The Count of Monte Cristo

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"Mercedes is dead, madame," said Monte Cristo; "I know no one now of
that name."

"Mercedes lives, sir, and she remembers, for she alone recognized
you when she saw you, and even before she saw you, by your voice,
Edmond,--by the simple sound of your voice; and from that moment she
has followed your steps, watched you, feared you, and she needs not to
inquire what hand has dealt the blow which now strikes M. de Morcerf."

"Fernand, do you mean?" replied Monte Cristo, with bitter irony; "since
we are recalling names, let us remember them all." Monte Cristo had
pronounced the name of Fernand with such an expression of hatred that
Mercedes felt a thrill of horror run through every vein. "You see,
Edmond, I am not mistaken, and have cause to say, 'Spare my son!'"

"And who told you, madame, that I have any hostile intentions against
your son?"