This room was occupied by Dantes' 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!"

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."