The Son of Monte-Cristo Volume I Part 15

"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 be circ.u.mspect."

"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 be put in the black hole."

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

The young girl drew back in terror, as she saw him whom she had thought was 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 so bitterly hated.

"On his death-bed," continued Valentine with emotion, "he thought of you, and the officials have carried out his last wishes, and allowed me to bring you his regards and certain ameliorations for you. From this day on you are freed from double chains, and if you conduct yourself well in the future, you can hope for other mercies. Farewell, and may G.o.d be with you."

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

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

Benedetto remained silent and the ex-priest looked distrustfully at him.

Toward evening the blacksmith came, and Benedetto was freed from Anselmo.

"Keep up your spirits," said the jailer to the ex-priest, "and I will see 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 new comrade."

"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 eye during the night, looked so miserable in the morning that Anselmo became frightened.

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

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

During this time a carriage with four horses rode from Aubagne to Beaussuet. At the inn of the latter place it stopped, and while the guard put fresh horses in the traces, the occupant of the coach, a heavily veiled woman, got out and asked of the postmaster who advanced how 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," begged the lady.

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

"Yes, Monsieur Etienne," was the servant's reply, "but the priest is not at home."

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

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

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

The door was opened by an elderly woman. She made a courtesy when she saw 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 at home. Upon which she left.

As soon as the lady found herself alone, she hastily tore open the letter. 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 lady entered 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 she walked 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-fas.h.i.+oned bureau.

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

"Ah, the closet is as safe as the poor-box," the old lady a.s.sured her.

The lady nodded her pleasure at this, and, after she had convinced herself that the door of the room was in order, she went back to the coach, took a portfolio from the jewel-casket, and brought it to the vicarage. The old lady awaited her at the door; Madame Danglars walked past her and went to the upper story, opened the closet, put the box in it, closed the door carefully, and put both keys in her pocket. She then 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."