Sorysorysory!!! I have gotten names confused. I am re-posting this chapter because it was not about Andre, it was about Albert. Sory!!!!

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I sit on the small chair in my room at the inn, sip my tea and sigh. The count and I agreed that I should make something of my life. I've been traveling around for some time now, trying to figure things out for myself. Who am I? What am I going to become? I began my travels in the hopes of gaining experience and wisdom. Someday I hope to be as wise and powerful as Le Count de Monte Cristo.

Maybe I should hate him. I do not know whether to praise or curse this man. I owe him my life, and yet he is responsible for my father's death. And even yet, I saw the darkness go from my mother's eyes. The Count is the man that should have been my father. He and my mother were once very much in love. But the man who was to become my father played a nasty trick, and now…

I don't know what to believe. I don't know what to think. All I have is my past, an extra set of clothes, and a cup of tea. I am in North Africa, near the coast. I feel as if all my time has gone to waste.
I finish my cup of tea, and decide to leave here. There is nothing further I can gain. I ring for the bell boy. He is here in a moment.

"Garcon! Je voudrais quitter! Maitenant! L'addition s'il vous plait."

"Oui Mesiur." He leaves the room. In short order, my belongings are together, my bill is payed, and I am off. Where I will go I know not.

The crowded street is so full of color. Dark skinned Africans in their colorful clothing mixed with Frenchmen like me, and so many others of different nationalities that I cannot name. This is a trade city, grown rich on the merchant ships that come into port. I turn to the harbor mouth, trying not to get run over by the traffic. The noise that fills the air further confuse my already befuddled thoughts.

I finally reach an open spot, and here I take a deep breath.

"What are you doing here?" A voice comes from my left.

"It is not wise for ones such as you to be roaming our streets." Another voice, African I can tell by his thickly accented French.

"I was just going," I say, "I have no wish to quarrel."

"Ahhh. But we do." It is the first man again. I cannot tell where he is from. I hear the familiar shing of a sword being drawn, and I reach for my own.

"Zotho! Jardinaux! Enough!" A musical, female voice comes from behind me. I recognize her, but where-

"So this is where Mesiur Albert has gotten himself to, non?" She says.

"Pardon me Madam." I turn around but she already stepped to where I was facing before I turned.

"You are toying with me. Who are you?" I inquire.

"Vous ne me connais pas? I would think that you would remember me…" she says, and I turn again so that I can see her. And I remember her. Of course!

"Non! Je vous connais! The last time I saw you, you could not speak French. I had not heard your voice in my language before." When I last saw her, Monte Cristo interpreted everything for me. Also, I was quite taken with her….

"Oui. C'est vrai." She looks at me with her deep penetrating eyes, and I cannot help but cast my gaze down.

"Why have you come to me here Haydee?" I inquire.

"Parce que you are a man without a cause. I am here to give you one."