The Son of Monte-Cristo Volume I Part 38

Monte-Cris...o...b..wed his head and a tear glistened in his eye.

It was in memory of his friend and teacher, the Abbe Faria.

Sante-Croce looked wonderingly at the count.

"You are a G.o.d!" he exclaimed; "forgive the words I spoke before."

"I have nothing to forgive," replied the count, gently; "I have only to keep what I have promised. Spero, come here."

"Here I am, papa," called the boy.

"Good, my son. You know your duty. Accompany the patriots; take my place until Aslitta's condition permits me to relieve you."

A cannon-shot caused the house to shake to its foundations, and Haydee, pale and trembling, entered.

"The bombardment begins," she whispered to her husband. "Oh, the cruelty!"

Monte-Cristo threw his arm about his handsome wife, and giving the boy a wink, he consolingly said:

"Spero will be worthy of you and me. Come, Spero, say good-by and go."

Spero pressed a kiss on Haydee's lips, threw his arms about his father's neck and whispered in his ear:

"I will do my duty."

Turning to the marquis he put his hand in that of the old man and said:

"Let us go!"

A half-hour pa.s.sed by. Monte-Cristo and Haydee were still busied with Aslitta, when a servant entered bearing a sealed letter on a silver salver.

"A courier who has come from France has just brought it," said the servant, in answer to a question of the count's.

"Did he give his name?"

"Yes; he said his name was Penelon, and that he came from Ma.r.s.eilles."

"From Ma.r.s.eilles!" exclaimed Haydee, anxiously; "oh, quick! see what the letter says."

Monte-Cris...o...b..oke the seal. The letter only contained a few words:

"I am dying from grief. Come at once!

"MERCEDES."

The count handed the letter to Haydee. The latter read it and then said:

"When do we go?"

"Thanks, Haydee," said the count, tenderly. "We go as soon as my duty here is ended! Give the necessary orders. Let Bertuccio inform Jacopo and rest easy! See, Aslitta has recovered--G.o.d will protect Spero!"

CHAPTER x.x.xII

ECARTE

Bartolomeo was thrown into a subterranean dungeon of the citadel, and now that Aslitta was lost he accepted his fate calmly. He could not be of any further service to the fatherland.

As he was sitting meditatively in his cell, the door opened and a corporal entered.

"What do you wish?" asked the major politely. "What time is it?"

"Three o'clock in the morning," replied the corporal, a handsome young fellow with blue eyes and blond hair.

"Only three o'clock. Then I have three long hours still to live. Can't I be shot at once?"

"No, no chance whatever."

"How awkward. What shall I do with myself? It's so monotonous here!"

"Oh, you can remedy that," said the corporal, laughing.

"How so? What do you mean?" asked Bartolomeo.

"Well, you see, I know that you are a good card-player. To-morrow I must shoot you, and before doing so I came here to ask you to do me a favor.

Will you please teach me _ecarte_?"

"With pleasure," replied the major.

"Good; then let us begin," said the soldier, gleefully, and pulling a pack of cards out of his pocket, he threw them on a chair and went away, returning shortly afterward with a drum.

The major seated himself on a chair, the corporal on the bed, and the drum served as a table.

The corporal was a good scholar and soon learned the elements of the game. Bartolomeo was delighted. He dealt, picked up, trumped, and forgot entirely that in a few hours he would be shot.

When the clock struck four, the young man had won twice, and he proudly exclaimed:

"If my luck continues, I will be ahead of you soon. Couldn't we play for money?"

"No, that would be unfair," replied the major, "I am so superior to you."

"Oh, that could be tested by a trial. But first I will get some rum. I am thirsty, and you are so also, no doubt."

"Thanks, I will take some too," replied Bartolomeo.