"Upon my word, Messieurs," cried Ledru Rollin, "your praises of M. Dantès and Madame, his beautiful wife, are perfectly enthusiastic—so much so, that, in your zeal, you utterly forgot another matter quite as momentous. I am so unfortunate as to know M. Dantès only as one of the great pillars of our noble cause, and a man who, for nearly six years, has proven himself an apostle of man's rights, and ready, if need be, to become a martyr! That's enough for me to know of him!"
"But who really are M. Dantès and his wife?" asked Flocon.
"Who really are any of us?" laughingly rejoined Louis Blanc.
"Who really is any one in Paris," continued Marrast, "the blood-royal always and alone excepted?"
"Of M. Dantès this only is known," said Louis Blanc, "that for five or six years past he has been a Deputy from Marseilles, Lyons and other southern cities, all of which have been eager to honor themselves by returning him as their representative, as one of the boldest and most eloquent Republicans in all France; as for Madame Dantès, we know her to have once been the Countess de Morcerf, but now the wife of our friend, and one of the noblest and most lovely matrons in Paris. What need have we to know more? But our friend comes."
While this conversation was proceeding, Dantès and Mercédès had joined each other, and their hands were quietly clasped.
"Is all well, Edmond?" was the anxious inquiry of the fond wife, in low, soft, musical tones, as she fixed upon his pale face her dark eyes, beaming with the tenderest solicitude.
"All is well, love," replied the husband. "You will pardon my protracted absence, when I tell you it has been unavoidable—will you not, Mercédès?"
"Will I not? What a question! But I have been so anxious for your safety, knowing the perilous business in which you are engaged; and the night is so tempestuous."
"You forget that I have a constitution of iron, dear," replied Dantès; "you forget that I was a sailor once, and the storms were my playthings!"