12 Duel in the park

Chapter 12 Duel in the park BOOM! The blast from the Count's pistol echoed around the park, scattering pigeons from the trees. The shot hit the trunk dead in the middle. The Count's aim was perfect. The Count rubbed his tired eyes. He hadn't slept at all last night. He had come here to punish Fernand by killing his son. But he felt a sadness... Was he doing the right thing?

A carriage approached, and Albert stepped out with Beauchamp. His eyes were red and puffy and his pistol trembled in his hand. He had clearly not slept either. "Count," he said, "tell me what cause you have to hate my father." "I cannot." "Then we must fight." Beauchamp stood between the two men. "Gentlemen," he instructed, "you must each take ten paces and then turn and fire."

The duel began. The Count raised his pistol and began pacing. One... two... He thought about his life before Chateau D'If, and the man he once was. Happy Edmond Dantes... Four... five... He thought of Fernand, and how he had stolen that happiness. Seven... eight... The Count's finger curled around the trigger. Nine... ten! The Count turned.

"EDMOND!" The Count froze. Mercedes raced across the park. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Edmond!" she gasped. "Please spare my son!" But the Count's pistol remained fixed on Albert. "Edmond is dead," he said coldly. "I am simply an angel of vengeance." "But why Edmond? Why do you seek revenge? Fernand has done nothing to you." The Count's whole body trembled with rage. "Nothing?" he cried. "Because of him, I rotted in jail for twenty years." "No," Mercedes said, "not Fernand..." "You do not believe me? Here is the proof!" The Count pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket and threw it to Mercedes. It was the same letter that, twenty years ago, accused him of treason. Only then, the soldiers had hidden the signatures at the bottom. One of them said Danglars. The other belonged to... "Fernand Mondego," Mercedes whispered. Her legs buckled and she fell weeping to the long grass.

Albert read the letter too. His pistol slipped from his hand. But still the Count kept his weapon aimed at Albert's head. His hand shook. He gazed at Mercedes, crying at his feet. Slowly, he lowered the pistol. "Edmond," Mercedes sobbed. "No," the Count said softly. "I do not know who I am anymore...