precisely loved. Another possessed all Mercédès' heart; that other was absent, had disappeared, perhaps was dead. At this last idea Mercédès burst into a flood of tears, and wrung her hands in agony; but this idea, which she had always repelled before when it was suggested to her by another, came now in full force upon her mind; and then, too, old Dantès incessantly said to her, 'Our Edmond is dead; if he were not, he would return to us.'
"The old man died, as I have told you; had he lived, Mercédès, perchance, had not become the wife of another, for he would have been there to reproach her infidelity. Fernand saw this, and when he learned the old man's death, he returned. He was now a lieutenant. At his first coming he had not said a word of love to Mercédès; at the second he reminded her that he loved her.
"Mercédès begged for six months more to expect and bewail Edmond."
"So that," said the abbé, with a bitter smile, "that makes eighteen months in all. What more could the most devoted lover desire?"
Then he murmured the words of the English poet, "Frailty, thy name is woman!"
"Six months afterward," continued Caderousse, "the marriage took place in the Church of Accoules."
"The very church in which she was to have married Edmond," murmured the priest. "There was a change of bridegroom, that was all."
"Well, Mercédès was married," proceeded Caderousse; "but although in the eyes of the world she appeared calm, she nearly fainted as she passed La Réserve, where, eighteen months before, the betrothal had been celebrated with him whom she would have seen that she still loved, had she looked at the bottom of her heart. Fernand, more happy, but not more at his ease — for I saw at this time he was in constant dread of Edmond's return — Fernand was very anxious to get his wife away, and to depart himself. There were too many dangers and recollections associated with the Catalans, and eight days after the wedding they left Marseilles."
"Did you ever see Mercédès again?" inquired the priest.
"Yes, during the war of Spain, at Perpignan, where Fernand had left her; she was attending to the education of her son."
The abbé started. "Her son?" said he.
"Yes," replied Caderousse; "little Albert."
"But, then, to be able to instruct her child," continued the abbé, "she must have received an education herself. I understood from Edmond that she was the daughter of a simple fisherman, beautiful but uneducated."
"Oh!" replied Caderousse, "did he know so little of his betrothed?
