hour later, Monte-Cristo and his men reached the oasis. The
Count and Captain Joliette rode to the wells and at once saw where the
grass had been beaten down by the Khouans and their horses.

"They have been here and recently, too," said Captain Joliette.

"Thank God!" said Monte-Cristo, fervently. "We are on their track! But
what is that?" he added. "Is it blood?"

Coucon and Fanfar, who had been attentively examining the stain,
simultaneously answered:

"It is blood."

"My God!" cried Monte-Cristo, with a convulsive start, "then they have
slain my son!"

"Not so, Count," said Captain Joliette. "Had they slain Esperance they
would have left his body here. But see," resumed he, pointing to the
spot where Esperance had made the attack on Maldar; "here are evidences
of a struggle; they have fought among themselves and one of them has
been wounded."

"Heaven grant it may be so!" said Monte-Cristo.

The party started off again, following the track of the Arabs' horses,
and after an hour's ride came in sight of a long, low building with a
gleaming minaret, standing alone in the midst of the desert.

"The mosque of the Khouans!" cried Captain Joliette, triumphantly.
"Maldar and his ruffians are there! Look! Yonder are their horses!"

Monte-Cristo and his men reached the building and leaped to the ground;
they left their panting animals in charge of Bobichel, and, drawing
their revolvers, made their way into the mosque.

There a sight met their eyes that almost froze the blood in their veins.

Esperance, with his hands tied behind him and stripped to the waist,
was kneeling upon a large, flat stone in the centre of the mosque. Over
him stood Maldar, his yataghan uplifted to strike. The four Khouans
stood at a short distance, chanting what was evidently a death-hymn.

Instantly Monte-Cristo aimed his weapon at the Sultan and fired. Maldar
fell dead beside his intended victim.

The other Arabs leaped through the open windows and, mounting their
horses, fled across the desert.

Monte-Cristo caught his son in his arms.

"Esperance, my beloved!" he cried.

"Father!" exclaimed the rescued lad, clasping his arms about
Monte-Cristo's neck.

Esperance's garments were quickly restored to him by Fanfar, and when he
was clad in them, the party again mounted and started on their return to
the colonist's farm.

There is no need to describe the toilsome journey, it was accomplished
in due time, and once more Esperance