"And, Mamma Caraman, I should like to do the journey on horseback,"

added Clary, in a hesitating voice.

"Still better, dear child--when we reach Ma.r.s.eilles you will be sound in health."

Eight days later we find Clary and her companion settled down in Ma.r.s.eilles. Madame Caraman was in the right--the young patient got round gradually now, as she felt a real desire to get better, and whoever saw the fresh, blooming girl on horseback thought her rather to be anything else than a sufferer from consumption.

In Ma.r.s.eilles Clary got to know misery and sickness in every form and shape, and now she began to see the blessing of being wealthy. She gave with full hands, and Madame Caraman was proud of her conquests since her first journey undertaken under such discouraging circ.u.mstances.

Upon a walk in the Meillan alley Clary noticed Mercedes--that beautiful pale face, with its dark, deep-set, sorrowful eyes, which attracted the young girl's attention in an irresistible manner, and a pocket-handkerchief which Mercedes dropped offered her ample and good opportunity to enter upon a conversation with the owner.

Mercedes admired the lovely young girl, whose mirth showed nothing of the rudeness which, especially to mourners, becomes very disagreeable.

They often met, and after a few days Clary was quite at home in the little house in which Mercedes resided.

Mercedes very soon became acquainted with the past life of the young English lady--she a.s.sisted Madame Caraman in all her work to give to Clary's life, up to now aimless, a fixed object and satisfaction, and it stands to reason that the young girl also felt great interest for Mercedes. Mercedes was only too happy to find an opportunity to speak about Albert--during the ten years he sojourned in Algiers, his letters had been the joy of his mother. Albert called himself Joliette--the name of Morcerf contained for him, the same as for Mercedes, terrible recollections--and soon Clary admired and looked upon Captain Joliette as something of a higher being.

Albert's letters, which, up to now, had always regularly reached Ma.r.s.eilles, now remained away altogether, and a time of indescribable anguish commenced for Mercedes--the arrival of the Jackal Coucou only increased her troubles, for the news which he brought was unsatisfactory, and thus the mother resolved at length to send that call for help to Monte-Cristo.

While Mercedes spoke to Clary the sergeant stood at the window, and he called out suddenly:

"Just now a beautiful yacht, in full sail, is entering the harbor--ah, now I can read the inscription on the vessel; it is the Ice Bird."

"G.o.d be blessed," sobbed Mercedes, falling on her knees. "Ah, I was aware that he would come!"

"I shall go, dear mother," said Clary, rising, "but mind, if anything of importance happens, I hope I shall also know of it?"

"At once," nodded Mercedes, "Monsieur Coucou, pray accompany Mademoiselle Clary, and return immediately in case you are wanted."

The sergeant nodded and both went away.

Soon after a carriage stopped before the door. A man got out and hastened up the narrow staircase.

"Mercedes," he called aloud, with faltering voice; it resounded upon him--"Edmond, Edmond!"

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

A MOTHER

For a moment Mercedes and the count stood motionless opposite each other; then Monte-Cristo extended his hand to the sobbing woman, and in a faltering voice he begged:

"Mercedes--to-day I know that I have sinned--I have punished harder than I had a right to do, and I can only supplicate you to forgive me. Take my life and I shall not murmur. I thought to fulfil my duty, and have executed revenge!"

"No, Edmond--do not talk like this!" said Mercedes, softly; "the lot which met me I deserved even more than--Broken faithfulness must always revenge itself bitterly. The misfortune which nowadays pulls me down has nothing to do with the past, and therefore I ask your help."

"Then speak, Mercedes--I hear," replied Monte-Cristo, simply.

"Edmond," began Mercedes, without further apologies, "you know what was the intention of my son, for whom I was attached to life when everything around was destroyed. Alas! Albert is the favorite of my heart; do not think me foolish, if I tell you he was worthy of you! His letters, which, breathe of his uninterrupted, faithful filial love, have kept me alive ten long, lonesome and weary years; when I read his tender words, when he embraced me, all my hopes centred in the moment when we should meet again! But suddenly all letters ceased to arrive. I waited many a long day, weeks, months, but all in vain--no news came.

"I anxiously read all papers--I inquired and hoped, but I could bring nothing to light. At length I resolved to write to Paris to the Minister of War--I received no answer, and my despair increased daily.

"Then an accident led Monsieur Beauchamp to Ma.r.s.eilles--I took heart to look for him, and acquainted him with my sorrow. He received me very kindly, listened to me, and promised to exert himself to obtain some information for me. After eight days I received the sad news--"

"Then Albert is dead?" said the count, sorrowfully.

"Oh, G.o.d, no--say not so--he cannot, he dare not be dead!" sobbed Mercedes. "The news which Beauchamp acquainted me with was disheartening enough. My poor son, captain in the first Zouave regiment, or the so-called Jackals, about three months ago, after an expedition against the Kabyles, disappeared; they fear the wild horde has taken him away!"

Monte-Cristo reflected a moment and then inquired: "Did it happen before or after the submission of Abd-el-Kader?"

"After, as much as I can tell. Monsieur Beauchamp, however, was not satisfied with the uncertain reports--he informed me that a Zouave from Albert's regiment was on furlough in Paris, and he would not fail to have the Zouave sent to Ma.r.s.eilles to inform me of all, in a more particular way."

"And has this Zouave arrived?" inquired Monte-Cristo, animatedly.

"Yes, a few days since."

"And what does he say?"

"He maintains Albert is still alive."

"Then we may yet hope for the best, Mercedes," said Monte-Cristo, consolingly. "G.o.d owes you a recompense, and you will see your son again!"

"If you say so, I believe it," replied Mercedes sincerely.

"May I also speak with the Zouave?"

"Certainly--he is downstairs now."

"Then let him come up; I should like to ask him a few questions."

Mercedes called the sergeant; Monte-Cristo looked at her pitifully and then whispered:

"Mercedes--here this has reference to my life--you have known me from childhood--have I ever broken my word?"

"Oh, no--only I am guilty of it!"

"I did not wish to hear of that--you have my oath, and with the help of G.o.d I shall keep the same!"

CHAPTER x.x.xVII

THE RING

Cap in hand, the Zouave appeared, and, throwing an inquisitive glance at the count, he said politely: