"Upon my word," whispered Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud, "Villefort is insane."

"Did you notice that Madame Danglars was struggling with a fainting fit?" asked Chateau-Renaud.

"Ah, bah! Benedetto is a handsome youth, and Madame Danglars is not a model of virtue; who knows what relations they have had with each other?"

"Perhaps Debray might know more, he--"

"Hush! the procureur du roi is speaking. I'll wager that his speech will be less shrewd than that of the maniac."

The procureur du roi arose amid the hushed silence of the court-room, and began to speak, throwing all the blame on Monsieur de Villefort rather than on Benedetto.

"Let us not be carried away by pity," he said, "for these unscrupulous men, who soil their judicial ermine in the lowest pa.s.sions of mankind, and thereby endanger the lives and sacrifice the honor of their wives and children."

After the prisoner's counsel had summed up eloquently for his client and the judge had charged the jury, the latter went out, but returned in a short time.

"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon a verdict?" asked the judge.

There was intense excitement in the court-room, the spectators literally holding their breath.

"Yes," answered the foreman; "we find the prisoner guilty, with extenuating circ.u.mstances."

The spectators clapped their hands.

"Prisoner, have you anything to say?" asked the judge.

"No," replied Benedetto, in a calm, dignified manner.

"The sentence of the court is, that you be sent to the galleys for life."

No sooner had the sentence been p.r.o.nounced than the man who had accompanied Madame Danglars glided toward the bar where Benedetto stood, and whispered something in his ear.

"We have kept our word, have we not?"

"Yes; but the galleys?"

"We have saved your head. More we cannot do at present. Have patience."

The court officials coming up to take the prisoner interrupted the conversation. Benedetto was placed in a coach and driven to Bicetre. He was placed in a filthy jail, and then left to himself. He had not been long there when he felt a hand touch him and a voice whisper close to his ear.

"You are in luck, comrade," said the unknown. "Some rich lady is interested in you. You don't remember me, perhaps. 'Twas I who brought you that note two months ago. I got two gold pieces for doing so."

"Who was the lady, and how did you get here?"

"I don't know who she is, but she appears to be over forty. As for me, I am a priest, and committed wrong--"

At this moment the door was opened, and a voice called:

"Benedetto! Benedetto!"

Benedetto arose, and peering through the grated cell-door saw a woman.

"What do you want?" he gruffly asked.

"I am your mother."

"My mother?"

"Yes."

"I have one favor to ask of you."

"I am willing to do anything for you."

"Are you going to stay in Paris?"

"No, I shall leave France on the 26th of February."

"And you sail from Ma.r.s.eilles?"

"Yes."

"Then you will be near Toulon. I know that you do not wish me to see your face or learn your secret. But if you have any love for me, come and see me there."

The poor woman yearned to embrace her son, whose hypocritical words awoke the dormant love in her bosom.

"I promise to see you before I sail on the 26th."

"Come to Toulon, then, on the 24th. And, by the way, here is a letter from one of my comrades to whom I am under deep obligations. On your way home drop it into the letter-box."

She could not decline to do him this service. Her usual caution deserted her, and as she slipped the note in her bosom the light fell full on her face.

Benedetto recognized her at once as Madame Danglars, the wife of Baron Danglars, and the mother of the girl he was to have married. He could hardly restrain a cry of rage and astonishment.

"Good-by," he said. "Do not forget the 24th."

CHAPTER IX

THE EDITORIAL ROOMS

"Well, my dear Chateau-Renaud, is there anything new?" asked Beauchamp of his friend, who had paid him a visit to his office.

"Bah--not much! It's the same old story in the Orient, and outside of that place nothing ever happens in the world."

"Nothing? What will you give me if I tell you something which will interest you, my dear Chateau-Renaud?"