"You have insulted me," he said, gravely, "in insulting this woman who is dearer to me than life itself; it matters little who you are, prepare to die."
This room was a singular duelling ground, but Esperance cared little for that. His pulse beat no more quickly than usual. He had greatly changed in the last few hours. He felt himself elevated to the dignity of chastisement.
The two antagonists stood on guard. There was a moment of profound silence. In a mural painting on the walls of a German cathedral, two men stand like this, and a little distance off, half hidden behind a tree, is the figure of Death.
Esperance was perfectly cool, but Benedetto saw after two or three passes that he had no boy antagonist. Calling together all his resources he made a lunge. His antagonist returned it, and grazed Benedetto's breast.
At this moment Jane revived. "Courage, Esperance, courage!" she murmured.
The young man heard her voice, and the contest was renewed. Ten times did the sword of Esperance menace the heart of Benedetto, ten times did the scoundrel escape death. But he began to feel afraid. The sword of the son of Monte-Cristo flashed and gleamed before his eyes like the fiery sword of the Bible. Esperance was gaining the advantage, and a cry of rage escaped the panting breast of Benedetto. Was it possible that after all, his vengeance was about to slip through his fingers? And was he to die instead of Monte-Cristo's son! He recoiled further and further, feeling that the sword of his opponent would pin him to the wall.
Monte-Cristo's son said to him, "Scoundrel! your life is in my power. Repent of the evil you have done, and I will show you mercy."
"Mercy!" sneered Benedetto. "You talk of mercy. Take care, I hate you! I hate your father. Hasten to take my life or I swear that I will take yours!"
"Die then!" cried Esperance.
And with a rapid movement of his sword he disarmed his adversary; his blade was about to enter Benedetto's breast when the report of a pistol was heard, and Esperance, shot through the heart, fell by Jane's side. She threw herself on his body with cries of despair. Benedetto, with an infernal smile, turned away with a pistol in his hand.