The count bowed again, but lower than before; he was even paler than Mercedes.
"Madame," said he, "M. le Comte and yourself recompense too generously a simple action. To save a man, to spare a father's feelings or a mother's sensibilty, is not to do a good action, but a simple deed of humanity."
At these words, uttered with the most exquisite sweetness and politeness, Madame de Morcerf replied:
"It is very fortunate for my son, monsieur, that he found such a friend, and I thank God that things are thus."
And Mercedes raised her fine eyes to heaven, with so fervent an expression of gratitude that the count fancied he saw tears in them. M. de Morcerf approached her.
"Madame," said he, "I have already made my excuses to M. le Comte for quitting him, and I pray you to do so also. The sitting commences at two; it is now three, and I am to speak."
"Go, then, and monsieur and I will strive our best to forget your absence!" replied the countess, with the same tone of deep feeling. "M. le Comte," continued she, turning to Monte-Cristo, "will you do us the honor of passing the rest of the day with us!"
"Believe me, madame, I feel most grateful for your kindness, but I got out of my traveling-carriage at your door this morning, and I am ignorant how I am installed in Paris, which I scarcely know; this is but a trifling inquietude, I know, but one that may be appreciated."
"We shall have this pleasure another time!" said the countess; "you promise that?"
Monte-Cristo bowed without answering; but the gesture might pass for assent.
"I will not detain you, monsieur," continued the countess; "I would not have our gratitude become indiscreet or importunate."
"My dear count," said Albert, "I will endeavor to return your politeness at Rome, and place my coupe at your disposal until your own be ready."
"A thousand thanks for your kindness, Viscount," returned the Count of Monte-Cristo; "but I suppose that M. Bertuccio has suitably employed the four hours and a half I have given him, and that I shall find a carriage of some sort ready at the door."
Albert was used to the count's manner of proceeding; he knew that, like Nero, he was in search of the impossible, and nothing astonished him; only, wishing to judge with his own eyes how far the count's orders had been executed, he accompanied him to the door of the hotel. Monte-Cristo was not deceived. As soon as he appeared in
