The Son of Monte-Cristo
Chapter 40 : "Special order from the marshal," replied the corporal."Which reached yo

"Special order from the marshal," replied the corporal.

"Which reached you?" asked the sergeant, distrustfully.

"Yes; do not consider any longer!" thundered Bartolomeo, coming forward: "I have brought the order myself."

The sergeant saw the Austrian uniform; he disappeared hurriedly, and Bartolomeo called after him:

"G.o.d help you if the flag is not hoisted before two minutes have pa.s.sed."

Suddenly the firing ceased, a loud noise was heard. The Italians saluted the white flag--the signal of peace.

In the barracks itself loud curses were heard--Count San Pietro had discovered that the white flag had been hoisted, and was heaping insults upon the officers. No one admitted having given the order. Benedetto, though, did not look kindly upon the proposition of an old colonel to have the flag removed. With a diabolical smile he said:

"If the patriots have any confidence in the flag then it's their own fault. Follow my commands punctually, and I will forget your stupidity."

A few minutes later a terrible crash was heard, followed by a loud cry.

From all the windows the bullets flew; the cannons threw death and destruction into the ranks of the trusting patriots.

The confusion only lasted a moment.

"Surround the rat-hole! Not a single one must escape--down with the poliziotti!" exclaimed the Italians, wildly.

In firm columns they advanced against the barracks, and then they paused. Suppose treachery was in store for them?

The patriots now retreated to the right and left, to make room for two persons: a white-haired old man and a handsome dark-featured boy. The old man turned to the Italians, and said in a loud voice:

"Friends and brothers! The barracks of San Francisco, San Vittore and the military hospital are in our possession. Radetzky's palace has been stormed, and the marshal's baton has fallen into the hands of the conquerors. Forward, with G.o.d! We two, an old man and a weak child, will show you the way!"

Proudly erect, the old man strode toward the door, and Spero walked hurriedly behind him, and a fanatical, enthusiastic crowd followed.

On the threshold stood an Austrian officer. He lifted his gun, and triumphantly exclaimed:

"Ha, Monte-Cristo--to-day I shall strike you through the heart! Curses on you and your race!"

The gun directed against Spero's breast went off. When the smoke had cleared away, the boy stood there unharmed, while a man tumbled down at his feet. It was Bartolomeo! Taking advantage of the confusion, he ran away and came just in the nick of time to receive Benedetto's murderous bullet in his breast.

A quarter of an hour later Aslitta appeared accompanied by Monte-Cristo and La Luciola. He was still pale and exhausted, but he swung his sword and joyfully exclaimed: "Radetzky has fled. The citadel has surrendered."

The Italians embraced each other. Their dream was realized. Milan was free.

"Papa," whispered Spero, "come with me. There is a man lying over there who sacrificed himself for me."

Monte-Cris...o...b..nt over the major, whose pale face lighted up joyfully when he saw the count.

"Let me see the wound," said Monte-Cristo. "Who knows but--"

"Unnecessary," whispered Bartolomeo; "my adopted son understands--how--to--aim!"

"Ha! then it was Benedetto!" exclaimed the count.

"His bullet was intended for me," said Spero. "He said he wished to strike you through the heart."

"The monster!" said Monte-Cristo, and turning to Bartolomeo, he added: "and how shall I thank you?"

"Ah!--that--does good," stammered Bartolomeo. "Count--care for--Aurora.

Ah!--I am dying. Your hand--farewell--child. Italy--is--free!"

The major stretched himself out and his eyes became gla.s.sy.

Spero sobbed bitterly, and the count whispered:

"May the earth be light to you. If you have sinned, your love for your country has made atonement!"

One hour later the count, Haydee and Spero bade adieu to Aslitta and Luciola in the Cafe Vidiserti.

"Farewell, marquis," said the count, throwing a knowing glance at Aslitta, who held the diva in his arms.

Aslitta nodded.

"To-day Luciola will be my bride," he gently said.

"Why do you wish to leave us?" exclaimed Luciola, sobbing.

"Because others need me. Come, Haydee, Mercedes is waiting."

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

SERGEANT COUCOU

Ten years had pa.s.sed since Mercedes had bade her only son good-by. She lived in the small house in the Allee de Meillan at Ma.r.s.eilles, which formerly belonged to old Dantes, and though her face was pale and her eyes no longer sparkled as of yore, the widow of General de Morcerf was still a wonderfully handsome woman. Mercedes was standing at the window, gazing out upon the sea. Behind her stood a man in the uniform of a Zouave. Small, brown and thin, he looked like the type of what a Zouave is generally thought to be.

What the Zouave's name was no one exactly knew. He had many sobriquets, the most popular of which was "Sergeant Coucou," so that after a while he was never called otherwise.

The sergeant's cradle, in spite of his brown skin, had not stood in Africa, but in the Faubourg Merceau in Paris.

Coucou was the son of a poor washerwoman. His first studies were made on the curbstone and in the gutter, and pretty soon he became the toughest boy in the neighborhood. His mother decided the time had come for her son to enter the army. Coucou did not hesitate long; only he made it a condition that he be allowed to enter an African regiment. The mother was satisfied. A regiment which bore the trusting name, the "Jackals,"

was just on the point of sailing to Algiers, and so Coucou became a Jackal.

When the time for saying good-by came, the mother began to weep, but Coucou consoled her.

"You see, mamma," he said, confidently, "I will make a name for myself, and when you read about my heroic deeds in the papers, you will be proud of me."

The mother laughed between her sobs. The few pennies she had saved she used to buy a pair of spectacles to read the forthcoming chronicles; for she was one of that cla.s.s of innocent people who believe that the faculty of reading rests in spectacles.