This room was occupied by Dantès’ father. The news of the arrival of the _Pharaon_ had not yet reached the old man, who, mounted on a chair, was amusing himself by training with trembling hand the nasturtiums and sprays of clematis that clambered over the trellis at his window. Suddenly, he felt an arm thrown around his body, and a well-known voice behind him exclaimed, “Father—dear father!”

Question

The old man uttered a cry, and turned round; then, seeing his son, he fell into his arms, pale and trembling.

“What ails you, my dearest father? Are you ill?” inquired the young man, much alarmed.

“No, no, my dear Edmond—my boy—my son!—no; but I did not expect you; and joy, the surprise of seeing you so suddenly—Ah, I feel as if I were going to die.”

“Come, come, cheer up, my dear father! ’Tis I—really I! They say joy never hurts, and so I came to you without any warning. Come now, do smile, instead of looking at me so solemnly. Here I am back again, and we are going to be happy.”

“Yes, yes, my boy, so we will—so we will,” replied the old man; “but how shall we be happy? Shall you never leave me again? Come, tell me all the good fortune that has befallen you.”

“God forgive me,” said the young man, “for rejoicing at happiness derived from the misery of others, but, Heaven knows, I did not seek this good fortune; it has happened, and I really cannot pretend to lament it. The good Captain Leclere is dead, father, and it is probable that, with the aid of M. Morrel, I shall have his place. Do you understand, father? Only imagine me a captain at twenty, with a hundred louis pay, and a share in the profits! Is this not more than a poor sailor like me could have hoped for?”

“Yes, my dear boy,” replied the old man, “it is very fortunate.”

“Well, then, with the first money I touch, I mean you to have a small house, with a garden in which to plant clematis, nasturtiums, and honeysuckle. But what ails you, father? Are you not well?”

“’Tis nothing, nothing; it will soon pass away”—and as he said so the old man’s strength failed him, and he fell backwards.

“Come, come,” said the young man, “a glass of wine, father, will revive you. Where do you keep your wine?”

“No, no; thanks. You need not look for it; I do not want it,” said the old man.

“Yes, yes, father, tell me where it is,” and he opened two or three cupboards.

“It is no use,” said the old man, “there is no wine.”

“What, no wine?” said Dantès, turning pale, and looking alternately at the hollow cheeks of the old man and the empty cupboards. “What, no wine? Have you wanted money, father?”

“I want nothing now that I have you,” said the old man.

“Yet,” stammered Dantès, wiping the perspiration from his brow,—“yet I gave you two hundred francs when I left, three months ago.”

“Yes, yes, Edmond, that is true, but you forgot at that time a little debt to our neighbor, Caderousse. He reminded me of it, telling me if I did not pay for you, he would be paid by M. Morrel; and so, you see, lest he might do you an injury——”

“Well?”

“Why, I paid him.”

“But,” cried Dantès, “it was a hundred and forty francs I owed Caderousse.”

“Yes,” stammered the old man.

“And you paid him out of the two hundred francs I left you?”

The old man nodded.

“So that you have lived for three months on sixty francs,” muttered Edmond.

“You know how little I require,” said the old man.

“Heaven pardon me,” cried Edmond, falling on his knees before his father.

Answer 1

“Forgive me, dear father, for not realizing sooner how dire our situation has become! I was so caught up in my own dreams and ambitions that I neglected to consider your well-being. What sort of son am I?”

The old man placed a trembling hand on Edmond’s shoulder, urging him to rise. “You are a good son, my boy. Do not blame yourself for misfortunes that are beyond your control. I am proud of you for the man you have become, and I am grateful for your return.”

Edmond shook his head, frustration mingling with his sorrow. “Proud? How can you be proud when I have allowed you to suffer in my absence? I should have foreseen this, should have planned better to ensure your comfort while I was away.”

“It is the way of the world, my son,” the old man sighed. “One must endure hardships to appreciate happiness when it comes. But now that you are here, we can overcome anything together.”

“Yes, together,” Edmond echoed, a new determination igniting within him. “I will not allow you to want for anything again. Tomorrow, I shall visit M. Morrel and discuss my future with him. With my new position, I will make certain you have all you need—and more!”

His father’s weary smile returned, though the lines of worry remained etched on his face. “And what of your dreams, Edmond? You speak of concern for me, but I want you to fulfill your ambitions too.”

“That is exactly why I must act quickly. I will ensure that your struggles are over. No more empty cupboards, no more worries about Caderousse or debts. We deserve a peaceful life, Father. You have cared for me all your life, now it is my turn to care for you.”

Dantès stood with newfound resolve, determination coursing through him. He stepped toward the door, pausing as he turned back to his father, feeling the weight of the past three months press against his heart. “Rest now, Father. I will not be gone long. I promise to return with a plan.”

His father nodded, a look of trust in his eyes. As Edmond left the room, he felt the burdens of both their lives begin to lift, envisioning a future filled with brighter days and the cherished laughter of someone he had ever so longed to protect. The bonds of love and duty wrapped tightly around his heart, he stepped out into the world once more—a young man welcomed back by the ashes of despair but ready to rise like a phoenix from the flames, determined to forge a brighter path not only for himself but especially for his beloved father.