the maiden to whom I was betrothed; and I feel convinced all four unfeignedly grieved over my loss. The name of one of the four friends I allude to is Caderousse.'" The aubergiste shivered.
"'Another of the number,'" continued the abbé, without seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse, "'is called Danglars; and the third, spite of being my rival, entertained a very sincere affection for me.'"
A fiendish smile played over the features of Caderousse, who was about to break in upon the abbé's speech, when the latter, waving his hand, said: "Allow me to finish first, and then, if you have any observations to make, you can do so afterward. 'The third of my friends, although my rival,—was much attached to me, his name was Fernand; that of my betrothed was———' Stay, stay," continued the abbé, "I have forgotten what he called her."
"Mercédès," cried Caderousse.
"True," said the abbé, with a stifled sigh, "Mercédès it was."
"Go on," urged Caderousse.
"Bring me a carafe of water," said the abbé.
Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding; and after pouring some into a glass and slowly swallowing its contents, the abbé said, as he placed his glass on the table:
"Where did we leave off?"
"Oh, that the betrothed of Edmond was called Mercédès."
"To be sure. 'Well, then,' said Dantès,—for you understand, I repeat his words just as he uttered them—'you will go to Marseilles.' Do you understand?"
"Perfectly."
"'For the purpose of selling this diamond; the produce of which you will divide into five equal parts, and give an equal portion to the only persons who have loved me upon earth.'"
"But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse; "you only mentioned four persons."
"Because the fifth is dead, as I hear. The fifth sharer in Edmond's bequest was his own father."
"Too true, too true!" ejaculated Caderousse, almost suffocated by the contending passions which assailed him, "the poor old man did die."
"I learned so much at Marseilles," replied the abbé, making a strong effort to appear indifferent; "but from the length of time that has elapsed since the death of the elder Dantès, I was unable to obtain any particulars of his end. Do you know anything about his death?"
"I do not know who could if I could not," said Caderousse. "Why, I lived almost on the same floor with the poor old man. Ah, yes! about a year after the disappearance of his son the old man died."
