bear
the aspect, not of a downy couch, but of a tomb. But as we have said, he
waited in vain for his son to come to his apartment with the account of
his triumph. He easily understood why his son did not come to see him
before he went to avenge his father's honor; but when that was done, why
did not his son come and throw himself into his arms?

It was then, when the count could not see Albert, that he sent for his
servant, who he knew was authorized not to conceal anything from him.
Ten minutes afterwards, General Morcerf was seen on the steps in a black
coat with a military collar, black pantaloons, and black gloves. He had
apparently given previous orders, for as he reached the bottom step his
carriage came from the coach-house ready for him. The valet threw into
the carriage his military cloak, in which two swords were wrapped, and,
shutting the door, he took his seat by the side of the coachman. The
coachman stooped down for his orders.

"To the Champs Elysees," said the general; "the Count of Monte Cristo's.
Hurry!" The horses bounded beneath the whip; and in five minutes they
stopped before the count's door. M. de Morcerf opened the door himself,
and as the carriage rolled away he passed up the walk, rang, and entered
the open door with his servant.

A moment afterwards, Baptistin announced the Count of Morcerf to Monte
Cristo, and the latter, leading Haidee aside, ordered that Morcerf be
asked into the drawing-room. The general was pacing the room the third
time when, in turning, he perceived Monte Cristo at the door. "Ah, it
is M. de Morcerf," said Monte Cristo quietly; "I thought I had not heard
aright."

"Yes, it is I," said the count, whom a frightful contraction of the lips
prevented from articulating freely.

"May I know the cause which procures me the pleasure of seeing M. de
Morcerf so early?"

"Had you not a meeting with my son this morning?" asked the general.

"I had," replied the count.

"And I know my son had good reasons to wish to fight with you, and to
endeavor to kill you."

"Yes, sir, he had very good ones; but you see that in spite of them he
has not killed me, and did not even fight."

"Yet he considered you the cause of his father's dishonor, the cause of
the fearful ruin which has fallen on my house."

"It is true, sir," said Monte Cristo with his dreadful calmness; "a
secondary cause, but not the principal."

"Doubtless you made, then, some apology or explanation?"

"I exp