“I have a passport, and my clothes are ready packed,” said Morrel, in his tranquil but mournful manner.
“Good!” said Monte-Cristo, smiling; “in these prompt arrangements we recognize the order of a well-disciplined soldier.”
“And you quit us thus?” said Julie, “at a moment’s warning; you do not give us a day – no, not even an hour before your departure?”
“My carriage is at the door, madame; and I must be in Rome in five days.”
“But does Maximilian go to Rome?” exclaimed Emmanuel.
“I am going wherever it may please the count to lead me,” said Morrel, with a smile full of grief; “I am devoted to him for the next month.”
“Oh! heavens! how strangely he expresses himself, count!” said Julie.
“Maximilian accompanies me,” said the count, in his kindest and most persuasive manner; “therefore do not make yourself uneasy on your brother’s account.”
“Once more farewell, my dear sister; Emmanuel, adieu!” Morrel repeated.
“His carelessness and indifference touch me to the heart,” said Julie. “Oh! Maximilian, Maximilian, you are certainly concealing something from us.”
“Pshaw!” said Monte-Cristo, “you will see him return to you gay, smiling, and joyful.”
Maximilian cast a look of disdain, almost of anger, on the count.
“We must leave you,” said Monte-Cristo.
“Before you quit us, count,” said Julie, “will you permit us to express to you all that the other day –”
“Madame,” interrupted the count, taking her two hands in his, “all that you could say in words would never express that which I read in your eyes; the thoughts of your heart are fully understood by mine. Like benefactors in romances, I should have left you without seeing you again; but that would have been a virtue beyond my strength, because I am a weak and vain man, fond of the tender, kind, and thankful glances of my fellow creatures. On the eve of departure, I carry my egotism so far as to say, ‘Do not forget me, my kind friends, for probably you will never see me again.’”
“Never see you again!” exclaimed Emmanuel, while two large tears rolled down Julie’s cheeks, “never behold you again! It is not a man then, but some angel, that leaves us, and this angel is on the point of returning to heaven after having appeared on earth to do good.”
“Say not so,” quickly returned Monte-Cristo, – “say not so, my friends; angels never err, celestial beings remain where they wish to be: fate is not more powerful than they; it is they who, on the contrary, overcome fate. No! Emmanuel, I am but a man, and your admiration is as unmerited as your words are sacrilegious.”
And pressing his lips on the hand of Julie, who rushed into his arms,, he extended his other hand to Emmanuel; then tearing himself from this house, the abode of peace and happiness, he made a sign to Maximilian, who followed him passively, with the indifference which was perceptible in him ever since the death of Valentine had so stunned him.
“Restore my brother to peace and happiness,” whispered Julie to Monte-Cristo. And the count pressed her hand in reply, as he had done eleven years before on the staircase leading to Morrel’s study.
“You still confide, then, in Sindbad the Sailor?” asked he, smiling.