“Now, sir, I have one request to make to you, which you will understand, even if it should be disagreeable to you.”

“Proceed,” said Monte Cristo.

“I have formed an acquaintance, thanks to my good fortune, with many noted persons, and have, at least for the moment, a crowd of friends. But marrying, as I am about to do, before all Paris, I ought to be supported by an illustrious name, and in the absence of the paternal hand some powerful one ought to lead me to the altar; now, my father is not coming to Paris, is he?”

“He is old, covered with wounds, and suffers dreadfully, he says, in travelling.”

“I understand; well, I am come to ask a favor of you.”

“Of me?”

“Yes, of you.”

“And pray what may it be?”