The Count The Count of of Monte Cristo Monte Cristo

by Alexandre Dumas (Père)

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Chapter 1: Marseilles – The Arrival.
On the 24th of February, 1810, the look-out at Notre-Dame de la Garde signalled the three-master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples. As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Chateau d’If, got on board the vessel between Cape Morgion and Rion island. Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean were covered with spectators; it is always an event at Marseilles for a ship to come into port, especially when this ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs to an owner of the city. The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which some volcanic shock has made between the Calasareigne and Jaros islands; had doubled Pomegue, and approached the harbor under topsails, jib, and spanker, but so slowly and sedately that the idlers, with that instinct which is the forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could have happened on board. However, those experienced in navigation saw plainly that if any accident had occurred, it was not to the vessel herself, for she bore down with all the evidence of being skilfully handled, the anchor acockbill, the jib-boom guys already eased off, and standing by the side of the pilot, who was steering the Pharaon towards the narrow entrance of the inner port, was a young man, who, with activity and vigilant eye, watched every motion of the ship, and repeated each direction of the pilot. The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much affected one of the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff, desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Reserve basin.

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When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship’s bulwarks. He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven’s wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger. “Ah, is it you, Dantes?” cried the man in the skiff. “What’s the matter? and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?” “A great misfortune, M. Morrel,” replied the young man, – “a great misfortune, for me especially! Off Civita Vecchia we lost our brave Captain Leclere.” “And the cargo?” inquired the owner, eagerly. “Is all safe, M. Morrel; and I think you will be satisfied on that head. But poor Captain Leclere – ” “What happened to him?” asked the owner, with an air of considerable resignation. “What happened to the worthy captain?” “He died.” “Fell into the sea?” “No, sir, he died of brain-fever in dreadful agony.” Then turning to the crew, he said, “Bear a hand there, to take in sail!” All hands obeyed, and at once the eight or ten seamen who composed the crew, sprang to their respective stations at the spanker brails and outhaul, topsail sheets and halyards, the jib downhaul, and the topsail clewlines and buntlines. The young sailor gave a look to see that his orders were promptly and accurately obeyed, and then turned again to the owner. 2

“And how did this misfortune occur?” inquired the latter, resuming the interrupted conversation. “Alas, sir, in the most unexpected manner. After a long talk with the harbor-master, Captain Leclere left Naples greatly disturbed in mind. In twenty-four hours he was attacked by a fever, and died three days afterwards. We performed the usual burial service, and he is at his rest, sewn up in his hammock with a thirty-six pound shot at his head and his heels, off El Giglio island. We bring to his widow his sword and cross of honor. It was worth while, truly,” added the young man with a melancholy smile, “to make war against the English for ten years, and to die in his bed at last, like everybody else.” “Why, you see, Edmond,” replied the owner, who appeared more comforted at every moment, “we are all mortal, and the old must make way for the young. If not, why, there would be no promotion; and since you assure me that the cargo – ” “Is all safe and sound, M. Morrel, take my word for it; and I advise you not to take 25,000 francs for the profits of the voyage.” Then, as they were just passing the Round Tower, the young man shouted: “Stand by there to lower the topsails and jib; brail up the spanker!” The order was executed as promptly as it would have been on board a man-of-war. “Let go – and clue up!” At this last command all the sails were lowered, and the vessel moved almost imperceptibly onwards. “Now, if you will come on board, M. Morrel,” said Dantes, observing the owner’s impatience, “here is your supercargo, M. Danglars, coming out of his cabin, who will furnish you with every particular. As for me, I must look after the anchoring, and dress the ship in mourning.”

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The owner did not wait for a second invitation. He seized a rope which Dantes flung to him, and with an activity that would have done credit to a sailor, climbed up the side of the ship, while the young man, going to his task, left the conversation to Danglars, who now came towards the owner. He was a man of twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, of unprepossessing countenance, obsequious to his superiors, insolent to his subordinates; and this, in addition to his position as responsible agent on board, which is always obnoxious to the sailors, made him as much disliked by the crew as Edmond Dantes was beloved by them. “Well, M. Morrel,” said Danglars, “you have heard of the misfortune that has befallen us?” “Yes – yes: poor Captain Leclere! He was a brave and an honest man.” “And a first-rate seaman, one who had seen long and honorable service, as became a man charged with the interests of a house so important as that of Morrel & Son,” replied Danglars. “But,” replied the owner, glancing after Dantes, who was watching the anchoring of his vessel, “it seems to me that a sailor needs not be so old as you say, Danglars, to understand his business, for our friend Edmond seems to understand it thoroughly, and not to require instruction from any one.” “Yes,” said Danglars, darting at Edmond a look gleaming with hate. “Yes, he is young, and youth is invariably self-confident. Scarcely was the captain’s breath out of his body when he assumed the command without consulting any one, and he caused us to lose a day and a half at the Island of Elba, instead of making for Marseilles direct.” “As to taking command of the vessel,” replied Morrel, “that was his duty as captain’s mate; as to losing a day and a half off the Island of Elba, he was wrong, unless the vessel needed repairs.”

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“The vessel was in as good condition as I am, and as, I hope you are, M. Morrel, and this day and a half was lost from pure whim, for the pleasure of going ashore, and nothing else.” “Dantes,” said the shipowner, turning towards the young man, “come this way!” “In a moment, sir,” answered Dantes, “and I’m with you.” Then calling to the crew, he said – “Let go!” The anchor was instantly dropped, and the chain ran rattling through the port-hole. Dantes continued at his post in spite of the presence of the pilot, until this manoeuvre was completed, and then he added, “Half-mast the colors, and square the yards!” “You see,” said Danglars, “he fancies himself captain already, upon my word.” “And so, in fact, he is,” said the owner. “Except your signature and your partner’s, M. Morrel.” “And why should he not have this?” asked the owner; “he is young, it is true, but he seems to me a thorough seaman, and of full experience.” A cloud passed over Danglars’ brow. “Your pardon, M. Morrel,” said Dantes, approaching, “the vessel now rides at anchor, and I am at your service. You hailed me, I think?” Danglars retreated a step or two. “I wished to inquire why you stopped at the Island of Elba?” “I do not know, sir; it was to fulfil the last instructions of Captain Leclere, who, when dying, gave me a packet for Marshal Bertrand.” “Then did you see him, Edmond?” 5

“Who?” “The marshal.” “Yes.” Morrel looked around him, and then, drawing Dantes on one side, he said suddenly – “And how is the emperor?” “Very well, as far as I could judge from the sight of him.” “You saw the emperor, then?” “He entered the marshal’s apartment while I was there.” “And you spoke to him?” “Why, it was he who spoke to me, sir,” said Dantes, with a smile. “And what did he say to you?” “Asked me questions about the vessel, the time she left Marseilles, the course she had taken, and what was her cargo. I believe, if she had not been laden, and I had been her master, he would have bought her. But I told him I was only mate, and that she belonged to the firm of Morrel & Son. ‘Ah, yes,’ he said, ‘I know them. The Morrels have been shipowners from father to son; and there was a Morrel who served in the same regiment with me when I was in garrison at Valence.’“ “Pardieu, and that is true!” cried the owner, greatly delighted. “And that was Policar Morrel, my uncle, who was afterwards a captain. Dantes, you must tell my uncle that the emperor remembered him, and you will see it will bring tears into the old soldier’s eyes. Come, come,” continued he, patting Edmond’s shoulder kindly, “you did very right, Dantes, to follow Captain Leclere’s instructions, and touch at Elba, although if it were 6

known that you had conveyed a packet to the marshal, and had conversed with the emperor, it might bring you into trouble.” “How could that bring me into trouble, sir?” asked Dantes; “for I did not even know of what I was the bearer; and the emperor merely made such inquiries as he would of the first comer. But, pardon me, here are the health officers and the customs inspectors coming alongside.” And the young man went to the gangway. As he departed, Danglars approached, and said, – “Well, it appears that he has given you satisfactory reasons for his landing at Porto-Ferrajo?” “Yes, most satisfactory, my dear Danglars.” “Well, so much the better,” said the supercargo; “for it is not pleasant to think that a comrade has not done his duty.” “Dantes has done his,” replied the owner, “and that is not saying much. It was Captain Leclere who gave orders for this delay.” “Talking of Captain Leclere, has not Dantes given you a letter from him?” “To me? – no – was there one?” “I believe that, besides the packet, Captain Leclere confided a letter to his care.” “Of what packet are you speaking, Danglars?” “Why, that which Dantes left at Porto-Ferrajo.” “How do you know he had a packet to leave at Porto-Ferrajo?” Danglars turned very red. 7

“I was passing close to the door of the captain’s cabin, which was half open, and I saw him give the packet and letter to Dantes.” “He did not speak to me of it,” replied the shipowner; “but if there be any letter he will give it to me.” Danglars reflected for a moment. “Then, M. Morrel, I beg of you,” said he, “not to say a word to Dantes on the subject. I may have been mistaken.” At this moment the young man returned; Danglars withdrew. “Well, my dear Dantes, are you now free?” inquired the owner. “Yes, sir.” “You have not been long detained.” “No. I gave the custom-house officers a copy of our bill of lading; and as to the other papers, they sent a man off with the pilot, to whom I gave them.” “Then you have nothing more to do here?” “No – everything is all right now.” “Then you can come and dine with me?” “I really must ask you to excuse me, M. Morrel. My first visit is due to my father, though I am not the less grateful for the honor you have done me.” “Right, Dantes, quite right. I always knew you were a good son.” “And,” inquired Dantes, with some hesitation, “do you know how my father is?” “Well, I believe, my dear Edmond, though I have not seen him lately.” 8

“Yes, he likes to keep himself shut up in his little room.” “That proves, at least, that he has wanted for nothing during your absence.” Dantes smiled. “My father is proud, sir, and if he had not a meal left, I doubt if he would have asked anything from anyone, except from Heaven.” “Well, then, after this first visit has been made we shall count on you.” “I must again excuse myself, M. Morrel, for after this first visit has been paid I have another which I am most anxious to pay.” “True, Dantes, I forgot that there was at the Catalans some one who expects you no less impatiently than your father – the lovely Mercedes.” Dantes blushed. “Ah, ha,” said the shipowner, “I am not in the least surprised, for she has been to me three times, inquiring if there were any news of the Pharaon. Peste, Edmond, you have a very handsome mistress!” “She is not my mistress,” replied the young sailor, gravely; “she is my betrothed.” “Sometimes one and the same thing,” said Morrel, with a smile. “Not with us, sir,” replied Dantes. “Well, well, my dear Edmond,” continued the owner, “don’t let me detain you. You have managed my affairs so well that I ought to allow you all the time you require for your own. Do you want any money?” “No, sir; I have all my pay to take – nearly three months’ wages.” “You are a careful fellow, Edmond.” 9

“Say I have a poor father, sir.” “Yes, yes, I know how good a son you are, so now hasten away to see your father. I have a son too, and I should be very wroth with those who detained him from me after a three months’ voyage.” “Then I have your leave, sir?” “Yes, if you have nothing more to say to me.” “Nothing.” “Captain Leclere did not, before he died, give you a letter for me?” “He was unable to write, sir. But that reminds me that I must ask your leave of absence for some days.” “To get married?” “Yes, first, and then to go to Paris.” “Very good; have what time you require, Dantes. It will take quite six weeks to unload the cargo, and we cannot get you ready for sea until three months after that; only be back again in three months, for the Pharaon,” added the owner, patting the young sailor on the back, “cannot sail without her captain.” “Without her captain!” cried Dantes, his eyes sparkling with animation; “pray mind what you say, for you are touching on the most secret wishes of my heart. Is it really your intention to make me captain of the Pharaon?” “If I were sole owner we’d shake hands on it now, my dear Dantes, and call it settled; but I have a partner, and you know the Italian proverb – Chi ha compagno ha padrone – ‘He who has a partner has a master.’ But the 10

thing is at least half done, as you have one out of two votes. Rely on me to procure you the other; I will do my best.” “Ah, M. Morrel,” exclaimed the young seaman, with tears in his eyes, and grasping the owner’s hand, “M. Morrel, I thank you in the name of my father and of Mercedes.” “That’s all right, Edmond. There’s a providence that watches over the deserving. Go to your father: go and see Mercedes, and afterwards come to me.” “Shall I row you ashore?” “No, thank you; I shall remain and look over the accounts with Danglars. Have you been satisfied with him this voyage?” “That is according to the sense you attach to the question, sir. Do you mean is he a good comrade? No, for I think he never liked me since the day when I was silly enough, after a little quarrel we had, to propose to him to stop for ten minutes at the island of Monte Cristo to settle the dispute – a proposition which I was wrong to suggest, and he quite right to refuse. If you mean as responsible agent when you ask me the question, I believe there is nothing to say against him, and that you will be content with the way in which he has performed his duty.” “But tell me, Dantes, if you had command of the Pharaon should you be glad to see Danglars remain?” “Captain or mate, M. Morrel, I shall always have the greatest respect for those who possess the owners’ confidence.” “That’s right, that’s right, Dantes! I see you are a thoroughly good fellow, and will detain you no longer. Go, for I see how impatient you are.” “Then I have leave?” 11

“Go, I tell you.” “May I have the use of your skiff?” “Certainly.” “Then, for the present, M. Morrel, farewell, and a thousand thanks!” “I hope soon to see you again, my dear Edmond. Good luck to you.” The young sailor jumped into the skiff, and sat down in the stern sheets, with the order that he be put ashore at La Canebiere. The two oarsmen bent to their work, and the little boat glided away as rapidly as possible in the midst of the thousand vessels which choke up the narrow way which leads between the two rows of ships from the mouth of the harbor to the Quai d’Orleans. The shipowner, smiling, followed him with his eyes until he saw him spring out on the quay and disappear in the midst of the throng, which from five o’clock in the morning until nine o’clock at night, swarms in the famous street of La Canebiere, – a street of which the modern Phocaeans are so proud that they say with all the gravity in the world, and with that accent which gives so much character to what is said, “If Paris had La Canebiere, Paris would be a second Marseilles.” On turning round the owner saw Danglars behind him, apparently awaiting orders, but in reality also watching the young sailor, – but there was a great difference in the expression of the two men who thus followed the movements of Edmond Dantes.

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Chapter 2: Father and Son.
We will leave Danglars struggling with the demon of hatred, and endeavoring to insinuate in the ear of the shipowner some evil suspicions against his comrade, and follow Dantes, who, after having traversed La Canebiere, took the Rue de Noailles, and entering a small house, on the left of the Allees de Meillan, rapidly ascended four flights of a dark staircase, holding the baluster with one hand, while with the other he repressed the beatings of his heart, and paused before a half-open door, from which he could see the whole of a small room. This room was occupied by Dantes’ father. The news of the arrival of the Pharaon had not yet reached the old man, who, mounted on a chair, was amusing himself by training with trembling hand the nasturtiums and sprays of clematis that clambered over the trellis at his window. Suddenly, he felt an arm thrown around his body, and a well-known voice behind him exclaimed, “Father – dear father!” The old man uttered a cry, and turned round; then, seeing his son, he fell into his arms, pale and trembling. “What ails you, my dearest father? Are you ill?” inquired the young man, much alarmed. “No, no, my dear Edmond – my boy – my son! – no; but I did not expect you; and joy, the surprise of seeing you so suddenly – Ah, I feel as if I were going to die.” “Come, come, cheer up, my dear father! ‘Tis I – really I! They say joy never hurts, and so I came to you without any warning. Come now, do smile, instead of looking at me so solemnly. Here I am back again, and we are going to be happy.” 13

“Yes, yes, my boy, so we will – so we will,” replied the old man; “but how shall we be happy? Shall you never leave me again? Come, tell me all the good fortune that has befallen you.” “God forgive me,” said the young man, “for rejoicing at happiness derived from the misery of others, but, Heaven knows, I did not seek this good fortune; it has happened, and I really cannot pretend to lament it. The good Captain Leclere is dead, father, and it is probable that, with the aid of M. Morrel, I shall have his place. Do you understand, father? Only imagine me a captain at twenty, with a hundred louis pay, and a share in the profits! Is this not more than a poor sailor like me could have hoped for?” “Yes, my dear boy,” replied the old man, “it is very fortunate.” “Well, then, with the first money I touch, I mean you to have a small house, with a garden in which to plant clematis, nasturtiums, and honeysuckle. But what ails you, father? Are you not well?” “‘Tis nothing, nothing; it will soon pass away” – and as he said so the old man’s strength failed him, and he fell backwards. “Come, come,” said the young man, “a glass of wine, father, will revive you. Where do you keep your wine?” “No, no; thanks. You need not look for it; I do not want it,” said the old man. “Yes, yes, father, tell me where it is,” and he opened two or three cupboards. “It is no use,” said the old man, “there is no wine.” “What, no wine?” said Dantes, turning pale, and looking alternately at the hollow cheeks of the old man and the empty cupboards. “What, no wine? Have you wanted money, father?” 14

“I want nothing now that I have you,” said the old man. “Yet,” stammered Dantes, wiping the perspiration from his brow, – “yet I gave you two hundred francs when I left, three months ago.” “Yes, yes, Edmond, that is true, but you forgot at that time a little debt to our neighbor, Caderousse. He reminded me of it, telling me if I did not pay for you, he would be paid by M. Morrel; and so, you see, lest he might do you an injury” – “Well?” “Why, I paid him.” “But,” cried Dantes, “it was a hundred and forty francs I owed Caderousse.” “Yes,” stammered the old man. “And you paid him out of the two hundred francs I left you?” The old man nodded. “So that you have lived for three months on sixty francs,” muttered Edmond. “You know how little I require,” said the old man. “Heaven pardon me,” cried Edmond, falling on his knees before his father. “What are you doing?” “You have wounded me to the heart.” “Never mind it, for I see you once more,” said the old man; “and now it’s all over – everything is all right again.” 15

“Yes, here I am,” said the young man, “with a promising future and a little money. Here, father, here!” he said, “take this – take it, and send for something immediately.” And he emptied his pockets on the table, the contents consisting of a dozen gold pieces, five or six five-franc pieces, and some smaller coin. The countenance of old Dantes brightened. “Whom does this belong to?” he inquired. “To me, to you, to us! Take it; buy some provisions; be happy, and tomorrow we shall have more.” “Gently, gently,” said the old man, with a smile; “and by your leave I will use your purse moderately, for they would say, if they saw me buy too many things at a time, that I had been obliged to await your return, in order to be able to purchase them.” “Do as you please; but, first of all, pray have a servant, father. I will not have you left alone so long. I have some smuggled coffee and most capital tobacco, in a small chest in the hold, which you shall have to-morrow. But, hush, here comes somebody.” “‘Tis Caderousse, who has heard of your arrival, and no doubt comes to congratulate you on your fortunate return.” “Ah, lips that say one thing, while the heart thinks another,” murmured Edmond. “But, never mind, he is a neighbor who has done us a service on a time, so he’s welcome.” As Edmond paused, the black and bearded head of Caderousse appeared at the door. He was a man of twenty-five or six, and held a piece of cloth, which, being a tailor, he was about to make into a coat-lining. “What, is it you, Edmond, back again?” said he, with a broad Marseillaise accent, and a grin that displayed his ivory-white teeth.

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“Yes, as you see, neighbor Caderousse; and ready to be agreeable to you in any and every way,” replied Dantes, but ill-concealing his coldness under this cloak of civility. “Thanks – thanks; but, fortunately, I do not want for anything; and it chances that at times there are others who have need of me.” Dantes made a gesture. “I do not allude to you, my boy. No! – no! I lent you money, and you returned it; that’s like good neighbors, and we are quits.” “We are never quits with those who oblige us,” was Dantes’ reply; “for when we do not owe them money, we owe them gratitude.” “What’s the use of mentioning that? What is done is done. Let us talk of your happy return, my boy. I had gone on the quay to match a piece of mulberry cloth, when I met friend Danglars. ‘You at Marseilles?’ – ‘Yes,’ says he. “‘I thought you were at Smyrna.’ – ‘I was; but am now back again.’ “‘And where is the dear boy, our little Edmond?’ “‘Why, with his father, no doubt,’ replied Danglars. And so I came,” added Caderousse, “as fast as I could to have the pleasure of shaking hands with a friend.” “Worthy Caderousse!” said the old man, “he is so much attached to us.” “Yes, to be sure I am. I love and esteem you, because honest folks are so rare. But it seems you have come back rich, my boy,” continued the tailor, looking askance at the handful of gold and silver which Dantes had thrown on the table. The young man remarked the greedy glance which shone in the dark eyes of his neighbor. “Eh,” he said, negligently. “this money is not mine. I was expressing to my father my fears that he had wanted many things in my absence, and to convince me he emptied his purse on the table. Come, father” added Dantes, “put this money back in your box – unless neighbor Caderousse wants anything, and in that case it is at his service.” 17

“No, my boy, no,” said Caderousse. “I am not in any want, thank God, my living is suited to my means. Keep your money – keep it, I say; – one never has too much; – but, at the same time, my boy, I am as much obliged by your offer as if I took advantage of it.” “It was offered with good will,” said Dantes. “No doubt, my boy; no doubt. Well, you stand well with M. Morrel I hear, – you insinuating dog, you!” “M. Morrel has always been exceedingly kind to me,” replied Dantes. “Then you were wrong to refuse to dine with him.” “What, did you refuse to dine with him?” said old Dantes; “and did he invite you to dine?” “Yes, my dear father,” replied Edmond, smiling at his father’s astonishment at the excessive honor paid to his son. “And why did you refuse, my son?” inquired the old man. “That I might the sooner see you again, my dear father,” replied the young man. “I was most anxious to see you.” “But it must have vexed M. Morrel, good, worthy man,” said Caderousse. “And when you are looking forward to be captain, it was wrong to annoy the owner.” “But I explained to him the cause of my refusal,” replied Dantes, “and I hope he fully understood it.” “Yes, but to be captain one must do a little flattery to one’s patrons.” “I hope to be captain without that,” said Dantes. 18

“So much the better – so much the better! Nothing will give greater pleasure to all your old friends; and I know one down there behind the Saint Nicolas citadel who will not be sorry to hear it.” “Mercedes?” said the old man. “Yes, my dear father, and with your permission, now I have seen you, and know you are well and have all you require, I will ask your consent to go and pay a visit to the Catalans.” “Go, my dear boy,” said old Dantes: “and heaven bless you in your wife, as it has blessed me in my son!” “His wife!” said Caderousse; “why, how fast you go on, father Dantes; she is not his wife yet, as it seems to me.” “So, but according to all probability she soon will be,” replied Edmond. “Yes – yes,” said Caderousse; “but you were right to return as soon as possible, my boy.” “And why?” “Because Mercedes is a very fine girl, and fine girls never lack followers; she particularly has them by dozens.” “Really?” answered Edmond, with a smile which had in it traces of slight uneasiness. “Ah, yes,” continued Caderousse, “and capital offers, too; but you know, you will be captain, and who could refuse you then?” “Meaning to say,” replied Dantes, with a smile which but ill-concealed his trouble, “that if I were not a captain” – “Eh – eh!” said Caderousse, shaking his head. 19

“Come, come,” said the sailor, “I have a better opinion than you of women in general, and of Mercedes in particular; and I am certain that, captain or not, she will remain ever faithful to me.” “So much the better – so much the better,” said Caderousse. “When one is going to be married, there is nothing like implicit confidence; but never mind that, my boy, – go and announce your arrival, and let her know all your hopes and prospects.” “I will go directly,” was Edmond’s reply; and, embracing his father, and nodding to Caderousse, he left the apartment. Caderousse lingered for a moment, then taking leave of old Dantes, he went downstairs to rejoin Danglars, who awaited him at the corner of the Rue Senac. “Well,” said Danglars, “did you see him?” “I have just left him,” answered Caderousse. “Did he allude to his hope of being captain?” “He spoke of it as a thing already decided.” “Indeed!” said Danglars, “he is in too much hurry, it appears to me.” “Why, it seems M. Morrel has promised him the thing.” “So that he is quite elated about it?” “Why, yes, he is actually insolent over the matter – has already offered me his patronage, as if he were a grand personage, and proffered me a loan of money, as though he were a banker.” “Which you refused?”

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“Most assuredly; although I might easily have accepted it, for it was I who put into his hands the first silver he ever earned; but now M. Dantes has no longer any occasion for assistance – he is about to become a captain.” “Pooh!” said Danglars, “he is not one yet.” “Ma foi, it will be as well if he is not,” answered Caderousse; “for if he should be, there will be really no speaking to him.” “If we choose,” replied Danglars, “he will remain what he is; and perhaps become even less than he is.” “What do you mean?” “Nothing – I was speaking to myself. And is he still in love with the Catalane?” “Over head and ears; but, unless I am much mistaken, there will be a storm in that quarter.” “Explain yourself.” “Why should I?” “It is more important than you think, perhaps. You do not like Dantes?” “I never like upstarts.” “Then tell me all you know about the Catalane.” “I know nothing for certain; only I have seen things which induce me to believe, as I told you, that the future captain will find some annoyance in the vicinity of the Vieilles Infirmeries.” “What have you seen? – come, tell me!”

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“Well, every time I have seen Mercedes come into the city she has been accompanied by a tall, strapping, black-eyed Catalan, with a red complexion, brown skin, and fierce air, whom she calls cousin.” “Really; and you think this cousin pays her attentions?” “I only suppose so. What else can a strapping chap of twenty-one mean with a fine wench of seventeen?” “And you say that Dantes has gone to the Catalans?” “He went before I came down.” “Let us go the same way; we will stop at La Reserve, and we can drink a glass of La Malgue, whilst we wait for news.” “Come along,” said Caderousse; “but you pay the score.” “Of course,” replied Danglars; and going quickly to the designated place, they called for a bottle of wine, and two glasses. Pere Pamphile had seen Dantes pass not ten minutes before; and assured that he was at the Catalans, they sat down under the budding foliage of the planes and sycamores, in the branches of which the birds were singing their welcome to one of the first days of spring.

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Chapter 3: The Catalans.
Beyond a bare, weather-worn wall, about a hundred paces from the spot where the two friends sat looking and listening as they drank their wine, was the village of the Catalans. Long ago this mysterious colony quitted Spain, and settled on the tongue of land on which it is to this day. Whence it came no one knew, and it spoke an unknown tongue. One of its chiefs, who understood Provencal, begged the commune of Marseilles to give them this bare and barren promontory, where, like the sailors of old, they had run their boats ashore. The request was granted; and three months afterwards, around the twelve or fifteen small vessels which had brought these gypsies of the sea, a small village sprang up. This village, constructed in a singular and picturesque manner, half Moorish, half Spanish, still remains, and is inhabited by descendants of the first comers, who speak the language of their fathers. For three or four centuries they have remained upon this small promontory, on which they had settled like a flight of seabirds, without mixing with the Marseillaise population, intermarrying, and preserving their original customs and the costume of their mother-country as they have preserved its language. Our readers will follow us along the only street of this little village, and enter with us one of the houses, which is sunburned to the beautiful deadleaf color peculiar to the buildings of the country, and within coated with whitewash, like a Spanish posada. A young and beautiful girl, with hair as black as jet, her eyes as velvety as the gazelle’s, was leaning with her back against the wainscot, rubbing in her slender delicately moulded fingers a bunch of heath blossoms, the flowers of which she was picking off and strewing on the floor; her arms, bare to the elbow, brown, and modelled after those of the Arlesian Venus, moved with a kind of restless impatience, and she tapped the earth with her arched and supple foot, so as to display the pure and full shape of her well-turned leg, in its red cotton, gray and blue clocked, stocking. At three paces from her, seated in a chair which he balanced on two legs, leaning his elbow on an old worm-eaten 23

table, was a tall young man of twenty, or two-and-twenty, who was looking at her with an air in which vexation and uneasiness were mingled. He questioned her with his eyes, but the firm and steady gaze of the young girl controlled his look. “You see, Mercedes,” said the young man, “here is Easter come round again; tell me, is this the moment for a wedding?” “I have answered you a hundred times, Fernand, and really you must be very stupid to ask me again.” “Well, repeat it, – repeat it, I beg of you, that I may at last believe it! Tell me for the hundredth time that you refuse my love, which had your mother’s sanction. Make me understand once for all that you are trifling with my happiness, that my life or death are nothing to you. Ah, to have dreamed for ten years of being your husband, Mercedes, and to lose that hope, which was the only stay of my existence!” “At least it was not I who ever encouraged you in that hope, Fernand,” replied Mercedes; “you cannot reproach me with the slightest coquetry. I have always said to you, ‘I love you as a brother; but do not ask from me more than sisterly affection, for my heart is another’s.’ Is not this true, Fernand?” “Yes, that is very true, Mercedes,” replied the young man, “Yes, you have been cruelly frank with me; but do you forget that it is among the Catalans a sacred law to intermarry?” “You mistake, Fernand; it is not a law, but merely a custom, and, I pray of you, do not cite this custom in your favor. You are included in the conscription, Fernand, and are only at liberty on sufferance, liable at any moment to be called upon to take up arms. Once a soldier, what would you do with me, a poor orphan, forlorn, without fortune, with nothing but a half-ruined hut and a few ragged nets, the miserable inheritance left by my father to my mother, and by my mother to me? She has been dead a year, and you know, Fernand, I have subsisted almost entirely on public charity. 24

Sometimes you pretend I am useful to you, and that is an excuse to share with me the produce of your fishing, and I accept it, Fernand, because you are the son of my father’s brother, because we were brought up together, and still more because it would give you so much pain if I refuse. But I feel very deeply that this fish which I go and sell, and with the produce of which I buy the flax I spin, – I feel very keenly, Fernand, that this is charity.” “And if it were, Mercedes, poor and lone as you are, you suit me as well as the daughter of the first shipowner or the richest banker of Marseilles! What do such as we desire but a good wife and careful housekeeper, and where can I look for these better than in you?” “Fernand,” answered Mercedes, shaking her head, “a woman becomes a bad manager, and who shall say she will remain an honest woman, when she loves another man better than her husband? Rest content with my friendship, for I say once more that is all I can promise, and I will promise no more than I can bestow.” “I understand,” replied Fernand, “you can endure your own wretchedness patiently, but you are afraid to share mine. Well, Mercedes, beloved by you, I would tempt fortune; you would bring me good luck, and I should become rich. I could extend my occupation as a fisherman, might get a place as clerk in a warehouse, and become in time a dealer myself.” “You could do no such thing, Fernand; you are a soldier, and if you remain at the Catalans it is because there is no war; so remain a fisherman, and contented with my friendship, as I cannot give you more.” “Well, I will do better, Mercedes. I will be a sailor; instead of the costume of our fathers, which you despise, I will wear a varnished hat, a striped shirt, and a blue jacket, with an anchor on the buttons. Would not that dress please you?” “What do you mean?” asked Mercedes, with an angry glance, – “what do you mean? I do not understand you?” 25

“I mean, Mercedes, that you are thus harsh and cruel with me, because you are expecting some one who is thus attired; but perhaps he whom you await is inconstant, or if he is not, the sea is so to him.” “Fernand,” cried Mercedes, “I believed you were good-hearted, and I was mistaken! Fernand, you are wicked to call to your aid jealousy and the anger of God! Yes, I will not deny it, I do await, and I do love him of whom you speak; and, if he does not return, instead of accusing him of the inconstancy which you insinuate, I will tell you that he died loving me and me only.” The young girl made a gesture of rage. “I understand you, Fernand; you would be revenged on him because I do not love you; you would cross your Catalan knife with his dirk. What end would that answer? To lose you my friendship if he were conquered, and see that friendship changed into hate if you were victor. Believe me, to seek a quarrel with a man is a bad method of pleasing the woman who loves that man. No, Fernand, you will not thus give way to evil thoughts. Unable to have me for your wife, you will content yourself with having me for your friend and sister; and besides,” she added, her eyes troubled and moistened with tears, “wait, wait, Fernand; you said just now that the sea was treacherous, and he has been gone four months, and during these four months there have been some terrible storms.” Fernand made no reply, nor did he attempt to check the tears which flowed down the cheeks of Mercedes, although for each of these tears he would have shed his heart’s blood; but these tears flowed for another. He arose, paced a while up and down the hut, and then, suddenly stopping before Mercedes, with his eyes glowing and his hands clinched, – “Say, Mercedes,” he said, “once for all, is this your final determination?” “I love Edmond Dantes,” the young girl calmly replied, “and none but Edmond shall ever be my husband.” “And you will always love him?” “As long as I live.” 26

Fernand let fall his head like a defeated man, heaved a sigh that was like a groan, and then suddenly looking her full in the face, with clinched teeth and expanded nostrils, said, – “But if he is dead” – “If he is dead, I shall die too.” “If he has forgotten you” – “Mercedes!” called a joyous voice from without, – “Mercedes!” “Ah,” exclaimed the young girl, blushing with delight, and fairly leaping in excess of love, “you see he has not forgotten me, for here he is!” And rushing towards the door, she opened it, saying, “Here, Edmond, here I am!” Fernand, pale and trembling, drew back, like a traveller at the sight of a serpent, and fell into a chair beside him. Edmond and Mercedes were clasped in each other’s arms. The burning Marseilles sun, which shot into the room through the open door, covered them with a flood of light. At first they saw nothing around them. Their intense happiness isolated them from all the rest of the world, and they only spoke in broken words, which are the tokens of a joy so extreme that they seem rather the expression of sorrow. Suddenly Edmond saw the gloomy, pale, and threatening countenance of Fernand, as it was defined in the shadow. By a movement for which he could scarcely account to himself, the young Catalan placed his hand on the knife at his belt. “Ah, your pardon,” said Dantes, frowning in his turn; “I did not perceive that there were three of us.” Then, turning to Mercedes, he inquired, “Who is this gentleman?” “One who will be your best friend, Dantes, for he is my friend, my cousin, my brother; it is Fernand – the man whom, after you, Edmond, I love the best in the world. Do you not remember him?”

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“Yes!” said Dantes, and without relinquishing Mercedes hand clasped in one of his own, he extended the other to the Catalan with a cordial air. But Fernand, instead of responding to this amiable gesture, remained mute and trembling. Edmond then cast his eyes scrutinizingly at the agitated and embarrassed Mercedes, and then again on the gloomy and menacing Fernand. This look told him all, and his anger waxed hot. “I did not know, when I came with such haste to you, that I was to meet an enemy here.” “An enemy!” cried Mercedes, with an angry look at her cousin. “An enemy in my house, do you say, Edmond! If I believed that, I would place my arm under yours and go with you to Marseilles, leaving the house to return to it no more.” Fernand’s eye darted lightning. “And should any misfortune occur to you, dear Edmond,” she continued with the same calmness which proved to Fernand that the young girl had read the very innermost depths of his sinister thought, “if misfortune should occur to you, I would ascend the highest point of the Cape de Morgion and cast myself headlong from it.” Fernand became deadly pale. “But you are deceived, Edmond,” she continued. “You have no enemy here – there is no one but Fernand, my brother, who will grasp your hand as a devoted friend.” And at these words the young girl fixed her imperious look on the Catalan, who, as if fascinated by it, came slowly towards Edmond, and offered him his hand. His hatred, like a powerless though furious wave, was broken against the strong ascendancy which Mercedes exercised over him. Scarcely, however, had he touched Edmond’s hand than he felt he had done all he could do, and rushed hastily out of the house. “Oh,” he exclaimed, running furiously and tearing his hair – “Oh, who will deliver me from this man? Wretched – wretched that I am!”

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we must inquire into that. whose shade seemed to restore somewhat of calmness to his senses. and turning towards the young man. Fernand! where are you running to?” exclaimed a voice. can’t you make up your mind?” Fernand wiped away the perspiration steaming from his brow. said. “Are we mistaken. and I was afraid you would throw yourself into the sea. didn’t you?” And he fell. “Well. pushing Caderousse with his knee. but did not say a word.” said Danglars. and whose coolness somewhat of refreshment to his exhausted body. when a man has friends. “Good-day. looked around him. they are not only to offer him a glass of wine. to prevent his swallowing three or four pints of water unnecessarily!” 29 . on one of the seats which surrounded the table.” said he. The young man stopped suddenly. “Why. and perceived Caderousse sitting at table with Danglars. “He seems besotted.” said Caderousse. “I called you because you were running like a madman. rather than sat down. said Caderousse.“Hallo. Catalan. Fernand looked at them both with a stupefied air. “Well”.” was Caderousse’s reply. under an arbor. “You called me. but. moreover. and is Dantes triumphant in spite of all we have believed?” “Why. Catalan! Hallo.” added Danglars. and slowly entered the arbor. “why don’t you come? Are you really in such a hurry that you have no time to pass the time of day with your friends?” “Particularly when they have still a full bottle before them. laughing.

“only hark how he sighs! Come. and dropped his head into his hands. Danglars. if you take it in that sense. “Ah. I must say. It’s not polite not to reply to friends who ask news of your health. one of the best fishermen in Marseilles.” “No. and what then?” said Fernand.” said Fernand. clinching his hands without raising his head. come. is a good and brave Catalan. with that brutality of the common people in which curiosity destroys all diplomacy. Fernand.” said Danglars. “this is how it is.” he replied. and answer us. winking at his friend. Caderousse. “Bah!” said Danglars. “Well. “Poor Fernand has been dismissed.” said Caderousse.” continued Caderousse. unfortunately. is she? Is she not free to love whomsoever she will?” “Oh. lifting up his head. “you look uncommonly like a rejected lover. named Mercedes. and looking at Caderousse like a man who looks for some one on whom to vent his anger. Fernand.” and he burst into a hoarse laugh. “it is another thing. but it appears. which resembled a sob. “Mercedes is not accountable to any person. “a lad of his make was not born to be unhappy in love. “hold up your head. I do not understand. You are laughing at him.Fernand gave a groan. that the fine girl is in love with the mate of the Pharaon. “Well. beginning the conversation. his elbows leaning on the table. But I thought you were a Catalan. you see. and as the Pharaon arrived to-day – why.” said Caderousse. and they told me the Catalans were not men 30 . you understand!” “No. whom you see here. Fernand.” said Caderousse.” said Caderousse. and he is in love with a very fine girl.” “My health is well enough.

Danglars?” “No. ma foi. never mind.” “Well. on whose heart Caderousse’s words fell like molten lead. “Why. especially. you are right – and I should say that would bring him ill-luck. “No. you see. – “under any circumstances Fernand is not the only person put out by the fortunate arrival of Dantes. “A lover is never terrible.” Fernand smiled piteously. or perchance faithless! These things always come on us more severely when they come suddenly. “Oh.” he said. under any circumstances. and on whom the fumes of the wine began to take effect. “Poor fellow!” remarked Danglars.” answered Caderousse. pouring out a glass of wine for Fernand. while Danglars had merely sipped his. who drank as he spoke. to try and detect whether the blow was 31 . perhaps. whose countenance he scrutinized. “Never mind – in the meantime he marries Mercedes – the lovely Mercedes – at least he returns to do that. was terrible in his vengeance. “And when is the wedding to be?” he asked. It was even told me that Fernand. and turned to Caderousse.” During this time Danglars fixed his piercing glance on the young man.to allow themselves to be supplanted by a rival.” said Caderousse. is he. Danglars?” Danglars shuddered at this unexpected attack. affecting to pity the young man from the bottom of his heart.” “Ah. but it will be. he did not expect to see Dantes return so suddenly – he thought he was dead.” said Caderousse. it is not yet fixed!” murmured Fernand. and filling his own for the eighth or ninth time. “as surely as Dantes will be captain of the Pharaon – eh.

Fernand?” he said. and looked at them with her clear and bright eyes. they do not know that we can see them.” “Hold your tongue. eh. See. pricked by Danglars. “and I did not recognize them! Hallo. probably excited beyond bearing. for Fernand here is so obstinate he will not tell us. pretending to restrain Caderousse. and let us know when the wedding is to be. in a low voice. with the tenacity of drunkards. who. I believe I see double. filling the glasses.” was the reply. You know wine is a deceiver. and they are actually embracing!” Danglars did not lose one pang that Fernand endured. as the bull is by the bandilleros.premeditated. Heaven forgive me. eh!” stammered Caderousse. lovely damsel! Come this way. At this Fernand recollected 32 . and swallowed the contents at a gulp. and follow his example. for he had risen from his seat. “Well. “Do you know them. but I should say it was two lovers walking side by side. and seemed to be collecting himself to dash headlong upon his rival. leaned out of the arbor. but he read nothing but envy in a countenance already rendered brutal and stupid by drunkenness. see there. “Eh. Fernand dashed his on the ground. “What do I see down there by the wall. “Try to stand upright. and let the lovers make love without interruption. husband of the beautiful Catalane!” Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with unsteady hand. “let us drink to Captain Edmond Dantes. Fernand. when Mercedes. your eyes are better than mine. he is well-behaved!” Fernand. and hand in hand. “It is Edmond and Mercedes!” “Ah. lifted up her lovely head. will you?” said Danglars. in the direction of the Catalans? Look. was about to rush out. look at Fernand. “Yes. now!” said Caderousse. smiling and graceful.” said he. Dantes! hello.

“I shall get nothing from these fools.” he muttered. “and I am very much afraid of being here between a drunkard and a coward. unless” – a sinister smile passed over Danglars’ lips – “unless I take a hand in the affair. Edmond! do you not see your friends. So call me Mercedes. and laugh at us all. that’s an explanation!” said Caderousse.” said Danglars. and dropped again heavily on his seat. and he will marry the splendid girl – he will be captain. “How do you do. more than pride. if you please. Madame Dantes?” Mercedes courtesied gravely. “hallo. the wedding is to take place immediately. the one brutalized by liquor. Yet this Catalan has eyes that glisten like those of the vengeful Spaniards. and Calabrians. and happiness blinds. and said – “That is not my name. M. and with his fist on the table. the other overwhelmed with love. half-rising. but I am happy. “he is so easily mistaken. Unquestionably. Caderousse. and here is a fool who sees the woman he loves stolen from under his nose and takes on like a big baby.” he added. to call a young girl by the name of her betrothed before he becomes her husband. “I am not proud. and the other has fists big enough to crush an ox at one blow.her threat of dying if Edmond died. too. I think.” “Ah. Here’s an envious fellow making himself boozy on wine when he ought to be nursing his wrath. and in my country it bodes ill fortune. Sicilians. Dantes. one after the other. my dear fellow!” replied Dantes.” “We must excuse our worthy neighbor. or are you too proud to speak to them?” “No. 33 . Danglars looked at the two men. then. bowing to the young couple. they say.” “So. Edmond’s star is in the ascendant. “Hallo!” continued Caderousse.” said Dantes. very well.

and you. should be very sorry if he were absent at such a time. Danglars. “Fernand. Mercedes and I. Dantes?” “Yes. M. Danglars. and he could not utter a word.” Fernand opened his mouth to reply. M.” “We are always in a hurry to be happy. “and we. Caderousse. the Pharaon cannot be under weigh again in less than three months.” said Edmond.” replied Danglars. “To-day the preliminaries.” “And Fernand. is invited!” “My wife’s brother is my brother. to-day all preliminaries will be arranged at my father’s.“As soon as possible. ‘Do not give me a title which does not belong to me’. or next day at latest.” “Ah. too. “I merely said you seemed in a hurry. you are invited. I must go to Paris. to-morrow or next day the ceremony! You are in a hurry. Danglars. for when we have suffered a long time.” “Your pardon. My friends will be there. that is to say.” “Have you business there?” 34 . and we have lots of time. smiling. we have great difficulty in believing in good fortune. that may bring me bad luck. I hope. and to-morrow.” said Edmond. the wedding festival here at La Reserve. captain!” “Danglars.” said Caderousse with a chuckle. M. but his voice died on his lips. “I will say to you as Mercedes said just now to Caderousse. But it is not selfishness alone that makes me thus in haste. really? – to Paris! and will it be the first time you have ever been there.

” said Edmond with a friendly nod. he added. “Thank you. “To Paris. Dantes. I shall only take the time to go and return. “A pleasant journey. you are not yet registered number one on board the good ship Pharaon.” he cried.” said Danglars. Ah. Besides. yes. the last commission of poor Captain Leclere. you know to what I allude. 35 . my friend.” “Yes.“Not of my own. no doubt to deliver the letter which the grand marshal gave him. and then in a low tone. Danglars – it is sacred. I understand. as calm and joyous as if they were the very elect of heaven. who was walking away. and the two lovers continued on their way. this letter gives me an idea – a capital idea! Ah.” then turning towards Edmond.

Danglars followed Edmond and Mercedes with his eyes until the two lovers disappeared behind one of the angles of Fort Saint Nicolas. seek. “Well.” “I have found already.” “And you sit there. I did not think that was the way of your people. “Do you. then. “here is a marriage which does not appear to make everybody happy. “How do I know? Is it my affair? I am not in love with Mademoiselle Mercedes. instead of seeking to remedy your condition. pale and trembling. but for you – in the words of the gospel. love Mercedes?” “I adore her!” “For long?” “As long as I have known her – always. my dear sir. then turning round. into his chair. tearing your hair.Chapter 4: Conspiracy. who had fallen.” “What would you have me do?” said Fernand. and you shall find.” said Danglars to Fernand. while Caderousse stammered out the words of a drinkingsong. he perceived Fernand.” “It drives me to despair.” said Fernand.” “What?” 36 .

“I would die myself!” “That’s what I call love!” said Caderousse with a voice more tipsy than ever. if you like. finish the bottle. Drink then. awaiting with great anxiety the end of this interrupted remark.” replied Fernand. what matter. “whether she kill herself or not. “What was I saying? I forget. This drunken Caderousse has made me lose the thread of my sentence. she would kill herself. “you are three parts drunk. for that requires all one’s wit and cool judgment.” “You do not know Mercedes. sir” – said Fernand. and hang me. for it is because they have bad thoughts which they are afraid the liquor will 37 . what she threatens she will do.” “Pooh! Women say those things. so much the worse for those who fear wine.” “Idiot!” muttered Danglars. or I don’t know what love is. “you appear to me a good sort of fellow. “but how?” “My dear fellow. and you will be completely so. but the woman told me that if any misfortune happened to her betrothed. “You were saying. “That’s love.” said Danglars. with the accents of unshaken resolution. they are no bigger than cologne flasks. but never do them. and do not meddle with what we are discussing.” replied Danglars. “well that’s a good one! I could drink four more such bottles. but” – “Yes. I should like to help you.“I would stab the man.” “Drunk. provided Dantes is not captain?” “Before Mercedes should die.” said Caderousse. Pere Pamphile.” “Come.” “I – drunk!” said Caderousse. more wine!” and Caderousse rattled his glass upon the table.

your health. “should they put Dantes in prison? he has not robbed or killed or murdered. indeed. methinks. Dantes. “And why. my friend.” said Caderousse. deep fellow. and if the walls of a prison were between Edmond and Mercedes they would be as effectually separated as if he lay under a tombstone. clever. to help you it would be sufficient that Dantes did not marry her you love. Say there is no need why Dantes should die. but one gets out of prison.” and Caderousse began to sing the two last lines of a song very popular at the time. who. but” – “Yes.” “Hold your tongue!” said Danglars. restraining the young man. listened eagerly to the conversation. and the marriage may easily be thwarted. “You talk like a noodle. it would. with what sense was left him. I should like to know.” “Death alone can separate them. “and when one gets out and one’s name is Edmond Dantes.’ “You said. C’est bien prouvé par le deluge. Absence severs as well as death. and yet Dantes need not die. “and here is Danglars.extract from their hearts. you would like to help me. Prove it. “drunk as he is. I like Dantes. be a pity he should. Danglars. who will prove to you that you are wrong. but I added.” said Danglars. 38 .” said Caderousse.” persisted Caderousse.” Fernand rose impatiently.” remarked Fernand. one seeks revenge” – “What matters that?” muttered Fernand. I have answered for you. “Let him run on.” “Yes. sir. – ‘Tous les méchants sont beuveurs d’eau. who is a wide-awake. he is not much out in what he says. Dantes is a good fellow.

get out of the affair as best you may. “but this I know. I won’t have Dantes killed – I won’t!” 39 . “No. no.“I won’t hold my tongue!” replied Caderousse. seizing his arm. I hate him! I confess it openly. I will execute it. Have you that means?” “It is to be found for the searching. he said. for Mercedes has declared she will kill herself if Dantes is killed. Do you find the means. and this morning offered to share his money with me. but since you believe I act for my own account. restraining him. and looking at Fernand with his dull and fishy eyes. that’s all. But why should I meddle in the matter? it is no affair of mine. Danglars saw in the muddled look of the tailor the progress of his intoxication. now raised it. on my word! I saw you were unhappy. your health!” and he swallowed another glass of wine.” “Certainly not. provided it is not to kill the man.” and Danglars rose as if he meant to depart. “stay! It is of very little consequence to me at the end of the matter whether you have any angry feeling or not against Dantes. you understand there is no need to kill him. you have some motive of personal hatred against Dantes. as you said just now. my dear friend. who had let his head drop on the table. – “Kill Dantes! who talks of killing Dantes? I won’t have him killed – I won’t! He’s my friend. and turning towards Fernand. and your unhappiness interested me. you have the means of having Dantes arrested. “I say I want to know why they should put Dantes in prison.” Caderousse.” “I know not why you meddle. if. said.” “I! – motives of hatred against Dantes? None. “Well. Dantes. for he who himself hates is never mistaken in the sentiments of others.” said Fernand.” said Fernand. as I shared mine with him. I like Dantes. adieu.

” “True.” said Caderousse. “Waiter. I am a supercargo. “Have you not hit upon any?” asked Danglars. then. “We were merely joking. ink.” “Pen.” said the waiter. “pen. “No! – you undertook to do so. and paper are my tools.” “Pen. and a sheet of paper.” said Danglars. muddlehead?” replied Danglars. “the French have the superiority over the Spaniards. and without my tools I am fit for nothing.” called Fernand loudly. “When one thinks.“And who has said a word about killing him.” said Fernand impatiently.” “Do you invent.” “Yes. “There’s what you want on that table. emptying his glass. “Yes. and paper. “here’s to his health! his health – hurrah!” “But the means – the means?” said Fernand. drink to his health. “Bring them here. while the French invent. that the Spaniards ruminate.” The waiter did as he was desired. then. Dantes’ good health!” said Caderousse. ink. pen. “there is here wherewithal to kill a man more sure than if we waited at the corner of a wood to assassinate him! I have always had more dread of a pen.” he added. than of a sword or pistol.” 40 . yes.” muttered Fernand. ink. “and do not interfere with us. filling Caderousse’s glass. ink. letting his hand drop on the paper. and paper. and paper.” replied Danglars. a bottle of ink.

” “Yes. “that if after a voyage such as Dantes has just made. like the confirmed toper he was. and Mercedes! Mercedes.” said Danglars. The Catalan watched him until Caderousse. dip it into this ink. “Give him some more wine. I should say. or rather dropped. then. who.“The fellow is not so drunk as he appears to be. I should wish nothing better than that he would come and seek a quarrel with me. and one day or other he will leave it. lifted his hand from the paper and seized the glass. But Dantes cannot remain forever in prison. this pen. rested. no. and confront you with him you have denounced. as he saw the final glimmer of Caderousse’s reason vanishing before the last glass of wine. for I know the fact well. and the day when he comes out. his glass upon the table. for instance.” resumed Danglars. “if we resolve on such a step. as I now do. “Yes. some one were to denounce him to the king’s procureur as a Bonapartist agent” – “I will denounce him!” exclaimed the young man hastily. it would be much better to take. “No. in which he touched at the Island of Elba. almost overcome by this fresh assault on his senses.” Fernand filled Caderousse’s glass. woe betide him who was the cause of his incarceration!” “Oh. I will supply you with the means of supporting your accusation.” continued Danglars. who will detest you if you have only the misfortune to scratch the skin of her dearly beloved Edmond!” “True!” said Fernand. but they will make you then sign your declaration. “Well. Fernand. “Well!” resumed the Catalan. and write with the left hand (that the writing may not be recognized) the 41 .

mate of the ship Pharaon. “now your revenge looks like commonsense. uniting practice with theory. who.” “And who thinks of using him ill? Certainly neither I nor Fernand. and that’s all settled. amongst the first and foremost. 42 .” said Danglars. is informed by a friend of the throne and religion. “Dantes is my friend. arrived this morning from Smyrna. “Yes. by a last effort of intellect. there is nothing to do now but fold the letter as I am doing.” and he stretched out his hand to reach the letter. had followed the reading of the letter. “Yes. and instinctively comprehended all the misery which such a denunciation must entail. after having touched at Naples and PortoFerrajo. for in no way can it revert to yourself. and I won’t have him ill-used. the king’s attorney. taking it from beyond his reach. has been intrusted by Murat with a letter for the usurper. and by the usurper with a letter for the Bonapartist committee in Paris. he squeezed it up in his hands and threw it into a corner of the arbor. wrote with his left hand. or in his cabin on board the Pharaon. only it will be an infamous shame.” And Danglars.” said Danglars. or at his father’s. and write upon it. that one Edmond Dantes.” And Danglars wrote the address as he spoke.denunciation we propose. who still remained seated. should be sorry if anything happened to Dantes – the worthy Dantes – look here!” And taking the letter. “Yes. and which Fernand read in an undertone: – “The honorable. “All right!” said Caderousse. and that’s all settled!” exclaimed Caderousse. which he handed to Fernand. ‘To the king’s attorney. the following lines. for the letter will be found upon him. Proof of this crime will be found on arresting him. and totally unlike it.” “Very good. and in a writing reversed from his usual style. rising and looking at the young man.” resumed Danglars. and the matter will thus work its own way.’ and that’s all settled. and I. “and as what I say and do is merely in jest.

“I shall return to the Catalans. “let’s have some more wine. I wish to drink to the health of Edmond and the lovely Mercedes. Come. too!” “Done!” said Danglars. Give me your arm. Come along. “and if you continue.” “You have had too much already.but whose eye was fixed on the denunciatory sheet of paper flung into the corner.” said Danglars. staggering as he went. to take him off towards Marseilles by the Porte Saint-Victor.” said Caderousse. there’s liberty for all the world. Danglars. “I can’t keep on my legs? Why. let us go. Fernand. I’ll wager I can go up into the belfry of the Accoules.” said Fernand. “I’ll take your bet.” “What do you mean? you will not? Well.” “I?” said Caderousse. rising with all the offended dignity of a drunken man. and without staggering. just as you like. “but I don’t want your arm at all. drunkard.” “I will not. because unable to stand on your legs.” “You’re wrong. and let the young gentleman return to the Catalans if he chooses. “In this case.” replied Caderousse.” Danglars took advantage of Caderousse’s temper at the moment.” “Very well. 43 . you will be compelled to sleep here. my prince. but to-morrow – to-day it is time to return. Come with us to Marseilles – come along. and let us go. won’t you return to Marseilles with us?” “No.

