The old man nodded.

"So that you have lived for three months on sixty francs,"
muttered Edmond.

"You know how little I require," said the old man.

"Heaven pardon me," cried Edmond, falling on his knees
before his father.

"What are you doing?"

"You have wounded me to the heart."

"Never mind it, for I see you once more," said the old man;
"and now it's all over -- everything is all right again."

"Yes, here I am," said the young man, "with a promising
future and a little money. Here, father, here!" he said,
"take this -- take it, and send for something immediately."
And he emptied his pockets on the table, the contents
consisting of a dozen gold pieces, five or six five-franc
pieces, and some smaller coin. The countenance of old Dantes
brightened.

"Whom does this belong to?" he inquired.

"To me, to you, to us! Take it; buy some provisions; be
happy, and to-morrow we shall have more."