The Son of Monte-Cristo

by Jules Lermina

  CHAPTER LXVIII.

  MONTE-CRISTO, THE MARTYR.

  In the Hotel de Monte-Cristo all is sad and silent. The very walls andthe furniture had a funereal air. In the large chamber lie the bodies ofJane and Esperance, the son of Monte-Cristo. How much beauty, youth andtenderness were to be swallowed up in Mother Earth! Jane, vailed inlace, had a tender smile upon her lips. Esperance, in his serene repose,was the image of Monte-Cristo in his early days.

  Near the bed were two men watching--Fanfar, the faithful friend of theCount, who had saved him and his son at Ouargla; Goutran, the companionof Esperance, who knew the greatness of that young soul. The two sat insilence, and hardly dared look at each other. They were both oppressedwith remorse.

  Monte-Cristo had gone away, obeying a sentiment of delicacy, wishing toleave his son in entire liberty to develop in such direction as hisnature demanded. But when he went he said to these men, "I confide toyou the one treasure that I have in the world--watch over him."

  And they had made answer that they would protect him from harm withtheir lives. They were living and Esperance was dead. They heard intheir ears like the tolling of a funeral bell, the words, "Too late!Too late!" If they had arrived in time they would certainly haveprevented the catastrophe, but this was the result--this motionless formwith hands crossed on his breast.

  Coucon and Madame Caraman, down stairs, were weeping and watching.

  Fanfar and Goutran were silent, as we have said, for the same questionwas upon the lips of both men, and both knew that there was no answer.Had not the Count said, "If any peril demands my presence summon me, andwithin three days I will be with you." And it would be precisely threedays at midnight since Fanfar sent the summons.

  Would he come? The clock struck half-past eleven, and no Monte-Cristo.Must they then lay in the grave the mortal remains of the son ofMonte-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 guiltytoward this unhappy father.

  Fanfar was buried in thought. He saw Esperance, when almost a child hedefied the Arabs. He saw him borne in his father's arms from Maldar'sTower. And Goutran, too, thought of the last words that the Vicomte hadsaid to him: "To love is to give one's self entirely, in life and indeath!"

  The lamps burned dimly. The clock struck twelve. The two men started,for the door opened noiselessly and a man of tall stature entered. Itwas the Count of Monte-Cristo. His eyes were dim, his shoulders bowed,and his steps awakened no echo. He was dressed in black.

  The two men did not move nor speak. They seemed to feel that no humanvoice should break this awful stillness.

  Monte-Cristo walked to the side of the bed and looked at his son, longand steadily. What thoughts were hidden in that active brain?

  And now Fanfar beheld a terrible, unheard-of thing. When Monte-Cristoentered, his hair was black as night, and as he stood there his hairbegan to whiten. What terrible torture that man must have undergone inthose minutes. Age, which had made no mark on this organization of iron,suddenly took possession of it. First, his temples looked as if lightsnow was thrown upon it, and then by degrees the whole head becamewhite. Those who saw this sight will never forget it.

  Monte-Cristo bent low over the bier on which Esperance lay. He took hisson in his arms as a mother lifts her child from the cradle, and bearingthe body Monte-Cristo left the room.

  Suddenly shaking off the torpor which had held them motionless, Fanfarand Goutran started in pursuit. But in vain did they search the hotel,Monte-Cristo had vanished with the body of his son.

  CHAPTER LXIX.

  EPILOGUE.

  A man stood on a solitary rock. Suddenly he uttered a shout of triumph.

  He had discovered the secret of immense wealth. And this man threw downthe pickaxe in his hand and standing erect, cried aloud:

  "Oh! you whose infamy condemned me to fourteen years of imprisonment,and whose name I do not yet know, beware! Dantes is free."

  Young and with confidence in the future, Edmond Dantes, the lover ofMercedes, returned to Marseilles, with the promise of a captaincy. Hewas to marry Mercedes. It was at supper on the evening of the betrothalwhen soldiers came to arrest him. He was accused of having carriedletters to Napoleon, at Elba. In vain did he assert and even prove hisinnocence before de Villefort, a magistrate. Edmond Dantes was torn fromhis betrothed, and imprisoned for fourteen years in the Chateau d'If.

  Another prisoner was there, the Abbe Faria. This prisoner was supposedto be mad, because he had offered to buy his liberty with millions. TheAbbe imparted to Dantes the secret of the treasure concealed by theSpadas in the caverns of the island of Monte-Cristo, a desolate rock inthe Mediterranean. And this was not all, the old man had also impartedother secrets to his young companion.

