The Count of Monte Cristo

ntering the house found that the guests whom he had left at table were taking coffee in the salon. Renée was, w

State, Royalist, Brutus, what is t

th a fresh Reign of T

ogre broken loos

n-law, "I request your pardon for thus leaving you. Will th

, then?" asked the marquis, remark

a few days; so," added he, turning to Renée,

Renée, unable to hide her emotion

rned Villefo

e you going?" as

ions for Paris, a friend of mine is going there to-night, and wil

k to me alone?" s

, please." The marquis took hi

as they were by themselv

my immediate presence in Paris. Now, excuse the indi

e funds; seven or eight

out, marquis, or yo

an I sell

broker, hav

es

m to sell out without an instant's delay,

plied the marquis, "let

tter to his broker, ordering him

lacing the letter in his pocke

wh

he ki

he ki

es

write to h

nt a letter that will enable me to reach the king's presence without all the for

has the right of entry at the Tuileries, and can pr

d leave me in the background, and take all the glory to himself. I tell you, marquis, my fortune is

and make him write the letter." "Be as quick as possi

chman to stop

rquise and Mademoiselle Renée, whom I

h here, and can make yo

nks--and now fo

rang, a serv

Salvieux that I wou

go," said

gone only a

ld be enough to throw the whole city into confusion, he resumed his ordinary pace. At his door he perceived a figure in the sh

illefort instantly recognized her. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him, and when she inqu

iminal. and I can do nothing for him, mademoiselle." Mercédès burst i

e is, that I may know whether h

no longer in my hand

he pain he felt. But remorse is not thus banished; like Virgil's wounded hero, he carried the arrow in his

his irresistible eloquence they had been condemned, and yet the slightest shadow of remorse had never clouded Villefort's brow, because they were guilty; at least, he believed so; but here was an innocent man whose happiness he had destroyed: in this case he was not the judge, but the executioner. As he thus reflected, he felt the sensation we have described, and which had hitherto been unknown to him, arise in his bosom, and fill him with vague apprehensions. It is thus that a wounded man trembles instinctively at the approach of the finger to his wound u

t, stood motionless an instant, his hand pressed to his head, muttered a few inarticulate sounds, and then, perceiving that his servant had place

arted when he saw Renée, for he fancied she was again about to plead for Dantès. Alas

er husband. Villefort knew not when he should return, and Renée, far from p

uch. Fernand, kneeling by her side, took her hand, and covered it with kisses that Mercédès did not even feel. She passed the night thus. The lamp went out for wa

aid she, at length, tu

since yesterday," return

city; but the report was already in circulation that Dantès was arrested as a Bonapartist agent; and as the most sanguine looked upon any attempt of Napoleon to remount

ing reflection. But he did not succeed, and became too intoxicated to fetch any more drink, and yet not so intoxicated as to forget what had happened. With his elbows on the table he s

pen behind the ear, and an inkstand in place of a heart. Everything with him was multiplication or subtraction. The life of a man was to him of far less value

embraced Renée, kissed the marquise's hand, and shaken th

w what had become of Edmond. But we know