In the ante-room Madame Caraman lay asleep on the sofa. Esperance smiled, but as he knew that Jane was safe, he did not arouse her nurse.
He went to his room. Hardly had the sound of his footsteps died away than the portière is lifted in yonder corner, and a dark form appears. It was a man. His face was hidden by a black vail. In his hand was a white handkerchief and a glass bottle. He stole to the bed so softly that not a sound was heard.
Who is this man? It was thus that Monte-Cristo once entered the room of Valentine de Villefort. But this was not Monte-Cristo. As he reached the bed he extended his arm and held to the girl's face the handkerchief, from which exhaled a blue vapor.
Jane was breathing naturally. Suddenly her whole form quivered, then came immobility. Her limbs straighten, the rose fades from her cheek, her brow becomes like marble. The man lifted the inert form in his arms, and slowly, with infinite precautions, he moved toward the portière, which he pushes aside and disappears.
Ah! Madame Caraman, ah! Esperance, you little know what is going on!
This man is Benedetto. His revenge has begun!
And in that empty room there is now no other sound than the ticking of the clock.