The daring attempt to rob the count was the topic ofconversation throughout Paris for the next fortnight. Thedying man had signed a deposition declaring Benedetto to bethe assassin. The police had orders to make the strictestsearch for the murderer. Caderousse's knife, dark lantern,bunch of keys, and clothing, excepting the waistcoat, whichcould not be found, were deposited at the registry; thecorpse was conveyed to the morgue. The count told every onethat this adventure had happened during his absence atAuteuil, and that he only knew what was related by the AbbeBusoni, who that evening, by mere chance, had requested topass the night in his house, to examine some valuable booksin his library. Bertuccio alone turned pale wheneverBenedetto's name was mentioned in his presence, but therewas no reason why any one should notice his doing so.Villefort, being called on to prove the crime, was preparinghis brief with the same ardor that he was accustomed toexercise when required to speak in criminal cases.

But three weeks had already passed, and the most diligentsearch had been unsuccessful; the attempted robbery and themurder of the robber by his comrade were almost forgotten inanticipation of the approaching marriage of MademoiselleDanglars to the Count Andrea Cavalcanti. It was expectedthat this wedding would shortly take place, as the young manwas received at the banker's as the betrothed. Letters hadbeen despatched to M. Cavalcanti, as the count's father, whohighly approved of the union, regretted his inability toleave Parma at that time, and promised a wedding gift of ahundred and fifty thousand livres. It was agreed that thethree millions should be intrusted to Danglars to invest;some persons had warned the young man of the circumstancesof his future father-in-law, who had of late sustainedrepeated losses; but with sublime disinterestedness andconfidence the young man refused to listen, or to express asingle doubt to the baron. The baron adored Count AndreaCavalcanti: not so Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars. With aninstinctive hatred of matrimony, she suffered Andrea'sattentions in order to get rid of Morcerf; but when Andreaurged his suit, she betrayed an entire dislike to him. Thebaron might possibly have perceived it, but, attributing itto a caprice, feigned ignorance.

The delay demanded by Beauchamp had nearly expired. Morcerfappreciated the advice of Monte Cristo to let things dieaway of their own accord. No one had taken up the remarkabout the general, and no one had recognized in the officerwho betrayed the castle of Yanina the noble count in theHouse of Peers. Albert, however felt no less insulted; thefew lines which had irritated him were certainly intended asan insult. Besides, the manner in which Beauchamp had closedthe conference left a bitter recollection in his heart. Hecherished the thought of the duel, hoping to conceal itstrue cause even from his seconds. Beauchamp had not beenseen since the day he visited Albert, and those of whom thelatter inquired always told him he was out on a journeywhich would detain him some days. Where he was no one knew.

One morning Albert was awakened by his valet de chambre, whoannounced Beauchamp. Albert rubbed his eyes, ordered hisservant to introduce him into the small smoking-room on theground-floor, dressed himself quickly, and went down. Hefound Beauchamp pacing the room; on perceiving him Beauchampstopped. "Your arrival here, without waiting my visit atyour house to-day, looks well, sir," said Albert. "Tell me,may I shake hands with you, saying, `Beauchamp, acknowledgeyou have injured me, and retain my friendship,' or must Isimply propose to you a choice of arms?"

"Albert," said Beauchamp, with a look of sorrow whichstupefied the young man, "let us first sit down and talk."

"Rather, sir, before we sit down, I must demand youranswer."

"Albert," said the journalist, "these are questions which itis difficult to answer."

"I will facilitate it by repeating the question, `Will you,or will you not, retract?'"

"Morcerf, it is not enough to answer `yes' or `no' toquestions which concern the honor, the social interest, andthe life of such a man as Lieutenant-general the Count ofMorcerf, peer of France."

"What must then be done?"

"What I have done, Albert. I reasoned thus - money, time,and fatigue are nothing compared with the reputation andinterests of a whole family; probabilities will not suffice,only facts will justify a deadly combat with a friend. If Istrike with the sword, or discharge the contents of a pistolat man with whom, for three years, I have been on terms ofintimacy, I must, at least, know why I do so; I must meethim with a heart at ease, and that quiet conscience which aman needs when his own arm must save his life."

"Well," said Morcerf, impatiently, "what does all thismean?"

"It means that I have just returned from Yanina."

"From Yanina?"

"Yes."

"Impossible!"

"Here is my passport; examine the visa - Geneva, Milan,Venice, Trieste, Delvino, Yanina. Will you believe thegovernment of a republic, a kingdom, and an empire?" Albertcast his eyes on the passport, then raised them inastonishment to Beauchamp. "You have been to Yanina?" saidhe.

"Albert, had you been a stranger, a foreigner, a simplelord, like that Englishman who came to demand satisfactionthree or four months since, and whom I killed to get rid of,I should not have taken this trouble; but I thought thismark of consideration due to you. I took a week to go,another to return, four days of quarantine, and forty-eighthours to stay there; that makes three weeks. I returned lastnight, and here I am."

"What circumlocution! How long you are before you tell mewhat I most wish to know?"

"Because, in truth, Albert" -

"You hesitate?"

"Yes, - I fear."

"You fear to acknowledge that your correspondent hisdeceived you? Oh, no self-love, Beauchamp. Acknowledge it,Beauchamp; your courage cannot be doubted."

"Not so," murmured the journalist; "on the contrary" -

Albert turned frightfully pale; he endeavored to speak, butthe words died on his lips. "My friend," said Beauchamp, inthe most affectionate tone, "I should gladly make anapology; but, alas," -

"But what?"

