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to prevent his swallowing three or four pints of water unnecessarily!”

      Fernand gave a groan, which resembled a sob, and dropped his head into his hands, his elbows leaning on the table.

      “Well, Fernand, I must say,” said Caderousse, beginning the conversation, with that brutality of the common people in which curiosity destroys all diplomacy, “you look uncommonly like a rejected lover;” and he burst into a hoarse laugh.

      “Bah!” said Danglars, “a lad of his make was not born to be unhappy in love. You are laughing at him, Caderousse.”

      “No,” he replied, “only hark how he sighs! Come, come, Fernand,” said Caderousse, “hold up your head, and answer us. It’s not polite not to reply to friends who ask news of your health.”

      “My health is well enough,” said Fernand, clinching his hands without raising his head.

      “Ah, you see, Danglars,” said Caderousse, winking at his friend, “this is how it is; Fernand, whom you see here, is a good and brave Catalan, one of the best fishermen in Marseilles, and he is in love with a very fine girl, named Mercedes; but it appears, unfortunately, that the fine girl is in love with the mate of the Pharaon; and as the Pharaon arrived to-day — why, you understand!”

      “No; I do not understand,” said Danglars.

      “Poor Fernand has been dismissed,” continued Caderousse.

      “Well, and what then?” said Fernand, lifting up his head, and looking at Caderousse like a man who looks for some one on whom to vent his anger; “Mercedes is not accountable to any person, is she? Is she not free to love whomsoever she will?”

      “Oh, if you take it in that sense,” said Caderousse, “it is another thing. But I thought you were a Catalan, and they told me the Catalans were not men to allow themselves to be supplanted by a rival. It was even told me that Fernand, especially, was terrible in his vengeance.”

      Fernand smiled piteously. “A lover is never terrible,” he said.

      “Poor fellow!” remarked Danglars, affecting to pity the young man from the bottom of his heart. “Why, you see, he did not expect to see Dantes return so suddenly — he thought he was dead, perhaps; or perchance faithless! These things always come on us more severely when they come suddenly.”

      “Ah, ma foi, under any circumstances,” said Caderousse, who drank as he spoke, and on whom the fumes of the wine began to take effect, — “under any circumstances Fernand is not the only person put out by the fortunate arrival of Dantes; is he, Danglars?”

      “No, you are right — and I should say that would bring him ill-luck.”

      “Well, never mind,” answered Caderousse, pouring out a glass of wine for Fernand, and filling his own for the eighth or ninth time, while Danglars had merely sipped his. “Never mind — in the meantime he marries Mercedes — the lovely Mercedes — at least he returns to do that.”

      During this time Danglars fixed his piercing glance on the young man, on whose heart Caderousse’s words fell like molten lead.

      “And when is the wedding to be?” he asked.

      “Oh, it is not yet fixed!” murmured Fernand.

      “No, but it will be,” said Caderousse, “as surely as Dantes will be captain of the Pharaon — eh, Danglars?”

      Danglars shuddered at this unexpected attack, and turned to Caderousse, whose countenance he scrutinized, to try and detect whether the blow was premeditated; but he read nothing but envy in a countenance already rendered brutal and stupid by drunkenness.

      “Well,” said he, filling the glasses, “let us drink to Captain Edmond Dantes, husband of the beautiful Catalane!”

      Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with unsteady hand, and swallowed the contents at a gulp. Fernand dashed his on the ground.

      “Eh, eh, eh!” stammered Caderousse. “What do I see down there by the wall, in the direction of the Catalans? Look, Fernand, your eyes are better than mine. I believe I see double. You know wine is a deceiver; but I should say it was two lovers walking side by side, and hand in hand. Heaven forgive me, they do not know that we can see them, and they are actually embracing!”

      Danglars did not lose one pang that Fernand endured.

      “Do you know them, Fernand?” he said.

      “Yes,” was the reply, in a low voice. “It is Edmond and Mercedes!”

      “Ah, see there, now!” said Caderousse; “and I did not recognize them! Hallo, Dantes! hello, lovely damsel! Come this way, and let us know when the wedding is to be, for Fernand here is so obstinate he will not tell us.”

      “Hold your tongue, will you?” said Danglars, pretending to restrain Caderousse, who, with the tenacity of drunkards, leaned out of the arbor. “Try to stand upright, and let the lovers make love without interruption. See, look at Fernand, and follow his example; he is well-behaved!”

      Fernand, probably excited beyond bearing, pricked by Danglars, as the bull is by the bandilleros, was about to rush out; for he had risen from his seat, and seemed to be collecting himself to dash headlong upon his rival, when Mercedes, smiling and graceful, lifted up her lovely head, and looked at them with her clear and bright eyes. At this Fernand recollected her threat of dying if Edmond died, and dropped again heavily on his seat. Danglars looked at the two men, one after the other, the one brutalized by liquor, the other overwhelmed with love.

      “I shall get nothing from these fools,” he muttered; “and I am very much afraid of being here between a drunkard and a coward. Here’s an envious fellow making himself boozy on wine when he ought to be nursing his wrath, and here is a fool who sees the woman he loves stolen from under his nose and takes on like a big baby. Yet this Catalan has eyes that glisten like those of the vengeful Spaniards, Sicilians, and Calabrians, and the other has fists big enough to crush an ox at one blow. Unquestionably, Edmond’s star is in the ascendant, and he will marry the splendid girl — he will be captain, too, and laugh at us all, unless” — a sinister smile passed over Danglars’ lips — “unless I take a hand in the affair,” he added.

      “Hallo!” continued Caderousse, half-rising, and with his fist on the table, “hallo, Edmond! do you not see your friends, or are you too proud to speak to them?”

      “No, my dear fellow!” replied Dantes, “I am not proud, but I am happy, and happiness blinds, I think, more than pride.”

      “Ah, very well, that’s an explanation!” said Caderousse. “How do you do, Madame Dantes?”

      Mercedes courtesied gravely, and said — “That is not my name, and in my country it bodes ill fortune, they say, to call a young girl by the name of her betrothed before he becomes her husband. So call me Mercedes, if you please.”

      “We must excuse our worthy neighbor, Caderousse,” said Dantes, “he is so easily mistaken.”

      “So, then, the wedding is to take place immediately, M. Dantes,” said Danglars, bowing to the young couple.

      “As soon as possible, M. Danglars; to-day all preliminaries will be arranged at my father’s, and tomorrow, or next day at latest, the wedding festival here at La Reserve. My friends will be there, I hope; that is to say, you are invited, M. Danglars, and you, Caderousse.”

      “And Fernand,” said Caderousse with a chuckle; “Fernand, too, is invited!”

      “My wife’s brother is my brother,” said Edmond; “and we, Mercedes and I, should be very sorry if he were absent at such a time.”

      Fernand opened his mouth to reply, but his voice died on his lips, and he could not utter a word.

      “To-day the preliminaries, tomorrow or next day the ceremony! You are in a hurry, captain!”

      “Danglars,” said Edmond, smiling, “I will say to you as

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