Meanwhile Monte Cristo had also returned to town withEmmanuel and Maximilian. Their return was cheerful. Emmanueldid not conceal his joy at the peaceful termination of theaffair, and was loud in his expressions of delight. Morrel,in a corner of the carriage, allowed his brother-in-law'sgayety to expend itself in words, while he felt equal inwardjoy, which, however, betrayed itself only in hiscountenance. At the Barriere du Trone they met Bertuccio,who was waiting there, motionless as a sentinel at his post.Monte Cristo put his head out of the window, exchanged a fewwords with him in a low tone, and the steward disappeared."Count," said Emmanuel, when they were at the end of thePlace Royale, "put me down at my door, that my wife may nothave a single moment of needless anxiety on my account oryours."

"If it were not ridiculous to make a display of our triumph,I would invite the count to our house; besides that, hedoubtless has some trembling heart to comfort. So we willtake leave of our friend, and let him hasten home."

"Stop a moment," said Monte Cristo; "do not let me lose bothmy companions. Return, Emmanuel, to your charming wife, andpresent my best compliments to her; and do you, Morrel,accompany me to the Champs Elysees."

"Willingly," said Maximilian; "particularly as I havebusiness in that quarter."

"Shall we wait breakfast for you?" asked Emmanuel.

"No," replied the young man. The door was closed, and thecarriage proceeded. "See what good fortune I brought you!"said Morrel, when he was alone with the count. "Have you notthought so?"

"Yes," said Monte Cristo; "for that reason I wished to keepyou near me."

"It is miraculous!" continued Morrel, answering his ownthoughts.

"What?" said Monte Cristo.

"What has just happened."

"Yes," said the Count, "you are right - it is miraculous."

"For Albert is brave," resumed Morrel.

"Very brave," said Monte Cristo; "I have seen him sleep witha sword suspended over his head."

"And I know he has fought two duels," said Morrel. "How canyou reconcile that with his conduct this morning?"

"All owing to your influence," replied Monte Cristo,smiling.

"It is well for Albert he is not in the army," said Morrel.

"Why?"

"An apology on the ground!" said the young captain, shakinghis head.

"Come," said the count mildly, "do not entertain theprejudices of ordinary men, Morrel! Acknowledge, that ifAlbert is brave, he cannot be a coward; he must then havehad some reason for acting as he did this morning, andconfess that his conduct is more heroic than otherwise."

"Doubtless, doubtless," said Morrel; "but I shall say, likethe Spaniard, `He has not been so brave to-day as he wasyesterday.'"

"You will breakfast with me, will you not, Morrel?" said thecount, to turn the conversation.

"No; I must leave you at ten o'clock."

"Your engagement was for breakfast, then?" said the count.

Morrel smiled, and shook his head. "Still you must breakfastsomewhere."

"But if I am not hungry?" said the young man.

"Oh," said the count, "I only know two things which destroythe appetite, - grief - and as I am happy to see you verycheerful, it is not that - and love. Now after what youtold me this morning of your heart, I may believe" -

"Well, count," replied Morrel gayly, "I will not disputeit."

"But you will not make me your confidant, Maximilian?" saidthe count, in a tone which showed how gladly he would havebeen admitted to the secret.

"I showed you this morning that I had a heart, did I not,count?" Monte Cristo only answered by extending his hand tothe young man. "Well," continued the latter, "since thatheart is no longer with you in the Bois de Vincennes, it iselsewhere, and I must go and find it."

"Go," said the count deliberately; "go, dear friend, butpromise me if you meet with any obstacle to remember that Ihave some power in this world, that I am happy to use thatpower in the behalf of those I love, and that I love you,Morrel."

"I will remember it," said the young man, "as selfishchildren recollect their parents when they want their aid.When I need your assistance, and the moment arrives, I willcome to you, count."

"Well, I rely upon your promise. Good-by, then."

"Good-by, till we meet again." They had arrived in theChamps Elysees. Monte Cristo opened the carriage-door,Morrel sprang out on the pavement, Bertuccio was waiting onthe steps. Morrel disappeared down the Avenue de Marigny,and Monte Cristo hastened to join Bertuccio.

"Well?" asked he.

"She is going to leave her house," said the steward.

"And her son?"

"Florentin, his valet, thinks he is going to do the same."

"Come this way." Monte Cristo took Bertuccio into his study,wrote the letter we have seen, and gave it to the steward."Go," said he quickly. "But first, let Haidee be informedthat I have returned."

"Here I am," said the young girl, who at the sound of thecarriage had run down-stairs and whose face was radiant withjoy at seeing the count return safely. Bertuccio left. Everytransport of a daughter finding a father, all the delight ofa mistress seeing an adored lover, were felt by Haideeduring the first moments of this meeting, which she had soeagerly expected. Doubtless, although less evident, MonteCristo's joy was not less intense. Joy to hearts which havesuffered long is like the dew on the ground after a longdrought; both the heart and the ground absorb thatbenificent moisture falling on them, and nothing isoutwardly apparent.

