The Son of Monte-Cristo The Son Of Monte Cristo Part 55

These words, coming from beyond the tomb, were terrible.

At this moment the door opened. An old man, with head uncovered and long, white hair, stood there.

"The Vicomte de Talizac is dead!" whispered one of the servants.

The stranger started, and, with a compa.s.sionate look, laid his hand on the shoulder of the Marquis, who was kneeling by the body of his son.

The Marquis looked up and shrank back, saying:

"Pierre Labarre!"

It was, indeed, the old servant, sad eyed and hopeless. He had come to Paris as quickly as possible, leaving Francoise and Caillette to follow.

He went at once to the court-room, and there heard that Fanfar had been carried to one of the lower rooms. Physicians had been sent for, who had attributed his death to an aneurism.

"You are avenged, Pierre!" cried the Marquis. "Why are you here? Leave this house at once!"

But the old man did not move.

"No!" he said, "you must hear me. We have not done with each other." He extended his hand toward the dead body. "You may well weep for your son, Marquis, but you may also weep for Fanfar."

"Yes, because this fellow, for whom you would have stolen my father's fortune, is dead. This Fanfar was my brother's son--I know it, and you know it, too, but you do not know that I killed him!"

Labarre drew back in terror.

"No, no--do not say that!"

"Why should I not say it? It is true. I discovered the secret of his birth, and I removed him from my path--I poisoned him!"

The old man staggered to the wall, where he leaned for support.

"Now, denounce me!" cried the Marquis, "and I am ready to mount the scaffold. I killed this Fanfar, and this thought is all that gives me a ray of comfort!"

"Hus.h.!.+ This Fanfar was not the Marquis de Fongereues, he was not Simon's son. Do you remember a night which you once spent in a humble cottage at Sachemont?"

"Sachemont?" repeated Fongereues.

"That night two men claimed the hospitality of an old man. One of these strangers was a Frenchman, but he was base enough to insult the daughter of the old man. He did worse--he committed a dastardly crime. That man, sir, was known as the Marquis de Talizac!"

Fongereues sat with his eyes fixed on the old man.

"The Vicomte fled like a scoundrel, leaving dishonor and despair on his track. But he never knew that the poor girl gave birth to a child--a son."

"What of that!" cried Fongereues, who did not choose to understand.

"Silence! I have not finished. Do you know who took that child and educated him? It was the brother whom you hated. Your victim was dead and he married her sister, and later, when you set the Cossacks on the village of Leigoutte and bade them to kill women and children, there was one child named Jacques and that child was your son."

Fongereues was deadly pale; large drops stood on his brow.

"You lie!" cried the Marquis, "Fanfar was my brother's son."

"Here is the certificate of his birth," said Pierre. "You knew Simon's writing, for you intercepted his letters to your father. Look! these lines tell the story."

"I, eldest son of the Marquis de Fongereues, declare, on my sacred word of honor, that the child who bears my name and pa.s.ses for my son, is the child of Jacqueline Lemaitre and the Vicomte de Talizac."

"The paper is signed with Simon's full name."

The Marquis fell on his knees.

"Ah! Monsieur, these are terrible days, but you will not say again that you poisoned Fanfar."

Fongereues shuddered, and endeavored to hide his face.

Labarre felt dizzy with horror. "Answer me," he repeated.

Fongereues answered in a low voice:

"Kill me! I have killed my son!"

The old servant started forward as if to fell the Marquis to the earth, but suddenly he remembered his old master, the man whom he had loved so tenderly, and he could not harm his son. He half turned away.

"Tell me the whole," he faltered, "I must know the whole."

"Yes," stammered the Marquis. "Cyprien, who is my slave, poisoned him. I determined to have the fortune without longer delay. I bade him do this deed, and he obeyed me. I am accursed!"

Labarre went toward the door.

"Farewell!" he said.

"No," cried the Marquis, "you must not leave me alone with this dead man. I am afraid! You must take me too to see the other."

Labarre stopped short. "Where was Cyprien?" he asked hastily.

The Marquis understood him. He rang his bell furiously. It might be after all that he was not guilty of Fanfar's death.

A servant entered. The Marquis asked for Cyprien; he had not been seen in the hotel for two days, the lacquey replied.

The Marquis turned to his father's servant.

"I have grave duties to perform," he said, quietly, "first I must see my son. You must go with me."

Labarre shook his head.

"In the name of my brother!" said Fongereues. Then stopping, he said, suddenly, "Does this fortune left by my father really exist?"

Labarre started. Could it be that this man at this time could be thinking of money?