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Updated: June 25, 2025
The door leading to the terrace opened, and Mercedes with tottering steps approached Haydee. "Haydee," said Monte-Cristo, turning toward his wife, "here is Mercedes, whom you have known through me for some time." Haydee hastened toward Mercedes with extended arms. "Be welcome, dear friend," she accosted her with a sweet, melodious voice.
If you have sinned, your love for your country has made atonement!" One hour later the count, Haydee and Spero bade adieu to Aslitta and Luciola in the Café Vidiserti. "Farewell, marquis," said the count, throwing a knowing glance at Aslitta, who held the diva in his arms. Aslitta nodded. "To-day Luciola will be my bride," he gently said. "Why do you wish to leave us?" exclaimed Luciola, sobbing.
Only misery can follow the union of two souls not in perfect accord, not entirely devoted the one to the other. I am much older than you, Haydée, and my sufferings have aged me still more than years. I am a sad and weary man. You, on the contrary, stand just upon the threshold of existence; the world and its pleasures are all before you.
Zuleika, dropping her mother's hand, sprang lightly upon her father's knees, and, clasping him about the neck with her chubby arms, kissed him rapturously. The Count started from his deep reverie and returned his daughter's kiss; then, looking up, he perceived Haydée and Espérance. "Ah! my loved ones," said he, "so you are all here!"
"Separate?" repeated Haydee, leaping up terrified and her eyes filling with tears. "Yes for some time a few months." "Thy will be done," uttered Haydee sighing; "I know that a sacred duty calls you away, and God will strengthen me to bear the trial!" "Thanks, Haydee, for this word it will accompany me when I am away from you!" "And to what place does your duty call you?"
It was about ten o'clock and the sun, high in the heavens, inundated the vast apartment with its golden light and filled it with a generous warmth. Haydée, the wife of Monte-Cristo, reclined upon an oriental rug, her head pillowed in the lap of Mercédès, who sat on a divan elegantly upholstered in the eastern fashion.
One evening as they were walking thus it was the evening of the fifteenth of October, and Crete was distant but two days' sail Monte-Cristo tenderly took Haydée's hand in his and said to her in a tone of ineffable softness: "Haydée, do you remember what you said to me on the Isle of Monte-Cristo just before we parted from Valentine and Maximilian?" "Oh! yes, my lord," was the low reply.
He sank into a chair, and, burying his face in his hands, was lost in profound thought. Meanwhile, a lovely woman, leading a beautiful girl of eight years and a handsome boy of nine, had noiselessly entered the apartment. It was Haydée, the wife of Monte-Cristo, Haydée grown mature and more beautiful than ever.
They were the features of his parents which had been placed upon the canvas by the hand of an artist. In all her goodness, Haydee, Ali Tebelen's daughter, looked down upon her son, and the bold, proud face of Edmond Dantes greeted his heir with a speaking look. "Ah, my mother," whispered Spero, softly, "if you were only with me now that father has left me.
On the evening of the day Monte-Cristo arrived in Marseilles, the count sat with Haydee on the terrace. Both seemed delighted with the splendid panorama before them, and from time to time the count rose to look after Spero, who, bending over a book, sat reading in the adjacent conservatory.
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