” said Caderousse. “now the thing is at work and it will effect its purpose unassisted.” said Caderousse. and he is going to the city. come. you don’t see straight. Danglars looked back and saw Fernand stoop. “why.When they had advanced about twenty yards.” said Danglars to himself. Hallo. pick up the crumpled paper. what a lie he told! He said he was going to the Catalans.” 44 . “Well.” said Danglars. “he’s gone right enough. “I should have said not – how treacherous wine is!” “Come. and putting it into his pocket then rush out of the arbor towards Pillon.” “Well. Fernand!” “Oh.

who hailed the visit of the shipowner as a sure indication that the man whose wedding feast he thus delighted to honor would ere long be first in command of the ship. And although the entertainment was fixed for twelve o’clock. who now made his appearance. The apartment destined for the purpose was spacious and lighted by a number of windows. Morrel. consisting of the favored part of the crew of the Pharaon. however. an hour previous to that time the balcony was filled with impatient and expectant guests. and as Dantes was universally beloved on board his vessel. Morrel appeared and was saluted with an enthusiastic burst of applause from the crew of the Pharaon. who had himself assured him of his intention to dine at La Reserve. Danglars. the whole of whom had arrayed themselves in their choicest costumes. touching the foamy waves into a network of ruby-tinted light. and other personal friends of the bride-groom.Chapter 5: The Marriage-Feast. with whose arbor the reader is already familiar. Various rumors were afloat to the effect that the owners of the Pharaon had promised to attend the nuptial feast. the 45 . in order to do greater honor to the occasion. over each of which was written in golden letters for some inexplicable reason the name of one of the principal cities of France. The feast had been made ready on the second floor at La Reserve. In fact. accompanied by Caderousse. but all seemed unanimous in doubting that an act of such rare and exceeding condescension could possibly be intended. The morning’s sun rose clear and resplendent. stating that he had recently conversed with M. beneath these windows a wooden balcony extended the entire length of the house. a moment later M. effectually confirmed the report.

but ere they had gone many steps they perceived a group advancing towards them. composed of the betrothed pair. 46 .sailors put no restraint on their tumultuous joy at finding that the opinion and choice of their superiors so exactly coincided with their own. The old man was attired in a suit of glistening watered silk. just as the brain retains on waking in the morning the dim and misty outline of a dream. although there still lingered in his mind a faint and unperfect recollection of the events of the preceding night. trimmed with steel buttons. Danglars and Caderousse were despatched in search of the bride-groom to convey to him the intelligence of the arrival of the important personage whose coming had created such a lively sensation. evidently of English manufacture. by whose side walked Dantes’ father. whose desire to partake of the good things provided for the wedding-party had induced him to become reconciled to the Dantes. Beside him glided Caderousse. His thin but wiry legs were arrayed in a pair of richly embroidered clocked stockings. a party of young girls in attendance on the bride. Danglars and Caderousse took their places beside Fernand and old Dantes. – the latter of whom attracted universal notice. and exchanged a hearty shake of the hand with Edmond. supporting himself on a curiously carved stick. Neither Mercedes nor Edmond observed the strange expression of his countenance. they were so happy that they were conscious only of the sunshine and the presence of each other. while from his three-cornered hat depended a long streaming knot of white and blue ribbons. looking for all the world like one of the aged dandies of 1796. father and son. Danglars and Caderousse set off upon their errand at full speed. beautifully cut and polished. and to beseech him to make haste. Thus he came along. Morrel. his aged countenance lit up with happiness. With the entrance of M. the whole brought up by Fernand. Having acquitted themselves of their errand. whose lips wore their usual sinister smile. parading the newly opened gardens of the Tuileries and Luxembourg.

while. to whom he had repeated the promise already given. or. rejoice with me. was pale and abstracted.” As soon as the bridal party came in sight of La Reserve. but. at least. clad in the dress peculiar to the merchant service – a costume somewhat between a military and a civil garb. was gayly followed by the guests. forthwith conducting her up the flight of wooden steps leading to the chamber in which the feast was prepared. and with his fine countenance. a more perfect specimen of manly beauty could scarcely be imagined. on the contrary. but becomingly. and a nervous contraction distort his features. Edmond. he would glance in the direction of Marseilles. Morrel descended and came forth to meet it. beneath whose heavy tread the slight structure creaked and groaned for the space of several minutes. coral lips.” pointing with a soft and gentle smile to 47 . One more practiced in the arts of great cities would have hid her blushes beneath a veil. the delighted girl looked around her with a smile that seemed to say: “If you are my friends. with an agitated and restless gaze. occasionally. who.” said Mercedes. respectfully placed the arm of his affianced bride within that of M. Lovely as the Greek girls of Cyprus or Chios. Mercedes boasted the same bright flashing eyes of jet. I pray you. he cast on him a look of deep meaning. radiant with joy and happiness. in their own unmixed content. while Fernand. on my right hand. at the approach of his patron. round. to have entirely forgotten that such a being as himself existed.As Danglars approached the disappointed lover. and ripe. who seemed. stopping when she had reached the centre of the table. “sit. Dantes himself was simply. however. on my left I will place him who has ever been as a brother to me. for I am very happy. “Father. She moved with the light. followed by the soldiers and sailors there assembled. free step of an Arlesienne or an Andalusian. that Dantes should be the successor to the late Captain Leclere. as he slowly paced behind the happy pair. a deep flush would overspread his countenance. M. Morrel. like one who either anticipated or foresaw some great and important event. so as to have concealed the liquid lustre of her animated eyes. have cast down her thickly fringed lashes.

prawns of large size and brilliant color.” replied Dantes. if that is what you meant by your observation. but her words and look seemed to inflict the direst torture on him. Morrel was seated at his right hand. whose excitable nature received and betrayed each fresh impression.Fernand. at a sign from Edmond. as he carried to his lips a glass of wine of the hue and brightness of the topaz. that are cast up by the wash of waters on the sandy beach. merry party. the clovis. “that I am too happy for noisy mirth. 48 . During this time. “a man cannot always feel happy because he is about to be married. – all the delicacies. and even beneath the dark hue of his complexion the blood might be seen retreating as though some sudden pang drove it back to the heart. and styled by the grateful fishermen “fruits of the sea. “Now. you are right. who desire nothing better than to laugh and dance the hours away?” “Ah. my worthy friend. the echinus with its prickly outside and dainty morsel within.” sighed Caderousse. it seems to oppress us almost the same as sorrow.” “The truth is. joy takes a strange effect at times.” Danglars looked towards Fernand. while. had been occupied in similarly placing his most honored guests. esteemed by the epicures of the South as more than rivalling the exquisite flavor of the oyster. and lobsters in their dazzling red cuirasses. M. piquant. in fact.” “A pretty silence truly!” said the old father of the bride-groom. at the opposite side of the table. Danglars at his left. Then they began to pass around the dusky. Dantes. for his lips became ghastly pale. Arlesian sausages. would anybody think that this room contained a happy. the rest of the company ranged themselves as they found it most agreeable. and which had just been placed before Mercedes herself.

“In an hour?” inquired Danglars. happiness is like the enchanted palaces we read of in our childhood. neighbor Caderousse. fiery dragons defend the entrance and approach. I own that I am lost in wonder to find myself promoted to an honor of which I feel myself unworthy – that of being the husband of Mercedes. thus it is. drawing out his watch. “Man does not appear to me to be intended to enjoy felicity so unmixed. where fierce.” “And that is the very thing that alarms me. and monsters of all shapes and kinds.” A general exclamation of surprise ran round the table. while Fernand grasped the handle of his knife with a convulsive clutch. and see how she will remind you that your hour is not yet come!” The bride blushed. my friend?” “Why.” “Nay. We have purchased permission to waive the usual 49 . Mercedes is not yet your wife. whose laugh displayed the still perfect beauty of his large white teeth. smiling. next to my father. it is not worth while to contradict me for such a trifle as that. “you have not attained that honor yet. never mind that.“Why. every difficulty his been removed. seemed to start at every fresh sound. and from time to time wiped away the large drops of perspiration that gathered on his brow. with the exception of the elder Dantes. requiring to be overcome ere victory is ours. what ails you?” asked he of Edmond. Morrel. but. I owe every blessing I enjoy. ‘Tis true that Mercedes is not actually my wife. Mercedes looked pleased and gratified. to whom.” replied Dantes. restless and uneasy.” returned Dantes. “Well. “Thanks to the influence of M. nay!” cried Caderousse.” added he. Just assume the tone and manner of a husband. “How is that. while Fernand. “in an hour and a half she will be. “Do you fear any approaching evil? I should say that you were the happiest man alive at this instant. turning pale.

” answered Dantes.” This joke elicited a fresh burst of applause. Now. I have none to settle on her. which. with one day to discharge the commission intrusted to me.” answered Dantes. “it didn’t take long to fix that. that. a burning sensation passed across his brow. at the commencement of the repast. our papers were quickly written out.” cried the old man. To-morrow morning I start for Paris. no. laughingly. is all the time I shall be absent. however.” This prospect of fresh festivity redoubled the hilarity of the guests to such a degree. and on the second I give my real marriage feast. “how did you manage about the other formalities – the contract – the settlement?” “The contract. was lost amid the noisy felicitations of the company.” asked Danglars. and certainly do not come very expensive. “don’t imagine I am going to put you off in that shabby manner. Arrived here only yesterday morning. “you make short work of this kind of affair. had commented upon the silence that prevailed. as a quarter-past one has already struck. and the same to return. “So that what we presumed to be merely the betrothal feast turns out to be the actual wedding dinner!” said Danglars. and at half-past two o’clock the mayor of Marseilles will be waiting for us at the city hall. 50 . I shall be back here by the first of March. in another hour and thirty minutes Mercedes will have become Madame Dantes. “No.” Fernand closed his eyes. but in spite of all his efforts. you see. “Upon my word. now found it difficult.delay. that the elder Dantes. Mercedes has no fortune. So. who. he could not refrain from uttering a deep groan. four days to go. and married to-day at three o’clock! Commend me to a sailor for going the quick way to work!” “But. I do not consider I have asserted too much in saying. in a timid tone. and he was compelled to support himself by the table to prevent his falling from his chair.

as though seeking to avoid the hilarious mirth that rose in such deafening sounds. and. Caderousse approached him just as Danglars. As for Fernand himself. perceiving the affectionate eagerness of his father. and when I see him sitting there beside his pretty wife that is so soon to be. I cannot help thinking it would have been a great pity to have served him that trick you were planning yesterday. and sought out more agreeable companions. without waiting for a reply and each one seemed to be contented with expressing his or her own thoughts. Dantes. to pace the farther end of the salon. whom Fernand seemed most anxious to avoid. Dantes is a downright good fellow. Such as at the commencement of the repast had not been able to seat themselves according to their inclination rose unceremoniously. Around the table reigned that noisy hilarity which usually prevails at such a time among people sufficiently free from the demands of social position not to feel the trammels of etiquette. Everybody talked at once. unable to rest. while Mercedes glanced at the clock and made an expressive gesture to Edmond. but when I saw how completely he had mastered his feelings. united with the effect of the excellent wine he had partaken of. there was no harm meant. had joined him in a corner of the room. from whose mind the friendly treatment of Dantes. responded by a look of grateful pleasure. “Upon my word.” said Caderousse. he continued. had effaced every feeling of envy or jealousy at Dantes’ good fortune. – “upon my word. he was among the first to quit the table. to obtain a moment’s tranquillity in which to drink to the health and prosperity of the bride and bride-groom. in utter silence.” “Oh. “at first I certainly did feel somewhat uneasy as to what Fernand might be tempted to do.” answered Danglars. Fernand’s paleness appeared to have communicated itself to Danglars. even so far as to 51 . he seemed to be enduring the tortures of the damned.amid the general din of voices.

when the beauty of the bride is concerned. and a magistrate.” continued Danglars. Three blows were struck upon the panel of the door. so as to deaden even the noisy mirth of the bridal party. At the same instant his ear caught a sort of indistinct sound on the stairs. the door was opened. “I demand admittance. against a seat placed near one of the open windows. I only wish he would let me take his place. At this moment Danglars. that future captain of mine is a lucky dog! Gad. with the clanking of swords and military accoutrements.” said a loud voice outside the room.” “Shall we not set forth?” asked the sweet. then came a hum and buzz as of many voices.” “To be sure! – to be sure!” cried Dantes. and almost instantaneously the most deathlike stillness prevailed. “in the name of the law!” As no attempt was made to prevent it. Upon my soul. followed by four soldiers and a corporal. “the sacrifice was no trifling one. and you know we are expected in a quarter of an hour. silvery voice of Mercedes. with vociferous cheers. presented himself. saw him stagger and fall back. I knew there was no further cause for apprehension. Uneasiness now yielded to the most extreme dread on the part of those present. among whom a vague feeling of curiosity and apprehension quelled every disposition to talk. “Certainly.” Caderousse looked full at Fernand – he was ghastly pale. with an almost convulsive spasm. The company looked at each other in consternation. eagerly quitting the table. “two o’clock has just struck. “let us go directly!” His words were re-echoed by the whole party.become one of his rival’s attendants. followed by the measured tread of soldiery. 52 . wearing his official scarf. who had been incessantly observing every change in Fernand’s look and manner. The sounds drew nearer.

53 . or the value of his freight. nevertheless. “My worthy friend. advanced with dignity. “I arrest you in the name of the law!” “Me!” repeated Edmond. he kindly said.” replied the magistrate. whether touching the health of his crew. whom he evidently knew. There are situations which the heart of a father or a mother cannot be made to understand. of Danglars. what is your pleasure with me?” “Edmond Dantes. and it is more than probable he will be set at liberty directly he has given the information required. “and wherefore. however. who had assumed an air of utter surprise.” “What is the meaning of all this?” inquired Caderousse. it must. frowningly.“May I venture to inquire the reason of this unexpected visit?” said M. spite of the agitation he could not but feel. I am the bearer of an order of arrest. “rely upon every reparation being made. Morrel.” “If it be so. and perfectly well knew that it would be as unavailing to seek pity from a magistrate decked with his official scarf. addressing the magistrate. as to address a petition to some cold marble effigy. that even the officer was touched. meanwhile. and said.” replied the magistrate. although firm in his duty. and although I most reluctantly perform the task assigned me. and. sprang forward.” M. He prayed and supplicated in terms so moving. slightly changing color. I pray?” “I cannot inform you. “I am he. Old Dantes. be fulfilled. Who among the persons here assembled answers to the name of Edmond Dantes?” Every eye was turned towards the young man who. let me beg of you to calm your apprehensions. He saw before him an officer delegated to enforce the law. Your son has probably neglected some prescribed form or attention in registering his cargo. Morrel felt that further resistance or remonstrance was useless. in a firm voice. but you will be duly acquainted with the reasons that have rendered such a step necessary at the preliminary examination. “there is doubtless some mistake easily explained.

but he had disappeared.” said he. Dantes. besides.” “No. you fool! – what should you know about it? – why. as every prudent man ought to be. you know very well that I tore the paper to pieces. and cannot in the least make out what it is about. “So. you were drunk!” “Where is Fernand?” inquired Caderousse. “gone. that if it be so. that’s all.” Caderousse then looked around for Fernand. and well deserves to bring double evil on those who have projected it. “How do I know?” replied Danglars. is a part of the trick you were concerting yesterday? All I can say is.“How can I tell you?” replied he.” returned Danglars. “you merely threw it by – I saw it lying in a corner. The painful catastrophe he had just witnessed appeared effectually to have rent away the veil which the intoxication of the evening before had raised between himself and his memory. “Make yourselves quite easy.” “Nonsense. “I tell you again I have nothing whatever to do with it. ‘tis an ill turn. there is some little mistake to clear up. had surrendered himself to the officer sent to arrest him. like yourself. I suppose. and very likely I may not have to go so far as the prison to effect that. Never mind where he is. to Danglars. “this. to look after his own affairs. depend upon it. most likely.” 54 .” During this conversation. so. “I am. you did not!” answered Caderousse. utterly bewildered at all that is going on. The scene of the previous night now came back to his mind with startling clearness.” “Hold your tongue. merely saying. let you and I go and see what is to be done for our poor friends. my good fellows. then. after having exchanged a cheerful shake of the hand with all his sympathizing friends. in a hoarse and choking voice.

he got in. and hurry to Marseilles.” Dantes descended the staircase. stretching out her arms to him from the balcony. who had now approached the group. to be sure!” responded Danglars. and return as quickly as you can!” This second departure was followed by a long and fearful state of terrified silence on the part of those who were left behind. “Good-by. Morrel. 55 . followed by two soldiers and the magistrate. and this was. “Wait for me here. Mercedes – we shall soon meet again!” Then the vehicle disappeared round one of the turnings of Fort Saint Nicholas. preceded by the magistrate. “I will take the first conveyance I find. The prisoner heard the cry. all of you!” cried M.“Oh. by mere chance. went to sit down at the first vacant place. but at length the two poor victims of the same blow raised their eyes. “Adieu. and with a simultaneous burst of feeling rushed into each other’s arms. A carriage awaited him at the door. Meanwhile Fernand made his appearance. Instinctively Fernand drew back his chair. poured out for himself a glass of water with a trembling hand. and the vehicle drove off towards Marseilles. adieu. when released from the warm and affectionate embrace of old Dantes. placed next to the seat on which poor Mercedes had fallen half fainting. dearest Edmond!” cried Mercedes. each absorbed in grief. “nothing more than a mistake. whence I will bring you word how all is going on. and followed by the soldiers. which sounded like the sob of a broken heart. I feel quite certain. and leaning from the coach he called out.” “That’s right!” exclaimed a multitude of voices. then hastily swallowing it. “go. The old father and Mercedes remained for some time apart.

“He is the cause of all this misery – I am quite sure of it. as for that. turning towards him. I only hope the mischief will fall upon the head of whoever wrought it. and that she took in her freight at Alexandria from Pastret’s warehouse.” whispered Caderousse. “of this event?” “Why.” 56 .” said one of the party. when the arrow lights point downward on somebody’s head. Danglars. to Danglars. indeed. and I beg I may not be asked for any further particulars. I know she was loaded with cotton. “I don’t think so. I could only know what I was told respecting the merchandise with which the vessel was laden. Danglars.” “You can. he’s too stupid to imagine such a scheme. who had never taken his eyes off Fernand. since you are the ship’s supercargo?” “Why. “What think you.” said Caderousse.” answered Danglars.” answered the other. and at Smyrna from Pascal’s.” “You don’t mention those who aided and abetted the deed. that is all I was obliged to know. “I think it just possible Dantes may have been detected with some trifling article on board ship considered here as contraband. “one cannot be held responsible for every chance arrow shot into the air.” “But how could he have done so without your knowledge.” replied he. “Surely.” Meantime the subject of the arrest was being canvassed in every different form.

paid no heed to this explanation of her lover’s arrest. and discovered poor Dantes’ hidden treasures. Morrel. and a convulsive spasm passed over his countenance. however. we shall hear that our friend is released!” Mercedes and the old man rushed to meet the shipowner and greeted him at the door.” exclaimed Danglars.” “Oh.” said the old man. he is innocent!” sobbed forth Mercedes. now. He was very pale. “Now the mischief is out. now burst out in a violent fit of hysterical sobbing.” replied M. depend upon it the custom-house people went rummaging about the ship in our absence.” said the afflicted old father. “Here comes M.” Mercedes. Her grief. “the thing has assumed a more serious aspect than I expected. “Come. No doubt. my friends. and another of tobacco for me!” “There. “Hope!” faintly murmured Fernand. indeed – indeed. with a mournful shake of his head. “Alas. come. which she had hitherto tried to restrain. “That I believe!” answered M. Morrel. “be comforted. Morrel back. “but still he is charged” – 57 . my poor child. sir. “What news?” exclaimed a general burst of voices. but the word seemed to die away on his pale agitated lips.“Now I recollect. there is still hope!” “Hope!” repeated Danglars. “Good news! good news!” shouted forth one of the party stationed in the balcony on the lookout. “my poor boy told me yesterday he had got a small case of coffee. you see.

then. it is no use involving ourselves in a conspiracy. where he quitted it. but I cannot suffer a poor old man or an innocent girl to die of grief through your fault. “or I will not answer even for your own safety.” 58 . “With being an agent of the Bonapartist faction!” Many of our readers may be able to recollect how formidable such an accusation became in the period at which our story is dated. A despairing cry escaped the pale lips of Mercedes. Caderousse readily perceived the solidity of this mode of reasoning. and passed a whole day in the island.” “Be silent. and see what comes of it. if guilty. I am determined to tell them all about it. should any letters or other documents of a compromising character be found upon him. and then caution supplanted generosity. wistfully. “Let us wait. grasping him by the arm. If he be innocent. the old man sank into a chair. doubtfully. on Danglars. “To be sure!” answered Danglars.” “Let us go. by all means. Who can tell whether Dantes be innocent or guilty? The vessel did touch at Elba. Danglars!” whispered Caderousse. of course he will be set at liberty. you simpleton!” cried Danglars. he gazed. I cannot stay here any longer. “Ah. why. “Suppose we wait a while. casting a bewildered look on his companion.” said he. “you have deceived me – the trick you spoke of last night has been played. Now.“With what?” inquired the elder Dantes. will it not be taken for granted that all who uphold him are his accomplices?” With the rapid instinct of selfishness.

who served under the other government. while the friends of Dantes conducted the now half-fainting man back to his abode. Then added in a low whisper. you are strongly suspected of regretting the abdication of Napoleon. I am too well aware that though a subordinate. Morrel. and I had already thought of your interests in the event of poor Edmond having become captain of the Pharaon. de Villefort. on account of your uncle. my dear Danglars?” asked M.” “‘Tis well. “You are a worthy fellow. “Let us take ourselves out of the way. I should have feared to injure both Edmond and yourself. who had now again become the friend and protector of Mercedes. from M. “Could you have believed such a thing possible?” “Why. and leave things for the present to take their course.” 59 . is bound to acquaint the shipowner with everything that occurs. as. there are many things he ought most carefully to conceal from all else. “Could you ever have credited such a thing.“With all my heart!” replied Danglars. led the girl to her home.” replied Danglars. pleased to find the other so tractable. The rumor of Edmond’s arrest as a Bonapartist agent was not slow in circulating throughout the city.” After their departure. Danglars – ‘tis well!” replied M. the assistant procureur. M. “that I considered the circumstance of his having anchored at the Island of Elba as a very suspicious circumstance. you know I told you. on his return to the port for the purpose of gleaning fresh tidings of Dantes. Policar Morrel. Morrel. he overtook his supercargo and Caderousse. Fernand.” “And did you mention these suspicions to any person beside myself?” “Certainly not!” returned Danglars. had I divulged my own apprehensions to a soul. like myself. “You understand that. and who does not altogether conceal what he thinks on the subject.

“Poor Dantes!” said Caderousse. Morrel. and look carefully to 60 . Morrel. but that whoever possessed the good opinion and confidence of the ship’s owner would have his preference also.” “But meanwhile. “You know that I am as capable of managing a ship as the most experienced captain in the service.” “No doubt. I fully authorize you at once to assume the command of the Pharaon.” “Thanks. and it will be so far advantageous to you to accept my services. “since we cannot leave this port for the next three months.” answered Danglars. that upon Edmond’s release from prison no further change will be requisite on board the Pharaon than for Dantes and myself each to resume our respective posts. “here is the Pharaon without a captain. “No one can deny his being a noblehearted young fellow. I had previously inquired of Dantes what was his opinion of you.” “The hypocrite!” murmured Danglars. M. let us hope that ere the expiration of that period Dantes will be set at liberty. and if he should have any reluctance to continue you in your post.” “And what was his reply?” “That he certainly did think he had given you offence in an affair which he merely referred to without entering into particulars.“Is it possible you were so kind?” “Yes. indeed. Danglars – that will smooth over all difficulties. for somehow I have perceived a sort of coolness between you.” continued M. but in the meantime?” “I am entirely at your service.” “Oh.” replied Danglars.

the handwriting was disguised. let me ask? neither you nor myself. you knew very well that I threw the paper into a corner of the room – indeed. Private misfortunes must never be allowed to interfere with business.” “Be easy on that score. but. but yet it seems to me a shocking thing that a mere joke should lead to such consequences. he is a man like ourselves. whom I shall endeavor to interest in Edmond’s favor. he may have sent the letter itself! Fortunately. you did not. “that I can answer for.” replied Caderousse.” said Danglars. Morrel. but do you think we shall be permitted to see our poor Edmond?” “I will let you know that directly I have seen M. Morrel. “the turn things have taken. even. if you did.” So saying. and I fancy not a bad sort of one. M. but Fernand.” returned M. depend upon it. and either copied it or caused it to be copied. perhaps. and proceeded in the direction of the Palais de Justice. I am aware he is a furious royalist.” replied Danglars. and of his being king’s attorney.” “Well.” “But who perpetrated that joke. by Heavens. he did not take the trouble of recopying it. I will join you there ere long. Do you still feel any desire to stand up in his defence?” “Not the slightest. “but I hear that he is ambitious. de Villefort. no.” 61 . then. And now I think of it.the unloading of her freight. the worthy shipowner quitted the two allies.” “Well. addressing Caderousse. Fernand picked it up. “You see. I only wish I could see it now as plainly as I saw it lying all crushed and crumpled in a corner of the arbor. for me.” “Perhaps not. well. But now hasten on board. “we shall see. and that’s rather against him.” “Oh. in spite of that. I fancied I had destroyed it.

” added he with a smile. you know. at least. 62 . It seems.” said Danglars. and remain perfectly quiet. and bending his steps towards the Allees de Meillan.” “Amen!” responded Caderousse. As I before said. “I would give a great deal if nothing of the kind had happened. But. mentally.” “Still. “all has gone as I would have it. then. temporarily. he is in the hands of Justice. and muttering as he went. that I had had no hand in it. How can we be implicated in any way? All we have got to do is. or. to keep our own counsel.” argued Caderousse. moving his head to and fro. with the certainty of being permanently so. that I have unconsciously stumbled upon the truth. “So far.“Then you were aware of Dantes being engaged in a conspiracy?” “Not I. if that fool of a Caderousse can be persuaded to hold his tongue. is Fernand. You will see. it should fall on the guilty person. Morrel had agreed to meet him. he leaped into a boat.” So saying. however. desiring to be rowed on board the Pharaon. not breathing a word to any living soul. that it will turn out an unlucky job for both of us. “she will take her own. there. where M. I am. commander of the Pharaon. nothing more. and that. after the manner of one whose mind was overcharged with one absorbing idea. waving his hand in token of adieu to Danglars. and. My only fear is the chance of Dantes being released.” “Nonsense! If any harm come of it. I thought the whole thing was a joke. Danglars. and you will see that the storm will pass away without in the least affecting us.

but over the defeat of the Napoleonic idea. Instead of a rude mixture of sailors. – was looked upon here as a ruined man. the military part of the company talked unreservedly of Moscow and Leipsic. and fifteen of restoration elevate to the rank of a god. The magistrates freely discussed their political views. almost at the same hour with the nuptial repast given by Dantes. The emperor. soldiers. although the occasion of the entertainment was similar. a second marriage feast was being celebrated. and younger members of families. It was not over the downfall of the man. while the women commented on the divorce of Josephine.Chapter 6: The Deputy Procureur du Roi. brought up to hate and execrate the man whom five years of exile would convert into a martyr. officers who had deserted from the imperial army and joined forces with Conde. uttered in ten different languages. that they 63 . where unhappily. now king of the petty Island of Elba. and those belonging to the humblest grade of life. In one of the aristocratic mansions built by Puget in the Rue du Grand Cours opposite the Medusa fountain. – magistrates who had resigned their office during the usurper’s reign. separated forever from any fresh connection with France or claim to her throne. In this case. – after having been accustomed to hear the “Vive Napoleons” of a hundred and twenty millions of human beings. The guests were still at table. counting as his subjects a small population of five or six thousand souls. and the heated and energetic conversation that prevailed betrayed the violent and vindictive passions that then agitated each dweller of the South. for five centuries religious strife had long given increased bitterness to the violence of party feeling. the company was strikingly dissimilar. however. after having held sovereign sway over one-half of the world. the present assembly was composed of the very flower of Marseilles society.

An old man. excited universal enthusiasm. Villefort?” “I beg your pardon. “let the young people alone. and station was truly our ‘Louis the well-beloved. on the contrary. so as to prevent his listening to what you said. while they. would be compelled to own. let me tell you. were they here.” said a young and lovely girl. they could not help admitting that the king. who have driven us from those very possessions they afterwards purchased for a mere trifle during the Reign of Terror. But there – now take him – he is your own 64 .’ while their wretched usurper his been. and ever will be. wealth. with a profusion of light brown hair. In a word. though still noble and distinguished in appearance. recalling at once the patient exile of Hartwell and the peace-loving King of France.” “Never mind. made their fortune by worshipping the rising sun. strewed the table with their floral treasures. an almost poetical fervor prevailed. and in this they foresaw for themselves the bright and cheering prospect of a revivified political existence. but – in truth – I was not attending to the conversation. decorated with the cross of Saint Louis. now rose and proposed the health of King Louis XVIII. madame. forbidding eye.” “Marquise. yes. a woman with a stern. and the ladies. glasses were elevated in the air a l’Anglais. despite her fifty years – “ah. This toast. that all true devotion was on our side. dearest mother. these revolutionists. “Ah. on one’s wedding day there are more agreeable subjects of conversation than dry politics. It was the Marquis de SaintMeran. and eyes that seemed to float in liquid crystal.’ Am I not right. “‘tis all my fault for seizing upon M. for whom we sacrificed rank. de Villefort. their ‘Napoleon the accursed. yes. since we were content to follow the fortunes of a falling monarch. marquise!” interposed the old nobleman who had proposed the toast. snatching their bouquets from their fair bosoms. I really must pray you to excuse me.rejoiced. to them their evil genius.” said the Marquise de Saint-Meran.

in the year 1814. and is worshipped by his commonplace but ambitions followers. madame. but also as the personification of equality. however. were lucky days for France.” “They had. not only as a leader and lawgiver. What I was saying. there is always one bright smiling spot in the desert of her heart. The only difference consists in the opposite character of the equality advocated by these two men. “and that was fanaticism. Napoleon is the Mahomet of the West.for as long as you like. Napoleon has still 65 . and that the 9th Thermidor and the 4th of April. however all other feelings may be withered in a woman’s nature. “I forgive you. de Villefort. or devotion. M. has usurped quite enough. Villefort. the other is the equality that degrades. fallen. one brings a king within reach of the guillotine. Villefort. was. “Never mind. smiling. I would place each of these heroes on his right pedestal – that of Robespierre on his scaffold in the Place Louis Quinze. then. I beg to remind you my mother speaks to you. worthy of being gratefully remembered by every friend to monarchy and civil order.” replied the marquise. Renee. to my mind.” replied the young man.” “If the marquise will deign to repeat the words I but imperfectly caught. enthusiasm. with a look of tenderness that seemed out of keeping with her harsh dry features.” said Villefort. what supplied the place of those fine qualities. the other elevates the people to a level with the throne. that the Bonapartists had not our sincerity.” “Nay. one is the equality that elevates.” said M. what would you call Robespierre? Come. who.” “He!” cried the marquise: “Napoleon the type of equality! For mercy’s sake. Observe. but. do not strip the latter of his just rights to bestow them on the Corsican. as I trust he is forever. that of Napoleon on the column of the Place Vendome. “I do not mean to deny that both these men were revolutionary scoundrels. and that is the shrine of maternal love. come. I shall be delighted to answer. and that explains how it comes to pass that.

Villefort. What avails recrimination over matters wholly past recall? For my own part. and is called Noirtier. had his partisans and advocates.” “Do you know. also.” “Dear mother. Still. he was an equal sufferer with yourself during the Reign of Terror. and that while the Citizen Noirtier was a Girondin.” A deep crimson suffused the countenance of Villefort. and condescend only to regard the young shoot which has started up 66 . without wincing in the slightest degree at the tragic remembrance thus called up. marquise. the Count Noirtier became a senator. if you please. madame. He was – nay. your father lost no time in joining the new government. “but bear in mind. “to add my earnest request to Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran’s. am a stanch royalist.” interposed Renee. that you are talking in a most dreadfully revolutionary strain? But I excuse it. who was not half so bad as Napoleon. madame.” answered he. Let what may remain of revolutionary sap exhaust itself and die away with the old trunk. it is impossible to expect the son of a Girondin to be free from a small spice of the old leaven. that our respective parents underwent persecution and proscription from diametrically opposite principles. “that my father was a Girondin.” replied the marquise. “‘Tis true. in proof of which I may remark. and had well-nigh lost his head on the same scaffold on which your father perished. but he was not among the number of those who voted for the king’s death. “you know very well it was agreed that all these disagreeable reminiscences should forever be laid aside. and altogether disown his political principles. that while my family remained among the stanchest adherents of the exiled princes.retained a train of parasitical satellites. on the contrary.” “True. that you will kindly allow the veil of oblivion to cover and conceal the past. for instance. probably may still be – a Bonapartist. I have laid aside even the name of my father.” “Suffer me.” replied Villefort. I. it has been so with other usurpers – Cromwell. and style myself de Villefort.

that we have pledged ourselves to his majesty for your fealty and strict loyalty. and that at our recommendation the king consented to forget the past. Villefort. in the Island of Elba. Napoleon. and assassinations in the lower. I promise you it affords me as little pleasure to revive it as it does you. indeed. is too near France. and brought the offenders to merited punishment. to separate entirely from the stock from which it sprung. now.” “With all my heart. think so?” inquired the marquise. “I am. But we have not done with the thing yet.” “Bravo. I have already successfully conducted several public prosecutions. fearful of it. also. compels me to be severe. as it is known you belong to a suspected family. “my profession. that should there fall in your way any one guilty of conspiring against the government.” replied the marquise. Marseilles is filled with half-pay officers.” returned Villefort. getting up quarrels with the royalists. and his proximity keeps up the hopes of his partisans. without having the power. that Villefort will be firm and inflexible for the future in his political principles.” 67 . at least. But bear in mind.at a distance from the parent tree. as well as the times in which we live. “excellently well said! Come. a perfect amnesty and forgetfulness of the past.” “Alas. from hence arise continual and fatal duels among the higher classes of persons. “let the past be forever forgotten. All I ask is. as I do” (and here she extended to him her hand) – “as I now do at your entreaty. any more than the wish.” “Do you. Villefort!” cried the marquis. Remember. I have hopes of obtaining what I have been for years endeavoring to persuade the marquise to promise. madame. who are daily. you will be so much the more bound to visit the offence with rigorous punishment. under one frivolous pretext or other. namely.

de SaintMeran. well. we shall be rid of Napoleon. “and where is it decided to transfer him?” “To Saint Helena. and we cannot molest Napoleon without breaking those compacts.” “Unfortunately.” “Oh. perhaps. “it seems probable that. “There wasn’t any trouble over treaties when it was a question of shooting the poor Duc d’Enghien. “there are the treaties of 1814.” said M. and this can best be effected by employing the most inflexible agents to put down every attempt at conspiracy – ‘tis the best and surest means of preventing mischief. “So much the better. The king is either a king or no king. at least two thousand leagues from here.” “For heaven’s sake. one of M.” 68 . if he be acknowledged as sovereign of France. and we must trust to the vigilance of M.” said Villefort. de Saint-Meran’s oldest friends. As Villefort observes.” replied the count. it is a great act of folly to have left such a man between Corsica. “the strong arm of the law is not called upon to interfere until the evil has taken place. by the aid of the Holy Alliance.” said the marquise.” responded M. he should be upheld in peace and tranquillity.” said the Comte de Salvieux. the sovereignty of which he coveted for his son. madame.“You have heard.” “Unfortunately.” answered Villefort. “that the Holy Alliance purpose removing him from thence?” “Yes. de Salvieux. where he was born. where is that?” asked the marquise. of which his brother-in-law is king. “An island situated on the other side of the equator. de Villefort to purify Marseilles of his partisans.” “Well. they were talking about it when we left Paris. and Naples. and face to face with Italy. and chamberlain to the Comte d’Artois. we shall find some way out of it.

you behold in a law-court a case of real and genuine distress – a drama of life. however. becoming quite pale. and then retiring to rest. madame. instead of shedding tears as at the fictitious tale of woe produced at a theatre. The prisoner whom you there see pale. M. the case would only 69 .” replied the young man. instead of – as is the case when a curtain falls on a tragedy – going home to sup peacefully with his family.“Then all he has got to do is to endeavor to repair it. against the movers of political conspiracies.” “Oh. “you surely are not in earnest. and alarmed.” cried a beautiful young creature.” “Nay. be assured. de Villefort!” said Renee. – is removed from your sight merely to be reconducted to his prison and delivered up to the executioner. “inasmuch as.” replied the young magistrate with a smile. M. de Villefort. daughter to the Comte de Salvieux.” “For shame. I never was in a law-court. I leave you to judge how far your nerves are calculated to bear you through such a scene.” “Indeed I am.” “What would you have? ‘Tis like a duel. Of this. the law is frequently powerless to effect this. five or six times. and who can say how many daggers may be ready sharpened. de Villefort. I have already recorded sentence of death. “do try and get up some famous trial while we are at Marseilles. certainly.” said Renee. that he may recommence his mimic woes on the morrow. all it can do is to avenge the wrong done. M. and the cherished friend of Mademoiselle de SaintMeran. I am told it is so very amusing!” “Amusing. and only waiting a favorable opportunity to be buried in my heart?” “Gracious heavens. “and in the interesting trial that young lady is anxious to witness. agitated. “don’t you see how you are frightening us? – and yet you laugh. becoming more and more terrified. that should any favorable opportunity present itself. I will not fail to offer you the choice of being present.

to rush fearlessly on the very bayonets of his foe. No. merely because bidden to do so by one he is bound to obey? Besides. you have promised me – have you not? – always to show mercy to those I plead for. “that is what I call talking to some purpose. don’t you see. can you expect for an instant.” said a second. and such dreadful people as that. and as though beaten out of all composure by the fire of my eloquence.” “Oh. than to slaughter his fellow-creatures. “Bravo!” cried one of the guests. as though in mockery of my words. for. that one accustomed. for instance. “but. agitated. as is more than probable. the prisoner. at the word of his commander. my dear Villefort!” remarked a third.” interposed Renee. de Villefort. and he who shall plot or contrive aught against the life and safety of the parent of thirty-two millions of souls. Renee. but as regards poor unfortunate creatures whose only crime consists in having mixed themselves up in political intrigues” – “Why. the king is the father of his people. that is the very worst offence they could possibly commit. in order to lash one’s self into a state of sufficient vehemence and power. Upon my word. you killed him ere the executioner had laid his hand upon him. “What a splendid business that last case of yours was. one requires the excitement of being hateful in the eyes of the accused. will scruple more to drive a stiletto into the heart of one he knows to be his personal enemy.” 70 .” replied Renee. my pride is to see the accused pale. as for parricides.be still more aggravated. “I mean the trial of the man for murdering his father. “it matters very little what is done to them.” Renee uttered a smothered exclamation. to have served under Napoleon – well. I would not choose to see the man against whom I pleaded smile. is a parricide upon a fearfully great scale?” “I don’t know anything about that. Suppose. M.” “Just the person we require at a time like the present.

de Villefort may prove the moral and political physician of this province. Villefort looked carefully around to mark the effect of his oratory. “that M. at the present moment. as he gazed with unutterable tenderness on the lovely speaker. Nowadays the military profession is in abeyance and the magisterial robe is the badge of honor.” “My love.” Having made this well-turned speech.” “Cedant arma togae. possibly. decided preference and conviction. There is a wise Latin proverb that is very much in point. and embroidery. “I cannot speak Latin.” whispered Villefort.” cried the marquis. 71 . my child. “Well. for instance.” said the marquise. a firm and zealous friend to religion and order – a better royalist.” added the incorrigible marquise. while I have no other impulse than warm.” said Villefort with a bow. “Madame. “you and I will always consult upon our verdicts. he will have achieved a noble work. your lap-dogs. “Let us hope. I hope so – abjured his past errors. than his son.“Make yourself quite easy on that point. Do you know I always felt a shudder at the idea of even a destroying angel?” “Dear. “attend to your doves. with one of his sweetest smiles. for he has to atone for past dereliction. and that he is. “I have already had the honor to observe that my father has – at least. but do not meddle with what you do not understand. good Renee.” answered Villefort.” said Renee.” responded the marquise. “I cannot help regretting you had not chosen some other profession than your own – a physician.” replied Villefort. much as he would have done had he been addressing the bench in open court. if so.” “And one which will go far to efface the recollection of his father’s conduct. with a mournful smile.

had overheard our conversation. “I trust your wishes will not prosper.“Do you know. when he went six months ago to consult him upon the subject of your espousing his daughter. “I love to see you thus. Then the king. who will be sure to make a figure in his profession.’ said his majesty. and that Providence will only permit petty offenders. and I assure you he seemed fully to comprehend that this mode of reconciling political differences was based upon sound and excellent principles. then. my dear Villefort. placed considerable emphasis on that of Villefort – ‘Villefort. he would be most welcome. on the contrary. but. Now.” “For my part. interrupted us by saying. dear mother. “that is exactly what I myself said the other day at the Tuileries. had not the noble marquis anticipated my wishes by requesting my consent to it. he will confess that they perfectly agree with what his majesty said to him. “How much do I owe this gracious prince! What is there I would not do to evince my earnest gratitude!” “That is right. poor 72 .” answered the marquis.” interposed Renee. and if the marquis chooses to be candid.” cried the marquise. I should myself have recommended the match. ‘Villefort’ – observe that the king did not pronounce the word Noirtier. when questioned by his majesty’s principal chamberlain touching the singularity of an alliance between the son of a Girondin and the daughter of an officer of the Duc de Conde.” cried the Comte de Salvieux. without our suspecting it. I like him much. who.’“ “Is it possible the king could have condescended so far as to express himself so favorably of me?” asked the enraptured Villefort.” “That is true. were a conspirator to fall into your hands. and it gave me great pleasure to hear that he was about to become the son-in-law of the Marquis and Marquise de Saint-Meran. ‘is a young man of great judgment and discretion. “I give you his very words.

he soon. however. not even that of my betrothal.” At this moment. de Villefort’s hands. “For a very serious matter.” “Just the same as though you prayed that a physician might only be called upon to prescribe for headaches.debtors. and miserable cheats to fall into M. seemed formed to excite the innocent admiration with which she gazed on her graceful and intelligent lover. measles. 73 .” “How dreadful!” exclaimed Renee. and certainly his handsome features. or any other slight affection of the epidermis. Well. “Is it possible?” burst simultaneously from all who were near enough to the magistrate to hear his words. which bids fair to make work for the executioner. I at least resemble the disciples of Esculapius in one thing – that of not being able to call a day my own. his whole face beaming with delight. addressing her. returned. Renee regarded him with fond affection.” said Villefort. and the stings of wasps. you must desire for me some of those violent and dangerous diseases from the cure of which so much honor redounds to the physician. lit up as they then were with more than usual fire and animation. “You were wishing just now. a servant entered the room. Villefort immediately rose from table and quitted the room upon the plea of urgent business.” “And wherefore were you called away just now?” asked Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. and as though the utterance of Villefort’s wish had sufficed to effect its accomplishment. and whispered a few words in his ear. turning pale. – then I shall be contented. If you wish to see me the king’s attorney. “that I were a doctor instead of a lawyer. with an air of deep interest.

“and rely upon it.” “He is in safe custody. that one named Edmond Dantes. by his orders.” 74 . mate of the ship Pharaon. say the accused person. “this letter. his secretary. he sent for me. opened his letters.” said Renee. a sort of Bonaparte conspiracy has just been discovered. has been the bearer of a letter from Murat to the usurper. or has it at his father’s abode.” answered Villefort. after all. Should it not be found in the possession of father or son. if the letter is found. unless he goes forth under the especial protection of the headsman. but to the king’s attorney. thinking this one of importance. this day arrived from Smyrna.” “True. then it will assuredly be discovered in the cabin belonging to the said Dantes on board the Pharaon. You know we cannot yet pronounce him guilty. after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo. at least. but that gentleman being absent. Ample corroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting the above-mentioned Edmond Dantes. “I will read you the letter containing the accusation.“Why. he will not be likely to be trusted abroad again.’“ “But.” said Villefort: – “‘The king’s attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and the religions institutions of his country.” “Can I believe my ears?” cried the marquise. who either carries the letter for Paris about with him. is not even addressed to you. if my information prove correct. “Nay. which. dear mother. is but an anonymous scrawl. and again taken charge of another letter from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris. took upon himself to give the necessary orders for arresting the accused party.” “Then the guilty person is absolutely in custody?” said the marquise. but not finding me.

I should be glad to know what connection there can possibly be between your sickly sentimentality and the affairs of the state!” “O mother!” murmured Renee. while imprinting a son-in-law’s respectful salute on it. Madame de Saint-Meran extended her dry bony hand to Villefort. Villefort. 75 . child!” exclaimed the angry marquise. “be merciful on this the day of our betrothal.” “O Villefort!” cried Renee. “He is at my house. You are the king’s servant. “I must try and fancy ‘tis your dear hand I kiss.” sighed poor Renee. and looking towards her lover with piteous earnestness. you really must give me leave to order his head to be cut off. clasping her hands. as it should have been.” “Come. but if the charges brought against this Bonapartist hero prove correct. – “To give you pleasure. and leaning over her chair said tenderly.” said the marquise. as much as to say. looked at Renee. my friend.” interrupted the marquise. “Upon my word.” “These are mournful auspices to accompany a betrothal.” So saying. “Never mind that foolish girl. “do not neglect your duty to linger with us.” The young man passed round to the side of the table where the fair pleader sat. why. my sweet Renee.“And where is the unfortunate being?” asked Renee. come. “She will soon get over these things. “your folly exceeds all bounds. I promise to show all the lenity in my power. and must go wherever that service calls you. then.” Renee shuddered. who.

“Fear not. which seemed to say. for your dear sake my justice shall be tempered with mercy.” then casting an expressive glance at his betrothed. madame. Villefort quitted the room.“Nay. I will be most inflexibly severe. 76 . I pray you pardon this little traitor. I promise you that to make up for her want of loyalty.” and receiving a sweet and approving smile in return.

like a finished actor. he composed his face. whom he loved. Already rich. and he had. trading in cotton with Alexandria and Smyrna. and belonging to Morrel & Son. and you have acted rightly in arresting this man. which were very great. but reasonably. now inform me what you have discovered concerning him and the conspiracy. and said.Chapter 7: The Examination. with his own career. At the door he met the commissary of police. Except the recollection of the line of politics his father had adopted. it was by no means easy for him to assume an air of judicial severity. mate on board the three-master the Pharaon. which they would. The dowry of his wife amounted to fifty thousand crowns. of Marseilles. all the papers found have been sealed up and placed on your desk. Now. though only twenty-seven. who was waiting for him. The prisoner himself is named Edmond Dantes. Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran’s family possessed considerable political influence. not passionately. and besides her personal attractions. sir. he had carefully studied before the glass.” “We know nothing as yet of the conspiracy. These considerations naturally gave Villefort a feeling of such complete felicity that his mind was fairly dazzled in its contemplation. monsieur. as we have before described. and which might interfere. The sight of this officer recalled Villefort from the third heaven to earth. exert in his favor. “I have read the letter. of course. the command of which. unless he acted with the greatest prudence. than he assumed the grave air of a man who holds the balance of life and death in his hands. as became a deputy attorney of the king.” 77 . He was about to marry a young and charming woman. besides. Gerard de Villefort was as happy as a man could be. he held a high official situation. in spite of the mobility of his countenance. No sooner had Villefort left the salon. the prospect of seeing her fortune increased to half a million at her father’s death.

Some of your people have committed the strangest mistake – they have just arrested Edmond Dantes. as if he wished to apply them to the owner himself. approached. and yet be. – “You are aware. he is very young. mate of my vessel. it was M.” cried he. “and I am now going to examine him. and replied. the first was a royalist.” “Oh. a man. belonged to the aristocratic party at Marseilles. “you do not know him. and I do. interceding for another.” Villefort. Villefort looked disdainfully at Morrel. monsieur. Is it not true?” The magistrate laid emphasis on these words. there is not a better seaman in all the merchant service. carried away by his friendship. Oh. as we have seen. 78 . the most trustworthy creature in the world. monsieur.” “How old?” “Nineteen or twenty at the most. while his eyes seemed to plunge into the heart of one who. monsieur. M. “Ah.” “I know it. Morrel. and the best seaman in the merchant service. He is the most estimable. and as Villefort had arrived at the corner of the Rue des Conseils.“Before he entered the merchant service. de Villefort. and I will venture to say. who seemed to have been waiting for him. Morrel to the plebeian. I beseech your indulgence for him. no. that a man may be estimable and trustworthy in private life. had he ever served in the marines?” “Oh. had himself need of indulgence. de Villefort.” said Morrel.” At this moment. politically speaking. M. a great criminal.” replied Villefort. “I am delighted to see you. the other suspected of Bonapartism.

He replied. looked round for a seat. what Dantes had told him of his interview with the grandmarshal. be guilty. but calm and collected. who stood. cast a side glance at Dantes. after having. and saluting his judge with easy politeness. it had served to give him an idea of the man he was about to interrogate. de Villefort. and taking a packet which a gendarme offered him. An instant after Dantes entered. that his protector thus employs the collective form? He was. “Bring in the prisoner. courage in the dark eye and bent brow. composed his features. and that if he be innocent you shall not have appealed to me in vain. which adjoined the Palais de Justice. and what the emperor had said to him. he entered. for his own conscience was not quite clear on politics. besides. in company with a great many others. therefore.Morrel reddened. disappeared. as if he 79 . Villefort traversed the ante-chamber. however. “Monsieur. in this present epoch. the feelings of compassion that were rising. and frankness in the thick lips that showed a set of pearly teeth. be. “is Dantes then a member of some Carbonari society. that he applied the maxim to the impression. on the spot where Villefort had left him. He was pale.” Rapid as had been Villefort’s glance. stood the prisoner. as you always are. embarrassed him. Villefort’s first impression was favorable. but he had been so often warned to mistrust first impulses. in the midst of whom. He had recognized intelligence in the high forehead. and I must do my duty. if I recollect. forgetting the difference between the two words. carefully watched. should he. but calm and smiling. coldly saluted the shipowner. arrested in a tavern. however. impunity would furnish a dangerous example. M. saying. at his desk. He stifled. and give him back to us soon. The ante-chamber was full of police agents and gendarmes. “Ah. grim and sombre. as if petrified. – “I entreat you. you may rest assured I shall perform my duty impartially. kind and equitable. and sat down.” murmured he.” Then he added. ah.” As he had now arrived at the door of his own house.” This give us sounded revolutionary in the deputy’s ears.

“I am mate of the Pharaon.” “Your age?” continued Villefort.” and he arranged mentally. thanks to the corrupt espionage of which “the accused” is always made the victim.had been in M. de Saint-Meran’s. – that look peculiar to the magistrate. already. I am on the point of marrying a young girl I have been attached to for three years. “This philosophic reflection. and he was summoned from his own happiness to destroy that of another. so great was the contrast between that happy moment and the painful ceremony he was now undergoing. “will make a great sensation at M. monsieur. was struck with this coincidence. in an hour’s time. Morrel’s salon. “Yes. “My name is Edmond Dantes. containing information relative to the prisoner. shuddering in spite of himself. impassive as he was.” Villefort. de Villefort and the radiant face of Mercedes. surprised in the midst of his happiness. belonging to Messrs. his voice slightly tremulous. “Who and what are you?” demanded Villefort. that a police agent had given to him on his entry.” said the young man.” thought he. and the tremulous voice of Dantes. “You were at the festival of your marriage?” said the deputy. It was then that he encountered for the first time Villefort’s look. betrays nothing of his own. monsieur. who. while seeming to read the thoughts of others. while Dantes awaited further questions. and that. “What were you doing at the moment you were arrested?” “I was at the festival of my marriage. struck a sympathetic chord in his own bosom – he also was on the point of being married. turning over a pile of papers. the antithesis 80 .” replied the young man calmly. Morrel & Son. had swelled to voluminous proportions. “Nineteen.” returned Dantes. so great was the contrast between the sombre aspect of M.

– I love my father. every word the young man uttered convinced him more and more of his innocence. Morrel. without knowing who the culprit was. is all I can tell you. When this speech was arranged. – simple. Thus all my opinions – I will not say public. This lad.” “It is reported your political opinions are extreme. but private – are confined to these three sentiment. I am hardly nineteen. Villefort turned to Dantes. and you see how uninteresting it is. I have no part to play. “What would you have me say?” “Give all the information in your power. sir.” As Dantes spoke. sir. “Alas. I know nothing. If I obtain the situation I desire. “I warn you I know very little. and I will tell all I know. I never had any opinions. Dantes seemed full of kindness.by which orators often create a reputation for eloquence. Morrel. This. natural. had besought his indulgence for him. only.” “Have you served under the usurper?” “I was about to be mustered into the Royal Marines when he fell. Villefort gazed at his ingenuous and open countenance. and because happiness renders even the wicked good – extended his affection even to his judge. with a smile. With the deputy’s knowledge of crime and criminals. I respect M. “Go on. “My political opinions!” replied Dantes.” “Tell me on which point you desire information. full of affection for everybody. spite of Villefort’s severe look and stern accent. sir. eloquent with that eloquence of the heart never found when sought for. because he was happy.” said Villefort. as if it were an accusation. 81 .” said he. I shall owe it to M. who. and I adore Mercedes. for he was scarcely a man. and recollected the words of Renee.” added he. who had never heard anything of the kind. but was not sorry to make this inquiry.

” “But you may have excited jealousy.” Full of this idea. I hope I shall gain Renee’s favor easily by obeying the first command she ever imposed on me. for I am too young.” “You are right. and yet it is tolerably plain. but as an elder brother. I do not know the writing. and these two pieces of good fortune may have excited the envy of some one. Villefort drew the letter from his pocket. you are about to marry a pretty girl. because then I should be forced to hate them. You seem a worthy young man. not as a father.” “You are wrong. that you know. and what you say may possibly be the case. I will depart from the strict line of my duty to aid you in discovering the author of this accusation. A cloud passed over his brow as he said. they will tell you that they love and respect me. and if you question them. do you know the writing?” As he spoke. Dantes read it. but I have striven to repress it. for this envious person is a real enemy.” And by the rapid glance that the young 82 . and presented it to Dantes. “my position is not sufficiently elevated for that. was smiling also. that when he turned to Dantes. As for my disposition. perhaps. but if such persons are among my acquaintances I prefer not to know it. who loves you.” said Villefort. and a sweet kiss in private. You are about to become captain at nineteen – an elevated post.” added he. looking gratefully at Villefort. I am very fortunate. that is. somewhat too hasty. Whoever did it writes well.” “I have enemies?” replied Dantes. the latter. who had watched the change on his physiognomy. I have had ten or twelve sailors under me. “have you any enemies.” said Villefort. at least. “he is a noble fellow. I confess. Villefort’s face became so joyous. I shall have at least a pressure of the hand in public. you know men better than I do. you should always strive to see clearly around you. Here is the paper.“Pardieu. “to be examined by such a man as you. – “No. monsieur. “Sir.

“answer me frankly. “Now. but as one man to another who takes an interest in him. “None at all. as after my death the command devolves on you as mate. I swear by my honor as a sailor. but perhaps I shall not be admitted to the grand marshal’s presence as easily as you expect?’ 83 . I will tell you the real facts.” said the deputy. As we had no doctor on board. that at the end of the third day. captain.” “Well. assume the command. and he was so anxious to arrive at Elba. when we quitted Naples. disembark at PortoFerrajo. ‘swear to perform what I am going to tell you. ‘My dear Dantes. what truth is there in the accusation contained in this anonymous letter?” And Villefort threw disdainfully on his desk the letter Dantes had just given back to him.’ said he. I hope she would be satisfied. and bear up for the Island of Elba.’ “‘I will do it. and would no longer call me a decapitator. You will accomplish what I was to have done. by my love for Mercedes. Captain Leclere was attacked with a brain fever.” said Villefort.man’s eyes shot forth. “If Renee could see me. he called me to him. monsieur.’ replied I. feeling he was dying. and derive all the honor and profit from it. internally.’ “‘I swear. by the life of my father” – “Speak. that he would not touch at any other port. not as a prisoner to a judge. ask for the grand-marshal. his disorder rose to such a height. give him this letter – perhaps they will give you another letter. for it is a matter of the deepest importance. and charge you with a commission. captain. Villefort saw how much energy lay hid beneath this mildness. “‘Well. Then.

and what every one would have done in my place. had I not been arrested on this charge which you as well as I now see to be unjust. as the latter had told me. and go and rejoin your friends. but with a sailor the last requests of his superior are commands.” 84 . it was imprudence. Give up this letter you have brought from Elba. and remove every difficulty. “Yes.” “You have it already. “I am free. He questioned me concerning Captain Leclere’s death. I landed here.” “Ah. and this imprudence was in obedience to the orders of your captain. As I had expected. and to-morrow I intended to start for Paris.” “And what did you do then?” “What I ought to have done. at my marriage-feast. It was time – two hours after he was delirious. all the forms were got over. If you have been culpable. regulated the affairs of the vessel. for it was taken from me with some others which I see in that packet. Morrel. and was instantly admitted. as I told you. where I arrived the next day. the next day he died. Everywhere the last requests of a dying man are sacred. and I should have been married in an hour. then. but first give me this letter. gave me a letter to carry on to a person in Paris. in a word I was. but I sent the ring I had received from the captain to him. sir?” cried Dantes joyfully. I found some difficulty in obtaining access to the grand-marshal. and.” said Villefort. I undertook it because it was what my captain had bade me do. whom I found more lovely than ever. and pass your word you will appear should you be required.’ said the captain. “this seems to me the truth. Thanks to M. and hastened to visit my affianced bride. I ordered everybody to remain on board. I sailed for the Island of Elba. and went on shore alone. At these words he gave me a ring.“‘Here is a ring that will obtain audience of him.

“I was forced to read the address to know to whom to give it. his white lips and clinched teeth filled 85 .” “Have you shown this letter to any one?” asked Villefort.” “And that was too much. “To no one. except the person who gave it to me. who after believing himself free. growing still paler. Villefort’s brow darkened more and more. already told you. “a faithful servant of the king does not know conspirators. Noirtier?” “Everybody. on my honor. No. and hastily turning over the packet. “To whom is it addressed?” “To Monsieur Noirtier. “do you know him?” “No.” “Yes. but you knew the name of the person to whom it was addressed. at which he glanced with an expression of terror.” murmured Villefort.” said the deputy. “Yes. and addressed to M. I was entirely ignorant of the contents of the letter.” murmured he.” “It is a conspiracy.” “Everybody is ignorant that you are the bearer of a letter from the Island of Elba.” replied Villefort. Rue Coq-Heron. Paris. Villefort could not have been more stupefied. Rue Coq-Heron. “I have. He sank into his seat. sir.” Had a thunderbolt fallen into the room. then?” asked Dantes. drew forth the fatal letter. however. now began to feel a tenfold alarm. becoming still more pale.“Stop a moment.” said Villefort. “M.” said Dantes. as Dantes took his hat and gloves. 13. Noirtier. far too much.

