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Updated: June 5, 2025
One of them drew a long-bladed knife and was about to stab the prostrate and unconscious boy, but the Sultan restrained him with an impatient gesture. "Not here," said he. "The sacrifice can only be made in the mosque of the Khouans, thrice dedicated to Mohammed and reserved for the holiest rite of Islam, the rite of vengeance!"
Over him stood Maldar, his yataghan uplifted to strike. The four Khouans stood at a short distance, chanting what was evidently a death-hymn. Instantly Monte-Cristo aimed his weapon at the Sultan and fired. Maldar fell dead beside his intended victim. The other Arabs leaped through the open windows and, mounting their horses, fled across the desert. Monte-Cristo caught his son in his arms.
"Forward to Uargla!" Monte-Cristo had exclaimed when he became aware of the loss of his son. Medje urged her horse close to that of the count; he noticed her, and a dark suspicion took possession of him. "Go back, you traitress!" he angrily exclaimed. "You have delivered my son over to the Khouans."
Reaching an oasis, the captives were tied to the trunks of trees, and their limbs hacked off by the murderous Khouans with their yataghans. My mother was one of those tortured to death in this way. Her last words were: 'Medje, avenge us, and remember your father's oath. I swooned as she died. I was recalled to life by sharp pain on my cheeks.
The party started off again, following the track of the Arabs' horses, and after an hour's ride came in sight of a long, low building with a gleaming minaret, standing alone in the midst of the desert. "The mosque of the Khouans!" cried Captain Joliette, triumphantly. "Maldar and his ruffians are there! Look! Yonder are their horses!"
Smarting with pain and foaming with rage, he threw himself upon the daring boy, tore the yataghan from his grasp, and with its heavy handle struck him a blow on the head that stretched him senseless at his feet. The noise of the conflict awoke the Khouans, who sprang up and rushed to their chief.
We lived very happy and peaceful after that, only we were called renegades by the other tribes, and especially the Khouans, that murderous class which believes that it pleases Allah if they shed their fellow beings' blood. "Five years had elapsed, and I was then twelve years old, when my father gave a great feast in honor of a celebrated French commander who visited our settlement.
"And on this dagger a piece of parchment is fastened." Monte-Cristo carefully unrolled the scrap of paper and read the following, written with blood, in Arabian characters: "Maldar to Monte-Cristo. The poor man who trusts in Allah is richer than the nobleman who fights against him. Beware of the Khouans!" "Who are the Khouans, papa?" "I shall tell you later on there is no time to lose now. Come!"
Suddenly, at midnight, when the festivities were over, and we were all lying in a deep sleep, the Khouans made an attack on our village. My father was assassinated and my mother and I taken prisoners. We were carried into the desert with other prisoners of my tribe.
If he could mount one of the Khouans' horses and escape from the hands of his fanatical foes, he might meet them. Esperance stole cautiously toward an Arab courser, but he had not taken a dozen steps when Maldar awoke, leaped to his feet, ran to him and laid an iron hand upon his shoulder.
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