CHAPTER XIII.
MORCERF'S ADVENTURE.
The Count of Monte-Cristo took no steps to have the miscreants who had
invaded the sanctity of his home tracked and apprehended; he did not
even instruct the Commissary of Police of the quarter in regard to what
had happened. He was entirely satisfied that the sole aim of the
wretches had been robbery, and, as that aim had been defeated, he did
not desire to court further publicity by putting the matter in the hands
of the authorities. One thing, however, gave the Count considerable
uneasiness, namely, the fact that Danglars had been one of the robbers.
He did not doubt that the former banker, whom he had financially wrecked
and forced to fly ignominiously from Paris in the past in pursuit of his
scheme of wholesale vengeance against the enemies of his youth, had
planned the robbery in order to gratify his burning thirst for revenge;
he also felt equally certain that Danglars meant further mischief, if he
could accomplish it, and that his presence in the city would be a
constant menace to his tranquillity and prosperity, nay, even to his
domestic happiness; but his feelings had undergone a radical change
since the old days of restless, inexorable retribution, and he now
pitied the man he had so ruthlessly overthrown as much as he had
formerly hated him. Danglars had fallen very low, indeed, to be the
companion and accomplice of midnight marauders, and the Count's very
soul ached as he thought to what depths of poverty and ignominy he had
been the means of reducing him. He would have sought him out amid the
dangerous criminal population of Paris, traced him to his den of
depravity and wretchedness, and offered him money and the means of
social rehabilitation had there been the slightest reason to hope that
he could thereby rescue the miserable man from the slough of iniquity
into which he was plunged, but he knew too well Danglars' implacable
character and deep-seated hatred against himself to attempt anything of
the kind. Should he penetrate into his haunts and meet him the result
could only be disastrous, for Danglars would take a fiendish delight in
betraying him to his desperate associates, who would not hesitate even
to murder him at his bidding, and the former banker was fully capable of
compassing his assassination in the most horrible fashion as a crowning
stroke of diabolical revenge. There was a time when Monte-Cristo valued
life very little, when he would gladly have accepted death as a welcome
avenue to endless rest and peace, but that time had passed; since then
he had contracted ties that bound him to existence with insurmountable
strength; he had now a family, was surrounded by beings he tenderly
loved and cherished, beings for whom he must live and over whose
destinies he must closely watch. He was wedded to Mercedes, who lavished
upon him in her maturity all the wealth of overwhelming affection she
had showered upon him before the fateful conspiracy that had consigned
him as the sailor Dantes to the dark, noisome dungeon of the Chateau d'
If and given her to the arms of Fernand, the Catalan. Haydee had
fluttered over the page of his stormy, agitated history, leaving him
Esperance and Zuleika as reminders of a happy, but all too brief dream,
an elfin vision of enchantment that had vanished as swiftly as it had
come. But his son and daughter had twined themselves about the fibres of
his heart as the clinging ivy twines about the shattered fragments of
some grand and imposing ruin, and each day, each moment, as it sped by,
only served the more to reveal to him the longings and the devotion of a
father's soul. Besides, Albert de Morcerf and his young wife Eugenie
were now thoroughly endeared to him, and he felt that by doing
everything in his power to augment their happiness he was gradually
paying off the heavy debt he owed to Danglars' so long abandoned child.
Yes, the Count of Monte-Cristo wished to live, first for his family,
then for the great cause of human liberty with which he had become so
thoroughly identified. If Danglars came in his way he would endeavor to
reclaim and propitiate him, but he could not seek him out.
Mercedes at the period of the attempted robbery was absent on a visit to
some friends in Marseilles, and by common consent it was resolved not to
inform her of Danglars' reappearance, as the intelligence could not fail
to be a prostrating shock to her.
Ever since that memorable midnight scene in Monte-Cristo's study young
Madame de Morcerf had acted like one overwhelmed. She said nothing, even
to her husband or Louise d' Armilly, concerning her wretched father, but
it was plain that intense grief and shame were preying upon her. This
greatly distressed Albert and, seeing his beloved wife droop day by day,
he, without saying a word to any one, formed a startling and perilous
resolution. He determined to find Danglars' abode, to see his
father-in-law and endeavor to persuade him to relinquish his career of
crime. In this he was actuated by two powerful motives--the desire to
relieve Eugenie's distress and suspense and the wish to avoid the
scandal that would be sure to come should the former banker be caught
red-handed in the commission of some fearful crime and a legal
investigation reveal his identity.
Zuleika studiously avoided referring to the attempted robbery and the
recognition of Danglars by her father and Eugenie. She was aware of the