We left Spero at the moment when the walls of the room he was in opened and presented the horrible spectacle which met his eyes. In what way had the poor child got in such company? Benedetto, of course, had done this dastardly act. He had drugged her after he had abducted her from Monte-Cristo's house, and the poor girl was unable to give utterance to a cry. She saw everything that went on about her, but was unable to say a word. And Spero had to gaze at these terrible scenes; he could not keep his eyes away. He tried in vain to find a means of entering the hall. The whole scene had been arranged by Benedetto and Larsagny in a satanic spirit. Larsagny owned the house in Courbevoie, and had often presided at its bacchanalian revels. Carmen had not called him a master of immorality for nothing. While Spero was beating the iron railing in despair, the light suddenly went out and all was still. The vicomte strained his eyes to see what was going on in the hall, and not seeing anything, waited in the agony of fear for what was coming.

In about ten minutes it became light again in the hall, and now the young man saw Jane again, but this time she was alone.

Spero breathed more freely, and, beside himself, he called:

"Jane! Jane! come to me!"

At the rear of the hall a door opened, and Spero recognized in a man who crossed the threshold—Monsieur de Larsagny.

Larsagny drew near to Jane, and, sinking upon his knees, he pressed his lips to the young girl's hand. Spero breathlessly followed Larsagny's movements, and when he saw that Jane made no resistance, he became violent. With all his strength, he threw himself against the iron railing; it gave way, and with a cry Spero rushed upon Monsieur de Larsagny. In a second the banker lay on the floor. Throwing his arms about Jane, Spero cried:

"Jane, my darling, do you not know me? I am—Monte-Cristo."

"Monte-Cristo!" cried Larsagny, in terror, and with a gasp he fell back dead—a stroke of apoplexy had put an end to his life.

Spero did not know that he was the living picture of his father. Edmond Dantes had just looked like that when he was arrested at Marseilles through the intrigues of Danglars, Fernand and Villefort, and Danglars-Larsagny had thought it was Monte-Cristo who stood before him.

Jane still lay motionless in Spero's arms. The vicomte called despairingly for help, but none came.

Suddenly it occurred to him that Jane's condition was due to some narcotic, and with a cry of joy he pulled a small crystal vial from his breast pocket. It contained a liquid the AbbÉ Faria had taught Edmond Dantes how to make. Putting the vial to Jane's lips, he poured a few drops down her throat.

The effect was instantaneous. Jane uttered a deep sigh, and looked at the young man with returning consciousness.

"Spero!" she cried. "You here in this terrible place? Oh, go—go away; you must not stay here."

"Jane, I have come to take you with me."

"No!—oh, no! I am accursed! I must not accompany you!" sobbed the young girl.

"What nonsense, child. You have been abducted from my house and brought here against your will. Come with me; I will bring you away, or else die with you!"

"Not for any price," groaned Jane. "Go—leave this place, and let me die! I cannot live any longer—the shame kills me."

"Jane, do not speak so. Jane, my Jane, do you really refuse to accompany me?"

"God forgive me if I do wrong; I cannot leave you," she murmured, as she threw herself into the young man's arms.

But at this moment the coarse songs sounded again, and a man entered the hall. It was Benedetto!