"I will try to be back soon. Adieu."

Madame Danglars got into her carriage and drove off in the direction of Toulon.

The feelings of the poor woman, who was going to the Bagnio to see Benedetto as she had promised, can be imagined. She had seen all her hopes reduced to nothing. Her husband had fled after a shameful bankruptcy, her lover had deserted her, her daughter had disappeared without leaving a word behind her, and what was left to her? The child of her shame, who had been sentenced to the galleys for murder.

She had sacrificed everything for this son, whom she loved dearly; the Jesuits had taken her million, and saved Benedetto from the gallows.

Though, to her idea, the galleys was worse than death; but there was a chance of his getting free. No, she did not wish to think any more; she would bury herself in a convent in Asia Minor, and forget everything.

Toulon was at length reached; the driver took the road to the port, and she felt her heart cease beating. In a little while she would see Benedetto; the carriage stopped; the driver got out and opened the door.

"Will you please step out? Here is the Bagnio."

With trembling limbs, Madame Danglars left the coach, and slipping a few gold pieces into his hand, she said:

"Make yourself comfortable in the nearest saloon; in about three hours we shall return home."

"To-day, madame?" asked the man; "that would be impossible."

"Why impossible? Get fresh horses, I will pay you for everything."

"I am very sorry, madame, but the storm, the mistral will come very soon, and while the mistral lasts we cannot ride."

"Then I must look for another driver; I cannot delay my return."

"Madame, believe me, you will not find any one who will drive you while the storm lasts. Wait till to-morrow. I will put up my horses at the Black Eagle and await your commands there."

"I will think about it, but doubt whether I shall follow your advice.

Adieu."

Madame Danglars entered the office of the port inspector and the driver drove off.

CHAPTER XV

IN THE BAGNIO

"Well, what is the matter now?" asked the inspector, gruffly, as Madame Danglars handed him the priest's letter. He grumblingly opened the letter, but when he had read its contents his face lighted up and, making a respectful bow, he said:

"Madame, after reading these lines, I can only carry out all your wishes, as far as they are confined within the limits of the rules in force here. You desire to see one of our prisoners?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are aware that such an interview can only take place in the presence of the chaplain?"

Madame Danglars became frightened. She had not expected this.

"I will have the chaplain informed," continued the official. "In fact, I shall let him come into my office. This is a special favor. Yesterday there was a lady here to see Benedetto, who was not permitted to converse with him except in the presence of the port inspector and the jailer."

"A lady?" exclaimed Madame Danglars, vivaciously. "Can you tell me who she was?"

"Oh, certainly, it was Mademoiselle de Villefort, the daughter of the recently deceased district-attorney."

"Monsieur de Villefort is dead?" said Madame Danglars in a choking voice.

"Yes, madame, he died in a private lunatic asylum in Paris. Did you know the gentleman?"

"Yes, slightly," replied Madame Danglars, restraining her emotion. "If you would let the gentleman be informed now--"

"At once, madame," said the official.

He wrote a few lines and went away, promising to return shortly. In about half an hour the chaplain appeared. He bowed respectfully, and said:

"Madame, I am aware of the reason which brings you here."

"What, you know?" exclaimed Madame Danglars, frightened.

"Calm yourself, madame; the secrets which are intrusted to me are buried. I must witness your interview as a matter of form, but I shall neither hear nor see."

Madame Danglars with tears in her eyes thanked the chaplain. The next minute the door opened and Benedetto appeared, accompanied by the jailer. When the poor mother saw the yellow and red clothing, the green cap, and the chain which led from the waist to the ankle, she uttered a low cry and clutched the arm of a chair to prevent herself from fainting. Upon a wink from the chaplain, who wore the dress of a Jesuit priest, the jailer departed, and after the priest had closed the door, he turned toward Benedetto, and said:

"My son, thank G.o.d for his mercy, and try to show yourself worthy of it."

Neither Madame Danglars nor the priest noticed the smile which flitted across the convict's face. Benedetto collected himself immediately, and taking off his hat he bent his knee to his mother and crossed his eyes with his hand. The priest sat in the window alcove, pulled a prayer-book out of his pocket and began to read; Madame Danglars threw a look around, then she took the bald-shaved head of Benedetto in her hands and sobbingly murmured:

"My poor, poor son!"

"A thousand thanks, mother, for coming," said the hypocritical convict.

"Oh, I desired to come, it was necessary for me to see you again,"

stammered the poor woman.

"How good you are! Are you aware that my father pursued me even on his death-bed? He sent his daughter, my sister, here; she brought me his last regards, but she did not give me her hand nor call me brother."

"My son, forget everything bad that has been done to you; forgive your enemies, as you desire to be yourself forgiven," implored the poor mother.

"For your sake, then. But, tell me, mother, are you really going to leave France?"

"Yes; to-morrow, at this hour, I shall sail."

"But you are not going alone; the journey is so far, and I fear danger for you."

"Thanks, Benedetto, for your anxiety. How happy you make me. But calm yourself, I shall dwell in the society of pious women, who will protect me."

"Yes, I forgot. You gave your fortune to buy this protection--the price you paid was pretty steep."