"Or?" repeated Morrel.
"Or, take care, Morrel, lest I call you ungrateful."
"Have pity on me, count!"
"I feel so much pity toward you, Maximilian, that—listen to me attentively—if I do not cure you in a month, to the day, to the very hour, mark my words, Morrel, I will place loaded pistols before you, arid a cup full of the deadliest Italian poison—a poison more sure and prompt than that which has killed Valentine." .
"Will you promise me?"
"Yes; for I am a man, as I have told you, who has wished to die; indeed, often since misfortune has left me, I have longed for the delights of an eternal sleep."
"But you are sure you will promise me this?" said Morrel, intoxicated.
"I not only promise but swear it!" said Monte-Cristo, extending his hand.
"In a month, then, on your honor, if I am not consoled, you will let me take my life into my own hands, and, whatever may happen, you will not call me ungrateful?"
"In a month, to the day; the very hour and the date is a sacred one, Maximilian. I do not know whether you remember that this is the 5th of September; it is ten years to-day since I saved your father's life, who wished to die."
Morrel seized the count's hand and kissed it; the count allowed him to pay the homage he felt due to him.
"In a month you will find on the table, at which we shall be then sitting, good pistols and a delicious draught; but, on the other hand, you must promise me not to attempt your life before that time."
"Oh! I swear it."
Monte-Cristo drew the young man toward him, and pressed him for some time to his heart. "And now," he said, "after to-day, you will come and live with me; you can occupy Haydée's apartments, and my daughter will at least be replaced by my son."
"Haydée?" said Morrel, "what has become of her?"
"She departed last night."
"To leave you?"
"To wait for me. Hold yourself ready then to join me at the Champs Elysées, and lead me out of this house without any one seeing my departure."
Maximilian hung his head, and obeyed with childlike reverence.
