CHAPTER 78. We hear From Yanina.

If Valentine could have seen the trembling step and agitated countenance
of Franz when he quitted the chamber of M. Noirtier, even she would have
been constrained to pity him. Villefort had only just given utterance
to a few incoherent sentences, and then retired to his study, where he
received about two hours afterwards the following letter:--

"After all the disclosures which were made this morning, M. Noirtier de
Villefort must see the utter impossibility of any alliance being formed
between his family and that of M. Franz d'Epinay. M. d'Epinay must say
that he is shocked and astonished that M. de Villefort, who appeared to
be aware of all the circumstances detailed this morning, should not have
anticipated him in this announcement."

No one who had seen the magistrate at this moment, so thoroughly
unnerved by the recent inauspicious combination of circumstances, would
have supposed for an instant that he had anticipated the annoyance;
although it certainly never had occurred to him that his father would
carry candor, or rather rudeness, so far as to relate such a history.
And in justice to Villefort, it must be understood that M. Noirtier,
who never cared for the opinion of his son on any subject, had always
omitted to explain the affair to Villefort, so that he had all his life
entertained the belief that General de Quesnel, or the Baron d'Epinay,
as he was alternately styled, according as the speaker wished to
identify him by his own family name, or by the title which had been
conferred on him, fell the victim of assassination, and not that he was
killed fairly in a duel. This harsh letter, coming as it did from a man
generally so polite and respectful, struck a mortal blow at the pride
of Villefort. Hardly had he read the letter, when his wife entered. The
sudden departure of Franz, after being summoned by M. Noirtier, had so
much astonished every one, that the position of Madame de Villefort,
left alone with the notary and the witnesses, became every moment more
embarrassing. Determined to bear it no longer, she arose and left the
room; saying she would go and make some inquiries into the cause of his
sudden disappearance.

M. de Villefort's communications on the subject were very limited and
concise; he told her, in fact, that an explanation had taken place
between M. Noirtier, M. d'Epinay, and himself, and that the marriage
of Valentine and Franz would consequently be broken off. This was
an awkward and unpleasant thing to have to report to those who were
awaiting her return in the chamber of her father-in-law. She
therefore contented herself with saying that M. Noirtier having at the
commencement of the discussion been attacked by a sort of apoplectic
fit, the affair would necessarily be deferred for some days longer. This
news, false as it was following so singularly in the train of the two
similar misfortunes which had so recently occurred, evidently astonished
the auditors, and they retired without a word. During this time
Valentine, at once terrified and happy, after having embraced and
thanked the feeble old man for thus breaking with a single blow the
chain which she had been accustomed to consider as irrefragable, asked
leave to retire to her own room, in order to recover her composure.
Noirtier looked the permission which she solicited. But instead of going
to her own room, Valentine, having once gained her liberty, entered the
gallery, and, opening a small door at the end of it, found herself at
once in the garden.

In the midst of all the strange events which had crowded one on the
other, an indefinable sentiment of dread had taken possession of
Valentine's mind. She expected every moment that she should see Morrel
appear, pale and trembling, to forbid the signing of the contract, like
the Laird of Ravenswood in "The Bride of Lammermoor." It was high time
for her to make her appearance at the gate, for Maximilian had long
awaited her coming. He had half guessed what was going on when he saw
Franz quit the cemetery with M. de Villefort. He followed M. d'Epinay,
saw him enter, afterwards go out, and then re-enter with Albert and
Chateau-Renaud. He had no longer any doubts as to the nature of the
conference; he therefore quickly went to the gate in the clover-patch,
prepared to hear the result of the proceedings, and very certain that
Valentine would hasten to him the first moment she should be set at
liberty. He was not mistaken; peering through the crevices of the wooden
partition, he soon discovered the young girl, who cast aside all her
usual precautions and walked at once to the barrier. The first glance
which Maximilian directed towards her entirely reassured him, and the
first words she spoke made his heart bound with delight.

"We are saved!" said Valentine. "Saved?" repeated Morrel, not being able
to conceive such intense happiness; "by whom?"

"By my grandfather. Oh, Morrel, pray love him for all his goodness to
us!" Morrel swore to love him with all his soul; and at that moment he
could safely promise to do so, for he felt as though it were not enough
to love him merely as a friend or even as a father. "But tell me,
Valentine, how has it all been effected? What strange means has he used
to compass this blessed end?"

