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Updated: June 21, 2025
"My father was a soldier of the Republic. I myself was condemned to death in 1815. My father gave his life for France, and I lived through accident. It was about that time that little Fanfar fell into my hands, and I have always taught him to feel the greatest respect for the Revolution.
She sold a small gold locket, which held a bit of ribbon from a sash Fanfar had once given her. She kept the ribbon, and received several crowns for the locket. She walked all day, finally certain that Françoise was not far in advance. It was not until the morning of the second day that the girl was rewarded by seeing Françoise at the door of an inn. Caillette rushed forward. "Mother!" she cried.
"I have one, Bobichel!" "And I have another, Monsieur Fanfar." With their burthens our old friends reached the shore. "God grant that it is not too late!" said Fanfar, kneeling by the side of the two inanimate forms. "What had we best do?" "Take them up on our shoulders, sir, and carry them along. Fortunately, the house is not far off."
They wish to reach the next house. We shall have them! we shall have them!" Gudel and Fanfar had gone as far as they could. They found they must turn. Fanfar stopped short and seemed to be doing something to a chimney. "Surrender!" shouted the Commissioner, some distance off. "Surrender!" repeated Cyprien.
Fanfar passed his hand over his troubled brow. "My dear old friend," he said, "take pity on me, and tell me all you know; do not compel me to ask so many questions." "Well, then, listen. You as well as I, became a little anxious because we had heard nothing of Monsieur Esperance for so long.
The shock Francine had experienced was terrible; she hardly knew what had taken place whether she deliberately threw herself into the water, or whether faint and dizzy, she fell in; when Fanfar leaped to her rescue she clung to him convulsively.
When the latter beheld Arthur de Montferrand she started, while Irène impulsively pronounced his name. They all entered the cottage, and looked around the room anxiously. The same name was on every lip. Fanfar, where was he? The night after Fanfar had been carried to the hôtel Fongereues, a mysterious note had been sent to Irène, to Francine, and Caillette.
I will summon the Count of Monte-Cristo, as it was agreed I should do in case of danger. He will be here in three days, and we must be able to say to him that we have saved his son." "Yes, we must say that," cried the Zouave, "or Coucon will be dead." "To work then," said Fanfar, rising. "Sanselme, come into my cabinet, there are several questions I wish to ask. But first, who is this woman?"
No; there were no smiles on his lips, no quips and cranks on his tongue. His thinness had become emaciation. Irène went forward. "You come from him?" she said, hastily. "From Fanfar? Oh! no not directly, at least. They won't let me see him, you know." "Who sends you here, then?" "Gudel Iron Jaws, you know." "Why did he not come himself?" "Ah! that I can't say. Gudel bade me give this note to you."
"Yes," answered Montferrand, "but scoundrels who bear the best names in France one is the Vicomte de Talizac, son of the Marquis de Fongereues." A young man suddenly appeared on the stairs. "Who speaks of Talizac and de Fongereues?" he asked. "Ah! Monsieur Fanfar! heaven has sent you to my assistance. My establishment is ruined, but that is nothing to the ruin of this poor girl!"
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