The Son of Monte-Cristo

by Jules Lermina

  CHAPTER XL.

  BETWEEN CHARYBDIS AND SCYLLA.

  The situation was indeed a terrible one. Bobichel's words were true.

  When Fanfar fell as if dead, it was supposed that it was an attack ofapoplexy, and some good people ventured to call it a judgment fromheaven for his crimes. Others again spoke of poison, and arraigned thegovernor of the prison for carelessness. There was one physician amongthose who were called in who could not agree with the others. He used anumber of scientific expressions, but the fact remained the same--Fanfarwas dead. But there was so much discussion that a post-mortemexamination was deemed essential. The body, therefore, was carried on alitter to the hospital, where he was examined by a crowd of curiousmedical students, who declared that he was so splendidly developed thathe ought to have lived to be a hundred years old.

  A messenger was sent to Dr. Albant, and the dissecting table wasprepared.

  This time the plan of the heroes of the right had failed. Fanfar wasalive, but he would certainly be killed now, as his torpidity was sogreat that he would not utter a cry or a groan until the instrumentstouched some vital organ.

  The door opened and Dr. Albant, a handsome old man, entered with smilesand nods. He removed his coat and tied on a large apron. Trying the edgeof his scalpel on his nail, he turned to the students and physicians,and began to talk of the German method of conducting a post mortem.

  "We French, however, begin here," he said, lightly placing his scalpelon the tender flesh.

  "Dr. Albant!" cried a stentorian voice.

  The surgeon turned. A messenger in the king's livery stood in thedoorway.

  "Gentlemen, excuse me--the king communicates with me!"

  A close observer would have thought it singular that the king shouldsend a letter by an ordinary servant, like a simple bourgeois. But thisdid not seem to strike Dr. Albant, who, with a face beaming with smiles,turned to the students, saying:

  "Excuse me, gentlemen, but the king demands my presence."

  "But the autopsy?"

  "Oh! that may be given up. This man died from cerebral congestion--I seeit as plain as day!"

  As he spoke he tore off his apron, and got himself into his coat againwith all possible speed.

  "Bury the man at once!" he said as he left the room. A carriage awaitedhim at the door, and he drove off.

  The royal messenger waited a moment and then he, too, walked away, andgoing down a narrow alley he entered a little wineshop by a back door,and throwing himself on a bench, exclaimed:

  "I was just in time, Bobichel. A second later and Fanfar would have beenno more!"

  The hospital was now anxious to get rid of this useless body, and orderswere given that it should be buried without delay. Gudel and his friendshad bribed the functionaries.

  All went smoothly, and in an hour the hearse was to take Fanfar away.But before this, a card was brought in to the governor of the hospital.On this card was the name of the Marquis de Fongereues, and in thecorner of the glossy bit of pasteboard was a tiny sign, which signifiedthat his visitor was especially recommended by the Society of which hewas a member. He gave orders that the Marquis should be shown in atonce.

  Fongereues appeared, leaning on the arm of Pierre Labarre. The Marquishad suddenly grown old, his strength was gone, and his feet were asuncertain as those of a drunken man.

  The governor rose to receive him. Fongereues tried to speak, but hisvoice died in his throat. He handed the governor an order from theminister, directing that the body of the man named Fanfar should besurrendered to the Marquis de Fongereues.

  Our readers will notice that the promised million had already bornefruit in the granting of the first request made by the Marquis, who hadlaid aside his ambition and thought only of recovering the body of hisson in return for the million.

  "Can I see the body?" asked the Marquis.

  The governor bowed assent and led him to the room where Fanfar stilllay. Fongereues looked down on the noble features and manly form. Howentirely they differed from those of the son for whom the Marquis hadsacrificed everything. The Marquis knelt in silence for some minutes,while Labarre shed bitter tears.

  "What does the Marquis propose to do?" asked the governor, who did notunderstand this scene, and was becoming impatient.

  Labarre said, in a low voice, "The men will come up with a bier."

  In a few minutes Fanfar's body was carried to the Hotel de Fongereuesand laid by the side of the Vicomte.

  Labarre made no attempt to resist this caprice of the Marquis. The oldservant, now that De Fongereues showed such humility and grief, hadbecome his devoted servant.

  The Marquis asked for his wife, and was told that she had left the hotelalone and on foot.

  "Pierre," said the Marquis, "I must say a few words to you. With theexception of this million I have required at your hands, the fortunewhich should have been Simon's must be given to his daughter. Tell herthe whole truth; it is only just. Watch over this girl, proclaim herright to the name and property of our house. When I am dead do not layme in French soil--I am not worthy of France--but place me where I amunknown and unheard of. You will obey these wishes?"

  Labarre answered, solemnly, "I will obey them."

  "Very good; we will start to-night for the chateau, and there side byside we will bury the two sons whom I have murdered."

  While Fongereues, crushed under the weight of his remorse, was thusannouncing his last wishes, another scene was taking place in thehospital. Gudel and Bobichel had applied for Fanfar's body.

  "Too late!" answered the concierge. And the two men heard withconsternation that Fanfar had been taken away. And where? No one knew.

  Delay was inevitable. Gudel and the former clown went out into thestreet and there abandoned themselves to their distress.