"Florentin here!" cried he, starting up; "is my mother ill?" And he hastened to the door.
Monte-Cristo watched him; he saw him approach the valet, who drew a small sealed parcel from his pocket, containing a newspaper and a letter.
"From whom is this?" said he, eagerly.
"From M. Beauchamp," replied Florentin.
"Did he send you?"
"Yes, sir; he sent for me to his house, gave me money for my journey, procured a horse, and made me promise not to stop till I had rejoined you; I have come in fifteen hours."
Albert opened the letter with fear, uttered a shriek on reading the first line, and seized the paper. His sight was dimmed, his legs sank under him, and he would have fallen had not Florentin supported him.
"Poor young man!" said Monte-Cristo, with a low voice; "it is then true that the sin of the father shall fall on the children to the third and fourth generation."
Meanwhile Albert had revived, and continuing to read, he threw back his hair, saying:
"Florentin, is your horse fit to return immediately?"
"It is a poor, lame post-horse."
"In what state was the house when you left?"
"All was quiet; but on returning from M. Beauchamp's, I found madame in tears; she had sent for me to know when you would return. I told her my orders from M. Beauchamp; she first extended her arms to prevent me, but after a moment's reflection, 'Go,' said she, 'Florentin, and fetch him.'"
"Yes, my mother," said Albert, "I will return, and woe to the infamous wretch! But first I must go "
He returned, completely changed, to the room where he had left Monte-Cristo. He was no longer the same man; five minutes had sufficed to change Albert completely. He had gone out as usual, but returned with a trembling voice, a feverish look, an eye glittering under blue-veined lids, and a tottering step, like a drunkard's.
"Count," said he, "I thank you for your hospitality, which I would gladly have enjoyed longer, but I must return to Paris."
"What has happened?"
"A great misfortune, more important to me than life. No questions, but a horse."
"My stables are at your command, viscount; but you will kill your self by riding on horseback; take a post-chaise or a carriage."
"No, it would delay me, and I require that fatigue you fear; it will do me good."
