"How terrible!" Maximilian exclaimed.
"Not for the countess or Albert," Monte Cristo said. "A dead father or husband is better than a disgraced one. Blood washes away shame."
"Poor countess," Maximilian murmured. "I feel terrible for her. She's such a noble woman."
"Pity Albert too, Maximilian. Believe me, he's worthy of his mother. But let's talk about you. You rushed here, can I help you with something?"
"Yes, I need your help. Or rather, I thought like a madman that you might help me in a situation where only God can intervene."
"Tell me what it is," Monte Cristo replied.
"Oh," Morrel said, "I don't even know if I should reveal this secret to another living soul. But fate drives me, necessity compels me, Count-"
Morrel hesitated.
"Do you think I care about you?" Monte Cristo asked, taking the young man's hand affectionately.
"You give me courage. Something here," he placed his hand over his heart, "tells me I should have no secrets from you."
