"What has become of Danglars, the instigator, and therefore the
most guilty?"
"What has become of him? Why, he left Marseilles, and was taken,
on the recommendation of M. Morrel, who did not know his crime, as
cashier into a Spanish bank. During the war with Spain he was
employed in the commissariat of the French army, and made a
fortune; then with that money he speculated in the funds, and
trebled or quadrupled his capital; and, having first married his
banker's daughter, who left him a widower, he has married a second
time, a widow, a Madame de Nargonne, daughter of M. de Servieux,
the king's chamberlain, who is in high favor at court. He is a
millionaire, and they have made him a baron, and now he is the
Baron Danglars, with a fine residence in the Rue de Mont-Blanc,
with ten horses in his stables, six footmen in his ante-chamber,
and I know not how many millions in his strongbox."
"Ah!" said the abbe, in a peculiar tone, "he is happy."
"Happy? Who can answer for that? Happiness or unhappiness is the
secret known but to one's self and the walls — walls have ears but
no tongue; but if a large fortune produces happiness, Danglars is
happy."
"And Fernand?"
"Fernand? Why, much the same story."
"But how could a poor Catalan fisher-boy, without education or
resources, make a fortune? I confess this staggers me."
"And it has staggered everybody. There must have been in his
life some strange secret that no one knows."
"But, then, by what visible steps has he attained this high
fortune or high position?"
"Both, sir — he has both fortune and position — both."
"This must be impossible!"
"It would seem so; but listen, and you will understand. Some
days before the return of the emperor, Fernand was drafted. The
Bourbons left him quietly enough at the Catalans, but Napoleon
returned, a special levy was made, and Fernand was compelled to
join. I went too; but as I was older than Fernand, and had just
married my poor wife, I was only sent to the coast. Fernand was
enrolled in the active troop, went to the frontier with hisenrolled in the active troop, went to the frontier with his
regiment, and was at the battle of Ligny. The night after that
battle he was sentry at the door of a general who carried on a
secret correspondence with the enemy. That same night the general
was to go over to the English. He proposed to Fernand to accompany
him; Fernand agreed to do so, deserted his post, and followed the
general. Fernand would have been court-martialed if Napoleon had
remained on the throne, but his action was rewarded by the
Bourbons. He returned to France with the epaulet of sub-lieutenant,
and as the protection of the general, who is in the highest favor,
was accorded to him, he was a captain in 1823, during the Spanish
war — that is to say, at the time when Danglars made his early
speculations. Fernand was a Spaniard, and being sent to Spain to
ascertain the feeling of his fellow-countrymen, found Danglars
there, got on very intimate terms with him, won over the support of
the royalists at the capital and in the provinces, received
promises and made pledges on his own part, guided his regiment by
paths known to himself alone through the mountain gorges which were
held by the royalists, and, in fact, rendered such services in this
brief campaign that, after the taking of Trocadero, he was made
colonel, and received the title of count and the cross of an
officer of the Legion of Honor."
"Destiny! destiny!" murmured the abbe.
"Yes, but listen: this was not all. The war with Spain being
ended, Fernand's career was checked by the long peace which seemed
likely to endure throughout Europe. Greece only had risen against
Turkey, and had begun her war of independence; all eyes were turned
towards Athens — it was the fashion to pity and support the Greeks.
The French government, without protecting them openly, as you know,
gave countenance to volunteer assistance. Fernand sought and
obtained leave to go and serve in Greece, still having his name
kept on the army roll. Some time after, it was stated that thekept on the army roll. Some time after, it was stated that the
Comte de Morcerf (this was the name he bore) had entered the
service of Ali Pasha with the rank of instructor-general. Ali Pasha
was killed, as you know, but before he died he recompensed the
services of Fernand by leaving him a considerable sum, with which
he returned to France, when he was gazetted
lieutenant-general."
"So that now?" — inquired the abbe.
"So that now," continued Caderousse, "he owns a magnificent
house — No. 27, Rue du Helder, Paris." The abbe opened his mouth,
hesitated for a moment, then, making an effort at self-control, he
said, "And Mercedes — they tell me that she has disappeared?"
"Disappeared," said Caderousse, "yes, as the sun disappears, to
rise the next day with still more splendor."
"Has she made a fortune also?" inquired the abbe, with an
ironical smile.
"Mercedes is at this moment one of the greatest ladies in
Paris," replied Caderousse.
"Go on," said the abbe; "it seems as if I were listening to the
story of a dream. But I have seen things so extraordinary, that
what you tell me seems less astonishing than it otherwise
might."
"Mercedes was at first in the deepest despair at the blow which
deprived her of Edmond. I have told you of her attempts to
propitiate M. de Villefort, her devotion to the elder Dantes. In
the midst of her despair, a new affliction overtook her. This was
the departure of Fernand — of Fernand, whose crime she did not
know, and whom she regarded as her brother. Fernand went, and
Mercedes remained alone. Three months passed and still she wept —
no news of Edmond, no news of Fernand, no companionship save that
of an old man who was dying with despair. One evening, after a day
of accustomed vigil at the angle of two roads leading to Marseilles
from the Catalans, she returned to her home more depressed than
ever. Suddenly she heard a step she knew, turned anxiously around,
the door opened, and Fernand, dressed in the uniform of a
sub-lieutenant, stood before her. It was not the one she wished for