me. This was M.
Morrel's wish also, who would fain have conveyed the old man against his
consent; but the old man resisted, and cried so that they were actually
frightened. Mercedes remained, therefore, by his bedside, and M. Morrel
went away, making a sign to the Catalan that he had left his purse on
the chimney-piece. But availing himself of the doctor's order, the old
man would not take any sustenance; at length (after nine days of despair
and fasting), the old man died, cursing those who had caused his misery,
and saying to Mercedes, 'If you ever see my Edmond again, tell him I die
blessing him.'" The abbe rose from his chair, made two turns round the
chamber, and pressed his trembling hand against his parched throat. "And
you believe he died"--

"Of hunger, sir, of hunger," said Caderousse. "I am as certain of it as
that we two are Christians."

The abbe, with a shaking hand, seized a glass of water that was standing
by him half-full, swallowed it at one gulp, and then resumed his seat,
with red eyes and pale cheeks. "This was, indeed, a horrid event." said
he in a hoarse voice.

"The more so, sir, as it was men's and not God's doing."

"Tell me of those men," said the abbe, "and remember too," he added in
an almost menacing tone, "you have promised to tell me everything. Tell
me, therefore, who are these men who killed the son with despair, and
the father with famine?"

"Two men jealous of him, sir; one from love, and the other from
ambition,--Fernand and Danglars."

"How was this jealousy manifested? Speak on."

"They denounced Edmond as a Bonapartist agent."

"Which of the two denounced him? Which was the real delinquent?"

"Both, sir; one with a letter, and the other put it in the post."

"And where was this letter written?"

"At La Reserve, the day before the betrothal feast."

"'Twas so, then--'twas so, then," murmured the abbe. "Oh, Faria, Faria,
how well did you judge men and things!"

"What did you please to say, sir?" asked Caderousse.

"Nothing, nothing," replied the priest; "go on."

"It was Danglars who wrote the denunciation with his left hand, that his
writing might not be recognized, and Fernand who put it in the post."

"But," exclaimed the abbe suddenly, "you were there yourself."

"I!" said Caderousse, astonished; "who told you I was there?"

The abbe saw he had overshot the mark, and he added quickly,--"No one;
but in order to have known everything so well, you must have bee