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Don Clemente was much grieved at the thought of not seeing his good friends again, and especially not to be able to confer with Signor Giovanni the next day, to warn him of Benedetto's danger, and to consult with him concerning a means of defence. "They are Christians of gold," he said sadly, and in submissive tones. "I believe you," replied the Abbot.
"Perhaps the trial has been postponed," said the journalist, and turning to a reporter of his acquaintance, he hurriedly asked: "Does Benedetto's trial take place to-day?"
"Benedetto's trial," answered the reporter, musingly: "ah, yes, now I know the murder in Monte-Cristo's garden, and, if my memory is right, I believe the murderer pretends that he is the son of the procureur du roi, Monsieur de Villefort." "Perfectly right; you have an enviable memory," laughingly said Beauchamp. "Well, does the trial take place?" "Certainly, it's the third day of the case."
A sentinel of the besiegers had marked Benedetto's fall, and the disappearance of the body into the earth. A pool of blood revealed the entrance to the passage.
"You were not reminded of something?" No, Don Clemente had thought that Benedetto's intense emotion had been caused by his humility. Now he understood that he should have recalled something; but what? "Ah!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Was it perhaps your vision?" Yes, surely.
I did not wish to say so before, because the Marchesa is not the person to tell such things to, but there is much trouble brewing. Benedetto's every step has been watched; Professor Mayda's daughter-in-law has been made use of, through the confessional, to obtain information concerning his language, and they have found out about the meetings.
There is always the possibility that at sight or thought of her Benedetto may be swept back from his ascetic vows to the life of passion. Their first meeting in the monastery chapel is a masterpiece of dramatic climax, and Benedetto's temptation in her carriage, after the feverish interview with the cabinet officer, is a marvel of psychological subtlety.
The head officer whispered a few words to the jailer, and immediately afterward Benedetto and Anselmo were ushered into the presence of the visitors. "They take me along too because they can't help it," said Anselmo wickedly, pointing to the chain which bound them. The jailer nodded, and the ex-priest whispered in Benedetto's ear: "Commit no follies.
Benedetto sprang forward, his hands clenched in his hair, exclaiming: "What are you doing again? What are you doing again?" A shout rang out from above: "La miracolata! The girl who is healed!" The girl who had felt health returning to her, as she lay on Benedetto's bed, was coming down in search of him, leaning on the arm of an elder sister.
But the lunge did not reach Benedetto's heart, but that of the young girl! At the same moment a shot rang through the hall, and Jane and Spero sank lifeless to the floor. How had this horrible thing happened? At the moment Benedetto saw Spero's sword turned toward his heart, he seized the pistol the vicomte had carelessly laid aside, and fired at his opponent. Jane saw the wretch seize the pistol.
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