  And now Dantes was master of the treasure of the Spadas, and he startedto find his old father and his fiancee. He swore to avenge himself onthose who had betrayed him. He left the rock. He went to his father'shouse. His father had died of hunger. Mercedes, his fiancee, was marriedto another--to one of the three men who had woven the plot that had costDantes fourteen years of his youth. One was named Danglars, a rivalclaimant to the title of captain. The second was a drunken man, moreweak than wicked. The third was Fernando Mondego, a fisherman, who lovedMercedes. And it was this Fernando who had married Mercedes, and was nowknown by the title of the Comte de Morcerf. Caderousse, still poor, kepta wine shop, and Danglars was one of the first bankers in Paris.

  Another enemy, and perhaps the most infamous of them all, was themagistrate, de Villefort, who, knowing the innocence of Dantes, hadnevertheless sentenced him to prison. Because Dantes in his explanationused the name of Noirtier, who was the father of Villefort, and saidthat the letters he brought from the island of Elba were given to him bythis man, de Villefort, lest his own position should be compromised, gotrid of this person as soon as possible, and sent him to the Chateau d'Iffor fourteen years.

  These were the crimes that Dantes swore to punish. He did so. Danglarsthe banker he ruined. Fernando the fisherman, known when Dantes returnedas the Comte de Morcerf, was accused in the Chamber of Peers of havingbetrayed Ali-Pacha of Jamna, and of selling his daughter Haydee to aTurkish merchant. His infamy was proved by Haydee herself, and FernandoMondego was for ever dishonored. The wretched man, knowing that the blowcame from Monte-Cristo, went to him to provoke a quarrel. ThenMonte-Cristo said to him:

  "Look me full in the face, Fernando, and you will understand the whole.I am Edmond Dantes." And the man fled. Within an hour he blew out hisbrains.

  Then came the turn of de Villefort. His wife, a perverse creature, toensure an inheritance to her son, committed several murders withpoisons. De Villefort himself had buried a child alive, the child ofMadame Danglars and himself. But the child was saved by a Corsican,Bertuccio. The child, born of crime, had the most criminal instincts.And one day Monte-Cristo found him in the prison at Toulon. He named himBenedetto. He assisted him to escape, and Benedetto assassinatedCaderousse. And then Benedetto, tried for this murder, found himselfface to face with his father Villefort, the Procureur de Roi. Benedettoloudly flung his father's crimes in his face, and Villefort fled fromthe court-room. When he reached home Villefort found that his wife hadpoisoned herself and his son, the only being he loved. And thenMonte-Cristo appeared before him and told him his real name, EdmondDantes! Villefort became insane.

  And the work of vengeance was complete. Monte-Cristo was so rich that hewas all-powerful. And yet he was terribly sad, for he was alone. Thenit was that the gentle Haydee consoled him. To their son they gave thename of Esperance. And Haydee was dead! Esperance was dead!

  * * * * *

  Ten years had elapsed since that awful night when Monte-Cristo, withblanched hair, carried away the body of his only son.

  A man stood alone on a rock on the island of Monte-Cristo. And this manwas Edmond Dantes. For ten years he had lived on this rock. In all thattime he had not seen a human f
ace nor heard a human voice, except atrare intervals when some ship, driven from her course by contrary winds,sent her boats to this island for water. Then Monte-Cristo, concealinghimself, watched these men and heard their joyous laughter.

  Once, when Monte-Cristo had been on the rock eight years, he saw a shipcoming toward it at full sail. It was not driven there by contrary windsor by a storm, and Monte-Cristo saw a man on deck surveying the islandthrough a glass. Concealing himself he saw several men, whom he did notknow, land, and search the island.

  It will be remembered that long before, Ali and Bertuccio had, by theirmaster's orders, blown up the grottos, the last vestiges of the Spadatreasures.

  He saw these men sound the rocks and try them with pickaxes. They wereadventurers, who knew something of what the island had contained, butyet they found nothing. Monte-Cristo contrived to get near them withouttheir knowledge. They were disputing, one insisting that the treasurewas "there," and he laid his finger on a plan he had drawn.

  "Have you not heard," said the other, "that the island was inhabited?"

  "Sailors say that they often see at sunset a tall form on these rocks."

  "An optical delusion."

