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Updated: June 21, 2025
The Queen assured the tragedian of the admiration that she had long felt for him, for Mounet-Sully played almost every year in Brussels; but all her kindly enthusiasm was directed towards Esperance. "What a perfectly delicious voice!" she said. "How old are you?" "Seventeen, Madame." The Queen undid a bracelet from her arm.
She told how Esperance and Goutran had come in late at night, and brought with them a young girl who had been wounded by a pistol shot, and who seemed to be dying. How she herself had watched over this girl night and day. She told how, in obedience to the Vicomte, she had gone to lie down, being very weary and sleepy. "I can't say how it happened," she sighed. "I had been greatly fatigued.
A secret instinct warned Sanselme that Benedetto would wreak his vengeance on the son of his enemy, and concealed behind the curtain he had given Esperance the warning that had so startled him. Then he hurried away, aghast at what he had done. What was the young Vicomte to him? What did he care for Benedetto's hates?
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.
We are both perfectly well, too, and brave with happiness, and "a credence in our hearts, and esperance so absolutely strong, as doth outvie the attest of eyes and ears." Good-by now, dear mother. Do not be anxious.
Esperance, the son of Monte-Cristo, lay sleeping in the comfortable bed provided for him in the house of Fanfar, the French colonist, as related at the close of the preceding volume, "The Wife of Monte-Cristo."
"She is calmer now," said Madame, "and I am almost sorry that I have disturbed you." "No I am very glad you did. You must be very weary. Lie down, and I will stay here until dawn." "No I am old, I do not require much sleep, while you " Esperance sat on the foot of the bed, holding Jane's slender hands. "Do you think," he said gently, "that I can sleep while she is suffering?
Coucon departed, proud of the shake of the hand he had received, although he still rubbed his fingers to restore the circulation. Esperance was alone; his brow was thoughtful. He sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands. Suddenly he started up, and drawing aside the heavy portière over a door, entered a small, dark room that seemed to be an oratory.
The young man dropped his sister's hand and flung himself upon a divan. He was a prey to the most intense excitement. Zuleika, deeply affected to see him thus, and remembering Giovanni's mysterious behavior, together with his strange and ominous words, when she had questioned him in regard to his quarrel with Espérance, felt for a moment shaken and uncertain.
A ring at the front door bell cut short her words. They listened silently, and heard the door open, and someone come in. Then the maid entered with a card. Francois Darbois rose at once. "I will see him in the salon," he said. He handed the card to his wife and went to meet his visitor. Esperance leaned towards her mother and read with her the celebrated name, "Victorien Sardou."
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