As Morrel and his son embraced on the pier-head… a man, with his face half-covered by a black beard… uttered these words in a low tone: “Be happy, noble heart… and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like your good deeds.”
The Count’s anonymous kindness restores Morrel’s world in public while keeping his own heart private. The dramatic irony—everyone sees the ship, no one sees the savior—fits his rule: do good without applause. It’s one of the novel’s most luminous homecomings. Emotionally, readers get uncomplicated relief after so much scheming. The aside, whispered behind a sentry-box, shows he still prefers shadow. Vengeance may be theatrical; mercy is modest. That balance is the book’s moral center of gravity.