  "No--these sailors know what they say, but Italians are inclined tocarry their religion into everything, so they call this form the Abbe ofMonte-Cristo."

  "We have not found him, and yet we have searched every corner."

  "He may be dead."

  "That may be, but surely this is a proof that no such treasures everexisted here, for if they had, he would not remain here to die ofhunger!"

  "At all events we will make a sacrifice to the unknown God, as theancients did."

  And they put together all the provisions they had--bread, fruit andwine--and with the point of a dagger they traced on the rock the words:

  "For the Abbe of Monte-Cristo!"

  Then they departed.

  "Poor fools!" said the Count, as he watched the fast lessening sails."No, there is no treasure on this island save one, and that would bevalueless to you!"

  Monte-Cristo had lived all these years on roots and bark, for he hadsworn never to touch money again while he lived.

  On the night when we again find Monte-Cristo, he came down from the highrock by a narrow path which led to a platform. Here he stooped andturned over a flat stone, which left a dark cavity exposed. Into thisplace Monte-Cristo descended by steps cut in the rock. He reached asquare room cut out of the granite. In the centre stood a marblesarcophagus, and there lay Esperance. The living was paler than thedead. Monte-Cristo laid his hand on that of his son.

  "Esperance," he said, solemnly, "has not the day arrived?"

  There was a long silence. Then--was it a reality? It seemed as if thelips moved and pronounced the word:

  "Come!"

  Monte-Cristo smiled.

  "I knew it!" he murmured.

  His face was transfigured, his white hair was like a halo about hishead.

  "I am coming, my son!" he said. "I must first finish my task."

  He drew from his pocket a roll of parchment, and read it aloud:

  "MY LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.

  "Let those who find this paper read it with coolness. Let them be on their guard against the surprises of their imagination. The man who is about to die, and whose name is signed to these lines, has been more powerful than the most powerful on earth. He has suffered as never man suffered. He has loved as never man loved! He has hated as well.

  "Suffering, love and hatred have all passed away--all is forgotten, all is dead within him except the memory of the child he adored and lost.

  "This man possessed wealth greater than any sovereign. And this man dies in poverty. He so willed it that he might punish himself. He chose the wrong. He wished to bend all wills to his. He elected himself judge and meted out punishment. The wrongs he avenged were not social evils, they were private and his own. He bows low in penitence, that he did not employ his great fortune in doing good. He dies in poverty, though possessed of untold millions. He designates no heir, for he cannot feel that the most upright man may not become guilty when he knows himself to be all-powerful. He has, however, no right to destroy this wealth. It exists, though concealed. He bequeaths it to that power which men call Providence. It will bear this paper, and place in the hands of man these mysterious signs.

  "Will the treasure be discovered?

  "Whoever reads this paper will, if he be wise, destroy it. And yet it may be that this colossal fortune will fall into the hands of a man who will finish the work that I have begun better than I could have done.

  "May whoever finds this paper heed the last words of a dying man.

  "THE ABBE DANTES.

  "_February 25th, 1865._"

  Below this signature was a singular design. Monte-Cristo studied it.

  "Yes, it is right," he said. "Ah! Faria, may your treasure fall intoworthier hands than mine!"

  He felt strangely faint. He laid his hand on his heart. "Yes,Esperance," he said, softly, "I come!"

  He took up a crystal cube, which was solid enough to resist a shock ofany kind. He folded the paper, and placed it in the cube, sealing itcarefully. Then once more he ascended the stairs, and stood under thestarlit sky.

  Monte-Cristo went down to the shore. He raised the crystal cube abovehis head, and threw it with all his strength. He heard it drop into thewater. Monte-Cristo's secret was given to the waves. Then he turned, andslowly retraced his steps.

  As he went down the stairs his strength seemed to leave him. He lay downnext to Esperance. He crossed his arms on his breast. Upon his lips wasa smile of ineffable peace. His eyes closed. He was at rest.

  * * * * *

  Those who loved him often utter his name, and wipe away a tear as theyspeak of him. But they never knew where he, who was known as EdmondDantes, Count of Monte-Cristo, died.

  THE END

  Transcriber's Note: Spelling, accents and punctuation have beenchanged for consistency. Variations in the use of hyphens havebeen retained as in the original. The unexpected use of Nechar,perhaps instead of Necker, and Ali-Pacha of Jamna, perhapsinstead of Ali Pasha of Janina, also have been retained.