” said Dantes timidly. before doing so. and. “if you doubt me.” replied Dantes proudly. “and that Noirtier is the father of Villefort. I am lost!” And he fixed his eyes upon Edmond as if he would have penetrated his thoughts. Attend to yourself. to restore you immediately to liberty. Villefort fell back on his chair. Villefort covered his face with his hands. “I am no longer able. – “Sir.” Dantes waited. and in a tone he strove to render firm. “In heaven’s name!” cried the unhappy young man.Dantes with apprehension. After reading the letter. it was a temporary indisposition.” said Villefort. I will answer you. but in vain. “but what is the matter? You are ill – shall I ring for assistance? – shall I call?” “No. passed his hand over his brow.” said Dantes. “it was only to summon assistance for you. moist with perspiration. It is for me to give orders here. sir.” “I want none. but raised his head at the expiration of a few seconds. answer me. question me. “Oh. as I had hoped. if he knows the contents of this!” murmured he. and not you. “Oh.” 86 .” “Monsieur. “Oh. expecting a question. for the third time. rising hastily. read the letter.” cried he. and again perused the letter. suddenly. “stay where you are.” Villefort made a violent effort. it is impossible to doubt it. “what is the matter?” Villefort made no answer. what my own feeling is you already know. I must consult the trial justice. “And you say that you are ignorant of the contents of this letter?” “I give you my word of honor.” said he.

should you.” “Speak. I destroy it?” “Oh.“Oh.” exclaimed Dantes.” “Be satisfied. “you are goodness itself. I must detain you some time longer. glancing toward the grate. “You see. therefore. “You see.” “It was the only letter you had?” 87 . and the prisoner who reassured him. where fragments of burnt paper fluttered in the flames. deny all knowledge of it – deny it boldly.” “I shall detain you until this evening in the Palais de Justice. I will deny it. but I will strive to make it as short as possible.” “Oh. but do not breathe a word of this letter. Should any one else interrogate you. and waited until it was entirely consumed.” “Listen.” “Listen. “you have been rather a friend than a judge. monsieur. you and I alone know of its existence. cast it in.” “I promise.” continued he. command. say to him what you have said to me. and I will obey. this is not a command. but advice I give you.” cried Dantes. The principal charge against you is this letter.” continued Villefort. “the letter is destroyed. and I will follow your advice. be questioned.” It was Villefort who seemed to entreat. and you see” – Villefort approached the fire.” “Well. and you are saved. “you can now have confidence in me after what I have done.

“It was. Villefort whispered some words in his ear.” said he. “This will do.” Villefort rang. 88 .” murmured he. Dantes saluted Villefort and retired. Oh.” “Swear it. alas. to which the officer replied by a motion of his head.” said Villefort to Dantes.” “I swear it. “Alas. a smile played round his set mouth. I will make my fortune. “Follow him. and his haggard eyes were fixed in thought. A police agent entered.” And after having assured himself that the prisoner was gone. Hardly had the door closed when Villefort threw himself halffainting into a chair. which might have ruined me. the deputy procureur hastened to the house of his betrothed. must your past career always interfere with my successes?” Suddenly a light passed over his face. “if the procureur himself had been at Marseilles I should have been ruined. my father. “and from this letter. Now to the work I have in hand. This accursed letter would have destroyed all my hopes.

The door opened.” replied a gendarme. made a sign to two gendarmes. the massy oaken door flew open. the two gendarmes gently pushed him forward. – he was in prison. a key turned in the lock. and Dantes sank again into his seat. who placed themselves one on Dantes’ right and the other on his left. It was four o’clock when Dantes was placed in this chamber. He had advanced at first. At last. besides. whose appearance might have made even the boldest shudder. but stopped at the sight of this display of force. and just as Dantes began to despair. He was conducted to a tolerably neat chamber. It was. the words of Villefort. 89 . After numberless windings. The air he inhaled was no longer pure. “Yes. resounded still in his ears like a promise of freedom. The obscurity augmented the acuteness of his hearing. did not greatly alarm him. as he traversed the ante-chamber. A door that communicated with the Palais de Justice was opened. the 1st of March. The Palais de Justice communicated with the prison. therefore. who seemed to interest himself so much. that from its grated windows looks on the clock-tower of the Accoules. about ten o’clock. steps were heard in the corridor. convinced they were about to liberate him. and its appearance. – a sombre edifice. but thick and mephitic. and they went through a long range of gloomy corridors.Chapter 8: The Chateau D’If. “Are you come to fetch me?” asked he. and a flood of light from two torches pervaded the apartment. but the sound died away. and the door closed with a loud sound behind him. the bolts creaked. By the torchlight Dantes saw the glittering sabres and carbines of four gendarmes. at the slightest sound he rose and hastened to the door. Dantes saw a door with an iron wicket. The commissary of police. as we have said. and the prisoner was soon buried in darkness. The commissary took up an iron mallet and knocked thrice. but grated and barred. every blow seeming to Dantes as if struck on his heart.

and was in an instant seated inside between two gendarmes. he mounted the steps.” The conviction that they came from M. without speaking a word. 90 . he advanced calmly. but feeling himself urged forward. “Can all this force be summoned on my account?” thought he. The two gendarmes who were opposite to him descended first. de Villefort relieved all Dantes’ apprehensions. the coachman was on the box. Soon he saw the lights of La Consigne. and having neither the power nor the intention to resist. then he was ordered to alight and the gendarmes on each side of him followed his example. he had changed his prison for another that was conveying him he knew not whither.” replied a gendarme. for he saw between the ranks of the soldiers a passage formed from the carriage to the port. The prisoner glanced at the windows – they were grated. to the port. the officer descended. Dantes saw the reflection of their muskets by the light of the lamps on the quay.“By the orders of the deputy procureur?” “I believe so. which was locked. and placed himself in the centre of the escort. “Is this carriage for me?” said Dantes. answered Dantes’ question. however. A carriage waited at the door. and by the Rue Saint-Laurent and the Rue Taramis. approached the guardhouse. They advanced towards a boat. and. near the quay. “It is for you. The officer opened the door. Through the grating. which a custom-house officer held by a chain. a dozen soldiers came out and formed themselves in order. the two others took their places opposite. Dantes was about to speak. The carriage stopped. and the carriage rolled heavily over the stones. Dantes saw they were passing through the Rue Caisserie. and a police officer sat beside him.

where he had that morning been so happy. The boat continued her voyage. In an instant he was placed in the stern-sheets of the boat. told him that provided he did not pronounce the dreaded name of Noirtier. The prisoner’s first feeling was of joy at again breathing the pure air – for air is freedom. and prayed fervently. and now through the open windows came the laughter and revelry of a ball. between the gendarmes. This manoeuvre was incomprehensible to Dantes. the chain that closes the mouth of the port was lowered and in a second they were. were now off the Anse du Pharo. “You will soon know. perhaps. and about to double the battery. Besides. and four sturdy oarsmen impelled it rapidly towards the Pilon. who were forbidden to reply. raised his eyes to heaven. nor had they made any attempt to handcuff him.The soldiers looked at Dantes with an air of stupid curiosity. trained in discipline. he thought. knew that nothing would be more absurd than to question subordinates. a shove sent the boat adrift. they were going to leave him on some distant point. had not the deputy. but he soon sighed.” “But still” – “We are forbidden to give you any explanation. He was not bound. this seemed a good augury. while the officer stationed himself at the bow. there was no vessel at anchor outside the harbor. in the Frioul and outside the inner harbor. and so he remained silent.” Dantes. At a shout from the boat. The boat they were in could not make a long voyage. for he passed before La Reserve. who had been so kind to him. The most vague and wild thoughts passed through his mind. he had nothing to apprehend? Had not 91 . Dantes folded his hands. as Dantes knew. “Whither are you taking me?” asked he. They had passed the Tete de Morte.

It seemed to the prisoner that he could distinguish a feminine form on the beach.” said he. But pride restrained him and he did not utter it. as a Christian and a soldier. the boat was now moving with the wind. a loyal Frenchman. where the lighthouse stood. and Dantes saw that it came from Mercedes’ chamber. but the prisoner thought only of Mercedes. Dantes turned to the nearest gendarme. on the right. and I promise you on my honor I will submit to my fate. his eyes fixed upon the light. Mercedes was the only one awake in the whole settlement.Villefort in his presence destroyed the fatal letter. What would his guards think if they heard him shout like a madman? He remained silent. I am Captain Dantes. A loud cry could be heard by her. “I see no great harm in telling him now. In spite of his repugnance to address the guards. and taking his hand. They had left the Ile Ratonneau. While he had been absorbed in thought. who returned for answer a sign that said. – “Comrade. – 92 . the only proof against him? He waited silently. Dantes turned and perceived that they had got out to sea. for it was there Mercedes dwelt. “I adjure you. and were now opposite the Point des Catalans. to tell me where we are going. How was it that a presentiment did not warn Mercedes that her lover was within three hundred yards of her? One light alone was visible.” and the gendarme replied.” The gendarme looked irresolutely at his companion. thought accused of treason. the boat went on. striving to pierce through the darkness. tell me where you are conducting me. they had shipped their oars and hoisted sail. An intervening elevation of land hid the light.

” “Have you no idea whatever?” “None at all. This gloomy fortress. you must know. Tell me. I entreat. even if I intended. I have committed no crime. I have no idea. or an hour.” “I swear to you it is true.” said Dantes. Are there any magistrates or judges at the Chateau d’If?” 93 . and yet you do not know where you are going?” “On my honor. or have never been outside the harbor.” “But my orders. which has for more than three hundred years furnished food for so many wild legends.” “That is impossible. when he saw rise within a hundred yards of him the black and frowning rock on which stands the Chateau d’If. “The Chateau d’If?” cried he. “what are we going there for?” The gendarme smiled.“You are a native of Marseilles.” “Your orders do not forbid your telling me what I must know in ten minutes.” “I do not. seemed to Dantes like a scaffold to a malefactor.” Dantes rose and looked forward. “I am not going there to be imprisoned. in half an hour. You see I cannot escape. and a sailor.” “Look round you then. “it is only used for political prisoners.” “Unless you are blind.

“that I am taken to the Chateau d’If to be imprisoned there?” “It is probable. Dantes sprang forward to precipitate himself into the sea. the inquiry is already made. come. which the gendarme’s practiced eye had perceived. For a moment the idea of struggling crossed his mind. in spite of M. de Villefort promised you. de Villefort’s promise. placing his knee on his chest. but I will not disobey the second. I have disobeyed my first order. help!” By a rapid movement. I will blow your brains out. “but I know we are taking you to the Chateau d’If. and if you move. turnkeys. but four vigorous arms seized him as his feet quitted the bottom of the boat. and. death in a boat from the hand of a gendarme seemed too terrible. 94 . do not look so astonished. “You think. Come. then.” said he. besides. or you will make me think you are laughing at me in return for my good nature.” “Without any inquiry. But he bethought him of M. and good thick walls.” And he levelled his carbine at Dantes.“There are only. de Villefort’s promises?” “I do not know what M.” Dantes pressed the gendarme’s hand as though he would crush it. without any formality?” “All the formalities have been gone through.” said the gendarme. “Good!” said the gendarme. He remained motionless. my friend. but gnashing his teeth and wringing his hands with fury. “a governor. a garrison. but there is no occasion to squeeze so hard. comrades.” said the gendarme. He fell back cursing with rage. and of so ending the unexpected evil that had overtaken him. “believe softspoken gentlemen again! Harkye. who felt the muzzle against his temple.” “And so. But what are you doing? Help.

thrusting Dantes forward.” “Go!” said the gendarmes. I will take him to his cell. taking him by the arms and coat-collar. and 95 .” replied the gendarmes. but all this indistinctly as through a mist. His guards. during which he strove to collect his thoughts. He looked around. that terrible barrier against freedom. he was conscious that he passed through a door. and that they were mooring the boat. “Where is the prisoner?” said a voice. and that the door closed behind him. Dantes made no resistance. and dragged him towards the steps that lead to the gate of the fortress. The prisoner followed his guide. a cord creaked as it ran through a pulley. They waited upwards of ten minutes. Certain Dantes could not escape. a lamp placed on a stool illumined the apartment faintly. He did not even see the ocean. and Dantes guessed they were at the end of the voyage. who led him into a room almost under ground. the gendarmes released him. he heard the measured tread of sentinels. “Here. which the prisoners look upon with utter despair. They halted for a minute. One of the sailors leaped on shore. whose bare and reeking walls seemed as though impregnated with tears. They seemed awaiting orders. forced him to rise. he was like a man in a dream: he saw soldiers drawn up on the embankment. he knew vaguely that he was ascending a flight of steps. The orders came. he was in a court surrounded by high walls.At this moment the boat came to a landing with a violent shock. while the police officer carrying a musket with fixed bayonet followed behind. and as they passed before the light he saw the barrels of their muskets shine. “Let him follow me.

and fresh straw. “I do not know.” said he. water. “It is late. Dantes appeared not to perceive him. he 96 . taking with him the lamp and closing the door. with orders to leave Dantes where he was.” replied Dantes. leaving stamped upon the prisoner’s mind the dim reflection of the dripping walls of his dungeon. but the door closed. and that is all a prisoner can wish for. To-morrow. his eyes swollen with weeping. With the first dawn of day the jailer returned. an under-jailer. Goodnight. Dantes followed him with his eyes. The jailer stared.” And before Dantes could open his mouth – before he had noticed where the jailer placed his bread or the water – before he had glanced towards the corner where the straw was. All his emotion then burst forth. ill-clothed. In the meantime there is bread. and the governor is asleep. he may change you. the jailer disappeared. He had passed the night standing. perhaps.” The jailer shrugged his shoulders and left the chamber.” “Do you wish for anything?” “I wish to see the governor. as if fixed there. “Have you not slept?” said the jailer. Edmond started.showed Dantes the features of his conductor. He touched him on the shoulder. The jailer advanced. “Here is your chamber for to-night. Dantes was alone in darkness and in silence – cold as the shadows that he felt breathe on his burning forehead. and of sullen appearance. He found the prisoner in the same position. “I do not know. and stretched forth his hands towards the open door. and without sleep. “Are you hungry?” continued he.

” 97 . cheer up. is there anything that I can do for you?” “I wish to see the governor. then?” “Better fare.” “What is allowed. if you pay for it. thanks to his powers of swimming.cast himself on the ground. a dozen times. and asking himself what crime he had committed that he was thus punished. where Mercedes and his father could have joined him. He spoke Italian like a Tuscan. The day passed thus. books. whereas he might. for which he was famous. He had no fears as to how he should live – good seamen are welcome everywhere. and Dantes threw himself furiously down on his straw. The thought was maddening. and all this because he had trusted to Villefort’s promise. “Come. have plunged into the sea. and. “Well. the jailer came again. escaped to Spain or Italy. that during his journey hither he had sat so still. concealed himself until the arrival of a Genoese or Spanish vessel.” “Why so?” “Because it is against prison rules. One thought in particular tormented him: namely. and happy with Mercedes and his father. that impregnable fortress. he would have been free. he scarcely tasted food. “are you more reasonable to-day?” Dantes made no reply. and Spanish like a Castilian. ignorant of the future destiny of his father and Mercedes. have gained the shore. The next morning at the same hour. weeping bitterly. whereas he was now confined in the Chateau d’If. and leave to walk about. but walked round and round the cell like a wild beast in its cage. and prisoners must not even ask for it.” “I have already told you it was impossible.” said the jailer.

” “Well. and if he chooses to reply. or you will be mad in a fortnight. I shall die of hunger – that is all.” “How long has he left it?” “Two years. that is his affair. “if you do not.” “Ah.” The jailer saw by his tone he would be happy to die. “What you ask is impossible.” asked Dantes. then?” 98 . I am satisfied with my food. a month – six months – a year.” “If you worry me by repeating the same thing.” said Edmond. who was in this chamber before you. I will not bring you any more to eat. but I wish to see the governor.” “You think so?” “Yes. and as every prisoner is worth ten sous a day to his jailer.” “Was he liberated.“I do not want books. it was by always offering a million of francs to the governor for his liberty that an abbe became mad. I wish to see him at once.” “It is too long a time.” “But. “how long shall I have to wait?” “Ah.” said the jailer. he replied in a more subdued tone. then. but if you are very well behaved you will be allowed to walk about. and some day you will meet the governor. “do not always brood over what is impossible. and do not care to walk about. we have an instance here.

” “Well. mad enough to tie up. I will some day hide myself behind the door.” “Very well. perhaps I shall be. which is worth two thousand francs a year.“No. fortunately. “All right. retreating and putting himself on the defensive. I am not.” “If I took them. “mark this.” returned Dantes. and were detected. and give her two lines from me. and in three days you will be like him. 99 . I will send word to the governor. but at present. because I have it not. I am not mad. the first time you go to Marseilles. dropping the stool and sitting on it as if he were in reality mad. if you refuse at least to tell Mercedes I am here. then.” said Dantes. “you are certainly going mad. all right. you will seek out a young girl named Mercedes. The abbe began like you. “all right.” said the jailer.” said he.” “Listen!” said Dantes. so that I should be a great fool to run such a risk for three hundred. and when you enter I will dash out your brains with this stool.” “Threats!” cried the jailer. “I am not an abbe. “By the governor’s orders.” “To the dungeon. but.” “What is that?” “I do not offer you a million. I should lose my place.” said the corporal.” Dantes whirled the stool round his head. he was put in a dungeon. and returned in an instant with a corporal and four soldiers. “conduct the prisoner to the tier beneath. I will make you another offer. unfortunately. at the Catalans. but I will give you a hundred crowns if. The jailer went out. there are dungeons here. since you will have it so.

and the door of a dungeon was opened.” The soldiers seized Dantes. who followed passively. and Dantes advanced with outstretched hands until he touched the wall. Dantes wanted but little of being utterly mad. 100 . and he was thrust in. The door closed. The jailer was right. we must put the madman with the madmen. he then sat down in the corner until his eyes became accustomed to the darkness.“Yes. He descended fifteen steps.

hastened back to Madame de Saint-Meran’s in the Place du Grand Cours. then?” asked the marquis.” added he. Renee was.” “You are going to leave us?” cried Renee. Decapitator. “I request your pardon for thus leaving you. Royalist. approaching his future mother-in-law. then. “Alas. anxiously awaiting him. “I must!” “Where.” returned Villefort. remarking the cloud on Villefort’s brow. unable to hide her emotion at this unexpected announcement. as we have said. Brutus. Will the marquis honor me by a few moments’ private conversation?” “Ah. “Marquise. with all the rest of the company. “Well. it is really a serious matter. “Speak out. what is the matter?” said one. “Has the Corsican ogre broken loose?” cried a third. Guardian of the State. Villefort had.” said Villefort. so.Chapter 9: The Evening of the Betrothal. turning to Renee. and his entrance was followed by a general exclamation. and on entering the house found that the guests whom he had left at table were taking coffee in the salon.” “Are we threatened with a fresh Reign of Terror?” asked another. “judge for yourself if it be not important. “So serious that I must take leave of you for a few days. are you going?” asked the marquise. 101 .

“Now. “let us lose no time.” “The deuce you say!” replied the marquis. a friend of mine is going there to-night. excuse the indiscretion.” “But how can I sell out here?” “You have a broker. but if you have any commissions for Paris. madame. please.“That. ordering him to sell out at the market price. as soon as they were by themselves.” asked he. seven or eight hundred thousand francs. then!” And. and tell him to sell out without an instant’s delay. marquis.” “Then sell out – sell out. sitting down. “Yes. “You wish to speak to me alone?” said the marquis. Now. and they left the salon. he wrote a letter to his broker. “tell me what it is?” “An affair of the greatest importance. placing the letter in his pocketbook.” “Then give me a letter to him. and will with pleasure undertake them. then. let us go to the library. that demands my immediate presence in Paris. is an official secret. “Well. or you will lose it all. have you not?” “Yes.” The guests looked at each other.” The marquis took his arm. “I must have another!” “To whom?” 102 . but have you any landed property?” “All my fortune is in the funds.” said Villefort. perhaps even now I shall arrive too late. marquis.

I will call Salvieux and make him write the letter. my fortune is made if I only reach the Tuileries the first. but there is no occasion to divide the honors of my discovery with him. I tell you. that would occasion a loss of precious time.” “Tell your coachman to stop at the door.” The marquis rang. The keeper would leave me in the background.” “I dare not write to his majesty.“To the king.” “In that case go and get ready. for the king will not forget the service I do him. I must be on the road in a quarter of an hour. but ask M.” “I do not ask you to write to his majesty. and take all the glory to himself. I want a letter that will enable me to reach the king’s presence without all the formalities of demanding an audience.” “Doubtless. marquis. 103 .” “Be as quick as possible. and can procure you audience at any hour of the day or night.” “A thousand thanks – and now for the letter.” “You will find them both here. de Salvieux to do so.” “You will present my excuses to the marquise and Mademoiselle Renee.” “But address yourself to the keeper of the seals. and can make your farewells in person. he has the right of entry at the Tuileries.” “To the king?” “Yes. a servant entered. whom I leave on such a day with great regret.

arrived at the salon. go. had come unobserved to inquire after him. he is no longer in my hands. who.” replied Villefort. and. but reflecting that the sight of the deputy procureur running through the streets would be enough to throw the whole city into confusion. that I may know whether he is alive or dead. “But. It was Mercedes.” said the marquis. “The young man you speak of. he pushed by her. again addressed him. “I shall be gone only a few moments. And desirous of putting an end to the interview. appeared to him pale and threatening. and I can do nothing for him. and Villefort instantly recognized her. at least. and when she inquired what had become of her lover. she advanced and stood before him. and closed the door. Dantes had spoken of Mercedes. “is a great criminal. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him. The man he sacrificed to his ambition. Villefort uttered a sigh that was almost a sob. then. As Villefort drew near.” said Villefort abruptly. mademoiselle. as if to exclude the pain he felt. and. hearing no news of her lover. as Villefort strove to pass her. tell me where he is. he resumed his ordinary pace. it seemed to him that she was the judge. and sank into a chair. he carried the arrow in his wound.“Say to the Comte de Salvieux that I would like to see him. and he the accused. like Virgil’s wounded hero. that innocent victim immolated on the altar of his father’s faults.” Villefort hastily quitted the apartment. At his door he perceived a figure in the shadow that seemed to wait for him. Then the first pangs of an unending torture seized upon his heart. But remorse is not thus banished.” “Now.” said she.” Mercedes burst into tears. leading his 104 . “I do not know.

but that slow and consuming agony whose pangs are intensified from hour to hour up to the very moment of death. or rather sprang. but Villefort’s was one of those that never close. at least. stood motionless an instant. and the door was opened only by Villefort’s valet. perceiving that his servant had placed his cloak on his shoulders. As he thus reflected. her emotions were wholly personal: she was thinking only of Villefort’s departure. Alas. If at this moment the sweet voice of Renee had sounded in his ears pleading for mercy. 105 . only close to reopen more agonizing than ever. who came to tell him that the travelling carriage was in readiness. and which had hitherto been unknown to him. He started when he saw Renee. arise in his bosom. As the marquis had promised. and owing to his irresistible eloquence they had been condemned.” his cold and trembling hands would have signed his release. It is thus that a wounded man trembles instinctively at the approach of the finger to his wound until it be healed. furious and terrible. hastily opened one of the drawers of his desk. Then he had a moment’s hesitation. Villefort rose. but the executioner. and yet the slightest shadow of remorse had never clouded Villefort’s brow. de Saint-Meran’s. He had frequently called for capital punishment on criminals. muttered a few inarticulate sounds. he felt the sensation we have described. because they were guilty. his hand pressed to his head. ordering the postilions to drive to M. emptied all the gold it contained into his pocket. and bringing with him remorse. I conjure you to restore me my affianced husband. he believed so. but no voice broke the stillness of the chamber. and then.affianced bride by the hand. Villefort found the marquise and Renee in waiting. “In the name of God. The hapless Dantes was doomed. or if they do. or the fair Mercedes had entered and said. from his chair. and fill him with vague apprehensions. not such as the ancients figured. for he fancied she was again about to plead for Dantes. he sprang into the carriage. but here was an innocent man whose happiness he had destroyed: in this case he was not the judge.

and had despairingly cast herself on her couch. but she knew not that it was day. Grief had made her blind to all but one object – that was Edmond. declaring that the matter was serious and that nothing more could be done. but she paid no heed to the darkness.” said she. took her hand. in the hope of drowning reflection. kneeling by her side. Caderousse was equally restless and uneasy. and covered it with kisses that Mercedes did not even feel. The lamp went out for want of oil. but instead of seeking. far from pleading for Dantes. while spectres danced in the light of the unsnuffed candle – spectres such as Hoffmann strews over his punchdrenched pages. but the report was already in circulation that Dantes was arrested as a Bonapartist agent. and became too intoxicated to fetch any more drink. she had returned to the Catalans. and had returned home in despair. and the influential persons of the city. he met with nothing but refusal. and he had gone to all his friends. you are there. But he did not succeed. Danglars alone was content and joyous – he had got rid of an enemy and made his own situation on the Pharaon secure.” returned Fernand sorrowfully. He had learned that Dantes had been taken to prison. She passed the night thus. Villefort knew not when he should return. at length. “Ah. Fernand. hated the man whose crime separated her from her lover. and he left her at the moment he was about to become her husband. to aid Dantes. turning towards Fernand. like M.She loved Villefort. Meanwhile what of Mercedes? She had met Fernand at the corner of the Rue de la Loge. “I have not quitted you since yesterday. and yet not so intoxicated as to forget what had happened. Danglars was one of those 106 . With his elbows on the table he sat between the two empty bottles. like black. and as the most sanguine looked upon any attempt of Napoleon to remount the throne as impossible. fantastic dust. and dawn came. M. and Renee. Morrel had not readily given up the fight. he had shut himself up with two bottles of black currant brandy. Morrel.

He went to bed at his usual hour.men born with a pen behind the ear. Villefort. Old Dantes was dying with anxiety to know what had become of Edmond. started for Paris along the Aix road. Everything with him was multiplication or subtraction. kissed the marquise’s hand. But we know very well what had become of Edmond. 107 . de Salvieux’ letter. and shaken that of the marquis. after having received M. he could increase the sum total of his own desires. and slept in peace. especially when. The life of a man was to him of far less value than a numeral. and an inkstand in place of a heart. by taking it away. embraced Renee.

and with a king as full of foresight as your majesty. he was particularly attached. We will leave Villefort on the road to Paris. I have every reason to believe that a storm is brewing in the south. sir” – said the king. travelling – thanks to trebled fees – with all speed. seated before a walnut table he had brought with him from Hartwell. and passing through two or three apartments..” “Then of what other scourge are you afraid. “You say. and meanwhile making a marginal note in a volume of Gryphius’s rather inaccurate. my dear Blacas?” “Sire.” 108 .. for that would only betoken for us seven years of plenty and seven years of scarcity. the king.” “Really. sire. was carelessly listening to a man of fifty or fifty-two years of age. sire. have you had a vision of the seven fat kine and the seven lean kine?” “No. with gray hair. from one of those fancies not uncommon to great people. and to which. “That I am exceedingly disquieted. edition of Horace – a work which was much indebted to the sagacious observations of the philosophical monarch. so well known as having been the favorite closet of Napoleon and Louis XVIII. but much sought-after. Louis XVIII. aristocratic bearing. and now of Louis Philippe.Chapter 10: The King’s Closet at the Tuileries. and exceedingly gentlemanly attire. There. enter at the Tuileries the little room with the arched window. scarcity is not a thing to be feared.

” continued M. at least. said. go on – I listen. “you with your alarms prevent me from working. “I think you are wrongly informed. but I fear I am not altogether wrong in dreading some desperate attempt. “Sire. “Sire. liked a pleasant jest. my dear duke. “if it only be to reassure a faithful servant. continuing the annotations in his Horace.” replied the courtier.” “Wait. in order that he might seem to comprehend the quotation. “your majesty may be perfectly right in relying on the good feeling of France. by his adherents. or. Provence. it is very fine weather in that direction. another note on the margin of his Horace. in a hand as small as possible. and I will listen to you afterwards. who will bring you back a faithful report as to the feeling in these three provinces?” “Caninus surdis. my dear duke. laughing.” “By whom?” “By Bonaparte.” replied the king. – “Go on. and Dauphine. while he is only commenting upon the idea of another. and then looking at the duke with the air of a man who thinks he has an idea of his own.” Man of ability as he was. Louis XVIII.” replied Louis XVIII.” “And you. on the contrary. during which Louis XVIII. will your majesty send into Languedoc.” “My dear Blacas. for I have such a delightful note on the Pastor quum traheret – wait. my dear sir. and know positively that. prevent me from sleeping with your security.“Well.” said the king..” 109 . sire.” There was a brief pause. de Blacas. wrote. trusty men. wait a moment.

and we may expect to have issuing thence flaming and bristling war – bella.” “Here. but just stretch out your hand. sire?” “I tell you to the left.” said Blacas. who cannot find anything. But here is M. I mean on my left – yes. “Does your majesty wish me to drop the subject?” “By no means. and so I hastened to you. Dandre leaned very respectfully on the back of a chair with his two hands. but a seriousminded man. yes. announced by the chamberlain-in-waiting. Dandre. – let us see. with repressed smile. “I am compelled to tell you that these are not mere rumors destitute of foundation which thus disquiet me. and tell the duke all you know – the latest news of M.” and M.” “Mala ducis avi domum.” M.” said Louis XVIII.” 110 . and charged by me to watch over the south” (the duke hesitated as he pronounced these words). Baron. Dandre himself. horrida bella. – “Has your majesty perused yesterday’s report?” “Yes. however serious. what the report contains – give him the particulars of what the usurper is doing in his islet. “come in. deserving all my confidence. sire. who had for a moment the hope of sacrificing Villefort to his own profit. do not conceal anything.. “Come in. the Island of Elba is a volcano. my dear duke. but tell the duke himself.. entered.“Sire. “has arrived by post to tell me that a great peril threatens the king. and said. and you are looking to the right.” continued Louis XVIII. there. You will find yesterday’s report of the minister of police. de Bonaparte. still annotating.” “Which?” “Whichever you please – there to the left.

” M. this hero. “the greatest captains of antiquity amused themselves by casting pebbles into the ocean – see Plutarch’s life of Scipio Africanus. “Scratches himself?” inquired the duke. “all the servants of his majesty must approve of the latest intelligence which we have from the Island of Elba. “Bonaparte. Did you forget that this great man. did not even raise his head. flinging stones in the water and when the flint makes ‘duck-anddrake’ five or six times. lest another should reap all the benefit of the disclosure. Sometimes he weeps bitterly.“Monsieur. you must agree that these are indubitable symptoms of insanity. who did not choose to reveal the whole secret.” said the baron to the duke. “what does your majesty mean?” “Yes.” “Or of wisdom. had yet communicated enough to cause him the greatest uneasiness.” “Insane?” “Raving mad. Villefort. de Blacas pondered deeply between the confident monarch and the truthful minister. this demigod.. Bonaparte” – M. employed in writing a note. and passes whole days in watching his miners at work at Porto-Longone. the usurper will be insane. Dandre looked at Louis XVIII. his head becomes weaker. my dear baron – or of wisdom. my dear duke. laughing. Now. “is mortally wearied.” added the king. he appears as delighted as if he had gained another Marengo or Austerlitz. sometimes laughs boisterously. is attacked with a malady of the skin which worries him to death.” continued the minister of police. 111 . moreover.” said Louis XVIII.” continued the baron. who. prurigo?” “And. indeed. my dear duke..” “And scratches himself for amusement. in a very short time. “we are almost assured that. at other time he passes hours on the seashore.

but you must not expect me to be too confiding. and I will urge your majesty to do him this honor. my dear duke. looking at the king and Dandre. and as it is impossible it can be the minister of police as he has the guardianship of the safety and honor of your majesty. “Blacas is not yet convinced. like Virgil’s shepherds. therefore. and pausing for a moment from the voluminous scholiast before him.. However. sire.” “Why. what think you of this?” inquired the king triumphantly. – this is the 4th of March?” 112 . of that I am certain.“Well. who spoke alternately. sire. this is the way of it. well. have you any report more recent than this dated the 20th February. “The usurper’s conversion!” murmured the duke. and exhorted them to ‘serve the good king. baron.” “Most willingly. it is probable that I am in error. and as two or three of his old veterans expressed a desire to return to France. that the minister of police is greatly deceived or I am. let us proceed.” said Louis XVIII. to the usurper’s conversion. Blacas. with the gravest air in the world: “Napoleon lately had a review.’ These were his own words. he gave them their dismissal. your majesty will interrogate the person of whom I spoke to you.” The minister of police bowed. “The usurper converted!” “Decidedly. Tell him all about it. if I might advise. under your auspices I will receive any person you please. Baron. Dandre.” “In what way converted?” “To good principles.” said the minister. duke. “I say.” “Well.

M.. I listen. but cannot. sire. is it not?” and the king laughed facetiously.” “I will but go and return. sir. “Oh. I must change your armorial bearings.” 113 .” replied the minister. biting his nails with impatience. de Blacas.” “Wait. I shall be back in ten minutes. “I wish to consult you on this passage. de Blacas.” “And I. I will give you an eagle with outstretched wings. sire. coming from hosts of people who hope for some return for services which they seek to render. but my messenger is like the stag you refer to. Are you not a sportsman and a great wolf-hunter? Well. then..” “Go thither. and bearing this device – Tenax. “we have no occasion to invent any. for he has posted two hundred and twenty leagues in scarcely three days. wait. ‘Molli fugiens anhelitu. sir. holding in its claws a prey which tries in vain to escape. sire. what do you think of the molli anhelitu?” “Admirable.” “Well.” “Sire. “will go and find my messenger. sire. that is the usual way.” said Louis XVIII. every day our desks are loaded with most circumstantial denunciations. it may have arrived since I left my office.” said De Blacas. “and remember that I am waiting for you.’ you know it refers to a stag flying from a wolf.” continued Louis XVIII. they trust to fortune. sire.” said M. well. “make one. “Really. and rely upon some unexpected event in some way to justify their predictions. said Louis XVIII.“No. go”. and if there be none – well. but I am hourly expecting one.

when we have a telegraph which transmits messages in three or four hours. he is a man of strong and elevated understanding.” “Why did you not mention his name at once?” replied the king. sire.” “M. sire. you recompense but badly this poor young man.” “And writes me thence. but strongly recommends M. and that without getting in the least out of breath. If only for the sake of M. and begs me to present him to your majesty.” “Does he speak to you of this conspiracy?” “No. de Villefort. I thought his name was unknown to your majesty. my brother’s chamberlain?” “Yes. my dear duke.” “No. “is the messenger’s name M. “Sire. Blacas. who has come so far. I entreat your majesty to receive him graciously. betraying some uneasiness.” “And he comes from Marseilles?” “In person.“Which is undergoing great fatigue and anxiety. de Villefort?” “Yes.” “M. de Villefort!” cried the king. you know his father’s name!” 114 . de Salvieux. and with so much ardor. too.” “Ah.” “He is at Marseilles. de Salvieux. to give your majesty useful information. pardieu. ambitious. and. sire. no. who recommends him to me.

” “Noirtier the Girondin? – Noirtier the senator?” “He himself. and to attain this ambition Villefort would sacrifice everything.” “I hasten to do so. overcame all difficulties with a word – his majesty’s order.” “And your majesty has employed the son of such a man?” “Blacas. sire.” The duke left the royal presence with the speed of a young man. my friend. and. muttered. Noirtier. – “Justum et tenacem propositi virum. and turning his eyes on his half-opened Horace. The duke. which was not of courtly cut. in my carriage. you have but limited comprehension. however. 115 . but in the antechamber he was forced to appeal to the king’s authority. may I present him?” “This instant.” M. de Blacas returned as speedily as he had departed. duke! Where is he?” “Waiting below. his really sincere royalism made him youthful again. his costume. excited the susceptibility of M. I told you Villefort was ambitious. Villefort’s dusty garb. Louis XVIII.” “Then. de Breze. in spite of the protestations which the master of ceremonies made for the honor of his office and principles. who was all astonishment at finding that this young man had the audacity to enter before the king in such attire.“His father?” “Yes. remained alone. Villefort was introduced. even his father.” “Seek him at once.

At this moment he will have left Elba. terrible. Villefort found himself facing him. is the news as bad in your opinion as I am asked to believe?” “Sire. to inform your majesty that I have discovered. that it is not irreparable. such as is every day got up in the lower ranks of the people and in the army. but 116 . de Villefort. in the exercise of my duties. however mad. to go whither I know not. he meditates some project. waited until the king should interrogate him.” “Speak as fully as you please. “I will render a faithful report to your majesty. but I must entreat your forgiveness if my anxiety leads to some obscurity in my language. assured Villefort of the benignity of his august auditor.” “Sire. which.” said the king.” Villefort bowed.. “M.” A glance at the king after this discreet and subtle exordium. the usurper is arming three ships. M. sir. I have come as rapidly to Paris as possible.” said Louis XVIII. who began to give way to the emotion which had showed itself in Blacas’s face and affected Villefort’s voice. “come in.” said the king.The king was seated in the same place where the duke had left him. but an actual conspiracy – a storm which menaces no less than your majesty’s throne. by the speed I have used.” “Sire. “Come in. I believe it to be most urgent. the duke is right. and the young magistrate’s first impulse was to pause. sir. and I believe your majesty will think it equally important. Sire. de Villefort. not a commonplace and insignificant plot. and advancing a few steps. and he went on: – “Sire. is yet. “the Duc de Blacas assures me you have some interesting information to communicate. On opening the door. and pray begin at the beginning. but I hope. perhaps.” “In the first place.” said Villefort. and before everything else. “Speak. I like order in everything. sir.

or perhaps on the shores of France. de Villefort. postponing everything.” said the king. This person. sire) – a return which will soon occur. I beg of you. whose name I could not extract from him. “and recently we have had information that the Bonapartist clubs have had meetings in the Rue SaintJacques.” “True.. Your majesty is well aware that the sovereign of the Island of Elba has maintained his relations with Italy and France?” “I am. and whom I suspected of Bonapartism. who charged him with an oral message to a Bonapartist in Paris. and arrested on the day of my departure. and the assurance of my devotion. How did you obtain these details?” “Sire. I left my bride and friends. There he saw the grand-marshal. they are the results of an examination which I have made of a man of Marseilles. But proceed. sire. sir.” said Louis XVIII. that when the circumstance surprised me in the midst of a family festival.” “And where is this man?” “In prison. but this mission was to prepare men’s minds for a return (it is the man who says this. sire. yes. of turbulent character. M. but let us talk of this plot. “was there not a marriage engagement between you and Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran?” “Daughter of one of your majesty’s most faithful servants.” 117 . has been secretly to the Island of Elba.” “Yes.assuredly to attempt a landing either at Naples. whom I have watched for some time. a sailor. much agitated. on the very day of my betrothal.” “And the matter seems serious to you?” “So serious. or on the coast of Tuscany. that I might hasten to lay at your majesty’s feet the fears which impressed me.

de Blacas. Take courage. taking his hand. but M. but at the same time rely on our royal gratitude. For the last ten months my ministers have redoubled their vigilance.“Sire. but more difficult to conduct to an end. he will be in an unfriendly territory. in order to watch the shore of the Mediterranean. At this instant the minister of police appeared at the door. we have our eyes open at once upon the past.” said Louis XVIII. if he land in France. and as if ready to faint. “is a thing very easy to meditate. sir. it must be with a handful of men. smiling. execrated as he is by the population. here is M. the present. the whole coalition would be on foot before he could even reach Piomoino. Villefort was about to retire. inasmuch as. pale..” “A conspiracy in these times. I fear it is more than a plot. Dandre!” cried de Blacas. If Bonaparte landed at Naples.” “Ah. reestablished so recently on the throne of our ancestors. trembling. 118 . restrained him. I fear it is a conspiracy. and the future. and the result of that is easily foretold. if he land in Tuscany.

near Antibes.” said Louis XVIII. de Villefort has just confirmed?” M. I can never forgive myself!” “Monsieur. and besides.” “Well.” 119 . and M. giving way to an impulse of despair. “Sire” – stammered the baron. “I command you to speak. was about to throw himself at the feet of Louis XVIII. – at a small port. as matters were. to be pitied. “What ails you. “You appear quite aghast. what a dreadful misfortune! I am. “In France.” “And where? In Italy?” asked the king eagerly. baron?” he exclaimed.Chapter 11: The Corsican Ogre. At the sight of this agitation Louis XVIII. what is it?” asked Louis XVIII. and landed on the 1st of March. but the fright of the courtier pleaded for the forbearance of the statesman. who retreated a step and frowned. de Blacas has told me... indeed. The minister of police. Has your uneasiness anything to do with what M. it was much more to his advantage that the prefect of police should triumph over him than that he should humiliate the prefect. pushed from him violently the table at which he was sitting. “Oh. the usurper left Elba on the 26th February. “Well. de Blacas moved suddenly towards the baron. in the Gulf of Juan. sire. “Will you speak?” he said. sire. sire.

that is all. sir. sire. in the Gulf of Juan. “M.” “Oh. sir. “You alone forewarned us of the evil. or you have gone mad. “the usurper in France! Then they did not watch over this man. bowing.” “Sire. 120 . and then drew himself up as if this sudden blow had struck him at the same moment in heart and countenance. “the usurper is detested in the south. in league with him. we have all been blind. he was silent. and then suddenly checking himself. sire.” replied the minister.” he said. Dandre is not a man to be accused of treason! Sire. and you only acquired this information to-day. perhaps. it is but too true!” Louis made a gesture of indescribable anger and alarm. near Antibes. now try and aid us with the remedy. assuredly. and it seems to me that if he ventured into the south.” “But” – said Villefort.” “Yes. “my zeal carried me away. You must have received a false report. “Your pardon. then he continued.” replied Louis. on the 1st of March.” said Villefort. and the minister of police has shared the general blindness. sire.” exclaimed the Duc de Blacas. it would be easy to raise Languedoc and Provence against him. “Is he then advancing on Paris?” The minister of police maintained a silence which was equivalent to a complete avowal. speak boldly.” “Advancing – he is advancing!” said Louis XVIII. “In France!” he cried. “but he is advancing by Gap and Sisteron. what you tell me is impossible.” “Alas. two hundred and fifty leagues from Paris. Who knows? they were.“The usurper landed in France. the 4th of March! Well. Will your majesty deign to excuse me?” “Speak.

sire. and shatters me to atoms!” 121 . it was impossible to learn. of Villefort. with a withering smile. and while a deep color overspread his cheeks. I have. The mountaineers are Bonapartists. “What. sire.” he exclaimed. he stammered out.” answered the minister of police. advanced a step. The minister bowed his head.” – Louis XVIII. when I see the fruition of my wishes almost within reach. “he was well informed. “So then. “Do you think it possible to rouse that as well as Provence?” “Sire. “seven conjoined and allied armies overthrew that man. during those five-and-twenty years. And how many men had he with him?” “I do not know.” murmured Louis. the despatch simply stated the fact of the landing and the route taken by the usurper. turning pale with anger. spared no pains to understand the people of France and the interests which were confided to me. and folded his arms over his chest as Napoleon would have done. sire.” “Then.” “And how did this despatch reach you?” inquired the king. but the feeling in Dauphine is quite the reverse of that in Provence or Languedoc. A miracle of heaven replaced me on the throne of my fathers after five-and-twenty years of exile. sir?” inquired the king. I am sorry to tell your majesty a cruel fact.” he added. – “By the telegraph. you do not know! Have you neglected to obtain information on that point? Of course it is of no consequence.“And Dauphine. and now. “Sire. the power I hold in my hands bursts.

sir. – for my fortune is theirs – before me they were nothing – after me they will be nothing. “Approach. M. but to be in the midst of persons elevated by myself to places of honor.” “Really impossible! Yes – that is a great word. who ought to watch over me more carefully than over themselves. was listening to a conversation on which depended the destiny of a kingdom.” resumed the king. “To fall. there are great words. Ridicule. you know not its power in France. yes. “What our enemies say of us is then true. We have learnt nothing. sir. as there are great men.” murmured the minister.” “Sire. M. sire. it was really impossible to learn secrets which that man concealed from all the world. however light a thing to destiny. you are right – it is fatality!” The minister quailed before this outburst of sarcasm. and tell monsieur that it is possible to know beforehand all that he has not known. I would rather mount the scaffold of my brother. and learn of that fall by telegraph! Oh. feeling that the pressure of circumstances. and fifteen 122 . spies. who. and perish miserably from incapacity – ineptitude! Oh.. I have measured them.“Sire. de Villefort. – “to fall. de Blacas wiped the moisture from his brow. agents. Unfortunately. for he felt his increased importance. forgotten nothing! If I were betrayed as he was. Really impossible for a minister who has an office. was too much for any human strength to endure. addressing the young man. and yet you ought to know it!” “Sire. who at the first glance had sounded the abyss on which the monarchy hung suspended. than thus descend the staircase at the Tuileries driven away by ridicule. I would console myself. sir – why. Louis XVI. “for pity’s” – “Approach. motionless and breathless. Villefort smiled within himself.” continued King Louis. it is fatality!” murmured the minister.

he had the power of directing a telegraph. Any other person would. then. Blacas. sire. he had made a friend of one on whom. had been unable to unearth Napoleon’s secret. “for if you have discovered nothing. and I have profited by that chance. see. might in despair at his own downfall interrogate Dantes and so lay bare the motives of Villefort’s plot. instead of aiding to crush him.” said Villefort. In fact. at least you have had the good sense to persevere in your suspicions. have been overcome by such an intoxicating draught of praise. who bent his head in modest triumph. Villefort came to the rescue of the crest-fallen minister.” continued Louis XVIII. like a good and devoted servant – that’s all.hundred thousand francs for secret service money. who learned more than you with all your police. 123 .” The look of the minister of police was turned with concentrated spite on Villefort. the minister. but he feared to make for himself a mortal enemy of the police minister.. here is a gentleman who had none of these resources at his disposal – a gentleman. that your majesty may never have occasion to recall the first opinion you have been pleased to form of me. who.” These words were an allusion to the sentiments which the minister of police had uttered with so much confidence an hour before.” The minister of police thanked the young man by an eloquent look. like you. that without forfeiting the gratitude of the king. although he saw that Dandre was irrevocably lost. and Villefort understood that he had succeeded in his design. Do not attribute to me more than I deserve. “I do not mean that for you. or else dictated by venal ambition. perhaps. “Sire. “the suddenness of this event must prove to your majesty that the issue is in the hands of Providence. he might rely. and who would have saved my crown. in case of necessity. Villefort understood the king’s intent. if. only a simple magistrate. Any other than yourself would have considered the disclosure of M. Realizing this. de Villefort insignificant. what your majesty is pleased to attribute to me as profound perspicacity is simply owing to chance. in the plenitude of his power. that is to say. to know what is going on at sixty leagues from the coast of France! Well.

de Blacas and the minister of police. to me. it appears. de Blacas.” said the minister of police. sire. “Your pardon. what now remains to do is in the department of the minister of war. Yet. “And now. suddenly pausing. “this affair seems to me to have a decided connection with that which occupies our attention.” “On the contrary.” said Louis XVIII. not the respect I have. for I know now what confidence to place in them. had just left a Bonapartist club 124 .” At the name of General Quesnel. speaking of reports. but of assassination. but the rules of etiquette. Villefort trembled. as we first believed. sir. unable to repress an exclamation. turning towards M.” “Do not mention reports. your majesty knows how every report confirms their loyalty and attachment. duke.” he continued. sir. perhaps. and you may retire. what have you learned with regard to the affair in the Rue Saint-Jacques?” “The affair in the Rue Saint-Jacques!” exclaimed Villefort. “I came a moment ago to give your majesty fresh information which I had obtained on this head. “we can rely on the army. – on the contrary. sire.” said M.” “Go on. when your majesty’s attention was attracted by the terrible event that has occurred in the gulf. “that death was not the result of suicide. “you have to-day earned the right to make inquiries here. gentlemen. but my devotion to your majesty has made me forget. for that is too deeply engraved in my heart. Then.” interposed the minister of police.” “Fortunately. and now these facts will cease to interest your majesty. put us on the direct track of a great internal conspiracy. “I have no further occasion for you. General Quesnel. sire.“‘Tis well.. “Everything points to the conclusion. baron.” “Sire. and the death of General Quesnel will. he added. go on.” resumed the king.” replied the king.

with black eyes covered with shaggy eyebrows. 125 . and made an appointment with him in the Rue Saint-Jacques. Villefort. shall be cruelly punished. heard the street mentioned. who was dressing his hair at the moment when the stranger entered. but did not catch the number. for as the minister of police went on speaking he felt his legs bend under him. his assassins. unfortunately. “Do you not think with me. as I am all but convinced. but when he learned that the unknown had escaped the vigilance of the agent who followed him. turned alternately red and pale. sir. has perished the victim of a Bonapartist ambush?” “It is probable. he breathed again. sire. but he was lost sight of at the corner of the Rue de la Jussienne and the Rue Coq-Heron.” It required all Villefort’s coolness not to betray the terror with which this declaration of the king inspired him. “for if. who would have been so useful to us at this moment. buttoned up to the chin. that General Quesnel. the general’s valet. An unknown person had been with him that morning. “Yes. General Quesnel. and a thick mustache. The king looked towards him. “But is this all that is known?” “They are on the track of the man who appointed the meeting with him. de Villefort. whom they believed attached to the usurper. He is a man of from fifty to fifty-two years of age.” “On his track?” said Villefort. Bonapartists or not. dark. and wore at his button-hole the rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor.” Villefort leaned on the back of an arm-chair. but who was really entirely devoted to me. “Continue to seek for this man. has been murdered.” replied Villefort.” As the police minister related this to the king.when he disappeared. who looked as if his very life hung on the speaker’s lips.” said the king to the minister of police. He was dressed in a blue frock-coat. M. Yesterday a person exactly corresponding with this description was followed. the servant has given his description.

Lazare.” “Ah. sire. I will no longer detain you. the kindness your majesty deigns to evince towards me is a recompense which so far surpasses my utmost ambition that I have nothing more to ask for. Louis. go and rest.” said Louis.” “Sire. sir. and gave it to Villefort) – “in the meanwhile take this cross. I trust. In the meanwhile” (the king here detached the cross of the Legion of Honor which he usually wore over his blue coat. smiling in a manner which proved that all these questions were not made without a motive.’“ “Sire. I went straight to the Duc de Blacas. we will not forget you. make your mind easy.” he replied. “I forgot you and M. with some asperity. in the Rue de Tournon. Of course you stopped at your father’s?” A feeling of faintness came over Villefort. and that is another sacrifice made to the royal cause.” “Never mind.” continued the king. near the cross of St. “I alighted at the Hotel de Madrid. above the order of Notre-Dame-du-Mont-Carmel and St. and for which you should be recompensed. “No.“How strange.” “But you have seen him?” “Sire. M.” 126 . for you must be fatigued after so long a journey.” “But you will see him. sire. ‘A murder has been committed. your majesty will. be amply satisfied on this point at least.” “We shall see. de Villefort. ‘And we are on the track of the guilty persons. I forgot. Noirtier are not on the best terms possible.’ and especially so when they can add. “the police think that they have disposed of the whole matter when they say. then?” “I think not.

“in an hour I shall have quitted Paris. he took the cross and kissed it. He was about to begin his repast when the sound of the bell rang sharp and loud.” said the minister of police to Villefort.. and Villefort heard some one speak his name. send for the minister of war. Baron.” said Villefort. and springing in.” Villefort’s eyes were filled with tears of joy and pride. de Villefort. for I have not the time to procure you another.” “Go. Blacas. such as it is. One passed at the moment. “take it. sir.” he said. bowing. do not be afraid to bring yourself to my recollection.” “Will it be long first?” muttered Villefort.“Sire. which he hailed. you may be of the greatest service to me at Marseilles.” replied Villefort. and gave loose to dreams of ambition. threw himself on the seat. as they left the Tuileries.” said the king. “And now. “may I inquire what are the orders with which your majesty deigns to honor me?” “Take what rest you require.” “Ma foi. let it be your care to see that the brevet is made out and sent to M. saluting the minister. sir. “you entered by luck’s door – your fortune is made. The valet opened the door. whose career was ended.” “Ah. and looking about him for a hackney-coach. 127 . and remember that if you are not able to serve me here in Paris.” “Sire. Ten minutes afterwards Villefort reached his hotel. he gave his address to the driver. remain. and asked to have his breakfast brought to him. “and should I forget you (kings’ memories are short).” said Louis XVIII. Blacas. this is an officer’s cross. “your majesty mistakes. ordered horses to be ready in two hours.

with black eyes. “In a blue frock-coat. “Well.” “Did he mention my name?” “Yes. turning pale.” “Dark or fair?” “Dark. sir. The valet entered. buttoned up close. a man of about fifty. – very dark.” said Villefort.” “To me?” “Yes. decorated with the Legion of Honor. black hair.” “A stranger who will not send in his name! What can he want with me?” “He wishes to speak to you.” “Short or tall?” “About your own height.” “And how dressed?” asked Villefort quickly.” “What sort of person is he?” “Why. 128 .“Who could know that I was here already?” said the young man.” “It is he!” said Villefort. “what is it? – Who rang? – Who asked for me?” “A stranger who will not send in his name. black eyebrows. sir.

” “Leave us. my dear Gerard. if you felt so sure. then.” replied the new-comer. “what a great deal of ceremony! Is it the custom in Marseilles for sons to keep their fathers waiting in their anterooms?” “Father!” cried Villefort. that it was not very filial of you to keep me waiting at the door.“Eh. The servant quitted the apartment with evident signs of astonishment. “allow me to say.” said Villefort. pardieu. “then I was not deceived. 129 .” said the individual whose description we have twice given.” “Well. putting his cane in a corner and his hat on a chair. Germain. I felt sure it must be you. entering the door.

” replied M.” “And if I have come. and then extended his hand to Villefort. you seem as if you were not very glad to see me?” “My dear father. that he might be overheard in the ante-chamber. Noirtier then took the trouble to close and bolt the ante-chamber door. on the contrary. and then. he who entered – looked after the servant until the door was closed.Chapter 12: Father and Son. no doubt. I am vice-president. stretching himself out at his ease in the chair. Noirtier. pray tell me all about it. he opened the door again.” said he to the young man. yes.” “Ah.” “But. that it has somewhat overcome me. for it is for you that I came. my dear Gerard. and on the 3rd of March you turn up here in Paris. drawing closer to M. “Really. who proved that he was not exempt from the sin which ruined our first parents. my dear fellow. fearing. “I might say the same thing to you. 53. delighted. as appeared from the rapid retreat of Germain. my dear father. and my journey will be your salvation. seating himself. nor was the precaution useless. indeed. “do not complain. “I am.” 130 . now. indeed!” said M. for it must be interesting. “do you know. “Well. you have heard speak of a certain Bonapartist club in the Rue Saint-Jacques?” “No. Noirtier – for it was. then that of the bed-chamber.” said Gerard. when you announce to me your wedding for the 28th of February. Noirtier. but I so little expected your visit. with a very significant look.” said Villefort. M. who had followed all his motions with surprise which he could not conceal. M. Noirtier.” “Father.

Yes. has escaped from Paris in a hay-cart. I entreat of you – for your own sake as well as mine. I heard this news. in return for your story. and General Quesnel. I was aware of his intention. But go on. was found the next day in the Seine. your coolness makes me shudder. halfdesperate at the enforced delay.” “No matter.” 131 . Why. “I will tell you another.” “Why.” continued Noirtier. been hunted over the plains of Bordeaux by Robespierre’s bloodhounds. he becomes accustomed to most things.” “Well.” “Three days ago? You are crazy. father. when a man has been proscribed by the mountaineers. who quitted his own house at nine o’clock in the evening.” “How did you know about it?” “By a letter addressed to you from the Island of Elba.“Father. for three days ago I posted from Marseilles to Paris with all possible speed. they induced General Quesnel to go there. you have heard of the landing of the emperor?” “Not so loud. and knew it even before you could. I think I already know what you are about to tell me. what about the club in the Rue Saint-Jacques?” “Why.” “And who told you this fine story?” “The king himself.” “Ah. three days ago the emperor had not landed.” “My dear father. my dear boy. then.

