The day after that in which the scene we have just describedhad taken place on the road between Bellegarde andBeaucaire, a man of about thirty or two and thirty, dressedin a bright blue frock coat, nankeen trousers, and a whitewaistcoat, having the appearance and accent of anEnglishman, presented himself before the mayor ofMarseilles. "Sir," said he, "I am chief clerk of the houseof Thomson & French, of Rome. We are, and have been theseten years, connected with the house of Morrel & Son, ofMarseilles. We have a hundred thousand francs or thereaboutsloaned on their securities, and we are a little uneasy atreports that have reached us that the firm is on the brinkof ruin. I have come, therefore, express from Rome, to askyou for information."

"Sir," replied the mayor. "I know very well that during thelast four or five years misfortune has seemed to pursue M.Morrel. He has lost four or five vessels, and suffered bythree or four bankruptcies; but it is not for me, although Iam a creditor myself to the amount of ten thousand francs,to give any information as to the state of his finances. Askof me, as mayor, what is my opinion of M. Morrel, and Ishall say that he is a man honorable to the last degree, andwho has up to this time fulfilled every engagement withscrupulous punctuality. This is all I can say, sir; if youwish to learn more, address yourself to M. de Boville, theinspector of prisons, No. 15, Rue de Nouailles; he has, Ibelieve, two hundred thousand francs in Morrel's hands, andif there be any grounds for apprehension, as this is agreater amount than mine, you will most probably find himbetter informed than myself."

The Englishman seemed to appreciate this extreme delicacy,made his bow and went away, proceeding with a characteristicBritish stride towards the street mentioned. M. de Bovillewas in his private room, and the Englishman, on perceivinghim, made a gesture of surprise, which seemed to indicatethat it was not the first time he had been in his presence.As to M. de Boville, he was in such a state of despair, thatit was evident all the faculties of his mind, absorbed inthe thought which occupied him at the moment, did not alloweither his memory or his imagination to stray to the past.The Englishman, with the coolness of his nation, addressedhim in terms nearly similar to those with which he hadaccosted the mayor of Marseilles. "Oh, sir," exclaimed M. deBoville, "your fears are unfortunately but too well founded,and you see before you a man in despair. I had two hundredthousand francs placed in the hands of Morrel & Son; thesetwo hundred thousand francs were the dowry of my daughter,who was to be married in a fortnight, and these two hundredthousand francs were payable, half on the 15th of thismonth, and the other half on the 15th of next month. I hadinformed M. Morrel of my desire to have these paymentspunctually, and he has been here within the last half-hourto tell me that if his ship, the Pharaon, did not come intoport on the 15th, he would be wholly unable to make thispayment."

"But," said the Englishman, "this looks very much like asuspension of payment."

"It looks more like bankruptcy!" exclaimed M. de Bovilledespairingly.

The Englishman appeared to reflect a moment, and then said,- "From which it would appear, sir, that this creditinspires you with considerable apprehension?"

"To tell you the truth, I consider it lost."

"Well, then, I will buy it of you!"

"You?"

"Yes, I!"

"But at a tremendous discount, of course?"

"No, for two hundred thousand francs. Our house," added theEnglishman with a laugh, "does not do things in that way."

"And you will pay" -

"Ready money." And the Englishman drew from his pocket abundle of bank-notes, which might have been twice the sum M.de Boville feared to lose. A ray of joy passed across M. deBoville's countenance, yet he made an effort atself-control, and said, - "Sir, I ought to tell you that,in all probability, you will not realize six per cent ofthis sum."

"That's no affair of mine," replied the Englishman, "that isthe affair of the house of Thomson & French, in whose name Iact. They have, perhaps, some motive to serve in hasteningthe ruin of a rival firm. But all I know, sir, is, that I amready to hand you over this sum in exchange for yourassignment of the debt. I only ask a brokerage."

"Of course, that is perfectly just," cried M. de Boville."The commission is usually one and a half; will you have two- three - five per cent, or even more? Whatever you say."

"Sir," replied the Englishman, laughing, "I am like myhouse, and do not do such things - no, the commission I askis quite different."

"Name it, sir, I beg."

"You are the inspector of prisons?"

"I have been so these fourteen years."

"You keep the registers of entries and departures?"

"I do."

"To these registers there are added notes relative to theprisoners?"

"There are special reports on every prisoner."

"Well, sir, I was educated at home by a poor devil of anabbe, who disappeared suddenly. I have since learned that hewas confined in the Chateau d'If, and I should like to learnsome particulars of his death."

"What was his name?"

"The Abbe Faria."

"Oh, I recollect him perfectly," cried M. de Boville; "hewas crazy."

"So they said."

"Oh, he was, decidedly."

"Very possibly; but what sort of madness was it?"

"He pretended to know of an immense treasure, and offeredvast sums to the government if they would liberate him."

"Poor devil! - and he is dead?"

"Yes, sir, five or six months ago - last February."

"You have a good memory, sir, to recollect dates so well."

"I recollect this, because the poor devil's death wasaccompanied by a singular incident."

"May I ask what that was?" said the Englishman with anexpression of curiosity, which a close observer would havebeen astonished at discovering in his phlegmaticcountenance.

"Oh dear, yes, sir; the abbe's dungeon was forty or fiftyfeet distant from that of one of Bonaparte's emissaries, - one of those who had contributed the most to the return ofthe usurper in 1815, - a very resolute and very dangerousman."

"Indeed!" said the Englishman.

"Yes," replied M. de Boville; "I myself had occasion to seethis man in 1816 or 1817, and we could only go into hisdungeon with a file of soldiers. That man made a deepimpression on me; I shall never forget his countenance!" TheEnglishman smiled imperceptibly.

