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"Never mind that, Maximilian," said Monte Cristo, smiling. "I have made an agreement with the navy, that the access to my island shall be free of all charge. I have made a bargain." Morrel looked at the count with surprise. "Count," he said, "you are not the same here as in Paris." "How so?" "Here you laugh." The count's brow became clouded.
But Monte Cristo looked at him with so melancholy and sweet a smile, that Maximilian felt the tears filling his eyes. "I can do much for you, my friend," replied the count. "Go; I must be alone." Morrel, subdued by the extraordinary ascendancy Monte Cristo exercised over everything around him, did not endeavor to resist it. He pressed the count's hand and left.
Most probably Morrel and Chateau-Renaud returned to their "domestic hearths," as they say in the gallery of the Chamber in well-turned speeches, and in the theatre of the Rue Richelieu in well-written pieces; but it was not the case with Debray.
These were problems that the next few hours were destined to solve. One of the first things Maximilian Morrel did, after he and his wife were comfortably installed at the Hôtel de France in Rome, was to make a formal call at the Palazzo Massetti and present his letters of introduction to the aged Count, Giovanni's father.
"As for that, M. Morrel," said he, again turning his quid, "as for that" "As for what?" "The money." "Well" "Well, we all say that fifty francs will be enough for us at present, and that we will wait for the rest." "Thanks, my friends, thanks!" cried Morrel gratefully; "take it take it; and if you can find another employer, enter his service; you are free to do so."
Absalom, "and the fact of his insanity was also imparted to me, but before expressing an opinion as to what my science can do in his case, I must have the particulars." The Count motioned to M. Morrel, who, having by this time partially recovered from his bewilderment, at once proceeded to give the aged Hebrew the information he required. When he had concluded Dr.
He felt a carpet under his feet, a door opened, perfumes surrounded him, and a brilliant light dazzled his eyes. Morrel hesitated to advance; he dreaded the enervating effect of all that he saw. Monte Cristo drew him in gently.
"And now," said Morrel, "leave me alone, and endeavor to keep your mother and sister away." "Will you not see my sister once more?" asked Maximilian. A last but final hope was concealed by the young man in the effect of this interview, and therefore he had suggested it. Morrel shook his head. "I saw her this morning, and bade her adieu."
At the close of this address the soldiers saluted, the only way in which the military regulations permitted them to respond. Monte-Cristo and M. Morrel then had a brief conference with the peasant guide, who seemed very intelligent and thoroughly posted as to the bandits and their stronghold.
With these words he threw himself upon the old Patrician's neck. The Count embraced him, drawing him to his heart and their tears mingled together, for Giovanni also was weeping now. Slowly and as if reluctantly releasing his recovered and rehabilitated son, the Count turned to M. Morrel.
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