funeral is the news of the day. But hush,
here comes our minister of justice; he will feel obliged to make some
little speech to the cousin," and the three young men drew near to
listen. Beauchamp told the truth when he said that on his way to the
funeral he had met Monte Cristo, who was directing his steps towards the
Rue de la Chausse d'Antin, to M. Danglars'.

The banker saw the carriage of the count enter the court yard, and
advanced to meet him with a sad, though affable smile. "Well," said
he, extending his hand to Monte Cristo, "I suppose you have come to
sympathize with me, for indeed misfortune has taken possession of my
house. When I perceived you, I was just asking myself whether I had not
wished harm towards those poor Morcerfs, which would have justified the
proverb of 'He who wishes misfortunes to happen to others experiences
them himself.' Well, on my word of honor, I answered, 'No!' I wished
no ill to Morcerf; he was a little proud, perhaps, for a man who like
myself has risen from nothing; but we all have our faults. Do you know,
count, that persons of our time of life--not that you belong to the
class, you are still a young man,--but as I was saying, persons of our
time of life have been very unfortunate this year. For example, look at
the puritanical procureur, who has just lost his daughter, and in fact
nearly all his family, in so singular a manner; Morcerf dishonored
and dead; and then myself covered with ridicule through the villany of
Benedetto; besides"--

"Besides what?" asked the Count.

"Alas, do you not know?"

"What new calamity?"

"My daughter"--

"Mademoiselle Danglars?"

"Eugenie has left us!"

"Good heavens, what are you telling me?"

"The truth, my dear count. Oh, how happy you must be in not having
either wife or children!"

"Do you think so?"

"Indeed I do."

"And so Mademoiselle Danglars"--

"She could not endure the insult offered to us by that wretch, so she
asked permission to travel."

"And is she gone?"

"The other night she left."

"With Madame Danglars?"

"No, with a relation. But still, we have quite lost our dear Eugenie;
for I doubt whether her pride will ever allow her to return to France."

"Still, baron," said Monte Cristo, "family griefs, or indeed any other
affliction which would crush a man whose child was his only treasure,
are endurable to a millionaire. Philosophers may well say, and practical
men will always support the opinion, that mo