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Updated: June 22, 2025
Coucon started off. To go to the hôtel and ask for Miss Carmen was simple enough, but he took it into his head that it would be better if no one knew that he was there. He thought he would examine the premises before he decided on his course of action. When he reached the hôtel, to his great surprise he found the doors wide open and the courtyard blazing with lights.
While Goutran was thus impatiently questioning the man, a carriage stopped, from which descended Fanfar, Sanselme, Coucon and Madame Caraman. "Ah! Monsieur Goutran!" exclaimed Fanfar, "I have just been to your rooms, and am thankful to meet you here. I am anxious to consult with you." "You know, then, what is going on?" cried Goutran.
Coucon and Fanfar, who had been attentively examining the stain, simultaneously answered: "It is blood." "My God!" cried Monte-Cristo, with a convulsive start, "then they have slain my son!" "Not so, Count," said Captain Joliette. "Had they slain Esperance they would have left his body here.
"It is nothing of the kind," answered Coucon, impatiently. "Where is Monsieur Goutran?" "I have not seen the gentlemen since you went out." "Then they must be in Miss Jane's room still?" "I suppose so." "We will go there at once, then." But the Zouave was interrupted by a strange sound like that made by a heavy hammer at some distance. Madame turned pale.
Remember I am a father, and have a father's duty to perform. I will lead the pursuit." Captain Joliette bowed. "So be it," said he, "it is your right." Coucon, Fanfar, Gratillet and Iron Jaws eagerly offered their services, and even Bobichel forgot his merry pranks and demanded to accompany the expedition.
And now let us have a glass." "Can't stop, have a commission to perform!" Nevertheless, Coucon did stop to drink a little, and to gossip. "When did you come to Paris?" he asked. "This very day, in the escort of Mohammed-Ben-Omar, a sort of Pasha, you know, and to-night he slipped on the stairs and wrenched his ankle. Take another glass, friend.
Monte-Cristo hastened to his son's apartment, followed by Fanfar, Captain Joliette and Coucon, the Zouave. The boy was still sleeping soundly, and the apartment was altogether undisturbed. Monte-Cristo uttered a sigh of relief; he bent over the beautiful child and gently kissed him on the forehead. The party returned to the adjoining room and resumed their seats.
"There won't be a corner in which I shall not put my nose, be sure of that!" cried Coucon. "Oh! if the Count were only here!" sighed Madame. Fanfar was alone with Bobichel and Goutran. "Have you anything to suggest?" he said, suddenly turning to Goutran. "Do you know of any secret egress from this hôtel?" "None whatever," answered the artist.
In vain did the man stammer that he was not even looking at them. One word led to another until a hot quarrel was in progress, the police were called in, and Galaret was arrested. "Give me your note," said Coucon, in the most obliging manner, "I will see that it is delivered." And he dashed out of the shop with suspicious alacrity.
"My friends," she said, "where is Goutran?" "I do not know," was the reply. "I will tell you, then. He, with Monsieur Fanfar are prisoners in this house." "What did I tell you!" shouted Coucon. "And now, listen the noise has begun again." Seizing the hammer, Coucon struck three hard blows on the walls at regular intervals. He waited and listened. Three blows answered him.
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