man, who still remained seated, but whose eye was fixed on
the denunciatory sheet of paper flung into the corner.

"In this case," replied Caderousse, "let's have some more
wine. I wish to drink to the health of Edmond and the lovely
Mercedes."

"You have had too much already, drunkard," said Danglars;
"and if you continue, you will be compelled to sleep here,
because unable to stand on your legs."

"I?" said Caderousse, rising with all the offended dignity
of a drunken man, "I can't keep on my legs? Why, I'll wager
I can go up into the belfry of the Accoules, and without
staggering, too!"

"Done!" said Danglars, "I'll take your bet; but to-morrow --
to-day it is time to return. Give me your arm, and let us
go."

"Very well, let us go," said Caderousse; "but I don't want
your arm at all. Come, Fernand, won't you return to
Marseilles with us?"

"No," said Fernand; "I shall return to the Catalans."

"You're wrong. Come with us to Marseilles -- come along."

"I will not."

"What do you mean? you will not? Well, just as you like, my
prince; there's liberty for all the world. Come along,
Danglars, and let the young gentleman return to the Catalans
if he chooses."

Danglars took advantage of Caderousse's temper at the
moment, to take him off towards Marseilles by the Porte
Saint-Victor, staggering as he went.

When they had advanced about twenty yards, Danglars looked
back and saw Fernand stoop, pick up the crumpled paper, and
putting it into his pocket then rush out of the arbor
towards Pillon.

"Well," said Caderousse, "why, what a lie he told! He said
he was going to the Catalans, and he is going to the city.
Hallo, Fernand!"

"Oh, you don't see straight," said Danglars; "he's gone
right enough."

"Well," said Caderousse, "I should have said not -- how
treacherous wine is!"

"Come, come," said Danglars to himself, "now the thing is at
work and it will effect its purpose unassisted."



Chapter 5
The Marriage-Feast.

The morning's sun rose clear and resplendent, touching the
foamy waves into a network of ruby-tinted light.

The feast had been made ready on the second floor at La
Reserve, with whose arbor the reader is already familiar.
The apartment destined for the purpose was spacious and
lighted by a number of windows, over each of which was
written in golden letters for some inexplicable reason the
name of one of the principal cities of France; beneath these
windows a wooden balcony extended the entire length of the
house. And although the entertainment was fixed for twelve
o'clock, an hour previous to that time the balcony was
filled with impatient and expectant guests, consisting of
the favored part of the crew of the Pharaon, and other
personal friends of the bride-groom, the whole of whom had
arrayed themselves in their choicest costumes, in order to
do greater honor to the occasion.

Various rumors were afloat to the effect that the owners of
the Pharaon had promised to attend the nuptial feast; but
all seemed unanimous in doubting that an act of such rare
and exceeding condescension could possibly be intended.

Danglars, however, who now made his appearance, accompanied
by Caderousse, effectually confirmed the report, stating
that he had recently conversed with M. Morrel, who had
himself assured him of his intention to dine at La Reserve.

In fact, a moment later M. Morrel appeared and was saluted
with an enthusiastic burst of applause from the crew of the
Pharaon, who hailed the visit of the shipowner as a sure
indication that the man whose wedding feast he thus
delighted to honor would ere long be first in command of the
ship; and as Dantes was universally beloved on board his
vessel, the sailors put no restraint on their tumultuous joy
at finding that the opinion and choice of their superiors so
exactly coincided with their own.