the name he bore) had entered the service of Ali Pacha with the rank of instructor-general. Ali Pacha was killed, as you know; but before he died he recompensed the services of Fernand by leaving him a considerable sum, with which he returned to France, when his rank of lieutenant-general was confirmed."
"So that now———?" inquired the abbé.
"So that now," continued Caderousse, "he possesses a magnificent hotel, No. 27 Rue du Helder, Paris."
The abbé opened his mouth, remained for a moment like a man who hesitates, then, making an effort over himself, he said:
"And Mercédès — they tell me that she has disappeared?"
"Disappeared," said Caderousse, "yes, as the sun disappears, to rise the next day with still more splendor."
"Has she made a fortune also?" inquired the abbé, with an ironical smile.
"Mercédès is at this moment one of the greatest ladies in Paris," replied Caderousse.
"Go on," said the abbé; "it seems as if I were hearing the recital of a dream. But I have seen things so extraordinary, that those you mention to me seem less astonishing."
"Mercédès was at first in the deepest despair at the blow which deprived her of Edmond. I have told you of her attempts to propitiate M. de Villefort, and of her devotion to the father of Dantès. In the midst of her despair, a fresh trouble overtook her. This was the departure of Fernand — of Fernand, whose crime she did not know, and whom she regarded as her brother. Fernand went, and Mercédès remained alone.
"Three months passed and found her all tears, — no news of Edmond, no news of Fernand, nothing before her but an old man who was dying with despair. One evening, after having been seated, as was her custom, all day at the angle of two roads that lead to Marseilles from the Catalans, she returned to her home more depressed than ever; neither her lover nor her friend returned by either of those roads, and she had no intelligence of one or the other. Suddenly she heard a step she knew, turned round anxiously, the door opened, and Fernand, dressed in the uniform of a sub-lieutenant, stood before her.
"It was not the half that she bewailed, but it was a portion of her past life that returned to her.
"Mercédès seized Fernand's hands with a transport which he took for love, but which was only joy at being no longer alone in the world, and seeing at last a friend, after long hours of solitary sorrow. And then, it must be confessed, Fernand had never been hated — he was only not
