they have ruled their former conquerors, and have punished them.
No. mother; from this moment I have done with the past, and accept
nothing from it — not even a name, because you can understand that
your son cannot bear the name of a man who ought to blush for it
before another."
"Albert, my child," said Mercedes, "if I had a stronger heart
that is the counsel I would have given you; your conscience has
spoken when my voice became too weak; listen to its dictates. You
had friends, Albert; break off their acquaintance. But do not
despair; you have life before you, my dear Albert, for you are yet
scarcely twenty-two years old; and as a pure heart like yours wants
a spotless name, take my father's — it was Herrera. I am sure, my
dear Albert, whatever may be your career, you will soon render that
name illustrious. Then, my son, return to the world still more
brilliant because of your former sorrows; and if I am wrong, still
let me cherish these hopes, for I have no future to look forward
to. For me the grave opens when I pass the threshold of this
house."
"I will fulfil all your wishes, my dear mother," said the young
man. "Yes, I share your hopes; the anger of heaven will 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 opportunity is favorable to avoid an
explanation."
"I am ready, my son," said Mercedes. Albert ran to fetch a
carriage. He recollected that there was a small furnished house to
let in the Rue de Saints Peres, where his mother would find a
humble but decent lodging, and thither he intended conducting the
countess. As the carriage stopped at the door, and Albert was
alighting, a man approached and gave him a letter. Albert
recognized the bearer. "From the count," said Bertuccio. Albert
took the letter, opened, and read it, then looked round for
Bertuccio, but he was gone. He returned to Mercedes with tears in
his eyes and heaving breast, and without uttering a word he gavehis eyes and heaving breast, and without uttering a word he gave
her the letter. Mercedes read: —
Albert, — While showing you that I have discovered your plans, I
hope also to convince you of my delicacy. You are free, you leave
the count's house, and you take your mother to your home; but
reflect, Albert, you owe her more than your poor noble heart can
pay her. Keep the struggle for yourself, bear all the suffering,
but spare her the trial of poverty which must accompany your first
efforts; for she deserves not even the shadow of the misfortune
which has this day fallen on her, and providence is not willing
that the innocent should suffer for the guilty. I know you are
going to leave the Rue du Helder without taking anything with 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, proud and
joyful, to my country. I had a betrothed, Albert, a lovely girl
whom I adored, and I was bringing to my betrothed a hundred and
fifty louis, painfully amassed by ceaseless toil. This money was
for her; I destined it for her, and, knowing the treachery of the
sea I buried our treasure in the little garden of the house my
father lived in at Marseilles, on the Allees de Meillan. Your
mother, Albert, knows that poor house well. A short time since I
passed through Marseilles, and went to see the old place, which
revived so many painful recollections; and in the evening I took a
spade and dug in the corner of the garden where I had concealed my
treasure. The iron box was there — no one had touched it — under a
beautiful fig-tree my father had planted the day I was born, which
overshadowed the spot. Well, Albert, this money, which was formerly
designed to promote the comfort and tranquillity of the woman I
adored, may now, through strange and painful circumstances, be
devoted to the same purpose. Oh, feel for me, who could offer
millions to that poor woman, but who return her only the piece ofmillions to that poor woman, but who return her only the piece of
black bread forgotten under my poor roof since the day I was torn
from her I loved. You are a generous man, Albert, but perhaps you
may be blinded by pride or resentment; if you refuse me, if you ask
another for what I have a right to offer you, I will say it is
ungenerous of you to refuse the life of your mother at the hands of
a man whose father was allowed by your father to die in all the
horrors of poverty and despair.
Albert stood pale and motionless to hear what his mother would
decide after she had finished reading this letter. Mercedes turned
her eyes with an ineffable look towards heaven. "I accept it," said
she; "he has a right to pay the dowry, which I shall take with me
to some convent!" Putting the letter in her bosom, she took her
son's arm, and with a firmer step than she even herself expected
she went down-stairs.Meanwhile Monte Cristo had also returned to town with Emmanuel
and Maximilian. Their return was cheerful. Emmanuel did not conceal
his joy at the peaceful termination of the affair, and was loud in
his expressions of delight. Morrel, in a corner of the carriage,
allowed his brother-in-law's gayety to expend itself in words,
while he felt equal inward joy, which, however, betrayed itself
only in his countenance. 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 few
words with him in a low tone, and the steward disappeared. "Count,"
said Emmanuel, when they were at the end of the Place Royale, "put
me down at my door, that my wife may not have a single moment of
needless anxiety on my account or yours."
"If it were not ridiculous to make a display of our triumph, I
would invite the count to our house; besides that, he doubtless has
some trembling heart to comfort. So we will take leave of our
friend, and let him hasten home."
"Stop a moment," said Monte Cristo; "do not let me lose both my
companions. Return, Emmanuel, to your charming wife, and present my
best compliments to her; and do you, Morrel, accompany me to the
Champs Elysees."
"Willingly," said Maximilian; "particularly as I have business
in that quarter."
"Shall we wait breakfast for you?" asked Emmanuel.
"No," replied the young man. The door was closed, and the
carriage proceeded. "See what good fortune I brought you!" said
Morrel, when he was alone with the count. "Have you not thought
so?"
"Yes," said Monte Cristo; "for that reason I wished to keep you
near me."
"It is miraculous!" continued Morrel, answering his own
thoughts.
"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 with a
sword suspended over his head."
"And I know he has fought two duels," said Morrel. "How can you