The Son of Monte-Cristo The Son Of Monte Cristo Part 91

"Well!" cried Coucon, "vanished like Miss Jane, like the Vicomte Esperance!"

Hark! Again they heard the strange noise.

Coucon, born and bred in Paris, had read many novels and seen many plays. He at once announced that the house they were in had subterranean pa.s.sages.

"But there are no doors."

"What of that!"

He dashed from the room, and came back with hammer and chisel!

"What are you going to do?"

"Demolish the house, if necessary."

Madame wrung her hands.

"We shall be forgiven if we make mistakes," said Coucon. "We can do only our best."

And Coucon began to tear up the carpet, and then to sound the boards.

"Above," he said, looking up, "are the bath rooms, and I think we had best begin by pulling down the hangings on the wall."

"Oh! that is wicked!"

It was of no use to argue, the Zouave had made up his mind, and he ripped off the silk as if it had been old cotton. Madame, fired by his example, went to work also. While they were thus frantically busy, the door-bell rang.

"It is Miss Carmen," cried Coucon. "She may be able to tell us something."

He hastened to the door. It was Carmen, as he had supposed.

"My friends," she said, "where is Goutran?"

"I do not know," was the reply.

"I will tell you, then. He, with Monsieur Fanfar are prisoners in this house."

"What did I tell you!" shouted Coucon. "And now, listen--the noise has begun again."

Seizing the hammer, Coucon struck three hard blows on the walls at regular intervals. He waited and listened. Three blows answered him. He struck again, varying the number, which were immediately repeated.

"Yes, it is plain. Our friends hear us, and wish to communicate with us.

But hark! they have begun." Twenty-five blows were struck, one after the other, in quick succession. The three looked at each other, greatly troubled.

"The twenty-five letters of the alphabet!" cried Madame.

"Yes," said Carmen, "repeat, to prove that you understand."

After repeated experiments it was found that communication was easy, and Carmen spelled out:

"There is an iron door under the silk."

"I knew it!" Coucon exclaimed, "I had began to tear it off when you came."

They pulled off the silk, and suddenly Coucon exclaimed:

"Here is the door!" Without well knowing what he was doing, Coucon pressed the k.n.o.b, and the panel flew open so quickly that Coucon was nearly knocked over. "Take the light and come!" he shouted.

Carmen s.n.a.t.c.hed the candelabra, and they pa.s.sed through the door.

It will be remembered what happened when Goutran and his friends entered the pa.s.sage. When their feet touched the stairs the panel closed. In fact, a secret mechanism connected the first stair with the iron door.

Those who did not know it became prisoners at once, while others simply stepped over this stair, and so left the iron panel open. But neither Coucon nor the others knew this. Down went Coucon's foot in the wrong place, and the panel swung to. At the same moment Fanfar, Goutran and Bob.i.+.c.hel appeared. They had been guided by the light.

"Goutran!" cried Carmen, running toward him.

"What! is it you who has delivered us?"

They went back all together, to find themselves prisoners? No, for Coucon had dropped the hammer, which accidentally fell in the aperture, thus preventing the door from closing entirely when the spring on the stair was touched. They were saved!

In Jane's room they held a consultation. Carmen communicated what she had heard, and showed the note she had taken from Laisangy.

"But where is the place he speaks of?" asked Fanfar.

"I can show you," she said, quietly.

Coucon ran to the stables, and in ten minutes the carriage stood at the door.

"Heaven grant that we arrive in time!" said Fanfar.

Alas! it was a vain hope. Much time had been lost while the three men had been shut up. Their candles had burned out. Fanfar tore a rail from the stairs and began to sound the wall, and suddenly they heard themselves answered, but all the time they were at a loss to understand how they had been able to establish such prompt communication. But this was no time for explanation. All they now thought of was Esperance. The carriage was driven at full speed toward Courberrie.

CHAPTER LXVI.

UNITED IN DEATH.

Benedetto entered. He was now the escaped convict, neither more nor less. On his lips was a hideous smile. He had attained his aim at last--he had in his power the son of the man whom he hated, and revenge was sweet.

Esperance held Jane in his arms, and merely turned his head toward Benedetto.

"Who are you?" he cried. "I know you not, but if you are not the basest of the base, you will aid me to make my escape from this terrible place, and enable me to take this poor child with me."

"No, sir!" answered Benedetto, slowly. "I will not aid you to escape, and you will not save this woman."

"Ah! I understand you. You are the accomplice of these scoundrels. Very well; I will make a way for myself."