sto reappeared. Pale, with a dull eye and heavy heart, all the
noble features of that face, usually so calm and serene, were overcast
by grief. In his arms he held the child, whom no skill had been able to
recall to life. Bending on one knee, he placed it reverently by the side
of its mother, with its head upon her breast. Then, rising, he went
out, and meeting a servant on the stairs, he asked, "Where is M. de
Villefort?"

The servant, instead of answering, pointed to the garden. Monte Cristo
ran down the steps, and advancing towards the spot designated beheld
Villefort, encircled by his servants, with a spade in his hand, and
digging the earth with fury. "It is not here!" he cried. "It is not
here!" And then he moved farther on, and began again to dig.

Monte Cristo approached him, and said in a low voice, with an expression
almost humble, "Sir, you have indeed lost a son; but"--

Villefort interrupted him; he had neither listened nor heard. "Oh, I
will find it," he cried; "you may pretend he is not here, but I will
find him, though I dig forever!" Monte Cristo drew back in horror. "Oh,"
he said, "he is mad!" And as though he feared that the walls of the
accursed house would crumble around him, he rushed into the street, for
the first time doubting whether he had the right to do as he had done.
"Oh, enough of this,--enough of this," he cried; "let me save the last."
On entering his house, he met Morrel, who wandered about like a ghost
awaiting the heavenly mandate for return to the tomb. "Prepare yourself,
Maximilian," he said with a smile; "we leave Paris to-morrow."

"Have you nothing more to do there?" asked Morrel.

"No," replied Monte Cristo; "God grant I may not have done too much
already."

The next day they indeed left, accompanied only by Baptistin. Haidee had
taken away Ali, and Bertuccio remained with Noirtier.

Chapter 112. The Departure.

The recent event formed the theme of conversation throughout all Paris.
Emmanuel and his wife conversed with natural astonishment in their
little apartment in the Rue Meslay upon the three successive, sudden,
and most unexpected catastrophes of Morcerf, Danglars, and Villefort.
Maximilian, who was paying them a visit, listened to their conversation,
or rather was present at it, plunged in his accustomed state of apathy.
"Indeed," said Julie, "might we not almost fancy, Emmanuel, that
those people, so rich, so happy but yesterday, had forgotten in their
prosp