Valentine was on the point of relating all that had passed, but she
suddenly remembered that in doing so she must reveal a terrible secret
which concerned others as well as her grandfather, and she said, "At
some future time I will tell you all about it."

"But when will that be?"

"When I am your wife."

The conversation had now turned upon a topic so pleasing to Morrel,
that he was ready to accede to anything that Valentine thought fit to
propose, and he likewise felt that a piece of intelligence such as he
just heard ought to be more than sufficient to content him for one day.
However, he would not leave without the promise of seeing Valentine
again the next night. Valentine promised all that Morrel required of
her, and certainly it was less difficult now for her to believe that she
should marry Maximilian than it was an hour ago to assure herself that
she should not marry Franz. During the time occupied by the interview we
have just detailed, Madame de Villefort had gone to visit M. Noirtier.
The old man looked at her with that stern and forbidding expression with
which he was accustomed to receive her.

"Sir," said she, "it is superfluous for me to tell you that Valentine's
marriage is broken off, since it was here that the affair was
concluded." Noirtier's countenance remained immovable. "But one thing
I can tell you, of which I do not think you are aware; that is, that
I have always been opposed to this marriage, and that the contract
was entered into entirely without my consent or approbation." Noirtier
regarded his daughter-in-law with the look of a man desiring an
explanation. "Now that this marriage, which I know you so much disliked,
is done away with, I come to you on an errand which neither M. de
Villefort nor Valentine could consistently undertake." Noirtier's
eyes demanded the nature of her mission. "I come to entreat you, sir,"
continued Madame de Villefort, "as the only one who has the right of
doing so, inasmuch as I am the only one who will receive no personal
benefit from the transaction,--I come to entreat you to restore, not
your love, for that she has always possessed, but to restore your
fortune to your granddaughter."

There was a doubtful expression in Noirtier's eyes; he was evidently
trying to discover the motive of this proceeding, and he could not
succeed in doing so. "May I hope, sir," said Madame de Villefort, "that
your intentions accord with my request?" Noirtier made a sign that they
did. "In that case, sir," rejoined Madame de Villefort, "I will leave
you overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness at your prompt acquiescence
to my wishes." She then bowed to M. Noirtier and retired.

The next day M. Noirtier sent for the notary; the first will was torn
up and a second made, in which he left the whole of his fortune to
Valentine, on condition that she should never be separated from him. It
was then generally reported that Mademoiselle de Villefort, the heiress
of the marquis and marchioness of Saint-Meran, had regained the
good graces of her grandfather, and that she would ultimately be in
possession of an income of 300,000 livres.

While all the proceedings relative to the dissolution of the
marriage-contract were being carried on at the house of M. de Villefort,
Monte Cristo had paid his visit to the Count of Morcerf, who, in order
to lose no time in responding to M. Danglars' wishes, and at the same
time to pay all due deference to his position in society, donned his
uniform of lieutenant-general, which he ornamented with all his crosses,
and thus attired, ordered his finest horses and drove to the Rue de la
Chausse d'Antin.

Danglars was balancing his monthly accounts, and it was perhaps not the
most favorable moment for finding him in his best humor. At the first
sight of his old friend, Danglars assumed his majestic air, and settled
himself in his easy-chair. Morcerf, usually so stiff and formal,
accosted the banker in an affable and smiling manner, and, feeling sure
that the overture he was about make would be well received, he did not
consider it necessary to adopt any manoeuvres in order to gain his end,
but went at once straight to the point.

"Well, baron," said he, "here I am at last; some time has elapsed since
our plans were formed, and they are not yet executed." Morcerf paused at
these words, quietly waiting till the cloud should have dispersed which
had gathered on the brow of Danglars, and which he attributed to his
silence; but, on the contrary, to his great surprise, it grew darker and
darker. "To what do you allude, monsieur?" said Danglars; as if he were
trying in vain to guess at the possible meaning of the general's words.

"Ah," said Morcerf, "I see you are a stickler for forms, my dear sir,
and you would remind me that the ceremonial rites should not be omitted.
Ma foi, I beg your pardon, but as I have but one son, and it is the
first time I have ever thought of marrying him, I am still serving
my apprenticeship, you know; come, I will reform." And Morcerf with a
forced smile arose, and, making a low bow to M. Danglars, said: "Baron,
I have the honor of asking of you the hand of Mademoiselle Eugenie
Danglars for my son, the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf."

But Danglars, instead of receiving this address in the favorable manner
which Morcerf had expected, knit his brow, and without inviting the
count, who was still standing, to take a seat, he said: "Monsieur, it
will be necessary to reflect before I give you an answer."

"To reflect?" said Morcerf, more and more astonished; "have you not had
enough time for reflection during the eight years which have elapsed
since this marriage was first discussed between us?"

"Count," said the banker, "things are constantly occurring in the world
to induce us to lay aside our most established opinions, or at
all events to cause us to remodel them according to the change of
circumstances, which may have placed affairs in a totally different
light to that in which we at first viewed them."

"I do not understand you, baron," said Morcerf.

"What I mean to say is this, sir,--that during the last fortnight
unforeseen circumstances have occurred"--

"Excuse me," said Morcerf, "but is it a play we are acting?"

"A play?"

"Yes, for it is like one; pray let us come more to the point, and
endeavor thoroughly to understand each other."

"That is quite my desire."

"You have seen M. de Monte Cristo have you not?"

"I see him very often," said Danglars, drawing himself up; "he is a
particular friend of mine."

"Well, in one of your late conversations with him, you said that I
appeared to be forgetful and irresolute concerning this marriage, did
you not?"

"I did say so."

"Well, here I am, proving at once that I am really neither the one nor
the other, by entreating you to keep your promise on that score."

Danglars did not answer. "Have you so soon changed your mind," added
Morcerf, "or have you only provoked my request that you may have the
pleasure of seeing me humbled?" Danglars, seeing that if he continued
the conversation in the same tone in which he had begun it, the whole
thing might turn out to his own disadvantage, turned to Morcerf, and
said: "Count, you must doubtless be surprised at my reserve, and I
assure you it costs me much to act in such a manner towards you; but,
believe me when I say that imperative necessity has imposed the painful
task upon me."

"These are all so many empty words, my dear sir," said Morcerf: "they
might satisfy a new acquaintance, but the Comte de Morcerf does not rank
in that list; and when a man like him comes to another, recalls to him
his plighted word, and this man fails to redeem the pledge, he has at
least a right to exact from him a good reason for so doing." Danglars
was a coward, but did not wish to appear so; he was piqued at the tone
which Morcerf had just assumed. "I am not without a good reason for my
conduct," replied the banker.

"What do you mean to say?"

"I mean to say that I have a good reason, but that it is difficult to
explain."

"You must be aware, at all events, that it is impossible for me to
understand motives before they are explained to me; but one thing at
least is clear, which is, that you decline allying yourself with my
family."

"No, sir," said Danglars; "I merely suspend my decision, that is all."

"And do you really flatter yourself that I shall yield to all your
caprices, and quietly and humbly await the time of again being received
into your good graces?"

"Then, count, if you will not wait, we must look upon these projects
as if they had never been entertained." The count bit his lips till the
blood almost started, to prevent the ebullition of anger which his proud
and irritable temper scarcely allowed him to restrain; understanding,
however, that in the present state of things the laugh would decidedly
be against him, he turned from the door, towards which he had been
directing his steps, and again confronted the banker. A cloud settled
on his brow, evincing decided anxiety and uneasiness, instead of the
expression of offended pride which had lately reigned there. "My dear
Danglars," said Morcerf, "we have been acquainted for many years, and
consequently we ought to make some allowance for each other's failings.
You owe me an explanation, and really it is but fair that I should know
what circumstance has occurred to deprive my son of your favor."

"It is from no personal ill-feeling towards the viscount, that is all I
can say, sir," replied Danglars, who resumed his insolent manner as soon
as he perceived that Morcerf was a little softened and calmed down. "And
towards whom do you bear this personal ill-feeling, then?" said Morcerf,
turning pale with anger. The expression of the count's face had not
remained unperceived by the banker; he fixed on him a look of greater
assurance than before, and said: "You may, perhaps, be better satisfied
that I should not go farther into particulars."

A tremor of suppressed rage shook the whole frame of the count, and
making a violent effort over himself, he said: "I have a right to
insist on your giving me an explanation. Is it Madame de Morcerf who
has displeased you? Is it my fortune which you find insufficient? Is it
because my opinions differ from yours?"

"Nothing of the kind, sir," replied Danglars: "if such had been the
case, I only should have been to blame, inasmuch as I was aware of all
these things when I made the engagement. No, do not seek any longer to
discover the reason. I really am quite ashamed to have been the cause of
your undergoing such severe self-examination; let us drop the subject,
and adopt the middle course of delay, which implies neither a rupture
nor an engagement. Ma foi, there is no hurry. My daughter is only
seventeen years old, and your son twenty-one. While we wait, time will
be progressing, events will succeed each other; things which in the
evening look dark and obscure, appear but too clearly in the light of
morning, and sometimes the utterance of one word, or the lapse of a
single day, will reveal the most cruel calumnies."

"Calumnies, did you say, sir?" cried Morcerf, turning livid with rage.
"Does any one dare to slander me?"

"Monsieur, I told you that I considered it best to avoid all
explanation."

"Then, sir, I am patiently to submit to your refusal?"

"Yes, sir, although I assure you the refusal is as painful for me to
give as it is for you to receive, for I had reckoned on the honor
of your alliance, and the breaking off of a marriage contract always
injures the lady more than the gentleman."

"Enough, sir," said Morcerf, "we will speak no more on the subject." And
clutching his gloves in anger, he left the apartment. Danglars observed
that during the whole conversation Morcerf had never once dared to
ask if it was on his own account that Danglars recalled his word.
That evening he had a long conference with several friends; and M.
Cavalcanti, who had remained in the drawing-room with the ladies, was
the last to leave the banker's house.

The next morning, as soon as he awoke, Danglars asked for the
newspapers; they were brought to him; he laid aside three or four, and
at last fixed on the Impartial, the paper of which Beauchamp was the
chief editor. He hastily tore off the cover, opened the journal with
nervous precipitation, passed contemptuously over the Paris jottings,
and arriving at the miscellaneous intelligence, stopped with a malicious
smile, at a paragraph headed "We hear from Yanina." "Very good,"
observed Danglars, after having read the paragraph; "here is a little
article on Colonel Fernand, which, if I am not mistaken, would render
the explanation which the Comte de Morcerf required of me perfectly
unnecessary."

At the same moment, that is, at nine o'clock in the morning, Albert de
Morcerf, dressed in a black coat buttoned up to his chin, might have
been seen walking with a quick and agitated step in the direction of
Monte Cristo's house in the Champs Elysees. When he presented himself at
the gate the porter informed him that the Count had gone out about half
an hour previously. "Did he take Baptistin with him?"

"No, my lord."

"Call him, then; I wish to speak to him." The concierge went to seek the
valet de chambre, and returned with him in an instant.

"My good friend," said Albert, "I beg pardon for my intrusion, but I
was anxious to know from your own mouth if your master was really out or
not."

"He is really out, sir," replied Baptistin.

"Out, even to me?"

"I know how happy my master always is to receive the vicomte," said
Baptistin; "and I should therefore never think of including him in any
general order."

"You are right; and now I wish to see him on an affair of great
importance. Do you think it will be long before he comes in?"

"No, I think not, for he ordered his breakfast at ten o'clock."

"Well, I will go and take a turn in the Champs Elysees, and at ten
o'clock I will return here; meanwhile, if the count should come in, will
you beg him not to go out again without seeing me?"

"You may depend on my doing so, sir," said Baptistin.

Albert left the cab in which he had come at the count's door, intending
to take a turn on foot. As he was passing the Allee des Veuves, he
thought he saw the count's horses standing at Gosset's shooting-gallery;
he approached, and soon recognized the coachman. "Is the count shooting
in the gallery?" said Morcerf.

"Yes, sir," replied the coachman. While he was speaking, Albert had
heard the report of two or three pistol-shots. He entered, and on his
way met the waiter. "Excuse me, my lord," said the lad; "but will you
have the kindness to wait a moment?"

"What for, Philip?" asked Albert, who, being a constant visitor there,
did not understand this opposition to his entrance.

"Because the person who is now in the gallery prefers being alone, and
never practices in the presence of any one."

"Not even before you, Philip? Then who loads his pistol?"

"His servant."

"A Nubian?"

"A negro."

"It is he, then."

"Do you know this gentleman?"

"Yes, and I am come to look for him; he is a friend of mine."

