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"And here is my hand!" added Arthur. "And now," said Fanfar, after a vigorous exchange of handshaking, "and now we have not a moment to lose!" There was another disturbance below. A great noise, and a voice shouting, "Open! in the name of the law!" Fanfar started. "At last!" cried Aubé. "It is the police; probably by this time the men are arrested."
Yes, it is he!" And then, shuddering from head to foot, she repeated, "Benedetto! Who speaks of Benedetto?" "What does all this mean?" asked Fanfar. "I will tell you," said Sanselme, averting his eyes. "Yes, it is true, I am an escaped convict. This woman is right, but I never did her any harm. Look at me, woman! Tell me, was it I who struck you?"
"It was his lacquey, or his father's, who denounced us to-night!" "This is not all. The truth is, Gudel you will probably think me mad but I am convinced that the girl who was carried off the one called Cinette " "You mean that you believe her to be your " "I can't reason," interrupted Fanfar. "It is the name of my little sister, and the conviction is unalterable that this girl is my sister.
Gudel followed him without a question. Suddenly Gudel stumbled. Fanfar caught him, but it was too late. There was a crash of broken glass. Gudel had broken one of those small windows in the roof which landlords consider sufficient for tenants who pay only sixty francs per annum for their attics.
"Then, some day if I need you for the protection of my son, and send for you," said Monte-Cristo, "you will come?" "I swear that I will." And Fanfar laid his hand on the boy's head. "We will all swear!" cried Iron Jaws. "The son of Monte-Cristo is sacred to us. Who ever touches a hair of his head shall suffer." We have now to learn how Fanfar and his friends kept this promise.
"When you mention the name of this Fanfar, you have tears in your eyes." Irène buried her face on her friend's shoulder: "I love him!" she whispered, "and I love you as if you were my sister!" The two young girls embraced each other tenderly. "But where is he?" said Francine, disengaging herself, "I wish to see him." Irène started.
She had never been attracted by Paris, the streets and the people frightened her, but she was consoled by the thought that it would be a new world to conquer. On her return to the château, the daring words uttered by Fanfar dwelt in her memory: "Make yourself beloved."
Are you not risking your life to save that of your father?" She emphasized the word father, as if to make amends for having previously called him master. "I am always ready to die for those I love!" answered Fanfar, as he examined the animal with attention. Irène was silent for a moment.
His eyes were dim, his shoulders bowed, and his steps awakened no echo. He was dressed in black. The two men did not move nor speak. They seemed to feel that no human voice should break this awful stillness. Monte-Cristo walked to the side of the bed and looked at his son, long and steadily. What thoughts were hidden in that active brain? And now Fanfar beheld a terrible, unheard-of thing.
"Put your arms about my neck," he said, "and trust to me." The Marquis obeyed, and Fanfar, weighed down again by this burthen, climbed the path heretofore trodden only by goats. They reached the top in safety, there they found Irène's horse. "I am going to take you on the saddle with me," he said to the Marquis.
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