arshal did."

"And what did you do with that letter?"

"Put it into my portfolio."

"You had your portfolio with you, then? Now, how could a sailor find
room in his pocket for a portfolio large enough to contain an official
letter?"

"You are right; it was left on board."

"Then it was not till your return to the ship that you put the letter in
the portfolio?"

"No."

"And what did you do with this same letter while returning from
Porto-Ferrajo to the vessel?"

"I carried it in my hand."

"So that when you went on board the Pharaon, everybody could see that
you held a letter in your hand?"

"Yes."

"Danglars, as well as the rest?"

"Danglars, as well as others."

"Now, listen to me, and try to recall every circumstance attending your
arrest. Do you recollect the words in which the information against you
was formulated?"

"Oh yes, I read it over three times, and the words sank deeply into my
memory."

"Repeat it to me."

Dantes paused a moment, then said, "This is it, word for word: 'The
king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and religion,
that one Edmond Dantes, mate on board the Pharaon, this day arrived
from Smyrna, after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, has been
intrusted by Murat with a packet for the usurper; again, by the usurper,
with a letter for the Bonapartist Club in Paris. This proof of his guilt
may be procured by his immediate arrest, as the letter will be found
either about his person, at his father's residence, or in his cabin
on board the Pharaon.'" The abbe shrugged his shoulders. "The thing is
clear as day," said he; "and you must have had a very confiding nature,
as well as a good heart, not to have suspected the origin of the whole
affair."

"Do you really think so? Ah, that would indeed be infamous."

"How did Danglars usually write?"

"In a handsome, running hand."

"And how was the anonymous letter written?"

"Backhanded." Again the abbe smiled. "Disguised."

"It was very boldly written, if disguised."

"Stop a bit," said the abbe, taking up what he called his pen, and,
after dipping it into the ink, he wrote on a piece of prepared linen,
with his left hand, the first two or three words of the accusation.
Dantes drew back, and gazed on the abbe with a sensation almost
amounting to terror.

"How very astonishing!" cried he at length. "Why your writing exactly
resembles that of the accusation."

"Simply because that accusation had been