Jules Lermina

“ I have borne up against many misfortunes and great catastrophes, and one, even alone, prostrated me and deprived me of courage, and that was the death of your beloved mother. I realized then that I was only a man. I said to myself: 'Monte-Cristo, the color has fled from your cheek, the fire from your eye. You are in possession of old Faria's secrets and science, but you are powerless against Death. You have triumphed over Villefort, Morcerf, Danglars, Benedetto and Maldar, but you cannot triumph over Death! ”

“ A terrible cry escaped from his lips, and he recoiled with staring eyes riveted on the spectre before him.
"It is she!" he murmured. "The dead, it seems, are permitted to revisit the earth!"
The woman slowly approached Sanselme, and looked at him closely. She came so near that she could touch him, and then with a wild laugh, she screamed:
"The convict! Yes, it is he!"
And then, shuddering from head to foot, she repeated, "Benedetto! Who speaks of Benedetto?"
"What does all this mean?" asked Fanfar.
"I will tell you," said Sanselme, averting his eyes. "Yes, it is true, I am an escaped convict. ”

“ Who was this Fanfar? Irène's imagination ran riot. She heard him called a conspirator whom the police watched. He belonged to the party who aimed at the overthrowal of the royal power. How did one so lowly venture to menace one so high? Irène meditated and studied; her youthful mind awoke to great truths, and she realized that men like Fanfar were working for a great cause, and her soul was filled with noble wrath against those persons who were ruining and dishonoring France. How solitary she felt herself! How ignorant! How she longed to interrogate Fanfar on these great subjects. ”

“ Talizac caught at the mantel for support. Fongereues had heard Arthur utter the name of Fanfar, and shuddered at the ill-omen.
From Francine's drenched garments water was dripping upon the floor, and the pale face rested on Fanfar's shoulder.
The Marquis hastened forward. "Who is this man? What is he doing here?" he cried.
"Monsieur," said Fanfar, "a crime has been committed, the guilty must be punished, and this guilt is upon your son's head. You, gentlemen, seem to think that to your rank everything is permitted. Behold a young girl who, pure and industrious, toiled for her daily bread. ”

“ And now Fanfar beheld a terrible, unheard-of thing. When Monte-Cristo entered, his hair was black as night, and as he stood there his hair began to whiten. What terrible torture that man must have undergone in those minutes. Age, which had made no mark on this organization of iron, suddenly took possession of it. First, his temples looked as if light snow was thrown upon it, and then by degrees the whole head became white. Those who saw this sight will never forget it.
Monte-Cristo bent low over the bier on which Esperance lay. ”

“ The clock struck half-past eleven, and no Monte-Cristo. Must they then lay in the grave the mortal remains of the son of Monte-Cristo without a farewell kiss on the pale brow from his father? They felt as if it were another wrong of which they would be guilty toward this unhappy father.
Fanfar was buried in thought. He saw Esperance, when almost a child he defied the Arabs. He saw him borne in his father's arms from Maldar's Tower. And Goutran, too, thought of the last words that the Vicomte had said to him: "To love is to give one's self entirely, in life and in death!" ”

“ Yes, Fanfar, the resemblance is great. This is the brother of the man who died at Leigoutte. This is the man who outraged a woman one terrible night, and that woman was the sister of Simon's wife, and this man, who was then the Vicomte de Talizac, is to-day the Marquis de Fongereues. This man is your father! Does Fanfar know all this? Not he!
The Marquis opens his eyes, he sees Fanfar in the darkness.
"You have saved me!" he murmured.
"Can you stand? Can you walk?" asked Fanfar. ”

“ Instead of poison, Fanfar took a narcotic, and lies as if dead. He will be buried, of course, but we will look out for that, and he will be taken care of."
The shock to Irène was so great that she burst into passionate weeping. Gudel was doing his best to soothe her, when suddenly the door was thrown open and Bobichel rushed in, all pale and dishevelled.
"Oh! master," he cried, "all is lost! There is to be an autopsy. One of the great physicians advises it."
Irène uttered a shriek of agony and dropped on her knees.
"Run!" she cried, "the truth must be made known at once. Oh! save him!" ”

