g sail for Algiers, on board of which the
bustle usually attending departure prevailed. The passengers and their
relations crowded on the deck, friends taking a tender but sorrowful
leave of each other, some weeping, others noisy in their grief, the
whole forming a spectacle that might be exciting even to those who
witnessed similar sights daily, but which had no power to disturb the
current of thought that had taken possession of the mind of Maximilian
from the moment he had set foot on the broad pavement of the quay.

* Pierre Puget, the sculptor-architect, was born at
Marseilles in 1622.

"Here," said he, leaning heavily on the arm of Monte Cristo,--"here is
the spot where my father stopped, when the Pharaon entered the port; it
was here that the good old man, whom you saved from death and dishonor,
threw himself into my arms. I yet feel his warm tears on my face, and
his were not the only tears shed, for many who witnessed our meeting
wept also." Monte Cristo gently smiled and said,--"I was there;" at the
same time pointing to the corner of a street. As he spoke, and in the
very direction he indicated, a groan, expressive of bitter grief, was
heard, and a woman was seen waving her hand to a passenger on board the
vessel about to sail. Monte Cristo looked at her with an emotion that
must have been remarked by Morrel had not his eyes been fixed on the
vessel.

"Oh, heavens!" exclaimed Morrel, "I do not deceive myself--that young
man who is waving his hat, that youth in the uniform of a lieutenant, is
Albert de Morcerf!"

"Yes," said Monte Cristo, "I recognized him."

"How so?--you were looking the other way." the Count smiled, as he was
in the habit of doing when he did not want to make any reply, and he
again turned towards the veiled woman, who soon disappeared at the
corner of the street. Turning to his friend,--"Dear Maximilian," said
the count, "have you nothing to do in this land?"

"I have to weep over the grave of my father," replied Morrel in a broken
voice.

"Well, then, go,--wait for me there, and I will soon join you."

"You leave me, then?"

"Yes; I also have a pious visit to pay."

Morrel allowed his hand to fall into that which the count extended to
him; then with an inexpressibly sorrowful inclination of the head he
quitted the count and bent his steps to the east of the city. Monte
Cristo remained on the same spot until Maximilian was out of sight; he
then walked slowly towards