The Count of Monte Cristo. Alexandre Dumas

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СКАЧАТЬ on his heart, as, leaning from the coach, he tried to reply in cheerful tones.

      “Good-bye, my sweet Mercédès!—we shall soon meet again!” The rapid progress of the vehicle, which disappeared round one of the turnings of Fort Saint-Nicolas, prevented his adding more.

      “Wait for me, here, all of you!” cried M. Morrel; “I will take the first conveyance I find, and hurry to Marseilles, whence I will bring you word how all is going on.”

      “That’s right!” exclaimed a multitude of voices, “go, and return as quickly as you can!”

      This second departure was followed by a long and fearful state of terrified silence on the part of those who were left behind. The old father and Mercédès remained for some time apart, each absorbed in their separate griefs; but at length the two poor victims of the same blow raised their eyes, and with a simultaneous burst of feeling rushed into each other’s arms.

      Meanwhile Fernand made his reappearance, poured out for himself a glass of water with a trembling hand, then hastily swallowing it, went to sit down on the first vacant chair he perceived; and this was, by mere chance, placed next to the seat on which poor Mercédès had fallen, half fainting, when released from the warm and affectionate embrace of old Dantès. Instinctively Fernand drew back his chair.

      “He is the cause of all this misery—I am quite sure of it,” whispered Caderousse, who had never taken his eyes off Fernand, to Danglars.

      “I really do not think so,” answered the other; “he is too stupid to imagine such a scheme. I only hope the mischief will fall upon the head of whoever wrought it.”

      “You don’t mention those who aided and abetted the cruel deed, any more than of those who advised it,” said Caderousse.

      “Surely,” answered Danglars, “one cannot be expected to become responsible for all the idle words one may have been obliged to listen to in the course of our lives.”

      Meantime the subject of the arrest was being canvassed in every different form.

      “What think you, Danglars,” said one of the party, turning towards him, “of the late unfortunate event?”

      “Why, upon my word, I know not what to say,” replied he. “I think, however, that it is just possible Dantès may have been detected with some trifling article on board ship considered here as contraband.”

      “But how could he have done so without your knowledge, Danglars, who was the ship’s supercargo?”

      “Why, as for that, I could only know what I was told respecting the merchandise with which the vessel was laden. I know she was loaded with cotton, and that she took in her freight at Alexandria from the magazine of M. Pastret, and at Smyrna from M. Pascal’s; that is all I was obliged to know, and I beg I may not be asked for any further particulars.”

      “Now, I recollect!” cried the afflicted old father; “my poor boy told me yesterday he had got a small case of coffee, and another of tobacco, for me!”

      “There you see!” exclaimed Danglars. “Now the mischief is out; depend upon it the custom-house people went rummaging about the ship in our absence, and discovered poor Dantès’ hidden treasures.”

      Mercédès, however, paid no heed to this explanation of her lover’s arrest. Her grief, which she had hitherto tried to restrain, now burst out in a violent fit of hysterical sobbing.

      “Come, come,” said the old man, “be comforted, my poor child; there is still hope!”

      “Hope!” repeated Danglars.

      “Hope!” faintly murmured Fernand; but the word seemed to die away on his pale, agitated lips, and a convulsive spasm passed over his countenance.

      “Good news! good news!” shouted forth one of the party stationed in the balcony on the look-out. “Here comes M. Morrel back. No doubt, now, we shall hear that our friend is released!”

      Mercédès and the old man rushed to meet the person from whom they hoped so much; but the first glance of the pale, desponding countenance of M. Morrel prepared them for evil tidings.

      “What news?” exclaimed a general burst of voices.

      “Alas! my friends,” replied M. Morrel, with a mournful shake of his head, “the thing has assumed a more serious aspect than I expected.”

      “Oh! indeed—indeed, sir, he is innocent!” sobbed forth Mercédès.

      “That I believe!” answered M. Morrel; “but still he is charged———”

      “With what?” inquired the elder Dantès.

      “With being an agent of the Bonapartist faction!”

      Many of my readers may be able to recollect how formidable such an accusation became in the period at which our story is dated.

      A despairing cry escaped the pale lips of Mercédès, while the heart-broken father fell listlessly into a chair, kindly placed for him by one of the pitying guests.

      “Ah, Danglars!” whispered Caderousse, “you have deceived me—the trick you spoke of last night has been played off, I see; but I cannot suffer a poor old man or an innocent girl to die of grief through your fault. I am determined to tell them all about it.”

      “Be silent, you simpleton!” cried Danglars, grasping him by the arm, “or I will not answer even for your own safety. Who can tell whether Dantès be innocent or guilty? The vessel did touch at Elba, where he quitted it, and passed a whole day in the island. Now, should any letters or other documents of a compromising character be found upon him, will it not be taken for granted that all who uphold him are his accomplices?”

      With the rapid instinct of selfishness, Caderousse readily perceived the solidity of this mode of reasoning; he gazed doubtfully, wistfully on Danglars, and then insensibly continued to retreat from the dangerous proximity in which he found himself.

      “Suppose we wait a while, and see what comes of it!” said he, casting a bewildered look on his companion.

      “To be sure!” answered Danglars. “Let us wait, by all means. If he be innocent, of course he will be set at liberty; if guilty, why, it is no use involving ourselves in his conspiracy.”

      “Then let us go hence. I cannot stay to endure the sight of that old man’s distress.”

      “With all my heart!” replied Danglars, but too pleased to find a partner in his retreat. “Let us take ourselves out of the way, and leave every one else to do the same thing, if they please.”

      After their departure, Fernand, who had now again become the only friend and protector poor Mercédès could find in this trying hour, led the weeping girl back to her home, which she had quitted with such different hopes and feelings in the morning, while some friends of Dantès conducted the poor heart-broken parent to his childless and dreary abode.

      The rumour of Edmond’s arrest as a Bonapartist agent was not slow in circulating throughout the city.

      “Could you ever have credited such a thing, my dear Danglars?” asked M. Morrel, as on his return to the port for the purpose of gleaning fresh tidings СКАЧАТЬ