"That's what I call love!" said Caderousse, with a voice more tipsy than ever. "That's love, or I don't know what love is."
"Come," said Danglars, "you appear to me a good sort of fellow, and hang me! but I should like to help you, but———"
"Yes," said Caderousse, "but how?"
"My dear fellow," replied Danglars, "you are three-parts drunk; finish the bottle, and you will be completely so. Drink, then, and do not meddle with what we are doing, for what we are doing requires all one's wits."
"I — drunk!" said Caderousse; "well, that's a good one! I could drink four more such bottles; they are no bigger than Eau-de-Cologne flasks. Père Pamphile, more wine!"
And Caderousse, to add the proof to the proposition, rattled his glass upon the table.
"You were saying, sir———" said Fernand, awaiting with great anxiety the end of the interrupted remark.
"What was I saying? I forget. This drunken Caderousse has made me lose the thread of my thoughts."
"Drunk, if you like; so much the worse for those who fear wine, for it is because they have some bad thoughts which they are afraid the liquor will extract from their hearts."
And Caderousse began to sing the last two lines of a song very popular at the time:
"You said, sir, resumed Fernand, "you would like to help me, but———"
"Yes; but I added, to help you it would be sufficient that Dantès did not marry her you love; and the marriage may easily be thwarted, methinks, and yet Dantès need not die."
"Death alone can separate them," remarked Fernand.
"You talk like a noodle, my friend," said Caderousse; "and here is Danglars, who is a wide-awake, clever, deep fellow, who will prove to you that you are wrong. Prove it, Danglars. I have answered for you. Say there is no need why Dantès should die: it would, indeed, be a pity he should. Dantès is a good fellow; I like Dantès! Dantès, your health."
Fernand rose impatiently.
"Let him run on," said Danglars, restraining the young man; "drunk
- ↑ All the bad are water-drinkers;
Noah's deluge is a proof.