” “You do? Why. I can easily comprehend that.” “I do better than that.” “It appears that this club is rather a bore to the police. you. sir – I save you. “will the Restoration adopt imperial methods so promptly? Shot.” “I must refer again to the club in the Rue Saint-Jacques. Had that letter fallen into the hands of another.” said he. really. would probably ere this have been shot. it declares that it is on the track. When the police is at fault. “Come.” 132 . Why didn’t they search more vigilantly? they would have found” – “They have not found. I am quite familiar with it. come. for fear that even a fragment should remain. “yes.” “Yes. and the government patiently awaits the day when it comes to say.“To me?” “To you.” “I burnt it. and which I discovered in the pocket-book of the messenger. my dear boy? What an idea! Where is the letter you speak of? I know you too well to suppose you would allow such a thing to pass you. that the usual phrase.” replied Noirtier.” Villefort’s father laughed. But I have nothing to fear while I have you to protect me. but they are on the track. with a sneaking air. that the track is lost.” “And the destruction of your future prospects. the thing becomes more and more dramatic – explain yourself. for that letter must have led to your condemnation. my dear father.

to found an accusation on such bad premises! Did I ever say to you. but they have found a corpse. my dear fellow.“Yes. that is all. the general has been killed. there is nothing to prove that the general was murdered. I will tell you.” “The king! I thought he was philosopher enough to allow that there was no murder in politics.” “And who thus designated it?” “The king himself. and people do not bathe in the Seine in the month of January. this was murder in every sense of the word. and in all countries they call that a murder. When he had heard and comprehended all to the fullest extent. or having been drowned from not knowing how to swim. my dear fellow. as well as I do. No. one of us went to him. you surprise me.” “A murder do you call it? why. that’s all. you have committed a murder?’ No. Yet he did not return home. no. and yet. you know very well that the general was not a man to drown himself in despair. we only remove an obstacle. and did so. where he would find some friends. ‘My son. Would you like to know how matters have progressed? Well. I said. and invited him to the Rue Saint-Jacques. but interests. You. do not be deceived. It was thought reliance might be placed in General Quesnel. What could that mean? why. A murder? really. a deputy procureur. the general was allowed to depart free – perfectly free.” “Father. etc. in spite of that. and cut off the head of one of my party. you know. Then all looked at each other. – he was made to take an oath. ‘Very 133 . People are found every day in the Seine. but with such an ill grace that it was really tempting Providence to swear him. there are no men. when you were fulfilling your character as a royalist. that on leaving us he lost his way. He came there. he was recommended to us from the Island of Elba. and the plan was unfolded to him for leaving Elba. in politics we do not kill a man. Villefort. he replied that he was a royalist. In politics. having thrown themselves in. but ideas – no feelings. the projected landing.

Really.” “Grenoble will open her gates to him with enthusiasm – all Lyons will hasten to welcome him. the emperor is at this moment on the way to Grenoble.” “I do not understand you.” “My dear fellow. three days after the landing. to-morrow.” “Yes. and in this way they will chase him to Paris.well. our revenge will be sweeping. we are as well informed as you. He is pursued.” “You rely on the usurper’s return?” “We do. to escort him into the capital.” “Grenoble and Lyons are faithful cities. and will oppose to him an impassable barrier. and on the 20th or 25th at Paris. you are but a child. and 134 . Believe me. and armies will be despatched against him. take care. you have gained the victory.” “You are mistaken. my dear Gerard. ‘The usurper has landed at Cannes with several men.” “Yes. perchance. tracked. and caught like a wild beast.” “He has but a handful of men with him. without drawing a trigger.” “The people will rise.’“ “But. to go and meet him. he will not advance two leagues into the interior of France without being followed. it will be our turn. you think yourself well informed because the telegraph has told you. father. on the 10th or 12th he will be at Lyons. sir. when our turn comes.’ But where is he? what is he doing? You do not know at all.

” “Eh? the thing is simple enough. devotion. the phrase for hopeful ambition.” “Oh.” “However stupid the royalist police may be. fork. presented himself at his house. “Wait.” “What is that?” “The description of the man who. I believe.” “Say on. the admirable police have found that out. for that is. to summon the servant whom his son had not called.” “Devotion!” said Villefort.” “Indeed!” replied Villefort. yet I have your address. Villefort caught his arm. if you please. “Yes. have they? And what may be that description?” 135 . on the morning of the day when General Quesnel disappeared. Would you like a proof of it? well. have those which devotion prompts. with a sneer. and plate. looking at his father with astonishment. and yet I knew of your arrival half an hour after you had passed the barrier. Ring. my dear father. You gave your direction to no one but your postilion. you wished to conceal your journey from me.” said the young man. “one word more.” And Villefort’s father extended his hand to the bell-rope. You who are in power have only the means that money produces – we who are in expectation. “you really do seem very well informed. and in proof I am here the very instant you are going to sit at table. and we will dine together. they do know one terrible thing.our police are as good as your own. for a second knife. then.

they lost sight of him at the corner of the Rue Coq-Heron.” 136 . “and why.” said Noirtier. I hope not. that’s it. cut the air with it once or twice. Villefort watched him with alarm not devoid of admiration. do you think your police will recognize me now.” “No.” “True. “true. “He will consequently make a few changes in his personal appearance.” “Ah. put on. lathered his face. “at least. tried on before the glass a narrow-brimmed hat of his son’s. took. and. have they not laid hands on him?” “Because yesterday. and whiskers. went towards a table on which lay his son’s toilet articles.” stammered Villefort. black. and walked about with that easy swagger which was one of his principal characteristics. in lieu of his blue and high-buttoned frock-coat.” “Didn’t I say that your police were good for nothing?” “Yes. as he is. and put off his frock-coat and cravat. Noirtier gave another turn to his hair. His whiskers cut off. when this disguise was completed. looking carelessly around him. then. he took up a small bamboo switch. instead of his black cravat. is it?” said Noirtier. took a razor. cut off the compromising whiskers. if this person were not on his guard. rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor in his button-hole. buttoned up to the chin. blue frock-coat. “Well. “well. a colored neckerchief which lay at the top of an open portmanteau. leaving his cane in the corner where he had deposited it. eyebrows. and. and a cane. turning towards his wondering son. father. but they may catch him yet.” and he added with a smile.“Dark complexion.” he said. and cut away in front. hair. with a firm hand. which appeared to fit him perfectly. a hat with wide brim. ha. or the day before.” At these words he rose. a coat of Villefort’s of dark brown.

is already saluted as Bonaparte at Lyons. and emperor at Grenoble.” said Villefort.” “True. who at Nevers is styled the usurper. captured.“And now. you are deceived as to the feeling in France.” “Would you pass in his eyes for a prophet?” “Prophets of evil are not in favor at the court. you would then pass for a great man. ready to desert.” “Oh.” Villefort shook his head. and now I believe you are right. Sire. my dear boy. that you may be mistaken. go. “You are not convinced yet?” “I hope at least. for your adversary is powerful enough to show you 137 . You think he is tracked. rely on me. “Yes. he is advancing as rapidly as his own eagles. he whom in Paris you call the Corsican ogre. The soldiers you believe to be dying with hunger. be assured I will return the favor hereafter. but some day they do them justice.” “Shall you see the king again?” “Perhaps.” continued Noirtier. “I rely on your prudence to remove all the things which I leave in your care. not that you incur any risk. and supposing a second restoration. go. worn out with fatigue. as to the opinions of the towns. yes.” “Well. pursued. what should I say to the king?” “Say this to him: ‘Sire. father. to him who acquired it. gather like atoms of snow about the rolling ball as it hastens onward. and the prejudices of the army. leave France to its real master. and that you have really saved my life. not by purchase. but by right of conquest. sire.

broke the cane into small bits and flung it in the fire. Gerard. “one means by which you may a second time save me. and. we will keep you in your place. my son – go. Marengo.” added Noirtier. with the same calmness that had characterized him during the whole of this remarkable and trying conversation. at length reached Marseilles. paid his bill. and by your obedience to my paternal orders. who were there. put aside the curtain. put the black cravat and blue frock-coat at the bottom of the portmanteau. Villefort stood watching. threw the hat into a dark closet. secret. return with all speed.” Noirtier left the room when he had finished. 138 . to arrest a man with black whiskers. learned at Lyons that Bonaparte had entered Grenoble. if the political balance should some day take another turn. cool and collected. my dear Gerard. until his father had disappeared at the Rue Bussy. a prey to all the hopes and fears which enter into the heart of man with ambition and its first successes. I swear to you. or. Austerlitz. do not boast of what you have come to Paris to do. and a blue frock-coat. checked with a look the thousand questions he was ready to ask. and calling his valet. Keep your journey a secret. and at your next journey alight at my door. for this time. and saw him pass. Go. This will be. we shall act like powerful men who know their enemies. submissive. tell him nothing. but because it would be humiliating for a grandson of Saint Louis to owe his life to the man of Arcola. friendly counsels.’ Tell him this. my dear Gerard. and in the midst of the tumult which prevailed along the road. and there remain. Then he turned to the various articles he had left behind him. inoffensive. and hat with broad brim. rather. or. quiet. Adieu. if you prefer it. enter Marseilles at night. which was ready. breathless. put on his travelling-cap. or have done. and cast you aloft while hurling me down. Villefort.mercy. above all. by two or three ill-looking men at the corner of the street. sprang into his carriage. perhaps. ran to the window. and your house by the back-door. pale and agitated. with a smile.

Chapter 13: The Hundred Days. – he found on the table there Louis XVIII. have deprived Villefort of his office had it not been for Noirtier. therefore. and it required but little to excite the populace to acts of far greater violence than the shouts and insults with which they assailed the royalists whenever they ventured abroad. although M. who was all powerful at court. Louis XVIII.’s half-filled snuff-box. and thus the Girondin of ‘93 and the Senator of 1806 protected him who so lately had been his protector. and things progressed rapidly. The king’s procureur alone was deprived of his office. doubtless. gained nothing save the king’s gratitude (which was rather likely to injure him at the present time) and the cross of the Legion of Honor. scarcely had the emperor re-entered the Tuileries and begun to issue orders from the closet into which we have introduced our readers. 139 . and at a sign from the emperor the incongruous structure of ancient prejudices and new ideas fell to the ground. Every one knows the history of the famous return from Elba. made but a faint attempt to parry this unexpected blow. always smouldering in the south. de Blacas had duly forwarded the brevet. the monarchy he had scarcely reconstructed tottered on its precarious foundation. However. which he had the prudence not to wear. a return which was unprecedented in the past. M. All Villefort’s influence barely enabled him to stifle the secret Dantes had so nearly divulged. in spite of the authorities. – scarcely had this occurred when Marseilles began. Napoleon would. Noirtier was a true prophet. as he had predicted. and will probably remain without a counterpart in the future. to rekindle the flames of civil war. scarcely was the imperial power established – that is. Villefort. being suspected of royalism.

Owing to this change. that most insurmountable barrier which separates the well-bred from the vulgar man. he felt a cold shudder all over him when he saw Villefort sitting there with his elbow on his desk. and full of that glacial politeness. He made Morrel wait in the ante-chamber. because Morrel was a prudent and rather a timid man. and he knew this would be a sign of weakness. but Villefort was a man of ability. then. and the marriage be still more suitable. If the emperor remained on the throne. sir. the worthy shipowner became at that moment – we will not say all powerful. and his head leaning on his hand. therefore. Any one else would have hastened to receive him. but his marriage was put off until a more favorable opportunity. the first magistrate of Marseilles. “Yes. when one morning his door opened. Villefort gazed at him as if he had some difficulty in recognizing him. and M. The deputy-procureur was. Gerard required a different alliance to aid his career. firm. calm. could be vastly increased. he ordered M. returned.” 140 . on the contrary. Morrel expected Villefort would be dejected. for the simple reason that the king’s procureur always makes every one wait. during which the honest shipowner turned his hat in his hands. Morrel. that many of the most zealous partisans of Bonaparte accused him of “moderation” – but sufficiently influential to make a demand in favor of Dantes. He had entered Villefort’s office expecting that the magistrate would tremble at the sight of him. like his own. Morrel to be admitted. I believe?” said Villefort. so much so. he found him as he had found him six weeks before. after a brief interval. and after passing a quarter of an hour in reading the papers. Morrel was announced. Villefort retained his place. although he had no one with him. if Louis XVIII. He stopped at the door. – “M. the influence of M. de Saint-Meran.

” “Explain yourself. I came to intercede for a young man. “What is his name?” said he. – “Are you quite sure you are not mistaken. “Tell me his name. 141 .” “Edmond Dantes. “Edmond Dantes.” “Yes. to ask what has become of him?” Villefort by a strong effort sought to control himself. but if I can serve you in any way I shall be delighted. monsieur?” said he. turning to Morrel. “Not in the least. and then. pray. from the table turned to his registers. to-day you serve Napoleon. recovering his assurance as he proceeded. I come. but he did not blanch. with a patronizing wave of the hand.” Villefort opened a large register. and you did not show any favor – it was your duty. monsieur. “and tell me to what circumstance I owe the honor of this visit.” “Monsieur. who was accused of being concerned in correspondence with the Island of Elba? What was the other day a crime is to-day a title to favor.” “Everything depends on you. and you ought to protect him – it is equally your duty.” said Morrel.. “do you recollect that a few days before the landing of his majesty the emperor.” repeated he. therefore.“Come nearer. “Dantes.” said the magistrate. You then served Louis XVIII.” “Do you not guess. then went to a table. the mate of my ship.” Villefort would probably have rather stood opposite the muzzle of a pistol at five-and-twenty paces than have heard this name spoken. monsieur?” asked Morrel. in the most natural tone in the world.

the legitimate monarch is he who is loved by his people. “I was then a royalist. disappointed in his expectations of exciting fear. as I come to-day to plead for justice.” “Carried off!” said Morrel.” said Villefort.” “Well?” “I made my report to the authorities at Paris. “I like to hear you speak thus.” “Monsieur. was conscious only of the other’s condescension. the last four of which he was in my service. and I augur well for Edmond from it. who was about to marry a young Catalan girl. The miraculous return of Napoleon has conquered me. You received me very coldly.” “How so?” “You know that when he left here he was taken to the Palais de Justice. I have known him for ten years. but the chosen of the nation. Oh.” “That’s right!” cried Morrel. But Morrel. “No. Villefort had calculated rightly. “What can they have done with him?” 142 . instead of referring him to the governors of the prison or the prefect of the department.” “Wait a moment. or better versed in these matters.” returned Villefort. I came about six weeks ago to plead for clemency. because I believed the Bourbons not only the heirs to the throne. turning over the leaves of a register. the royalists were very severe with the Bonapartists in those days.Had Morrel been a more quick-sighted man. it was a very serious charge. Do not you recollect. “I have it – a sailor. he would have been surprised at the king’s procureur answering him on such a subject. I recollect now.” said Morrel. and a week after he was carried off. “I am not mistaken.

how would you advise me to act?” asked he. “is there no way of expediting all these formalities – of releasing him from arrest?” “There has been no arrest. so that no written forms or documents may defeat their wishes.” “It might be so under the Bourbons. it shall be kept for him. “The order of imprisonment came from high authority. to Pignerol. The emperor is more strict in prison discipline than even Louis himself. Morrel. my dear Morrel. “Well.” Had Morrel even any suspicions.” said Morrel.” “Do not be too hasty. and the number of prisoners whose names are not on the register is incalculable.” “Come when he will. but at present” – “It has always been so. M.” “How?” “It is sometimes essential to government to cause a man’s disappearance without leaving any traces.” “But.” 143 . since the reign of Louis XIV. and the order for his liberation must proceed from the same source. de Villefort. “Petition the minister. M. the letters have not yet been forwarded. so much kindness would have dispelled them.” replied Villefort. as Napoleon has scarcely been reinstated a fortnight. or to the SainteMarguerite islands. But how is it he is not already returned? It seems to me the first care of government should be to set at liberty those who have suffered for their adherence to it. Some fine morning he will return to take command of your vessel.“Oh. he has been taken to Fenestrelles. and.

“But how shall I address the minister?” “Sit down there. It was evident that at the sight of this document the minister would instantly release him. Dantes was then guilty. we have lost too much already. The petition finished. and does not read three.” “That is true. no doubt. the minister receives two hundred petitions every day.” Villefort shuddered at the suggestion. giving up his place to Morrel.” said Villefort.” “And will you undertake to deliver it?” “With the greatest pleasure. however improbable it might be.” “Will you be so good?” “Certainly. and now he is innocent.” “That is true. Dantes must be crushed to gratify Villefort’s ambition. Villefort read it aloud.“Oh. Dantes’ patriotic services were exaggerated. and he was made out one of the most active agents of Napoleon’s return. “leave the rest to me.” “Will the petition go soon?” “To-day.” Villefort thus forestalled any danger of an inquiry. but he had gone too far to draw back. But lose no time. but he will read a petition countersigned and presented by me. “That will do. from an excellent intention. in which. “and write what I dictate. Villefort dictated a petition.” 144 .” said he. Only think what the poor fellow may even now be suffering. which. and it is as much my duty to free him as it was to condemn him. if it did take place would leave him defenceless. I know what that is.

As for Villefort.” And.“Countersigned by you?” “The best thing I can do will be to certify the truth of the contents of your petition. – that is. whose father now stood higher at court than ever. after the manner of mediocre minds. and heard not the noise of the fall of Louis XVIII. he. Villefort. and obtained a recommendation from 145 . he carefully preserved the petition that so fearfully compromised Dantes. Villefort wrote the certificate at the bottom.’s throne. a second restoration. remained in his dungeon. and hastened to announce to old Dantes that he would soon see his son. Dantes remained a prisoner. in the hopes of an event that seemed not unlikely. to whom Marseilles had become filled with remorseful memories.” This assurance delighted Morrel. and any fresh attempt would only compromise himself uselessly. remounted the throne. And so Dantes. Danglars comprehended the full extent of the wretched fate that overwhelmed Dantes. who took leave of Villefort. forgotten of earth and heaven. “a decree of Providence. he had done all that was in his power. “What more is to be done?” “I will do whatever is necessary. after the Hundred Days and after Waterloo. and twice had Villefort soothed him with promises. and he lived in constant fear of Dantes’ return on a mission of vengeance.” But when Napoleon returned to Paris. and Morrel came no more. and a fortnight afterwards he married Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. At last there was Waterloo. He therefore informed M. and. instead of sending to Paris. sought and obtained the situation of king’s procureur at Toulouse. Danglars’ heart failed him. Louis XVIII. or the still more tragic destruction of the empire. Morrel of his wish to quit the sea. sitting down. Twice during the Hundred Days had Morrel renewed his demand. when Napoleon returned to France. termed the coincidence.

Should Dantes not return. What had become of him he cared not to inquire. and this was now strengthened by gratitude. during the respite the absence of his rival afforded him. His devotion. Only. Fernand’s mind was made up.him to a Spanish merchant. for if you are killed. But Fernand was mistaken. as from time to time he sat sad and motionless on the summit of Cape Pharo. Had Fernand really meant to kill himself. partly on the means of deceiving Mercedes as to the cause of his absence. Fernand departed with the rest. he would have done so when he parted from Mercedes. a man of his disposition never kills himself. who was for him also the messenger of vengeance. his rival would perhaps return and marry Mercedes. partly on plans of emigration and abduction. Sometimes she stood mute and motionless as a statue. Mercedes might one day be his. watching for the apparition of a young and handsome man. and debating as to whether it were not better to cast 146 . Fernand understood nothing except that Dantes was absent. that is. “be careful of yourself.” These words carried a ray of hope into Fernand’s heart. at other times gazing on the sea. and the sea that had never seemed so vast. and every man in France capable of bearing arms rushed to obey the summons of the emperor. Bathed in tears she wandered about the Catalan village. looking towards Marseilles. he reflected. bearing with him the terrible thought that while he was away. “My brother. produced the effect they always produce on noble minds – Mercedes had always had a sincere regard for Fernand. I shall be alone in the world. and then kill himself. and the compassion he showed for her misfortunes. He then left for Madrid.” said she as she placed his knapsack on his shoulders. into whose service he entered at the end of March. and was no more heard of. at the spot from whence Marseilles and the Catalans are visible. Mercedes was left alone face to face with the vast plain that had never seemed so barren. he would shoot Dantes. ten or twelve days after Napoleon’s return. During this time the empire made its last conscription. for he constantly hopes.

the father of so dangerous a Bonapartist as Dantes. but. but her religious feelings came to her aid and saved her. who was only sustained by hope. even on his death-bed. Old Dantes. Five months after he had been separated from his son. Morrel paid the expenses of his funeral. Caderousse was.herself into the abyss of the ocean. lost all hope at Napoleon’s downfall. and to assist. being married and eight years older. and a few small debts the poor old man had contracted. 147 . he breathed his last in Mercedes’ arms. there was courage. was stigmatized as a crime. and thus end her woes. like Fernand. There was more than benevolence in this action. the south was aflame. he was merely sent to the frontier. M. and almost at the hour of his arrest. It was not want of courage that prevented her putting this resolution into execution. enrolled in the army.

the dangerous and mad prisoners are in the dungeons.’s restoration. and you might fall a victim. – always the same thing. the cells and dungeons of several of the prisoners. “I do not know what reason government can assign for these useless visits. a visit was made by the inspectorgeneral of prisons. when you see one prisoner. Dantes in his cell heard the noise of preparation. but he had so long ceased to have any intercourse with the world. who could hear the splash of the drop of water that every hour fell from the roof of his dungeon. The inspector asked if they had anything else to ask for.” “Let us first send for two soldiers. “We must play the farce to the end. – ill fed and innocent. “The prisoners sometimes. you see all. that the fare was detestable.” said the inspector with an air of fatigue.” “Let us visit them. and if they had any request to make.Chapter 14: The Two Prisoners. commit acts of useless violence. whose good behavior or stupidity recommended them to the clemency of the government. The inspector visited. one after another. He guessed something uncommon was passing among the living. Let us see the dungeons. What could they desire beyond their liberty? The inspector turned smilingly to the governor. They shook their heads. and that they wanted to be set free.” said the governor. Are there any others?” “Yes. and in order to be sentenced to death. He inquired how they were fed. The universal response was. that he looked upon himself as dead. A year after Louis XVIII. – sounds that at the depth where he lay would have been inaudible to any but the ear of a prisoner. through mere uneasiness of life.” “Take all needful precautions. 148 .” replied the inspector.

Antoine?” asked the governor. “He must be mad. so foul.” 149 . “True enough. “who can live here?” “A most dangerous conspirator. not until he attempted to kill the turnkey. and the inspector descended a stairway. the very one who is lighting us. as he is daring and resolute.Two soldiers were accordingly sent for. “Oh. so humid.” cried the inspector.” “Was he placed here when he first arrived?” “No. and in another year he will be quite so. “He is worse than that. and respiration. “Oh. he wanted to kill me!” returned the turnkey. he is almost mad now.” said the inspector. “Shall I complain of him?” demanded the inspector. smell. it is useless. who took his food to him. Is it not true. as to be loathsome to sight. – he is a devil!” returned the turnkey.” “To kill the turnkey?” “Yes. Besides.” “He is alone?” “Certainly.” “How long his he been there?” “Nearly a year. no. so dark. a man we are ordered to keep the most strict watch over.

Dantes. who guessed the truth. whence he could see the ray of light that came through a narrow iron grating above. – he will suffer less. he now grows fat. and to whom the governor spoke bareheaded. The inspector listened attentively. “He will become religious – he is already more gentle. he addressed the inspector. “You are right. sir. and to which you descend by another stair. and the change is astonishing. and he signed to the turnkey to open the door.” returned the inspector. He used to weep. and in 1813 he went mad. and sought to inspire him with pity.” This was the inspector’s first visit. formerly leader of a party in Italy. sprang forward with clasped hands. Dantes saw that he was looked upon as dangerous. Now we have in a dungeon about twenty feet distant. for his madness is amusing. “By all means. who has been here since 1811. He was. he now laughs. then. an abbe. Dantes. turning to the governor. You had better see him. he wished to display his authority. At the sound of the key turning in the lock. for they thought that he was about to attack the inspector. “I must conscientiously perform my duty. he grew thin. and the creaking of the hinges. he is afraid. infusing all the humility he possessed into his eyes and voice. “Let us visit this one first. raised his head. and in every way fit for his office.” added he. observed. and the latter recoiled two or three steps.” “I will see them both. who was crouched in a corner of the dungeon. as this remark shows. escorted by two turnkeys holding torches and accompanied by two soldiers. a man full of philanthropy. Then.” replied the governor. and that the moment to address himself to the superior authorities was come. Seeing a stranger.“So much the better for him. “and this remark proves that you have deeply considered the subject.” replied the governor. and 150 .” said the inspector. The soldiers interposed their bayonets.

and is ignorant of the fate of his affianced 151 . 1816.” Then. it’s of no consequence. to be set at liberty. especially to a man who.” “Only seventeen months. when you tried to kill the turnkey. like me. What matters really.” remarked the governor. and I beg his pardon.” “So long? – when were you arrested. you do not know what is seventeen months in prison! – seventeen ages rather. to die here cursing his executioners. to be shot. 1815. and if I am guilty. who saw an honorable career opened before him. the other day. “you are not so always. like me. not only to me. I made some curious observations on this at Charenton. had arrived at the summit of his ambition – to a man. “I want to know what crime I have committed – to be tried. – why it is but seventeen months. who. “I believe so. then?” asked the inspector. for instance. for he his always been very good to me. “What is it you want?” said he. and who loses all in an instant – who sees his prospects destroyed.retreated before the bayonets – madmen are not afraid of anything.” “You are very humble to-day. but to officers of justice and the king.” “Are you well fed?” said the inspector.” “It is true. “The 28th of February. turning to the prisoner. I don’t know.” “And you are not so any longer?” “No.” replied Dantes.” “To-day is the 30th of July. but I was mad. sir. the victim of an infamous denunciation. if innocent. “Oh. captivity has subdued me – I have been here so long. is that an innocent man should languish in prison. at half-past two in the afternoon. was on the point of marrying a woman he adored.

is a worse punishment than human crime ever merited. “I can tell by your voice you are touched with pity. he is now at Toulouse. “since my only protector is removed. “On my word. then.” “I am no longer surprised at my detention. and ask for me. Let me know my crime. “I can only promise to examine into your case. not intelligence. but a trial. and hear what he says. and the reason why I was condemned. Have pity on me. “Monsieur. the poor devil touches me.” “Go on with the lights. that. I am free – then I am saved!” “Who arrested you?” “M.” 152 .” said the inspector.wife. and whether his aged father be still living! Seventeen months captivity to a sailor accustomed to the boundless ocean.” “M.” “Oh.” cried Dantes. turning to the governor.” “Certainly. sir.” continued Dantes. but you will find terrible charges. Villefort is no longer at Marseilles. I ask only for a trial. surely. but a verdict – a trial. not pardon. Villefort.” “Monsieur. You must show me the proofs against him.” “I cannot tell you that. but you can plead for me – you can have me tried – and that is all I ask.” said the inspector.” murmured Dantes. then. cannot be denied to one who is accused!” “We shall see.” replied the inspector. Uncertainty is worse than all. “I know it is not in your power to release me. See him. tell me at least to hope.

” The turnkey obeyed.” “I can. then. then.” said the inspector. “or proceed to the other cell?” “Let us visit them all. on the contrary. “It is here. wait patiently. “If I once went up those stairs.” “How curious! – what is his name?” “The Abbe Faria. and so on progressively. the second. I should never have the courage to come down again. “Will you see the register at once.” “What is his folly?” “He fancies he possesses an immense treasure. He is now in his fifth year of captivity.” 153 . The first year he offered government a million of francs for his release.“Had M. and offer you five millions. he will ask to speak to you in private. de Villefort any cause of personal dislike to you?” “None. and his madness is less affecting than this one’s display of reason. and the inspector gazed curiously into the chamber of the “mad abbe.” said the inspector. and prayed earnestly.” “That is well. three. unlock the door.” asked the governor. 27.” “Ah. rely on the notes he has left concerning you?” “Entirely.” Dantes fell on his knees. Antoine.” “No. he was very kind to me. but this time a fresh inmate was left with Dantes – hope. this one is not like the other. two. The door closed. the third.

and continued his calculations until the flash of the torches lighted up with an unwonted glare the sombre walls of his cell. He was drawing in this circle geometrical lines.” “There. and wrapped it round him. I know not. He hastily seized the coverlet of his bed. “I am the Abbe Faria. like Milan and Florence. “it is just as I told you. why. He did not move at the sound of the door.” “Monsieur. and seemed as much absorbed in his problem as Archimedes was when the soldier of Marcellus slew him. “I. Piombino has become the capital of some French department. “I am sent here by government to visit the prison. I was arrested.” cried the abbe. now.” replied the abbe with an air of surprise – “I want nothing. I hope. born at Rome.” whispered the governor. then. “you have not the latest news from Italy?” 154 . toward the beginning of the year 1811. since then I have demanded my liberty from the Italian and French government. sat a man whose tattered garments scarcely covered him.” “Why from the French government?” “Because I was arrested at Piombino. he perceived with astonishment the number of persons present. “What is it you want?” said the inspector. and hear the requests of the prisoners.” continued the inspector.” “Ah. I was for twenty years Cardinal Spada’s secretary. that is different. and I presume that.” said the inspector. “and we shall understand each other.” continued the prisoner.” “Oh. in a circle traced with a fragment of plaster detached from the wall. raising his head.” “You do not understand.In the centre of the cell. monsieur.

passable for a dungeon. which was to make Italy a united kingdom.” continued the abbe. but. amounting to five millions. would possibly change Newton’s system. “although you have disturbed me in a most important calculation. on the whole. addressing Faria. “providence has changed this gigantic plan you advocate so warmly. the lodging is very unhealthful. “But. 155 . happy. “I would speak to you of a large sum.” returned the inspector with a smile.” whispered the governor.“My information dates from the day on which I was arrested. but a secret I have to reveal of the greatest importance.” “The food is the same as in other prisons. “It is for that reason I am delighted to see you. “What you ask is impossible.” returned the Abbe Faria.” “Very possibly. I presume that he has realized the dream of Machiavelli and Caesar Borgia. but to inquire if you have anything to ask or to complain of.” “We are coming to the point. – that is. and independent. monsieur.” continued he. very bad. which. but it is not that which I wish to speak of. “You knew him.” “It is the only means of rendering Italy strong.” “The very sum you named.” said the abbe.” returned the inspector.” “What did I tell you?” said the governor. only I am not come to discuss politics.” “Monsieur. Could you allow me a few words in private. “and as the emperor had created the kingdom of Rome for his infant son.” whispered the inspector in his turn. if it succeeded.

and I offer to sign an agreement with you. “keep them until you are liberated. the government is rich and does not want your treasures. the governor can be present.” “That proves. seeing that the inspector was about to depart.” said the inspector in a low tone. who having ears hear not. he seized the inspector’s hand. Had not government better profit by it? I will offer six millions. “I know beforehand what you are about to say. “I can tell you the story as well as he.” said he. it concerns your treasures. “Of course.” “Unfortunately. if they will only give me my liberty.” replied the inspector. with that acuteness of hearing peculiar to prisoners. Inspector.” cried he.” returned the abbe. in which I promise to lead you to the spot where you shall dig.“However. “had I not been told beforehand that this man was mad.” continued the governor. and if I deceive you.” The governor laughed. and I will content myself with the rest.” “On my word. and having eyes see not.” continued Faria. I should believe what he says. does it not?” Faria fixed his eyes on him with an expression that would have convinced any one else of his sanity. “But what if I am not liberated.” said the governor. for it has been dinned in my ears for the last four or five years. “of what else should I speak?” “Mr.” “My dear sir. “it is not absolutely necessary for us to be alone.” “I am not mad. “and am detained here until my death? this treasure will be lost. bring me here again. “that you are like those of Holy Writ.” replied Faria. – I ask no more. “The treasure I speak of really exists.” The abbe’s eyes glistened. “Is the spot far from here?” 156 .

” replied Faria.” And the abbe. I will stay here. and continued his calculations. you run no risk.” cried the abbe. and I will stay here while you go to the spot. “and the abbe’s plan has not even the merit of originality. “Monsieur.” replied the inspector impatiently. “If all the prisoners took it into their heads to travel a hundred leagues.” “You do not reply to my question.” Then turning to Faria – “I inquired if you are well fed?” said he. and awoke mad.“A hundred leagues. I will keep it for myself. “Or dreamed he was. perhaps?” said the inspector. “Swear to me. “Nor you to mine. “He was wealthy once. You refuse me my liberty. “to free me if what I tell you prove true.” “Are you well fed?” repeated the inspector. they would have a capital chance of escaping. so there is no chance of my escaping. resumed his place.” “It is not ill-planned. for.” replied the governor. “Counting his treasures. Faria replied to this sarcasm with a glance of profound contempt. and their guardians consented to accompany them.” “The scheme is well known. “What is he doing there?” said the inspector.” said the inspector. as I told you.” said the governor. “You will not accept my gold. The turnkey closed the door behind them.” 157 . casting away his coverlet. God will give it me. They went out.

but now. The inspector could not contend against this accusation. – “Nothing to be done. The very madness of the Abbe Faria. with a fragment of plaster. and the eye that scrutinizes their actions. Formerly they believed themselves sprung from Jupiter. would have accorded to the poor wretch. and this visit only increased the belief in his insanity. but nowadays they are not inviolable. where the doctor has no thought for man or mind in the mutilated being the jailer delivers to him. It has always been against the policy of despotic governments to suffer the victims of their persecutions to reappear. he simply wrote. They fear the ear that hears their orders. he would not have been here. “if he had been rich. he wrote the date. As the Inquisition rarely allowed its victims to be seen with their limbs distorted and their flesh lacerated by torture.” So the matter ended for the Abbe Faria.” This visit had infused new vigor into Dantes. condemned him to perpetual captivity.“After all. from whence. 158 . He remained in his cell. and found the following note concerning him: – Edmond Dantes: Violent Bonapartist. should it depart. took an active part in the return from Elba. the liberty he so earnestly prayed for. gone mad in prison. those treasure-seekers. and shielded by their birth. till then. 30th July. those desirers of the impossible. This note was in a different hand from the rest. forgotten the date. have neither courage nor desire.” said the inspector. it is conveyed to some gloomy hospital. The greatest watchfulness and care to be exercised. But the kings of modern times. Caligula or Nero. he examined the register. in exchange for his wealth. The inspector kept his word with Dantes. so madness is always concealed in its cell. restrained by the limits of mere probability. which showed that it had been added since his confinement. he had.

he decided that the inspector would do nothing until his return to Paris. it would have been too tedious to acquire the names of the prisoners. At the expiration of a year the governor was transferred. he had obtained charge of the fortress at Ham. 159 . and amongst them Dantes’ jailer. an illusion of the brain. then months – Dantes still waited.1816. A new governor arrived. He took with him several of his subordinates. three months passed away. This horrible place contained fifty cells. then six more. and Dantes began to fancy the inspector’s visit but a dream. and that he would not reach there until his circuit was finished. in order not to lose his reckoning again. and made a mark every day. he at first expected to be freed in a fortnight. he therefore fixed three months. Finally ten months and a half had gone by and no favorable change had taken place. he learned their numbers instead. and the unhappy young man was no longer called Edmond Dantes – he was now number 34. their inhabitants were designated by the numbers of their cell. This fortnight expired. Days and weeks passed away.

His requests were not granted. he had tried to speak when alone. he addressed his supplications. with the infamous costume. though rough and hardened by the constant sight of so much suffering. God is always the last resource. Dantes’ mind had revolted at the idea of assemblages of prisoners. The galley-slaves breathed the fresh air of heaven. in order to see some other face besides that of his jailer. not to God. but the sound of his voice terrified him. who ought to begin with God. more taciturn than the old one. for a change. Dantes passed through all the stages of torture natural to prisoners in suspense. however disadvantageous. was still a change. They were very happy. Dantes spoke for the sake of hearing his own voice. then he began to doubt his own innocence. At the bottom of his heart he had often had a feeling of pity for this unhappy young man who suffered so. and murderers. and saw each other. and then. even though mute. He was sustained at first by that pride of conscious innocence which is the sequence to hope. made up of thieves. He accustomed himself to speaking to the new jailer. do not have any hope in him till they have exhausted all other means of deliverance. but to man.Chapter 15: Number 34 and Number 27. and writing materials. to have fresh air. He besought the jailer one day to let him have a companion. but still. although the latter was. he sighed for the galleys. was yet a man. to speak to a man. Often. and would afford him some amusement. and he laid the request of number 34 before the governor. were it even the mad abbe. vagabonds. and refused 160 . Unfortunates. He now wished to be amongst them. but he went on asking all the same. the chain. He entreated to be allowed to walk about. and the brand on the shoulder. Dantes asked to be removed from his present dungeon into another. The jailer. was something. if possible. which justified in some measure the governor’s belief in his mental alienation. books. but the latter sapiently imagined that Dantes wished to conspire or attempt an escape. before his captivity. relaxing his sentiment of pride.

that would have exalted in thus revisiting the past. dashed himself furiously against the walls of his prison. bring to life the nations that had perished. and at the end of every prayer introduced the entreaty oftener addressed to man than to God: “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us. proposed tasks to accomplish. and that pass before the eye glowing with celestial colors in Martin’s Babylonian pictures. by an unheard-of fatality. Dantes was a man of great simplicity of thought. he whose past life was so short. and he then turned to God.” Yet in spite of his earnest prayers. he could not. for in prosperity prayers seem but a mere medley of words. was imprisoned like an eagle in a cage. Dantes remained a prisoner. Nineteen years of light to reflect upon in eternal darkness! No distraction could come to his aid. and without education. and rebuild the ancient cities so vast and stupendous in the light of the imagination. and prayed aloud. no longer terrified at the sound of his own voice. 161 . Dantes uttered blasphemies that made his jailer recoil with horror. for he fell into a sort of ecstasy. traverse in mental vision the history of the ages. without apparent cause. his energetic spirit. He could not do this. wreaked his anger upon everything. and chiefly upon himself. returned. He clung to one idea – that of his happiness. in the solitude of his dungeon. and discovered a new meaning in every word. whose present so melancholy. Then gloom settled heavily upon him. Rage supplanted religious fervor. He laid every action of his life before the Almighty. as the implacable Ugolino devours the skull of Archbishop Roger in the Inferno of Dante.his request. All the pious ideas that had been so long forgotten. therefore. destroyed. devoured it (so to speak). and his future so doubtful. he recollected the prayers his mother had taught him. he considered and reconsidered this idea. until misfortune comes and the unhappy sufferer first understands the meaning of the sublime language in which he invokes the pity of heaven! He prayed. Dantes had exhausted all human resources.

and not the vengeance of heaven. with their train of gloomy spectres. however. fled from his cell when the angel of death seemed about to enter. Soon the fury of the waves and the sight of the 162 . and if punishment were the end in view other tortures than death must be invented. By dint of constantly dwelling on the idea that tranquillity was death.” said he. and. looking forward with terror to his future existence. at least the boon of unconsciousness. that had thus plunged him into the deepest misery. he began to reflect on suicide. the sea rage and foam. “in my voyages. beating the two horizons with its wings. less terrible than the sufferings that precede or the punishment that possibly will follow. and his struggles but tend to hasten his destruction. at the bottom of which lie darkness and obscurity. who. but he who unwarily ventures within its embrace finds himself struggling with a monster that would drag him down to perdition. Dantes reviewed his past life with composure. because after torture came death. All his sorrows. Edmond found some solace in these ideas. a straw. This state of mental anguish is. if not repose. Unhappy he. and after death. Then I felt that my vessel was a vain refuge. chose that middle line that seemed to afford him a refuge. or a breath of air that annoyed him. There is a sort of consolation at the contemplation of the yawning abyss. He consigned his unknown persecutors to the most horrible tortures he could imagine. broods over ideas like these! Before him is a dead sea that stretches in azure calm before the eye. all his sufferings. the storm arise. led to paroxysms of fury. “Sometimes. – a grain of sand. all is over. that trembled and shook before the tempest. on the brink of misfortune.so that the least thing. Once thus ensnared. and found them all insufficient. Then the letter that Villefort had showed to him recurred to his mind. and every line gleamed forth in fiery letters on the wall like the mene tekel upharsin of Belshazzar. He told himself that it was the enmity of man. unless the protecting hand of God snatch him thence. I have seen the heavens overcast. like a monstrous bird. when I was a man and commanded other men. and.

because I was unwilling that I. and began that day to carry out his resolve. of tainted fish. then his dungeon seemed less sombre. like a worn-out garment. He resolved to adopt the second. and found existence almost supportable. and at last with regret. a creature made for the service of God. because he felt that he could throw it off at pleasure. But I did so because I was happy. through the barred aperture. then with deliberation. and they will think that I have eaten them. I have lost all that bound me to life. and death then terrified me. Nearly four years had passed away.” No sooner had this idea taken possession of him than he became more composed. and gazed thoughtfully at the morsel of bad meat. and I used all my skill and intelligence as a man and a sailor to struggle against the wrath of God. “I will cast them out of the window. of black and mouldy bread. as I fall asleep when I have paced three thousand times round my cell. because I had not courted death. arranged his couch to the best of his power. he would not die by what seemed an infamous death. I die exhausted and broken-spirited. But now it is different.” He kept his word. now acceptable. twice a day he cast out. and fearful of changing his mind. Dantes had always entertained the greatest horror of pirates. I die after my own manner. It was the last yearning for life contending with the resolution of despair. death smiles and invites me to repose. He was 163 .” thought he. Hunger made viands once repugnant. he held the plate in his hand for an hour at a time. “When my morning and evening meals are brought. or refuse food and die of starvation. his prospects less desperate. because to be cast upon a bed of rocks and seaweed seemed terrible. should serve for food to the gulls and ravens. Dantes said.sharp rocks announced the approach of death. But the first was repugnant to him. who are hung up to the yard-arm. at the end of the second he had ceased to mark the lapse of time. “I wish to die. he had taken an oath to die. the provisions his jailer brought him – at first gayly. He could hang himself with his handkerchief to the window bars. Two methods of selfdestruction were at his disposal. Nothing but the recollection of his oath gave him strength to proceed. ate little and slept less.” and had chosen the manner of his death.

Edmond raised his head and listened. and had sent this noise to warn him on the very brink of the abyss. at last. the gnawing pain at his stomach had ceased. It was the twilight of that mysterious country called Death! Suddenly. doubtless he was deceived. as if made by a huge claw. he refused himself. The next morning he could not see or hear. No. when he closed his eyes he saw myriads of lights dancing before them like the will-o’-the-wisps that play about the marshes. Edmond hoped he was dying. Although weakened. and restore him to liberty? Then he raised to his lips the repast that. Edmond heard a hollow sound in the wall against which he was lying. he had not sufficient strength to rise and cast his supper out of the loophole. So many loathsome animals inhabited the prison. but he thought of his oath. that their noise did not. no. It was a continual scratching. the young man’s brain instantly responded to the idea that haunts all prisoners – liberty! It seemed to him that heaven had at length taken pity on him. or whether the noise was really louder than usual. or some iron instrument attacking the stones. awake him. and it was but one of those dreams that forerun death! 164 . like a voluntary Tantalus. Perhaps one of those beloved ones he had so often thought of was thinking of him. about nine o’clock in the evening. and striving to diminish the distance that separated them. Thus the day passed away. and he would not break it. Edmond felt a sort of stupor creeping over him which brought with it a feeling almost of content. in general. a powerful tooth. but whether abstinence had quickened his faculties. the jailer feared he was dangerously ill. He persisted until. What unforseen events might not open his prison door.still young – he was only four or five and twenty – he had nearly fifty years to live. his thirst had abated.

and the sound became more and more distinct. but might he not by this means destroy hopes far more important than the short-lived satisfaction of his own curiosity? Unfortunately. grumbling and complaining. if I were only there to help him!” Suddenly another idea took possession of his mind.” thought he. Dantes raised himself up and began to talk about everything. and all was silent. had not answered him when he inquired what was the matter with him. Suddenly the jailer entered. The jailer brought him his breakfast. about the coldness of his dungeon. Edmond was intensely interested. he fancied that Dantes was delirious. and placing the food on the rickety table. It was easy to ascertain this. “it is some prisoner who is striving to obtain his freedom. he withdrew. and during the four days that he had been carrying out his purpose. Edmond’s brain was still so feeble that he could not bend his thoughts to anything in particular. and watch his countenance as he listened. and so destroy a ray of something like hope that soothed his last moments. but how could he risk the question? It was easy to call his jailer’s attention to the noise. It lasted nearly three hours.Edmond still heard the sound. 165 . he then heard a noise of something falling. Some hours afterwards it began again. Edmond listened. Oh. “There can be no doubt about it. nearer and more distinct. who out of kindness of heart had brought broth and white bread for his prisoner. about the bad quality of the food. that it was scarcely capable of hope – the idea that the noise was made by workmen the governor had ordered to repair the neighboring dungeon. in order to have an excuse for speaking louder. and wearying the patience of his jailer. For a week since he had resolved to die. but now the jailer might hear the noise and put an end to it. Edmond had not spoken to the attendant. and turned his face to the wall when he looked too curiously at him. Fortunately. so used to misfortune.

and no sound was heard from the wall – all was silent there. and returned to his couch – he did not wish to die. an hour passed. Edmond replaced on the table the bread he was about to devour. he ate these listening anxiously for the sound. and he will cease to work. If. Then he said to himself. he will cease. as if by magic. shaking the iron bars of the 166 . and not begin again until he thinks every one is asleep. and strengthen his thoughts by reasoning. Edmond listened intently. Edmond swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread and water. it is a prisoner. If it is a workman. raised the vessel to his lips. in order to find out who is knocking. and. but as his occupation is sanctioned by the governor. on the contrary. and drank off the contents with a feeling of indescribable pleasure. but without compromising anybody. found himself well-nigh recovered. He soon felt that his ideas became again collected – he could think. thanks to the vigor of his constitution. I need but knock against the wall. In the morning the jailer brought him fresh provisions – he had already devoured those of the previous day. At the first blow the sound ceased. detached a stone. “I must put this to the test. rose.” Edmond rose again. and with it knocked against the wall where the sound came. He had often heard that shipwrecked persons had died through having eagerly devoured too much food. he went to a corner of his dungeon. The night passed in perfect silence. “It is a prisoner. the noise I make will alarm him. he will soon resume it.He saw but one means of restoring lucidity and clearness to his judgment. walking round and round his cell. The day passed away in utter silence – night came without recurrence of the noise. He struck thrice. Full of hope. Edmond did not close his eyes. but this time his legs did not tremble. staggered towards it. He turned his eyes towards the soup which the jailer had brought.” said Edmond joyfully. and why he does so. and his sight was clear. two hours passed.

Three days passed – seventy-two long tedious hours which he counted off by minutes! At length one evening. with his ear for the hundredth time at the wall. a pail. He moved away.loophole. and then went back and listened. The bed had iron clamps. but that had been removed. which was to break the jug. and with one of the sharp fragments attack the wall. walked up and down his cell to collect his thoughts. and a jug. penetrate the moist cement. He began by moving his bed. and had substituted a lever for a chisel. and so preparing himself for his future destiny. the prisoner had discovered the danger. Dantes had but one resource. The table and chair had nothing. and grew impatient at the prudence of the prisoner. Something was at work on the other side of the wall. the window grating was of iron. as the jailer was visiting him for the last time that night. who did not guess he had been disturbed by a captive as anxious for liberty as himself. a table. Dantes. a chair. 167 . the pail had once possessed a handle. but they were screwed to the wood. All his furniture consisted of a bed. At intervals he listened to learn if the noise had not begun again. and displace a stone. Edmond determined to assist the indefatigable laborer. and it would have required a screw-driver to take them off. The matter was no longer doubtful. and looked around for anything with which he could pierce the wall. and it broke in pieces. He saw nothing. Encouraged by this discovery. he had no knife or sharp instrument. He let the jug fall on the floor. restoring vigor and agility to his limbs by exercise. but he had too often assured himself of its solidity. fancied he heard an almost imperceptible movement among the stones.

but at the end of half an hour he had scraped off a handful. among which. All night he heard the subterranean workman. Dantes told him that the jug had fallen from his hands while he was drinking. without giving himself the trouble to remove the fragments of the broken one. and despondency. and he soon felt that he was working against something very hard. and exposing the stone-work. who continued to mine his way. but in the darkness he could not do much. he pushed back his bed. that he had labored uselessly the previous evening in attacking the stone instead of removing the plaster that surrounded it. in removing the cement. prayer. It was one of these he had uncovered. The prisoner reproached himself with not having thus employed the hours he had passed in vain hopes. leaving the rest on the floor. a passage twenty feet long and two feet broad. The breaking of his jug was too natural an accident to excite suspicion. and then. and Dantes was able to break it off – in small morsels. supposing that the rock was not encountered. and the jailer went grumblingly to fetch another. saw by the faint light that penetrated into his cell. and waited for day. Dantes heard joyfully the key grate in the lock. He returned speedily.Dantes concealed two or three of the sharpest fragments in his bed. to give strength to the structure. with the utmost precaution. The damp had rendered it friable. advised the prisoner to be more careful. might be formed. Edmond had all the night to work in. what might he not have accomplished? In three days he had succeeded. The wall was built of rough stones. it is true. During the six years that he had been imprisoned. 168 . Day came. a mathematician might have calculated that in two years. he listened until the sound of steps died away. hastily displacing his bed. blocks of hewn stone were at intervals imbedded. and which he must remove from its socket. the jailer entered. and departed.

Dantes would have given ten years of his life in exchange for it. as it spared him the necessity of making another trip. Was he to be thus stopped at the beginning. therefore. according as the turnkey gave it to him or to his companion first. Dantes was beside himself with joy.” said Dantes. and after waiting an hour. the jailer. He was wrong to leave it there. which thus served for every day. and the perspiration dried on his forehead.Dantes strove to do this with his nails. The jailer was accustomed to pour the contents of the saucepan into Dantes’ plate. took the handle of the saucepan. Dantes’ entire dinner service consisted of one plate – there was no alternative. stepped on it and broke it. but they were too weak. and employed it as a 169 . He rapidly devoured his food. he paused. but the jailer was wrong not to have looked before him. “Leave the saucepan. after eating his soup with a wooden spoon. and after an hour of useless toil. and was he to wait inactive until his fellow workman had completed his task? Suddenly an idea occurred to him – he smiled. The fragments of the jug broke. and Dantes. “you can take it away when you bring me my breakfast. he removed his bed. only grumbled. lest the jailer should change his mind and return. Now when evening came Dantes put his plate on the ground near the door.” This advice was to the jailer’s taste. or half empty. Then he looked about for something to pour the soup into. He left the saucepan. inserted the point between the hewn stone and rough stones of the wall. as he entered. The jailer always brought Dantes’ soup in an iron saucepan. washed the plate. for Dantes had noticed that it was either quite full. This time he could not blame Dantes. The handle of this saucepan was of iron. The jailer. this saucepan contained soup for both prisoners.

So for the future I hope you will not be so destructive. “Well. if all the prisoners followed your example. he would go to his neighbor. Then. the turnkey retired. The breakfast consisted of a piece of bread. Dantes wished to ascertain whether his neighbor had really ceased to work.lever. and pour your soup into that. and placed it in its accustomed place. then you make me break your plate. together with the fish – for thrice a week the prisoners were deprived of meat. At the end of an hour the stone was extricated from the wall.” Dantes raised his eyes to heaven and clasped his hands beneath the coverlet. Dantes sighed. Having poured out the soup. He felt more gratitude for the possession of this piece of iron than he had ever felt for anything. as it had been for the last three days. I shall leave you the saucepan. and covered it with earth. He listened – all was silent. pushed his bed against the wall. he toiled on all the night without being discouraged. no matter. and lay down. All day he toiled on untiringly.” replied the turnkey. First you break your jug. but after two or three hours he encountered an 170 . This would have been a method of reckoning time. the jailer entered and placed the bread on the table. carried it into the corner of his cell. he continued to work without ceasing. “No. When the hour for his jailer’s visit arrived. however. wishing to make the best use of his time while he had the means of labor. leaving a cavity a foot and a half in diameter. and by the evening he had succeeded in extracting ten handfuls of plaster and fragments of stone. this was a greater reason for proceeding – if his neighbor would not come to him. had not Dantes long ceased to do so. don’t you intend to bring me another plate?” said Dantes. At the dawn of day he replaced the stone. Dantes straightened the handle of the saucepan as well as he could. it was evident that his neighbor distrusted him. Dantes carefully collected the plaster. the government would be ruined. However. “you destroy everything. He had noticed. A slight oscillation showed Dantes that all went well. The turnkey poured his ration of soup into it. that the prisoner on the other side had ceased to labor.

“An unhappy prisoner. sounded hollow and sepulchral in the young man’s ears. the hole Dantes had made. or rather blocked up. This beam crossed. Who are you?” “Who are you?” said the voice. The iron made no impression.” Edmond had not heard any one speak save his jailer for four or five years. deadened by the distance. but met with a smooth surface. though the sound of your voice terrifies me.” “Your profession?” 171 . “Ah. and he rose to his knees. and.” said he. “speak again. after having deprived me of death. my God. who made no hesitation in answering.” replied Dantes. After having deprived me of my liberty. after having recalled me to existence. and a jailer is no man to a prisoner – he is a living door. “I hear a human voice.” “Your name?” “Edmond Dantes. and found that it was a beam. “In the name of heaven. Dantes touched it. “Of what country?” “A Frenchman. The unhappy young man had not thought of this. to dig above or under it. therefore. have pity on me.” cried Dantes. “I have so earnestly prayed to you. “O my God. my God!” murmured he. a barrier of flesh and blood adding strength to restraints of oak and iron. it was necessary.obstacle. and do not let me die in despair!” “Who talks of God and despair at the same time?” said a voice that seemed to come from beneath the earth. that I hoped my prayers had been heard. Edmond’s hair stood on end.

” “How long have you been here?” “Since the 28th of February. this man had been four years longer than himself in prison.” “How is it concealed?” “Behind my bed.” “But of what are you accused?” “Of having conspired to aid the emperor’s return.” said the voice.” “Your crime?” “I am innocent.“A sailor. 1815. and was sent to the Island of Elba.” “What! For the emperor’s return? – the emperor is no longer on the throne. But how long have you been here that you are ignorant of all this?” “Since 1811.” 172 .” Dantes shuddered.” “Has your bed been moved since you have been a prisoner?” “No. then?” “He abdicated at Fontainebleau in 1814. “only tell me how high up is your excavation?” “On a level with the floor. “Do not dig any more.

gained one of the islands near here – the Isle de Daume or the Isle de Tiboulen – and then I should have been safe. “I have made a mistake owing to an error in my plans. I took the wrong angle.” “But then you would be close to the sea?” “That is what I hoped.“What does your chamber open on?” “A corridor. “Oh.” “Alas!” murmured the voice.” “And supposing you had succeeded?” “I should have thrown myself into the sea. do not work any more. at least. I took the wall you are mining for the outer wall of the fortress. but now all is lost. stop up your excavation carefully. what is the matter?” cried Dantes.” “Could you have swum so far?” “Heaven would have given me strength. and wait until you hear from me.” “And the corridor?” “On a court.” “All?” “Yes.” “Tell me. who you are?” 173 . and have come out fifteen feet from where I intended.

“Oh. If you do. you will come to me. guessing instinctively that this man meant to abandon him. no. for I have not counted the years I have been here. for I have got to the end of my strength. We will escape.” “I do not know my age.” “How old are you? Your voice is that of a young man. but I conjure you do not abandon me. Edmond fancied he heard a bitter laugh resounding from the depths.” said Dantes. I am a Christian. “I swear to you by him who died for us that naught shall induce me to breathe one syllable to my jailers. I swear to you. Wait. rather than betray you. I would allow myself to be hacked in pieces!” “You have done well to speak to me. All I do know is. and leave you. 27. and if we cannot escape we will talk. no. but your age reassures me.” cried Dantes. for I was about to form another plan. I will not forget you.” “You mistrust me. “I swear to you again. “at that age he cannot be a traitor. 1815. I will give you the signal. that I was just nineteen when I was arrested. and ask for my assistance. You must love somebody?” 174 .” “But you will not leave me.” “Not quite twenty-six!” murmured the voice. or you will let me come to you.“I am – I am No.” cried Dantes. that I will dash my brains out against the wall. and you will have my death to reproach yourself with. the 28th of February. you of those whom you love. and I of those whom I love.” “Oh. then.” “How long?” “I must calculate our chances.

he feared that the emotion of his voice would betray him. but God alone knows if she loves me still. whom he loved already. At the slightest noise he bounded towards the door. I only love him and a young girl called Mercedes. I am sure.” These few words were uttered with an accent that left no doubt of his sincerity.” returned the voice. and pushed his bed back against the wall. The jailer came in the evening. I have a father who is seventy if he yet lives. and then his mind was made up – when the jailer moved his bed and stooped to examine the opening. Once or twice the thought crossed his mind that he might be separated from this unknown. He sat down occasionally on his bed. All day Dantes walked up and down his cell. about to regain his liberty. If you are young. Dantes hoped that his neighbor would profit by the silence to address him. are you going mad again?” Dantes did not answer. pressing his hand on his heart. I shall love you as I loved my father. “to-morrow. I will be your comrade. but he was about to die of grief and despair when this miraculous noise recalled him to life. My father has not yet forgotten me. Dantes was on his bed. dispersed the fragments with the same precaution as before. at the worst. he would have a companion. perhaps. and prayers where two or three are gathered together invoke the mercy of heaven.” “It is well. he would kill him with his water jug.” “Then you will love me. He would be condemned to die. I will be your son. He would no longer be alone. He then gave himself up to his happiness. if you are old. for the jailer said. I am alone in the world. Night came. Doubtless there was a strange expression in his eyes. He was. “Come.“No. Dantes rose. and captivity that is shared is but half captivity. Plaints made in common are almost prayers. It seemed to him that thus he better guarded the unfinished opening. but he 175 . The jailer went away shaking his head.