“ Bankers are measured by a standard of their own, and public opinion is never very strict in regard to them. Monsieur de Laisangy is rich, but no one says he has made his money dishonestly. I know nothing of his past, but have never heard a whisper against him, and yet sometimes he inspires me with absolute repulsion."
"My dear Goutran," said Esperance, in that grave, steady voice, which was so like his father's, "I am very young, I know nothing of life, I have never loved, but it seems to me that I could not speak as you have done, if I felt sincerely or deeply. ”

“ In a louder voice he said: "Then, comrade, we will accept your offer, and go with you to Rémisemont to-morrow."
Gudel nodded, then called Fanfar.
"To work, my lad," he cried. "We must stir up these excellent people in this village. Schwann, where is my permit from the mayor?"
Schwann hurried in wiping his hands, and from under a pile of plates he drew out a paper.
"Fanfar, sign it for me, your hand is better than mine, for the truth is I never learned to write. And now this is done, we must go forth and warn the people of the great pleasure in store for them." ”

“ Behind Bobichel sits Caillette, Gudel's daughter, a pretty, dainty creature with light hair. She turned with a merry laugh to say something to a third person, who lay on a pile of bundles of all shapes and sizes, and smiled back upon the young girl. Still further back was a huge mass which might be supposed to be a woman, from the tawny locks that floated over the shoulders, and if out of curiosity one examined more closely, a large face with pendant cheeks was discovered, a retreating forehead, a pair of small, half closed eyes. ”

“ You never were in an omnibus, I suppose?"
"No, never."
"When you wish to go out you ring the bell, and your carriage is brought round. If you go to the theatre a spacious loge is in readiness for you. You go into society—you are received with smiles. Do you know that a life like that would be my death?"
"Why do you talk thus to-day?" asked Esperance.
"I can't tell you why. The words come of themselves, but they express my feelings precisely. You millionaires know nothing of life. You are like a drop of oil in a pitcher of water—you do not mingle with the rest of humanity, and you are bored!" ”

“ If any accident happened to Esperance he felt in a measure responsible.
Caraman and Coucon came in. They were in great trouble.
"My good friends," said Fanfar, taking Madame's hand. She was sobbing fit to break her heart, while Coucon was gnawing the ends of his moustache, in order not to imitate her example. "My good friends, I do not yet believe that what Bobichel tells me is true. He says that the Vicomte has disappeared."
"Yes, sir," growled Coucon.
"Then, Madame Caraman, this is no time for tears. Tears remedy nothing, and we must have all our wits about us." ”

“ Every chapter has a strong and stirring feature of its own, while all the legions of intensely thrilling incidents are as original and surprising as they are strong. The hero is Esperance, the son of the Count of Monte-Cristo, who is followed from boyhood to the close of his wonderful and unprecedented career. His varied and remarkable adventures form a succession of amazing episodes never equalled in fiction, while his love for the unfortunate Jane Zeld and the strange complications to which it gives rise are depicted in the most fascinating fashion. ”

“ Simon went to the door. Françoise had spoken the truth. On all the roads and on all the mountain paths crowds were seen of men, women and children.
If the rout of an army is terrible, that of a people is infinitely more so. This flight from home and fireside is sad beyond expression. These peasants were running, carrying on their shoulders all that they held most precious. Their houses had been searched, for these peasants had served in the rising of '92, and they probably had arms. ”

“ But this was not Monte-Cristo. As he reached the bed he extended his arm and held to the girl's face the handkerchief, from which exhaled a blue vapor.
Jane was breathing naturally. Suddenly her whole form quivered, then came immobility. Her limbs straighten, the rose fades from her cheek, her brow becomes like marble. The man lifted the inert form in his arms, and slowly, with infinite precautions, he moved toward the portière, which he pushes aside and disappears.
Ah! Madame Caraman, ah! Esperance, you little know what is going on!
This man is Benedetto. His revenge has begun! ”

