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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.

"How are you, my dear Spero?" he vivaciously cried. "Oh, thank you, very well. Do you know, Gontram, that you couldn't have come at a more appropriate hour?" "Really? That pleases me," said the new-comer, a painter who in spite of his youth enjoyed a great reputation. Laying his hand on Spero's shoulder, he looked steadily at him and earnestly asked: "Has anything disagreeable happened to you?"

When the painter saw Spero's disturbed features on this particular day, and heard that the count had departed, he had an idea that it would do him good. "Where did your father go to?" he asked. "I do not know," replied Spero, uneasily. "What? Your father did not inform you?" asked Gontram. "No," replied Spero; "he departed this evening and left a letter for me behind him."

The next minute the bold climber had jumped over the wall and anxiously cried: "Count of Monte-Cristo, we must first rescue the child." He took a long rope and bound it round Spero's waist. Then he let the boy gently over the parapet. "Papa," came Spero's voice from below, "I am safe." The stranger pulled the rope up anew, and said as he turned to the count: "It is your turn now." "But you?"

A frown passed over Spero's face, and he gently said: "My father is good he is much better than I am I knew it long ago." "Vicomte, I did not say that," cried the Zouave, embarrassed. "No, but you thought so, and were perfectly right, my dear Auguste; if you wish to have me for a friend, always tell the truth." "Yes, sir," replied Coucou, "and now I have a special favor to ask you, vicomte."

Finally he overtook him, and, placing his hand on the vicomte's shoulder, he urgently cried: "Spero, where are you going with this corpse?" "She is not dead," replied the vicomte, tremblingly. "She lives; she must live she dare not die!" "And who is she?" asked Gontram, as he tried to get a glimpse of the face. Yes, he recognized her now as she lay in Spero's arms. "Jane!

Clary exclaimed, in a clear, bright voice, "courage! Help is coming." "Count of Monte-Cristo," came from another voice, "thanks, in the name of my mother." Breathless, with his arm about Spero's neck, the count leaned against the wall, and he whom nothing surprised uttered an exclamation of astonishment when he looked down. A man was climbing up the smooth wall.

"Then good-by, and remember to-morrow." When the ladies rode home the governess sighed. "Oh, miss, what will Lord Ellis say?" "That my brother has now a chance to come into the inheritance," laughed Miss Clary. Haydee and Mercedes were seated in a magnificently furnished boudoir, engaged in a lively conversation. Spero's dark head lay in his mother's lap.

Jane still lay motionless in Spero's arms. The vicomte called despairingly for help, but none came. Suddenly it occurred to him that Jane's condition was due to some narcotic, and with a cry of joy he pulled a small crystal vial from his breast pocket. It contained a liquid the Abbé Faria had taught Edmond Dantes how to make. Putting the vial to Jane's lips, he poured a few drops down her throat.

The next minute he had disappeared, and, while the waves rushed over him, Fanfaro and Gontram rushed toward Spero's body, and Fanfaro sobbingly exclaimed: "Too late! Too late! Oh, poor, poor father!" Just as Benedetto had uttered the mocking words to the friends of Spero, the form of a man appeared in the doorway.