Monte Cristo was beginning to think, what he had not for along time dared to believe, that there were two Mercedes inthe world, and he might yet be happy. His eye, elate withhappiness, was reading eagerly the tearful gaze of Haidee,when suddenly the door opened. The count knit his brow. "M.de Morcerf!" said Baptistin, as if that name sufficed forhis excuse. In fact, the count's face brightened.

"Which," asked he, "the viscount or the count?"

"The count."

"Oh," exclaimed Haidee, "is it not yet over?"

"I know not if it is finished, my beloved child," said MonteCristo, taking the young girl's hands; "but I do know youhave nothing more to fear."

"But it is the wretched" -

"That man cannot injure me, Haidee," said Monte Cristo; "itwas his son alone that there was cause to fear."

"And what I have suffered," said the young girl, "you shallnever know, my lord." Monte Cristo smiled. "By my father'stomb," said he, extending his hand over the head of theyoung girl, "I swear to you, Haidee, that if any misfortunehappens, it will not be to me."

"I believe you, my lord, as implicitly as if God had spokento me," said the young girl, presenting her forehead to him.Monte Cristo pressed on that pure beautiful forehead a kisswhich made two hearts throb at once, the one violently, theother heavily. "Oh," murmured the count, "shall I then bepermitted to love again? Ask M. de Morcerf into thedrawing-room," said he to Baptistin, while he led thebeautiful Greek girl to a private staircase.

We must explain this visit, which although expected by MonteCristo, is unexpected to our readers. While Mercedes, as wehave said, was making a similar inventory of her property toAlbert's, while she was arranging her jewels, shutting herdrawers, collecting her keys, to leave everything in perfectorder, she did not perceive a pale and sinister face at aglass door which threw light into the passage, from whicheverything could be both seen and heard. He who was thuslooking, without being heard or seen, probably heard and sawall that passed in Madame de Morcerf's apartments. From thatglass door the pale-faced man went to the count's bedroomand raised with a constricted hand the curtain of a windowoverlooking the court-yard. He remained there ten minutes,motionless and dumb, listening to the beating of his ownheart. For him those ten minutes were very long. It was thenAlbert, returning from his meeting with the count, perceivedhis father watching for his arrival behind a curtain, andturned aside. The count's eye expanded; he knew Albert hadinsulted the count dreadfully, and that in every country inthe world such an insult would lead to a deadly duel. Albertreturned safely - then the count was revenged.

An indescribable ray of joy illumined that wretchedcountenance like the last ray of the sun before itdisappears behind the clouds which bear the aspect, not of adowny couch, but of a tomb. But as we have said, he waitedin vain for his son to come to his apartment with theaccount of his triumph. He easily understood why his son didnot come to see him before he went to avenge his father'shonor; but when that was done, why did not his son come andthrow himself into his arms?

It was then, when the count could not see Albert, that hesent for his servant, who he knew was authorized not toconceal anything from him. Ten minutes afterwards, GeneralMorcerf was seen on the steps in a black coat with amilitary collar, black pantaloons, and black gloves. He hadapparently given previous orders, for as he reached thebottom step his carriage came from the coach-house ready forhim. The valet threw into the carriage his military cloak,in which two swords were wrapped, and, shutting the door, hetook his seat by the side of the coachman. The coachmanstooped down for his orders.

"To the Champs Elysees," said the general; "the Count ofMonte Cristo's. Hurry!" The horses bounded beneath the whip;and in five minutes they stopped before the count's door. M.de Morcerf opened the door himself, and as the carriagerolled away he passed up the walk, rang, and entered theopen door with his servant.

A moment afterwards, Baptistin announced the Count ofMorcerf to Monte Cristo, and the latter, leading Haideeaside, ordered that Morcerf be asked into the drawing-room.The general was pacing the room the third time when, inturning, he perceived Monte Cristo at the door. "Ah, it isM. de Morcerf," said Monte Cristo quietly; "I thought I hadnot heard aright."

"Yes, it is I," said the count, whom a frightful contractionof the lips prevented from articulating freely.

"May I know the cause which procures me the pleasure ofseeing M. de Morcerf so early?"

"Had you not a meeting with my son this morning?" asked thegeneral.

"I had," replied the count.

"And I know my son had good reasons to wish to fight withyou, and to endeavor to kill you."

"Yes, sir, he had very good ones; but you see that in spiteof them he has not killed me, and did not even fight."

"Yet he considered you the cause of his father's dishonor,the cause of the fearful ruin which has fallen on my house."

"It is true, sir," said Monte Cristo with his dreadfulcalmness; "a secondary cause, but not the principal."

"Doubtless you made, then, some apology or explanation?"

"I explained nothing, and it is he who apologized to me."

"But to what do you attribute this conduct?"

"To the conviction, probably, that there was one more guiltythan I."

"And who was that?"

"His father."

"That may be," said the count, turning pale; "but you knowthe guilty do not like to find themselves convicted."

"I know it, and I expected this result."

"You expected my son would be a coward?" cried the count.

"M. Albert de Morcerf is no coward!" said Monte Cristo.

