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"God forgive me," said the young man, "for rejoicing at happiness derived from the misery of others, but, Heaven knows, I did not seek this good fortune; it has happened, and I really cannot pretend to lament it. The good Captain Leclere is dead, father, and it is probable that, with the aid of M. Morrel, I shall have his place. Do you understand, father?
The young man reflected for a moment, then an expression of sublime resignation appeared in his eyes, and with a slow and sad gesture he took off his two epaulets, the insignia of his rank. "Be it so, then, my father," he said, extending his hand to Morrel, "die in peace, my father; I will live."
The happy occasion had the character of a public rejoicing, for the populace grateful to the Count of Monte-Cristo and Maximilian Morrel for the suppression of Luigi Vampa and his dangerous outlaws, who for years had been the terror of rich and poor alike, paraded the streets in vast bodies in honor of Zuleika's nuptials with the man whom the notorious brigand chief had so nearly succeeded in overwhelming with irretrievable ruin and disgrace.
"I will take care of that!" he said, impressively. Zuleika was left with Mme. Morrel, and, accompanied by Maximilian, Monte-Cristo at once started for the Ghetto. A brisk walk of half an hour brought the Count and his companion to one of the two gates in the wall of the Ghetto or Jews' quarter of Rome. Monte-Cristo knocked at a wicket and a policeman immediately appeared.
"Indeed!" said Danglars, "he is in too much hurry, it appears to me." "Why, it seems M. Morrel has promised him the thing." "So that he is quite elated about it?" "Why, yes, he is actually insolent over the matter has already offered me his patronage, as if he were a grand personage, and proffered me a loan of money, as though he were a banker." "Which you refused?"
As Morrel and his son embraced on the pier-head, in the presence and amid the applause of the whole city witnessing this event, a man, with his face half-covered by a black beard, and who, concealed behind the sentry-box, watched the scene with delight, uttered these words in a low tone: "Be happy, noble heart, be blessed for all the good thou hast done and wilt do hereafter, and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like your good deeds."
Valentine shook the gate with a strength of which she could not have been supposed to be possessed, as Morrel was going away, and passing both her hands through the opening, she clasped and wrung them. "I must know what you mean to do!" said she. "Where are you going?"
These preliminaries satisfactorily settled, Monte-Cristo, his heart overflowing with joy, immediately returned to the Hôtel de France to notify M. Morrel and to make his preparations for the coming campaign.
Morrel, horrified, supported his head with one hand, and with the other pressed his heart, lest its beatings should be heard. "Dead, dead!" repeated he within himself; and he felt as if he were also dying. "Speak, doctor I am listening," said Villefort; "strike I am prepared for everything!" "Madame de Saint-Meran was, doubtless, advancing in years, but she enjoyed excellent health."
Then, for the first time, he observed that the Count was not alone and fixed his keen eyes on M. Morrel with a look of suspicion and inquiry. "One of my dearest friends, M. Maximilian Morrel, Captain in the Army of France," said Monte-Cristo, in answer to this look. "You can have as full confidence in him as in me." Dr.
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