"Esperance," he said, solemnly, "has not the day arrived?"
There was a long silence. Then—was it a reality? It seemed as if the lips moved and pronounced the word:
"Come!"
Monte-Cristo smiled.
"I knew it!" he murmured.
His face was transfigured, his white hair was like a halo about his head.
"I am coming, my son!" he said. "I must first finish my task."
He drew from his pocket a roll of parchment, and read it aloud:
"My Last Will and Testament.
"Let those who find this paper read it with coolness. Let them be on their guard against the surprises of their imagination. The man who is about to die, and whose name is signed to these lines, has been more powerful than the most powerful on earth. He has suffered as never man suffered. He has loved as never man loved! He has hated as well.
"Suffering, love and hatred have all passed away—all is forgotten, all is dead within him except the memory of the child he adored and lost.
"This man possessed wealth greater than any sovereign. And this man dies in poverty. He so willed it that he might punish himself. He chose the wrong. He wished to bend all wills to his. He elected himself judge and meted out punishment. The wrongs he avenged were not social evils, they were private and his own. He bows low in penitence, that he did not employ his great fortune in doing good. He dies in poverty, though possessed of untold millions. He designates no heir, for he cannot feel that the most upright man may not become guilty when he knows himself to be all-powerful. He has, however, no right to destroy this wealth. It exists, though concealed. He bequeaths it to that power which men call Providence. It will bear this paper, and place in the hands of man these mysterious signs.
"Will the treasure be discovered?
"Whoever reads this paper will, if he be wise, destroy it. And yet it may be that this colossal fortune will fall into the hands of a man who will finish the work that I have begun better than I could have done.
"May whoever finds this paper heed the last words of a dying man.
"The Abbé Dantès.
"February 25th, 1865."
Below this signature was a singular design. Monte-Cristo studied it.