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The Count turned and pursued him, snatching a dagger from a table as he ran. At the door leading to the lawn, he grasped him firmly by the shoulder and held him. "Murderer!" he shouted, "whose blood is that upon your knife?" "The blood of Haydée, the Greek slave!" hissed Benedetto, with a glare of ferocious triumph, "the blood of Haydée, your wife! Edmond Dantès, I am even with you!"
He trembled with rage, as he washed Benedetto's wound, but he did not dare to say a word. Haydee had in the meantime loosened a cord from the package and discovered a small oaken box, which she tried in vain to open. The count noticed it, and after he had carefully examined the lock, he murmured: "I will try to open it with my key." He really succeeded in doing it.
At first Dantes, who now called himself the Count of Monte-Cristo, wanted to kill Fernand's son, Albert de Morcerf, but he spared the young man for Mercedes' sake. He looked up Mondego's past history. The latter had risen to power through crime and treachery. He had betrayed Ali Tebelen, Pasha of Yanina, and sold the latter's wife Vassiliki and daughter Haydee into slavery.
"Oh, how I love you, my friend, my husband," she whispered in the same tone. "Did the storm frighten you, Haydee?" asked the man anxiously. "I am never frightened when you are near me," the pretty Greek laughingly replied; "you ought to know me better." "Nature, Haydee, is sometimes stronger than the will of man."
Jacopo points toward the yacht; they see us and are waving their handkerchiefs in token of adieu." Haydée raised her head and glanced in the direction of the Isle of Monte-Cristo. "I see them, my lord," she replied, in a joyous tone; "they are happy." "Yes," said the Count, "they are happy, but they deserve their happiness, and all is well."
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!"
True, Espérance will remain, but, generous, manly and heroic as he is, he can never fill the void Zuleika will leave. Oh! Haydée, Haydée, my beloved wife, why were you torn so ruthlessly from your husband's heart!" Zuleika's dreams that night were rose-hued and delicious, and in all of them the central figure was the youthful Roman Viscount. When day dawned M. Dantès was still pacing his library.
"No, mamma," said the boy, holding his head proudly erect. "I could not remain behind. I knew papa was in danger, and, taking a pistol that I had seen Ali load this morning from the cabinet of fire-arms, I followed the servants, arriving at the almond grove just in time." Haydée ran to her son, and, taking him in her arms, pressed him fondly to her heart, kissing him again and again. "Oh!
"What was that shock?" demanded the Count, hurriedly. The agitated Nubian made a sign signifying he did not know, but that all was yet safe. "Remain with your mistress, Ali," said Monte-Cristo. "I am going to see what is the matter." "Oh! no, no," cried Haydée, imploringly, as the Count placed her again on the divan and was moving away. "Oh! no, no; do not leave me, my lord, or I shall die!"
The Count glanced admiringly at the little lad, who stood with dilated nostrils and eyes flashing fire; then, turning to Haydée, he said in an impressive tone: "My beloved wife, Espérance is but an infant, and it may be years ere Europe shall awake from her lethargy and strive to overturn the thrones of her despots; before that period, the period of revolution and bloodshed, our son may change his opinions and cease to be the ardent Republican he is now."
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