The Count of Monte Cristo bowed to the five young men with amelancholy and dignified smile, and got into his carriagewith Maximilian and Emmanuel. Albert, Beauchamp, andChateau-Renaud remained alone. Albert looked at his twofriends, not timidly, but in a way that appeared to asktheir opinion of what he had just done.

"Indeed, my dear friend," said Beauchamp first, who hadeither the most feeling or the least dissimulation, "allowme to congratulate you; this is a very unhoped-forconclusion of a very disagreeable affair."

Albert remained silent and wrapped in thought.Chateau-Renaud contented himself with tapping his boot withhis flexible cane. "Are we not going?" said he, after thisembarrassing silence. "When you please," replied Beauchamp;"allow me only to compliment M. de Morcerf, who has givenproof to-day of rare chivalric generosity."

"Oh, yes," said Chateau-Renaud.

"It is magnificent," continued Beauchamp, "to be able toexercise so much self-control!"

"Assuredly; as for me, I should have been incapable of it,"said Chateau-Renaud, with most significant coolness.

"Gentlemen," interrupted Albert, "I think you did notunderstand that something very serious had passed between M.de Monte Cristo and myself."

"Possibly, possibly," said Beauchamp immediately; "but everysimpleton would not be able to understand your heroism, andsooner or later you will find yourself compelled to explainit to them more energetically than would be convenient toyour bodily health and the duration of your life. May I giveyou a friendly counsel? Set out for Naples, the Hague, orSt. Petersburg - calm countries, where the point of honoris better understood than among our hot-headed Parisians.Seek quietude and oblivion, so that you may return peaceablyto France after a few years. Am I not right, M. deChateau-Renaud?"

"That is quite my opinion," said the gentleman; "nothinginduces serious duels so much as a duel forsworn."

"Thank you, gentlemen," replied Albert, with a smile ofindifference; "I shall follow your advice - not because yougive it, but because I had before intended to quit France. Ithank you equally for the service you have rendered me inbeing my seconds. It is deeply engraved on my heart, and,after what you have just said, I remember that only."Chateau-Renaud and Beauchamp looked at each other; theimpression was the same on both of them, and the tone inwhich Morcerf had just expressed his thanks was sodetermined that the position would have become embarrassingfor all if the conversation had continued.

"Good-by, Albert," said Beauchamp suddenly, carelesslyextending his hand to the young man. The latter did notappear to arouse from his lethargy; in fact, he did notnotice the offered hand. "Good-by," said Chateau-Renaud inhis turn, keeping his little cane in his left hand, andsaluting with his right. Albert's lips scarcely whispered"Good-by," but his look was more explicit; it expressed awhole poem of restrained anger, proud disdain, and generousindignation. He preserved his melancholy and motionlessposition for some time after his two friends had regainedtheir carriage; then suddenly unfastening his horse from thelittle tree to which his servant had tied it, he mounted andgalloped off in the direction of Paris.

In a quarter of an hour he was entering the house in the Ruedu Helder. As he alighted, he thought he saw his father'spale face behind the curtain of the count's bedroom. Albertturned away his head with a sigh, and went to his ownapartments. He cast one lingering look on all the luxurieswhich had rendered life so easy and so happy since hisinfancy; he looked at the pictures, whose faces seemed tosmile, and the landscapes, which appeared painted inbrighter colors. Then he took away his mother's portrait,with its oaken frame, leaving the gilt frame from which hetook it black and empty. Then he arranged all his beautifulTurkish arms, his fine English guns, his Japanese china, hiscups mounted in silver, his artistic bronzes by Feucheresand Barye; examined the cupboards, and placed the key ineach; threw into a drawer of his secretary, which he leftopen, all the pocket-money he had about him, and with it thethousand fancy jewels from his vases and his jewel-boxes;then he made an exact inventory of everything, and placed itin the most conspicuous part of the table, after puttingaside the books and papers which had collected there.

At the beginning of this work, his servant, notwithstandingorders to the contrary, came to his room. "What do youwant?" asked he, with a more sorrowful than angry tone."Pardon me, sir," replied the valet; "you had forbidden meto disturb you, but the Count of Morcerf has called me."

"Well!" said Albert.

"I did not like to go to him without first seeing you."

"Why?"

"Because the count is doubtless aware that I accompanied youto the meeting this morning."

"It is probable," said Albert.

"And since he has sent for me, it is doubtless to questionme on what happened there. What must I answer?"

"The truth."

"Then I shall say the duel did not take place?"

"You will say I apologized to the Count of Monte Cristo.Go."

The valet bowed and retired, and Albert returned to hisinventory. As he was finishing this work, the sound ofhorses prancing in the yard, and the wheels of a carriageshaking his window, attracted his attention. He approachedthe window, and saw his father get into it, and drive away.The door was scarcely closed when Albert bent his steps tohis mother's room; and, no one being there to announce him,he advanced to her bed-chamber, and distressed by what hesaw and guessed, stopped for one moment at the door. As ifthe same idea had animated these two beings, Mercedes wasdoing the same in her apartments that he had just done inhis. Everything was in order, - laces, dresses, jewels,linen, money, all were arranged in the drawers, and thecountess was carefully collecting the keys. Albert saw allthese preparations and understood them, and exclaiming, "Mymother!" he threw his arms around her neck.