“ He had not been six months in Lyons before he was known as the good Monsieur Maslenes, and was liked by every one. He led the most regular life that could be imagined, and no one would have suspected that this stout, placid-looking person could be an escaped convict. He fully intended to live and die thus in obscurity, and really enjoyed the torpor of this existence. In the evening he took long walks, and from motives of prudence went out but little by daylight. Alone in the darkness, he often felt intense remorse, and remorse is not a pleasing companion. ”

“ Sanselme had saved several thousand francs. What should he do with Jane? He had left Lyons, hoping that a change of scene would go far toward restoring cheerfulness to Jane. Vain hope. She never forgot her mother, nor that mother's life. She learned with marvelous rapidity. Study was her best distraction. From this Sanselme hoped much. He taught her himself all that he had formerly learned, and wondered at the progress she made.
The merest accident revealed to him Jane's amazing talent for music. If Art should take hold of her and absorb her entirely, she would forget and enter a new life. ”

“ We will meet to-morrow at the Iron Cross. And remember, children, that in '92, as to-day, the invaders threatened France, and your fathers drove them out. May the children of those men be worthy of them!"
"But about the women and children?" asked Michel.
"They must be hidden in the farm-houses up the mountains. The wounded are protected by the code of war. Courage, then, and shout with me Vive la France!"
These words aroused immense enthusiasm for a few minutes.
Simon felt a hand on his; it was Françoise, with her little girl in her arms, and Jacques at her side. ”

“ The Marquis looked at him.
"Why this question? You know as well as I."
"Do you think that the Vicomte would have the audacity—"
The Marquis laid his hand on his servant's breast.
"There is no peasant," he said, slowly and emphatically, "no peasant in these parts who is capable of such a crime."
Pierre bowed his head; he understood.
"And this is not all," continued his master, "a will may be lost, may be stolen. I wish to provide for everything, and wish that Simon and his children shall be rich." ”

“ Gudel questioned Caillette again. "Had La Roulante distinctly spoken of papers?"
It was only too clear that there had been spies in their camp.
"Fanfar," said Gudel, "when one accepts a mission like ours his life no longer belongs to himself. We must fly, and at once!"
"But how?"
"We will take the horses that belong to the chariot."
"And do you forget me, father?" asked Caillette.
"No—I confide you to Bobichel."
"Oh! Fanfar, do not leave me!" sobbed the young girl.
"Dear child, there are great dangers to run!" ”

“ Labarre was told the whole truth. Fanfar was liberated, and restored to life by the physician whom Gudel had brought with him. The Marquis de Fongereues went on to the château with the body of the Vicomte.
"And Labarre, where is he?"
"In the boat waiting for us, but I have not yet told you all. We should have made an end of Cyprien, for he threatened to denounce us. The only thing for Fanfar is to flee the country. A quarter of a league from shore a vessel awaits us. Come, Fanfar, there is no time to lose, you know that you start for America to-night." ”

“ At the top was Iron Jaws, who held enormous weights with his teeth. The Giantess, who ate raw pigeons, or any other fowl that was most convenient. The wonderful Almanzor (that was Robeccal,) a descendant of the Moors of Spain, crushed glass with his teeth and swallowed swords. Then there was Caillette, the rope-dancer, who charmed the world with her voice, as well as with her aerial lightness. And lastly, in letters of the same length as those which Gudel used for himself, came Fanfar's name.
"FANFAR! FANFAR! FANFAR!
"Strength, Skill, Dexterity.
"He knows everything. He can do everything!" ”

“ The paralytic falls upon her knees, and stretching out her arms, cries:
"Jacques! Jacques!"
"Who is this terrible creature," asks Jacques, "who calls me by the name of my boyhood?"
Suddenly a strange idea flashes into his mind. He looks eagerly into the eyes of the poor woman. He recognizes her; he leans over her.
"You called me Jacques, did you not? Yes, that was my name, when I was a boy in a village among the mountains. My father's name was Simon, Simon Fougère, and I had a little sister Cinette." ”

