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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Benedetto's trial," answered the reporter, musingly: "ah, yes, now I know the murder in Monte-Cristo's garden, and, if my memory is right, I believe the murderer pretends that he is the son of the procureur du roi, Monsieur de Villefort." "Perfectly right; you have an enviable memory," laughingly said Beauchamp. "Well, does the trial take place?" "Certainly, it's the third day of the case."
The miscreants mounted it and, guided by Bouche-de-Miel, who seemed to be thoroughly familiar with the topography of the mansion, were soon in front of Monte-Cristo's study. The door was ajar. Bouche-de-Miel glanced in, but instantly withdrew his head, motioning Waldmann and Siebecker to look.
A sudden thought darted through Monte-Cristo's brain. He rushed back to his tent. The couch was empty Spero was not there! The terrible truth burst on his mind. The attack had been only feigned. The bandits had stolen his boy! The strong man wept; but, as a hot tear fell on his hand, he shook his head like a lion aroused from his sleep, and shouted: "To horse! To horse! To Uargla!"
The count did so and staggered back, for the sight he saw confirmed the poor girl's words; four men, with uncovered heads, carried a bier on which lay a motionless body. It was the Marquis Aslitta, and Monte-Cristo's heart swelled as he recognized him. "How could this calamity have happened?" whispered Spero, clinging anxiously to Luciola.
"Call the other witnesses," said the judge; "we shall attend to Monsieur de Monte-Cristo's case later on." The other witnesses, mainly people who had come to Caderousse's assistance when he had called for help, were not slow in coming forward. Their testimony was short and precise. They confirmed the fact of Caderousse's being found with a knife in his heart.
In Monte-Cristo's carriage, attended only by a timid femme de chambre, she was one day crossing one of the two bridges leading to the Island of San Bartolomeo, when a trace broke and the horses took fright. The terrified driver lost control of them, and the mad animals dashed along at a fearful rate, almost overturning the carriage.
From the first Monte-Cristo's daughter was attracted towards her, and it required very little effort on Mme. Morrel's part to win her completely.
Finally his eyes rested on the Count, when his countenance instantly lighted up; he instinctively felt that Monte-Cristo's mysterious influence had been fully as potent with the authorities of Paris as with Luigi Vampa and his band, that the wonderful man had succeeded in effecting the liberation of himself and Beppo.
Unconsciously she approached the lofty wall of the garden. She seated herself at the foot of a gnarled old elm, the leafy branches of which descended to the ground and effectually screened Monte-Cristo's daughter from view. At least, so she thought, but though she could not be seen by any within the garden enclosure she was plainly visible from the wall and the trees looming above it without.
"The whole of the Count of Monte-Cristo's affection is centred in his son, and through this son we must strike him. He shall suffer all the tortures of hell, and in his son, whom he idolizes, we shall punish him." "Now I understand you," said Danglars. "In the first place, you must give me money, and then wait until I call you." "And you guarantee that the grief will kill him?"
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