"You have to look for Manuelita's father, show him the money, and remind him of his pledge."
Pale, not able to utter a word, Jacopo stared at the count; Monte-Cristo waited a moment, and then said, smilingly:
"Have you now understood me?"
"No, master—I do not comprehend—"
"Nay, one might almost believe that you have not a grain of sense. The amount is your property—you have deserved it honestly."
"I deserve it? Oh, you make sport of me! If I have done my duty, that is my best recompense."
"Yes, for your services as captain of the yacht. But there are also other services which cannot be paid for; submission, honesty, and courage cannot be paid for in gold, and in spite of the 20,000 francs I remain still your debtor."
"Oh, master, you make me feel ashamed!"
"Jacopo," said the count, sorrowfully, "do not speak like that. Of what value is money to me? I can give you still more, but to what purpose? You have enough to be happy; you have had a dream of domestic happiness, try to realize it! Your desires are moderate; you intend to work and be useful from morning to night, and as the only reward for your labor you require Manuelita's love. Have you any further wishes, my brave man?"