Hardly had Luciola uttered the last words, than a deep voice said:

"Eugenie Danglars, I thank you in the name of humanity! The past is forgiven!"

The diva turned affrightedly around. The Count of Monte-Cristo stood before her, leading his son by the hand.

"Oh, how grateful I am to you," said Luciola, sobbing. "You recognized me?"

"I have never lost sight of you," replied Monte-Cristo, earnestly; "and the name you bear makes me a debtor to you."

"You shame me, count—you my debtor?"

"Rest satisfied with what I have told you. I am not at liberty to reveal the sorrowful past to you. But be assured that if I have ever caused you grief, it was because I am the instrument of a higher power."

"You know something about my parents. I beseech you, do not hide anything from me," implored Luciola. "I know that my father lives, and—"

"One moment," interrupted Monte-Cristo, giving Haydee a wink.

Immediately the young woman put her hand upon the boy's shoulder and led him out.

"I know that my father is doing Stock Exchange business in Germany," continued Luciola, "but my poor mother—"

"Your mother lives too," interrupted the count, sorrowfully, "though I do not know whether you will ever see her again."

"I do not understand," stammered La Luciola.

"Listen, my child, and be strong. Have you recognized the wretch who calls himself Count San Pietro?"

"Recognized? No; he is a wretch who merits the contempt of every one."

"I thought Eugenie Danglars was shrewder than that. Of course his scar disfigures his face so much as to make it almost unrecognizable. Who was it, Eugenie, who, in former years, had the audacity to ask your hand in marriage, and then—"

"Prince Cavalcanti!" exclaimed La Luciola, horror-stricken.

"Yes, if you wish to call him thus; in reality, though, he is the escaped galley slave and murderer, Benedetto."

"But what has the wretch to do with my mother?"

"Unfortunately, more than you think; to rob your mother of her treasure, a full million, the monster plunged a dagger in her breast—"

"Oh, the miserable coward! But you told me my mother lived—"

"Yes, she lives! The murderer did not strike the heart as he had intended, and, after months of agony, the poor woman recovered."

"Thank God! But where is she? I want to go to her and throw myself at her feet. My love will make her forget her grief," exclaimed Luciola, passionately.

"That is impossible just now. Your mother had intended to enter a convent, but chance just happened to throw her in Valentine de Villefort's way. You know her?"

"Oh, certainly; Valentine, the only one whom I love to remember among all my past acquaintances."

"Well, then, Valentine is now Madame Morrel. They left France and went to India. They needed a governess for their little daughters, and so she asked Madame Danglars to take the position."

"Poor mother," muttered Luciola, sorrowfully. "How hard it must have been for her to take a dependent position."

"Madame Danglars," said the count, "accepted the offer with thanks, and she tenderly loves Valentine and her daughters."

"How long has my mother been in India?"

"About three years."

"And do you know where she is?"

"I do not know Morrel's present address, but expect a letter from him soon."

Just then the deep tones of a bell were heard, and Monte-Cristo arose.

"My child," he solemnly said, "whatever your past has been, you have expiated it a thousand times, and you deserve the love of a humane and honest man."

"Ah, you recall Aslitta to me—where is he?"

Monte-Cristo sorrowfully shook his head.

"Eugenie, the Marquis d'Aslitta was arrested two hours ago."

"Arrested. Oh, my God! That is worse than death."

"All is not lost yet."

"Where is he?"

"In the citadel."

"Count, rescue him. You are superhuman. But tell me who betrayed him?"

"Benedetto."

Luciola uttered a cry of horror.

"I will do what I can," continued the count, "to rescue him."

"A thousand thanks; I believe you."

The count went to the door and called:

"Spero."

The handsome boy immediately appeared, and looked inquiringly at his father.

"Come with me," said the count. "You are still a child, but from this day forth you enter life. Courage and devotion to a just cause make the weak strong. Should I die before my work is done, then take my place."

A pressure of a silver bell brought Ali to the count.

"Are all here?" he asked.

The Nubian nodded.

"Ali, you know what you have to do. As soon as the slightest traitorous voice is heard, you give the signal."

Ali again nodded; the count shoved the curtain aside and disclosed a secret staircase.

"Spero, conduct La Luciola," he ordered, as he descended the stairs, followed by Spero and the diva.