"Oh, that is quite another thing, then. I will go immediately and inform
him of your arrival." And Philip, urged by his own curiosity, entered
the gallery; a second afterwards, Monte Cristo appeared on the
threshold. "I ask your pardon, my dear count," said Albert, "for
following you here, and I must first tell you that it was not the
fault of your servants that I did so; I alone am to blame for the
indiscretion. I went to your house, and they told me you were out, but
that they expected you home at ten o'clock to breakfast. I was walking
about in order to pass away the time till ten o'clock, when I caught
sight of your carriage and horses."

"What you have just said induces me to hope that you intend breakfasting
with me."

"No, thank you, I am thinking of other things besides breakfast
just now; perhaps we may take that meal at a later hour and in worse
company."

"What on earth are you talking of?"

"I am to fight to-day."

"For what?"

"I am going to fight"--

"Yes, I understand that, but what is the quarrel? People fight for all
sorts of reasons, you know."

"I fight in the cause of honor."

"Ah, that is something serious."

"So serious, that I come to beg you to render me a service."

"What is it?"

"To be my second."

"That is a serious matter, and we will not discuss it here; let us speak
of nothing till we get home. Ali, bring me some water." The count turned
up his sleeves, and passed into the little vestibule where the gentlemen
were accustomed to wash their hands after shooting. "Come in, my lord,"
said Philip in a low tone, "and I will show you something droll."
Morcerf entered, and in place of the usual target, he saw some
playing-cards fixed against the wall. At a distance Albert thought it
was a complete suit, for he counted from the ace to the ten. "Ah, ha,"
said Albert, "I see you were preparing for a game of cards."

"No," said the count, "I was making a suit."

"How?" said Albert.

"Those are really aces and twos which you see, but my shots have turned
them into threes, fives, sevens, eights, nines, and tens." Albert
approached. In fact, the bullets had actually pierced the cards in the
exact places which the painted signs would otherwise have occupied, the
lines and distances being as regularly kept as if they had been ruled
with pencil. "Diable," said Morcerf.

"What would you have, my dear viscount?" said Monte Cristo, wiping his
hands on the towel which Ali had brought him; "I must occupy my leisure
moments in some way or other. But come, I am waiting for you." Both men
entered Monte Cristo's carriage, which in the course of a few minutes
deposited them safely at No. 30. Monte Cristo took Albert into his
study, and pointing to a seat, placed another for himself. "Now let us
talk the matter over quietly," said the count.

"You see I am perfectly composed," said Albert.

"With whom are you going to fight?"

"With Beauchamp."

"One of your friends!"

"Of course; it is always with friends that one fights."

"I suppose you have some cause of quarrel?"

"I have."

"What has he done to you?"

"There appeared in his journal last night--but wait, and read for
yourself." And Albert handed over the paper to the count, who read as
follows:--

"A correspondent at Yanina informs us of a fact of which until now we
had remained in ignorance. The castle which formed the protection of
the town was given up to the Turks by a French officer named Fernand,
in whom the grand vizier, Ali Tepelini, had reposed the greatest
confidence."

"Well," said Monte Cristo, "what do you see in that to annoy you?"

"What do I see in it?"

"Yes; what does it signify to you if the castle of Yanina was given up
by a French officer?"

"It signifies to my father, the Count of Morcerf, whose Christian name
is Fernand!"

"Did your father serve under Ali Pasha?"

"Yes; that is to say, he fought for the independence of the Greeks, and
hence arises the calumny."

"Oh, my dear viscount, do talk reason!"

"I do not desire to do otherwise."

"Now, just tell me who the devil should know in France that the officer
Fernand and the Count of Morcerf are one and the same person? and who
cares now about Yanina, which was taken as long ago as the year 1822 or
1823?"

"That just shows the meanness of this slander. They have allowed all
this time to elapse, and then all of a sudden rake up events which have
been forgotten to furnish materials for scandal, in order to tarnish the
lustre of our high position. I inherit my father's name, and I do not
choose that the shadow of disgrace should darken it. I am going to
Beauchamp, in whose journal this paragraph appears, and I shall insist
on his retracting the assertion before two witnesses."

"Beauchamp will never retract."

"Then he must fight."

"No he will not, for he will tell you, what is very true, that perhaps
there were fifty officers in the Greek army bearing the same name."

