"Yes, yes, my boy, so we will — so we will," replied the old man; "but how shall we be happy? Will you never leave me again? Come, tell me all the good fortune that has befallen you."
"God forgive me," said the young man, "for rejoicing at happiness derived from the grief of others; but, Heaven knows, I did not desire this good fortune: it has happened, and I really cannot affect 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? Only imagine me a captain at twenty, with a hundred louis pay, and a share in the profits! Is this not more than a poor sailor like me could have hoped for?"
"Yes, my dear boy," replied the old man. "It is great good fortune."
"Well, then, with the first money I touch, I mean you to have a small house, with a garden to plant your clematis, your nasturtiums, and your honeysuckles. But what ails you, father? Are not you well?"
"'Tis nothing, nothing; it will soon pass away."
And as he said so the old man's strength failed him, and he fell backward.
"Come, come," said the young man, "a glass of wine, father, will revive you. Where do you keep your wine?"
"No, no; thank ye. You need not look for it; I do not want it," said the old man.
"Yes, yes, father, tell me where it is," and he opened two or three cupboards.
"It is no use," said the old man, "there is no more wine."
"What! no more wine?" said Dantès, turning pale and looking alternately at the hollow and pallid cheeks of the old man and the empty cupboards. "What! no wine? Have you wanted money, father?"
"I want nothing since I see you," said the old man.
"Yet," stammered Dantès, wiping, the perspiration from his brow, — "yet I gave you two hundred francs when I left, three months ago."
"Yes, yes, Edmond, that is true, but you forgot at that time a little debt to our neighbor, Caderousse. He reminded me of it, telling me if I did not pay for you, he would go and get paid by M. Morrel; and so, you see, lest he might do you an injury———"
"Well — "
"Why, I paid him."
"But," cried Dantès, "it was a hundred and forty francs I owed Caderousse."
"Yes," stammered the old man.
"And you paid him out of the two hundred francs I left you?"
The old man made a sign in the affirmative.