"The paragraph was correct, my friend."

"What? That French officer" -

"Yes."

"Fernand?"

"Yes."

"The traitor who surrendered the castle of the man in whoseservice he was" -

"Pardon me, my friend, that man was your father!" Albertadvanced furiously towards Beauchamp, but the latterrestrained him more by a mild look than by his extendedhand.

"My friend," said he, "here is a proof of it."

Albert opened the paper, it was an attestation of fournotable inhabitants of Yanina, proving that Colonel FernandMondego, in the service of Ali Tepelini, had surrendered thecastle for two million crowns. The signatures were perfectlylegal. Albert tottered and fell overpowered in a chair. Itcould no longer be doubted; the family name was fully given.After a moment's mournful silence, his heart overflowed, andhe gave way to a flood of tears. Beauchamp, who had watchedwith sincere pity the young man's paroxysm of grief,approached him. "Now, Albert," said he, "you understand me- do you not? I wished to see all, and to judge ofeverything for myself, hoping the explanation would be inyour father's favor, and that I might do him justice. But,on the contrary, the particulars which are given prove thatFernand Mondego, raised by Ali Pasha to the rank ofgovernor-general, is no other than Count Fernand of Morcerf;then, recollecting the honor you had done me, in admittingme to your friendship, I hastened to you."

Albert, still extended on the chair, covered his face withboth hands, as if to prevent the light from reaching him. "Ihastened to you," continued Beauchamp, "to tell you, Albert,that in this changing age, the faults of a father cannotrevert upon his children. Few have passed through thisrevolutionary period, in the midst of which we were born,without some stain of infamy or blood to soil the uniform ofthe soldier, or the gown of the magistrate. Now I have theseproofs, Albert, and I am in your confidence, no human powercan force me to a duel which your own conscience wouldreproach you with as criminal, but I come to offer you whatyou can no longer demand of me. Do you wish these proofs,these attestations, which I alone possess, to be destroyed?Do you wish this frightful secret to remain with us?Confided to me, it shall never escape my lips; say, Albert,my friend, do you wish it?"

Albert threw himself on Beauchamp's neck. "Ah, noblefellow!" cried he.

"Take these," said Beauchamp, presenting the papers toAlbert.

Albert seized them with a convulsive hand, tore them inpieces, and trembling lest the least vestige should escapeand one day appear to confront him, he approached thewax-light, always kept burning for cigars, and burned everyfragment. "Dear, excellent friend," murmured Albert, stillburning the papers.

"Let all be forgotten as a sorrowful dream," said Beauchamp;"let it vanish as the last sparks from the blackened paper,and disappear as the smoke from those silent ashes."

"Yes, yes," said Albert, "and may there remain only theeternal friendship which I promised to my deliverer, whichshall be transmitted to our children's children, and shallalways remind me that I owe my life and the honor of my nameto you, - for had this been known, oh, Beauchamp, I shouldhave destroyed myself; or, - no, my poor mother! I couldnot have killed her by the same blow, - I should have fledfrom my country."

"Dear Albert," said Beauchamp. But this sudden andfactitious joy soon forsook the young man, and was succeededby a still greater grief.

"Well," said Beauchamp, "what still oppresses you, myfriend?"

"I am broken-hearted," said Albert. "Listen, Beauchamp! Icannot thus, in a moment relinquish the respect, theconfidence, and pride with which a father's untarnished nameinspires a son. Oh, Beauchamp, Beauchamp, how shall I nowapproach mine? Shall I draw back my forehead from hisembrace, or withhold my hand from his? I am the mostwretched of men. Ah, my mother, my poor mother!" saidAlbert, gazing through his tears at his mother's portrait;"if you know this, how much must you suffer!"

"Come," said Beauchamp, taking both his hands, "takecourage, my friend."

"But how came that first note to be inserted in yourjournal? Some unknown enemy - an invisible foe - has donethis."

"The more must you fortify yourself, Albert. Let no trace ofemotion be visible on your countenance, bear your grief asthe cloud bears within it ruin and death - a fatal secret,known only when the storm bursts. Go, my friend, reserveyour strength for the moment when the crash shall come."

"You think, then, all is not over yet?" said Albert,horror-stricken.

"I think nothing, my friend; but all things are possible. Bythe way" -

"What?" said Albert, seeing that Beauchamp hesitated.

"Are you going to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?"

"Why do you ask me now?"

"Because the rupture or fulfilment of this engagement isconnected with the person of whom we were speaking."

"How?" said Albert, whose brow reddened; "you think M.Danglars" -

"I ask you only how your engagement stands? Pray put noconstruction on my words I do not mean they should convey,and give them no undue weight."

"No." said Albert, "the engagement is broken off."

"Well," said Beauchamp. Then, seeing the young man was aboutto relapse into melancholy, "Let us go out, Albert," saidhe; "a ride in the wood in the phaeton, or on horseback,will refresh you; we will then return to breakfast, and youshall attend to your affairs, and I to mine."

"Willingly," said Albert; "but let us walk. I think a littleexertion would do me good." The two friends walked out onthe fortress. When arrived at the Madeleine, - "Since weare out," said Beauchamp, "let us call on M. de MonteCristo; he is admirably adapted to revive one's spirits,because he never interrogates, and in my opinion those whoask no questions are the best comforters."

"Gladly," said Albert; "I love him - let us call."