. He turns out to be a Parisian and an
Agent de la Surete. He has betrayed himself. More Agents are coming!
They will be here in a moment! Put off the light!"

The girl did not hesitate a second; she gave the screw a quick twist and
the caboulot was instantly as dark as a tomb.

Having executed this manoeuvre, Mange sprang to Albert de Morcerf's
side, striking Bouche-de-Miel a crushing blow in the face that caused
him to lose his grip of the young man. Then, seizing his employer in his
brawny arms, he lifted him as if he had been a child and ran with him to
the front door; this he opened, leaping into the street with his burden.

"Now run for your life!" he exclaimed, depositing the young man on the
sidewalk.

With this he started off at a tearing pace, closely followed by Morcerf.
They did not pause until they had reached the Rue de Provence, where, in
the blaze of the lights, amid the throngs of honest citizens, they were
safe.

CHAPTER XIV.

ZULEIKA AND MME. MORREL.

Quite a long time had elapsed since the sudden departure of the Viscount
Massetti from Paris, but Zuleika was still in complete ignorance as to
his whereabouts and actions. He was in Rome, of that she had not the
slightest doubt. She was equally convinced that his errand there was to
establish his innocence of the terrible crime imputed to him by Luigi
Vampa, to obtain proofs that would clear him in the eves of her father
and herself, if not of all the world. Why, therefore, did he not write,
why did he not give her some sign that she would understand? His silence
discouraged the young girl, filled her with uneasiness. It seemed to
indicate that he had not succeeded, had not been able to wipe the stain
from his record. If so she would never see him again, for Giovanni was
too proud to reappear in her presence with a dishonored name, a sullied
reputation. This thought was torture, and Monte-Cristo's daughter felt
that should her lover desert her she could not live.

As the days rolled by without a word of intelligence from the Viscount,
Zuleika's fears assumed greater consistency and weight. She grew sad,
inexpressibly sad; her look lost its brightness, her voice its cheery
tone and her step its elasticity. The bloom faded from her youthful
cheeks, giving place to an ashen pallor. She was no longer interested in
her accustomed occupations and amusements, and would sit for hours
together with her hands crossed in her lap, dominated by sorr