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The Son of Monte-Cristo

Page 62

by Jules Lermina


  CHAPTER LX.

  ESPERANCE IN DESPAIR.

  It was indeed by this mysterious path that Esperance had gone. When heheard that Jane was not to be found, he at first could hardly comprehendwhat was said. He ran to Jane's room and looked about, then scarceknowing what he did, he left the house and then returned to it, afterhaving wandered over Paris for two or three hours. No one noticed hispallor when he entered the hotel. He went to Jane's room again, andthere, lying back in a low chair, he looked about with sad eyes.

  Suddenly he saw a panel slowly open in the wall. He was not afraid.Esperance did not know the sensation, and now he simply expected somerevelation. He instantly knew that this was the path by which Jane hadbeen taken away. He rose and entered the dark corridor. He had no light,and the door at once closed behind him; but he had inherited hisfather's singular power of seeing in the dark.

  He discovered the stairs, and began to descend them. He went on and on,and then another corridor, and then more stairs. Finally he reached adoor, which he opened, and entered a large room hung with silk. It wasone of the houses which had been so useful to Monte-Cristo years before.The path by which Esperance had come crossed the Champs Elysees underground, and communicated with this house.

  All was magnificent, but Esperance saw nothing. Nothing but a lacquertable on which lay a letter. This letter contained the words, "If theson of Monte-Cristo be not a coward, if he wishes to find her whom hehas lost, he will go from here to a certain Malvernet, who lives atCourberrie. There he will learn what he wishes to know, and will act ashe deems best."

  Esperance was delighted. He did not stop to think of the singularity offinding this note in this place. What did he care for this mystery thatsurrounded him? He had found Jane Zeld, or rather he had found traces ofher. He went to the chimney to look at the clock, for he had lost allidea of time, and happening to see his own face in the mirror, he couldnot repress a start. He looked to himself at least ten years older thanwhen he last stood before a mirror. He wondered at himself, when heremembered his father, whose youth seemed eternal, in spite of thetrials through which he had passed. When he went out from the hotel thefirst time he had mechanically put in his pocket a pair of revolvers--hehad them now.

 

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