"A man who holds a sword in his hand, and sees a mortalenemy within reach of that sword, and does not fight, is acoward! Why is he not here that I may tell him so?"

"Sir." replied Monte Cristo coldly, "I did not expect thatyou had come here to relate to me your little familyaffairs. Go and tell M. Albert that, and he may know what toanswer you."

"Oh, no, no," said the general, smiling faintly, "I did notcome for that purpose; you are right. I came to tell youthat I also look upon you as my enemy. I came to tell youthat I hate you instinctively; that it seems as if I hadalways known you, and always hated you; and, in short, sincethe young people of the present day will not fight, itremains for us to do so. Do you think so, sir?"

"Certainly. And when I told you I had foreseen the result,it is the honor of your visit I alluded to."

"So much the better. Are you prepared?"

"Yes, sir."

"You know that we shall fight till one of us is dead," saidthe general, whose teeth were clinched with rage. "Until oneof us dies," repeated Monte Cristo, moving his head slightlyup and down.

"Let us start, then; we need no witnesses."

"Very true," said Monte Cristo; "it is unnecessary, we knoweach other so well!"

"On the contrary," said the count, "we know so little ofeach other."

"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo, with the same indomitablecoolness; "let us see. Are you not the soldier Fernand whodeserted on the eve of the battle of Waterloo? Are you notthe Lieutenant Fernand who served as guide and spy to theFrench army in Spain? Are you not the Captain Fernand whobetrayed, sold, and murdered his benefactor, Ali? And havenot all these Fernands, united, made Lieutenant-General, theCount of Morcerf, peer of France?"

"Oh," cried the general, as it branded with a hot iron,"wretch, - to reproach me with my shame when about,perhaps, to kill me! No, I did not say I was a stranger toyou. I know well, demon, that you have penetrated into thedarkness of the past, and that you have read, by the lightof what torch I know not, every page of my life; but perhapsI may be more honorable in my shame than you under yourpompous coverings. No - no, I am aware you know me; but Iknow you only as an adventurer sewn up in gold andjewellery. You call yourself in Paris the Count of MonteCristo; in Italy, Sinbad the Sailor; in Malta, I forgetwhat. But it is your real name I want to know, in the midstof your hundred names, that I may pronounce it when we meetto fight, at the moment when I plunge my sword through yourheart."

The Count of Monte Cristo turned dreadfully pale; his eyeseemed to burn with a devouring fire. He leaped towards adressing-room near his bedroom, and in less than a moment,tearing off his cravat, his coat and waistcoat, he put on asailor's jacket and hat, from beneath which rolled his longblack hair. He returned thus, formidable and implacable,advancing with his arms crossed on his breast, towards thegeneral, who could not understand why he had disappeared,but who on seeing him again, and feeling his teeth chatterand his legs sink under him, drew back, and only stoppedwhen he found a table to support his clinched hand."Fernand," cried he, "of my hundred names I need only tellyou one, to overwhelm you! But you guess it now, do you not?- or, rather, you remember it? For, notwithstanding all mysorrows and my tortures, I show you to-day a face which thehappiness of revenge makes young again - a face you mustoften have seen in your dreams since your marriage withMercedes, my betrothed!"

The general, with his head thrown back, hands extended, gazefixed, looked silently at this dreadful apparition; thenseeking the wall to support him, he glided along close to ituntil he reached the door, through which he went outbackwards, uttering this single mournful, lamentable,distressing cry, - "Edmond Dantes!" Then, with sighs whichwere unlike any human sound, he dragged himself to the door,reeled across the court-yard, and falling into the arms ofhis valet, he said in a voice scarcely intelligible, - "Home, home." The fresh air and the shame he felt at havingexposed himself before his servants, partly recalled hissenses, but the ride was short, and as he drew near hishouse all his wretchedness revived. He stopped at a shortdistance from the house and alighted.

The door was wide open, a hackney-coach was standing in themiddle of the yard - a strange sight before so noble amansion; the count looked at it with terror, but withoutdaring to inquire its meaning, he rushed towards hisapartment. Two persons were coming down the stairs; he hadonly time to creep into an alcove to avoid them. It wasMercedes leaning on her son's arm and leaving the house.They passed close by the unhappy being, who, concealedbehind the damask curtain, almost felt Mercedes dress brushpast him, and his son's warm breath, pronouncing thesewords, - "Courage, mother! Come, this is no longer ourhome!" The words died away, the steps were lost in thedistance. The general drew himself up, clinging to thecurtain; he uttered the most dreadful sob which ever escapedfrom the bosom of a father abandoned at the same time by hiswife and son. He soon heard the clatter of the iron step ofthe hackney-coach, then the coachman's voice, and then therolling of the heavy vehicle shook the windows. He darted tohis bedroom to see once more all he had loved in the world;but the hackney-coach drove on and the head of neitherMercedes nor her son appeared at the window to take a lastlook at the house or the deserted father and husband. And atthe very moment when the wheels of that coach crossed thegateway a report was heard, and a thick smoke escapedthrough one of the panes of the window, which was broken bythe explosion.