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Updated: June 21, 2025
My readers have not forgotten the romantic episode that followed Jane's suicide. How happened it that our old friends Fanfar and Bobichel were near and able to save the life of Sanselme? It is a very simple matter. Monte-Cristo had said to Fanfar, "I trust my son to you. You love me, love him, also. Be to him what you have been to me."
The persistent questions of Schwann made her very uneasy. Caillette said the same thing. She hardly knew what had happened; she only knew that her father had been injured. Bobichel came in. "The chain has been examined," he said, looking in La Roulante's face. "What of that!" she cried. "Why do you meddle in what does not concern you? Do you mean to say that any one meddled with the chain?"
"We must reach Paris as soon as possible," said Fanfaro. "Shall we wake the landlord?" "Not for any money," said Girdel; "we would only bring him into trouble." "You are right," replied Fanfaro; "we must not open the house door either, we must go by way of the window." "That won't be very difficult for such veterans as we are," laughed Girdel. "Bobichel, get down at once and saddle the horses.
Without asking another question, Girdel hurried out, while Bobichel looked observantly around the room, and soon found a well-filled bottle of wine and a glass; he filled the glass and emptied it with one swallow. In the meantime Girdel had met Irene de Salves in the corridor of the house.
"I hope he will get to the inn in safety," said Fanfar, anxiously. "I must get back on foot, it seems!" Gudel had been carried to his room, the innkeeper moaning over and over again, "How could this have happened?" La Roulante established herself by the sick bed. She was livid with fear. The attempt had been a failure, and Bobichel had guessed it!
Francine took her brother's letter and read it slowly, but when she came to the words "little Jacques" and "Cinette," her eyes closed, and she would have fallen had not Bobichel caught her. "You must not cry like that!" he said. "You must not weep. We will save Fanfar! Please, Mademoiselle Irène, read the letter Iron Jaws sends you. He has an idea, and he knows what he is about.
"What, my little Caillette is weeping!" he muttered, half-laughing. "Child, you probably thought I was dead?" "Oh, God be praised and thanked!" cried Caillette, springing up and falling upon her father's neck. Bobichel almost sprung to the ceiling, and Schwan, between laughing and crying, exclaimed: "What a fright you gave us, old boy.
Upon his call his wife appeared, a charming brunette about thirty years of age. "Madame Fanfaro," said the colonist, "followed me to the desert." "This is Firejaws, the king of athletes. And now it is the turn of Bobichel, the clown." "It looks to me like a fairy tale," said the count. "Were you really a tight-rope walker and acrobat before?"
He handed La Roulante the stones which were to form her apparent nutriment. He whispered a new witticism to Bobichel, and gave Robeccal some advice as to the manner in which he should hold his sword. Then he took a position where he could see without being seen. "Now, Fanfar," said Iron Jaws, "it is your turn! Look out for Caillette!"
"I will light the gentlemen," continued the voice. "Bobichel, is it you?" cried Fanfaro, joyously. "Certainly, and I ought to know you," was the reply; "really, the master and Fanfaro." "Bobichel," said Girdel, greatly astonished, "is it really you? We thought you were dead!" "Bah! a clown can stand a scratch; but come quickly into my room, it is cold outside."
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