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."