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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Will you have the kindness to tell me," he asked, of the shop-keeper, "where I shall find the hôtel of a rich banker about here? Laisangy, I think, is the name." "Almost opposite where all those carriages stand." "Ah! thanks!" And as the soldier turned round he saw Coucon. The recognition was mutual, and the two former companions fell into each other's arms. "Galaret!" cried Coucon. "Yes.
"Yes," said Carmen, "repeat, to prove that you understand." After repeated experiments it was found that communication was easy, and Carmen spelled out: "There is an iron door under the silk." "I knew it!" Coucon exclaimed, "I had began to tear it off when you came." They pulled off the silk, and suddenly Coucon exclaimed: "Here is the door!"
The man, in some confusion, replied that he did not see him go out. "You were absent from your post, then?" "No, sir, I was not. I was not away for one moment yesterday." "And you saw every one who came in and went out?" "Yes, sir. The Vicomte did go out, but he came in again." "Came in!" cried Madame and Coucon, together.
"Oh! such a dreadful thing has happened to Monte-Cristo's son!" "To the Vicomte!" cried Fanfar, leaping from his chair. He seized Bobichel's arm rather roughly, and shaking it, cried, "Will you speak?" "Yes, master, but I don't know how to tell you that the Vicomte has gone away." "Gone away, and what of that?" "But he has disappeared!" "Who says so?" "Old Madame Caraman and Coucon."
It was of no use to argue, the Zouave had made up his mind, and he ripped off the silk as if it had been old cotton. Madame, fired by his example, went to work also. While they were thus frantically busy, the door-bell rang. "It is Miss Carmen," cried Coucon. "She may be able to tell us something." He hastened to the door. It was Carmen, as he had supposed.
Well, as I was saying, he was asked to this soirée at the banker's and had to write a refusal. As he lies on his sofa, and is likely to lie there for some little time, this note I must deliver." Coucon did not seem to hear what his friend was saying, but suddenly exclaimed to an innocent looking bourgeois, at another table: "What are you staring at?"
The door of the room was thrown open, and a man entered. This man was Benedetto. Having played his little comedy with consummate skill, Coucon hastened to the carriage he had kept waiting, and drove to the Hôtel de Monte-Cristo.
She opened the door, and both uttered a cry on finding the chamber empty. The iron panel had closed, and no one would have suspected its existence. Coucon could not believe his eyes. He ran through every room, but those they sought had vanished. They had not gone out of the hôtel, for Madame had guarded it. "Well!" cried Coucon, "vanished like Miss Jane, like the Vicomte Esperance!" Hark!
"We shall be forgiven if we make mistakes," said Coucon. "We can do only our best." And Coucon began to tear up the carpet, and then to sound the boards. "Above," he said, looking up, "are the bath rooms, and I think we had best begin by pulling down the hangings on the wall." "Oh! that is wicked!"
In Jane's room they held a consultation. Carmen communicated what she had heard, and showed the note she had taken from Laisangy. "But where is the place he speaks of?" asked Fanfar. "I can show you," she said, quietly. Coucon ran to the stables, and in ten minutes the carriage stood at the door. "Heaven grant that we arrive in time!" said Fanfar. Alas! it was a vain hope.
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