Page:The Count of Monte-Cristo (1887 Volume 2).djvu/60

40 clutched at his heart-strings. He heard the door of the staircase creak on its hinges—the clock gave its warning to strike eleven—the door of his cabinet opened. Morrel did not turn round—he expected these words of Cocles, "The agent of Thomson and French."

He placed the muzzle of the pistol between his teeth. Suddenly he heard a cry—it was his daughter's voice. He turned and saw Julie. The pistol fell from his hands.

"My father!" cried the young girl, out of breath, and half dead with joy—"saved! you are saved!"

And she threw herself into his arms, holding in her extended hand a red netted silk purse.

"Saved! my child!" said Morrel; "what do you mean?"

Yes, saved—saved! See, see!" said the young girl.

Morrel took the purse, and started as he did so, for a vague remembrance reminded him that it once belonged to himself. At one end was the bill for the two hundred and eighty-seven thousand five hundred francs receipted, and at the other was a diamond as large as a hazel-nut, with these words on a small slip of parchment:

"Julie's Dowry."

Morrel passed his hand over his brow; it seemed to him a dream. At this moment the clock struck eleven. The sound vibrated as if each stroke of the hammer struck on Morrel's heart.

"Explain, my child," he said, "explain—where did you find this purse?"

"In a house in the Allées de Meilhan, No. 15, on the corner of a mantelpiece in a small room on the fifth floor."

"But," cried Morrel, "this purse is not yours!" Julie handed to her father the letter she had received in the morning.

"And did you go alone?" asked Morrel, after he had read it.

"Emmanuel accompanied me, father. He was to have waited for me at the corner of the Rue de Musée, but, strange to say, he was not there when I returned."

"Monsieur Morrel!" exclaimed a voice on the stairs; "Monsieur Morrel!"

"It is his voice!" said Julie. At this moment Emmanuel entered, his countenance full of animation and joy.

"The Pharaon!" he cried; "the Pharaon!"

"What!—what! the Pharaon! Are you mad, Emmanuel? You know the vessel is lost."

"The Pharaon, sir; they signal the Pharaon! The Pharaon is entering the harbor!"

Morrel fell back in his chair; his strength was failing him; his