Page:The Count of Monte-Cristo (1887 Volume 1).djvu/67

Rh and then a nervous, involuntary trembling made him quiver. Fernand seemed to expect, or at least anticipate, some great event.

Dantès himself was simply, though becomingly, clad in the dress peculiar to the merchant service—a costume somewhat between a uniform and a civil garb; and his fine countenance, radiant with joy and happiness, was in keeping with this garb.

Lovely as the Greeks of Cyprus or Ceos, Mercédès boasted the same eyes of jet and coral lips, while she walked with that free, frank step that distinguishes the women of Arles and Andalusia. One more practiced in the arts of great cities would have hid her joy beneath a veil, or, at least, beneath her thickly-fringed lashes; but Mercédès, on the contrary, smiled and looked at those around her. Her look and her smile said, as plainly as words could have done, "If you are my friends, rejoice with me, for, in truth, I am very happy."

As soon as the bridal cortége came in sight of La Réserve, M. Morrel came forth to meet it, followed by the soldiers and sailors there assembled, to whom he had repeated the promise already given, that Dantès should be the successor to the late Captain Leclere. Edmond, at the approach of his patron, respectfully placed the arm of his affianced bride within that of M. Morrel, who, forthwith conducting her up the flight of wooden steps leading to the chamber in which the feast was prepared, was gayly followed by the guests, beneath whose thronging numbers the slight structure creaked and groaned as though alarmed at the unusual pressure.

"Father," said Mercédès, stopping when she had reached the center of the table, "sit, I pray you, on my right hand; on my left I will place him who has ever been as a brother to me," pointing with a sweetness that struck Fernand to his inmost heart like the blow of a dagger. His lips became ghastly pale, and even beneath the dark hue of his complexion the blood might be seen retreating as though driven back to the heart.

During this time, Dantès, at the opposite side of the table, had been occupied in similarly placing his most honored guests. M. Morrel was seated at his right hand, Danglars at his left; while, at a sign from Edmond, the rest of the company ranged themselves as they found it most agreeable.

Already there passed round the table sausages of Arles, with their brown meat and piquant flavor; lobsters in their dazzling red cuirasses; prawns of brilliant color, the sea-urchins looking like chestnut-burrs, with their prickly outside; the clams, esteemed by the epicures of the south as more than rivaling the exquisite flavor of the oyster, north. All these, in conjunction with the numerous delicacies cast up by the wash