“I met him on the boulevard, on my way here,” said Beauchamp. “I think he is about to leave Paris; he was going to his banker.”
“His banker? Danglars is his banker, is he not?” asked Château-Renaud of Debray.
“I believe so,” replied the secretary with slight uneasiness. “But Monte Cristo is not the only one I miss here; I do not see Morrel.”
“Morrel? Do they know him?” asked Château-Renaud. “I think he has only been introduced to Madame de Villefort.”
“Still, he ought to have been here,” said Debray; “I wonder what will be talked about tonight; this funeral is the news of the day. But hush, here comes our minister of justice; he will feel obliged to make some little speech to the cousin,” and the three young men drew near to listen.
Beauchamp told the truth when he said that on his way to the funeral he had met Monte Cristo, who was directing his steps towards the Rue de la Chaussée d’Antin, to M. Danglars’. The banker saw the carriage of the count enter the courtyard, and advanced to meet him with a sad, though affable smile.
“Well,” said he, extending his hand to Monte Cristo, “I suppose you have come to sympathize with me, for indeed misfortune has taken possession of my house.