upon the water."

"Hope, my friend," repeated the count.

"Ah," said Morrel, falling from the height of excitement to the abyss
of despair--"ah, you are playing with me, like those good, or rather
selfish mothers who soothe their children with honeyed words, because
their screams annoy them. No, my friend, I was wrong to caution you; do
not fear, I will bury my grief so deep in my heart, I will disguise
it so, that you shall not even care to sympathize with me. Adieu, my
friend, adieu!"

"On the contrary," said the count, "after this time you must live with
me--you must not leave me, and in a week we shall have left France
behind us."

"And you still bid me hope?"

"I tell you to hope, because I have a method of curing you."

"Count, you render me sadder than before, if it be possible. You think
the result of this blow has been to produce an ordinary grief, and
you would cure it by an ordinary remedy--change of scene." And Morrel
dropped his head with disdainful incredulity. "What can I say more?"
asked Monte Cristo. "I have confidence in the remedy I propose, and only
ask you to permit me to assure you of its efficacy."

"Count, you prolong my agony."

"Then," said the count, "your feeble spirit will not even grant me the
trial I request? Come--do you know of what the Count of Monte Cristo is
capable? do you know that he holds terrestrial beings under his control?
nay, that he can almost work a miracle? Well, wait for the miracle I
hope to accomplish, or"--

"Or?" repeated Morrel.

"Or, take care, Morrel, lest I call you ungrateful."

"Have pity on me, count!"

"I feel so much pity towards you, Maximilian, that--listen to me
attentively--if I do not cure you in a month, to the day, to the very
hour, mark my words, Morrel, I will place loaded pistols before you,
and a cup of the deadliest Italian poison--a poison more sure and prompt
than that which has killed Valentine."

"Will you promise me?"

"Yes; for I am a man, and have suffered like yourself, and also
contemplated suicide; indeed, often since misfortune has left me I have
longed for the delights of an eternal sleep."

"But you are sure you will promise me this?" said Morrel, intoxicated.
"I not only promise, but swear it!" said Monte Cristo extending his
hand.

"In a month, then, on your honor, if I am not consoled, you will let
me take my life into my own hands, and whatever may happen you will not
call me ungrateful?"

"In a month, to t