you;
respond to her call. France will not, perhaps, be always ungrateful. She
treats her children ill, but she always welcomes strangers."

"Ah, father," said Albert with a smile, "it is evident you do not know
the Count of Monte Cristo; he despises all honors, and contents himself
with those written on his passport."

"That is the most just remark," replied the stranger, "I ever heard made
concerning myself."

"You have been free to choose your career," observed the Count of
Morcerf, with a sigh; "and you have chosen the path strewed with
flowers."

"Precisely, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo with one of those smiles
that a painter could never represent or a physiologist analyze.

"If I did not fear to fatigue you," said the general, evidently charmed
with the count's manners, "I would have taken you to the Chamber;
there is a debate very curious to those who are strangers to our modern
senators."

"I shall be most grateful, monsieur, if you will, at some future time,
renew your offer, but I have been flattered with the hope of being
introduced to the countess, and I will therefore wait."

"Ah, here is my mother," cried the viscount. Monte Cristo, turned round
hastily, and saw Madame de Morcerf at the entrance of the salon, at
the door opposite to that by which her husband had entered, pale and
motionless; when Monte Cristo turned round, she let fall her arm, which
for some unknown reason had been resting on the gilded door-post.
She had been there some moments, and had heard the last words of the
visitor. The latter rose and bowed to the countess, who inclined herself
without speaking. "Ah, good heavens, madame," said the count, "are you
ill, or is it the heat of the room that affects you?"

"Are you ill, mother?" cried the viscount, springing towards her.

She thanked them both with a smile. "No," returned she, "but I feel
some emotion on seeing, for the first time, the man without whose
intervention we should have been in tears and desolation. Monsieur,"
continued the countess, advancing with the majesty of a queen, "I owe to
you the life of my son, and for this I bless you. Now, I thank you
for the pleasure you give me in thus affording me the opportunity of
thanking you as I have blessed you, from the bottom of my heart."
The count bowed again, but lower than before; He was even paler than
Mercedes. "Madame," said he, "the count and yourself recompense too
generously a simple action. To save a man, to