"We will fight, nevertheless. I will efface that blot on my father's
character. My father, who was such a brave soldier, whose career was so
brilliant"--

"Oh, well, he will add, 'We are warranted in believing that this
Fernand is not the illustrious Count of Morcerf, who also bears the same
Christian name.'"

"I am determined not to be content with anything short of an entire
retractation."

"And you intend to make him do it in the presence of two witnesses, do
you?"

"Yes."

"You do wrong."

"Which means, I suppose, that you refuse the service which I asked of
you?"

"You know my theory regarding duels; I told you my opinion on that
subject, if you remember, when we were at Rome."

"Nevertheless, my dear count, I found you this morning engaged in
an occupation but little consistent with the notions you profess to
entertain."

"Because, my dear fellow, you understand one must never be eccentric. If
one's lot is cast among fools, it is necessary to study folly. I shall
perhaps find myself one day called out by some harebrained scamp, who
has no more real cause of quarrel with me than you have with Beauchamp;
he may take me to task for some foolish trifle or other, he will bring
his witnesses, or will insult me in some public place, and I am expected
to kill him for all that."

"You admit that you would fight, then? Well, if so, why do you object to
my doing so?"

"I do not say that you ought not to fight, I only say that a duel is a
serious thing, and ought not to be undertaken without due reflection."

"Did he reflect before he insulted my father?"

"If he spoke hastily, and owns that he did so, you ought to be
satisfied."

"Ah, my dear count, you are far too indulgent."

"And you are far too exacting. Supposing, for instance, and do not be
angry at what I am going to say"--

"Well."

"Supposing the assertion to be really true?"

"A son ought not to submit to such a stain on his father's honor."

"Ma foi, we live in times when there is much to which we must submit."

"That is precisely the fault of the age."

"And do you undertake to reform it?"

"Yes, as far as I am personally concerned."

"Well, you the?? indeed exacting, my dear fellow!"

"Yes, I own it."

"Are you quite impervious to good advice?"

"Not when it comes from a friend."

"And do you account me that title?"

"Certainly I do."

"Well, then, before going to Beauchamp with your witnesses, seek further
information on the subject."

"From whom?"

"From Haidee."

"Why, what can be the use of mixing a woman up in the affair?--what can
she do in it?"

"She can declare to you, for example, that your father had no hand
whatever in the defeat and death of the vizier; or if by chance he had,
indeed, the misfortune to"--

"I have told you, my dear count, that I would not for one moment admit
of such a proposition."

"You reject this means of information, then?"

"I do--most decidedly."

"Then let me offer one more word of advice."

"Do so, then, but let it be the last."

"You do not wish to hear it, perhaps?"

"On the contrary, I request it."

"Do not take any witnesses with you when you go to Beauchamp--visit him
alone."

"That would be contrary to all custom."

"Your case is not an ordinary one."

"And what is your reason for advising me to go alone?"

"Because then the affair will rest between you and Beauchamp."

"Explain yourself."

"I will do so. If Beauchamp be disposed to retract, you ought at least
to give him the opportunity of doing it of his own free will,--the
satisfaction to you will be the same. If, on the contrary, he refuses
to do so, it will then be quite time enough to admit two strangers into
your secret."

"They will not be strangers, they will be friends."

"Ah, but the friends of to-day are the enemies of to-morrow; Beauchamp,
for instance."

"So you recommend"--

"I recommend you to be prudent."

"Then you advise me to go alone to Beauchamp?"

"I do, and I will tell you why. When you wish to obtain some concession
from a man's self-love, you must avoid even the appearance of wishing to
wound it."

"I believe you are right."

"I am glad of it."

"Then I will go alone."

"Go; but you would do better still by not going at all."

"That is impossible."

"Do so, then; it will be a wiser plan than the first which you
proposed."

"But if, in spite of all my precautions, I am at last obliged to fight,
will you not be my second?"

"My dear viscount," said Monte Cristo gravely, "you must have seen
before to-day that at all times and in all places I have been at your
disposal, but the service which you have just demanded of me is one
which it is out of my power to render you."

"Why?"

"Perhaps you may know at some future period, and in the mean time
I request you to excuse my declining to put you in possession of my
reasons."

"Well, I will have Franz and Chateau-Renaud; they will be the very men
for it."

"Do so, then."

"But if I do fight, you will surely not object to giving me a lesson or
two in shooting and fencing?"

"That, too, is impossible."

"What a singular being you are!--you will not interfere in anything."