” “Is your jailer gone?” “Yes. however. and lastly the body of a man. suddenly gave way. who sprang lightly into his cell. while a mass of stones and earth disappeared in a hole that opened beneath the aperture he himself had formed. The next morning.was mistaken.” said Dantes. so that we have twelve hours before us.” In a moment that part of the floor on which Dantes was resting his two hands. “Oh. this instant. first the head. yes.” “I can work. he threw himself on his knees. he drew back smartly. 176 . he heard three knocks. the depth of which it was impossible to measure. then?” said the voice. Then from the bottom of this passage. he saw appear. I entreat you. then the shoulders. just as he removed his bed from the wall. yes. “Is it you?” said he. as he knelt with his head in the opening. “I am here. “he will not return until the evening.

Chapter 16: A Learned Italian. he said. and the bold outline of his strongly marked features. His thin face. Dantes almost carried him towards the window. he stooped and raised the stone easily in spite of its weight. – 177 . He received the enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident pleasure. while the garments that hung about him were so ragged that one could only guess at the pattern upon which they had originally been fashioned. deeply furrowed by care. “Let us first see. although he must at that moment have been suffering bitterly to find another dungeon where he had fondly reckoned on discovering a means of regaining his liberty. betokened a man more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties than his physical strength. penetrating eye. Seizing in his arms the friend so long and ardently desired. with hair blanched rather by suffering and sorrow than by age. but a certain briskness and appearance of vigor in his movements made it probable that he was aged more from captivity than the course of time. Large drops of perspiration were now standing on his brow. and a long (and still black) beard reaching down to his breast. He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly welcome. He had a deep-set. “whether it is possible to remove the traces of my entrance here – our future tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely ignorant of it.” Advancing to the opening. in order to obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the imperfect light that struggled through the grating. fitting it into its place. almost buried beneath the thick gray eyebrow. as though his chilled affections were rekindled and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent. The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty-five years. He was a man of small stature. then.” said he.

“Do not speak so loud. It frequently occurs in a state prison like this. with a handle made of beechwood.“You removed this stone very carelessly. unfortunately.” exclaimed Dantes. that is about the distance that separates your chamber from mine. to reach the outer wall. – a chisel. a distance of about fifty feet.” “That makes no difference.” “And you say that you dug your way a distance of fifty feet to get here?” “I do. how I should like to see these products of your industry and patience. here is my chisel.” “Why. “do you possess any?” “I made myself some. and lever.” “Fifty feet!” responded Dantes. with astonishment. and with the exception of a file.” “Oh. “And with what did you contrive to make that?” inquired Dantes. but I suppose you had no tools to aid you. and throw myself into the sea. I 178 . that persons are stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely to overhear the conversation of the prisoners. “With one of the clamps of my bedstead. instead of taking an ellipsis of forty feet. for want of the necessary geometrical instruments to calculate my scale of proportion. only. in the first place. pierce through it. young man – don’t speak so loud. I made it fifty. I expected. and this very tool has sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I came hither.” “But they believe I am shut up alone here. as I told you. he displayed a sharp strong blade. I did not curve aright.” “Well. I have all that are necessary. pincers. almost terrified.” So saying.

The young man obeyed. sprang up with an agility by no means to be expected in a person of his years. so as to be able to command a perfect view from top to bottom. for I find that the corridor looks into a courtyard filled with soldiers. duly furnished with the requisite tools. he dragged the table beneath the window. now where does it face?” The wall of which he spoke was the one in which was fixed the loophole by which light was admitted to the chamber. and. light and steady on his feet as a cat or a lizard. bending double. furnished with three iron bars. for the ceiling of the dungeon prevented him from holding himself erect. instead of going beneath it. which gradually diminished in size as it approached the outside. then. there are three others – do you know anything of their situation?” “This one is built against the solid rock. climbed from the table to the outstretched hands of Dantes. he managed to slip his head between the upper bars of the window.” said Dantes. This loophole. The fourth and last side of your cell faces on – faces on – stop a minute. whom as yet Dantes knew only by the number of his cell. and. This adjoins the lower part of the governor’s apartments. was. to an opening through which a child could not have passed. My labor is all in vain. for better security. As the stranger asked the question. where we must necessarily be recaptured. as many years to perforate it. and it would take ten experienced miners. and from them to his shoulders. we should only get into some lock-up cellars.” “That’s true. “but the corridor you speak of only bounds one side of my cell. mounted on the table. 179 . placed his back securely against the wall and held out both hands. however. and were we to work our way through. kept along the corridor on which your chamber opens. “Climb up. so as to quiet all apprehensions even in the mind of the most suspicious jailer as to the possibility of a prisoner’s escape. The stranger. divining the wishes of his companion.” said he to Dantes.have.

” answered the elder prisoner. an air of profound resignation spread itself over his careworn countenance.” 180 . “I thought so!” and sliding from the shoulders of Dantes as dextrously as he had ascended.” “Well?” inquired Dantes. who and what you are?” said he at length. “Tell me. “Yes. I saw the soldier’s shape and the top of his musket. saying. where patrols are continually passing. “never have I met with so remarkable a person as yourself.” “Are you quite sure of that?” “Certain. “What was it that you thought?” asked the young man anxiously. This side of your chamber looks out upon a kind of open gallery. that made me draw in my head so quickly. powerless to aid you in any way.” said he at length. you feel any curiosity respecting one. “it is so. I entreat of you.” “Willingly. indeed. he nimbly leaped from the table to the ground. The elder prisoner pondered the matter. “if. “the will of God be done!” and as the old man slowly pronounced those words. alas. and sentries keep watch day and night. Dantes gazed on the man who could thus philosophically resign hopes so long and ardently nourished with an astonishment mingled with admiration.” pursued the young man eagerly – “Then.” answered the stranger.An instant afterwards he hastily drew back his head. for I was fearful he might also see me. “You perceive then the utter impossibility of escaping through your dungeon?” “Then. now. in his turn descending from the table.

had bestowed on him a son.” continued he. “Then listen. I was very far then from expecting the change you have just informed me of. and surveying him with the kindling gaze of a prophet.?” “No. then liberty.” said he.” replied Faria. Ah. “we are prisoners... Charles II. previously to which I had been confined for three years in the fortress of Fenestrelle. and there are even moments when my mental vision transports me beyond these walls. then a constitution. “you are young. this colossus of power would be overthrown.” “The brother of Louis XVII. my friend!” said the abbe. named king of Rome even in his cradle. and raise up him who was so abased?” Dantes’ whole attention was riveted on a man who could thus forget his own misfortunes while occupying himself with the destinies of others. turning towards Dantes.” 181 . namely.” “Probably. “‘Twill be the same as it was in England. After Charles I. Cromwell. “I am the Abbe Faria. In the year 1811 I was transferred to Piedmont in France.. if ever I get out of prison!” “True. after Cromwell. and have been imprisoned as you know in this Chateau d’If since the year 1811. that four years afterwards. a stadtholder who becomes a king. Then new concessions to the people. It was at this period I learned that the destiny which seemed subservient to every wish formed by Napoleon. and then some son-in-law or relation. “Yes. but I forget this sometimes.! How inscrutable are the ways of providence – for what great and mysterious purpose has it pleased heaven to abase the man once so elevated. yes. Then who reigns in France at this moment – Napoleon II. you can console and support me by the strength of your own powerful mind. Louis XVIII. and I fancy myself at liberty. Pray let me know who you really are?” The stranger smiled a melancholy smile. and then James II. some Prince of Orange.“Say not so. you will see all this come to pass.

each held by some weak or tyrannical ruler. he knew nothing. but of Clement VII. lastly. because I fancied I had found my Caesar Borgia in a crowned simpleton. “Well. at length he said. and. and Alexander VI.“But wherefore are you here?” “Because in 1807 I dreamed of the very plan Napoleon tried to realize in 1811. “Are you not. I sought to form one large. compact. Italy seems fated to misfortune. Dantes could not understand a man risking his life for such matters. don’t you?” “I did not like to say so. who feigned to enter into my views only to betray me. “let me answer your question in full. because. “the priest who here in the Chateau d’If is generally thought to be – ill?” “Mad. and Clement VII. but it will never succeed now. I should be promoted to the honor of making sport for the children.. for many years permitted to amuse the different visitors with what is said to be my insanity. smiling.” answered Dantes. It was the plan of Alexander VI. and powerful empire. – “Then you abandon all hope of escape?” 182 . in all probability. inasmuch as he had seen and spoken with him. by acknowledging that I am the poor mad prisoner of the Chateau d’If.” he asked. you mean. I desired to alter the political face of Italy. like Machiavelli. and Napoleon was unable to complete his work.” And the old man bowed his head. for they attempted it fruitlessly. and instead of allowing it to be split up into a quantity of petty principalities. and.” resumed Faria with a bitter smile. Napoleon certainly he knew something of. if such innocent beings could be found in an abode devoted like this to suffering and despair. then.” Dantes remained for a short time mute and motionless.

some things which appear so impossible that the mind does not dwell on them for an instant. Consider also that I fully believed I had accomplished the end and aim of my undertaking.” Dantes held down his head. my hopes are forever dashed from me. that you talk of beginning over again. and now. that I scarcely think it would be possible to add another handful of dust without leading to discovery. at the moment when I reckoned upon success. by night-time I had contrived to carry away a square inch of this hard-bound cement.” “Nay. The abbe sank upon Edmond’s bed. No. be not discouraged. but the well is now so completely choked up. To undermine the ground for fifty feet – to devote three years to a labor which. while Edmond himself remained standing. it shows how little notion you can have of all it has cost me to effect a purpose so unexpectedly frustrated. There are. and throw the fruits of my labor into the hollow part of it. changed by ages into a substance unyielding as the stones themselves. for which I had so exactly husbanded my strength as to make it just hold out to the termination of my enterprise. that the other might not see how joy at the thought of having a companion outweighed the sympathy he felt for the failure of the abbe’s plans. if successful. then to conceal the mass of earth and rubbish I dug up. hard as granite itself. Escape had never once occurred to him. and I consider it impious to attempt that which the Almighty evidently does not approve. I was four years making the tools I possess.“I perceive its utter impossibility. I was compelled to break through a staircase. then what toil and fatigue has it not been to remove huge stones I should once have deemed impossible to loosen. In the first place. would conduct you to a precipice 183 . Would it not be expecting too much to hope to succeed at your first attempt? Why not try to find an opening in another direction from that which has so unfortunately failed?” “Alas. I repeat again. indeed. and have been two years scraping and digging out earth. considering my labor well repaid if. Whole days have I passed in these Titanic efforts. that nothing shall induce me to renew attempts evidently at variance with the Almighty’s pleasure.

overhanging the sea – to plunge into the waves from the height of fifty, sixty, perhaps a hundred feet, at the risk of being dashed to pieces against the rocks, should you have been fortunate enough to have escaped the fire of the sentinels; and even, supposing all these perils past, then to have to swim for your life a distance of at least three miles ere you could reach the shore – were difficulties so startling and formidable that Dantes had never even dreamed of such a scheme, resigning himself rather to death. But the sight of an old man clinging to life with so desperate a courage, gave a fresh turn to his ideas, and inspired him with new courage. Another, older and less strong than he, had attempted what he had not had sufficient resolution to undertake, and had failed only because of an error in calculation. This same person, with almost incredible patience and perseverance, had contrived to provide himself with tools requisite for so unparalleled an attempt. Another had done all this; why, then, was it impossible to Dantes? Faria had dug his way through fifty feet, Dantes would dig a hundred; Faria, at the age of fifty, had devoted three years to the task; he, who was but half as old, would sacrifice six; Faria, a priest and savant, had not shrunk from the idea of risking his life by trying to swim a distance of three miles to one of the islands – Daume, Rattonneau, or Lemaire; should a hardy sailer, an experienced diver, like himself, shrink from a similar task; should he, who had so often for mere amusement’s sake plunged to the bottom of the sea to fetch up the bright coral branch, hesitate to entertain the same project? He could do it in an hour, and how many times had he, for pure pastime, continued in the water for more than twice as long! At once Dantes resolved to follow the brave example of his energetic companion, and to remember that what has once been done may be done again. After continuing some time in profound meditation, the young man suddenly exclaimed, “I have found what you were in search of!” Faria started: “Have you, indeed?” cried he, raising his head with quick anxiety; “pray, let me know what it is you have discovered?”

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“The corridor through which you have bored your way from the cell you occupy here, extends in the same direction as the outer gallery, does it not?” “It does.” “And is not above fifteen feet from it?” “About that.” “Well, then, I will tell you what we must do. We must pierce through the corridor by forming a side opening about the middle, as it were the top part of a cross. This time you will lay your plans more accurately; we shall get out into the gallery you have described; kill the sentinel who guards it, and make our escape. All we require to insure success is courage, and that you possess, and strength, which I am not deficient in; as for patience, you have abundantly proved yours – you shall now see me prove mine.” “One instant, my dear friend,” replied the abbe; “it is clear you do not understand the nature of the courage with which I am endowed, and what use I intend making of my strength. As for patience, I consider that I have abundantly exercised that in beginning every morning the task of the night before, and every night renewing the task of the day. But then, young man (and I pray of you to give me your full attention), then I thought I could not be doing anything displeasing to the Almighty in trying to set an innocent being at liberty – one who had committed no offence, and merited not condemnation.” “And have your notions changed?” asked Dantes with much surprise; “do you think yourself more guilty in making the attempt since you have encountered me?” “No; neither do I wish to incur guilt. Hitherto I have fancied myself merely waging war against circumstances, not men. I have thought it no sin to bore through a wall, or destroy a staircase; but I cannot so easily 185

persuade myself to pierce a heart or take away a life.” A slight movement of surprise escaped Dantes. “Is it possible,” said he, “that where your liberty is at stake you can allow any such scruple to deter you from obtaining it?” “Tell me,” replied Faria, “what has hindered you from knocking down your jailer with a piece of wood torn from your bedstead, dressing yourself in his clothes, and endeavoring to escape?” “Simply the fact that the idea never occurred to me,” answered Dantes. “Because,” said the old man, “the natural repugnance to the commission of such a crime prevented you from thinking of it; and so it ever is because in simple and allowable things our natural instincts keep us from deviating from the strict line of duty. The tiger, whose nature teaches him to delight in shedding blood, needs but the sense of smell to show him when his prey is within his reach, and by following this instinct he is enabled to measure the leap necessary to permit him to spring on his victim; but man, on the contrary, loathes the idea of blood – it is not alone that the laws of social life inspire him with a shrinking dread of taking life; his natural construction and physiological formation” – Dantes was confused and silent at this explanation of the thoughts which had unconsciously been working in his mind, or rather soul; for there are two distinct sorts of ideas, those that proceed from the head and those that emanate from the heart. “Since my imprisonment,” said Faria, “I have thought over all the most celebrated cases of escape on record. They have rarely been successful. Those that have been crowned with full success have been long meditated upon, and carefully arranged; such, for instance, as the escape of the Duc de Beaufort from the Chateau de Vincennes, that of the Abbe Dubuquoi from For l’Eveque; of Latude from the Bastille. Then there are those for which chance sometimes affords opportunity, and those are the best of all. 186

Let us, therefore, wait patiently for some favorable moment, and when it presents itself, profit by it.” “Ah,” said Dantes, “you might well endure the tedious delay; you were constantly employed in the task you set yourself, and when weary with toil, you had your hopes to refresh and encourage you.” “I assure you,” replied the old man, “I did not turn to that source for recreation or support.” “What did you do then?” “I wrote or studied.” “Were you then permitted the use of pens, ink, and paper?” “Oh, no,” answered the abbe; “I had none but what I made for myself.” “You made paper, pens and ink?” “Yes.” Dantes gazed with admiration, but he had some difficulty in believing. Faria saw this. “When you pay me a visit in my cell, my young friend,” said he, “I will show you an entire work, the fruits of the thoughts and reflections of my whole life; many of them meditated over in the shades of the Coloseum at Rome, at the foot of St. Mark’s column at Venice, and on the borders of the Arno at Florence, little imagining at the time that they would be arranged in order within the walls of the Chateau d’If. The work I speak of is called ‘A Treatise on the Possibility of a General Monarchy in Italy,’ and will make one large quarto volume.” “And on what have you written all this?” 187

“On two of my shirts. I invented a preparation that makes linen as smooth and as easy to write on as parchment.” “You are, then, a chemist?” “Somewhat; I know Lavoisier, and was the intimate friend of Cabanis.” “But for such a work you must have needed books – had you any?” “I had nearly five thousand volumes in my library at Rome; but after reading them over many times, I found out that with one hundred and fifty well-chosen books a man possesses, if not a complete summary of all human knowledge, at least all that a man need really know. I devoted three years of my life to reading and studying these one hundred and fifty volumes, till I knew them nearly by heart; so that since I have been in prison, a very slight effort of memory has enabled me to recall their contents as readily as though the pages were open before me. I could recite you the whole of Thucydides, Xenophon, Plutarch, Titus Livius, Tacitus, Strada, Jornandes, Dante, Montaigne, Shaksepeare, Spinoza, Machiavelli, and Bossuet. I name only the most important.” “You are, doubtless, acquainted with a variety of languages, so as to have been able to read all these?” “Yes, I speak five of the modern tongues – that is to say, German, French, Italian, English, and Spanish; by the aid of ancient Greek I learned modern Greek – I don’t speak it so well as I could wish, but I am still trying to improve myself.” “Improve yourself!” repeated Dantes; “why, how can you manage to do so?” “Why, I made a vocabulary of the words I knew; turned, returned, and arranged them, so as to enable me to express my thoughts through their medium. I know nearly one thousand words, which is all that is absolutely necessary, although I believe there are nearly one hundred thousand in the 188

dictionaries. I cannot hope to be very fluent, but I certainly should have no difficulty in explaining my wants and wishes; and that would be quite as much as I should ever require.” Stronger grew the wonder of Dantes, who almost fancied he had to do with one gifted with supernatural powers; still hoping to find some imperfection which might bring him down to a level with human beings, he added, “Then if you were not furnished with pens, how did you manage to write the work you speak of?” “I made myself some excellent ones, which would be universally preferred to all others if once known. You are aware what huge whitings are served to us on maigre days. Well, I selected the cartilages of the heads of these fishes, and you can scarcely imagine the delight with which I welcomed the arrival of each Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, as affording me the means of increasing my stock of pens; for I will freely confess that my historical labors have been my greatest solace and relief. While retracing the past, I forget the present; and traversing at will the path of history I cease to remember that I am myself a prisoner.” “But the ink,” said Dantes; “of what did you make your ink?” “There was formerly a fireplace in my dungeon,” replied Faria, “but it was closed up long ere I became an occupant of this prison. Still, it must have been many years in use, for it was thickly covered with a coating of soot; this soot I dissolved in a portion of the wine brought to me every Sunday, and I assure you a better ink cannot be desired. For very important notes, for which closer attention is required, I pricked one of my fingers, and wrote with my own blood.” “And when,” asked Dantes, “may I see all this?” “Whenever you please,” replied the abbe. “Oh, then let it be directly!” exclaimed the young man. 189

“Follow me, then,” said the abbe, as he re-entered the subterranean passage, in which he soon disappeared, followed by Dantes.

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Chapter 17: The Abbe’s Chamber.
After having passed with tolerable ease through the subterranean passage, which, however, did not admit of their holding themselves erect, the two friends reached the further end of the corridor, into which the abbe’s cell opened; from that point the passage became much narrower, and barely permitted one to creep through on hands and knees. The floor of the abbe’s cell was paved, and it had been by raising one of the stones in the most obscure corner that Faria had to been able to commence the laborious task of which Dantes had witnessed the completion. As he entered the chamber of his friend, Dantes cast around one eager and searching glance in quest of the expected marvels, but nothing more than common met his view. “It is well,” said the abbe; “we have some hours before us – it is now just a quarter past twelve o’clock.” Instinctively Dantes turned round to observe by what watch or clock the abbe had been able so accurately to specify the hour. “Look at this ray of light which enters by my window,” said the abbe, “and then observe the lines traced on the wall. Well, by means of these lines, which are in accordance with the double motion of the earth, and the ellipse it describes round the sun, I am enabled to ascertain the precise hour with more minuteness than if I possessed a watch; for that might be broken or deranged in its movements, while the sun and earth never vary in their appointed paths.” This last explanation was wholly lost upon Dantes, who had always imagined, from seeing the sun rise from behind the mountains and set in the Mediterranean, that it moved, and not the earth. A double movement of the globe he inhabited, and of which he could feel nothing, appeared to him perfectly impossible. Each word that fell from his companion’s lips 191

seemed fraught with the mysteries of science, as worthy of digging out as the gold and diamonds in the mines of Guzerat and Golconda, which he could just recollect having visited during a voyage made in his earliest youth. “Come,” said he to the abbe, “I am anxious to see your treasures.” The abbe smiled, and, proceeding to the disused fireplace, raised, by the help of his chisel, a long stone, which had doubtless been the hearth, beneath which was a cavity of considerable depth, serving as a safe depository of the articles mentioned to Dantes. “What do you wish to see first?” asked the abbe. “Oh, your great work on the monarchy of Italy!” Faria then drew forth from his hiding-place three or four rolls of linen, laid one over the other, like folds of papyrus. These rolls consisted of slips of cloth about four inches wide and eighteen long; they were all carefully numbered and closely covered with writing, so legible that Dantes could easily read it, as well as make out the sense – it being in Italian, a language he, as a Provencal, perfectly understood. “There,” said he, “there is the work complete. I wrote the word finis at the end of the sixty-eighth strip about a week ago. I have torn up two of my shirts, and as many handkerchiefs as I was master of, to complete the precious pages. Should I ever get out of prison and find in all Italy a printer courageous enough to publish what I have composed, my literary reputation is forever secured.” “I see,” answered Dantes. “Now let me behold the curious pens with which you have written your work.” “Look!” said Faria, showing to the young man a slender stick about six inches long, and much resembling the size of the handle of a fine paintingbrush, to the end of which was tied, by a piece of thread, one of those 192

cartilages of which the abbe had before spoken to Dantes; it was pointed, and divided at the nib like an ordinary pen. Dantes examined it with intense admiration, then looked around to see the instrument with which it had been shaped so correctly into form. “Ah, yes,” said Faria; “the penknife. That’s my masterpiece. I made it, as well as this larger knife, out of an old iron candlestick.” The penknife was sharp and keen as a razor; as for the other knife, it would serve a double purpose, and with it one could cut and thrust. Dantes examined the various articles shown to him with the same attention that he had bestowed on the curiosities and strange tools exhibited in the shops at Marseilles as the works of the savages in the South Seas from whence they had been brought by the different trading vessels. “As for the ink,” said Faria, “I told you how I managed to obtain that – and I only just make it from time to time, as I require it.” “One thing still puzzles me,” observed Dantes, “and that is how you managed to do all this by daylight?” “I worked at night also,” replied Faria. “Night! – why, for heaven’s sake, are your eyes like cats’, that you can see to work in the dark?” “Indeed they are not; but God his supplied man with the intelligence that enables him to overcome the limitations of natural conditions. I furnished myself with a light.” “You did? Pray tell me how.” “I separated the fat from the meat served to me, melted it, and so made oil – here is my lamp.” So saying, the abbe exhibited a sort of torch very similar to those used in public illuminations. 193

“But light?” “Here are two flints and a piece of burnt linen.” “And matches?” “I pretended that I had a disorder of the skin, and asked for a little sulphur, which was readily supplied.” Dantes laid the different things he had been looking at on the table, and stood with his head drooping on his breast, as though overwhelmed by the perseverance and strength of Faria’s mind. “You have not seen all yet,” continued Faria, “for I did not think it wise to trust all my treasures in the same hiding-place. Let us shut this one up.” They put the stone back in its place; the abbe sprinkled a little dust over it to conceal the traces of its having been removed, rubbed his foot well on it to make it assume the same appearance as the other, and then, going towards his bed, he removed it from the spot it stood in. Behind the head of the bed, and concealed by a stone fitting in so closely as to defy all suspicion, was a hollow space, and in this space a ladder of cords between twenty-five and thirty feet in length. Dantes closely and eagerly examined it; he found it firm, solid, and compact enough to bear any weight. “Who supplied you with the materials for making this wonderful work?” “I tore up several of my shirts, and ripped out the seams in the sheets of my bed, during my three years’ imprisonment at Fenestrelle; and when I was removed to the Chateau d’If, I managed to bring the ravellings with me, so that I have been able to finish my work here.” “And was it not discovered that your sheets were unhemmed?” “Oh, no, for when I had taken out the thread I required, I hemmed the edges over again.” “With what?” 194

“With this needle,” said the abbe, as, opening his ragged vestments, he showed Dantes a long, sharp fish-bone, with a small perforated eye for the thread, a small portion of which still remained in it. “I once thought,” continued Faria, “of removing these iron bars, and letting myself down from the window, which, as you see, is somewhat wider than yours, although I should have enlarged it still more preparatory to my flight; however, I discovered that I should merely have dropped into a sort of inner court, and I therefore renounced the project altogether as too full of risk and danger. Nevertheless, I carefully preserved my ladder against one of those unforeseen opportunities of which I spoke just now, and which sudden chance frequently brings about.” While affecting to be deeply engaged in examining the ladder, the mind of Dantes was, in fact, busily occupied by the idea that a person so intelligent, ingenious, and clearsighted as the abbe might probably be able to solve the dark mystery of his own misfortunes, where he himself could see nothing. “What are you thinking of?” asked the abbe smilingly, imputing the deep abstraction in which his visitor was plunged to the excess of his awe and wonder. “I was reflecting, in the first place,” replied Dantes, “upon the enormous degree of intelligence and ability you must have employed to reach the high perfection to which you have attained. What would you not have accomplished if you had been free?” “Possibly nothing at all; the overflow of my brain would probably, in a state of freedom, have evaporated in a thousand follies; misfortune is needed to bring to light the treasures of the human intellect. Compression is needed to explode gunpowder. Captivity has brought my mental faculties to a focus; and you are well aware that from the collision of clouds electricity is produced – from electricity, lightning, from lightning, illumination.” “No,” replied Dantes. “I know nothing. Some of your words are to me quite empty of meaning. You must be blessed indeed to possess the knowledge you have.” 195

The abbe smiled. “Well,” said he, “but you had another subject for your thoughts; did you not say so just now?” “I did!” “You have told me as yet but one of them – let me hear the other.” “It was this, – that while you had related to me all the particulars of your past life, you were perfectly unacquainted with mine.” “Your life, my young friend, has not been of sufficient length to admit of your having passed through any very important events.” “It has been long enough to inflict on me a great and undeserved misfortune. I would fain fix the source of it on man that I may no longer vent reproaches upon heaven.” “Then you profess ignorance of the crime with which you are charged?” “I do, indeed; and this I swear by the two beings most dear to me upon earth, – my father and Mercedes.” “Come,” said the abbe, closing his hiding-place, and pushing the bed back to its original situation, “let me hear your story.” Dantes obeyed, and commenced what he called his history, but which consisted only of the account of a voyage to India, and two or three voyages to the Levant until he arrived at the recital of his last cruise, with the death of Captain Leclere, and the receipt of a packet to be delivered by himself to the grand marshal; his interview with that personage, and his receiving, in place of the packet brought, a letter addressed to a Monsieur Noirtier – his arrival at Marseilles, and interview with his father – his affection for Mercedes, and their nuptual feast – his arrest and subsequent examination, his temporary detention at the Palais de Justice, and his final imprisonment in the Chateau d’If. From this point everything was a blank to Dantes – he knew nothing more, not even the length of time he had 196

been imprisoned. His recital finished, the abbe reflected long and earnestly. “There is,” said he, at the end of his meditations, “a clever maxim, which bears upon what I was saying to you some little while ago, and that is, that unless wicked ideas take root in a naturally depraved mind, human nature, in a right and wholesome state, revolts at crime. Still, from an artificial civilization have originated wants, vices, and false tastes, which occasionally become so powerful as to stifle within us all good feelings, and ultimately to lead us into guilt and wickedness. From this view of things, then, comes the axiom that if you visit to discover the author of any bad action, seek first to discover the person to whom the perpetration of that bad action could be in any way advantageous. Now, to apply it in your case, – to whom could your disappearance have been serviceable?” “To no one, by heaven! I was a very insignificant person.” “Do not speak thus, for your reply evinces neither logic nor philosophy; everything is relative, my dear young friend, from the king who stands in the way of his successor, to the employee who keeps his rival out of a place. Now, in the event of the king’s death, his successor inherits a crown, – when the employee dies, the supernumerary steps into his shoes, and receives his salary of twelve thousand livres. Well, these twelve thousand livres are his civil list, and are as essential to him as the twelve millions of a king. Every one, from the highest to the lowest degree, has his place on the social ladder, and is beset by stormy passions and conflicting interests, as in Descartes’ theory of pressure and impulsion. But these forces increase as we go higher, so that we have a spiral which in defiance of reason rests upon the apex and not on the base. Now let us return to your particular world. You say you were on the point of being made captain of the Pharaon?” “Yes.” “And about to become the husband of a young and lovely girl?” 197

“Yes.” “Now, could any one have had any interest in preventing the accomplishment of these two things? But let us first settle the question as to its being the interest of any one to hinder you from being captain of the Pharaon. What say you?” “I cannot believe such was the case. I was generally liked on board, and had the sailors possessed the right of selecting a captain themselves, I feel convinced their choice would have fallen on me. There was only one person among the crew who had any feeling of ill-will towards me. I had quarelled with him some time previously, and had even challenged him to fight me; but he refused.” “Now we are getting on. And what was this man’s name?” “Danglars.” “What rank did he hold on board?” “He was supercargo.” “And had you been captain, should you have retained him in his employment?” “Not if the choice had remained with me, for I had frequently observed inaccuracies in his accounts.” “Good again! Now then, tell me, was any person present during your last conversation with Captain Leclere?” “No; we were quite alone.” “Could your conversation have been overheard by any one?”

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“It might, for the cabin door was open – and – stay; now I recollect, – Danglars himself passed by just as Captain Leclere was giving me the packet for the grand marshal.” “That’s better,” cried the abbe; “now we are on the right scent. Did you take anybody with you when you put into the port of Elba?” “Nobody.” “Somebody there received your packet, and gave you a letter in place of it, I think?” “Yes; the grand marshal did.” “And what did you do with that letter?” “Put it into my portfolio.” “You had your portfolio with you, then? Now, how could a sailor find room in his pocket for a portfolio large enough to contain an official letter?” “You are right; it was left on board.” “Then it was not till your return to the ship that you put the letter in the portfolio?” “No.” “And what did you do with this same letter while returning from PortoFerrajo to the vessel?” “I carried it in my hand.” “So that when you went on board the Pharaon, everybody could see that you held a letter in your hand?” 199

“Yes.” “Danglars, as well as the rest?” “Danglars, as well as others.” “Now, listen to me, and try to recall every circumstance attending your arrest. Do you recollect the words in which the information against you was formulated?” “Oh yes, I read it over three times, and the words sank deeply into my memory.” “Repeat it to me.” Dantes paused a moment, then said, “This is it, word for word: ‘The king’s attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and religion, that one Edmond Dantes, mate on board the Pharaon, this day arrived from Smyrna, after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, has been intrusted by Murat with a packet for the usurper; again, by the usurper, with a letter for the Bonapartist Club in Paris. This proof of his guilt may be procured by his immediate arrest, as the letter will be found either about his person, at his father’s residence, or in his cabin on board the Pharaon.’“ The abbe shrugged his shoulders. “The thing is clear as day,” said he; “and you must have had a very confiding nature, as well as a good heart, not to have suspected the origin of the whole affair.” “Do you really think so? Ah, that would indeed be infamous.” “How did Danglars usually write?” “In a handsome, running hand.” “And how was the anonymous letter written?” “Backhanded.” Again the abbe smiled. “Disguised.” “It was very boldly written, if disguised.” 200

“Stop a bit,” said the abbe, taking up what he called his pen, and, after dipping it into the ink, he wrote on a piece of prepared linen, with his left hand, the first two or three words of the accusation. Dantes drew back, and gazed on the abbe with a sensation almost amounting to terror. “How very astonishing!” cried he at length. “Why your writing exactly resembles that of the accusation.” “Simply because that accusation had been written with the left hand; and I have noticed that” – “What?” “That while the writing of different persons done with the right hand varies, that performed with the left hand is invariably uniform.” “You have evidently seen and observed everything.” “Let us proceed.” “Oh, yes, yes!” “Now as regards the second question.” “I am listening.” “Was there any person whose interest it was to prevent your marriage with Mercedes?” “Yes; a young man who loved her.” “And his name was” – “Fernand.” “That is a Spanish name, I think?” 201

“He was a Catalan.” “You imagine him capable of writing the letter?” “Oh, no; he would more likely have got rid of me by sticking a knife into me.” “That is in strict accordance with the Spanish character; an assassination they will unhesitatingly commit, but an act of cowardice, never.” “Besides,” said Dantes, “the various circumstances mentioned in the letter were wholly unknown to him.” “You had never spoken of them yourself to any one?” “To no one.” “Not even to your mistress?” “No, not even to my betrothed.” “Then it is Danglars.” “I feel quite sure of it now.” “Wait a little. Pray, was Danglars acquainted with Fernand?” “No – yes, he was. Now I recollect” – “What?” “To have seen them both sitting at table together under an arbor at Pere Pamphile’s the evening before the day fixed for my wedding. They were in earnest conversation. Danglars was joking in a friendly way, but Fernand looked pale and agitated.” “Were they alone?” 202

“There was a third person with them whom I knew perfectly well, and who had, in all probability made their acquaintance; he was a tailor named Caderousse, but he was very drunk. Stay! – stay! – How strange that it should not have occurred to me before! Now I remember quite well, that on the table round which they were sitting were pens, ink, and paper. Oh, the heartless, treacherous scoundrels!” exclaimed Dantes, pressing his hand to his throbbing brows. “Is there anything else I can assist you in discovering, besides the villany of your friends?” inquired the abbe with a laugh. “Yes, yes,” replied Dantes eagerly; “I would beg of you, who see so completely to the depths of things, and to whom the greatest mystery seems but an easy riddle, to explain to me how it was that I underwent no second examination, was never brought to trial, and, above all, was condemned without ever having had sentence passed on me?” “That is altogether a different and more serious matter,” responded the abbe. “The ways of justice are frequently too dark and mysterious to be easily penetrated. All we have hitherto done in the matter has been child’s play. If you wish me to enter upon the more difficult part of the business, you must assist me by the most minute information on every point.” “Pray ask me whatever questions you please; for, in good truth, you see more clearly into my life than I do myself.” “In the first place, then, who examined you, – the king’s attorney, his deputy, or a magistrate?” “The deputy.” “Was he young or old?” “About six or seven and twenty years of age, I should say.”

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“So,” answered the abbe. “Old enough to be ambitions, but too young to be corrupt. And how did he treat you?” “With more of mildness than severity.” “Did you tell him your whole story?” “I did.” “And did his conduct change at all in the course of your examination?” “He did appear much disturbed when he read the letter that had brought me into this scrape. He seemed quite overcome by my misfortune.” “By your misfortune?” “Yes.” “Then you feel quite sure that it was your misfortune he deplored?” “He gave me one great proof of his sympathy, at any rate.” “And that?” “He burnt the sole evidence that could at all have criminated me.” “What? the accusation?” “No; the letter.” “Are you sure?” “I saw it done.” “That alters the case. This man might, after all, be a greater scoundrel than you have thought possible.” 204

“Upon my word,” said Dantes, “you make me shudder. Is the world filled with tigers and crocodiles?” “Yes; and remember that two-legged tigers and crocodiles are more dangerous than the others.” “Never mind; let us go on.” “With all my heart! You tell me he burned the letter?” “He did; saying at the same time, ‘You see I thus destroy the only proof existing against you.’“ “This action is somewhat too sublime to be natural.” “You think so?” “I am sure of it. To whom was this letter addressed?” “To M. Noirtier, No. 13 Coq-Heron, Paris.” “Now can you conceive of any interest that your heroic deputy could possibly have had in the destruction of that letter?” “Why, it is not altogether impossible he might have had, for he made me promise several times never to speak of that letter to any one, assuring me he so advised me for my own interest; and, more than this, he insisted on my taking a solemn oath never to utter the name mentioned in the address.” “Noirtier!” repeated the abbe; “Noirtier! – I knew a person of that name at the court of the Queen of Etruria, – a Noirtier, who had been a Girondin during the Revolution! What was your deputy called?” “De Villefort!” The abbe burst into a fit of laughter, while Dantes gazed on him in utter astonishment. 205

“What ails you?” said he at length. “Do you see that ray of sunlight?” “I do.” “Well, the whole thing is more clear to me than that sunbeam is to you. Poor fellow! poor young man! And you tell me this magistrate expressed great sympathy and commiseration for you?” “He did.” “And the worthy man destroyed your compromising letter?” “Yes.” “And then made you swear never to utter the name of Noirtier?” “Yes.” “Why, you poor short-sighted simpleton, can you not guess who this Noirtier was, whose very name he was so careful to keep concealed? Noirtier was his father.” Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of Dantes, or hell opened its yawning gulf before him, he could not have been more completely transfixed with horror than he was at the sound of these unexpected words. Starting up, he clasped his hands around his head as though to prevent his very brain from bursting, and exclaimed, “His father! his father!” “Yes, his father,” replied the abbe; “his right name was Noirtier de Villefort.” At this instant a bright light shot through the mind of Dantes, and cleared up all that had been dark and obscure before. The change that had come over Villefort during the examination, the destruction of the letter, the exacted promise, the almost supplicating tones of the magistrate, who seemed rather to implore mercy than to pronounce punishment, – all 206

returned with a stunning force to his memory. He cried out, and staggered against the wall like a drunken man, then he hurried to the opening that led from the abbe’s cell to his own, and said, “I must be alone, to think over all this.” When he regained his dungeon, he threw himself on his bed, where the turnkey found him in the evening visit, sitting with fixed gaze and contracted features, dumb and motionless as a statue. During these hours of profound meditation, which to him had seemed only minutes, he had formed a fearful resolution, and bound himself to its fulfilment by a solemn oath. Dantes was at length roused from his revery by the voice of Faria, who, having also been visited by his jailer, had come to invite his fellowsufferer to share his supper. The reputation of being out of his mind, though harmlessly and even amusingly so, had procured for the abbe unusual privileges. He was supplied with bread of a finer, whiter quality than the usual prison fare, and even regaled each Sunday with a small quantity of wine. Now this was a Sunday, and the abbe had come to ask his young companion to share the luxuries with him. Dantes followed; his features were no longer contracted, and now wore their usual expression, but there was that in his whole appearance that bespoke one who had come to a fixed and desperate resolve. Faria bent on him his penetrating eye: “I regret now,” said he, “having helped you in your late inquiries, or having given you the information I did.” “Why so?” inquired Dantes. “Because it has instilled a new passion in your heart – that of vengeance.” Dantes smiled. “Let us talk of something else,” said he. Again the abbe looked at him, then mournfully shook his head; but in accordance with Dantes’ request, he began to speak of other matters. The elder prisoner was one of those persons whose conversation, like that of all who have experienced many trials, contained many useful and 207

important hints as well as sound information; but it was never egotistical, for the unfortunate man never alluded to his own sorrows. Dantes listened with admiring attention to all he said; some of his remarks corresponded with what he already knew, or applied to the sort of knowledge his nautical life had enabled him to acquire. A part of the good abbe’s words, however, were wholly incomprehensible to him; but, like the aurora which guides the navigator in northern latitudes, opened new vistas to the inquiring mind of the listener, and gave fantastic glimpses of new horizons, enabling him justly to estimate the delight an intellectual mind would have in following one so richly gifted as Faria along the heights of truth, where he was so much at home. “You must teach me a small part of what you know,” said Dantes, “if only to prevent your growing weary of me. I can well believe that so learned a person as yourself would prefer absolute solitude to being tormented with the company of one as ignorant and uninformed as myself. If you will only agree to my request, I promise you never to mention another word about escaping.” The abbe smiled. “Alas, my boy,” said he, “human knowledge is confined within very narrow limits; and when I have taught you mathematics, physics, history, and the three or four modern languages with which I am acquainted, you will know as much as I do myself. Now, it will scarcely require two years for me to communicate to you the stock of learning I possess.” “Two years!” exclaimed Dantes; “do you really believe I can acquire all these things in so short a time?” “Not their application, certainly, but their principles you may; to learn is not to know; there are the learners and the learned. Memory makes the one, philosophy the other.” “But cannot one learn philosophy?” “Philosophy cannot be taught; it is the application of the sciences to truth; it is like the golden cloud in which the Messiah went up into heaven.” 208

“Well, then,” said Dantes, “What shall you teach me first? I am in a hurry to begin. I want to learn.” “Everything,” said the abbe. And that very evening the prisoners sketched a plan of education, to be entered upon the following day. Dantes possessed a prodigious memory, combined with an astonishing quickness and readiness of conception; the mathematical turn of his mind rendered him apt at all kinds of calculation, while his naturally poetical feelings threw a light and pleasing veil over the dry reality of arithmetical computation, or the rigid severity of geometry. He already knew Italian, and had also picked up a little of the Romaic dialect during voyages to the East; and by the aid of these two languages he easily comprehended the construction of all the others, so that at the end of six months he began to speak Spanish, English, and German. In strict accordance with the promise made to the abbe, Dantes spoke no more of escape. Perhaps the delight his studies afforded him left no room for such thoughts; perhaps the recollection that he had pledged his word (on which his sense of honor was keen) kept him from referring in any way to the possibilities of flight. Days, even months, passed by unheeded in one rapid and instructive course. At the end of a year Dantes was a new man. Dantes observed, however, that Faria, in spite of the relief his society afforded, daily grew sadder; one thought seemed incessantly to harass and distract his mind. Sometimes he would fall into long reveries, sigh heavily and involuntarily, then suddenly rise, and, with folded arms, begin pacing the confined space of his dungeon. One day he stopped all at once, and exclaimed, “Ah, if there were no sentinel!” “There shall not be one a minute longer than you please,” said Dantes, who had followed the working of his thoughts as accurately as though his brain were enclosed in crystal so clear as to display its minutest operations. “I have already told you,” answered the abbe, “that I loathe the idea of shedding blood.” 209

“And yet the murder, if you choose to call it so, would be simply a measure of self-preservation.” “No matter! I could never agree to it.” “Still, you have thought of it?” “Incessantly, alas!” cried the abbe. “And you have discovered a means of regaining our freedom, have you not?” asked Dantes eagerly. “I have; if it were only possible to place a deaf and blind sentinel in the gallery beyond us.” “He shall be both blind and deaf,” replied the young man, with an air of determination that made his companion shudder. “No, no,” cried the abbe; “impossible!” Dantes endeavored to renew the subject; the abbe shook his head in token of disapproval, and refused to make any further response. Three months passed away. “Are you strong?” the abbe asked one day of Dantes. The young man, in reply, took up the chisel, bent it into the form of a horseshoe, and then as readily straightened it. “And will you engage not to do any harm to the sentry, except as a last resort?” “I promise on my honor.” “Then,” said the abbe, “we may hope to put our design into execution.” “And how long shall we be in accomplishing the necessary work?” “At least a year.” 210

“And shall we begin at once?” “At once.” “We have lost a year to no purpose!” cried Dantes. “Do you consider the last twelve months to have been wasted?” asked the abbe. “Forgive me!” cried Edmond, blushing deeply. “Tut, tut!” answered the abbe, “man is but man after all, and you are about the best specimen of the genus I have ever known. Come, let me show you my plan.” The abbe then showed Dantes the sketch he had made for their escape. It consisted of a plan of his own cell and that of Dantes, with the passage which united them. In this passage he proposed to drive a level as they do in mines; this level would bring the two prisoners immediately beneath the gallery where the sentry kept watch; once there, a large excavation would be made, and one of the flag-stones with which the gallery was paved be so completely loosened that at the desired moment it would give way beneath the feet of the soldier, who, stunned by his fall, would be immediately bound and gagged by Dantes before he had power to offer any resistance. The prisoners were then to make their way through one of the gallery windows, and to let themselves down from the outer walls by means of the abbe’s ladder of cords. Dantes’ eyes sparkled with joy, and he rubbed his hands with delight at the idea of a plan so simple, yet apparently so certain to succeed. That very day the miners began their labors, with a vigor and alacrity proportionate to their long rest from fatigue and their hopes of ultimate success. Nothing interrupted the progress of the work except the necessity that each was under of returning to his cell in anticipation of the turnkey’s visits. They had learned to distinguish the almost imperceptible sound of his footsteps as he descended towards their dungeons, and happily, never failed of being prepared for his coming. The fresh earth excavated during their present work, and which would have entirely blocked up the old 211

passage, was thrown, by degrees and with the utmost precaution, out of the window in either Faria’s or Dantes’ cell, the rubbish being first pulverized so finely that the night wind carried it far away without permitting the smallest trace to remain. More than a year had been consumed in this undertaking, the only tools for which had been a chisel, a knife, and a wooden lever; Faria still continuing to instruct Dantes by conversing with him, sometimes in one language, sometimes in another; at others, relating to him the history of nations and great men who from time to time have risen to fame and trodden the path of glory. The abbe was a man of the world, and had, moreover, mixed in the first society of the day; he wore an air of melancholy dignity which Dantes, thanks to the imitative powers bestowed on him by nature, easily acquired, as well as that outward polish and politeness he had before been wanting in, and which is seldom possessed except by those who have been placed in constant intercourse with persons of high birth and breeding. At the end of fifteen months the level was finished, and the excavation completed beneath the gallery, and the two workmen could distinctly hear the measured tread of the sentinel as he paced to and fro over their heads. Compelled, as they were, to await a night sufficiently dark to favor their flight, they were obliged to defer their final attempt till that auspicious moment should arrive; their greatest dread now was lest the stone through which the sentry was doomed to fall should give way before its right time, and this they had in some measure provided against by propping it up with a small beam which they had discovered in the walls through which they had worked their way. Dantes was occupied in arranging this piece of wood when he heard Faria, who had remained in Edmond’s cell for the purpose of cutting a peg to secure their rope-ladder, call to him in a tone indicative of great suffering. Dantes hastened to his dungeon, where he found him standing in the middle of the room, pale as death, his forehead streaming with perspiration, and his hands clinched tightly together. “Gracious heavens!” exclaimed Dantes, “what is the matter? what has happened?” 212

“Quick! quick!” returned the abbe, “listen to what I have to say.” Dantes looked in fear and wonder at the livid countenance of Faria, whose eyes, already dull and sunken, were surrounded by purple circles, while his lips were white as those of a corpse, and his very hair seemed to stand on end. “Tell me, I beseech you, what ails you?” cried Dantes, letting his chisel fall to the floor. “Alas,” faltered out the abbe, “all is over with me. I am seized with a terrible, perhaps mortal illness; I can feel that the paroxysm is fast approaching. I had a similar attack the year previous to my imprisonment. This malady admits but of one remedy; I will tell you what that is. Go into my cell as quickly as you can; draw out one of the feet that support the bed; you will find it has been hollowed out for the purpose of containing a small phial you will see there half-filled with a red-looking fluid. Bring it to me – or rather – no, no! – I may be found here, therefore help me back to my room while I have the strength to drag myself along. Who knows what may happen, or how long the attack may last?” In spite of the magnitude of the misfortune which thus suddenly frustrated his hopes, Dantes did not lose his presence of mind, but descended into the passage, dragging his unfortunate companion with him; then, halfcarrying, half-supporting him, he managed to reach the abbe’s chamber, when he immediately laid the sufferer on his bed. “Thanks,” said the poor abbe, shivering as though his veins were filled with ice. “I am about to be seized with a fit of catalepsy; when it comes to its height I shall probably lie still and motionless as though dead, uttering neither sigh nor groan. On the other hand, the symptoms may be much more violent, and cause me to fall into fearful convulsions, foam at the mouth, and cry out loudly. Take care my cries are not heard, for if they are it is more than probable I should be removed to another part of the prison, and we be separated forever. When I become quite motionless, cold, and rigid as a corpse, then, and not before, – be careful about this, – force open my teeth with the knife, pour from eight to ten drops of the liquor contained in the phial down my throat, and I may perhaps revive.” 213

more crushed and broken than a reed trampled under foot. and plainly distinguished the approaching steps of the jailer. darted through it. and colder and paler than marble. his cheeks became purple. Almost before the key had turned in the lock. carefully drawing the stone over the opening. then. and uttered the most dreadful cries. he fell back. Dantes. his mouth was drawn on one side. and anxiously awaited the result. dashed himself about. The young man sprang to the entrance. which. An hour passed away and the old man gave no sign of returning animation. his eyes started from their sockets. At length a slight color tinged the livid cheeks. Dantes began to fear he had delayed too long ere he administered the remedy. The sick man was not yet able to speak. thrusting his hands into his hair. and. but he pointed with evident anxiety towards the door. doubled up in one last convulsion. “He is saved! he is saved!” cried Dantes in a paroxysm of delight. foamed. The fit lasted two hours. a faint sigh issued from the lips. open eyeballs. he struggled. Dantes listened. and the jailer saw the prisoner seated as usual on the side of his bed. Dantes prevented from being heard by covering his head with the blanket. and became as rigid as a corpse. whose restless anxiety concerning his friend left him no 214 . He had scarcely done so before the door opened. he with difficulty forced open the closely fixed jaws. more helpless than an infant. however. “I – I – die – I” – So sudden and violent was the fit that the unfortunate prisoner was unable to complete the sentence.“Perhaps!” exclaimed Dantes in grief-stricken tones. “Help! help!” cried the abbe. and before the departing steps of the jailer had died away in the long corridor he had to traverse. consciousness returned to the dull. but Edmond’s anxiety had put all thoughts of time out of his head. It was therefore near seven o’clock. and hurried to his cell. continued gazing on the lifeless features of his friend. a violent convulsion shook his whole frame. taking up the knife. then. Edmond waited till life seemed extinct in the body of his friend. carefully administered the appointed number of drops. and the sufferer made a feeble effort to move.

” said the abbe.” 215 . and after it I was hungry. but he still lay helpless and exhausted.” The deep glow of indignation suffused the cheeks of Dantes. and got up without help. because we shall be able to command every requisite assistance. “you are mistaken – you will not die! And your third attack (if. only with a better chance of success.” said he.” “Be of good cheer.desire to touch the food brought him.” said he feebly. you should have another) will find you at liberty. now I can move neither my right arm nor leg.” replied Dantes. knowing that all was ready for flight. The abbe shook his head.” And as he spoke he seated himself near the bed beside Faria. as we have done this. or leave me paralyzed for life. Alas.” cried Dantes. “The last attack I had. was soon beside the sick man’s couch. “I did not expect to see you again. but. which shows that there has been a suffusion of blood on the brain. to Dantes. and raising the stone by pressing his head against it. indeed. and my head seems uncomfortable. The third attack will either carry me off. I thought you might have made your escape. I had no such idea. no. “Without you? Did you really think me capable of that?” “At least.” “No. “And why not?” asked the young man. We shall save you another time. alas! I am fearfully exhausted and debilitated by this attack. “your strength will return. “lasted but half an hour. “Did you fancy yourself dying?” “No. and took his hands. Faria had now fully regained his consciousness. hurried back to the abbe’s chamber. “I now see how wrong such an opinion would have been.

” “Well.” The young man raised the arm. A sigh escaped him. The physician who prepared for me the remedy I have twice successfully taken. who are young and active. Here I shall remain till the hour of my deliverance arrives. The attack which has just passed away.” answered the abbe. “Depend upon it. Indeed. condemns me forever to the walls of a prison. and that. but forever. two months. if need be. that even your own excellent heart refuses to believe in. which fell back by its own weight. Lift it. None can fly from a dungeon who cannot walk. we will wait. “Then I shall also remain.” said the abbe. to allow yourself to be duped by vain hopes. he 216 . “You are convinced now. then. – and meanwhile your strength will return. Since the first attack I experienced of this malady.” “I shall never swim again. “And as for your poor arm. Everything is in readiness for our flight. are you not?” asked the abbe. both my father and grandfather died of it in a third attack. “you. for it is a family inheritance. Cease. Edmond. in all human probability.” Then. As for you. delay not on my account.” “My son. will be the hour of my death. was no other than the celebrated Cabanis. but fly – go-I give you back your promise. “This arm is paralyzed. – a week. and judge if I am mistaken. perfectly inanimate and helpless. what difference will that make? I can take you on my shoulders. I know what I say.“My good Edmond. I expected it. a month.” “It is well. As soon as you feel able to swim we will go. I have continually reflected on it. rising and extending his hand with an air of solemnity over the old man’s head. and swim for both of us.” replied Faria. who are a sailor and a swimmer. “be not deceived. not for a time. and we can select any time we choose. must know as well as I do that a man so loaded would sink before he had done fifty strokes.” said Dantes. and he predicted a similar end for me.” “The physician may be mistaken!” exclaimed Dantes.

hear the hollow sound of his footsteps. I can offer you no assistance. But as I cannot. Go. and set about this work. then. and do not return here to-morrow till after the jailer his visited me. I shall have something of the greatest importance to communicate to you. single-hearted.slowly added. “By the blood of Christ I swear never to leave you while you live. if necessary. and call the attention of his officer to the circumstance.” murmured the invalid. in the spirit of obedience and respect which he had sworn to show towards his aged friend. unhappily.” Faria gazed fondly on his noble-minded. That would bring about a discovery which would inevitably lead to our being separated. and read in his countenance ample confirmation of the sincerity of his devotion and the loyalty of his purpose. in which.” Dantes took the hand of the abbe in his. “Thanks. high-principled young friend. You may one of these days reap the reward of your disinterested devotion. it becomes necessary to fill up the excavation beneath the soldier’s gallery. 217 . he might. and the young man retired to his task. Faria smiled encouragingly on him. keep at it all night. extending one hand. “I accept. by chance. quit this place. and affectionately pressed it. and you will not.

Faria smiled. “and I only see a half-burnt paper.” said he.” The sweat started forth on Dantes brow.” said Dantes. after so painful a crisis. 218 . “I have looked at it with all possible attention. When Dantes returned next morning to the chamber of his companion in captivity. He did not speak. With his instinctive delicacy Edmond had preferred avoiding any touch on this painful chord. which had brought upon the abbe the accusation of madness.” said Faria. of which alone. “I may now avow to you. he held open in his left hand.Chapter 18: The Treasure. he retained the use. he found Faria seated and looking composed. on which are traces of Gothic characters inscribed with a peculiar kind of ink. from being constantly rolled into a small compass. “Your treasure?” stammered Dantes. He had taken the silence of the old man for a return to reason. since I have the proof of your fidelity – this paper is my treasure. indeed. “You have.” said the abbe with a smile. of which. one-half belongs to you. seemed to indicate a serious relapse into mental alienation. Until this day and for how long a time! – he had refrained from talking of the treasure. Edmond. a sheet of paper. had the form of a cylinder. and I see by your paleness and agitation what is passing in your heart at this moment. and now these few words uttered by Faria. which. and was not easily kept open. but showed the paper to Dantes. In the ray of light which entered by the narrow window of his cell. “Yes. a noble nature.” “This paper. it will be recollected. “Look at it. my friend. from this day forth. and Faria had been equally silent. “What is that?” he inquired.

