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I have something better than that," said Bobichel, and dashing to the inn he returned with a bottle of brandy. "Two drops of this," he said, "will do more than all the salts in the world." Fanfar administered a few drops to Gudel, who presently uttered a long sigh. "Living!" cried Fanfar. "Heaven be praised!" shouted Bobichel. Then, turning swiftly toward La Roulante, he added,
"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.
"I saw this man at the door where we stood to-night," said Bobichel. "Yes, I saw him, too," answered Fanfar. "But who can this woman be?" She was an old woman, with white hair. "We must all go to work. Madame Fanfar, we want your help; hot linen and flannels, if you please!" Very stately and magnificent were the offices of the Banque de Credit Imperial. The prospectus made one's mouth water.
In an instant he returned. His face had the pallor of wax. Monte-Cristo leaped nervously to his feet and stood staring at him, his countenance wearing an expression of intense anguish. "Well?" said he, in an unsteady voice. Fanfar was breathless with excitement and terror. When he could find words, he said: "The lad is gone!"
The clown looked after him, and then began to pound his own head until tears came to his eyes. "Idiot! Fool!" he muttered. "Will you never learn any sense. Why did you let that rascal see your game? You must warn Fanfar without delay." And as he saw some boys looking at him, they thinking that his despair heightened his comic appearance, he began to run toward the inn. Gudel met him at the door.
Cyprien waited for his master, who seized him by the arm and dragged him into the room where they had talked together in the morning. "Cyprien," he whispered, fiercely, "hell has come to our aid; this young man who saved my life, this Fanfar " "Well?" "Is the son of Simon Fougère the son of my brother!"
Finally the measured beat of oars was heard, the prow of a boat struck against the pebbly beach, and shadows were seen coming toward the cottage. The door opened. Irène and Caillette burst into tears. Francine cried, "Fanfar! my brother!" "Zounds!" cried Gudel, "it was not such an easy matter getting here." Fanfar sank on his knees before Françoise. "My poor mother!" he exclaimed.
I did not believe it myself, at first, and as I felt sure you would doubt the story, I took the liberty of bringing the witnesses with me. Caraman and Coucon are here, sir." "Oh! Bobichel, why could you not have said this before? Let me see them at once, and I swear that I will get at the truth!" Fanfar, in addition to his impatience, felt a certain remorse.
"No, but Monsieur Goutran does." "I will go to him immediately." "Oh! we have been there, and he has gone away for the day. Here is a little bag which we found in the young lady's room, and it may tell you something." And Madame, as she spoke, handed Fanfar one of those little morocco bags so much in vogue to be hung at the belt. Fanfar opened the bag, and found a letter without address.
Instead of poison, Fanfar took a narcotic, and lies as if dead. He will be buried, of course, but we will look out for that, and he will be taken care of." The shock to Irène was so great that she burst into passionate weeping. Gudel was doing his best to soothe her, when suddenly the door was thrown open and Bobichel rushed in, all pale and dishevelled. "Oh! master," he cried, "all is lost!
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