Chapter 7: Burning Love: III
"When’s the wedding?" Caderousse asked.
"Oh, it’s not set yet!" murmured Fernand.
"No, but it will be," said Caderousse, "as surely as Dantès will be captain of the Pharaon, right, Danglars?"
Danglars flinched at this unexpected attack and turned to Caderousse, studying his face to see if the blow was intentional. But he saw nothing but envy in a face already made brutal and stupid by drunkenness.
"Well," he said, filling the glasses, "let’s drink to Captain Edmond Dantès, husband of the beautiful Catalan girl!"
Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with an unsteady hand and downed it in one gulp. Fernand smashed his glass on the ground.
"Eh, eh, eh!" stammered Caderousse. "What do I see down there by the wall, toward the Catalans? Look, Fernand, your eyes are better than mine. I think I’m seeing double. Wine’s a deceiver, you know, but I’d swear those are two lovers walking side by side, hand in hand. God forgive me, they don’t know we can see them, and they’re actually embracing!"
Danglars didn’t miss a single pang that Fernand suffered.
"Do you know them, Fernand?" he asked.
"Yes," came the low reply. "It’s Edmond and Mercédès!"
"Ah, look at that!" said Caderousse. "And I didn’t recognize them! Hey, Dantès! Hello, beautiful lady! Come this way and tell us when the wedding will be, because Fernand here is so stubborn he won’t tell us."
"Shut up, will you?" said Danglars, pretending to restrain Caderousse, who with typical drunk persistence leaned out of the arbor. "Try to stand up straight and let the lovers love without interruption. Look at Fernand and follow his example, he’s being well-behaved!"
Fernand, probably pushed beyond endurance and goaded by Danglars like a bull by the banderilleros, was about to rush out. He had risen from his seat and seemed to be gathering himself to charge headlong at his rival when Mercédès, smiling and graceful, lifted her lovely head and looked at them with her clear, bright eyes. At this, Fernand remembered her threat to die if Edmond died, and dropped heavily back into his seat.
Danglars looked at the two men, one brutalized by alcohol, the other overwhelmed by love.
"I’ll get nothing from these fools," he muttered. "I’m afraid I’m stuck here between a drunk and a coward. Here’s this envious bastard getting wasted on wine when he should be nursing his anger, and here’s this fool who watches the woman he loves get stolen from under his nose and acts like a big baby.
Yet this Catalan has eyes that gleam like those vengeful Spaniards, Sicilians, and Calabrians, and the other has fists big enough to crush an ox. No doubt about it, Edmond’s star is rising, and he’ll marry that gorgeous girl, he’ll be captain too and laugh at all of us, unless..." A sinister smile crossed Danglars’ lips. "Unless I get involved in this affair."
"Hey!" continued Caderousse, half-rising with his fist on the table. "Hey, Edmond! Don’t you see your friends, or are you too proud to speak to them?"
"No, my friend!" replied Dantès. "I’m not proud, but I’m happy, and happiness blinds more than pride, I think."
"Ah, well, that’s an explanation!" said Caderousse. "How are you, Mrs. Dantès?"
Mercédès curtsied gracefully and said, "That’s not my name, and in my country they say it brings bad luck to call a young girl by her fiancé’s name before he becomes her husband. So call me Mercédès, please."
"We must excuse our worthy neighbor, Caderousse," said Dantès. "He makes mistakes easily."
"So the wedding’s happening immediately, Mr. Dantès?" said Danglars, bowing to the young couple.
"As soon as possible, Mr. Danglars. Today we’ll arrange all the preliminaries at my father’s house, and tomorrow, or the day after at the latest, we’ll have the wedding celebration here at La Réserve. My friends will be there, I hope, that is, you’re invited, Mr. Danglars, and you too, Caderousse."
"And Fernand," said Caderousse with a chuckle. "Fernand’s invited too!"
"My wife’s brother is my brother," said Edmond. "Mercédès and I would be very sorry if he were absent at such a time."
Fernand opened his mouth to reply, but his voice died on his lips, and he couldn’t utter a word.
"Today the preliminaries, tomorrow or the next day the ceremony! You’re in a hurry, captain!"
"Danglars," said Edmond, smiling, "I’ll tell you what Mercédès just told Caderousse, ’Don’t give me a title that doesn’t belong to me’, that might bring me bad luck."
"Sorry," replied Danglars. "I just said you seemed in a hurry, and we have plenty of time. The Pharaon can’t set sail again for at least three months."
"We’re always in a hurry to be happy, Mr. Danglars. When we’ve suffered for a long time, we have trouble believing in good fortune. But it’s not just selfishness making me rush, I have to go to Paris."
"Really? To Paris! Will this be your first time there, Dantès?"
"Yes."
"Business?"
"Not mine, poor Captain Leclere’s last commission. You know what I’m talking about, Danglars, it’s sacred. Besides, I’ll only take the time to go and return."
"Yes, yes, I understand," said Danglars, then added in a low tone, "To Paris, no doubt to deliver the letter the grand marshal gave him. Ah, this letter gives me an idea, a brilliant idea! Ah, Dantès, my friend, you’re not yet registered as number one on the good ship Pharaon."
Turning toward Edmond, who was walking away, he called out, "Have a pleasant journey!"
"Thank you," said Edmond with a friendly nod, and the two lovers continued on their way, as calm and joyous as if they were heaven’s chosen ones.