"You are right--that is the principle on which I wish to act."

"We will say no more about it, then. Good-by, count." Morcerf took his
hat, and left the room. He found his carriage at the door, and doing his
utmost to restrain his anger he went at once to find Beauchamp, who
was in his office. It was a gloomy, dusty-looking apartment, such as
journalists' offices have always been from time immemorial. The servant
announced M. Albert de Morcerf. Beauchamp repeated the name to himself,
as though he could scarcely believe that he had heard aright, and then
gave orders for him to be admitted. Albert entered. Beauchamp uttered an
exclamation of surprise on seeing his friend leap over and trample under
foot all the newspapers which were strewed about the room. "This way,
this way, my dear Albert!" said he, holding out his hand to the young
man. "Are you out of your senses, or do you come peaceably to take
breakfast with me? Try and find a seat--there is one by that geranium,
which is the only thing in the room to remind me that there are other
leaves in the world besides leaves of paper."

"Beauchamp," said Albert, "it is of your journal that I come to speak."

"Indeed? What do you wish to say about it?"

"I desire that a statement contained in it should be rectified."

"To what do you refer? But pray sit down."

"Thank you," said Albert, with a cold and formal bow.

"Will you now have the kindness to explain the nature of the statement
which has displeased you?"

"An announcement has been made which implicates the honor of a member of
my family."

"What is it?" said Beauchamp, much surprised; "surely you must be
mistaken."

"The story sent you from Yanina."

"Yanina?"

"Yes; really you appear to be totally ignorant of the cause which brings
me here."

"Such is really the case, I assure you, upon my honor! Baptiste, give me
yesterday's paper," cried Beauchamp.

"Here, I have brought mine with me," replied Albert.

Beauchamp took the paper, and read the article to which Albert pointed
in an undertone. "You see it is a serious annoyance," said Morcerf, when
Beauchamp had finished the perusal of the paragraph. "Is the officer
referred to a relation of yours, then?" demanded the journalist.

"Yes," said Albert, blushing.

"Well, what do you wish me to do for you?" said Beauchamp mildly.

"My dear Beauchamp, I wish you to contradict this statement." Beauchamp
looked at Albert with a benevolent expression.

"Come," said he, "this matter will want a good deal of talking over; a
retractation is always a serious thing, you know. Sit down, and I will
read it again." Albert resumed his seat, and Beauchamp read, with more
attention than at first, the lines denounced by his friend. "Well," said
Albert in a determined tone, "you see that your paper his insulted a
member of my family, and I insist on a retractation being made."

"You insist?"

"Yes, I insist."

"Permit me to remind you that you are not in the Chamber, my dear
Viscount."

"Nor do I wish to be there," replied the young man, rising. "I repeat
that I am determined to have the announcement of yesterday contradicted.
You have known me long enough," continued Albert, biting his lips
convulsively, for he saw that Beauchamp's anger was beginning to
rise,--"you have been my friend, and therefore sufficiently intimate
with me to be aware that I am likely to maintain my resolution on this
point."

"If I have been your friend, Morcerf, your present manner of speaking
would almost lead me to forget that I ever bore that title. But wait a
moment, do not let us get angry, or at least not yet. You are irritated
and vexed--tell me how this Fernand is related to you?"

"He is merely my father," said Albert--"M. Fernand Mondego, Count of
Morcerf, an old soldier who has fought in twenty battles and whose
honorable scars they would denounce as badges of disgrace."

"Is it your father?" said Beauchamp; "that is quite another thing. Then
can well understand your indignation, my dear Albert. I will look at it
again;" and he read the paragraph for the third time, laying a stress
on each word as he proceeded. "But the paper nowhere identifies this
Fernand with your father."

"No; but the connection will be seen by others, and therefore I will
have the article contradicted." At the words "I will," Beauchamp
steadily raised his eyes to Albert's countenance, and then as gradually
lowering them, he remained thoughtful for a few moments. "You will
retract this assertion, will you not, Beauchamp?" said Albert with
increased though stifled anger.

"Yes," replied Beauchamp.

"Immediately?" said Albert.

"When I am convinced that the statement is false."

"What?"

"The thing is worth looking into, and I will take pains to investigate
the matter thoroughly."

