they will tell you that they love and respect me, not as a father, for I am too young, but as an elder brother."
"But, instead of enemies, you may have excited jealousy. You are about to become captain at nineteen — an elevated post in your profession; you are about to marry a pretty girl, who loves you, a happiness rare in any position; and these two pieces of good fortune may have excited the envy of some one."
"You are right; you know men better than I do, and what you say may possibly be the case, I confess; but if they are among my friends I prefer not knowing them, because then I should be forced to hate them."
"You are wrong; you should always strive to see clearly around you. You seem a worthy young man; I will depart from the strict line of my duty to aid you in throwing light on the matter, by communicating to you the information which has brought you here. Here is the paper; do you know the writing?"
As he spoke, Villefort drew the letter from his pocket, and presented it to Dantès. Dantès read it. A cloud passed over his brow as he said:
"No, monsieur, I do not know the writing. It is disguised, and yet it is tolerably plain. Whoever did it writes well. I am very fortunate," added he, looking gratefully at Villefort, "to be examined by such a man as you; for this envious person is a real enemy."
And by the rapid glance that the young man's eyes shot forth, Villefort saw how much energy lay hid beneath this mildness.
"Now," said the deputy, "answer me frankly, not as a prisoner to a judge, but as one man in a false position to another who takes an interest in him, what truth is there in the accusation contained in this anonymous letter?"
And Villefort threw disdainfully on his bureau the letter Dantès had just given back to him.
"None at all. I will tell you the real facts. I swear by my honor as a sailor, by my love for Mercedes, by the life of my father———"
"Speak, monsieur," said Villefort. Then, internally, "If Renée could see me, I hope she would be satisfied, and would no longer call me a decapitator."
"Well, when we quitted Naples, Captain Leclere was attacked with a brain-fever. As we had no doctor on board, and he was so anxious to arrive at Elba that he would not touch at any other port, his disorder rose to such a height that at the end of the third day, feeling he was dying, he called me to him. 'My dear Dantès,' said he, 'swear to perform what I am going to tell you, for it is a matter of the deepest importance.'
"'I swear, captain,' replied I.
