A MOTHER
For a moment Mercedes and the count stood motionless opposite each
other; then Monte-Cristo extended his hand to the sobbing woman, and in
a faltering voice he begged:
"Mercedes--to-day I know that I have sinned--I have punished harder than
I had a right to do, and I can only supplicate you to forgive me. Take
my life and I shall not murmur. I thought to fulfil my duty, and have
executed revenge!"
"No, Edmond--do not talk like this!" said Mercedes, softly; "the lot
which met me I deserved even more than--Broken faithfulness must always
revenge itself bitterly. The misfortune which nowadays pulls me down has
nothing to do with the past, and therefore I ask your help."
"Then speak, Mercedes--I hear," replied Monte-Cristo, simply.
"Edmond," began Mercedes, without further apologies, "you know what was
the intention of my son, for whom I was attached to life when everything
around was destroyed. Alas! Albert is the favorite of my heart; do not
think me foolish, if I tell you he was worthy of you! His letters,
which, breathe of his uninterrupted, faithful filial love, have kept me
alive ten long, lonesome and weary years; when I read his tender words,
when he embraced me, all my hopes centred in the moment when we should
meet again! But suddenly all letters ceased to arrive. I waited many a
long day, weeks, months, but all in vain--no news came.
"I anxiously read all papers--I inquired and hoped, but I could bring
nothing to light. At length I resolved to write to Paris to the Minister
of War--I received no answer, and my despair increased daily.
"Then an accident led Monsieur Beauchamp to Marseilles--I took heart to
look for him, and acquainted him with my sorrow. He received me very
kindly, listened to me, and promised to exert himself to obtain some
information for me. After eight days I received the sad news--"
"Then Albert is dead?" said the count, sorrowfully.
"Oh, God, no--say not so--he cannot, he dare not be dead!" sobbed
Mercedes. "The news which Beauchamp acquainted me with was disheartening
enough. My poor son, captain in the first Zouave regiment, or the
so-called Jackals, about three months ago, after an expedition against
the Kabyles, disappeared; they fear the wild horde has taken him away!"
Monte-Cristo reflected a moment and then inquired: "Did it happen before
or after the submission of Abd-el-Kader?"
"After, as much as I can tell. Monsieur Beauchamp, however, was not
satisfied with the uncertain reports--he informed me that a Zouave from
Albert's regiment was on furlough in Paris, and he would not fail to
have the Zouave sent to Marseilles to inform me of all, in a more
particular way."
"And has this Zouave arrived?" inquired Monte-Cristo, animatedly.
"Yes, a few days since."
"And what does he say?"
"He maintains Albert is still alive."
"Then we may yet hope for the best, Mercedes," said Monte-Cristo,
consolingly. "God owes you a recompense, and you will see your son
again!"
"If you say so, I believe it," replied Mercedes sincerely.
"May I also speak with the Zouave?"
"Certainly--he is downstairs now."
"Then let him come up; I should like to ask him a few questions."
Mercedes called the sergeant; Monte-Cristo looked at her pitifully and
then whispered:
"Mercedes--here this has reference to my life--you have known me from
childhood--have I ever broken my word?"
"Oh, no--only I am guilty of it!"
"I did not wish to hear of that--you have my oath, and with the help of
God I shall keep the same!"