"But what is there to investigate, sir?" said Albert, enraged beyond
measure at Beauchamp's last remark. "If you do not believe that it is my
father, say so immediately; and if, on the contrary, you believe it to
be him, state your reasons for doing so." Beauchamp looked at Albert
with the smile which was so peculiar to him, and which in its numerous
modifications served to express every varied emotion of his mind. "Sir,"
replied he, "if you came to me with the idea of demanding satisfaction,
you should have gone at once to the point, and not have entertained me
with the idle conversation to which I have been patiently listening for
the last half hour. Am I to put this construction on your visit?"

"Yes, if you will not consent to retract that infamous calumny."

"Wait a moment--no threats, if you please, M. Fernand Mondego, Vicomte
de Morcerf; I never allow them from my enemies, and therefore shall not
put up with them from my friends. You insist on my contradicting the
article relating to General Fernand, an article with which, I assure you
on my word of honor, I had nothing whatever to do?"

"Yes, I insist on it," said Albert, whose mind was beginning to get
bewildered with the excitement of his feelings.

"And if I refuse to retract, you wish to fight, do you?" said Beauchamp
in a calm tone.

"Yes," replied Albert, raising his voice.

"Well," said Beauchamp, "here is my answer, my dear sir. The article
was not inserted by me--I was not even aware of it; but you have, by the
step you have taken, called my attention to the paragraph in question,
and it will remain until it shall be either contradicted or confirmed by
some one who has a right to do so."

"Sir," said Albert, rising, "I will do myself the honor of sending my
seconds to you, and you will be kind enough to arrange with them the
place of meeting and the weapons."

"Certainly, my dear sir."

"And this evening, if you please, or to-morrow at the latest, we will
meet."

"No, no, I will be on the ground at the proper time; but in my opinion
(and I have a right to dictate the preliminaries, as it is I who have
received the provocation)--in my opinion the time ought not to be yet.
I know you to be well skilled in the management of the sword, while I am
only moderately so; I know, too, that you are a good marksman--there we
are about equal. I know that a duel between us two would be a serious
affair, because you are brave, and I am brave also. I do not therefore
wish either to kill you, or to be killed myself without a cause. Now, I
am going to put a question to you, and one very much to the purpose too.
Do you insist on this retractation so far as to kill me if I do not make
it, although I have repeated more than once, and affirmed on my honor,
that I was ignorant of the thing with which you charge me, and although
I still declare that it is impossible for any one but you to recognize
the Count of Morcerf under the name of Fernand?"

"I maintain my original resolution."

"Very well, my dear sir; then I consent to cut throats with you. But I
require three weeks' preparation; at the end of that time I shall come
and say to you, 'The assertion is false, and I retract it,' or 'The
assertion is true,' when I shall immediately draw the sword from its
sheath, or the pistols from the case, whichever you please."

"Three weeks!" cried Albert; "they will pass as slowly as three
centuries when I am all the time suffering dishonor."

"Had you continued to remain on amicable terms with me, I should have
said, 'Patience, my friend;' but you have constituted yourself my enemy,
therefore I say, 'What does that signify to me, sir?'"

"Well, let it be three weeks then," said Morcerf; "but remember, at the
expiration of that time no delay or subterfuge will justify you in"--

"M. Albert de Morcerf," said Beauchamp, rising in his turn, "I cannot
throw you out of window for three weeks--that is to say, for twenty-four
days to come--nor have you any right to split my skull open till that
time has elapsed. To-day is the 29th of August; the 21st of September
will, therefore, be the conclusion of the term agreed on, and till that
time arrives--and it is the advice of a gentleman which I am about to
give you--till then we will refrain from growling and barking like two
dogs chained within sight of each other." When he had concluded his
speech, Beauchamp bowed coldly to Albert, turned his back upon him, and
went to the press-room.

Albert vented his anger on a pile of newspapers, which he sent flying
all over the office by switching them violently with his stick; after
which ebullition he departed--not, however, without walking several
times to the door of the press-room, as if he had half a mind to enter.
While Albert was lashing the front of his carriage in the same manner
that he had the newspapers which were the innocent agents of his
discomfiture, as he was crossing the barrier he perceived Morrel, who
was walking with a quick step and a bright eye. He was passing the
Chinese Baths, and appeared to have come from the direction of the Porte
Saint-Martin, and to be going towards the Madeleine. "Ah," said Morcerf,
"there goes a happy man!" And it so happened Albert was not mistaken in
his opinion.