dead, and has not pardoned me.”
“He did not know,” said the abbé.
“But he knows it all now,” interrupted Caderousse; “they say the dead know everything.”
There was a brief silence; the abbé rose and paced up and down pensively, and then resumed his seat.
“You have two or three times mentioned a M. Morrel,” he said; “who was he?”
“The owner of the Pharaon and patron of Dantès.”
“And what part did he play in this sad drama?” inquired the abbé.
“The part of an honest man, full of courage and real regard. Twenty times he interceded for Edmond. When the emperor returned, he wrote, implored, threatened, and so energetically, that on the second restoration he was persecuted as a Bonapartist. Ten times, as I told you, he came to see Dantès’