“ CHAPTER XXVIII. CINETTE! CINETTE!
Francine's chamber is dark. The little bed with its white curtains looks as if it were built of marble. There is not a sound. The room is empty. The hours pass on, and still Francine does not return. Her absence excites great wonder in the house, for she is always in very early. "Could anything have happened to her?" one person asked another, but not a voice breathed a word reflecting on the girl's purity. ”

“ CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE CRISIS.
"At last!" cried the Marquis, when the news of Fanfar's death reached him. He sent for Magdalena.
"Madame!" he said, "rejoice with me. Let us forget our mutual wrongs, for a new horizon stretches before us. All our anxieties are over. The man who stood between us and the possession of a fortune is dead!"
"Of whom do you speak?"
"Of this Fanfar, who, after making an attempt on the life of our king, was struck dead in the court-room during his trial."
"And this Fanfar was the son of Simon de Fongereues?" ”

“ Ten years had elapsed since we last saw him, and though hardly forty, he seems an old man—his figure is bent and his stern face covered with wrinkles.
The man who was waiting for him had long been his accomplice; together they had concocted the criminal plan to which Simon fell a victim, and as a reward for his villainy, Cyprien had been made intendant instead of valet.
The Marquis entered the inn and looked around suspiciously, but saw no one but Schwann, who stood hat in hand; he did not advance, as the frown of the Marquis was far from encouraging. ”

“ The peasants slowly raised the injured man, and as they crossed the Square, they beheld a singular scene. Bobichel had Robeccal by the throat, and pressed his knees on his adversary's chest.
"Ah! Bobichel," cried Schwann, "is this the time to fight?"
Bobichel rose, and seemed to hesitate, then he flung the scoundrel from him, with contempt and loathing.
Fanfar leaped upon Irène's horse, and dashed off in the direction of Vagney.
"My father, and he," murmured Caillette, "all that I love and have in the world." ”

“ Coucon and Fanfar, who had been attentively examining the stain, simultaneously answered:
"It is blood."
"My God!" cried Monte-Cristo, with a convulsive start, "then they have slain my son!"
"Not so, Count," said Captain Joliette. "Had they slain Esperance they would have left his body here. But see," resumed he, pointing to the spot where Esperance had made the attack on Maldar; "here are evidences of a struggle; they have fought among themselves and one of them has been wounded." ”

“ On Talizac's return, he asked La Roulante where the Marquise was.
"Oh! she is asleep," was the reply.
"Show me where she is, and move a little faster!"
"It strikes me, sir, that you are not over polite," muttered Robeccal.
"Let him have his own way," sneered the giantess; "he is in a hurry to see his darling, and has no time to be civil!" She made a grotesque reverence as she spoke. She preceded the Vicomte to show him the way. "Do you know," she cried, stopping on the stairs, "that the girl is as pretty as a pink." ”

“ Sanselme made no further resistance.
Benedetto looked at the paper. "The fool has signed his own name!" he said to himself. "But it may be better, after all!" And in another moment Benedetto vanished through the window.
Sanselme sat motionless for some time, then his wandering eyes fell on the bank-notes. He snatched them up.
"We must fly!" he said aloud. "He knows all, and there is not a moment to lose. Jane—my Jane! Yes, she will consent, I am sure. We will take the seven o'clock train to Havre, and then will go to America. There she will lead a new life!" ”

“ Irène started. Caillette smiled and blushed.
"And may I know why?" asked the stranger, with a disdainful smile. "Why does——" She hesitated for the name. Fanfar supplied it. "Why does Monsieur Fanfar refuse to gain a few louis for his master?"
"Not his master," said Gudel, hastily.
"Let me speak," interrupted Fanfar. "I will explain to the lady. Our public are bourgeois and common folk who support us, and bring us success. Their hands are large, but they applaud well. They are good people, and I do not wish to humiliate them. To do what you ask would wound them deeply." ”