Zuleika, astounded, bewildered, gazed at her lover and with difficulty resisted the impulse to cast herself upon his neck.

Monte-Cristo, Maximilian, Valentine and the Italian physician grouped themselves a short distance away, waiting and watching. Their eagerness and anxiety were intense.

Five minutes, ten minutes passed, then fifteen. As Dr. Absalom's watch told the quarter of an hour, the Viscount all at once opened his eyes. They rested on Zuleika. The anxious interest of the spectators was now at the highest pitch. The Count, M. Morrel, Valentine and the Italian leaned forward breathlessly. Giovanni put his hand to his brow, uttered a low sigh and then sat up, gazing at Monte-Cristo's daughter in bewilderment. At last he spoke.

"Zuleika, darling Zuleika!" he said, faintly, but very tenderly, at the same time extending his arms towards her. The girl glanced at Dr. Absalom. He pointed to Giovanni and smiled. She instantly comprehended his permission and threw herself into her lover's embrace.

"Giovanni, dear Giovanni," she murmured, "you are yourself again, are you not?"

"Myself, Zuleika? Have I ever been otherwise?"

"You have been very ill, Giovanni."

"Ah! yes. That is the reason I am here." Glancing around him he added: "There is your father, too, but who are those strangers with him?"

"The physicians, and two of our most devoted friends, M. Morrel and his wife."

The Viscount sank back upon the couch and took Zuleika's hand in his, clasping it warmly.

"I feel faint and feeble," he said, "oh! so very faint and feeble, but a terrible, crushing weight seems to have been removed from my brain!"

He spoke rationally. Dr. Absalom had worked a modern miracle--the young man's reason was fully restored!

The Count and Maximilian exchanged glances of delight. Valentine's eyes were wet with tears of joy. As for Zuleika, her cup of happiness was full. Dr. Absalom smiled placidly. The Italian physician advanced and took him by the hand.

"I congratulate you," said he, cordially. "Your skill is simply amazing!"

The Hebrew bowed profoundly.

"Doctor," said he, "I have fulfilled my promise and my portion of the work is done. The rest remains for you to accomplish. You must resume charge of the patient and restore his strength."

With these words the old savant resumed his hat, saluted all present and, leaning heavily upon his gold-headed cane, passed slowly from the apartment.

Monte-Cristo followed him, enthusiastically expressing his gratitude; taking from his pocket a huge roll of bank-bills, he offered it to the Hebrew, but the latter firmly refused to accept.

"I remember the Athenian mob, M. the Count!" said he, impressively.

As they passed the director's office, that official came out.




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