erity that an evil genius--like the wicked fairies in Perrault's
stories who present themselves unbidden at a wedding or baptism--hovered
over them, and appeared all at once to revenge himself for their fatal
neglect?"

"What a dire misfortune!" said Emmanuel, thinking of Morcerf and
Danglars.

"What dreadful sufferings!" said Julie, remembering Valentine, but whom,
with a delicacy natural to women, she did not name before her brother.

"If the Supreme Being has directed the fatal blow," said Emmanuel, "it
must be that he in his great goodness has perceived nothing in the past
lives of these people to merit mitigation of their awful punishment."

"Do you not form a very rash judgment, Emmanuel?" said Julie. "When my
father, with a pistol in his hand, was once on the point of committing
suicide, had any one then said, 'This man deserves his misery,' would
not that person have been deceived?"

"Yes; but your father was not allowed to fall. A being was commissioned
to arrest the fatal hand of death about to descend on him."

Emmanuel had scarcely uttered these words when the sound of the bell
was heard, the well-known signal given by the porter that a visitor had
arrived. Nearly at the same instant the door was opened and the Count of
Monte Cristo appeared on the threshold. The young people uttered a
cry of joy, while Maximilian raised his head, but let it fall again
immediately. "Maximilian," said the count, without appearing to notice
the different impressions which his presence produced on the little
circle, "I come to seek you."

"To seek me?" repeated Morrel, as if awakening from a dream.

"Yes," said Monte Cristo; "has it not been agreed that I should take you
with me, and did I not tell you yesterday to prepare for departure?"

"I am ready," said Maximilian; "I came expressly to wish them farewell."

"Whither are you going, count?" asked Julie.

"In the first instance to Marseilles, madame."

"To Marseilles!" exclaimed the young couple.

"Yes, and I take your brother with me."

"Oh, count." said Julie, "will you restore him to us cured of his
melancholy?"--Morrel turned away to conceal the confusion of his
countenance.

"You perceive, then, that he is not happy?" said the count. "Yes,"
replied the young woman; "and fear much that he finds our home but a
dull one."

"I will undertake to divert him," replied the count.

"I am ready to accompany you, sir," said Maximilian. "Adieu, my kind
friends!