Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 22, 2025
Six o'clock had now struck. Haydee's arm clung tighter to Spero, and a tear fell upon the youth's dark locks. Monte-Cristo softly opened the door and entered. His face looked pale and careworn. Spero ran to meet his father. The count took him in his arms and softly asked: "Are you ready, my son?" "Yes, father," replied Spero, simply; "where you go, I follow."
Meanwhile the flames had spread from Haydée's chamber to the adjoining quarters of the edifice, and the entire palace seemed doomed, for to check the conflagration appeared impossible, but so happy had the Count been made by the recovery of his son and daughter, unharmed, that he gave himself no concern about the probable destruction of his magnificent property.
There the smoke had increased in volume and density, but, summoning all his resolution and endurance to his aid, he plunged through it, and finally was successful in reaching the library. Then, with the swiftness of a flash of lightning, the husband was replaced by the father, and Monte-Cristo, for the first time since Haydée's shrieks had awakened him from his dream, thought of his children.
The Viscount Giovanni Massetti had appeared in Paris. Immediately after his reckless visit to Zuleika in the convent garden and his wild interview with her there, he had gone to the Count of Monte-Cristo, avowed his love for Haydée's child and solicited her hand in marriage.
Finally, compressing his lips and holding his nostrils with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, he gave a headlong plunge, and succeeded in reaching Haydée's door; it was open, displaying a scene that caused the Count's heart to sink within him; the whole chamber was one sea of flame; fiery tongues, like so many writhing and hissing serpents, were licking and consuming the costly tapestry, the richly carved furniture and the magnificent objects of art; the curtains of the bed were blazing, and upon the couch lay the senseless form of the wife of Monte-Cristo, the pallor of her faultless countenance contrasting painfully with the ruddy glow of the devouring element.
Mercédès was lightly toying with Haydée's glossy hair that fell like a cloud about her shapely shoulders. Her eyes were beaming with affection, while those of Haydée had in them a dreamy, faraway look. "Sister," said Mercédès at last, "why are you so sad and silent?" "I know not," replied the wife of Monte-Cristo, languidly.
The flash was now repeated and was succeeded by several others of increased intensity, but as yet no thunder rolled and there was not the slightest indication of an approaching storm. Monte-Cristo took Haydée's hand and led her to the side of the yacht.
A few moments later the Count, Zuleika and Ali were safely deposited on the Haydée's deck and the gallant little vessel turned her prow towards the Italian coast. Monte-Cristo and his daughter, with Ali at a short distance from them, stood closely watching the fast disappearing island. The Count was more agitated and paler than he had yet been.
Monte-Cristo threw his arm about his handsome wife, and giving the boy a wink, he consolingly said: "Spero will be worthy of you and me. Come, Spero, say good-by and go." Spero pressed a kiss on Haydee's lips, threw his arms about his father's neck and whispered in his ear: "I will do my duty." Turning to the marquis he put his hand in that of the old man and said: "Let us go!"
He stopped short. The expression of terror in Haydee's beautiful eyes benumbed him. "What do you mean by that?" she ejaculated, pale and trembling. "You do not intend to rob me of my last consolation, do you?" "Compose yourself, Haydee. Remember the words which you uttered just now. Yes, I leave you, and take Spero with me."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking