he was a more unhappy lover than you.”
“And has he found consolation?”
“He has at least found peace.”
“And does he ever expect to be happy?”
“He hopes so, Maximilian.”
The young man’s head fell on his breast.
“You have my promise,” he said, after a minute’s pause, extending his hand to Monte Cristo. “Only remember—”
“On the 5th of October, Morrel, I shall expect you at the Island of Monte Cristo. On the 4th a yacht will wait for you in the port of Bastia, it will be called the Eurus . You will give your name to the captain, who will bring you to me. It is understood—is it not?”