Produced by Sigal Alon, Hanna Burdon, Fox in the Stars and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
https://www.pgdp.net
THE
SON OF MONTE-CRISTO.
SEQUEL TO
THE WIFE OF MONTE-CRISTO,
AND END OF THE CONTINUATION TO
ALEXANDER DUMAS' CELEBRATED NOVEL OF
"THE COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO."
* * * * *
"The Son of Monte-Cristo" stands at the head of all exciting and
absorbing novels. It is the sequel to "The Wife of Monte-Cristo," and
the end of the continuation of Alexander Dumas' phenomenal romance of
"The Count of Monte-Cristo." Like its renowned predecessors, it
absolutely swarms with thrilling and dramatic incidents and adventures,
everything being fresh, original and delightful. The spell of
fascination is cast over the reader in the opening chapter and remains
unbroken to the end. It deals chiefly with the astounding career of
Esperance, Monte-Cristo's son, whose heroic devotion to Jane Zeld is one
of the most touching and romantic love stories ever written. The scenes
in Algeria have a wild charm, especially the abduction of Esperance and
his struggle with the Sultan on the oasis in the desert. Haydee's
experience in the slave mart at Constantinople is particularly stirring
and realistic, while the episodes in which the Count of Monte-Cristo
figures are exceedingly graphic. The entire novel is powerful and
interesting in the extreme. That it will be read by all who have read
"The Count of Monte-Cristo" and will delight them is certain.
* * * * *
NEW YORK:
WM. L. ALLISON COMPANY,
PUBLISHERS.
COPYRIGHT.--1884.
T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS.
* * * * *
_"The Son of Monte-Cristo," the sequel to "The Wife of Monte-Cristo,"
and end of the continuation of Dumas' masterwork, "The Count of
Monte-Cristo," is in all respects a great novel. Romantic in the highest
degree, powerful in the widest sense of the term and absorbingly
interesting, it is a work absolutely without parallel at the present
day. 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. The
Count of Monte-Cristo and Haydee also have thrilling adventures, and
Mercedes, Benedetto, Sanselme and Danglars, together with Fanfar, again
appear. The hosts of admirers of "The Count of Monte-Cristo" should read
"The Son of Monte-Cristo," as well as all who relish a novel of rare
merit. They will certainly be delighted with it._
* * * * *
_"The Son of Monte-Cristo" stands at the head of all exciting and
absorbing novels. It is the sequel to "The Wife of Monte-Cristo," and
the end of the continuation of that phenomenal romance, Alexander Dumas'
"Count of Monte-Cristo." Like its renowned predecessors, it absolutely
swarms with thrilling and dramatic incidents and adventures, everything
being fresh, original and delightful. The spell of fascination is cast
over the reader in the opening chapter and remains unbroken to the end.
It deals chiefly with the astounding career of Esperance, Monte-Cristo's
son, whose heroic devotion to Jane Zeld is one of the most touching and
romantic love stories ever written. The scenes in Algeria have a wild
charm, especially the abduction of Esperance and his struggle with the
Sultan on the oasis in the desert. Haydee's experience in the slave mart
at Constantinople is particularly stirring and realistic, while the
episodes in which the Count of Monte-Cristo figures are exceedingly
graphic. The entire novel is powerful and interesting in the extreme.
That it will be read by all who have read "The Count of Monte-Cristo"
and will delight them is certain._
CONTENTS.
Chapter. Page.
I. ESPERANCE, THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO 15
II. HAYDEE, THE WIFE OF MONTE-CRISTO 23
III. THE COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO 32
IV. FANFAR'S ADVENTURES.--CAIN 38
V. WHAT PIERRE KNEW 40
VI. FRATERNAL THOUGHTS 57
VII. THE VILLAGE 61
VIII. THE PAST OF FRANCOISE 71
IX. WHERE THE INVASION PASSES 76
X. THE HUT AT OUTREMONT 82
XI. CHILDREN IN DARKNESS 87
XII. THE RISING SUN 90
XIII. MISCHIEF 96
XIV. TWO PLACES, S. V. P. 102
XV. MASTER AND SERVANT 107
XVI. WALK IN, GENTLEMEN! 118
XVII. ROBECCAL'S IDEA 125
XVIII. PIERRE LABARRE 133
XIX. A FIRST MEETING 142
XX. THIN PARTITIONS 147
XXI. THE GRATITUDE OF A MARQUIS 154
XXII. POOR BOBICHEL 161
XXIII. FRANCE--1824 170
XXIV. THE MARQUISE 180
XXV. THE VEAU SAUTE 188
XXVI. A MAN CHASE 197
XXVII. A GHOST 204
XXVIII. CINETTE! CINETTE! 212
XXIX. A CONSPIRACY 217
XXX. MACHIAVELLI & CO. 224
XXXI. TRIUMPH 229
XXXII. SURPRISES 233
XXXIII. FACE TO FACE 237
XXXIV. LEIGOUTTE 246
XXXV. THE NEST 258
XXXVI. SUPREME EFFORT 266
XXXVII. THE TRIAL 275
XXXVIII. THE CRISIS 278
XXXIX. THE AUTOPSY 286
XL. BETWEEN CHARYBDIS AND SCYLLA 291
XLI. VIDOCQ, THE CHIEF OF POLICE 296
XLII. TO THOSE WHO LOVE FANFAR 298
XLIII. A LETTER FROM MONTE-CRISTO 304
XLIV. ESPERANCE 307
XLV. "WHAT WILL HE DO?" 310
XLVI. FORWARD! 313
XLVII. JANE ZELD 320
XLVIII. A THUNDER CLAP 332
XLIX. HOW AND WHERE 338
L. CATASTROPHES 345
LI. A SHOT FROM A REVOLVER 353
LII. "WILL JANE ZELD LIVE?" 357
LIII. JANE ZELD'S SECRET 361
LIV. CARMEN 382
LV. THE BANKER 390
LVI. ESPERANCE, MONTE-CRISTO'S SON 397
LVII. THEY MUST BE SAVED 402
LVIII. GOUTRAN AND CARMEN 412
LIX. UPON THE TRACK 422
LX. ESPERANCE IN DESPAIR 428
LXI. ESPERANCE GOES TO COURBERRIE 430
LXII. COUCON 435
LXIII. CARMEN KEEPS HER WORD 438
LXIV. THE PLOT 447
LXV. THE MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS 451
LXVI. UNITED IN DEATH 456
LXVII. THE SPECTRE 462
LXVIII. MONTE-CRISTO, THE MARTYR 468
LXIX. EPILOGUE 471
THE
SON OF MONTE-CRISTO.
SEQUEL TO
THE WIFE OF MONTE-CRISTO.
CHAPTER I.
ESPERANCE, THE SON OF MONTE-CRISTO.
Esperance, the son of Monte-Cristo, lay sleeping in the comfortable bed
provided for him in the house of Fanfar, the French colonist, as related
at the close of the preceding volume, "The Wife of Monte-Cristo." The
prostration and exhaustion brought on by the excitement and fatigue of
his terrible adventure with the remorseless Khouans rendered his sleep
as leaden as the sleep of death; indeed, had it not been for his heavy
respiration, he might have been mistaken for a corpse. But ordinary
difficulties were not to conquer the heroic son of Monte-Cristo, who
seemed to have inherited all the marvelous power and energy of his noble
father, and as he lay there in the hot Algerian night, amid the balmy
perfume of the luxuriant tropical flowers, a mysterious smile hovered
about the corners of his sharply cut lips that told unmistakably of a
fearless nature and a firm desire to promote the success of the good and
the true. Esperance slept, and the lion in him was dormant; it was,
however, destined soon to be aroused.
In another room, around the family table, Fanfar and his guests were
seated, the Count of Monte-Cristo occupying the place of honor. The
colonist, at the urgent solicitation of those with whom he had so
strangely been brought in contact, was about to relate the story of his
life, when suddenly Monte-Cristo's quick ear caught a sound.