“a treasure is not a thing we need hurry about. Edmond!” replied the old man. it is a matter of the utmost importance. “this is a terrible relapse! There was only this blow wanting. Besides. Edmond. “My dear friend. This treasure exists. desirous of not yielding to the old man’s madness. then. which I have never shown to any one. listen to me. and if I have not been allowed to possess it. the third attack may not come on? and then must not all be over? Yes. “Who knows if to-morrow. because everyone thought me mad. and I tasted it slowly in the night of my dungeon and the despair of my captivity. fatigued you. But now I have forgiven the world for the love of you. indeed. Yes – you.No. “You persist in your incredulity. I have often thought with a bitter joy that these riches. – now that I think of all that may result to you in the good fortune of such a disclosure. and believe me so afterwards if you will.” “To-morrow.” murmured Edmond to himself. be assured. perhaps. I see you require proofs. which would make the wealth of a dozen families.” “On the contrary. read this paper.” said Edmond. had you not better repose awhile? Tomorrow. “I thought it was understood that we should not talk of that until to-morrow. now that I see you. This idea was one of vengeance to me. I will hear your narrative. or the next day after. who must know that I am not. “My words have not convinced you. but to-day I wish to nurse you carefully. I shudder at any delay.” Then he said aloud.” “Then we will not talk of it until to-morrow. Well. No one would listen or believe me. young and with a promising future. and tremble lest I should not assure to one as worthy as yourself the possession of so vast an amount of hidden wealth.” he said.” Edmond turned away his head with a sigh. your attack has. Dantes.” 219 .” “Alas. but you.” continued Faria. my dear friend. I am not mad. will be forever lost to those men who persecute me. you will. but read this paper to-day. if you will.

l49” “Well!” said Faria. who. which are rendered illegible by fire. while Faria. “Why. “I see nothing but broken lines and unconnected words. and you shall judge for yourself. but first listen to the history of this paper. my friend. completed every thought. who have grown pale over them by many nights’ study.. and taking the paper. “Steps approach – I go – adieu.. pushed the stone into place with his foot. Faria sat up to receive him. glided like a snake along the narrow passage. of Roman crowns in the most distant a. – he read: – “This treasure.” And Dantes. and have reconstructed every phrase. might order 220 . hearing of Faria’s illness from the jailer. of the second opening wh. of which half was wanting. to you. by some accident.. It was the governor..” “And do you believe you have discovered the hidden meaning?” “I am sure I have.” “Yes. who read them for the first time. restored by his alarm to a certain amount of activity.” “Silence!” exclaimed Dantes. happy to escape the history and explanation which would be sure to confirm his belief in his friend’s mental instability.. no doubt.” thought Edmond. avoiding all gestures in order that he might conceal from the governor the paralysis that had already half stricken him with death. when the young man had finished reading it. which may amount to two... had come in person to see him.“I will not irritate him. touched with pity. and covered it with a mat in order the more effectually to avoid discovery. His fear was lest the governor. – having been burnt.” replied Dantes.. declare to belong to him alo. “25th April. heir. but not for me.

who are 221 . I owe to this worthy lord all the happiness I ever knew. Faria. not daring to return to his friend. ‘As rich as a Spada. so wonderfully sagacious. thinking thus to defer the moment when he should be convinced. once for all. and I heard the phrase very often. During this time.’ But he. his leg was inert. Edmond.him to be removed to better quarters. although the wealth of his family had passed into a proverb. and he could no longer make use of one arm.” Edmond saw there was no escape. Edmond was obliged to assist him. and thus separate him from his young companion.” said the abbe. he seated himself on the stool beside him. or was all the world deceived as to Faria? Dantes remained in his cell all day. for whom in his heart he felt a kind of affection. pursuing you remorselessly. towards the evening after the hour for the customary visit had gone by. convinced that the poor madman. but it is in vain. had been on all points so rational and logical. like public rumor. tried to move and get over the distance which separated them. Listen to me. Faria. “You thought to escape my munificence. “that I was the secretary and intimate friend of Cardinal Spada. for otherwise he would not have been able to enter by the small aperture which led to Dantes’ chamber. that the abbe was mad – such a conviction would be so terrible! But. But fortunately this was not the case. not seeing the young man appear. tried to collect his scattered thoughts. I was tutor to his nephews. lived on this reputation for wealth.” he said with a benignant smile. in fact. Was Faria deceived as to his treasure. the last of the princes of that name. since their first acquaintance. and the governor left him. “Here I am. seated on his bed with his head in his hands. Edmond shuddered when he heard the painful efforts which the old man made to drag himself along. He was not rich. his palace was my paradise. was only troubled with a slight indisposition. “You know. that he could not understand how so much wisdom on all points could be allied with madness. and placing the old man on his bed.

and Caesar Borgia soon found purchasers for their appointments.. The pope had also need of money to bring matters to an end with Louis XII. therefore.dead. There. were the following lines. and Caesar Spada. who was formidable still in spite of his recent reverses. and eight other persons paid for the offices the cardinals held before their elevation. The pope and Caesar Borgia first found the two future cardinals. and when he was alone in the world. His holiness had an idea. and. which I can never forget: – “‘The great wars of Romagna had ended. to make up to him all he had done for me during ten years of unremitting kindness. he could sell the great appointments and splendid offices which the cardinals already held. One day when I was reproaching him for his unavailing searches. who had completed his conquest. There was a third point in view. In the first place. They were ambitious. who held four of the highest dignities of the Holy See. I tried by absolute devotion to his will. that Rospigliosi and Spada paid for being cardinals. 222 . He determined to make two cardinals. Caesar Borgia. I had often seen my noble patron annotating ancient volumes. King of France. The cardinal’s house had no secrets for me. smiling bitterly. in the twentieth chapter of the Life of Pope Alexander VI. and it was necessary. had need of money to purchase all Italy. and thus eight hundred thousand crowns entered into the coffers of the speculators. one of the noblest and richest of the Roman nobility. which will appear hereafter. both felt the high honor of such a favor from the pope. to have recourse to some profitable scheme. opened a volume relating to the History of the City of Rome. especially rich men – this was the return the holy father looked for.’ “By choosing two of the greatest personages of Rome. and eagerly searching amongst dusty family manuscripts. and deploring the prostration of mind that followed them. which was a matter of great difficulty in the impoverished condition of exhausted Italy. and then he had the two hats to sell besides. The result was. he looked at me. they were Giovanni Rospigliosi.

that is to say. This key was furnished with a small iron point. near San Pierdarena. of which the lock was difficult. a prudent man. since Christianity. Besides. and greatly attached to his only nephew. replied: ‘Now as to the worthy cardinals. while a prick or a bite occasions a delay of a day or two. something tells me that we shall get that money back. conferred upon them the insignia of the cardinalate. let us ask both of them to dinner. so eminently civilizing.“It is time now to proceed to the last part of the speculation. Caesar proposed to his father. Caesar thought they could make use of one of the means which he always had ready for his friends. Spada. went with a good appetite and his most ingratiating manner. The pope heaped attentions upon Rospigliosi and Spada. that they should either ask the cardinals to open the cupboard. took paper and pen. When this was pressed to effect the opening of the cupboard. and at the end of twenty-four hours. in the first place. a young captain of the highest promise. the famous key which was given to certain persons with the request that they go and open a designated cupboard. The lion bit the hand thus favored.’ Caesar gave way before such cogent reasoning. had made progress in Rome. it was no longer a 223 . “Spada knew what these invitations meant. you forget.. a charming retreat which the cardinals knew very well by report. “The table was laid in a vineyard belonging to the pope. Caesar. and the cardinals were consequently invited to dinner. Rospigliosi. Then the pope and Caesar Borgia invited the two cardinals to dinner. Spada and Rospigliosi. the person was pricked by this small point. or shake hands with them. Then there was the ring with the lion’s head. This was a matter of dispute between the holy father and his son. and made his will. which Caesar wore when he wanted to greet his friends with a clasp of the hand. – a negligence on the part of the locksmith. He then sent word to his nephew to wait for him near the vineyard. an indigestion declares itself immediately. the bite was mortal. and died next day. and induced them to arrange their affairs and take up their residence at Rome. but Alexander VI. quite set up with his new dignities. but it appeared the servant did not find him.

under presence of seeking for the papers of the dead man. as Caesar looked at him with an ironical air. ‘His holiness requests you to dine with him. in full costume. my books. a scrap of paper on which Spada had written: – ‘I bequeath to my beloved nephew my coffers. Spada turned pale. but the nephew had time to say to his wife before he expired: ‘Look well among my uncle’s papers. Spada died on the threshold of the vineyard. The nephew replied no. amongst others. Spada at the same moment saw another bottle approach him. ‘Caesar wills that you die. and Caesar Borgia paying him most marked attentions.centurion who came from the tyrant with a message. That was all. But the inheritance consisted in this only. my breviary with the gold corners. contained in the library and laboratories. perfectly comprehending the meaning of the question. laid hands on the furniture. the nephew expired at his own door.’ “Spada set out about two o’clock to San Pierdarena. which I beg he will preserve in remembrance of his affectionate uncle. The pope awaited him. which he was pressed to taste. and that the snare was well spread. scrutinized. there is a will. It was too late. An hour afterwards a physician declared they were both poisoned through eating mushrooms. the rich man. placed for him expressly by the pope’s butler. but found nothing. which proved that he had anticipated all. and about the same in ready money. who came with a smile on his lips to say from the pope. making signs which his wife could not comprehend. not exceeding a few thousand crowns in plate.’ “The heirs sought everywhere. and. Caesar and his father searched. was really the most miserable of uncles – no treasures – unless they were those of science. and were greatly astonished that Spada. They began dinner and Spada was only able to inquire of his nephew if he had received his message. The first sight that attracted the eyes of Spada was that of his nephew. “Then Caesar and the pope hastened to lay hands on the heritage.’ 224 . for he had already drunk a glass of excellent wine. admired the breviary. or at least very little. examined.’ but it was a legate a latere.

poisoned at the same time. scarcely noticed in history.“They sought even more thoroughly than the august heirs had done. had carried off from the pope the fortune of the two cardinals. I come now to the last of the family. but it was fruitless.” “The family began to get accustomed to their obscurity. and I advised him to invest all he had in an annuity. but in these days landed property had not much value. some grew rich. compelled to quit Rome. and some were ruined. Caesar. and the public rumor was. “on the contrary. “this seems to you very meaningless. and was in the count’s possession. and thus doubled his income. died. poisoned. and the two palaces and the vineyard remained to the family since they were beneath the rapacity of the pope and his son. a better politician than his father. Years rolled on. had caused it to be regarded as a genuine relic. was completely despoiled. who had not taken any precaution. interrupting the thread of his narrative. it was supposed that the Spada family would resume the splendid position they had held before the cardinal’s time. for the singular clause of the only will that had been found. but this was not the case. some churchmen. because Cardinal Rospigliosi. He did so. The Spadas remained in doubtful ease.” “I will. I beg of you. go on. “Up to this point. some bankers. Then. my friend.” cried Dantes. it seems as if I were reading a most interesting narrative. others diplomatists. escaped by shedding his skin like a snake. The celebrated breviary remained in the family. After the pope’s death and his son’s exile. – you know by what mistake. eh?” “Oh. that Caesar. I had often heard him complain of the disproportion of his rank with his fortune. and amongst the descendants some were soldiers. a mystery hung over this dark affair. There were two palaces and a vineyard behind the Palatine Hill. Alexander VI. he went and got himself obscurely killed in a night skirmish. Months and years rolled on. but the new skin was spotted by the poison till it looked like a tiger’s. I say the two.” said Faria. whose secretary I was – the Count of Spada. preserved in the 225 . no doubt. It had been handed down from father to son.

and a fortnight after the death of the Count of Spada. Be easy. Yet I had read. He had reserved from his annuity his family papers. I in my turn examined the immense bundles of documents. – titles. we are near the conclusion. which he had in ready money. with beautiful Gothic characters. It was an illuminated book. intending to take with me twelve thousand francs I possessed. “At the sight of papers of all sorts. with a thousand Roman crowns. all descending from the poisoned cardinal. and I was going to leave Rome and settle at Florence. his companion in misfortune. My patron died. contracts. on condition that I would have anniversary masses said for the repose of his soul. secretaries before me. on the 25th of December (you will see presently how the date became fixed in my memory). like twenty servitors. I searched. “In 1807. but had remained unpossessed like the treasures of the Arabian Nights. composed of five thousand volumes. It was useless. my library. which slept in the bosom of the earth under the eyes of the genie. a month before I was arrested. I was reading. stewards. for the thousandth time. but could only trace the acquisition of the property of the Cardinal Rospigliosi. for the sole purpose of assuring myself whether any increase of fortune had occurred to them on the death of the Cardinal Caesar Spada. All these he bequeathed to me. and his famous breviary. which were kept in the archives of the family. my dear Edmond.family with superstitious veneration. I had even written a precise history of the Borgia family. ransacked. his library. and the Count of Spada in his poverty. “I was then almost assured that the inheritance had neither profited the Borgias nor the family. All this I did scrupulously. calculated a thousand and a thousand times the income and expenditure of the family for three hundred years. the papers I was arranging. that a servant always carried it before the cardinal on days of great solemnity. I found – nothing. and the famous 226 . and so weighty with gold. but in spite of the most exhaustive researches. parchments. I remained in my ignorance. for the palace was sold to a stranger. counted. and that I would draw up a genealogical tree and history of his house.

I took a wax-candle in one hand.. who this time read the following words. It was indeed but anticipating the simple manners which I should soon be under the necessity of adopting. found it. and I fell asleep about three o’clock in the afternoon. jewels. only appearing when exposed to the fire. however. Alexander VI. an old paper quite yellow with age. and re. I felt for it. tired with my constant labor at the same thing. Island of Monte Cristo. may amount to nearly two mil. that these characters had been traced in mysterious and sympathetic ink. Dantes.. recognizing. my sole heir. put out the flame as quickly as I could. and then I will complete for you the incomplete words and unconnected sense. which was on the table beside me... It was that paper you read this morning. I awoke as the clock was striking six. gems.. with which I proposed to get a light from the small flame still playing on the embers. be. set light to it. will find on raising the twentieth 227 . and opened the crumpled paper with inexpressible emotion. nearly one-third of the paper had been consumed by the flame.. I grasped it in my hand. and with the other groped about for a piece of paper (my match-box being empty). my head dropped on my hands. I hesitated for a moment.” Faria.. when... that I alone. and fearing that not. I raised my head. offered the paper to Dantes. all I poss. Fearing. kept there by the request of the heirs.. lighted my taper in the fire itself. I rang for a light.. but as no one came. diamonds... I was in utter darkness. twisted it up together. he may desire to become my heir. that I have bu. when I had done so. in. and which had served as a marker for centuries.. that is..breviary. then recollected that I had seen in the famous breviary... and Bentivoglio.. and has visited with me. I determined to find one for myself. with an air of triumph. traced with an ink of a reddish color resembling rust: – “This 25th day of April. as if by magic.. in proportion as the fire ascended. 1498. I saw yellowish characters appear on the paper.. who were poisoned. “But beneath my fingers. and overcome by a heavy dinner I had eaten. read it again. and putting it into the expiring flame. to make use of any valuable piece of paper.

.” 228 ..essed of ingots. “Caes. “Caes.content with making me pay for my hat.ing invited to dine by his Holiness . that I have bu..ck from the small creek to the east in a right line... and which he . .. 1498. that I alone... 1498. gems.” Dantes obeyed..... who were poisoned..... in.ried in a place he knows ... be.....” he said.the caves of the small Island of Monte Cristo all I poss. diamonds. which treasure I bequeath and leave en.serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara .lions of Roman crowns.the caves of the small .. . .. 1498.tire to him . which Edmond read as follows: – “.I declare to my nephew. in these caves..know of the existence of this treasure.serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara and Bentivoglio.. Two open.... creek to the east in a right line. which treasure I bequeath and leave en.. that is...” said the abbe. jewels. money.. he may desire to become my heir..ings have been made in these caves.I declare to my nephew. and re.ar Spada. which .ngle in the second.. “and now.tire to him as my sole heir.... Guido Spada... gold..... and which he will find on raising the twentieth ro. “25th April... money.ngle in the second..” Faria followed him with an excited look. “put the two fragments together. my sole heir.. and fearing that not.lions of Roman crowns.... Two open.ck from the small . and the conjointed pieces gave the following: – “This 25th day of April.ar Spada.. the treasure is in the furthest a. “And now. which may amount to nearly two mil.ssed of ingots..ing invited to dine by his Holiness Alexander VI. when he saw that Dantes had read the last line.... the treasure is in the furthest a.content with making me pay for my hat.. gold.know of the existence of this treasure.ings have been made ..... as my sole heir.” and he presented to Dantes a second leaf with fragments of lines written on it. Guido Spada ... and judge for yourself...ried in a place he knows and has visited with me.. “25th April.. “read this other paper.ro.

“now. the cause of which they were unable to guess. the family is extinct. made me his heir. and divining the hidden meaning by means of what was in part revealed. and my hasty departure. Aided by the remaining fragment.” “But.” continued Faria. yes!” “And who completed it as it now is?” “I did. moreover. “has this treasure no more legitimate possessor in the world than ourselves?” “No. you know as much as I do myself. he bequeathed to me all it contained.” inquired Dantes hesitating. half this treasure is yours. I was arrested at the very moment I was leaving Piombino. no. measuring the length of the lines by those of the paper. do you comprehend now?” inquired Faria. if I die here. having aroused their suspicions. The last Count of Spada. the whole belongs to you. wished for a partition of provinces) had their eyes on me.“Well. no. bequeathing to me this symbolic breviary. addressing Dantes with an almost paternal expression. still incredulous. and you escape alone. I guessed the rest. the unity of the Italian kingdom. “Now.” “And what did you do when you arrived at this conclusion?” “I resolved to set out.” replied Edmond. If we ever escape together. and did set out at that very instant. make your mind 229 . carrying with me the beginning of my great work. “It is the declaration of Cardinal Spada. be easy on that score. as we are guided in a cavern by the small ray of light above us. and the will so long sought for. quite contrary to what Napoleon desired so soon as he had a son born to him. my dear fellow. “Yes. no. a thousand times. but for some time the imperial police (who at this period.

“and to you only. though possessed of nearly a million in diamonds and jewels.” “You are my son. there are at this day Roman families perishing of hunger. when other opportunities for investment were wanting. nearly thirteen millions of our money.” replied Dantes.” continued Faria.” And Faria extended the arm of which alone the use remained to him to the young man who threw himself upon his neck and wept. the man who could not be a father. and in those times. and which they cannot touch.” Edmond thought he was in a dream – he wavered between incredulity and joy. “You are the child of my captivity. 230 .” “And you say this treasure amounts to” – “Two millions of Roman crowns. with a sigh. and then surprise you. such accumulations of gold and jewels were by no means rare. I should have conducted you to Monte Cristo. you do not thank me?” “This treasure belongs to you.” exclaimed the old man. and the prisoner who could not get free. I have no right to it. staggered at the enormous amount. handed down by entail. Had we escaped before my attack of catalepsy.” he added. now. Dantes. If we lay hands on this fortune. “that I might test your character. “it is you who will conduct me thither. “The Spada family was one of the oldest and most powerful families of the fifteenth century. Well. I am no relation of yours.satisfied on that point.” “Impossible!” said Dantes. at one and the same time. My profession condemns me to celibacy. Dantes. God has sent you to me to console. “I have only kept this secret so long from you. my dear friend. we may enjoy it without remorse. “Impossible? and why?” asked the old man.

a new misfortune befell them. Dantes drew a plan of the island for Faria. increased Edmond’s admiration of him. was rebuilt. which had given rise to the suspicion of his madness. and making them understand that they were condemned to perpetual imprisonment. as if fate resolved on depriving the prisoners of their last chance. which had so long been the object of the abbe’s meditations. The abbe did not know the Island of Monte Cristo.Chapter 19: The Third Attack. It is a rock of almost conical form. for the oath of vengeance he had taken recurred to his memory. Now that this treasure. However. still existed. explaining to Dantes all the good which. It was past a question now that Faria was not a lunatic. and every day he expatiated on the amount. and stopped up with vast masses of stone the hole Dantes had 231 . situated twenty-five miles from Pianosa. and still is. could insure the future happiness of him whom Faria really loved as a son. and Faria gave Dantes advice as to the means he should employ to recover the treasure. between Corsica and the Island of Elba. a man could do in these days to his friends. in these times. a man with thirteen or fourteen millions could do to his enemies. and had often passed it. and the way in which he had achieved the discovery. he yet believed it was no longer there. but Dantes knew it. They had repaired it completely. completely deserted. but at the same time Dantes could not believe that the deposit. and though he considered the treasure as by no means chimerical. always had been. and then Dantes’ countenance became gloomy. which had long been in ruins. and he reflected how much ill. which looks as though it had been thrust up by volcanic force from the depth to the surface of the ocean. and had once touched there. it had doubled its value in his eyes. with thirteen or fourteen millions of francs. supposing it had ever existed. the gallery on the sea side. But Dantes was far from being as enthusiastic and confident as the old man. This island was.

my beloved friend. “You see. These different sciences that you have made so easy to me by the depth of the knowledge you possess of them. “that God deems it right to take from me any claim to merit for what you call my devotion to you. our living together five or six hours a day. Thus a new. I have promised to remain forever with you. my present happiness. and neither of us will quit this prison. which. I owe you my real good. it will be remembered. even were they not as problematical as the clouds we see in the morning floating over the sea. and makes my whole frame capable of great and terrible things. But my real treasure is not that. – so fills my whole existence. that the despair to which I was just on the point of yielding when I knew you. and all the sovereigns of the earth. it is the rays of intelligence you have elicited from my brain. But for this precaution. and this – this is my fortune – not chimerical. the abbe had made to Edmond. in spite of our jailers. even Caesar Borgia himself. To have you as long as possible near me. which we take for terra firma. The treasure will be no more mine than yours. a stronger. for their attempt to escape would have been detected. Believe me. which awaits me beneath the sombre rocks of Monte Cristo. and now I could not break my promise if I would. my dear friend. to Faria. and with this you have made me rich and happy. to hear your eloquent speech. yet the days these two unfortunates passed together went quickly. it is your presence. but actual. if not actually happy. if I should ever be free. – which embellishes my mind. this is better for me than tons of gold and cases of diamonds. with an air of sorrowful resignation.” said the young man. the misfortune would have been still greater. Faria.” Thus. and take comfort. has no longer any hold over me.partly filled in. and which have taken root there with all their philological ramifications. the languages you have implanted in my memory. strengthens my soul. could not deprive me of this. and which evaporate and vanish as we draw near to them. and the clearness of the principles to which you have reduced them – this is my treasure. who for so long a time had kept silence as to 232 . and they would undoubtedly have been separated. and more inexorable barrier was interposed to cut off the realization of their hopes.

As he had prophesied would be the case. which was. assured that if the first were seized. He opened his eyes upon utter darkness. many stifled sighs. many repressed desires. if not rapidly. and Dantes knew it from the first to the last word. But he was continually thinking over some means of escape for his young companion. for fear of recalling the almost extinct past which now only floated in his memory like a distant light wandering in the night. without having recovered the use of his hand and foot. from the day and hour and moment when he was so. Then he destroyed the second portion. and once there. had regained all the clearness of his understanding. and anticipating the pleasure he would enjoy. – the appointed spot. Dantes. His name. and had gradually. Then. or rather a plaintive voice which essayed to pronounce his name. – instructions which were to serve him when he was at liberty. he remained paralyzed in the right arm and the left leg. For fear the letter might be some day lost or stolen. be it remembered. no one would be able to discover its real meaning. and had given up all hope of ever enjoying it himself. and when Edmond returned to his cell. who learns to make something from nothing. which found vent when Faria was left alone. But beneath this superficial calm there were in the heart of the young man. once free. being the farthest angle in the second opening. Whole hours sometimes passed while Faria was giving instructions to Dantes. besides the moral instructions we have detailed. at least tolerably. taught his youthful companion the patient and sublime duty of a prisoner. and remain there alone under some pretext which would arouse no suspicions. and perhaps in that of the old man. that he might not see himself grow old. 233 . as we have said. he could have but one only thought. In the meanwhile the hours passed.the treasure. – Faria. now perpetually talked of it. They were thus perpetually employed. to endeavor to find the wonderful caverns. and search in the appointed spot. believing that he heard some one calling him. he compelled Dantes to learn it by heart. One night Edmond awoke suddenly. Faria. to gain Monte Cristo by some means. So life went on for them as it does for those who are not victims of misfortune and whose activities glide along mechanically and tranquilly beneath the eye of providence.

” murmured Edmond. which had for a moment staggered under this blow. You will no longer have half a dead body tied to you as a drag to all your movements.reached him. “you understand. rushed into the passage. “Alas. “Oh. my dear friend. We must now only think of you. my dear Edmond. and to him you will appear like an angel of salvation. and which had so seriously alarmed him when he saw them for the first time. and enduring. like yourself. he restores to you more than he takes away. pale. some other unfortunate being will soon take my place. my friend. I have saved you once. rushed towards the door. help!” Faria had just sufficient strength to restrain him. Dantes saw the old man. strong. Perhaps he will be young. “Help. and. exclaiming. and the results would be instantly destroyed if our jailers knew we had communicated with each other. be assured.” said Faria in a resigned tone. which had failed at the words of the old man. and it was time I should die. quite out of his senses. At length providence has done something for you. and I need not attempt to explain to you?” Edmond uttered a cry of agony. Undoubtedly the call came from Faria’s dungeon. the secret entrance was open. “Silence. and so act as to render your captivity supportable or your flight possible. Besides.” Edmond could only clasp his hands and exclaim. 234 . “Alas. while I have been but a hindrance. the dungeon I am about to leave will not long remain empty. and reached the opposite extremity. clinging to the bedstead. but yet erect.” he said. “can it be?” He moved his bed. and will aid you in your escape. drew up the stone. By the light of the wretched and wavering lamp. and his strength. my friend. do you not. speak not thus!” and then resuming all his presence of mind. He sat up in bed and a cold sweat broke out upon his brow. my dear friend. “or you are lost. he said. of which we have spoken. His features were writhing with those horrible symptoms which he already knew. “Oh. It would require years to do again what I have done here.

I listen. try. which. “there remains still some of the magic draught. “has but half its work to do. “See.” replied Faria. begin to pervade my whole frame. Quick. leaning his head against the old man’s bed. and in whose heart he has so profoundly rooted the love of life. shaking his head.” “Oh!” exclaimed Dantes.and I will save you a second time!” And raising the foot of the bed. 235 . quick! tell me what I must do this time. yes.” he exclaimed. then. “and I tell you that I will save you yet. The cold gains upon me. his heart wrung with anguish. These horrible chills. you see that I do not recover. should do all in his power to preserve that existence. – you whom heaven gave me somewhat late. If. “sole consolation of my wretched existence.” “Well.” Edmond took the old man in his arms. and laid him on the bed. yes!” exclaimed Dantes. I wish you all the happiness and all the prosperity you so well deserve. my dear friend. only do not wait so long. God wills it that man whom he has created. however painful it may be. but still gave me. I bless thee!” The young man cast himself on his knees. after having made me swallow twelve drops instead of ten.” said Faria. still a third filled with the red liquor. my friend. “Do as you did before. he drew out the phial. “but no matter. then pour the rest down my throat. all the springs of life are now exhausted in me.” “Oh. – at the moment of separating from you forever.” he continued. and for which I am most grateful. and death. Now lift me on my bed. and in a quarter of an hour there will be nothing left of me but a corpse. looking at his paralyzed arm and leg. in five minutes the malady will reach its height. which make my teeth chatter and seem to dislocate my bones.” “There is not a hope. for I can no longer support myself. My son. a priceless gift. “And now. are there any fresh instructions? Speak. I feel the blood flowing towards my brain. is yet always so dear.

If you do escape. Oh. in place of the intellectual being who so lately rested there. it is the privilege of youth to believe and hope. My eyes pierce the inmost recesses of the earth. The crisis was terrible. At your age we have faith in life. – no. no. – “Monte Cristo. swollen eyelids. ‘tis here – ‘tis here – ‘tis over – my sight is gone – my senses fail! Your hand. to what I say in this my dying moment. It seemed as if a flow of blood had ascended from the chest to the head. Hasten to Monte Cristo – avail yourself of the fortune – for you have indeed suffered long enough. now. be assured I shall save you! Besides. succor him! Help – help – help!” “Hush – hush!” murmured the dying man. The treasure of the Spadas exists.” he cried. “that they may not separate us if you save me!” “You are right. placed it on a projecting stone above the bed. Dantes took the lamp.” A violent convulsion attacked the old man. God grants me the boon of vision unrestricted by time or space. and lips flecked with bloody foam. “Adieu. whom all the world called mad. he said. and are dazzled at the sight of so much riches. yes. yes. “do not forsake me! Oh. remember that the poor abbe. I suffer less because there is in me less strength to endure. clasping Edmond’s hand convulsively – “adieu!” “Oh. forget not Monte Cristo!” And he fell back on the bed. you do not seem to be in such agony as you were before. Dantes! Adieu – adieu!” And raising himself by a final effort. Dantes raised his head and saw Faria’s eyes injected with blood. was not so. whence its tremulous light fell with strange and fantastic ray on the 236 . in which he summoned all his faculties. I see it in the depths of the inner cavern. but old men see death more clearly. Oh. adieu!” murmured the old man. not yet. lay on the bed of torture.” “Do not mistake. although you suffer much.“Listen. and a rigid form with twisted limbs.

the phial contained. pried open the teeth. and the heart’s pulsation become more and more deep and dull. Then he thought it was time to make the last trial. Dantes still doubted. Then an invincible and extreme terror seized upon him. his brow bathed with perspiration. and watched. twice as much more. a quarter of an hour. which he tried many times to close. but in vain – they opened again as soon as shut. – no change took place. an hour and a half elapsed. he saw that he was alone with a corpse. half an hour. and at times gave it the appearance of life. perhaps. which offered less resistance than before. he counted the seconds by the beating of his heart. and during this period of anguish. his hair erect. his hand applied to his heart. and he dared not again press the hand that hung out of bed. he took the knife. closing as well as he 237 . He waited ten minutes. The draught produced a galvanic effect. the last movement of the heart ceased. counted one after the other twelve drops. Trembling. he heaved a sigh which resembled a shriek. While the struggle between day and night lasted. until at length it stopped. but as soon as the daylight gained the pre-eminence. and without having occasion to force open his jaws. his eyes opened until it was fearful to gaze upon them. With steady gaze he awaited confidently the moment for administering the restorative. he poured the whole of the liquid down his throat. he dared no longer to gaze on those fixed and vacant eyes. but the eyeballs were glazed. which had remained extended. a violent trembling pervaded the old man’s limbs. the eyes remaining open. and its feeble ray came into the dungeon. carefully concealed it. and paled the ineffectual light of the lamp. the eyes remained open. and then his convulsed body returned gradually to its former immobility. Edmond leaned over his friend. Strange shadows passed over the countenance of the dead man. an hour. the dawn was just breaking. When he believed that the right moment had arrived. the face became livid.distorted countenance and motionless. stiffened body. and he put the phial to the purple lips of Faria. and then went away. It was six o’clock in the morning. and felt the body gradually grow cold. Half an hour. He extinguished the lamp.

and it seemed to him as if every one had left the cell.” added a third voice. they may go to some expense in his behalf. in spite of this application. as they might have left some turnkey to 238 . mingled with brutal laughter. for the jailer was coming. Nothing betokened that the man know anything of what had occurred. “the madman has gone to look after his treasure.could the entrance to the secret passage by the large stone as he descended. they sent for the doctor.” “They may give him the honors of the sack. and then was heard the regular tramp of soldiers. Other turnkeys came. The voices soon ceased. who asked them to throw water on the dead man’s face. and on leaving him he went on to Faria’s dungeon. and arrived in time to hear the exclamations of the turnkey. but comprehended very little of what was said. and words of pity fell on Dantes’ listening ears.” said one. “Well. the prisoner did not recover. He went on his way. he will not have enough to pay for his shroud!” said another. On this occasion he began his rounds at Dantes’ cell. Still he dared not to enter. “the shrouds of the Chateau d’If are not dear!” “Perhaps. Edmond heard the creaking of the bed as they moved the corpse. and seeing that. “as he was a churchman. He therefore returned by the subterraneous gallery. taking thither breakfast and some linen. well.” said one of the previous speakers. who called out for help. Last of all came the governor. The governor then went out. It was time. Dantes was then seized with an indescribable desire to know what was going on in the dungeon of his unfortunate friend.” Edmond did not lose a word. Good journey to him!” “With all his millions. heard the voice of the governor. “Oh.

” “Let the irons be heated. “I believe it will be requisite.” There was a moment of complete silence. mute and motionless. and declared that he was dead. during which Dantes. It was the governor who returned. happy in his folly. therefore.” “You know. knew that the doctor was examining the corpse a second time. and required no watching. without any attempt to escape. In spite of all appearances. At the end of an hour. “that the old man is really dead. that we should be perfectly assured that the prisoner is dead.” This order to heat the irons made Dantes shudder. for he was a quiet. “but really it is a useless precaution. The doctor analyzed the symptoms of the malady to which the prisoner had succumbed. he heard a faint noise. still listening. therefore. be so kind. – it was evident that the doctor was examining the dead body. but in discharge of my official duty.” said the doctor. “You may make your mind easy. The inquiries soon commenced. as to finish your duty by fulfilling the formalities described by law.” said the doctor. sir. hardly venturing to breathe. for he felt that all the world should have for the poor abbe a love and respect equal to his own. notwithstanding your certainty.” said the governor.” “Still. I will answer for that. followed by the doctor and other attendants. “he is dead. “there was no occasion for watching him: he would have stayed here fifty years.” “Ah. “I am very sorry for what you tell me. “that we are not content in such cases as this with such a simple examination. I’ll answer for it. He remained. which increased.watch the dead. There was a moment’s silence. persisting. and not that I doubt your science. Questions and answers followed in a nonchalant manner that made Dantes indignant. replying to the assurance of the doctor. inoffensive prisoner.” said the governor.” said the governor. He heard 239 .” added the turnkey.

and. he shall be decently interred in the newest sack we can find. on the contrary.” replied the jailer. “this burn in the heel is decisive. he is really dead.” “Wasn’t his name Faria?” inquired one of the officers who accompanied the governor. and some minutes afterwards a turnkey entered. “never. it was an ancient name. The perspiration poured forth upon the young man’s brow. saying. he sometimes amused me very much by telling me stories. he gave me a prescription which cured her. lighted. He was. and rational enough on all points which did not relate to his treasure. as he said. make your mind easy. sir. and then was heard the crackling of burning flesh. “You see. but on that. and he felt as if he should faint. sir. One day. people going and coming. he was intractable.” “Yes.” “Ah. too. sir. of which the peculiar and nauseous smell penetrated even behind the wall where Dantes was listening in horror.hasty steps. The poor fool is cured of his folly. and delivered from his captivity. “You had never anything to complain of?” said the governor to the jailer who had charge of the abbe.” said the doctor. “Never. too. yes. – “Here is the brazier. indeed. when my wife was ill. Will that satisfy you?” 240 . “Yes. but I hope.” There was a moment’s silence. the creaking of a door.” “It is the sort of malady which we call monomania. very learned. “I did not know that I had a rival. ah!” said the doctor.” said the doctor. that you will show him all proper respect. governor.

” “Pooh.” Other footsteps. “That is impossible. and a moment afterwards the noise of rustling canvas reached Dantes’ ears. “Will there be any mass?” asked one of the attendants. “Why. pooh. “he is a churchman. in order to take a trip to Hyeres for a week. were now heard.” said the doctor. Meanwhile the operation of putting the body in the sack was going on. and not give the devil the wicked delight of sending him a priest.” said the governor. and the heavy footfall of a man who lifts a weight sounded on the floor. But make haste – I cannot stay here all day. sir?” inquired a turnkey.” Then the steps retreated. and the voices died away in the distance.” A shout of laughter followed this brutal jest.” said the governor.” “Shall we watch by the corpse?” “Of what use would it be? Shut the dungeon as if he were alive – that is all. “The chaplain of the chateau came to me yesterday to beg for leave of absence. with the impiety usual in persons of his profession. and a silence 241 . about ten or eleven o’clock. “Certainly. when the task was ended. the noise of the door. God will respect his profession. with its creaking hinges and bolts ceased. the bed creaked. “This evening. If the poor abbe had not been in such a hurry. I told him I would attend to the prisoners in his absence.“Must this last formality take place in your presence. then the bed again creaked under the weight deposited upon it. going and coming.” replied the governor. “This evening. he might have had his requiem. “At what hour?” inquired a turnkey.

which was all-pervasive. Then he raised the flag-stone cautiously with his head. – the silence of death. 242 . It was empty. and struck its icy chill to the very soul of Dantes.more sombre than that of solitude ensued. and looked carefully around the chamber. and Dantes emerged from the tunnel.

– a winding-sheet which. as the turnkey said. indeed. He seated himself on the edge of that terrible bed. no longer breathed. with whom he was accustomed to live so intimately. no longer could he clasp the hand which had done so much to make his existence blessed.” he said. never again to hear the voice of the only human being who united him to earth! Was not Faria’s fate the better. I want to 243 . but now to die would be.” he went on with a smile.Chapter 20: The Cemetery of the Chateau D’If. and should assuredly find him again. and then they will guillotine me. No longer could Edmond look into those wide-open eyes which had seemed to be penetrating the mysteries of death. “If I could die. A barrier had been placed between Dantes and his old friend. On the bed. rush on the first person that opens the door. which his friend had driven away and kept away by his cheerful presence. “I should go where he goes.” But excessive grief is like a storm at sea. and passed suddenly from despair to an ardent desire for life and liberty. Everything was in readiness. Faria. cost so little. it was Faria’s last winding-sheet. “I will remain here. and fell into melancholy and gloomy revery. But how to die? It is very easy. had I died years ago. even at the risk of horrible suffering? The idea of suicide. the beneficent and cheerful companion.” he exclaimed – “not die now. lay a sack of canvas. strangle him. where the frail bark is tossed from the depths to the top of the wave. and under its rude folds was stretched a long and stiffened form. Dantes recoiled from the idea of so infamous a death. and faintly illuminated by the pale light that came from the window. Alone – he was alone again – again condemned to silence – again face to face with nothingness! Alone! – never again to see the face. No. now hovered like a phantom over the abbe’s dead body. “Die? oh. no. at full length. after all – to solve the problem of life at its source. to give way to the sarcasm of destiny. after having lived and suffered so long and so much! Die? yes.

lifted his hand to his brow as if his brain wore giddy. covered it with his counterpane. If while he was being carried out the grave-diggers should discover that they were bearing a live instead of a dead body. turned the head towards the wall. entered the tunnel again. and this is what he intended to do. and bore it along the tunnel to his own chamber.live. that he might not allow his thoughts to be distracted from his desperate resolution. he bent over the appalling shroud. Dantes did not intend to give them time to 244 . let me take the place of the dead!” Without giving himself time to reconsider his decision. paced twice or thrice round the dungeon. he became silent and gazed straight before him like one overwhelmed with a strange and amazing thought. placed himself in the posture in which the dead body had been laid. “whence comes this thought? Is it from thee? Since none but the dead pass freely from this dungeon. Before I die I must not forget that I have my executioners to punish. Yet they will forget me here. when he brought the evening meal. but he was afraid that the governor would change his mind. and.” As he said this. who knows. I will yet win back the happiness of which I have been deprived. took from the hiding-place the needle and thread. “Just God!” he muttered. and perhaps. and sewed up the mouth of the sack from the inside. Suddenly he arose. believe that he was asleep. and order the dead body to be removed earlier. and I shall die in my dungeon like Faria. and tried vainly to close the resisting eyes. and getting inside the sack. Now his plans were fully made. as was his frequent custom. He would have been discovered by the beating of his heart. flung off his rags. if by any mischance the jailers had entered at that moment. some friends to reward. I shall struggle to the very last. returned to the other cell. that they might feel only naked flesh beneath the coarse canvas. once again kissed the ice-cold brow. so that the jailer might. Dantes might have waited until the evening visit was over. and then paused abruptly by the bed. tied around its head the rag he wore at night around his own. drew the bed against the wall. laid it on his couch. drew the corpse from the sack. indeed. too. In that case his last hope would have been destroyed. which glared horribly. opened it with the knife which Faria had made.

He hoped that the weight of earth would not be so great that he could not overcome it. footsteps were heard on the stairs. go to the bed. His hand placed upon his heart was unable to redress its throbbings. twenty times at least. might perceive the change that had been made. This time the jailer might not be as silent as usual. with the other he wiped the perspiration from his temples. when he brought him his supper at seven o’clock. from misanthropy or fatigue. profiting by their alarm. From time to time chills ran through his whole body. and Dantes knew that he had escaped the first peril. the gravediggers could scarcely have turned their backs before he would have worked his way through the yielding soil and escaped. Dantes had not eaten since the preceding evening. and went away without saying a word. and seeing that he received no reply. held his breath. and would have been happy if at the same time he could have repressed the throbbing of his veins. but speak to Dantes. he would allow himself to be covered with earth. Dantes’ agony really began. but he had not thought of hunger. and. summoned up all his courage. Yet the hours passed on without any unusual disturbance. if they tried to catch him. At length. fortunately. and then. Edmond felt that the moment had arrived.recognize him. nor did he think of it now. When seven o’clock came. Dantes had received his jailer in bed. escape. all would be over. If they took him to the cemetery and laid him in a grave. as it was night. he meant to open the sack from top to bottom. about the hour the governor had appointed. and thus discover all. It was a good augury. The first risk that Dantes ran was. and then the man placed his bread and soup on the table. but with a sudden cut of the knife. His situation was too precarious to allow him even time to reflect on any thought but one. Then he thought he was going to die. while. and then – so much the better. and clutched his heart in a grasp of ice. he would use his knife to better purpose. he would be stifled. that the jailer. The footsteps – they were double – paused at the door – and Dantes guessed that the two grave-diggers had come to seek him – this 245 . If he was detected in this and the earth proved too heavy.

One of them went away. approaching the ends of the bed. a third remaining at the door with a torch in its hand.” replied the companion. and Dantes heard his shoes striking on the pavement.idea was soon converted into certainty.” said one. The door opened. “Really. you’re right. ascended the stairs. It was a sensation in which pleasure and pain were strangely mingled. and then the party. Dantes’ first impulse was to escape. sitting on the edge of the hand-barrow. Suddenly he felt the fresh and sharp night air. lifting the feet. Edmond stiffened himself in order to play the part of a dead man. They deposited the supposed corpse on the bier. “What would be the use of carrying so much more weight?” was the reply.” said another. he saw two shadows approach his bed. took the sack by its extremities. “They say every year adds half a pound to the weight of the bones. then stopped. “What’s the knot for?” thought Dantes. The two men. he is by no means a light load!” said the other bearer. but fortunately he did not attempt it. The bearers went on for twenty paces. 246 .” “Yes. “I can do that when we get there. putting the bier down on the ground. when he heard the noise they made in putting down the hand-bier. lighted by the man with the torch. “He’s heavy though for an old and thin man. and Dantes knew that the mistral was blowing. and a dim light reached Dantes’ eyes through the coarse sack that covered him. “Have you tied the knot?” inquired the first speaker. as he raised the head. who went first. “Where am I?” he asked himself.

” As he said this. “What can he be looking for?” thought Edmond. but his hair stood erect on his head. then went forward again.“Give us a light. and then there was a burst of brutal laughter. “Well. I can tell you.” The man with the torch complied. “not without some trouble though. They advanced fifty paces farther. “A little farther – a little farther.” he said. although not asked in the most polite terms.” said the other bearer. “not a pleasant night for a dip in the sea.” said the other. Dantes did not comprehend the jest.” said the other.” “Why.” was the answer.” said one of them. The noise of the waves dashing against the rocks on which the chateau is built. the abbe runs a chance of being wet.” was the answer. “Well. then. “Yes. and they proceeded. “or I shall never find what I am looking for. the man came towards Edmond. who heard a heavy metallic substance laid down beside him. and then stopped to open a door. yes. “but it has lost nothing by waiting. and pretty tight too. “The spade. and at the same moment a cord was fastened round his feet with sudden and painful violence. who was looking on. “Here it is at last. “Bad weather!” observed one of the bearers. “Move on. here we are at last.” An exclamation of satisfaction indicated that the grave-digger had found the object of his search. have you tied the knot?” inquired the grave-digger.” And the bier was lifted once more. “You know very well that the last was stopped on 247 .” “Yes. perhaps. reached Dantes’ ear distinctly as they went forward.

with a horrible splash. 248 . with a rapidity that made his blood curdle. “One!” said the grave-diggers. stifled in a moment by his immersion beneath the waves. The sea is the cemetery of the Chateau d’If. and swung him to and fro. and then Dantes felt that they took him. and was dragged into its depths by a thirty-six pound shot tied to his feet. Although drawn downwards by the heavy weight which hastened his rapid descent. one by the head and the other by the heels.” They ascended five or six more steps. “two! three!” And at the same instant Dantes felt himself flung into the air like a wounded bird. and as he did so he uttered a shrill cry.his way. he darted like an arrow into the ice-cold water. and the governor told us next day that we were careless fellows. Dantes had been flung into the sea. dashed on the rocks. it seemed to him as if the fall lasted for a century. At last. falling. falling.

had sufficient presence of mind to hold his breath. he was fifty paces from where he had first sunk. and then his body.Chapter 21: The Island of Tiboulen. in order to avoid being seen. blacker than the sky. but in spite of all his efforts to free himself from the shot. Dantes dived again. but Ratonneau and Pomegue are inhabited. whose projecting crags seemed like arms extended to seize their prey. Dantes waited only to get breath. Behind him. Ratonneau and Pomegue are the nearest islands of all those that surround the Chateau d’If. He must now get his bearings. as is also the islet of Daume. He fancied that these two forms were looking at the sea. He then bent his body. rose phantom-like the vast stone structure. extricated his arm. while the shot dragged down to the depths the sack that had so nearly become his shroud. Dantes. and then dived. sombre and terrible. This was an easy feat to him. he rapidly ripped up the sack. across which the wind was driving clouds that occasionally suffered a twinkling star to appear. He saw overhead a black and tempestuous sky. and was unanimously declared to be the best swimmer in the port. and as his right hand (prepared as he was for every chance) held his knife open. When he arose a second time. whose waves foamed and roared as if before the approach of a storm. at the moment when it seemed as if he were actually strangled. blacker than the sea. and by a desperate effort severed the cord that bound his legs. doubtless these strange grave-diggers had heard his cry. for he usually attracted a crowd of spectators in the bay before the lighthouse at Marseilles when he swam there. and remained a long time beneath the water. and on the highest rock was a torch lighting two figures. although stunned and almost suffocated. he felt it dragging him down still lower. The islands of 249 . When he came up again the light had disappeared. Tiboulen and Lemaire were therefore the safest for Dantes’ venture. With a mighty leap he rose to the surface of the sea. before him was the vast expanse of waters.

that has retarded my speed.” and he struck out with the energy of despair. and he redoubled his exertions. He found with pleasure that his captivity had taken away nothing of his power. and strove to penetrate the darkness.” said he. Often in prison Faria had said to him. as we have said. I must be close to Tiboulen. He fancied that every wave behind him was a pursuing boat. “Let us see. He swam on still. but exhausting his strength. you must not give way to this listlessness.Tiboulen and Lemaire are a league from the Chateau d’If. determined to make for them. even beneath the waves. or the cramp seizes me. increasing rapidly his distance from the chateau. But how could he find his way in the darkness of the night? At this moment he saw the light of Planier. excited by the feeling of freedom. and then I shall sink. but the sea was too violent. during which Dantes. that relentless pursuer. and your strength has not been properly exercised and prepared for exertion. “Well. But what if I were mistaken?” A shudder passed over him. and already the terrible chateau had disappeared in the darkness. But. when he saw him idle and inactive. however. and that he was still master of that element on whose bosom he had so often sported as a boy. “I have swum above an hour. He listened for any sound that might be audible. He sought to tread water. 250 . he hastened to cleave his way through them to see if he had not lost his strength. Fear. “I will swim on until I am worn out. By leaving this light on the right. and he felt that he could not make use of this means of recuperation. Dantes. but as the wind is against me. he kept the Island of Tiboulen a little on the left. gleaming in front of him like a star. He could not see it. it was at least a league from the Chateau d’If to this island.” said he. you will be drowned if you seek to escape. An hour passed. nevertheless. continued to cleave the waves. therefore. clogged Dantes’ efforts. by turning to the left. “Dantes.” These words rang in Dantes’ ears. he would find it. in order to rest himself. but he felt its presence. if I am not mistaken. and every time that he rose to the top of a wave he scanned the horizon.

in spite of the wind and rain. and consequently better adapted for concealment. He was safely sheltered. He extended his hands. 251 . he resolved to plunge into its waves again. He knew that it was barren and without shelter. equally arid. At the expiration of an hour Edmond was awakened by the roar of thunder. stretched himself on the granite. the waves. The tempest was let loose and beating the atmosphere with its mighty wings. and.Suddenly the sky seemed to him to become still darker and more dense. Dantes rose. Before him rose a grotesque mass of rocks. and encountered an obstacle and with another stroke knew that he had gained the shore. which seemed to him softer than down. and scarcely had he availed himself of it when the tempest burst forth in all its fury. He then recollected that he had not eaten or drunk for four-and-twenty hours. at the same time he felt a sharp pain in his knee. but he heard nothing. Tiboulen. wetted him with their spray. and yet he felt dizzy in the midst of the warring of the elements and the dazzling brightness of the lightning. and swim to Lemaire. and listened for the report. but larger. and that it would. in fact. He fancied for a moment that he had been shot. dashing themselves against it. from time to time a flash of lightning stretched across the heavens like a fiery serpent. Then he put out his hand. Then. sweet sleep of utter exhaustion. Edmond felt the trembling of the rock beneath which he lay. advanced a few steps. and heavy clouds seemed to sweep down towards him. he fell into the deep. that resembled nothing so much as a vast fire petrified at the moment of its most fervent combustion. and bear him off into the centre of the storm. It seemed to him that the island trembled to its base. lighting up the clouds that rolled on in vast chaotic waves. but when the sea became more calm. which was. It was the Island of Tiboulen. An overhanging rock offered him a temporary shelter. with a fervent prayer of gratitude. break moorings. and drank greedily of the rainwater that had lodged in a hollow of the rock. like a vessel at anchor. Dantes had not been deceived – he had reached the first of the two islands.

as if he now beheld it for the first time. he saw it again. approaching with frightful rapidity. a light played over them. “the turnkey will enter my chamber. Dantes stood mute and motionless before this majestic spectacle. The men he beheld saw him undoubtedly. Dantes from his rocky perch saw the shattered vessel. Dantes saw a fishingboat driven rapidly like a spectre before the power of winds and waves. and cries of distress. the waves whitened. “In two or three hours. Another flash showed him four men clinging to the shattered mast and the rigging. find the body of my poor friend. Then all was dark again. and gilded their foaming crests with gold. seek for me in vain. a flash of lightning. Dantes ran down the rocks at the risk of being himself dashed to pieces. Above the splintered mast a sail rent to tatters was waving. At the same moment a violent crash was heard. and give the alarm. for their cries were carried to his ears by the wind. and it disappeared in the darkness of the night like a vast sea-bird. A second after. and the blue firmament appeared studded with bright stars. Then the tunnel will be discovered. recognize it. and the tempest continued to rage. It was day. between the Island of Lemaire and Cape Croiselle. It was about five o’clock. vast gray clouds rolled towards the west. Dantes cried at the top of his voice to warn them of their danger.As he rose. By degrees the wind abated. and indeed since his captivity in the Chateau d’If he had forgotten that such scenes were ever to be witnessed. he groped about. but he heard and saw nothing – the cries had ceased. By its light. he listened. and looked at both sea and land. suddenly the ropes that still held it gave way. that seemed to rive the remotest heights of heaven. illumined the darkness. a quarter of a league distant. The sea continued to get calmer. but they saw it themselves. and among the fragments the floating forms of the hapless sailors. Soon a red streak became visible in the horizon. the men who 252 . The gloomy building rose from the bosom of the ocean with imposing majesty and seemed to dominate the scene.” thought Dantes. while a fifth clung to the broken rudder. He turned towards the fortress.

But I cannot –-I am starving. did I not fear being questioned. I am cold. I have suffered enough surely! Have pity on me. and do for me what I am unable to do for myself. perhaps I have not been missed at the fortress.” cried Edmond. and struck out so as to cut across the course the vessel was taking. but he soon 253 . will be questioned. for there is no one left to contradict me. I have lost even the knife that saved me. “I am saved!” murmured he. Dantes looked toward the spot where the fishing-vessel had been wrecked. she should stand out to sea. detected. these men.cast me into the sea and who must have heard the cry I uttered. placed it on his head. and was standing out to sea rapidly. The red cap of one of the sailors hung to a point of the rock and some timbers that had formed part of the vessel’s keel. The police of Marseilles will be on the alert by land. I must wait. who are in reality smugglers. And this conviction restored his strength. whilst the governor pursues me by sea. he saw off the farther point of the Island of Pomegue a small vessel with lateen sail skimming the sea like a gull in search of prey.” As he spoke.” As Dantes (his eyes turned in the direction of the Chateau d’If) uttered this prayer. her sharp prow cleaving through the waves. instead of keeping in shore. and conveyed back to Marseilles! What can I do? What story can I invent? under pretext of trading along the coast. besides. He soon saw that the vessel. In a few hours my strength will be utterly exhausted. O my God. “Oh. I am hungry. seized one of the timbers. with the wind dead ahead. and started. was tacking between the Chateau d’If and the tower of Planier. In an instant Dantes’ plan was formed. “to think that in half an hour I could join her. floated at the foot of the crag. and with his sailor’s eye he knew it to be a Genoese tartan. Then boats filled with armed soldiers will pursue the wretched fugitive. will prefer selling me to doing a good action. I can pass as one of the sailors wrecked last night. For an instant he feared lest. She was coming out of Marseilles harbor. My story will be accepted. The cannon will warn every one to refuse shelter to a man wandering about naked and famished. He swam to the cap.

His arms became stiff. He rose on the waves. Then he advanced. and swam vigorously to meet them. and the vessel stood on another tack. and he was almost breathless. “Courage!” The word reached his ear as a wave which he no longer had the strength to surmount passed over his head. A convulsive 254 . rowed by two men. perhaps. Dantes let go of the timber. He rose again to the surface. uttered a third cry. making signs of distress. he saw they were about to lower the boat. the boat. and the sky turned gray. But he had reckoned too much upon his strength. as if the fatal cannon shot were again tied to his feet. and the tartan instantly steered towards him. He shouted again. and then he realized how serviceable the timber had been to him. Dantes. like most vessels bound for Italy. but no one on board saw him. It was then he rejoiced at his precaution in taking the timber. and one of them cried in Italian. This time he was both seen and heard. The water passed over his head. which he now thought to be useless. The two sailors redoubled their efforts. should he be unsuccessful in attracting attention. the vessel again changed her course. though almost sure as to what course the vessel would take. struggled with the last desperate effort of a drowning man. his legs lost their flexibility. between the islands of Jaros and Calaseraigne. to reach the vessel – certainly to return to shore. An instant after. but before they could meet. However. and uttering a loud shout peculiar to sailers. but he knew that the wind would drown his voice. the vessel and the swimmer insensibly neared one another.saw that she would pass. advanced rapidly towards him. had yet watched it anxiously until it tacked and stood towards him. At the same time. By a violent effort he rose half out of the water. for without it he would have been unable. and felt himself sinking. Dantes would have shouted. waving his cap. and in one of its tacks the tartan bore down within a quarter of a mile of him.

He had fainted.” “It was I. while the friction of his limbs restored their elasticity. He felt himself seized by the hair. A sailor was rubbing his limbs with a woollen cloth. When he opened his eyes Dantes found himself on the deck of the tartan. “and it was time. As we have said. “I am. A few drops of the rum restored suspended animation. an old sailer. “I thank you again.” continued Dantes. in bad Italian. We were coming from Syracuse laden with grain. You have saved my life. looked on with that egotistical pity men feel for a misfortune that they have escaped yesterday.” returned Dantes. “Who are you?” said the pilot in bad French. whom he recognized as the one who had cried out “Courage!” held a gourd full of rum to his mouth. I swam off on a piece of wreckage to try and intercept your course. The storm of last night overtook us at Cape Morgion.movement again brought him to the surface. and fearful of being left to perish on the desolate island.” replied Dantes. and I thank you. “I was lost when one of your sailors caught hold of my hair. holding out his hand. and which may overtake them to-morrow.” said a sailor of a frank and manly appearance. another.” “Yes. and we were wrecked on these rocks. at once the pilot and captain. Dantes was so exhausted that the exclamation of joy he uttered was mistaken for a sigh. “a Maltese sailor.” 255 . for you were sinking. I saw your vessel. he was lying on the deck. while the third. His first care was to see what course they were taking.” “Where do you come from?” “From these rocks that I had the good luck to cling to while our captain and the rest of the crew were all lost. They were rapidly leaving the Chateau d’If behind. then he saw and heard nothing.

with your beard six inches. and your hair a foot long. smiling.” replied the sailor. “you looked more like a brigand than an honest man.“I almost hesitated. My captain is dead. and take his chance of keeping it afterwards. captain. I shall be sure to find employment.” said he.” said Dantes. I have barely escaped. “I made a vow. but today the vow expires.” Dantes recollected that his hair and beard had not been cut all the time he was at the Chateau d’If. anything you please. to our Lady of the Grotto not to cut my hair or beard for ten years if I were saved in a moment of danger. Leave me at the first port you make.” said the sailor who had cried “Courage!” to Dantes. “Alas.” “I say. “if what he says is true. but I am a good sailor.” 256 .” “I will do more than I promise. what hinders his staying with us?” “If he says true.” “Do you know the Mediterranean?” “I have sailed over it since my childhood. “Yes.” returned the other. “But in his present condition he will promise anything. though.” “You know the best harbors?” “There are few ports that I could not enter or leave with a bandage over my eyes. “Where are you going?” asked Dantes. “To Leghorn.” said the captain doubtingly.” “Now what are we to do with you?” said the captain. “We shall see.

felt to see if the vessel answered the rudder promptly and seeing that. “Haul taut. – “To the sheets.” The young man took the helm. “Bravo!” repeated the sailors.” “Give me what you give the others. without being a first-rate sailer. obeyed.” This order was also executed. “for you know more than we do.” said the captain. and the vessel passed. “we can agree very well.” 257 . at least during the voyage. The four seamen. And they all looked with astonishment at this man whose eye now disclosed an intelligence and his body a vigor they had not thought him capable of showing. you can leave me there. “Belay. “That’s not fair. for my food and the clothes you lend me. “I shall be of some use to you. “You see.” – They obeyed. who composed the crew.” said Dantes.” returned Dantes. and I will pay you out of the first wages I get.” “Take the helm. if you are reasonable. If you do not want me at Leghorn. and let us see what you know. do you not sail nearer the wind?” “Because we should run straight on to the Island of Rion.” “You shall pass it by twenty fathoms. “Bravo!” said the captain. quitting the helm.” said the seaman who had saved Dantes. instead of tacking so frequently. while the pilot looked on. she yet was tolerably obedient. twenty fathoms to windward. and it will be all right.“Then why. as Dantes had predicted.” “Ah.” said he.