"And you say, sir," he interposed, "that the two dungeons"-

"Were separated by a distance of fifty feet; but it appearsthat this Edmond Dantes" -

"This dangerous man's name was" -

"Edmond Dantes. It appears, sir, that this Edmond Dantes hadprocured tools, or made them, for they found a tunnelthrough which the prisoners held communication with oneanother."

"This tunnel was dug, no doubt, with an intention ofescape?"

"No doubt; but unfortunately for the prisoners, the AbbeFaria had an attack of catalepsy, and died."

"That must have cut short the projects of escape."

"For the dead man, yes," replied M. de Boville, "but not forthe survivor; on the contrary, this Dantes saw a means ofaccelerating his escape. He, no doubt, thought thatprisoners who died in the Chateau d'If were interred in anordinary burial-ground, and he conveyed the dead man intohis own cell, took his place in the sack in which they hadsewed up the corpse, and awaited the moment of interment."

"It was a bold step, and one that showed some courage,"remarked the Englishman.

"As I have already told you, sir, he was a very dangerousman; and, fortunately, by his own act disembarrassed thegovernment of the fears it had on his account."

"How was that?"

"How? Do you not comprehend?"

"No."

"The Chateau d'If has no cemetery, and they simply throw thedead into the sea, after fastening a thirty-six poundcannon-ball to their feet."

"Well," observed the Englishman as if he were slow ofcomprehension.

"Well, they fastened a thirty-six pound ball to his feet,and threw him into the sea."

"Really!" exclaimed the Englishman.

"Yes, sir," continued the inspector of prisons. "You mayimagine the amazement of the fugitive when he found himselfflung headlong over the rocks! I should like to have seenhis face at that moment."

"That would have been difficult."

"No matter," replied De Boville, in supreme good-humor atthe certainty of recovering his two hundred thousand francs,- "no matter, I can fancy it." And he shouted withlaughter.

"So can I," said the Englishman, and he laughed too; but helaughed as the English do, "at the end of his teeth."

"And so," continued the Englishman who first gained hiscomposure, "he was drowned?"

"Unquestionably."

"So that the governor got rid of the dangerous and the crazyprisoner at the same time?"

"Precisely."

"But some official document was drawn up as to this affair,I suppose?" inquired the Englishman.

"Yes, yes, the mortuary deposition. You understand, Dantes'relations, if he had any, might have some interest inknowing if he were dead or alive."

"So that now, if there were anything to inherit from him,they may do so with easy conscience. He is dead, and nomistake about it."

"Oh, yes; and they may have the fact attested whenever theyplease."

"So be it," said the Englishman. "But to return to theseregisters."

"True, this story has diverted our attention from them.Excuse me."

"Excuse you for what? For the story? By no means; it reallyseems to me very curious."

"Yes, indeed. So, sir, you wish to see all relating to thepoor abbe, who really was gentleness itself."

"Yes, you will much oblige me."

"Go into my study here, and I will show it to you." And theyboth entered M. de Boville's study. Everything was herearranged in perfect order; each register had its number,each file of papers its place. The inspector begged theEnglishman to seat himself in an arm-chair, and placedbefore him the register and documents relative to theChateau d'If, giving him all the time he desired for theexamination, while De Boville seated himself in a corner,and began to read his newspaper. The Englishman easily foundthe entries relative to the Abbe Faria; but it seemed thatthe history which the inspector had related interested himgreatly, for after having perused the first documents heturned over the leaves until he reached the depositionrespecting Edmond Dantes. There he found everything arrangedin due order, - the accusation, examination, Morrel'spetition, M. de Villefort's marginal notes. He folded up theaccusation quietly, and put it as quietly in his pocket;read the examination, and saw that the name of Noirtier wasnot mentioned in it; perused, too, the application dated10th April, 1815, in which Morrel, by the deputy procureur'sadvice, exaggerated with the best intentions (for Napoleonwas then on the throne) the services Dantes had rendered tothe imperial cause - services which Villefort'scertificates rendered indispensable. Then he saw through thewhole thing. This petition to Napoleon, kept back byVillefort, had become, under the second restoration, aterrible weapon against him in the hands of the king'sattorney. He was no longer astonished when he searched on tofind in the register this note, placed in a bracket againsthis name: -

Edmond Dantes.

An inveterate Bonapartist; took an active part in the returnfrom the Island of Elba.

To be kept in strict solitary confinement, and to be closelywatched and guarded.

Beneath these lines was written in another hand: "See noteabove - nothing can be done." He compared the writing inthe bracket with the writing of the certificate placedbeneath Morrel's petition, and discovered that the note inthe bracket was the some writing as the certificate - thatis to say, was in Villefort's handwriting. As to the notewhich accompanied this, the Englishman understood that itmight have been added by some inspector who had taken amomentary interest in Dantes' situation, but who had, fromthe remarks we have quoted, found it impossible to give anyeffect to the interest he had felt.

As we have said, the inspector, from discretion, and that hemight not disturb the Abbe Faria's pupil in his researches,had seated himself in a corner, and was reading Le DrapeauBlanc. He did not see the Englishman fold up and place inhis pocket the accusation written by Danglars under thearbor of La Reserve, and which had the postmark,"Marseilles, 27th Feb., delivery 6 o'clock, P.M." But itmust be said that if he had seen it, he attached so littleimportance to this scrap of paper, and so much importance tohis two hundred thousand francs, that he would not haveopposed whatever the Englishman might do, however irregularit might be.

"Thanks," said the latter, closing the register with a slam,"I have all I want; now it is for me to perform my promise.Give me a simple assignment of your debt; acknowledgetherein the receipt of the cash, and I will hand you overthe money." He rose, gave his seat to M. de Boville, whotook it without ceremony, and quickly drew up the requiredassignment, while the Englishman counted out the bank-noteson the other side of the desk.