The Son of Monte-Cristo Volume I Part 17

"Benedetto, you blaspheme. Your life is not too dear for me to purchase."

"I wish I could earn your love," murmured Benedetto, apparently annihilated; "you gave up a million to rescue me. If you had more money, I am sure you would sacrifice it to secure my full pardon."

"Oh, I do not give up all hope yet," exclaimed Madame Danglars, vivaciously.

"What? Have you still got the million?" asked Benedetto, hastily.

"I shall not deliver the money before to-morrow. But that has nothing to do with the matter. What I have promised, I keep."

Benedetto remained silent, while a thousand confused ideas ran through his mind. He stood with downcast eyes, his left hand carelessly stroking his chain and his right crumpling his green cap.

"Mother," he finally said, in a low voice, "there is no use speaking of the past--let us think of the future. You are going to depart to-morrow; where are you staying now?"

"I live at the vicarage of Beaussuet. The Jesuit fathers recommended me there, and I am staying there over-night, although the priest is absent."

"Oh, G.o.d!" sobbed Benedetto, "if I could only accompany you."

"I would be glad, too; I have a rough road to go back to Beaussuet. The mistral blows, and the roads of Oliolles are said to be so dangerous that my driver refuses to take me back to-night. Well, I will find another one."

"But why do you not stay in Toulon until the morning?"

"Impossible. I must hurry back to Beaussuet. I left the money at the vicarage."

"Wasn't that careless? A lonely vicarage, whose owner is absent--"

"I took good care of it; the portfolio containing the money is stowed safely away in a tight closet, the key of which I carry."

"But the portfolio must be a large one. It is not so easy to wrap up a million," said Benedetto, inquisitively.

"Yes, if I had to deliver the whole sum in coin; but that is not the case. Only a small part of the million is in gold, the rest is in bank-notes."

Benedetto nodded. He knew now exactly what he had desired to find out, and as the chaplain rose, and gently hinted that the time for the interview had expired, the convict turned to his mother, and weepingly said:

"Bless me, mother."

Madame Danglars placed her trembling hands on his head, and tenderly whispered:

"G.o.d be with you!"

Her strength deserted her; and while Benedetto was being led out by a jailer, she leaned faintingly against a chair.

The priest consoled her. She sorrowfully shook her head, collected herself, slipped a thousand-franc note into the priest's hand, and murmured:

"Give that to those who are as unhappy as I am."

The next moment she wrapped her cloak firmly about her, and strode toward the inn where the driver awaited her.

CHAPTER XVI

THE ESCAPE

"Well," said Anselmo to his comrade as the latter returned, "how do things stand?"

Benedetto did not answer at first, but seated himself on a block of wood and looked steadfastly before him.

"Well, has the million been stolen?" asked Anselmo, growing impatient.

"No, the million is safe for us," replied Benedetto.

"So much the better. This mistral is very favorable to us. It helps our escape."

"Really? Anselmo, we must be free in two hours."

"I shall look out for that--but what will happen then? Have you a plan?"

"Yes. Do you know the village of Beaussuet?"

"Yes. It is near the gorge of Oliolles."

"Right. We must reach this village to-night, even though we run the danger of being caught and brought back, if we escape by daylight."

"What are you talking about? There is no daylight to-day. One can hardly see one's hand now, and in two hours it will be night."

"But suppose we should be locked up in the pontoons?"

"That is what I desire. We must flee by way of the pontoons."

"And our chains?"

"Have you forgotten our little Rat King?"

"You are talking nonsense again."

"Listen, Benedetto. When a million is involved, I never joke. The saw our necessary carries will cut our chains in ten minutes. And now to work. Here comes the overseer."

The convicts grasped one of the heavy logs and pretended to be working hard peeling off the rind. As Anselmo had rightly predicted, one could not see one's own hand, and no one observed Anselmo and his companion glide toward the pontoon, which was empty.

"Lie flat on the ground," Anselmo ordered, "and feel about with your hands."

Benedetto did as he was told. Suddenly he uttered a low cry as his hand came in contact with a dark object, which flitted about.

"What a noise you make," grumbled Anselmo. "You have disturbed our poor little Rat King from his work."

"Ah, now I feel a split, too. Has the rat gnawed it through?" whispered Benedetto, gleefully.