Jacopo dived into the hold and soon returned with what Edmond wanted. “A piece of bread and another glass of the capital rum I tasted. Dantes glanced that way as he lifted the gourd to his mouth. “Larboard your helm. died away.” “That is all I want.” “No. “Hollo! what’s the matter at the Chateau d’If?” said the captain. which had attracted Dantes’ attention. and they are firing the alarm gun. crowned the summit of the bastion of the Chateau d’If.” He had not tasted food for forty hours.“What is that to you. and Jacopo offered him the gourd.” cried the captain to the steersman. if the captain had any. do you wish for anything else?” said the patron. but he had lifted the rum to his lips and was drinking it with so much composure.” “Well. “Now. if you have them. The captain glanced at him. A piece of bread was brought. The sailors looked at one another. “What is this?” asked the captain. then paused with hand in mid-air. “I only make a remark. that suspicions. At the same moment the faint report of a gun was heard. “but I have a shirt and a pair of trousers. for I have not eaten or drunk for a long time. “Every one is free to ask what he pleases. A small white cloud.” replied Jacopo. Jacopo?” returned the Captain.” replied Dantes.” “That’s true. then. 258 .” said Jacopo. “A prisoner has escaped from the Chateau d’If.” interrupted Dantes. you would do much better to find him a jacket and a pair of trousers.

“The 28th of February. glad to be relieved. Dantes could thus keep his eyes on Marseilles. the steersman.” replied the young man. “if it be. for the fastest sailer in the Mediterranean would have been unable to overtake the little tartan. Fernand. who must believe him dead. so much the better.” murmured he.” Under pretence of being fatigued.” “In what year?” “In what year – you ask me in what year?” “Yes. This oath was no longer a vain menace. He was nineteen when he entered the Chateau d’If. and the latter by a sign indicated that he might abandon it to his new comrade. I ask you what year is it?” “The year 1829. 259 . “I ask you in what year!” “You have forgotten then?” “I got such a fright last night. A sorrowful smile passed over his face. for I have made a rare acquisition.” returned Jacopo. who sat down beside him. he was thirty-three when he escaped. “What is the day of the month?” asked he of Jacopo.“At any rate. Then his eyes lighted up with hatred as he thought of the three men who had caused him so long and wretched a captivity. he asked himself what had become of Mercedes. smiling. It was fourteen years day for day since Dantes’ arrest. He renewed against Danglars. Dantes asked to take the helm. that with every stitch of canvas set was flying before the wind to Leghorn. and Villefort the oath of implacable vengeance he had made in his dungeon. “that I have almost lost my memory.” replied Dantes. looked at the captain.

was accompanied with salutes of artillery. either with the vessels he met at sea.Chapter 22: The Smugglers. or with the people without name. while it spared him interpreters. and then. and heard the distant report. It is fair to assume that Dantes was on board a smuggler. it must be owned. Without having been in the school of the Abbe Faria. as they have no visible means of support. like that of kings. and this. who are always seen on the quays of seaports. when he saw the light plume of smoke floating above the bastion of the Chateau d’If. who perhaps employed this ingenious means of learning some of the secrets of his trade. but this supposition also disappeared like the first. he had at first thought that Dantes might be an emissary of these industrious guardians of rights and duties. Dantes had not been a day on board before he had a very clear idea of the men with whom his lot had been cast. persons always troublesome and frequently indiscreet. than if the newcomer had proved to be a customs officer. when he beheld the perfect tranquillity of his recruit. This made him less uneasy. and who live by hidden and mysterious means which we must suppose to be a direct gift of providence. At first the captain had received Dantes on board with a certain degree of distrust. He was very well known to the customs officers of the coast. from the Arabic to the Provencal. country. But the skilful manner in which Dantes had handled the lugger had entirely reassured him. 260 . and as there was between these worthies and himself a perpetual battle of wits. or occupation. gave him great facilities of communication. the worthy master of The Young Amelia (the name of the Genoese tartan) knew a smattering of all the tongues spoken on the shores of that large lake called the Mediterranean. with the small boats sailing along the coast. he was instantly struck with the idea that he had on board his vessel one whose coming and going.

as we have said. Dantes had entered the Chateau d’If with the round. he remembered a barber in St. which he knew as well as Marseilles. it is possible that the Genoese was one of those shrewd persons who know nothing but what they should know. In this state of mutual understanding. He was now. and who anticipates a future corresponding with his past. he asked for a hand-glass. subtle as he was. he was to find out whether he could recognize himself. with whom the early paths of life have been smooth. This was now all changed. and his fourteen years’ imprisonment had produced a great transformation in his appearance. and was now to find out what the man had become. The Leghorn barber said nothing and went to work. Here Edmond was to undergo another trial. three-and-thirty years of age. without the owner knowing who he was. The oval face was lengthened. Ferdinand Street. The barber gazed in amazement at this man with the long. his eyebrows were arched beneath a brow furrowed with 261 . His comrades believed that his vow was fulfilled. smiling face of a young and happy man. At this period it was not the fashion to wear so large a beard and hair so long. When the operation was concluded. and his hair reduced to its usual length. Moreover. and however the old sailor and his crew tried to “pump” him. as he had not seen his own face for fourteen years. As he had twenty times touched at Leghorn. he gave accurate descriptions of Naples and Malta. he went there to have his beard and hair cut. Thus the Genoese. was duped by Edmond. his nautical skill. his smiling mouth had assumed the firm and marked lines which betoken resolution. pleaded. He had preserved a tolerably good remembrance of what the youth had been.Edmond thus had the advantage of knowing what the owner was. they extracted nothing more from him. and held stoutly to his first story. and his admirable dissimulation. in whose favor his mild demeanor. and believe nothing but what they should believe. open. which gave his head the appearance of one of Titian’s portraits. they reached Leghorn. now a barber would only be surprised if a man gifted with such advantages should consent voluntarily to deprive himself of them. thick and black hair and beard. and Edmond felt that his chin was completely smooth.

or recognize in the neat and trim sailor the man with thick and matted beard. his eyes had acquired the faculty of distinguishing objects in the night. and from their depths occasionally sparkled gloomy fires of misanthropy and hatred. Attracted by his prepossessing appearance. The master of The Young Amelia. Edmond smiled when he beheld himself: it was impossible that his best friend – if.thought. and bringing back to Jacopo the shirt and trousers he had lent him. had now that pale color which produces. indeed. his eyes were full of melancholy. and at others rough and almost hoarse. his complexion. from being so long in twilight or darkness. that vigor which a frame possesses which has so long concentrated all its force within itself. and imprecations had changed it so that at times it was of a singularly penetrating sweetness. very simple. 262 . he renewed his offers of an engagement to Dantes. would not agree for a longer time than three months. Moreover. and a cap. the profound learning he had acquired had besides diffused over his features a refined intellectual expression. whom he had picked up naked and nearly drowned. His next care on leaving the barber’s who had achieved his first metamorphosis was to enter a shop and buy a complete sailor’s suit – a garb. common to the hyena and the wolf. he had any friend left – could recognize him. It was in this costume. but Dantes. as we all know. had offered to advance him funds out of his future profits. who had his own projects. when the features are encircled with black hair. sobs. the aristocratic beauty of the man of the north. who was very desirous of retaining amongst his crew a man of Edmond’s value. which Edmond had accepted. hair tangled with seaweed. and he had also acquired. a striped shirt. so long kept from the sun. and consisting of white trousers. that Edmond reappeared before the captain of the lugger. being naturally of a goodly stature. To the elegance of a nervous and slight form had succeeded the solidity of a rounded and muscular figure. he could not recognize himself. who had made him tell his story over and over again before he could believe him. and body soaking in seabrine. prayers. As to his voice.

The Young Amelia had a very active crew. Would he not have accepted liberty without riches if it had been offered to him? Besides. contraband cottons. He had scarcely been a week at Leghorn before the hold of his vessel was filled with printed muslins. The Young Amelia left it threequarters of a league to the larboard. for he remained alone upon deck. the patron found Dantes leaning against the bulwarks gazing with intense earnestness at a pile of granite rocks. as he always did at an early hour. for he. The next morn broke off the 263 . as they passed so closely to the island whose name was so interesting to him. and went towards the country of Paoli and Napoleon. were not those riches chimerical? – offspring of the brain of the poor Abbe Faria. Evening came. and then disappear in the darkness from all eyes but his own. with vision accustomed to the gloom of a prison. Dantes thought. and tobacco on which the excise had forgotten to put its mark. from one end to the other. English powder. and Edmond saw the island tinged with the shades of twilight. and which he had so often dreamed of in prison. The next morning going on deck. the letter of the Cardinal Spada was singularly circumstantial. had they not died with him? It is true. who lost as little time as possible. They sailed. very obedient to their captain. The master was to get all this out of Leghorn free of duties. he had waited fourteen years for his liberty. Dantes had learned how to wait. continued to behold it last of all. and kept on for Corsica. without arms to defend himself? Besides. But then what could he do without instruments to discover his treasure. what would the sailors say? What would the patron think? He must wait. and now he was free he could wait at least six months or a year for wealth. which the rising sun tinged with rosy light. Edmond was again cleaving the azure sea which had been the first horizon of his youth. and land it on the shores of Corsica. and Dantes repeated it to himself. He left Gorgone on his right and La Pianosa on his left. It was the Island of Monte Cristo. where certain speculators undertook to forward the cargo to France. Fortunately. that he had only to leap into the sea and in half an hour be at the promised land. for he had not forgotten a word.

as he neared the land. which. looked upon the customs officer wounded to death. and everything proceeded with the utmost smoothness and politeness. mounted two small culverins. But the voyage was not ended. for they were rude lessons which taught him with what eye he could view danger. and each man had a hundred Tuscan livres. no doubt. and they came to within a gunshot of the shore. in truth. and in the evening saw fires lighted on land. the profits were divided. The second operation was as successful as the first. and almost pleased at being wounded. lowered her own shallop into the sea. There they had a bit of a skirmish in getting rid of the duties. This new cargo was destined for the coast of the Duchy of Lucca. the excise was. or about eighty francs. “Pain.” He had. moreover. Dantes was on the way he desired to 264 . and Malaga wines. A customs officer was laid low. sherry. Dantes was almost glad of this affray.coast of Aleria. thou art not an evil. But on this occasion the precaution was superfluous. for a ship’s lantern was hung up at the mast-head instead of the streamer. and the five boats worked so well that by two o’clock in the morning all the cargo was out of The Young Amelia and on terra firma. this sight had made but slight impression upon him. He had contemplated danger with a smile. which was to replace what had been discharged. such a man of regularity was the patron of The Young Amelia. whether from heat of blood produced by the encounter. and. and with what endurance he could bear suffering. or the chill of human sentiment. They turned the bowsprit towards Sardinia. where they intended to take in a cargo. Dantes noticed that the captain of The Young Amelia had. which. The Young Amelia was in luck. the position of these was no doubt a signal for landing. Dantes was one of the latter. and two sailors wounded. Four shallops came off with very little noise alongside the lugger. and when wounded had exclaimed with the great philosopher. a ball having touched him in the left shoulder. without making much noise. all day they coasted. and consisted almost entirely of Havana cigars. the everlasting enemy of the patron of The Young Amelia. The same night. can throw a four ounce ball a thousand paces or so. in acknowledgement of the compliment.

” We had forgotten to say that Jacopo was a Corsican. Edmond then resolved to try Jacopo. and offered him in return for his attention a share of his prize-money. Edmond. gliding on with security over the azure sea. who had nothing to expect from his comrade but the inheritance of his share of the prizemoney. Your fellow-countryman. As a result of the sympathetic devotion which Jacopo had from the first bestowed on Edmond. became the instructor of Jacopo. and rushing towards him raised him up. seeing him fall. Edmond was only wounded. Then in the long days on board ship. and with certain herbs gathered at certain seasons. had believed him killed. Bonaparte. became emperor. And from this time the kindness which Edmond showed him was enough for the brave seaman. with a chart in his hand. the latter was moved to a certain degree of affection. his heart was in a fair way of petrifying in his bosom. But this sufficed for Jacopo. And when Jacopo inquired of him. and then attended to him with all the kindness of a devoted comrade. 265 . as we have said. Jacopo. Fortunately. and sold to the smugglers by the old Sardinian women. explained to him the variations of the compass. and was moving towards the end he wished to achieve. “What is the use of teaching all these things to a poor sailor like me?” Edmond replied. when the vessel. since this man. “Who knows? You may one day be the captain of a vessel. neither was it so wicked as Dantes thought it. He pointed out to him the bearings of the coast. This world was not then so good as Doctor Pangloss believed it. thanks to the favorable winds that swelled her sails. required no care but the hand of the helmsman. as the poor Abbe Faria had been his tutor.follow. the wound soon closed. but Jacopo refused it indignantly. and taught him to read in that vast book opened over our heads which they call heaven. who instinctively felt that Edmond had a right to superiority of position – a superiority which Edmond had concealed from all others. and where God writes in azure with letters of diamonds. manifested so much sorrow when he saw him fall.

where the leading smugglers of Leghorn used to congregate and discuss affairs connected with their trade. As soon as his engagement with the patron of The Young Amelia ended. he had formed an acquaintance with all the smugglers on the coast. and seeing all these hardy free-traders. who had great confidence in him. He had passed and re-passed his Island of Monte Cristo twenty times. It was necessary to find some neutral ground on which an exchange could be made. He then formed a resolution. Already Dantes had visited this maritime Bourse two or three times. and Edmond had become as skilful a coaster as he had been a hardy seaman. he would hire a small vessel on his own account – for in his several voyages he had amassed a hundred piastres – and under some pretext land at the Island of Monte Cristo. Prison had made Edmond prudent. and was very desirous of retaining him in his service. This time it was a great matter that was under discussion. Then he would be free to make his researches. and having neither 266 . there would be a gain of fifty or sixty piastres each for the crew. took him by the arm one evening and led him to a tavern on the Via del’ Oglio. fertile as it was. and then to try and land these goods on the coast of France. and cashmeres. Dantes was tossed about on these doubts and wishes. when the patron. he had asked himself what power might not that man attain who should give the impulse of his will to all these contrary and diverging minds. which being completely deserted. he could not devise any plan for reaching the island without companionship. The patron of The Young Amelia proposed as a place of landing the Island of Monte Cristo. But in this world we must risk something. connected with a vessel laden with Turkey carpets. for he would be doubtless watched by those who accompanied him. and he was desirous of running no risk whatever. who supplied the whole coast for nearly two hundred leagues in extent. but not once had he found an opportunity of landing there.Two months and a half elapsed in these trips. If the venture was successful the profit would be enormous. and learned all the Masonic signs by which these half pirates recognize each other. stuffs of the Levant. not perhaps entirely at liberty. But in vain did he rack his imagination.

he rose to conceal his emotion. where all the languages of the known world were jumbled in a lingua franca.soldiers nor revenue officers. seemed to have been placed in the midst of the ocean since the time of the heathen Olympus by Mercury. wind and weather permitting. and that great enterprises to be well done should be done quickly. When he again joined the two persons who had been discussing the matter. to make the neutral island by the following day. Edmond. At the mention of Monte Cristo Dantes started with joy. classes of mankind which we in modern times have separated if not made distinct. the god of merchants and robbers. and. was of opinion that the island afforded every possible security. but which antiquity appears to have included in the same category. Nothing then was altered in the plan. and orders were given to get under weigh next night. and took a turn around the smoky tavern. being consulted. 267 . it had been decided that they should touch at Monte Cristo and set out on the following night.

but it brought reason to the aid of imagination. and these preparations served to conceal Dantes’ agitation. and the roof glowing with diamond stalactites. Edmond. and Dantes was then enabled to arrange a plan which had hitherto been vague and unsettled in his brain. by simple and natural means. and with it the preparation for departure. If he closed his eyes. wonderstruck. The day came at length. as subterranean waters filter in their caves. He had by degrees assumed such authority over his companions that he was almost like a commander on board. Thus. at length. and then the entrance vanished. Night came. Pearls fell drop by drop. and as his orders were always clear. distinct. One night more and he would be on his way. He ascended into grottos paved with emeralds. and easy of execution. The night was one of feverish distraction. by one of the unexpected strokes of fortune which sometimes befall those who have for a long time been the victims of an evil destiny. his comrades obeyed him with celerity and pleasure. Dantes was about to secure the opportunity he wished for. but they had suddenly receded. and was almost as feverish as the night had been. the treasure disappeared.Chapter 23: The Island of Monte Cristo. and in vain did he tax his memory for the magic and mysterious word which opened the splendid caverns of Ali Baba to the Arabian fisherman. filled his pockets with the radiant gems and then returned to daylight. and now the path became a labyrinth. and had again reverted to the genii from whom for a moment he had hoped to carry it off. with panels of rubies. All was useless. and land on the island without incurring any suspicion. and in its progress visions good and evil passed through Dantes’ mind. when be discovered that his prizes had all changed into common pebbles. 268 . amazed. He then endeavored to re-enter the marvellous grottos. he saw Cardinal Spada’s letter written on the wall in characters of flame – if he slept for a moment the wildest dreams haunted his brain.

each of which is a world. cast from solitude into the world. and regretted that he had not a daughter. in spite of a sleepless night. 269 . Dantes ordered the helmsman to put down his helm. and every sail full with the breeze. Dantes told them that all hands might turn in. frequently experienced an imperious desire for solitude. and beyond the flat but verdant Island of La Pianosa. in the silence of immensity. he could not close his eyes for a moment. or more poetical. About five o’clock in the evening the island was distinct. Edmond resigned the lugger to the master’s care. the night lighted up by his illusions. The sea was calm. as he knew that he should shorten his course by two or three knots. owing to that clearness of the atmosphere peculiar to the light which the rays of the sun cast at its setting. and what solitude is more complete. and everything on it was plainly perceptible. than that of a ship floating in isolation on the sea during the obscurity of the night. At seven o’clock in the evening all was ready. and all went to their bunks contentedly. When the patron awoke. They were making nearly ten knots an hour. the vessel was hurrying on with every sail set.The old patron did not interfere. was seen against the azure sky. The Island of Monte Cristo loomed large in the horizon. He saw in the young man his natural successor. they sailed beneath a bright blue sky. and went and lay down in his hammock. as the boat was about to double the Island of Elba. The peak of Monte Cristo reddened by the burning sun. Two hours afterwards he came on deck. They were just abreast of Mareciana. in order to leave La Pianosa to starboard. and at ten minutes past seven they doubled the lighthouse just as the beacon was kindled. that he might have bound Edmond to him by a more secure alliance. Dantes. it was sufficient. This frequently happened. and under the eye of heaven? Now this solitude was peopled with his thoughts. for he too had recognized the superiority of Dantes over the crew and himself. When the Maltese (for so they called Dantes) had said this. in which God also lighted up in turn his beacon lights. and the silence animated by his anticipations. and. but. with a fresh breeze from the south-east. and he would take the helm.

“Where shall we pass the night?” he inquired.” replied the sailor. experience the anguish which Edmond felt in his paroxysms of hope. “What. and then. and a mist passed over his eyes. have “kissed his mother earth. or even stopped up. and from time to time his cheeks flushed. but at eleven o’clock the moon rose in the midst of the ocean. “Should we not do better in the grottos?” “What grottos?” “Why. As to Dantes.” For a moment Dantes was speechless. “None. his brow darkened. from the brightest pink to the deepest blue. on board the tartan.” replied Jacopo.” It was dark. whose every wave she silvered. Dantes could not restrain his impetuosity. – it was one of her regular haunts. for 270 . but never touched at it. whose whole fortune is staked on one cast of the die. The cold sweat sprang forth on Dantes’ brow. he had passed it on his voyage to and from the Levant. then he remembered that these caves might have been filled up by some accident. are there no grottos at Monte Cristo?” he asked. He questioned Jacopo.” played in floods of pale light on the rocky hills of this second Pelion. Night came. the grottos – caves of the island. like Lucius Brutus. The Young Amelia was first at the rendezvous. He was the first to jump on shore. The island was familiar to the crew of The Young Amelia. he would.” “I do not know of any grottos. and had he dared. In spite of his usual command over himself. Never did gamester.Edmond gazed very earnestly at the mass of rocks which gave out all the variety of twilight colors. and at ten o’clock they anchored. “Why. “ascending high.

Besides. had they gone a quarter of a league when. fearing if he did so that he might incur distrust. then. However. Jacopo insisted on following him. but. Dantes declared his intention to go and kill some of the wild goats that were seen springing from rock to rock. he begged Jacopo to take it to his comrades. he almost feared that he had already said too much. to discover the hidden entrance. and the glimmerings of gayety seen beneath this cloud were indeed but transitory. and to which The Young Amelia replied by a similar signal. indicated that the moment for business had come. and Dantes did not oppose this. The point was. soon came in sight. and who were all busy preparing the repast which Edmond’s skill as a marksman had augmented with a capital dish. looking from time to time behind and around about him. whom Jacopo had rejoined. 271 . and shot. and request them to cook it. taking a fowlingpiece. It was useless to search at night. was the bill of fare. aroused suspicions. a thousand feet beneath him. and when next day. powder. if he gave utterance to the one unchanging thought that pervaded his heart. his minute observations and evident pre-occupation. his painful past gave to his countenance an indelible sadness. as he worked. white and silent as a phantom. far from disclosing this precious secret. Dantes went on. Fortunately. The boat that now arrived. his wish was construed into a love of sport. Then the landing began. and cast anchor within a cable’s length of shore. Having reached the summit of a rock. he could evoke from all these men. This and some dried fruits and a flask of Monte Pulciano. a signal made half a league out at sea. and Dantes therefore delayed all investigation until the morning. Dantes reflected. however. and by his restlessness and continual questions. with a single word. he saw. on the shout of joy which. and when ready to let him know by firing a gun. assured by the answering signal that all was well.the sake of greater security. or a desire for solitude. as regarded this circumstance at least. Scarcely. his companions. No one had the slightest suspicion. by Cardinal Spada. having killed a kid.

which apparently had been made with some degree of regularity. Might it not have been the cardinal himself who had first traced them. which spread into large bushes laden with blossoms. human foot had never before trod. unerring Faria could not be mistaken in this one thing. then they will return with a fortune of six hundred francs. and panted for wealth.Edmond looked at them for a moment with the sad and gentle smile of a man superior to his fellows. as it invests all things of the mind with forgetfulness. The wise. marks made by the hand of man. no!” exclaimed Edmond. by a cleft between two walls of rock. At this moment hope makes me despise their riches. Keeping along the shore. on certain rocks. and waste this treasure in some city with the pride of sultans and the insolence of nabobs. Occasionally the marks were hidden under tufts of myrtle. The cause was not in Dantes. who but three months before had no desire but liberty had now not liberty enough. it were better to die than to continue to lead this low and wretched life. and probably with a definite purpose. So Edmond had to separate the branches or brush away the moss to know where the guide-marks were. Dantes approached the spot where he supposed the grottos must have existed. and which. to go and risk their lives again by endeavoring to gain fifty more. which seem to me contemptible. on compulsion. “In two hours’ time. “these persons will depart richer by fifty piastres each. Time. or beneath parasitical lichen. but in providence. The sight of marks renewed Edmond fondest hopes. Oh. This solitary place was precisely suited to the requirements of a man desirous of 272 . which he could not foresee would have been so complete. Besides. seemed to have respected these signs.” said he. he thought he could trace. in all human probability. in order that they might serve as a guide for his nephew in the event of a catastrophe. and examining the smallest object with serious attention. Meanwhile. which encrusts all physical substances with its mossy mantle. has filled him with boundless desires. Yet perchance tomorrow deception will so act on me. “that will not be. consider such a contemptible possession as the utmost happiness. that I shall. who. while limiting the power of man.” Thus Dantes. following a path worn by a torrent.

however. for all loved Edmond in spite of his superiority. spread out the fruit and bread. was the only spot to which they seemed to lead. Only. who was hidden from his comrades by the inequalities of the ground. that he could not bear to be moved. and he therefore turned round and retraced his steps. He found Edmond lying prone. and ran quickly towards them. As for himself. They poured a little rum down his throat. and cooked the kid. A large round rock. who had not his reasons for fasting. yet Jacopo reached him first. The sailors did not require much urging. to Edmond. It may be supposed that Dantes did not now think of his dinner. and that when they returned he should be easier.burying treasure. that at sixty paces from the harbor the marks ceased. Meanwhile his comrades had prepared the repast. but he insisted that his comrades. with heavy groans. although under Jacopo’s directions. placed solidly on its base. They all rushed towards him. he declared that he had only need of a little rest. and almost senseless. produced the same effect as formerly. Edmond concluded that perhaps instead of having reached the end of the route he had only explored its beginning. nor did they terminate at any grotto. He had rolled down a declivity of twelve or fifteen feet. bleeding. and they fired the signal agreed upon. Edmond opened his eyes. and they saw him stagger on the edge of a rock and disappear. But even while they watched his daring progress. should have their meal. Just at the moment when they were taking the dainty animal from the spit. he declared. but when they touched him. and this remedy which had before been so beneficial to him. Edmond’s foot slipped. and severe pains in his loins. might not these betraying marks have attracted other eyes than those for whom they were made? and had the dark and wondrous island indeed faithfully guarded its precious secret? It seemed. had got some water from a spring. They wished to carry him to the shore. and the smell of the roasted 273 . They were hungry. The sportsman instantly changed his direction. complained of great pain in his knee. they saw Edmond springing with the boldness of a chamois from rock to rock. a feeling of heaviness in his head.

he is an excellent fellow.” said the patron.kid was very savory. to kill the kids or defend myself at need.” Dantes declared. We will not go till evening. Edmond made great exertions in order to comply.” said the patron. with sails partly set.” he said to the patron. The old patron. who was obliged to sail in the morning in order to land his cargo on the frontiers of Piedmont and France. between Nice and Frejus. no. and your tars are not very ceremonious. The patron was so strict that this was the first time they had ever seen him give up an enterprise. “We cannot leave you here so.” 274 . in a low voice. however. instead of growing easier. urged Dantes to try and rise. and it is just that I pay the penalty of my clumsiness.” was Edmond reply. and. which was rolling on the swell in the little harbor. “I was awkward. “than suffer the inexpressible agonies which the slightest movement causes me. moaning and turning pale.” This very much astonished the sailors.” “But you’ll die of hunger. “I would rather do so. “No matter. and balls. “let what may happen. and yet we cannot stay. Dantes would not allow that any such infraction of regular and proper rules should be made in his favor. it shall never be said that we deserted a good comrade like you. would be ready for sea when her toilet should be completed. Dantes’ pains appeared to increase in violence. Leave me a small supply of biscuit. powder. But. “Well.” said the commander. not one opposed it. a gun. or even delay in its execution. but at each effort he fell back. “What are we to do. Maltese?” asked the captain. “He has broken his ribs.” The patron turned towards his vessel. We will try and carry him on board the tartan. An hour afterwards they returned. that he would rather die where he was than undergo the agony which the slightest movement cost him. and a pickaxe. and we must not leave him. although. “No. that I may build a shelter if you delay in coming back for me. All that Edmond had been able to do was to drag himself about a dozen paces forward to lean against a moss-grown rock.

“if in two or three days you hail any fishing-boat. At the end of an hour she was completely out of sight. go!” exclaimed Dantes. “and then we must run out of our course to come here and take you up again.” replied Edmond.” said the patron. he said with a smile. I will pay twenty-five piastres for my passage back to Leghorn. as if he could not move the rest of his body. and I hope I shall find among the rocks certain herbs most excellent for bruises. set sail. but I do not wish any one to stay with me.” Then he dragged himself cautiously to the top of a rock.” “Why. but not without turning about several times. return for me.” said Jacopo. “We shall be absent at least a week.” said Dantes. “and heaven will recompense you for your generous intentions. – “‘Tis strange that it should be among such men that we find proofs of friendship and devotion. “to remain with me?” “Yes. at 275 . and thence he saw the tartan complete her preparations for sailing.” The patron shook his head. If you do not come across one. desire them to come here to me. to which Edmond replied with his hand only. Captain Baldi. and. and I will stay and take care of the wounded man.” A peculiar smile passed over Dantes’ lips. “and without any hesitation.” “You are a good fellow and a kind-hearted messmate.” said Edmond. “Do you go. but nothing could shake his determination to remain – and remain alone. he squeezed Jacopo’s hand warmly. A day or two of rest will set me up. and each time making signs of a cordial farewell. there’s one way of settling this. balancing herself as gracefully as a water-fowl ere it takes to the wing.“Go. “Listen.” “And give up your share of the venture. The smugglers left with Edmond what he had requested and set sail. Then. when they had disappeared. weigh anchor. from which he had a full view of the sea.” said Jacopo.

which Faria had related to him. Then Dantes rose more agile and light than the kid among the myrtles and shrubs of these wild rocks. “And now.least. it was impossible for the wounded man to see her any longer from the spot where he was. open sesame!” 276 . took his gun in one hand. and hastened towards the rock on which the marks he had noted terminated. “now. his pickaxe in the other.” he exclaimed. remembering the tale of the Arabian fisherman.

the island was inhabited. It was at the brigantine that had left in the morning. or upon the almost imperceptible line that to the experienced eye of a sailor alone revealed the coast of Genoa the proud. laid down his pickaxe. or on Sardinia. He saw that he was on the highest point of the island. and his scorching rays fell full on the rocks. the other. seized his gun. that he gazed. with its historical associations. or on the Island of Elba. He felt an indescribable sensation somewhat akin to dread – that dread of the daylight which even in the desert makes us fear we are watched and observed. chirped with a monotonous and dull note. He then looked at the objects near him. 277 . yet Edmond felt himself alone. hidden in the bushes. that Edmond fixed his eyes. This sight reassured him. This feeling was so strong that at the moment when Edmond was about to begin his labor. afar off he saw the wild goats bounding from crag to crag.Chapter 24: The Secret Cave. nothing human appearing in sight. while the blue ocean beat against the base of the island. – a statue on this vast pedestal of granite. following an opposite direction. In a word. But it was not upon Corsica. the very houses of which he could distinguish. and the tartan that had just set sail. The first was just disappearing in the straits of Bonifacio. Then he descended with cautious and slow step. The sun had nearly reached the meridian. At every step that Edmond took he disturbed the lizards glittering with the hues of the emerald. he stopped. was about to round the Island of Corsica. and from thence gazed round in every direction. which seemed themselves sensible of the heat. and Leghorn the commercial. Thousands of grasshoppers. the leaves of the myrtle and olive trees waved and rustled in the wind. and covered it with a fringe of foam. guided by the hand of God. mounted to the summit of the highest rock. for he dreaded lest an accident similar to that he had so adroitly feigned should happen in reality.

had traced the marks along the rocks. stripped off its branches. Dantes dug away the earth carefully. But how? He cast his eyes around. One thing only perplexed Edmond. and deep in the centre. or fancied he detected. and detected. This creek was sufficiently wide at its mouth. He soon perceived that a slope had been formed. to admit of the entrance of a small vessel of the lugger class. this species of masonry had been covered with earth. to be moved by any one man. How could this rock. He smiled. without the aid of many men? Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind. concealed his little barque. inserted it in the hole. Then following the clew that. and he had noticed that they led to a small creek. With the aid of his pickaxe. were he Hercules himself. and too firmly wedged. Instead of raising it. followed the line marked by the notches in the rock. have been lifted to this spot. which was hidden like the bath of some ancient nymph. so as to conceal the orifice. which weighed several tons. and a hole large enough to insert the arm was opened. the ingenious artifice. He attacked this wall. A large stone had served as a wedge. thought he. they have lowered it.Dantes. and destroyed his theory. Dantes saw that he must attack the wedge. the infernal invention would serve him for this purpose. which would be perfectly concealed from observation. After ten minutes’ labor the wall gave way. had been so skilfully used to guide him through the Daedalian labyrinth of probabilities. It was this idea that had brought Dantes back to the circular rock. But the rock was too heavy. and at the end of it had buried his treasure. And he sprang from the rock in order to inspect the base on which it had formerly stood. flints and pebbles had been inserted around it. after the manner of a labor-saving pioneer. Dantes. cemented by the hand of time. with his pickaxe. dug 278 . myrtle-bushes had taken root. had entered the creek. and the old rock seemed fixed to the earth. as we have said. moss had clung to the stones. in the hands of the Abbe Faria. and the rock had slid along this until it stopped at the spot it now occupied. and used it as a lever. anxious not to be watched. and grass and weeds had grown there. he thought that the Cardinal Spada. and saw the horn full of powder which his friend Jacopo had left him. Dantes went and cut the strongest olive-tree he could find.

then. already shaken by the explosion. after having been elated by flattering hopes. rolled over. then made a match by rolling his handkerchief in saltpetre. the lower one flew into pieces. bounded from point to point. and his heart beat so violently. like the guardian demon of the treasure. He lighted it and retired. pursued them as I have done. placed his lever in one of the crevices. and disappeared. leaned towards the sea. that he was forced to pause. He would fain have continued. Dantes redoubled his efforts. would be the use of all I have suffered? The heart breaks when. perhaps he never came here. never had a first attempt been crowned with more perfect success. he seemed like one of the ancient Titans. hesitated. “Come. The intrepid treasure-seeker walked round it. The rock. but his knees trembled. selecting the spot from whence it appeared most susceptible to attack. Any one else would have rushed on with a cry of joy. or if he did. the Cardinal Spada buried no treasure here.” said he to himself.a mine between the upper rock and the one that supported it. Edmond inserted his lever in the ring and exerted all his strength. the intrepid adventurer. who uprooted the mountains to hurl against the father of the gods. and disclosed steps that descended until they were lost in the obscurity of a subterraneous grotto. and finally disappeared in the ocean. raised the stone. and strained every nerve to move the mass. Dantes uttered a cry of joy and surprise. without any support. I am accustomed to adversity. which now. tottered on its base. “be a man. The rock yielded. This feeling lasted but for a moment. The explosion soon followed. thousands of insects escaped from the aperture Dantes had previously formed. exposing an iron ring let into a square flag-stone. and reflected. the upper rock was lifted from its base by the terrific force of the powder. rolled himself along in darkening coils. On the spot it had occupied was a circular space. the stealthy and indefatigable plunderer. and his sight became so dim. What. I must not be cast down by the discovery that I have been deceived. discovered his traces. 279 . filled it with powder. Faria has dreamed this. Dantes approached the upper rock. and. the flag-stone yielded. and a huge snake. has followed him. Caesar Borgia. it sees all its illusions destroyed. Dantes turned pale.

could pierce even to the remotest angles of the cavern. the atmosphere of which was rather warm than damp. and through which he could distinguish the blue sky and the waving branches of the evergreen oaks. a torch in one hand. at the foot of this rock. Dantes’ eye. knew too well the value of time to waste it in replacing this rock. Dantes saw a dim and bluish light. a sword in the other. as well as the air. Borgia has been here. “Now that I expect nothing.” “Yet.” replied he. which.” thought Dantes. Yes. entered. not merely by the aperture he had just formed. which was of granite that sparkled like 280 . the end of this adventure becomes simply a matter of curiosity. and the tendrils of the creepers that grew from the rocks. and murmuring that last word of human philosophy. as I am about to descend. this is an adventure worthy a place in the varied career of that royal bandit. I will go down.” He remained motionless and pensive. “of those who buried Alaric. and Borgia. habituated as it was to darkness.” Then he descended. “Yes. “The fate. This fabulous event formed but a link in a long chain of marvels. had he come. dispelling the darkness before his awe-inspiring progress. a smile on his lips. perhaps two guards kept watch on land and sea. yes. he who compared Italy to an artichoke. while their master descended. “he would have found the treasure.” “But what was the fate of the guards who thus possessed his secret?” asked Dantes of himself. his eyes fixed on the gloomy aperture that was open at his feet. and within twenty paces. “Perhaps!” But instead of the darkness.” And he remained again motionless and thoughtful. and the thick and mephitic atmosphere he had expected to find. which he could devour leaf by leaf. now that I no longer entertain the slightest hopes. has left me nothing. but by the interstices and crevices of the rock which were visible from without. smiling.and descending before me. After having stood a few minutes in the cavern.

However. alleging to himself. As he struck the wall. struck the earth with the butt of his gun. and painted to imitate granite. smiling. and sounded one part of the wall where he fancied the opening existed. as an excuse. At last it seemed to him that one part of the wall gave forth a more hollow and deeper echo. he examined the stones. seeing in a dream these glittering walls. passed his hand over his brow. he sounded all the other walls with his pickaxe. and a feeling of discouragement stole over him. and. and remounted the stairs. Dantes continued his search. Then a singular thing occurred. He again struck it. and the sun seemed to cover it 281 . and with greater force. he. so did his heart give way. the pickaxe descended. and finding nothing that appeared suspicious. has indulged in fallacious hopes. pieces of stucco similar to that used in the ground work of arabesques broke off. “these are the treasures the cardinal has left. “Alas. the opening must be. He reflected that this second grotto must penetrate deeper into the island. like Caesar Borgia. returned to that part of the wall whence issued the consoling sound he had before heard. masked for precaution’s sake. But by some strange play of emotion. He had only found the first grotto. The island was deserted. deprived him of it. and fell to the ground in flakes. “In the farthest angle of the second opening. instead of giving him fresh strength. The aperture of the rock had been closed with stones. saw that there. a desire to be assured that no one was watching him. in all probability. exposing a large white stone. in order to avoid fruitless toil. which entered someway between the interstices. which he knew by heart.” said the cardinal’s will. had not been deceived became stronger.” said Edmond. knew the value of time. Dantes struck with the sharp end of his pickaxe. This last proof. he had now to seek the second. but in reality because he felt that he was about to faint. he placed it on the ground. he eagerly advanced. in proportion as the proofs that Faria.” But he called to mind the words of the will. then this stucco had been applied. It was there he must dig. The pickaxe struck for a moment with a dull sound that drew out of Dantes’ forehead large drops of perspiration. or rather fell. and with the quickness of perception that no one but a prisoner possesses. and the good abbe.diamonds.

The aperture was already sufficiently large for him to enter. with joy soon saw the stone turn as if on hinges. Never did funeral knell. At the left of the opening was a dark and deep angle. was buried in this corner. a few small fishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean. sprang through the opening. He glanced around this second grotto. and then went on. and Dantes’ fate would be decided. never did alarm-bell. he could still cling to hope. but by waiting. and retard the certainty of deception. At last. This would have 282 . After several blows he perceived that the stones were not cemented. and fall at his feet. the air that could only enter by the newly formed opening had the mephitic smell Dantes was surprised not to find in the outer cavern. “It is a casket of wood bound with iron. and using the handle as a lever. afar off. two feet of earth removed. he seized it. He again struck his pickaxe into the earth. after renewed hesitation. The time had at length arrived. and summoning all his resolution. and covered with stucco. but he thought not of hunger at such a moment. He advanced towards the angle. and was feeding at a little distance. but had been merely placed one upon the other. But to Dantes’ eye there was no darkness. At the fifth or sixth blow the pickaxe struck against an iron substance. Dantes seized his gun. it was.with its fiery glance. if it existed. A wild goat had passed before the mouth of the cave.” thought he. He waited in order to allow pure air to displace the foul atmosphere. he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum. attacked the ground with the pickaxe. He had nothing more to do now. Had Dantes found nothing he could not have become more ghastly pale. Dantes entered the second grotto. The pickaxe that had seemed so heavy. The treasure. but with the iron tooth of the pickaxe to draw the stones towards him one by one. The second grotto was lower and more gloomy than the first. and encountered the same resistance. empty. was now like a feather in his grasp. produce a greater effect on the hearer. and attacked the wall. At this moment a shadow passed rapidly before the opening. and again entered the cavern. but not the same sound. like the first. Dantes had tasted nothing. he inserted the point of his pickaxe. and mounted the stair.

and the chest was open. saw that his pickaxe had in reality struck against iron and wood. a sword. Edmond was seized with vertigo. He sought to open it. the arms of the Spada family – viz. but Dantes feared lest the report of his gun should attract attention. bound with cut steel. in the second. like all the Italian armorial bearings. pearls. He approached the hole he had dug. pale. Dantes inserted the sharp end of the pickaxe between the coffer and the lid. In the first. in the middle of the lid he saw engraved on a silver plate. He thought a moment. still holding in their grasp fragments of the wood. which possessed nothing attractive save their value. then he re-opened them. and pressing with all his force on the handle. He wished to see everything. cut a branch of a resinous tree. Dantes seized the handles. he cocked his gun and laid it beside him.been a favorable occasion to secure his dinner. and surmounted by a cardinal’s hat. these faithful guardians seemed unwilling to surrender their trust. The hinges yielded in their turn and fell. Three compartments divided the coffer.. and strove to lift the coffer. He planted his torch in the ground and resumed his labor. burst open the fastenings. as they fell on 283 . In an instant a space three feet long by two feet broad was cleared. and descended with this torch. and he saw successively the lock. which was still untarnished. in the third. on an oval shield. and now. when art rendered the commonest metals precious. and rubies. lighted it at the fire at which the smugglers had prepared their breakfast. Edmond grasped handfuls of diamonds. and Dantes could see an oaken coffer. it was impossible. were ranged bars of unpolished gold. There was no longer any doubt: the treasure was there – no one would have been at such pains to conceal an empty casket. and stood motionless with amazement. which. placed between two padlocks. all carved as things were carved at that epoch. and the two handles at each end. lock and padlock were fastened. In an instant he had cleared every obstacle away. Dantes easily recognized them. blazed piles of golden coin. He then closed his eyes as children do in order that they may see in the resplendent night of their own imagination more stars than are visible in the firmament. with the aid of the torch. Faria had so often drawn them for him.

and bearing the effigies of Alexander VI. Edmond rushed through the caverns like a man seized with frenzy. clasping his hands convulsively. 284 . It was a night of joy and terror. and then rushed madly about the rocks of Monte Cristo. A piece of biscuit and a small quantity of rum formed his supper. for only now did he begin to realize his felicity. uttered a prayer intelligible to God alone. sounded like hail against glass. examined these treasures. then he piled up twenty-five thousand crowns. and found himself before this mine of gold and jewels. and his predecessors. and yet he had not strength enough. and he snatched a few hours’ sleep. terrifying the wild goats and scaring the sea-fowls with his wild cries and gestures. felt. He then set himself to work to count his fortune. mounted by the most famous workmen. rushed into the grotto. still unable to believe the evidence of his senses. for an instant he leaned his head in his hands as if to prevent his senses from leaving him. lying over the mouth of the cave. There were a thousand ingots of gold. left it. diamonds. After having touched. and he saw that the complement was not half empty. such as this man of stupendous emotions had already experienced twice or thrice in his lifetime.one another. he leaped on a rock. And he measured ten double handfuls of pearls. and other gems. and fearing to be surprised in the cavern. each worth about eighty francs of our money. his gun in his hand. This time he fell on his knees. or was it but a dream? He would fain have gazed upon his gold. these unheard-of treasures! was he awake. many of which. and. He soon became calmer and more happy. Dantes saw the light gradually disappear. then he returned. were valuable beyond their intrinsic worth. and. He was alone – alone with these countless. each weighing from two to three pounds. from whence he could behold the sea.

although successful in landing their cargo in safety. he replaced the stone. put the box together as well and securely as he could. but it wore the same wild. the smugglers returned. and to assume the rank. This done. With the first light Dantes resumed his search. he lifted the stone. barren aspect when seen by the rays of the morning sun which it had done when surveyed by the fading glimmer of eve. He then inquired how they had fared in their trip. heaping on it broken masses of rocks and rough fragments of crumbling granite. quitting the grotto. Again he climbed the rocky height he had ascended the previous evening. sprinkled fresh sand over the spot from which it had been taken. and then carefully trod down the earth to give it everywhere a uniform appearance. they had scarcely done so when they received intelligence that a guard285 . then carefully watering these new plantations. leaving the approach to the cavern as savage-looking and untrodden as he had found it. and influence which are always accorded to wealth – that first and greatest of all the forces within the grasp of man. he still suffered acutely from his late accident. From a distance Dantes recognized the rig and handling of The Young Amelia. Day. then.Chapter 25: The Unknown. power. Descending into the grotto. To this question the smugglers replied that. he scrupulously effaced every trace of footsteps. although considerably better than when they quitted him. into which he deftly inserted rapidly growing plants. and strained his view to catch every peculiarity of the landscape. which yearned to return to dwell among mankind. for which Dantes had so eagerly and impatiently waited with open eyes. To wait at Monte Cristo for the purpose of watching like a dragon over the almost incalculable riches that had thus fallen into his possession satisfied not the cravings of his heart. filling the interstices with earth. On the sixth day. again dawned. filled his pockets with gems. and dragging himself with affected difficulty towards the landing-place. he impatiently awaited the return of his companions. he met his companions with an assurance that. such as the wild myrtle and flowering thorn.

Arrived at Leghorn. This obliged them to make all the speed they could to evade the enemy. and proceeded with the captain to Leghorn. he embarked that same evening. Dantes half feared that such valuable jewels in the hands of a poor sailor like himself might excite suspicion. when they could but lament the absence of Dantes. but the cunning purchaser asked no troublesome questions concerning a bargain by which he gained a round profit of at least eighty per cent. which Dantes hastened to account for by saying that he had merely been a sailor from whim and a desire to spite his family. night came on. he repaired to the house of a Jew.ship had just quitted the port of Toulon and was crowding all sail towards them. and enabled them to double the Cape of Corsica. Jacopo could scarcely believe his senses at receiving this magnificent present. the trip had been sufficiently successful to satisfy all concerned. In fact. which amounted to no less a sum than fifty piastres each. and particularly Jacopo. fortunately. not suffering the faintest indication of a smile to escape him at the enumeration of all the benefits he would have reaped had he been able to quit the island. but that on his arrival at Leghorn he had come into possession of a 286 . Edmond preserved the most admirable self-command. a dealer in precious stones. and also a young woman called Mercedes. however. accompanying the gift by a donation of one hundred piastres. to whom he disposed of four of his smallest diamonds for five thousand francs each. Upon the whole. expressed great regrets that Dantes had not been an equal sharer with themselves in the profits. who did not allow him as much money as he liked to spend. that he might provide himself with a suitable crew and other requisites for his outfit. the pursuing vessel had almost overtaken them when. while the crew. whose superior skill in the management of a vessel would have availed them so materially. an inhabitant of the Catalan village. and so elude all further pursuit. The following day Dantes presented Jacopo with an entirely new vessel. but as The Young Amelia had merely come to Monte Cristo to fetch him away. residing in the Allees de Meillan. upon condition that he would go at once to Marseilles for the purpose of inquiring after an old man named Louis Dantes.

To the captain he promised to write when he had made up his mind as to his future plans. who at first tried all his powers of persuasion to induce him to remain as one of the crew. he ceased to importune him further. having heard that the Genoese excelled all other builders along the shores of the Mediterranean in the construction of fastsailing vessels. offering sixty thousand francs. retired with the latter for a few minutes to a small back parlor. left him by an uncle. The delighted builder then offered his services in providing a suitable crew for the little vessel.large fortune. Dantes proceeded to make his final adieus on board The Young Amelia. was desirous of possessing a specimen of their skill. Dantes. applied to its owner to transfer it to him. Dantes took leave of the captain. the price agreed upon between the Englishman and the Genoese builder was forty thousand francs. with directions from Dantes to join him at the Island of Monte Cristo. The superior education of Dantes gave an air of such extreme probability to this statement that it never once occurred to Jacopo to doubt its accuracy. and expressions of cordial interest in all that concerned him. and upon their return the Jew counted out to the shipbuilder the sum of sixty thousand francs in bright gold pieces. this yacht had been built by order of an Englishman. Dantes led the owner of the yacht to the dwelling of a Jew. struck with the beauty and capability of the little vessel. 287 . and was not expected back in less than three weeks or a month. upon condition that he should be allowed to take immediate possession. Then Dantes departed for Genoa. who. A bargain was therefore struck. At the moment of his arrival a small yacht was under trial in the bay. the more so as the person for whom the yacht was intended had gone upon a tour through Switzerland. The following morning Jacopo set sail for Marseilles. but this Dantes declined with many thanks. but having been told the history of the legacy. whose sole heir he was. Having seen Jacopo fairly out of the harbor. The term for which Edmond had engaged to serve on board The Young Amelia having expired. The proposal was too advantageous to be refused. by which time the builder reckoned upon being able to complete another. distributing so liberal a gratuity among her crew as to secure for him the good wishes of all.

he dropped anchor in the little creek. Dantes had carefully noted the general appearance of the shore. The boat. and at Monte Cristo he arrived at the close of the second day. and ere nightfall the whole of his immense wealth was safely deposited in the compartments of the secret locker. bets were offered to any amount that she was bound for Spain. The island was utterly deserted. Yet thither it was that Dantes guided his vessel. so constructed as to be concealed from all but himself. while Africa was positively reported by many persons as her intended course. indeed. Dantes furnishing the dimensions and plan in accordance with which they were to be constructed. Early on the following morning he commenced the removal of his riches. others the Island of Elba. and. The builder cheerfully undertook the commission. Some insisted she was making for Corsica.saying he was accustomed to cruise about quite alone. and bore no evidence of having been visited since he went away. under the inspection of an immense crowd drawn together by curiosity to see the rich Spanish nobleman who preferred managing his own yacht. the only thing the builder could oblige him in would be to contrive a sort of secret closet in the cabin at his bed’s head. But their wonder was soon changed to admiration at seeing the perfect skill with which Dantes handled the helm. and promised to have these secret places completed by the next day. his treasure was just as he had left it. seemed to be animated with almost human intelligence. and had come the distance from Genoa in thirty-five hours. but no one thought of Monte Cristo. instead of landing at the usual place. The spectators followed the little vessel with their eyes as long as it remained visible. they then turned their conjectures upon her probable destination. the closet to contain three divisions. so promptly did it obey the slightest touch. and Dantes required but a short trial of his beautiful craft to acknowledge that the Genoese had not without reason attained their high reputation in the art of shipbuilding. The following day Dantes sailed with his yacht from Genoa. and his principal pleasure consisted in managing his yacht himself. 288 . his boat had proved herself a first-class sailer.

leaping lightly ashore. till at the end of that time he was perfectly conversant with its good and bad qualities. The former Dantes proposed to augment.A week passed by. Still Dantes could not view without a shudder the approach of a gendarme who accompanied the officers deputed to demand his bill of health ere the yacht was permitted to hold communication with the shore. Old Dantes was dead. on the never-to-be-forgotten night of his departure for the Chateau d’If. Dantes coolly presented an English passport he 289 . that he ran no risk of recognition. followed by the little fishingboat. For his father’s death he was in some manner prepared. he had now the means of adopting any disguise he thought proper. Dantes listened to these melancholy tidings with outward calmness. but. There were. A mournful answer awaited each of Edmond’s eager inquiries as to the information Jacopo had obtained. One fine morning. In a couple of hours he returned. studying it as a skilful horseman would the animal he destined for some important service. Two of the men from Jacopo’s boat came on board the yacht to assist in navigating it. besides. He immediately signalled it. Dantes could not give sufficiently clear instructions to an agent. he recognized it as the boat he had given to Jacopo. other particulars he was desirous of ascertaining. and in two hours afterwards the newcomer lay at anchor beside the yacht. Upon the eighth day he discerned a small vessel under full sail approaching Monte Cristo. but with that perfect self-possession he had acquired during his acquaintance with Faria. His signal was returned. and those were of a nature he alone could investigate in a manner satisfactory to himself. he had been put on board the boat destined to convey him thither. boldly entered the port of Marseilles. moreover. As it drew near. and he gave orders that she should be steered direct to Marseilles. during his stay at Leghorn. but he knew not how to account for the mysterious disappearance of Mercedes. his yacht. and Mercedes had disappeared. he signified his desire to be quite alone. the latter to remedy. Without divulging his secret. Dantes employed it in manoeuvring his yacht round the island. His looking-glass had assured him. and anchored exactly opposite the spot from whence. then.

Edmond welcomed the meeting with this fellow – who had been one of his own sailors – as a sure means of testing the extent of the change which time had worked in his own appearance.” So extreme was the surprise of the sailor. so pregnant with fond and filial remembrances. a mist floated over his sight. Dantes.had obtained from Leghorn. Giving the sailor a piece of money in return for his civility. The first person to attract the attention of Dantes. and had he not clung for support to one 290 . whose receding figure he continued to gaze after in speechless astonishment. went on his way.” “Thank you. Going straight towards him. that he passed but seemed filled with dear and cherished memories. as he landed on the Canebiere. Dantes instantly turned to meet him. as you say. his first and most indelible recollections were there. Each step he trod oppressed his heart with fresh emotion. my good friend.” said the honest fellow. his knees tottered under him. but not a word or look implied that he had the slightest idea of ever having seen before the person with whom he was then conversing. “Some nabob from India. and as this gave him a standing which a French passport would not have afforded. sir. you intended to give me a twofranc piece. meanwhile. that you may drink to my health. “I beg your pardon. Dantes proceeded onwards. carefully watching the man’s countenance as he did so. not a tree. he was informed that there existed no obstacle to his immediate debarkation. At this spot. but ere he had gone many steps he heard the man loudly calling him to stop. he propounded a variety of questions on different subjects. And thus he proceeded onwards till he arrived at the end of the Rue de Noailles. and be able to ask your messmates to join you. was one of the crew belonging to the Pharaon. in almost breathless haste. but by way of rewarding your honesty I give you another double Napoleon. that he was unable even to thank Edmond. not a street.” was his comment. from whence a full view of the Allees de Meillan was obtained. and see. his heart beat almost to bursting. “but I believe you made a mistake. I see that I have made a trifling mistake. you gave me a double Napoleon.

Though answered in the negative. which his father had delighted to train before his window. Leaning against the tree. they both accompanied him downstairs. vainly calling for his son. but they felt the sacredness of his grief. and stopped not again till he found himself at the door of the house in which his father had lived. he begged so earnestly to be permitted to visit those on the fifth floor. he wiped the perspiration from his brows. and assuring him that their poor dwelling would ever be open to him.of the trees. and ask permission for a gentleman to be allowed to look at them. and seeing them. The nasturtiums and other plants. while. The bed belonging to the present occupants was placed as the former owner of the chamber had been accustomed to have his. Dantes succeeded in inducing the man to go up to the tenants. the eyes of Edmond were suffused in tears as he reflected that on that spot the old man had breathed his last. while the articles of antiquated furniture with which the rooms had been filled in Edmond’s time had all disappeared. Recovering himself. The young couple gazed with astonishment at the sight of their visitor’s emotion. they left him to indulge his sorrow alone. in despite of the oft-repeated assurance of the concierge that they were occupied. he gazed thoughtfully for a time at the upper stories of the shabby little house. the very paper was different. the four walls alone remained as he had left them. had all disappeared from the upper part of the house. Dantes sighed heavily. and wondered to see the large tears silently chasing each other down his otherwise stern and immovable features. that. reiterating their hope that he would come again whenever he pleased. When he withdrew from the scene of his painful recollections. he would inevitably have fallen to the ground and been crushed beneath the many vehicles continually passing there. and kindly refrained from questioning him as to its cause. in spite of his efforts to prevent it. and. As Edmond passed the 291 . Then he advanced to the door. Nothing in the two small chambers forming the apartments remained as it had been in the time of the elder Dantes. however. with instinctive delicacy. The tenants of the humble lodging were a young couple who had been scarcely married a week. and asked whether there were any rooms to be let.

