who had hurried to
his daughter's side.

"For brandy," answered M. Morrel, his hand still on the cord. "It will
revive her."

"Never mind the brandy," returned the Count, as he took a small vial
containing a red-looking fluid from his pocket and, opening Zuleika's
mouth, poured eight drops of the liquid down her throat. "This is the
Abbe Faria's elixir, a potent remedy that never yet failed of effect! It
will work like a charm! See! It is already doing its office!"

As he uttered these words Zuleika moved slightly in the fauteuil, then
opened her eyes and gazed about her in bewilderment. Almost immediately,
however, she realized that she had swooned and a full sense of her
father's terrible though considerately made revelation returned to her.
She buried her face in her hands, quivered from head to foot, and then
the glistening drops trickling through her fingers told that the tears
had at last come to calm her. Valentine bent over her, gently stroking
her raven hair and endeavoring in a womanly way to soothe her, while
the Count and Maximilian looked on with anxious countenances, waiting
for Mme. Morrel's touch and influence to do their work.

Suddenly Zuleika removed her hands from her tear-bathed visage,
straightened herself up in the fauteuil and, fixing her glance on
Monte-Cristo, said, in a low, faint and gasping tone that betrayed the
depth, the intensity, of her emotion:

"Father, you spoke of finding Giovanni! Has he disappeared?"

The Count compressed his lips, hesitating to reply. He wished to keep
back as much of the dread truth as possible. He feared the effect upon
his daughter of the startling announcement that young Massetti was
wandering about amid the ruins of the Colosseum like a second King Lear
on the blasted heath. But Maximilian came quickly to his aid.

"There is no need to find the Viscount," he said. "He has already been
found and is at present under treatment in a suitable institution, where
he is both comfortable and contented."

Zuleika cast a grateful look at M. and Mme. Morrel. Monte-Cristo seized
Maximilian's hand and pressed it warmly.

"You have done this, my friend," said he, his countenance brightening,
"and I thank you for it!"

"Do not thank me," replied the husband, gazing fondly and admiringly at
his wife; "thank Valentine, for she it was who formed the plan and
successfully carried it into execution!"

Mme. Morrel cast down her eyes and a heightened color overspread