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"Oh, to be sure!" responded Danglars, who had now approached the group, "nothing more than a mistake, I feel quite certain." Dantes descended the staircase, preceded by the magistrate, and followed by the soldiers. A carriage awaited him at the door; he got in, followed by two soldiers and the magistrate, and the vehicle drove off towards Marseilles. "Adieu, adieu, dearest Edmond!" cried Mercedes, stretching out her arms to him from the balcony. The prisoner heard the cry, which sounded like the sob of a broken heart, and leaning from the coach he called out, "Good-by, Mercedes -- we shall soon meet again!" Then the vehicle disappeared round one of the turnings of Fort Saint Nicholas. "Wait for me here, all of you!" cried M. Morrel; "I will take the first conveyance I find, and hurry to Marseilles, whence I will bring you word how all is going on." "That's right!" exclaimed a multitude of voices, "go, and return as quickly as you can!" This second departure was followed by a long and fearful state of terrified silence on the part of those who were left behind. The old father and Mercedes remained for some time apart, each absorbed in grief; but at length the two poor victims of the same blow raised their eyes, and with a simultaneous burst of feeling rushed into each other's arms. Meanwhile Fernand made his appearance, poured out for himself a glass of water with a trembling hand; then hastily swallowing it, went to sit down at the first vacant place, and this was, by mere chance, placed next to the seat on which poor Mercedes had fallen half fainting, when released from the warm and affectionate embrace of old Dantes. Instinctively Fernand drew back his chair. "He is the cause of all this misery -- I am quite sure of it," whispered Caderousse, who had never taken his eyes off Fernand, to Danglars. "I don't think so," answered the other; he's too stupid to imagine such a scheme. I only hope the mischief will fall upon the head of whoever wrought it." "You don't mention those who aided and abetted the deed," said Caderousse. "Surely," answered Danglars, "one cannot be held responsible for every chance arrow shot into the air." "You can, indeed, when the arrow lights point downward on somebody's head." Meantime the subject of the arrest was being canvassed in every different form. "What think you, Danglars," said one of the party, turning towards him, "of this event?" "Why," replied he, "I think it just possible Dantes may have been detected with some trifling article on board ship considered here as contraband." "But how could he have done so without your knowledge, Danglars, since you are the ship's supercargo?" "Why, as for that, I could only know what I was told respecting the merchandise with which the vessel was laden. I know she was loaded with cotton, and that she took in her freight at Alexandria from Pastret's warehouse, and at Smyrna from Pascal's; that is all I was obliged to know, and I beg I may not be asked for any further particulars." "Now I recollect," said the afflicted old father; "my poor boy told me yesterday he had got a small case of coffee, and another of tobacco for me!" "There, you see," exclaimed Danglars. "Now the mischief is out; depend upon it the custom-house people went rummaging about the ship in our absence, and discovered poor Dantes' hidden treasures." Mercedes, however, paid no heed to this explanation of her lover's arrest. Her grief, which she had hitherto tried to restrain, now burst out in a violent fit of hysterical sobbing.

"Come, come," said the old man, "be comforted, my poor child; there is still hope!" "Hope!" repeated Danglars. "Hope!" faintly murmured Fernand, but the word seemed to die away on his pale agitated lips, and a convulsive spasm passed over his countenance. "Good news! good news!" shouted forth one of the party stationed in the balcony on the lookout. "Here comes M. Morrel back. No doubt, now, we shall hear that our friend is released!" Mercedes and the old man rushed to meet the shipowner and greeted him at the door. He was very pale. "What news?" exclaimed a general burst of voices. "Alas, my friends," replied M. Morrel, with a mournful shake of his head, "the thing has assumed a more serious aspect than I expected." "Oh, indeed -- indeed, sir, he is innocent!" sobbed forth Mercedes. "That I believe!" answered M. Morrel; "but still he is charged" -- "With what?" inquired the elder Dantes.