The count was silent, but continued to gaze around him. At length they arrived at the cemetery. The piercing eye of Monte-Cristo glanced through clusters of bushes and trees, and was soon relieved from all anxiety, for he saw a shadow glide between the yew-trees, and Monte-Cristo recognized him whom he sought.
A funeral in this magnificent necropolis generally presents the same aspect at all times; black figures scattered in the long white avenues; a silence of earth and heaven broken by some crackling branch or by the noise of some fence disturbed near a monument; then the melancholy chant of the priest, mingled now and then with a sob of anguish, escaping from under a mass of flowers that conceals some woman in despair and with clasped hands.
The shadow Monte-Cristo had remarked passed rapidly behind the tomb of Abélard and Héloïse, and placed itself close to the horses' heads belonging to the hearse, and following the undertaker's men, arrived with them at the spot appointed for the burial. Each person's attention was occupied. Monte-Cristo saw nothing but the shadow, which no one else observed. Twice the count left the ranks to see whether the object of his interest had any concealed weapon beneath his clothes. When the procession stopped, this shadow was recognized as Morrel; who, with his coat buttoned up to his throat, his face livid, and convulsively crushing his hat between his fingers, leaned against a tree, situated on an elevation commanding the mausoleum, so that none of the funeral details could escape his observation.
Everything was conducted in the usual manner. A few men, the least impressed of all by the scene, pronounced discourses; some deploring this premature death; others expatiating on the grief of the father; and one very ingenious person quoted the fact of Valentine having solicited pardon of her father for criminals on whom the arm of justice was ready to fall; until at length they exhausted their stores of metaphor and mournful speeches, elaborate variations on the stanzas of Malherbe to Desperiers.
Monte-Cristo heard and saw nothing, or rather he only saw Morrel, whose calmness had a frightful effect on those who knew what was passing in his heart.
"See!" said Beauchamp, pointing out Morrel to Debray. "What is he doing up there?" And they called Château-Renaud's attention to him.
"How pale he is!" said Château-Renaud, shuddering.
"He is cold!" said Debray.
"Not at all," said Château-Renaud, slowly; "I think he is violently agitated. He is very susceptible."