The artist who could have depicted the expression of thesetwo countenances would certainly have made of them abeautiful picture. All these proofs of an energeticresolution, which Albert did not fear on his own account,alarmed him for his mother. "What are you doing?" asked he.

"What were you doing?" replied she.

"Oh, my mother!" exclaimed Albert, so overcome he couldscarcely speak; "it is not the same with you and me - youcannot have made the same resolution I have, for I have cometo warn you that I bid adieu to your house, and - and toyou."

"I also," replied Mercedes, "am going, and I acknowledge Ihad depended on your accompanying me; have I deceivedmyself?"

"Mother," said Albert with firmness. "I cannot make youshare the fate I have planned for myself. I must livehenceforth without rank and fortune, and to begin this hardapprenticeship I must borrow from a friend the loaf I shalleat until I have earned one. So, my dear mother, I am goingat once to ask Franz to lend me the small sum I shallrequire to supply my present wants."

"You, my poor child, suffer poverty and hunger? Oh, do notsay so; it will break my resolutions."

"But not mine, mother," replied Albert. "I am young andstrong; I believe I am courageous, and since yesterday Ihave learned the power of will. Alas, my dear mother, somehave suffered so much, and yet live, and have raised a newfortune on the ruin of all the promises of happiness whichheaven had made them - on the fragments of all the hopewhich God had given them! I have seen that, mother; I knowthat from the gulf in which their enemies have plunged themthey have risen with so much vigor and glory that in theirturn they have ruled their former conquerors, and havepunished them. No. mother; from this moment I have done withthe past, and accept nothing from it - not even a name,because you can understand that your son cannot bear thename of a man who ought to blush for it before another."

"Albert, my child," said Mercedes, "if I had a strongerheart that is the counsel I would have given you; yourconscience has spoken when my voice became too weak; listento its dictates. You had friends, Albert; break off theiracquaintance. But do not despair; you have life before you,my dear Albert, for you are yet scarcely twenty-two yearsold; and as a pure heart like yours wants a spotless name,take my father's - it was Herrera. I am sure, my dearAlbert, whatever may be your career, you will soon renderthat name illustrious. Then, my son, return to the worldstill more brilliant because of your former sorrows; and ifI am wrong, still let me cherish these hopes, for I have nofuture to look forward to. For me the grave opens when Ipass the threshold of this house."

"I will fulfil all your wishes, my dear mother," said theyoung man. "Yes, I share your hopes; the anger of heavenwill not pursue us, since you are pure and I am innocent.But, since our resolution is formed, let us act promptly. M.de Morcerf went out about half an hour ago; the opportunityin favorable to avoid an explanation."

"I am ready, my son," said Mercedes. Albert ran to fetch acarriage. He recollected that there was a small furnishedhouse to let in the Rue de Saints Peres, where his motherwould find a humble but decent lodging, and thither heintended conducting the countess. As the carriage stopped atthe door, and Albert was alighting, a man approached andgave him a letter. Albert recognized the bearer. "From thecount," said Bertuccio. Albert took the letter, opened, andread it, then looked round for Bertuccio, but he was gone.He returned to Mercedes with tears in his eyes and heavingbreast, and without uttering a word he gave her the letter.Mercedes read: -

Albert, - While showing you that I have discovered yourplans, I hope also to convince you of my delicacy. You arefree, you leave the count's house, and you take your motherto your home; but reflect, Albert, you owe her more thanyour poor noble heart can pay her. Keep the struggle foryourself, bear all the suffering, but spare her the trial ofpoverty which must accompany your first efforts; for shedeserves not even the shadow of the misfortune which hasthis day fallen on her, and providence is not willing thatthe innocent should suffer for the guilty. I know you aregoing to leave the Rue du Helder without taking anythingwith you. Do not seek to know how I discovered it; I know it- that is sufficient.

Now, listen, Albert. Twenty-four years ago I returned, proudand joyful, to my country. I had a betrothed, Albert, alovely girl whom I adored, and I was bringing to mybetrothed a hundred and fifty louis, painfully amassed byceaseless toil. This money was for her; I destined it forher, and, knowing the treachery of the sea I buried ourtreasure in the little garden of the house my father livedin at Marseilles, on the Allees de Meillan. Your mother,Albert, knows that poor house well. A short time since Ipassed through Marseilles, and went to see the old place,which revived so many painful recollections; and in theevening I took a spade and dug in the corner of the gardenwhere I had concealed my treasure. The iron box was there - no one had touched it - under a beautiful fig-tree myfather had planted the day I was born, which overshadowedthe spot. Well, Albert, this money, which was formerlydesigned to promote the comfort and tranquillity of thewoman I adored, may now, through strange and painfulcircumstances, be devoted to the same purpose. Oh, feel forme, who could offer millions to that poor woman, but whoreturn her only the piece of black bread forgotten under mypoor roof since the day I was torn from her I loved. You area generous man, Albert, but perhaps you may be blinded bypride or resentment; if you refuse me, if you ask anotherfor what I have a right to offer you, I will say it isungenerous of you to refuse the life of your mother at thehands of a man whose father was allowed by your father todie in all the horrors of poverty and despair.

Albert stood pale and motionless to hear what his motherwould decide after she had finished reading this letter.Mercedes turned her eyes with an ineffable look towardsheaven. "I accept it," said she; "he has a right to pay thedowry, which I shall take with me to some convent!" Puttingthe letter in her bosom, she took her son's arm, and with afirmer step than she even herself expected she wentdown-stairs.