derousse.'" The inn-keeper
shivered.

"'Another of the number,'" continued the abbe, without seeming to notice
the emotion of Caderousse, "'is called Danglars; and the third, in spite
of being my rival, entertained a very sincere affection for me.'" A
fiendish smile played over the features of Caderousse, who was about to
break in upon the abbe's speech, when the latter, waving his hand, said,
"Allow me to finish first, and then if you have any observations to
make, you can do so afterwards. 'The third of my friends, although
my rival, was much attached to me,--his name was Fernand; that of my
betrothed was'--Stay, stay," continued the abbe, "I have forgotten what
he called her."

"Mercedes," said Caderousse eagerly.

"True," said the abbe, with a stifled sigh, "Mercedes it was."

"Go on," urged Caderousse.

"Bring me a carafe of water," said the abbe.

Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding; and after pouring
some into a glass, and slowly swallowing its contents, the abbe,
resuming his usual placidity of manner, said, as he placed his empty
glass on the table,--"Where did we leave off?"

"The name of Edmond's betrothed was Mercedes."

"To be sure. 'You will go to Marseilles,' said Dantes,--for you
understand, I repeat his words just as he uttered them. Do you
understand?"

"Perfectly."

"'You will sell this diamond; you will divide the money into five equal
parts, and give an equal portion to these good friends, the only persons
who have loved me upon earth.'"

"But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse; "you only mentioned four
persons."

"Because the fifth is dead, as I hear. The fifth sharer in Edmond's
bequest, was his own father."

"Too true, too true!" ejaculated Caderousse, almost suffocated by the
contending passions which assailed him, "the poor old man did die."

"I learned so much at Marseilles," replied the abbe, making a strong
effort to appear indifferent; "but from the length of time that has
elapsed since the death of the elder Dantes, I was unable to obtain any
particulars of his end. Can you enlighten me on that point?"

"I do not know who could if I could not," said Caderousse. "Why, I lived
almost on the same floor with the poor old man. Ah, yes, about a year
after the disappearance of his son the poor old man died."

"Of what did he die?"

"Why, the doctors called his complaint gastro-enteritis, I believe;
his acquaintances say he died of grief; but I, who saw h