“But I explained to him the cause of my refusal,” replied Dantès, “and I hope he fully understood it.”
“Yes, but to be captain one must do a little flattery to one’s patrons.”
“I hope to be captain without that,” said Dantès.
“So much the better—so much the better! Nothing will give greater pleasure to all your old friends; and I know one down there behind the Saint Nicolas citadel who will not be sorry to hear it.”
“Mercédès?” said the old man.
“Yes, my dear father, and with your permission, now I have seen you, and know you are well and have all you require, I will ask your consent to go and pay a visit to the Catalans.”
“Go, my dear boy,” said old Dantès; “and Heaven bless you in your wife, as it has blessed me in my son!”
“His wife!” said Caderousse; “why, how fast you go on, father Dantès; she is not his wife yet, as it seems to me.”
“No, but according to all probability she soon will be,” replied Edmond.
“Yes—yes,” said Caderousse; “but you were right to return as soon as possible, my boy.”
“And why?”
“Because Mercédès is a very fine girl, and fine girls never lack followers; she particularly has them by dozens.”
“Really?” answered Edmond, with a smile which had in it traces of slight uneasiness.