“Yes, indeed but one!” said the major with a sigh.
“‘Which is to recover a lost and adored son.’”
“A lost and adored son!”
“‘Stolen away in his infancy, either by an enemy of his noble family or by the gypsies.’”
“At the age of five years!” said the major with a deep sigh, and raising his eye to heaven.
“Unhappy father,” said Monte Cristo. The count continued:
“‘I have given him renewed life and hope, in the assurance that you have the power of restoring the son whom he has vainly sought for fifteen years.’”
The major looked at the count with an indescribable expression of anxiety.
“I have the power of so doing,” said Monte Cristo. The major recovered his self-possession.
“So, then,” said he, “the letter was true to the end?”