CHAPTER XLV
MALDAR
Haydee and Mercedes were seated in a magnificently furnished boudoir, engaged in a lively conversation. Spero's dark head lay in his mother's lap. They were both talking of their beloved ones. Mercedes said, that if Albert died her life would be at an end. Haydee only thought of Spero.
Spero, too, thought about the seriousness of his position, and was in this, as in other things, far in advance of his age. He felt deep despair at the idea of a separation from his mother, but the halo which surrounded his father gave the boy courage.
Six o'clock had now struck. Haydee's arm clung tighter to Spero, and a tear fell upon the youth's dark locks.
Monte-Cristo softly opened the door and entered. His face looked pale and careworn. Spero ran to meet his father. The count took him in his arms and softly asked:
"Are you ready, my son?"
"Yes, father," replied Spero, simply; "where you go, I follow."
Haydee hurriedly dried her tears as Monte-Cristo drew nearer. She clung to his bosom, and whispered: