He drew his revolvers from his pocket, and pointed one at Benedetto.
"Move!" he cried, "or I will kill you as I would a dog!"
"You would commit murder then, would you?"
"No—it would be simple self-protection. I am not your prisoner, and this woman ought to be sacred to you."
"This woman," said Benedetto, "tells you she comes here not of her own free will. Do you believe her?"
"Jane! answer him, my beloved! Tell him he lies!"
Benedetto started back.
"Jane Zeld," he said, "tell the absolute truth. Tell the Vicomte if you consider yourself worthy of him." Jane turned her weary eyes upon the Vicomte. "Tell him if the daughter of the Lyons outcast has any right to lean on the arm of the Vicomte de Monte-Cristo. Jane Zeld, think of the past. Tell this gentleman who your mother was. Tell him where she died."
"No, no!" cried Jane. "Enough! enough!"
"No, it is not enough. Lead the Vicomte to your mother's tomb and there place your hand in his, if you dare!"