"Well?" said he, in an unsteady voice.
Fanfar was breathless with excitement and terror. When he could find words, he said:
"The lad is gone!"
"My God!" cried Monte-Cristo, putting his hand to his forehead and staggering beneath the overwhelming blow, "I felt it! I had a premonition of some impending disaster, I knew not what! Oh! Esperance! Esperance!"
He hurried into the adjoining room and stood beside the empty bed. The moon was now shining in unclouded splendor and the apartment was almost as light as day. The slight covering had been torn from the couch and lay in a heap on the floor. Near it a small object sparkled; the agonized father stooped and picked it up: it was a miniature dagger of oriental workmanship, and upon its jeweled handle was an inscription in the Arabic tongue. Monte-Cristo took the weapon to the window and the full light of the silvery moonbeams fell upon it. The inscription was from the Koran, and was a maxim adopted by the Khouan tribe. The Count read it and trembled.
"I recognize this weapon," said he; "it is Maldar's. The Sultan is living and has been here! It is to him I owe this terrible misfortune—he has carried away my son!"
Miss Elphys approached the Count and touched his arm.
"We must start in pursuit at once!" said she, with a look of courage and determination.
"We?" cried Madame Caraman, aghast. "You, surely, do not mean again to face the dangers of this barbarous country, to go upon another Quixotic expedition, and drag me with you? Remember you are a woman! Besides, there are plenty of men here for the task!"
Clary glanced at the governess with indignation, but vouchsafed no reply to her selfish speech.