such a hurry that you have no time to pass the time of day with
your friends?"
"Particularly when they have still a full bottle before them,"
added Danglars. Fernand looked at them both with a stupefied air,
but did not say a word.
"He seems besotted," said Danglars, pushing Caderousse with his
knee. "Are we mistaken, and is Dantes triumphant in spite of all we
have believed?"
"Why, we must inquire into that," was Caderousse's reply; and
turning towards the young man, said, "Well, Catalan, can't you make
up your mind?"
Fernand wiped away the perspiration steaming from his brow, and
slowly entered the arbor, whose shade seemed to restore somewhat of
calmness to his senses, and whose coolness somewhat of refreshment
to his exhausted body.
"Good-day," said he. "You called me, didn't you?" And he fell,
rather than sat down, on one of the seats which surrounded the
table.
"I called you because you were running like a madman, and I was
afraid you would throw yourself into the sea," said Caderousse,
laughing. "Why, when a man has friends, they are not only to offer
him a glass of wine, but, moreover, to prevent his swallowing three
or four pints of water unnecessarily!"
Fernand gave a groan, which resembled a sob, and dropped his
head into his hands, his elbows leaning on the table.
"Well, Fernand, I must say," said Caderousse, beginning the
conversation, with that brutality of the common people in which
curiosity destroys all diplomacy, "you look uncommonly like a
rejected lover;" and he burst into a hoarse laugh.
"Bah!" said Danglars, "a lad of his make was not born to be
unhappy in love. You are laughing at him, Caderousse."
"No," he replied, "only hark how he sighs! Come, come, Fernand,"
said Caderousse, "hold up your head, and answer us. It's not polite
not to reply to friends who ask news of your health."
"My health is well enough," said Fernand, clinching his hands
without raising his head.
"Ah, you see, Danglars," said Caderousse, winking at his friend,without raising his head.
"Ah, you see, Danglars," said Caderousse, winking at his friend,
"this is how it is; Fernand, whom you see here, is a good and brave
Catalan, one of the best fishermen in Marseilles, and he is in love
with a very fine girl, named Mercedes; but it appears,
unfortunately, that the fine girl is in love with the mate of the
Pharaon; and as the Pharaon arrived to-day — why, you
understand!"
"No; I do not understand," said Danglars.
"Poor Fernand has been dismissed," continued Caderousse.
"Well, and what then?" said Fernand, lifting up his head, and
looking at Caderousse like a man who looks for some one on whom to
vent his anger; "Mercedes is not accountable to any person, is she?
Is she not free to love whomsoever she will?"
"Oh, if you take it in that sense," said Caderousse, "it is
another thing. But I thought you were a Catalan, and they told me
the Catalans were not men to allow themselves to be supplanted by a
rival. It was even told me that Fernand, especially, was terrible
in his vengeance."
Fernand smiled piteously. "A lover is never terrible," he
said.
"Poor fellow!" remarked Danglars, affecting to pity the young
man from the bottom of his heart. "Why, you see, he did not expect
to see Dantes return so suddenly — he thought he was dead, perhaps;
or perchance faithless! These things always come on us more
severely when they come suddenly."
"Ah, ma foi, under any circumstances," said Caderousse, who
drank as he spoke, and on whom the fumes of the wine began to take
effect, — "under any circumstances Fernand is not the only person
put out by the fortunate arrival of Dantes; is he, Danglars?"
"No, you are right — and I should say that would bring him
ill-luck."
"Well, never mind," answered Caderousse, pouring out a glass of
wine for Fernand, and filling his own for the eighth or ninth time,
while Danglars had merely sipped his. "Never mind — in the meantime
he marries Mercedes — the lovely Mercedes — at least he returns to
do that."he marries Mercedes — the lovely Mercedes — at least he returns to
do that."
During this time Danglars fixed his piercing glance on the young
man, on whose heart Caderousse's words fell like molten lead.
"And when is the wedding to be?" he asked.
"Oh, it is not yet fixed!" murmured Fernand.
"No, but it will be," said Caderousse, "as surely as Dantes will
be captain of the Pharaon — eh, Danglars?"
Danglars shuddered at this unexpected attack, and turned to
Caderousse, whose countenance he scrutinized, to try and detect
whether the blow was premeditated; but he read nothing but envy in
a countenance already rendered brutal and stupid by
drunkenness.
"Well," said he, filling the glasses, "let us drink to Captain
Edmond Dantes, husband of the beautiful Catalane!"
Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with unsteady hand, and
swallowed the contents at a gulp. Fernand dashed his on the
ground.
"Eh, eh, eh!" stammered Caderousse. "What do I see down there by
the wall, in the direction of the Catalans? Look, Fernand, your
eyes are better than mine. I believe I see double. You know wine is
a deceiver; but I should say it was two lovers walking side by
side, and hand in hand. Heaven forgive me, they do not know that we
can see them, and they are actually embracing!"
Danglars did not lose one pang that Fernand endured.
"Do you know them, Fernand?" he said.
"Yes," was the reply, in a low voice. "It is Edmond and
Mercedes!"
"Ah, see there, now!" said Caderousse; "and I did not recognize
them! Hallo, Dantes! hello, lovely damsel! Come this way, and let
us know when the wedding is to be, for Fernand here is so obstinate
he will not tell us."
"Hold your tongue, will you?" said Danglars, pretending to
restrain Caderousse, who, with the tenacity of drunkards, leaned
out of the arbor. "Try to stand upright, and let the lovers make
love without interruption. See, look at Fernand, and follow his
example; he is well-behaved!"
Fernand, probably excited beyond bearing, pricked by Danglars,