute the bold climber had jumped over the wall and anxiously cried:

"Count of Monte-Cristo, we must first rescue the child. "

He took a long rope and bound it round Spero's waist. Then he let theboy gently over the parapet. 

"Papa, " came Spero's voice from below, "I am safe. "

The stranger pulled the rope up anew, and said as he turned to thecount:

"It is your turn now. "

"But you?"

"Oh, never mind me; in case of necessity I will jump off. But be quick, we have no time to lose. "

Monte-Cristo grasped the cord and was let down by the stranger. Lookingup, he saw his rescuer sliding down the wall. As soon as he had touchedthe ground, the count went to him and, shaking him by the hand, said:

"You have saved my life, sir, and that of my son. Tell me your name, please, that I may know to whom I owe our rescue. "

"I am a French colonist, count, and my name is Fanfaro. "

Coucou and Albert now ran up to the count. 

"The gentleman is evidently a monkey?" he asked the Zouave. 

Fanfaro laughed. 

Mademoiselle Clary now approached the count. 

"How thankful I am, " she said, "to have arrived so opportunely. "

"And what brought you here?" asked the count. 

"I swore to follow you, " replied Clary, blushing, "but was delayed somany times, that I gave up all hope of rescuing your son. Fortunately Icame across Monsieur Fanfaro. To him belongs the credit and--"

"And now, I thank God, the matter is over, " interrupted Madame Caraman. 

"And it was for me, count, that you incurred all these dangers?" askedAlbert. 

Monte-Cristo looked tenderly at the young man. 

"I thank God I found you, " he said, extending his arms to the young man. 

"And now, " Albert said, "let me present you to my other rescuer. "

Gratillet advanced and, bowing gracefully, said:

"Count, excuse me, please, if my clothes are not exactly fashionable, but we have had no time to make our toilet. "

Albert and the journalist, instead of having fallen down a precipice, had fallen into a lake. When Monte-Cristo heard Gratillet's name, heuttered a cry of surprise. 

"Monsieur Gratillet, " he said, "are you not a friend of Beauchamp?"

"Yes, his friend and reporter. "

"But where is Jacopo?" asked the count, looking about for the Corsican. 

"Jacopo is dead, " said the Zouave; "a bullet shot him through theheart. "

Monte-Cristo hurried with Coucou and Albert to the spot where Jacopo hadfallen. Suddenly he struck his forehead. 

"What has become of Medje?" he asked. 

"Medje?" asked Albert. 

"Yes, she brought us here, and--merciful Heaven! here she lies, " thecount exclaimed. 

Medje was lying motionless on the ground, with a dagger wound in theshoulder. 

"Poor Medje!" said Albert. 

"Little father, " whispered Medje when she had regained consciousness. 

She stroked Albert's hand. Then her dark eyelashes closed over her eyes. Medje was dead. 

CHAPTER LX

SECRETS

Monte-Cristo and Albert rode slowly near Fanfaro, while Coucou andGratillet kept the ladies company. The Zouave spoke continually withMadame Caraman. 

"Tell me, " said Coucou, "how did you come to Africa?"

"Because my lady wished it. "

"That is a bitter disappointment. I had imagined that it was on accountof--"

"You--you stupid fool!"

"I will be good, Madame Caraman, if you will tell me how you came toUargla. "

"We followed the Count of Monte-Cristo. "

"You are in love with him. "

"We followed the count because we wished to aid him in rescuing CaptainJoliette. "

"But tell me about the Americans. "

"They deserted us as soon as we reached the land. The Arabs hadpreviously stolen our camels. "

"Infamous race, " growled Coucou. 

"We were thus all alone in the desert. We suffered from hunger andthirst, and had we not fortunately reached the oasis on the second day, we would probably lie now buried in the desert. At the oasis we made theacquaintance of Monsieur Fanfaro, a handsome man of forty. "

"You noticed that, " said the Zouave, ironically. 

"Monsieur Fanfaro brought us to his farm, where his wife, a charmingwoman, received us. Between ourselves, I do not think Fanfaro has everbeen a rope-dancer. His manners and features show he must be of goodfamily, and I am tempted to call him a second Monte-Cristo. "

This Fanfaro, as Madame Caraman had rightfully said, was a remarkablydistinguished-looking gentleman. Monte-Cristo looked attentively at thecolonist; he guessed that there was some mystery surrounding the man, and that something had caused him to seek a home in the desert. Finallythey all reached the oasis, and Monte-Cristo breathed more freely. Threepersons came to meet the travellers: a woman, who led a child by thehand, and a strangely formed creature which hopped about and looked morelike a frog than a human being. 

"What is that?" asked the count. 

"Oh, " replied Fanfaro, laughing, "that is Bobichel. "

"Bobichel?"

"Yes, he was once a clown when I was an acrobat. He amuses my little sonnow, by imitating the frog. "

Bobichel uttered a cry of joy as he saw the party approach. 

"Thank God, master, " he gleefully cried, "that you are home again. Caillette, Firejaws!" he cried aloud, "he is just returned!"

A woman and a giant hurried at Bobichel's call. 

Fanfaro jumped from his horse, and embraced his wife and daughter. 

"Irene, have a bed prepared. The child will be intrusted to your care. "

Madame Caraman carried Spero into the house. Monte-Cristo examined thepatient carefully, and breathed more lightly. 

"A few days' rest will set him all right again, " he said, turning toFanfaro, "and if we can make use of your friendship--"

"Count, what I possess is yours. But let me introduce you to thecolony, " said Fanfaro. 

Upon his call his wife appeared, a charming brunette about thirty yearsof age. 

"Madame Fanfaro, " said the colonist, "followed me to the desert. "

"This is Firejaws, the king of athletes. And now it is the turn ofBobichel, the clown. "

"It looks to me like a fairy tale, " said the count. "Were you really atight-rope walker and acrobat before?"

"Yes, count, and I am the only one of us who has given up the professionfor good. "

Monte-Cristo gazed interestedly at the speaker and his wife. Fanfaro, aswe have before observed, was a fine-looking man, and Madame Irene lookedlike a marquise. 

"Monsieur Fanfaro, " said Monte-Cristo at table one day, "I do not knowwho you are, but I drink to your health and that of all the othermembers of the colony. May God always protect you and yours!"

"Oh, Monsieur Fanfaro, " exclaimed Madame Caraman, "won't you tell usyour history? I am curious to know it. "

"What does Irene say to the proposition?" asked Fanfaro tenderly. 

"Oh, I am satisfied, " replied the handsome woman, laughing. 

"Good, then I shall begin, " said Fanfaro. 

And while Spero slept Fanfaro began to relate the story of his life. Asit is long, we shall narrate it in Part II. Of "The Son ofMonte-Cristo. "

"THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO" (END OF PART ONE)