"What was that?" he said in a startled whisper, instantly springing to
his feet.
"I heard nothing," said Fanfar.
"It was, perhaps, the cry of some wild beast," suggested Captain
Joliette.
Monte-Cristo hastened to his son's apartment, followed by Fanfar,
Captain Joliette and Coucon, the Zouave.
The boy was still sleeping soundly, and the apartment was altogether
undisturbed.
Monte-Cristo uttered a sigh of relief; he bent over the beautiful child
and gently kissed him on the forehead.
The party returned to the adjoining room and resumed their seats.
Scarcely had they done so when a dark form, shrouded in a green
bournous, appeared stealthily at the open window of Esperance's
chamber, and, gazing furtively around, lightly sprang into the room.
"Dog of a Frenchman!" hissed the intruder in a low tone between his
teeth. "When you flung me over the battlements of Ouargla, you fancied
you had killed me; but Maldar bears a charmed life and will have a
bitter revenge!"
The intruder was indeed Maldar, the Sultan, who by some miracle had
escaped Monte-Cristo's vengeance.
As he spoke he shook his fist in the direction of the Count, who was
sitting at the table with the rest of Fanfar's guests, though his sombre
air and clouded brow told that, while preserving his outward calmness,
he yet suspected the presence of a deadly foe.
Maldar had removed his sandals, and his footsteps were noiseless. He
went to the bed and stood for an instant gloating over the slumbering
boy.
"I failed before, but I shall not fail again. Allah is great! I will
strike this giaour of a Frenchman in his tenderest spot--his heart! The
son shall pay the father's debt!"
Half-crouching and gathering his green bournous closely about him, he
crept cautiously back to the window and made the sign of the crescent in
the air. There was a slight flash, a pale phosphorescent glow, and in
the midst of it the emblem of Islam appeared for an instant like a
semi-circle of fire and then vanished.
Immediately a Khouan showed himself at the window; he leaped into the
apartment, followed by three others of his fanatical and pitiless tribe.
The new-comers instantly knelt at Maldar's feet and kissed the hem of
his bournous.
"Son of the Prophet," said one of them, "we are here to do your
bidding!"
"Rise," said Maldar, "and seize yonder lad, first gagging him with this
sacred scarf made from Mohammed's own sainted vestment. Be quick and
bear him to the desert!"
The Khouan who had acted as spokesman took the scarf from Maldar's hand
and skilfully executed his command. Esperance was in such a deep slumber
that he did not make a movement, even when the Arab lifted him from the
bed and held him in his arms.
"Away!" cried Maldar in an undertone, adding, as the Khouan sprang from
the window and disappeared in the darkness without: "Now, Count of
Monte-Cristo, you are once more at my mercy, and this time you will not
escape my vengeance!"
He darted through the window, motioning to the remaining Khouans to do
likewise. In an instant the room was empty; the Arabs had vanished like
a vision of the night.
Ten, fifteen minutes passed, and still not a sound to break the torpor
of the Algerian night, save the hum of conversation around the table of
Fanfar, the colonist. Monte-Cristo's sombre air had not passed away. He
was a prey to a species of uneasiness he had never experienced before.
Fanfar, noticing that the Count was disturbed, that some mysterious
influence was working upon him, hesitated to commence his narration.
Finally he said to him:
"Count, are you anxious concerning your son? If so, you can dismiss your
anxiety. The lad is in perfect safety beneath my roof; his slumber will
refresh him, and he will awake entirely restored. As for the Khouans,
they never deign to visit my humble habitation, and they will hardly
break their rule to come here now. Still, to satisfy you and put all
your apprehensions at rest, I will go and take a look at the lad."
He arose and went to Esperance's room. In an instant he returned. His
face had the pallor of wax.
Monte-Cristo leaped nervously to his feet and stood staring at him, his
countenance wearing an expression of intense anguish.
"Well?" said he, in an unsteady voice.
Fanfar was breathless with excitement and terror. When he could find
words, he said:
"The lad is gone!"
