The man was somewhere between forty and forty-five, though he looked at least fifty. His black mustache and eyebrows contrasted starkly with his nearly white, military-cut hair. He wore civilian clothes with various ribbons pinned to his lapel. He entered with dignified but somewhat hurried steps.
Monte Cristo watched him approach without moving a single step himself. His feet seemed rooted to the floor, his eyes fixed on the Count of Morcerf.
"Father," the young man said, "I have the honor of presenting the Count of Monte Cristo, the generous friend I had the good fortune to meet during that critical situation I told you about."
"You are most welcome, sir," the Count of Morcerf said, greeting Monte Cristo with a smile. "You've rendered our house an invaluable service by preserving our only heir, which ensures our eternal gratitude." As he spoke, he gestured to a chair while seating himself in another opposite the window.
