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Updated: June 22, 2025
In Haydée's breast was a gaping wound, from which her life blood was slowly oozing in ruby drops. Rendered utterly reckless by the terrible sight, the Count madly rushed to the couch, tore his beloved Haydée from it, and, clasping her tightly against his bosom, staggered into the corridor with his precious burden.
Monte-Cristo awoke with a quick start and passed his hand across his forehead, as if dazed; then he leaped to his feet and glanced breathlessly about him. Danglars and Villefort had been only the idle coinage of his brain, but the heart-rending shriek, the mighty flash, they were, indeed, stern realities the shriek was Haydée's, and the flash was fire!
They were not an instant too soon, for as they quitted the library the tempest of fire burst into it, accompanied by torrents of smoke. The fishermen and servants, commanded by the Nubian, had made every effort to save the doomed mansion, but in vain. Monte-Cristo and his children found refuge in the hut of Alexis, to which Haydée's body was reverently borne.
The Nubian bowed low before his master and reverently kissed Haydée's hand; the servants did likewise. Then Ali handed the Count a sealed letter, making signs to the effect that he had found it tied with a cord to one of the palm trees on the lawn. Monte-Cristo opened the letter and glanced at the signature; as he did so a look of surprise and annoyance settled upon his face.
One evening as they were walking thus it was the evening of the fifteenth of October, and Crete was distant but two days' sail Monte-Cristo tenderly took Haydée's hand in his and said to her in a tone of ineffable softness: "Haydée, do you remember what you said to me on the Isle of Monte-Cristo just before we parted from Valentine and Maximilian?" "Oh! yes, my lord," was the low reply.
Haydee's beautiful face was illuminated with a halo as she took Spero's arm and led him to his father. "Be worthy of him," she whispered, with emotion. Mercedes sank sobbing at the young wife's feet, and exclaimed: "Now I shall get my son back again; I feel it." The count finished all his preparations and chose the best weapons.
The little girl, Zuleika, the daughter of Monte-Cristo, was her exact image, a reproduction of her lovely mother in miniature, a promise of rare delight for the future. The child's costume was also modeled after Haydée's, but with modifications suited to her tender years.
Ali approached the wounded man, and, taking him in his strong arms, he carried him to the bark and placed him on the floor of the same. The count then took the box and threw it near Benedetto; he then took Haydee's arm in his own and went back with her, while Ali plunged into the water up to his waist and laid hold of the bark. "Benedetto," cried the count aloud, "you have blasphemed God.
The Count of Monte-Cristo had always liked Rome because of its picturesque, mysterious antiquity, but his present mission there had nothing whatever to do with his individual tastes. He had fixed himself for a time in the Eternal City that his daughter Zuleika, Haydée's child, might finish her education at a famous convent school conducted under the auspices of the Sisterhood of the Sacred Heart.
The Count uttered a groan of despair as he saw Haydée's self-confessed murderer escape him, and staggered to his feet; the fierce conflict with Benedetto had exhausted him, and he stood for an instant panting and breathless. The shrieks had now grown fainter and the hall was full of smoke.
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