"My God!" cried Monte-Cristo, putting his hand to his forehead and
staggering beneath the overwhelming blow, "I felt it! I had a
premonition of some impending disaster, I knew not what! Oh! Esperance!
Esperance!"
He hurried into the adjoining room and stood beside the empty bed. The
moon was now shining in unclouded splendor and the apartment was almost
as light as day. The slight covering had been torn from the couch and
lay in a heap on the floor. Near it a small object sparkled; the
agonized father stooped and picked it up: it was a miniature dagger of
oriental workmanship, and upon its jeweled handle was an inscription in
the Arabic tongue. Monte-Cristo took the weapon to the window and the
full light of the silvery moonbeams fell upon it. The inscription was
from the Koran, and was a maxim adopted by the Khouan tribe. The Count
read it and trembled.
"I recognize this weapon," said he; "it is Maldar's. The Sultan is
living and has been here! It is to him I owe this terrible
misfortune--he has carried away my son!"
Miss Elphys approached the Count and touched his arm.
"We must start in pursuit at once!" said she, with a look of courage and
determination.
"We?" cried Madame Caraman, aghast. "You, surely, do not mean again to
face the dangers of this barbarous country, to go upon another Quixotic
expedition, and drag me with you? Remember you are a woman! Besides,
there are plenty of men here for the task!"
Clary glanced at the governess with indignation, but vouchsafed no reply
to her selfish speech.
"Mademoiselle," said Captain Joliette, addressing the heroic girl, "your
feelings do you honor; but I for one cannot consent for you to imperil
your life in a night hunt for the dastardly Khouans, who have certainly
made their way to the desert with the abducted lad. Madame Caraman is
right; you must not again face the dangers of this barbarous country.
Remain here with Madame Irene and Madame Caraman. I will organize and
lead the pursuit."
Monte-Cristo, who, in the face of the new dangers that threatened his
son, had recovered somewhat of his accustomed calmness, came to them and
said:
"I thank you, Miss Elphys, for your generosity and bravery, but you must
take the Captain's advice. Captain Joliette, I fully appreciate your
motives in wishing to take command in this pursuit, but, at the same
time, I must claim the precedence. Remember I am a father, and have a
father's duty to perform. I will lead the pursuit."
Captain Joliette bowed.
"So be it," said he, "it is your right."
Coucon, Fanfar, Gratillet and Iron Jaws eagerly offered their services,
and even Bobichel forgot his merry pranks and demanded to accompany the
expedition. The Count of Monte-Cristo desired the former clown to remain
for the protection of the ladies, but Miss Elphys protested against
this.
"Take Bobichel with you," she said. "We can protect ourselves."
Bobichel, overjoyed, ran for the horses, and the little army instantly
mounted, riding away toward the desert at the top of their animals'
speed, with Monte-Cristo at their head.
Meanwhile Maldar and his Khouan followers were dashing along at a rapid
pace on the fleet Arab coursers with which they were provided. One of
the party bore Esperance before him on his saddle. The boy had not been
aroused from his lethargic sleep by the abduction and subsequent flight.
He slept peacefully and profoundly.
The fanatical Arabs maintained unbroken silence, and the sound of their
horses' hoofs was deadened by the sand.
Maldar rode a trifle in advance. Now that the excitement of the
abduction had worn off, he was as stoical as the rest, but occasionally,
as he thought of his triumph over Monte-Cristo and the vengeance he was
about to take upon his hated enemy, for he had decided to put Esperance
to a lingering and terrible death and send the lad's gory head to the
agonized father, a grim smile stole over his otherwise impassible
countenance, and a demoniac gleam shot from his eyes.
But suddenly a faint sound was heard in the far distance. It came from
the direction of Fanfar's farm. Maldar listened attentively; then he
said to the Khouans, whose quick ears had also detected the sound:
"Ride like the wind, sons of the Prophet! We are pursued! The Count of
Monte-Cristo and his unbelieving French hounds are on our track! But if
they would overtake us and recover the boy, they must have the cunning
of serpents and horses as fleet as the lightning's flash!"