asing anger and reproach--"you, who
have deceived me with false hopes, who have cheered and soothed me with
vain promises, when I might, if not have saved her, at least have seen
her die in my arms! You, who pretend to understand everything, even the
hidden sources of knowledge,--and who enact the part of a guardian angel
upon earth, and could not even find an antidote to a poison administered
to a young girl! Ah, sir, indeed you would inspire me with pity, were
you not hateful in my eyes."

"Morrel"--

"Yes; you tell me to lay aside the mask, and I will do so, be satisfied!
When you spoke to me at the cemetery, I answered you--my heart was
softened; when you arrived here, I allowed you to enter. But since
you abuse my confidence, since you have devised a new torture after
I thought I had exhausted them all, then, Count of Monte Cristo my
pretended benefactor--then, Count of Monte Cristo, the universal
guardian, be satisfied, you shall witness the death of your friend;" and
Morrel, with a maniacal laugh, again rushed towards the pistols.

"And I again repeat, you shall not commit suicide."

"Prevent me, then!" replied Morrel, with another struggle, which, like
the first, failed in releasing him from the count's iron grasp.

"I will prevent you."

"And who are you, then, that arrogate to yourself this tyrannical right
over free and rational beings?"

"Who am I?" repeated Monte Cristo. "Listen; I am the only man in the
world having the right to say to you, 'Morrel, your father's son shall
not die to-day;'" and Monte Cristo, with an expression of majesty
and sublimity, advanced with arms folded toward the young man, who,
involuntarily overcome by the commanding manner of this man, recoiled a
step.

"Why do you mention my father?" stammered he; "why do you mingle a
recollection of him with the affairs of today?"

"Because I am he who saved your father's life when he wished to destroy
himself, as you do to-day--because I am the man who sent the purse
to your young sister, and the Pharaon to old Morrel--because I am the
Edmond Dantes who nursed you, a child, on my knees." Morrel made another
step back, staggering, breathless, crushed; then all his strength
give way, and he fell prostrate at the feet of Monte Cristo. Then his
admirable nature underwent a complete and sudden revulsion; he arose,
rushed out of the room and to the stairs, exclaiming energetically,
"Julie, Julie--Emmanuel, Emmanuel!"

Monte Cristo end