The delighted recipients of these munificent gifts would gladly have poured out their thanks to their generous benefactor. that the person in question had got into difficulties. with two seines and a tender. consisting of an entirely new fishing-boat. under the name of Lord Wilmore (the name and title inscribed on his passport). The very same day the occupants of the apartments on the fifth floor of the house. merely give some orders to a sailor. none of which was anywhere near the truth. were duly informed by the notary who had arranged the necessary transfer of deeds. but he received. without the least augmentation of rent. upon condition of their giving instant possession of the two small chambers they at present inhabited. and. now become the property of Dantes. But what raised public astonishment to a climax. This strange event aroused great wonder and curiosity in the neighborhood of the Allees de Meillan. But on the following day the family from whom all these particulars had been asked received a handsome present. and a multitude of theories were afloat. and then springing lightly on horseback. and to pass more than an hour in inquiring after persons who had either been dead or gone away for more than fifteen or sixteen years. and afterwards observed to enter a poor fisherman’s hut. 292 . purchased the small dwelling for the sum of twenty-five thousand francs. he paused to inquire whether Caderousse the tailor still dwelt there.. was the knowledge that the same stranger who had in the morning visited the Allees de Meillan had been seen in the evening walking in the little village of the Catalans. at least ten thousand more than it was worth.door on the fourth floor. Having obtained the address of the person to whom the house in the Allees de Meillan belonged. and set all conjecture at defiance. Dantes next proceeded thither. and at the present time kept a small inn on the route from Bellegarde to Beaucaire. but they had seen him. but had its owner asked half a million. upon quitting the hut. that the new landlord gave them their choice of any of the rooms in the house. it would unhesitatingly have been given. leave Marseilles by the Porte d’Aix. etc. for reply.

– a little nearer to the former than to the latter. on the side opposite to the main entrance reserved for the reception of guests. a sheet of tin covered with a grotesque representation of the Pont du Gard. a tall pine raised its melancholy head in one of the corners of this unattractive spot. while. about midway between the town of Beaucaire and the village of Bellegarde. It also boasted of what in Languedoc is styled a garden. creaking and flapping in the wind. which regaled the passers by through this Egyptian scene with its strident. and a hostler called Pecaud. like a forgotten sentinel. Each stalk served as a perch for a grasshopper. tomatoes. but their withered dusty foliage abundantly proved how unequal was the conflict. and displayed its flexible stem and fanshaped summit dried and cracked by the fierce heat of the sub-tropical sun. Between these sickly shrubs grew a scanty supply of garlic. no doubt. Such of my readers as have made a pedestrian excursion to the south of France may perchance have noticed. In the surrounding plain. – a small roadside inn. of a curious desire on the part of the agriculturists of the country to see whether such a thing as the raising of grain in those parched regions was practicable. were scattered a few miserable stalks of wheat. with two servants. monotonous note. lone and solitary. the effect. consisting of a small plot of ground. A few dingy olives and stunted fig-trees struggled hard for existence. from the front of which hung. – a chambermaid named Trinette. This modern place of entertainment stood on the left-hand side of the post road. which more resembled a dusty lake than solid ground. For about seven or eight years the little tavern had been kept by a man and his wife. for a canal between Beaucaire and Aiguemortes had revolutionized transportation by substituting boats for the cart and the 293 . This small staff was quite equal to all the requirements. and backed upon the Rhone.Chapter 26: The Pont du Gard Inn. and eschalots.

on the contrary. hooked nose. a perfect specimen of the natives of those southern latitudes. exposed to the meridional rays of a burning sun. And.” 294 . while her husband kept his daily watch at the door – a duty he performed with so much the greater willingness.stagecoach. in these philosophic words: – “Hush. as it saved him the necessity of listening to the endless plaints and murmurs of his helpmate. She remained nearly always in her second-floor chamber. sparkling. His naturally dark complexion had assumed a still further shade of brown from the habit the unfortunate man had acquired of stationing himself from morning till eve at the threshold of his door. strong. was thick and curly. or stretched languid and feeble on her bed. like his beard. This man was our old acquaintance. Gaspard Caderousse. His wife. It is God’s pleasure that things should be so. Born in the neighborhood of Arles. was pale. shivering in her chair. of which we have given a brief but faithful description. who never saw him without breaking out into bitter invectives against fate. but that beauty had gradually withered beneath the devastating influence of the slow fever so prevalent among dwellers by the ponds of Aiguemortes and the marshes of Camargue. as though to add to the daily misery which this prosperous canal inflicted on the unfortunate inn-keeper. it was situated between the Rhone from which it had its source and the post-road it had depleted. his hair. yet there he stood. whose utter ruin it was fast accomplishing. and sickly-looking. day after day. which he wore under his chin. after the manner of the Spanish muleteers. with no other protection for his head than a red handkerchief twisted around it. whose maiden name had been Madeleine Radelle. on the lookout for guests who seldom came. tall. to all of which her husband would calmly return an unvarying reply. La Carconte. not a hundred steps from the inn. and bony. The inn-keeper himself was a man of from forty to fifty-five years of age. meagre. and teeth white as those of a carnivorous animal. and in spite of his age but slightly interspersed with a few silvery threads. he had dark. and deep-set eyes. she had shared in the beauty for which its women are proverbial.

embroidered bodices. was. Still. her husband had bestowed on her the name of La Carconte in place of her sweet and euphonious name of Madeleine. bearing equal resemblance to the style adopted both by the Catalans and Andalusians. and silver buckles for the shoes. then. velvet vests. Caderousse. had given up any further participation in the pomps and vanities. by degrees. but fond of external show. 295 . more for the shelter than the profit it afforded. parti-colored scarfs. situated between Salon and Lambesc. vain. and the daily infliction of his peevish partner’s murmurs and lamentations. which. he was a man of sober habits and moderate desires. at his place of observation before the door. During the days of his prosperity. all disappeared. his rude gutteral language would not have enabled him to pronounce. though fruitlessly. elegantly worked stockings. although a bitter feeling of envious discontent filled his mind as the sound of mirth and merry music from the joyous revellers reached even the miserable hostelry to which he still clung. let it not be supposed that amid this affected resignation to the will of Providence. striped gaiters. both for himself and wife. He dressed in the picturesque costume worn upon grand occasions by the inhabitants of the south of France. But. a mode of attire borrowed equally from Greece and Arabia. unable to appear abroad in his pristine splendor. so called. and as a custom existed among the inhabitants of that part of France where Caderousse lived of styling every person by some particular and distinctive appellation. in all probability. watch-chains. while La Carconte displayed the charming fashion prevalent among the women of Arles. not a festivity took place without himself and wife being among the spectators. as usual. and Gaspard Caderousse. Like other dwellers in the south. his eyes glancing listlessly from a piece of closely shaven grass – on which some fowls were industriously. necklaces.The sobriquet of La Carconte had been bestowed on Madeleine Radelle from the fact that she had been born in a village. and addicted to display. endeavoring to turn up some grain or insect suited to their palate – to the deserted road. the unfortunate inn-keeper did not writhe under the double misery of seeing the hateful canal carry off his customers and his profits.

he mounted to her chamber. but whether for his own pleasure or that of his rider would have been difficult to say. There it lay stretching out into one interminable line of dust and sand. and. at liberty to regulate his hours for journeying. wiped away the perspiration that streamed from his brow. dressed in black. and ambled along at an easy pace. when he was aroused by the shrill voice of his wife. he might have caught a dim outline of something approaching from the direction of Bellegarde. first taking care. the horse stopped. and. led his steed by the bridle in search of some place to which he could secure him. His rider was a priest. with its sides bordered by tall. snarling and displaying his sharp white teeth with a determined hostility that abundantly proved how little he was accustomed to society. and grumbling to himself as he went. would choose to expose himself in such a formidable Sahara. between whom the kindest and most amiable understanding appeared to exist. with 296 . had Caderousse but retained his post a few minutes longer. dismounting.which led away to the north and south. meagre trees. At that moment a heavy footstep was heard descending the wooden staircase that led from the upper floor. the priest. spite of the ardent rays of a noonday sun. The horse was of Hungarian breed. Having arrived before the Pont du Gard. struck thrice with the end of his iron-shod stick. the road on which he so eagerly strained his sight was void and lonely as a desert at mid-day. as the moving object drew nearer. advancing to the door. he tied the animal safely and having drawn a red cotton handkerchief. that no one in his senses could have imagined that any traveller. a huge black dog came rushing to meet the daring assailant of his ordinarily tranquil abode. At this unusual sound. altogether presenting so uninviting an appearance. as an invitation to any chance traveller who might be passing. Availing himself of a handle that projected from a half-fallen door. then. the pair came on with a fair degree of rapidity. Nevertheless. he would easily have perceived that it consisted of a man and horse. from his pocket. and wearing a three-cornered hat. At the moment Caderousse quitted his sentry-like watch before the door. however. to set the entrance door wide open. However that might have been.

sir. observing in the countenance of the latter no other expression than extreme surprise at his own want of attention to an inquiry so courteously worded. What would the abbe please to have? What refreshment can I offer? All I have is at his service. Caderousse?” “Yes. and therefore said. most welcome!” repeated the astonished Caderousse. speaking with a strong Italian accent. mine host of the Pont du Gard besought his guest to enter.” “And you followed the business of a tailor?” “True. till the trade fell off. speaking to the dog. he deemed it as well to terminate this dumb show.” answered the host. at your service. “will you be quiet? Pray don’t heed him.” Then perceiving for the first time the garb of the traveller he had to entertain. – Christian and surname are the same. I presume. he never bites.” cried he. I was a tailor. then. sir! – he only barks. that really I believe that the respectable inhabitants will in time go without any 297 . I make no doubt a glass of good wine would be acceptable this dreadfully hot day. It is so hot at Marseilles.” The priest gazed on the person addressing him with a long and searching gaze – there even seemed a disposition on his part to court a similar scrutiny on the part of the inn-keeper. “Now. even more surprised at the question than he had been by the silence which had preceded it. “You are welcome. M. “I am Gaspard Caderousse. Margotin. then.” rejoined the priest. on the fourth floor?” “I did.” “Gaspard Caderousse. sir.many bows and courteous smiles. “You are. I believe in the Allees de Meillan. You formerly lived. “Yes. Caderousse hastily exclaimed: “A thousand pardons! I really did not observe whom I had the honor to receive under my poor roof.

” said Caderousse. let me have a bottle of your best wine.” The abbe fixed on him a searching. Upon issuing forth from his subterranean retreat at the expiration of five minutes. skinny neck resting on his lap. is laid up with illness. anxious not to lose the present opportunity of finding a customer for one of the few bottles of Cahors still remaining in his possession. “I can boast with truth of being an honest man.clothing whatever. “Yes. hastily raised a trap-door in the floor of the apartment they were in. “Quite. whose animosity seemed appeased by the unusual command of the traveller for refreshments. and had established himself very comfortably between his knees. he found the abbe seated upon a wooden stool. which served both as parlor and kitchen. with your permission. we will resume our conversation from where we left off.” replied the man – “or. who. sir. his long. practically so. “it is easy to perceive I am not a rich man.” “As you please. sir. had crept up to him. “Are you quite alone?” inquired the guest. for my poor wife.” continued the inn-keeper. at least. “Ah. poor thing!” “You are married. while Margotin. penetrating glance. But talking of heat. glancing round as he spoke at the scanty furnishings of the apartment. who is the only person in the house besides myself. and. while his dim eye was fixed earnestly on the traveller’s face.” said Caderousse with a sigh. leaning his elbow on a table. as Caderousse placed before him the bottle of wine and a glass. but in this world a man does not thrive the better for being honest. and then. then?” said the priest. with a show of interest.” continued he significantly. is there nothing I can offer you by way of refreshment?” “Yes. fairly sustaining the scrutiny of the abbe’s gaze. honest – I can certainly say that much for myself. quite alone. and unable to render me the least assistance. with a 298 .

calm eye of the questioner seemed to dilate with feverish scrutiny. whose countenance flushed darkly as he caught the penetrating gaze of the abbe fixed on him. he was so called as truly as I myself bore the appellation of Gaspard Caderousse.” “Such words as those belong to your profession. I must be satisfied that you are the person I am in search of. becoming excited and eager. in the year 1814 or 1815.” “Said to bear the name!” repeated Caderousse. if what you assert be true. the good will be rewarded. “that the young man concerning whom I asked you was said to bear the name of Edmond. while the clear.” said the abbe. in my own person.” “So much the better for you. be able to prove to you how completely you are in error. “Why.hand on his breast and shaking his head. “You remind me. but tell me. “one is free to believe them or not. and the wicked punished.” said the priest. “and you do well to repeat them. “for I am firmly persuaded that. as one pleases. what has become of poor 299 . “In the first place.” “What proofs do you require?” “Did you. “and perhaps I may. sooner or later. “that is more than every one can say nowadays.” “You are wrong to speak thus. know anything of a young sailor named Dantes?” “Dantes? Did I know poor dear Edmond? Why. but.” said the abbe. I pray. with a bitter expression of countenance.” “What mean you?” inquired Caderousse with a look of surprise.” answered Caderousse. Edmond Dantes and myself were intimate friends!” exclaimed Caderousse.” added he.

do young and strong men die in prison. deeply and sincerely lamented his unhappy fate. there. “Well.” “And of what did he die?” asked Caderousse in a choking voice. searching eye of the abbe was employed in scrutinizing the agitated features of the inn-keeper. But I swear to you. “the world grows worse and worse. and that none but the wicked prosper. “And so I did. Why does not God. without taking any notice of his companion’s vehemence. speaking in the highly colored language of the south. heart-broken prisoner than the felons who pay the penalty of their crimes at the galleys of Toulon. I confess. as he is said to do. during which the fixed. who turned away. and the priest saw him wiping the tears from his eyes with the corner of the red handkerchief twisted round his head. send down brimstone and fire. I swear to you. “I was called to see him on his dying bed. “You knew the poor lad.” A deadly pallor followed the flush on the countenance of Caderousse. I envied him his good fortune. and consume them altogether?” “You speak as though you had loved this young Dantes. “Poor fellow. since then. is another proof that good people are never rewarded on this earth.” observed the abbe.” continued Caderousse. sir. that I might administer to him the consolations of religion.Edmond? Did you know him? Is he alive and at liberty? Is he prosperous and happy?” “He died a more wretched. sir. hopeless. when they have scarcely numbered their thirtieth year.” replied Caderousse.” There was a brief silence. poor fellow!” murmured Caderousse. by everything a man holds dear. “Of what. Ah. then?” continued Caderousse. “though once. think you. I have. if he really hates the wicked. unless it be of imprisonment?” 300 .

as a mark of his gratitude for the kindness and brotherly care with which Dantes had nursed him in a severe illness he underwent during his confinement. but had been released from prison during the second restoration. “But the strangest part of the story is. for the sale of such a diamond would have quite sufficed to make his fortune. “that Dantes. “that it was a stone of immense value?” “Why. “who had been his companion in misfortune. this jewel he bestowed on Dantes upon himself quitting the prison. with eager.” “Then. I suppose. and to clear his memory should any foul spot or stain have fallen on it.” “And so he was. he besought me to try and clear up a mystery he had never been able to penetrate. that in the event of his getting out of prison he might have wherewithal to live. sir. everything is relative.” And here the look of the abbe. even in his dying moments. who might only have taken it and then betrayed him to the governor.” answered the abbe. seemed to rest with ill-concealed satisfaction on the gloomy depression which was rapidly spreading over the countenance of Caderousse.” asked Caderousse. “To one in Edmond’s position the diamond certainly was of great value. Instead of employing this diamond in attempting to bribe his jailers.” “And for that reason. “A rich Englishman.” resumed the abbe. that he was utterly ignorant of the cause of his detention. Dantes carefully preserved it.” 301 .” murmured Caderousse. was possessed of a diamond of immense value.Caderousse wiped away the large beads of perspiration that gathered on his brow. becoming more and more fixed. glowing looks. the poor fellow told you the truth. It was estimated at fifty thousand francs.” continued the abbe. “How should he have been otherwise? Ah. swore by his crucified Redeemer.

” replied the abbe. but you shall judge for yourself. who was about to break in upon the abbe’s speech. and the third. that of my betrothed was’ – Stay. when the latter. ‘and I feel convinced they have all unfeignedly grieved over my loss. as he closed the box.” continued the abbe. “fifty thousand francs! Surely the diamond was as large as a nut to be worth all that. Calmly drawing forth from his pocket a small box covered with black shagreen.” cried Caderousse. ‘The third of my friends. which is also valuable. “‘is called Danglars. you can do so afterwards. entertained a very sincere affection for me. in spite of being my rival. set in a ring of admirable workmanship. merely his testamentary executor.” The sharp gaze of Caderousse was instantly directed towards the priest’s garments. “But how comes the diamond in your possession. “Allow me to finish first. “I have forgotten what he called her. as though hoping to discover the location of the treasure. “And that diamond. and then if you have any observations to make. is worth fifty thousand francs?” “It is. I have it with me. The name of one of the four friends is Caderousse. almost breathless with eager admiration. besides the maiden to whom I was betrothed’ he said.’“ A fiendish smile played over the features of Caderousse.” 302 .“Bless me!” exclaimed Caderousse. waving his hand. was much attached to me. “‘Another of the number. sir? Did Edmond make you his heir?” “No. “it was not of such a size as that. ‘I once possessed four dear and faithful friends. “you say. although my rival. and displayed to the dazzled eyes of Caderousse the sparkling jewel it contained. without the setting.’“ continued the abbe. while its brilliant hues seemed still to dance before the eyes of the fascinated inn-keeper. without seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse. said. – his name was Fernand. the abbe opened it. stay. and returned it to his pocket.’“ The inn-keeper shivered.” replied the abbe.” “No.

” replied the abbe. was his own father.” “Too true. The fifth sharer in Edmond’s bequest. with a stifled sigh. I repeat his words just as he uttered them. and after pouring some into a glass. and slowly swallowing its contents. “but from the length of time that has elapsed since 303 . almost suffocated by the contending passions which assailed him. as he placed his empty glass on the table. “Mercedes it was. too true!” ejaculated Caderousse. Do you understand?” “Perfectly. and give an equal portion to these good friends. “True. “Bring me a carafe of water.” “‘You will sell this diamond.” “Because the fifth is dead.” urged Caderousse. as I hear.” said the abbe. you will divide the money into five equal parts. said. – for you understand.” said Caderousse eagerly.” said the abbe. the only persons who have loved me upon earth. – “Where did we leave off?” “The name of Edmond’s betrothed was Mercedes. “the poor old man did die.“Mercedes. resuming his usual placidity of manner.’ said Dantes. making a strong effort to appear indifferent. ‘You will go to Marseilles. the abbe. “you only mentioned four persons.’“ “But why into five parts?” asked Caderousse.” “Go on.” “To be sure.” “I learned so much at Marseilles. Caderousse quickly performed the stranger’s bidding.

the death of the elder Dantes. is too horrible for belief.” answered Caderousse. Can you enlighten me on that point?” “I do not know who could if I could not. of downright starvation. I say he died of” – Caderousse paused. anxiously and eagerly. it is impossible – utterly impossible!” “What I have said. she had listened to the foregoing conversation. attracted by the sound of voices. about a year after the disappearance of his son the poor old man died.” replied Caderousse sharply. wife. “Why. “Why. yes. should be allowed to perish of hunger in the midst of other men who call themselves Christians. his acquaintances say he died of grief. she had feebly dragged herself down the stairs. I lived almost on the same floor with the poor old man.” “Starvation!” exclaimed the abbe. The very dogs that wander houseless and homeless in the streets find some pitying hand to cast them a mouthful of bread. “Why should you meddle with what does not concern you?” The two men turned quickly.” said Caderousse. and saw the sickly countenance of La Carconte peering between the baluster rails. “This 304 . a Christian. Oh. the doctors called his complaint gastro-enteritis. Ah. springing from his seat. “Of what?” asked the priest. “Why. head on knees. I was unable to obtain any particulars of his end. who saw him in his dying moments. and.” said a voice from the top of the stairs. “Mind your own business.” “Of what did he die?” “Why. “And you are a fool for having said anything about it. I have said. but I. and that a man. the vilest animals are not suffered to die by such a death as that. seated on the lower step. I believe.

“for Mercedes the Catalan and Monsieur Morrel were very kind to him. Again the abbe had been obliged to swallow a draught of water to calm the emotions that threatened to overpower him. make yourself perfectly easy. but when poor. Surely. the promises and assurances of safety are quickly forgotten.” said the abbe. then.” “Ah. he would not have perished by so dreadful a death.” “Why.” “Nay. you simpleton!” retorted La Carconte. like my husband there. behold trouble and misery. that the miserable old man you were telling me of was forsaken by every one. he was not altogether forsaken. who cannot even see whence all their afflictions come. that I solemnly promise you. nay. they will not be occasioned by my instrumentality. and that you husband can incur no risk. “that my intentions are good. leaving the two speakers to resume the conversation. and all sorts of persecutions. and went into a fit of ague.gentleman asks me for information.” continued Caderousse. that’s all very fine. I should like to know? Better study a little common prudence.” retorted the woman. had not such been the case. “What have you to do with politeness. have been persuaded to tell all they know. my good woman.” La Carconte muttered a few inarticulate words. provided he answers me candidly. and at some moment when nobody is expecting it. are heaped on the unfortunate wretches. Whatever evils may befall you. madam. How do you know the motives that person may have for trying to extract all he can from you?” “I pledge you my word.” “Politeness. but 305 . When he had sufficiently recovered himself. which common politeness will not permit me to refuse. but remaining so as to be able to hear every word they uttered. “Nothing is easier than to begin with fair promises and assurances of nothing to fear. silly folks. he said. “It appears. I beg of you. then let her head again drop upon her knees.

“mind what you are saying!” Caderousse made no reply to these words. Poor Edmond. And. “do as you will.” “Speak out then. from her seat on the stairs. know in what manner Fernand injured Dantes?” inquired the abbe of Caderousse. 306 . “I cannot help being more frightened at the idea of the malediction of the dead than the hatred of the living. “Gaspard.” “Well.” “And was he not so?” asked the abbe.” continued Caderousse. “that you named just now as being one of Dantes’ faithful and attached friends.” added Caderousse with a bitter smile. you are master – but if you take my advice you’ll hold your tongue. that he believed everybody’s professions of friendship. “I don’t know but what you’re right!” “So you will say nothing?” asked the abbe. addressing the abbe. but. Gaspard!” murmured the woman. wife. whatever people may say.somehow the poor old man had contracted a profound hatred for Fernand – the very person. but it was fortunate that he never knew.” replied Caderousse. to pardon his enemies. in his native language. say what it was!” “Gaspard!” cried La Carconte. said. then. “Can a man be faithful to another whose wife he covets and desires for himself? But Dantes was so honorable and true in his own nature. when on his deathbed. “Do you. though evidently irritated and annoyed by the interruption. “Do I? No one better. which was not altogether devoid of rude poetry. he was cruelly deceived. or he might have found it more difficult.” “Imbecile!” exclaimed La Carconte.

then. “you are at liberty.” said the abbe. so rich and powerful?” “Do you not know their history?” “I do not. truly. either to speak or be silent. I respect your scruples and admire your sentiments.” “Remember. the gift of poor Edmond was not meant for such traitors as Fernand and Danglars. perhaps. “Wife.” “You prefer. But you tell me he is no more. besides. the abbe again draw the small box from his pocket. “come here!” 307 . and therefore can have nothing to do with hatred or revenge. Pray relate it to me!” Caderousse seemed to reflect for a few moments. “If the poor lad were living. opened it. for my own part. My first business will be to dispose of this diamond. what would it be to them? no more than a drop of water in the ocean. what good would it do?” asked Caderousse. and came to me and begged that I would candidly tell which were his true and which his false friends.” returned Caderousse. so let all such feeling be buried with him.” returned the abbe. it would take up too much time. “that I should bestow on men you say are false and treacherous. I shall do my duty as conscientiously as I can. that a bright flash of brilliant hues passed before the dazzled gaze of Caderousse.” “Well. so let the matter end.” So saying. and contrived to hold it in such a light. my good friend. “Are these persons. in a tone that indicated utter indifference on his part. I should not hesitate. then said. just as you please. “those two could crush you at a single blow!” “How so?” inquired the abbe. wife!” cried he in a hoarse voice. and fulfil my promise to the dying man. “You say truly. why.” chimed in La Carconte. then. “No. the reward intended for faithful friendship?” “That is true enough.“Why.

” “Remember. perhaps crime. as though to ascertain if his horse were 308 . and the money divided between his father. You will have the goodness to furnish me with the address of both Fernand and Danglars. muttering voice. Fernand. “The fifth part of the profits from this stone belongs to us then. as he replaced the jewel and its case in the pocket of his cassock.” murmured the wife in her turn. in a low. “it is your fault. what a magnificent jewel!” cried the astonished woman. “As being the friends Edmond esteemed most faithful and devoted to him. and large drops of perspiration rolled from his heated brow.” “And why among us four?” inquired Caderousse. in order that I may execute Edmond’s last wishes. that I do so. “no more do I. does it not?” asked Caderousse.“Diamond!” exclaimed La Carconte.” “Oh. “Of course not!” rejoined Caderousse quickly. “It does. which I believe myself at liberty to divide equally with the four survivors. rising and descending to the chamber with a tolerably firm step. and myself.” replied the abbe. to be sold. “what diamond are you talking about?” “Why. The jewel is worth at least fifty thousand francs. “It is a beautiful diamond left by poor Edmond Dantes. Mercedes. his betrothed bride. “with the addition of an equal division of that part intended for the elder Dantes.” “I don’t call those friends who betray and ruin you. I said I looked upon it as a sacrilegious profanation to reward treachery. Danglars.” The agitation of Caderousse became extreme. not mine. did you not hear all we said?” inquired Caderousse. and that was what I was observing to this gentleman just now.” answered the abbe calmly. As he saw the abbe rise from his seat and go towards the door.

“I certainly think you act wisely in so doing. “Gaspard. “Not because I have the least desire to learn anything you may please to conceal from me. “I am all attention. as he returned to the apartment below. her body convulsed with chills. she once more climbed the staircase leading to her chamber.sufficiently refreshed to continue his journey. why.” asked the abbe. through your assistance. surely a man of his holy profession would not deceive us!” “Well. uncertain tread. she turned round.” replied La Carconte. his face flushed with cupidity.” was the reply.” said the priest.” So saying. La Carconte then entered her chamber. you see. 309 . I could distribute the legacy according to the wishes of the testator. to her husband. that is all. “Well. the flooring of which creaked beneath her heavy. consider well what you are about to do!” “I have both reflected and decided. For my part.” “I hope it may be so. “what have you made up your mind to do?” “To tell you all I know. but simply that if. “There.” answered he. if we chose!” “Do you believe it?” “Why. so much the better. I wash my hands of the affair. wife. and called out. in spite of the intense heat of the weather. Arrived at the top stair. “this splendid diamond might all be ours.” said the abbe. Caderousse and his wife exchanged looks of deep meaning.” replied Caderousse. and her teeth rattling in her head. in a warning tone. as she proceeded towards her arm-chair.” said the former. into which she fell as though exhausted. “do as you like.

” answered Caderousse.” And he began his story. where he himself would be in deep shadow. then. and. He removed his seat into a corner of the room. who seated himself on the little stool. 310 . this is no affair of mine. he prepared to give his whole attention to Caderousse.“Stop a minute. bolted and barred it.” said the trembling voice of La Carconte. by way of still greater precaution. with head bent down and hands clasped. “Remember. and it is as well that your visit hither should be made known only to ourselves. “say no more about it. During this time the abbe had chosen his place for listening at his ease. “we might be interrupted in the most interesting part of my story. while the light would be fully thrown on the narrator. exactly opposite to him. which he closed. enough!” replied Caderousse.” With these words he went stealthily to the door. as though through the flooring of her chamber she viewed the scene that was enacting below. or rather clinched together. I will take all the consequences upon myself. which would be a pity. as he was accustomed to do at night. “Enough.

tell the truth. if you ever make use of the details I am about to give you. then. and not to man. and confessions die in my breast. Recollect. and not a Frenchman. I should break to pieces like glass. my friend. “you must make me a promise. for the persons of whom I am about to talk are rich and powerful. “First. “perhaps you know all the earlier part of it?” “Yes. which I have only quitted to fulfil the last wishes of a dying man. that you will never let any one know that it was I who supplied them. never may know.” said the abbe.” said Caderousse. the last wishes of our friend. then. the whole truth. I am an Italian. besides.” “Begin with his father. shaking his head. our only desire is to carry out. under these circumstances. Speak. sir.” answered the abbe.” “What is that?” inquired the abbe. without reserve. and belong to God.” This positive assurance seemed to give Caderousse a little courage. if you please. and I shall shortly retire to my convent.” said Caderousse.” 311 . “I am a priest. and if they only laid the tips of their fingers on me.” said Caderousse.Chapter 27: The Story. “Well.” “Make yourself easy. “Edmond related to me everything until the moment when he was arrested in a small cabaret close to Marseilles. sir. the persons of whom you are about to speak. “Edmond talked to me a great deal about the old man for whom he had the deepest love. in a fitting manner. “Why. I do not know.” replied the abbe.” “The history is a sad one. I even believe I ought to undeceive you as to the friendship which poor Edmond thought so sincere and unquestionable. “I will. as without hatred.

she wished him to go with her that she might take care of him.” “Yes. when she saw him so miserable and heartbroken. “Dantes himself only knew that which personally concerned him. and paced up and down his chamber the whole day. and Dantes was arrested. for his footsteps over my head night and day did not leave me a moment’s repose. and would not go to bed at all. and every step he took went to my heart as really as if his foot had pressed against my breast. for my poor dear boy loves me better than anything in the world. however. ‘I will not leave this house. I can see it all before me this moment. and for myself. or heard mention of any one of them. followed by four soldiers. and up to this point I know all. I assure you I could not sleep either. folded up his wedding suit with tears in his eyes. she did not obtain it. 312 . having passed a sleepless night. when Dantes was arrested. Monsieur Morrel hastened to obtain the particulars.” said the priest. for the grief of the poor father gave me great uneasiness. de Villefort. and they were very sad. yes. for I was anxious that Mercedes should persuade the old man to accompany her. and if he gets out of prison he will come and see me the first thing. and not touched food since the previous day. for he never beheld again the five persons I have named to you. The old man returned alone to his home. a police commissary.’ was the old man’s reply. and went to visit the old man. and what would he think if I did not wait here for him?’ I heard all this from the window. for I was underneath him and heard him walking the whole night.” “Was it not his betrothal feast?” “It was and the feast that began so gayly had a very sorrowful ending.” “But did you not go up-stairs and try to console the poor old man?” asked the abbe.“At La Reserve! Oh.” “Well. but the old man would not consent. entered. The next day Mercedes came to implore the protection of M. ‘No.

that believing him very ill. “From day to day he lived on alone. he said to her. and I. but he seemed to dislike seeing me. and hate the Jesuits. they make one melancholy. One day. and so at last old Dantes was left all to himself. he owed three quarters’ rent. – ‘Be assured. which was granted to him. I went and told M. and I could not resist my desire to go up to him. contrary to his custom. “we cannot console those who will not be consoled.’“ “Poor father!” murmured the priest. endeavored to console him. for I could not bear it. and that he sold by degrees what he had to pay for his subsistence. and of course shall see him first. I heard his sobs. when. however.” replied Caderousse. who am no canter. and instead of expecting him. One night. I cannot now repeat to you. all the eloquent words and imploring language he made use of. I then resolved to go up to him at all risks. he begged for another week. The door was closed. I should throw myself into the sea at once. although I was certain he was at home. besides.“Ah. in spite of her own grief and despair. it was more than piety. it is he who is awaiting us. sir. I know this. and saw him so pale and haggard. Morrel and Mercedes came to see him. but his door was closed. For the first three days I heard him walking about as usual. why you see we leave off after a time seeing persons who are in sorrow. and I am very glad that I have not any children. it was more than grief. but. I know not why. said then to myself. on the fourth I heard nothing. but I guessed what these bundles were. Morrel and then ran on to 313 . At length the poor old fellow reached the end of all he had. and I only saw from time to time strangers go up to him and come down again with some bundle they tried to hide. and did not find in my memory or heart all he is now saying. my dear daughter. sir. and the poor girl. but when I reached his door he was no longer weeping but praying. for I am the oldest. and he was one of these. ‘It is really well. I am quite happy. because the landlord came into my apartment when he left his. M. he would not make any answer. and more and more solitary. but I looked through the keyhole. he is dead. he had admitted Mercedes. for if I were a father and felt such excessive grief as the old man does. and they threatened to turn him out.’ However well disposed a person may be. and.

” The abbe uttered a kind of groan. “it is very affecting.” he added in an almost menacing tone. Morrel bringing a doctor. “I am as certain of it as that we two are Christians. and she found him so altered that she was even more anxious than before to have him taken to her own home. “And you believe he died” – “Of hunger. and M.’“ The abbe rose from his chair. and ordered him a limited diet.” said Caderousse. “Yes. I was there. Tell 314 .” replied the abbe. Mercedes remained. They both came immediately. and I never shall forget the old man’s smile at this prescription. as it was men’s and not God’s doing.” “Tell me of those men. with red eyes and pale cheeks.” said he in a hoarse voice. “you have promised to tell me everything. “This was. swallowed it at one gulp. “and remember too. cursing those who had caused his misery. This was M.” said the abbe. ‘If you ever see my Edmond again. who would fain have conveyed the old man against his consent. sir. “The more so.Mercedes. indeed. but the old man resisted. seized a glass of water that was standing by him half-full. making a sign to the Catalan that he had left his purse on the chimney-piece. and cried so that they were actually frightened. a horrid event. the doctor had put him on a diet. and saying to Mercedes. of hunger. by his bedside. with a shaking hand. he had an excuse for not eating any more.” The abbe. M. tell him I die blessing him. Morrel went away. made two turns round the chamber. and the doctor said it was inflammation of the bowels. “The story interests you. too. does it not. Morrel’s wish also. sir?” inquired Caderousse. at length (after nine days of despair and fasting). sir. But availing himself of the doctor’s order. and then resumed his seat.” “Mercedes came again. therefore. and pressed his trembling hand against his parched throat. the old man would not take any sustenance. From that time he received all who came. the old man died.

me.” “True. then – ‘twas so. sir. nothing.” exclaimed the abbe suddenly.” “Which of the two denounced him? Which was the real delinquent?” “Both. “Nothing. one with a letter.” murmured the abbe.” replied the priest. “who told you I was there?” The abbe saw he had overshot the mark. and Fernand who put it in the post. the day before the betrothal feast. who are these men who killed the son with despair. sir.” “But. true!” said Caderousse in a choking voice. one from love.” “And where was this letter written?” “At La Reserve.” “How was this jealousy manifested? Speak on.” “It was Danglars who wrote the denunciation with his left hand. then. Faria. but in order to have known everything so well. – Fernand and Danglars. and the father with famine?” “Two men jealous of him. how well did you judge men and things!” “What did you please to say. “Oh. and he added quickly. “go on.” 315 . astonished. and the other from ambition. Faria. therefore.” “They denounced Edmond as a Bonapartist agent.” “‘Twas so. you must have been an eye-witness.” “I!” said Caderousse. that his writing might not be recognized. and the other put it in the post. sir?” asked Caderousse. – “No one. “you were there yourself. “I was there.

“they had made me drink to such an excess that I nearly lost all perception.“And did you not remonstrate against such infamy?” asked the abbe.” “Yes. but Danglars restrained me. because this action.’“ And Caderousse bowed his head with every sign of real repentance. that was all.” answered Caderousse. and very anxious to speak. though you were present when Dantes was arrested. but it was not criminal. woman. “and remorse preys on me night and day. ‘and did really put in to the Island of Elba. sir. I said all that a man in such a state could say. It was cowardly.” 316 . I swear to you. ‘Hold your tongue. Edmond is dead. I had only an indistinct understanding of what was passing around me. I often ask pardon of God. and I held my tongue.’ I confess I had my fears.” “Yes.” “Next day – next day.’ said he. and has not pardoned me. yet you said nothing. and thus to accuse yourself is to deserve pardon.” “Sir. in the state in which politics then were.” said the abbe. I confess. “you have spoken unreservedly. and if they find this letter upon him. those who have supported him will pass for his accomplices. is no doubt the cause of my abject condition.” “Unfortunately. sir. ‘If he should really be guilty. I was there. “if not. if he is really charged with a letter for the Bonapartist committee at Paris. I am expiating a moment of selfishness.” replied Caderousse. but they both assured me that it was a jest they were carrying on. sir. and perfectly harmless. when she complains. and so I always say to La Carconte. you were an accomplice. you must have seen plain enough what they had been doing. it is the will of God.” “I understand – you allowed matters to take their course. sir. the only one with which I have seriously to reproach myself in all my life. “Well.

“In that case.” “And. as I have already said. “who was he?” “The owner of the Pharaon and patron of Dantes.” Caderousse smiled bitterly.” There was a brief silence.” said he. “he should be rich. he is almost at the point of dishonor.” asked the abbe.” replied Caderousse. and so Edmond’s father died. that on the second restoration he was persecuted as a Bonapartist. Twenty times he interceded for Edmond. “You have two or three times mentioned a M.” he said.” “How?” 317 . he wrote. made of red silk. threatened. as I told you. Morrel still alive?” “Yes. and buried him decently. without doing harm to any one. “is M. and offered to receive him in his own house. Ten times.” interrupted Caderousse. as he had lived. implored. full of courage and real regard. Morrel unhappy?” exclaimed the abbe.” “And what part did he play in this sad drama?” inquired the abbe. When the emperor returned. and so energetically. he came to see Dantes’ father. and the night or two before his death. and then resumed his seat. Morrel.” replied the abbe. I have the purse still by me – a large one. “Yes. happy. the abbe rose and paced up and down pensively. “they say the dead know everything. “What! M.” said the abbe. with which they paid the old man’s debts. “He is reduced almost to the last extremity – nay. “The part of an honest man. he left his purse on the mantelpiece. “But he knows it all now.“He did not know. happy as myself.

has suffered by the bankruptcy of three large houses. as you may suppose. while Fernand and Danglars are rolling in wealth. only augments his sorrows. who did not know his crime.” added Caderousse. on the recommendation of M. and therefore the most guilty?” “What has become of him? Why. “You see. I shall die of hunger. I. Morrel is utterly ruined. “Yes. he left Marseilles. the instigator. and I unable to do anything in the world for her. If he were alone in the world he would blow out his brains. all this. a son. Morrel.” “What has become of Danglars. but whose family now will not allow him to wed the daughter of a ruined man. instead of lessening.” “How is that?” “Because their deeds have brought them good fortune. he has a daughter. and. as old Dantes did.” “And has the unfortunate man wife or children?” inquired the abbe. who never did a bad action but that I have told you of – am in destitution.” “Horrible!” ejaculated the priest. he has. If this ship founders. a lieutenant in the army.“Yes. sir. he has a wife. like the others. “so it is. as cashier into a Spanish bank.” continued Caderousse. while honest men have been reduced to misery. and his only hope now is in that very Pharaon which poor Dantes commanded. after having acquired a most honorable name in the trade of Marseilles. M. and which is expected from the Indies with a cargo of cochineal and indigo. and there would be an end. “And it is thus heaven recompenses virtue. he has lost five ships in two years. with my poor wife dying of fever before my very eyes. after five and twenty years of labor. besides. who was about to marry the man she loved. and was taken. he is a ruined man. who through everything has behaved like an angel. During the war with Spain he was employed in the 318 .

who is in high favor at court. Some days before the return of the emperor. He is a millionaire. with a fine residence in the Rue de Mont-Blanc. Fernand was drafted. with ten horses in his stables. and you will understand. then. six footmen in his ante-chamber. a Madame de Nargonne. de Servieux. and now he is the Baron Danglars. “he is happy. and. but if a large fortune produces happiness. and I know not how many millions in his strongbox.” “Happy? Who can answer for that? Happiness or unhappiness is the secret known but to one’s self and the walls – walls have ears but no tongue.” “And Fernand?” “Fernand? Why. then with that money he speculated in the funds.” “And it has staggered everybody. Danglars is happy. who left him a widower. and made a fortune.” “Ah!” said the abbe. but listen. he has married a second time. The Bourbons left him quietly enough at the Catalans. make a fortune? I confess this staggers me.” “But. sir – he has both fortune and position – both. There must have been in his life some strange secret that no one knows. daughter of M. a widow. and trebled or quadrupled his capital. but Napoleon returned. in a peculiar tone. the king’s chamberlain. much the same story. by what visible steps has he attained this high fortune or high position?” “Both.commissariat of the French army. and they have made him a baron. a special levy was 319 . without education or resources.” “But how could a poor Catalan fisher-boy.” “This must be impossible!” “It would seem so. having first married his banker’s daughter.

Some time after. and Fernand was compelled to join. during the Spanish war – that is to say. at the time when Danglars made his early speculations. rendered such services in this brief campaign that. and.” “Destiny! destiny!” murmured the abbe. without protecting them openly. but as I was older than Fernand. but his action was rewarded by the Bourbons. Ali 320 . and followed the general. found Danglars there. guided his regiment by paths known to himself alone through the mountain gorges which were held by the royalists. after the taking of Trocadero. Fernand was enrolled in the active troop. who is in the highest favor. He proposed to Fernand to accompany him. and had begun her war of independence. it was stated that the Comte de Morcerf (this was the name he bore) had entered the service of Ali Pasha with the rank of instructor-general. Fernand agreed to do so. as you know. Greece only had risen against Turkey. and being sent to Spain to ascertain the feeling of his fellow-countrymen. He returned to France with the epaulet of sub-lieutenant. Fernand’s career was checked by the long peace which seemed likely to endure throughout Europe. and was at the battle of Ligny. but listen: this was not all. in fact. I was only sent to the coast. he was made colonel. still having his name kept on the army roll. The war with Spain being ended.made. and as the protection of the general. gave countenance to volunteer assistance. That same night the general was to go over to the English. was accorded to him. won over the support of the royalists at the capital and in the provinces. got on very intimate terms with him. went to the frontier with his regiment. Fernand would have been court-martialed if Napoleon had remained on the throne. “Yes. Fernand sought and obtained leave to go and serve in Greece. and had just married my poor wife. received promises and made pledges on his own part. and received the title of count and the cross of an officer of the Legion of Honor. The night after that battle he was sentry at the door of a general who carried on a secret correspondence with the enemy. he was a captain in 1823. Fernand was a Spaniard. The French government. I went too. deserted his post. all eyes were turned towards Athens – it was the fashion to pity and support the Greeks.

a new affliction overtook her. and Fernand.” said Caderousse. In the midst of her despair. he said. Rue du Helder. as you know.” continued Caderousse.” “Mercedes was at first in the deepest despair at the blow which deprived her of Edmond.” “Has she made a fortune also?” inquired the abbe. whose crime she did not know. hesitated for a moment. after a day of accustomed vigil at the angle of two roads leading to Marseilles from the Catalans. making an effort at self-control. with which he returned to France. her devotion to the elder Dantes. that what you tell me seems less astonishing than it otherwise might. This was the departure of Fernand – of Fernand. I have told you of her attempts to propitiate M.” “So that now?” – inquired the abbe. Suddenly she heard a step she knew.” replied Caderousse. dressed in the uniform of a sub-lieutenant. “And Mercedes – they tell me that she has disappeared?” “Disappeared. and Mercedes remained alone. stood before her. with an ironical smile. “yes. Paris. when he was gazetted lieutenant-general. But I have seen things so extraordinary.” said the abbe.” The abbe opened his mouth. de Villefort. Fernand went. but it seemed as 321 .Pasha was killed. One evening. 27. then. to rise the next day with still more splendor. but before he died he recompensed the services of Fernand by leaving him a considerable sum. It was not the one she wished for most. “Mercedes is at this moment one of the greatest ladies in Paris. as the sun disappears. she returned to her home more depressed than ever. no news of Fernand. and whom she regarded as her brother. no companionship save that of an old man who was dying with despair. “it seems as if I were listening to the story of a dream. Three months passed and still she wept – no news of Edmond. the door opened. “So that now. “he owns a magnificent house – No. turned anxiously around. “Go on.

and then. At this last thought Mercedes burst into a flood of tears. Fernand. for he would have been there to reproach her infidelity. with a bitter smile. Another possessed all Mercedes’ heart. at the second he reminded her that he loved her. as I have told you. but not more at his ease – for I saw at this time he was in constant dread of Edmond’s return – Fernand was very anxious to get his wife away. that other was absent. perchance. At his first coming he had not said a word of love to Mercedes.’ The old man died. Mercedes was married. and wrung her hands in agony.if a part of her past life had returned to her.” “So that.” murmured the priest. eighteen months before. and to depart 322 . thy name is woman. too. and seeing at last a friend. “but although in the eyes of the world she appeared calm. came now in full force upon her mind. had he lived.’“ “Six months afterwards. He was now a lieutenant. What more could the most devoted lover desire?” Then he murmured the words of the English poet. but the thought. the betrothal had been celebrated with him whom she might have known she still loved had she looked to the bottom of her heart. “the marriage took place in the church of Accoules. he would return to us. perhaps was dead. And then. and when he learned of the old man’s death he returned. it must be confessed. Mercedes seized Fernand’s hands with a transport which he took for love. but which was only joy at being no longer alone in the world.” “The very church in which she was to have married Edmond. Fernand had never been hated – he was only not precisely loved. which she had always repelled before when it was suggested to her by another. ‘Our Edmond is dead.” “Well.” proceeded Caderousse. “that makes eighteen months in all. Mercedes. more happy. if he were not. “there was only a change of bride-grooms. had not become the wife of another.” said the abbe. she nearly fainted as she passed La Reserve. where. Fernand saw this. had disappeared. “‘Frailty. old Dantes incessantly said to her. Mercedes begged for six months more in which to await and mourn for Edmond.” continued Caderousse. after long hours of solitary sorrow.

and she only filled her head in order to alleviate the weight on her heart. “she must have received an education herself. “And yet what?” asked the abbe. then. who would not even receive me. she is rich.himself. music – everything. “Yet. I believe. There were too many unpleasant possibilities associated with the Catalans.” The abbe started. that she might forget. she is not happy. between ourselves. assist me.” 323 . and yet” – Caderousse paused. beautiful but uneducated. “little Albert. sir. I understood from Edmond that she was the daughter of a simple fisherman. Besides.” continued the abbe. I called on Fernand. she did this in order to distract her mind. a countess. “Yes. “Her son?” said he.” replied Caderousse.” “Oh. to be able to instruct her child.” continued Caderousse. “no doubt fortune and honors have comforted her. Fernand’s fortune was already waxing great. where Fernand had left her.” said Caderousse. “did he know so little of his lovely betrothed? Mercedes might have been a queen. and she developed with his growing fortune. she was attending to the education of her son. during the Spanish war. when I found myself utterly destitute. perhaps. and eight days after the wedding they left Marseilles.” “Did you ever see Mercedes again?” inquired the priest. She learned drawing. I thought my old friends would. at Perpignan. But now her position in life is assured.” “But. “What makes you believe this?” “Why.” replied Caderousse. I am sure. So I went to Danglars. “Yes. who sent me a hundred francs by his valet-de-chambre. if the crown were to be placed on the heads of the loveliest and most intelligent.

” “And M. and soon after left Marseilles. “Oh. and sell it. while his justice reposes.” “Do you not know what became of him. I raised my head quickly. it is worth fifty thousand francs. he never was a friend of mine. Take the diamond.” “What. the abbe took the diamond from his pocket.“Then you did not see either of them?” “No.” 324 .” “How was that?” “As I went away a purse fell at my feet – it contained five and twenty louis. and I repeat my wish that this sum may suffice to release you from your wretchedness. have remained poor. then. who at once shut the blind. as you see.” “You are mistaken. my friend. he married Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. and the share he had in Edmond’s misfortunes?” “No. and forgotten. I only know that some time after Edmond’s arrest. sir. Edmond had one friend only. no doubt he has been as lucky as the rest. do not jest with me!” “This diamond was to have been shared among his friends. I did not know him. and thus it cannot be divided. said. – “Here. and saw Mercedes. but Madame de Morcerf saw me. but there always comes a moment when he remembers – and behold – a proof!” As he spoke. my friend. as high in station as Fernand.” replied the abbe. it is yours. and giving it to Caderousse. no doubt he is as rich as Danglars. for me only?” cried Caderousse. I only. and I had nothing to ask of him. wretched. de Villefort?” asked the abbe. “ah. “God may seem sometimes to forget for a time. take this diamond.

sir. and may this money profit you! Adieu. and which you tell me is still in your hands.” he continued. and then returned by the road he had travelled in coming. When Caderousse turned 325 . convinced by his manner and tone that Caderousse spoke the truth.” said Caderousse. “for no one knew that Edmond had given you this diamond. I have told everything to you as it occurred. “give me the red silk purse that M. and I never make a jest of such feelings.” said the abbe to himself. round which were two copper runners that had once been gilt. do not make a jest of the happiness or despair of a man. then. sir. “in this corner is a crucifix in holy wood – here on this shelf is my wife’s testament. The abbe took it. and you might have kept it. you are a man of God. went toward a large oaken cupboard. sir. and as the recording angel will tell it to the ear of God at the day of the last judgment!” “‘Tis well. who touched the diamond.” cried Caderousse.” said the abbe. but in exchange – ” Caderousse. and I will swear upon it with my hand on the crucifix. I will swear to you by my soul’s salvation. putting out one hand timidly. sir.” Caderousse. The abbe smiled. opened it. “all you have told me is perfectly true. more and more astonished.” The abbe rose. “In exchange.” he said. once more saluted the innkeeper. – “Oh. and in return gave Caderousse the diamond.” “Which. withdrew his hand.” “See. I go far from men who thus so bitterly injure each other. “‘Tis well. my faith as a Christian. open this book. got out and mounted his horse. and I may believe it in every particular. Take it.“Oh. who kept uttering his loud farewells. opened the door himself. Morrel left on old Dantes’ chimney-piece. “you would have done. “Oh. and gave the abbe a long purse of faded red silk. “Well. then.” replied Caderousse.” “I know what happiness and what despair are. took his hat and gloves.” The abbe with difficulty got away from the enthusiastic thanks of Caderousse. and with the other wiping away the perspiration which bedewed his brow.

in a gloomy voice. and I will show it to them. here it is. and I shall be back in two hours. “we will soon find out. he saw behind him La Carconte. you blockhead!” Caderousse remained for a moment aghast under the weight of such an idea. “False! Why should that man give me a false diamond?” “To get your secret without paying for it. and then said. “False!” he muttered. paler and trembling more than ever. “What? That he has given the diamond to us only?” inquired Caderousse. and ran rapidly in the direction opposite to that which the priest had taken.around. Look after the house.” 326 . the fair is on at Beaucaire. “it is a large sum of money.” and Caderousse left the house in haste. there are always jewellers from Paris there. nothing more true! See. all that I have heard really true?” she inquired. “Fifty thousand francs!” muttered La Carconte when left alone. “Suppose it’s false?” Caderousse started and turned pale. half bewildered with joy. “Oh!” he said.” The woman gazed at it a moment. which he placed on the red handkerchief tied round his head.” “In what way?” “Why. “yes. wife. but it is not a fortune. taking up his hat. then. “Is.

This is all I can say. and who has up to this time fulfilled every engagement with scrupulous punctuality. he has. express from Rome. Morrel. We are. but it is not for me. therefore. dressed in a bright blue frock coat. Rue de Nouailles.” said he. connected with the house of Morrel & Son. “I am chief clerk of the house of Thomson & French. I have come. of Marseilles. having the appearance and accent of an Englishman. “Sir. sir. to give any information as to the state of his finances. nankeen trousers. and if there be any grounds for apprehension. 15. de Boville was in his private room. de Boville. and suffered by three or four bankruptcies. to ask you for information. as mayor. of Rome. made a gesture of surprise. two hundred thousand francs in Morrel’s hands. address yourself to M. and the Englishman. proceeding with a characteristic British stride towards the street mentioned. which seemed to indicate that it was not the first time he had been in his 327 . We have a hundred thousand francs or thereabouts loaned on their securities. made his bow and went away. No. presented himself before the mayor of Marseilles. Ask of me. I believe. The day after that in which the scene we have just described had taken place on the road between Bellegarde and Beaucaire. “I know very well that during the last four or five years misfortune has seemed to pursue M. and I shall say that he is a man honorable to the last degree.Chapter 28: The Prison Register. on perceiving him. if you wish to learn more. although I am a creditor myself to the amount of ten thousand francs. Morrel. and we are a little uneasy at reports that have reached us that the firm is on the brink of ruin. what is my opinion of M. and have been these ten years.” replied the mayor. M. and a white waistcoat.” “Sir. the inspector of prisons. He has lost four or five vessels. as this is a greater amount than mine.” The Englishman seemed to appreciate this extreme delicacy. a man of about thirty or two and thirty. you will most probably find him better informed than myself.

and these two hundred thousand francs were payable. – “From which it would appear. with the coolness of his nation. sir. addressed him in terms nearly similar to those with which he had accosted the mayor of Marseilles.” “It looks more like bankruptcy!” exclaimed M. “your fears are unfortunately but too well founded. did not come into port on the 15th.” “Well. these two hundred thousand francs were the dowry of my daughter. half on the 15th of this month. de Boville. and you see before you a man in despair. who was to be married in a fortnight. Morrel of my desire to have these payments punctually. and then said.” said the Englishman.presence. that it was evident all the faculties of his mind. he was in such a state of despair. The Englishman. and the other half on the 15th of next month. the Pharaon. The Englishman appeared to reflect a moment. de Boville. “Oh.” exclaimed M. that this credit inspires you with considerable apprehension?” “To tell you the truth. de Boville despairingly. I had two hundred thousand francs placed in the hands of Morrel & Son. did not allow either his memory or his imagination to stray to the past. I!” “But at a tremendous discount. absorbed in the thought which occupied him at the moment. then.” “But. As to M. sir. I had informed M. I will buy it of you!” “You?” “Yes. of course?” 328 . and he has been here within the last halfhour to tell me that if his ship. he would be wholly unable to make this payment. I consider it lost. “this looks very much like a suspension of payment.

“that is the affair of the house of Thomson & French. A ray of joy passed across M. de Boville. laughing. and do not do such things – no. de Boville’s countenance. sir.” “And you will pay” – “Ready money.” replied the Englishman. which might have been twice the sum M. “does not do things in that way.“No. “I am like my house.” 329 . I ought to tell you that. “The commission is usually one and a half. and said. the commission I ask is quite different. for two hundred thousand francs.” “Name it. you will not realize six per cent of this sum. But all I know. that is perfectly just.” cried M. in all probability. that I am ready to hand you over this sum in exchange for your assignment of the debt.” “That’s no affair of mine. will you have two – three – five per cent. I only ask a brokerage.” added the Englishman with a laugh. some motive to serve in hastening the ruin of a rival firm.” “To these registers there are added notes relative to the prisoners?” “There are special reports on every prisoner. yet he made an effort at self-control.” “Of course. I beg. or even more? Whatever you say.” “You keep the registers of entries and departures?” “I do.” “You are the inspector of prisons?” “I have been so these fourteen years. Our house. sir. perhaps.” replied the Englishman. in whose name I act.” “Sir. is. – “Sir.” And the Englishman drew from his pocket a bundle of bank-notes. de Boville feared to lose. They have.

– a very resolute and very dangerous man. he was. and offered vast sums to the government if they would liberate him.“Well.” “You have a good memory. but what sort of madness was it?” “He pretended to know of an immense treasure.” “Poor devil! – and he is dead?” “Yes.” “Oh. which a close observer would have been astonished at discovering in his phlegmatic countenance.” “Oh. I recollect him perfectly.” “Very possibly. sir. who disappeared suddenly.” “What was his name?” “The Abbe Faria. sir.” 330 . sir. the abbe’s dungeon was forty or fifty feet distant from that of one of Bonaparte’s emissaries. “Oh dear. yes. sir. and I should like to learn some particulars of his death. decidedly.” “May I ask what that was?” said the Englishman with an expression of curiosity. de Boville. to recollect dates so well. because the poor devil’s death was accompanied by a singular incident. I have since learned that he was confined in the Chateau d’If.” “I recollect this.” “So they said. – one of those who had contributed the most to the return of the usurper in 1815.” cried M. five or six months ago – last February. “he was crazy. I was educated at home by a poor devil of an abbe.

yes. the Abbe Faria had an attack of catalepsy. and we could only go into his dungeon with a file of soldiers. took his place in the sack in which they had sewed up the corpse. no doubt. “Yes. “but not for the survivor.” “That must have cut short the projects of escape. “I myself had occasion to see this man in 1816 or 1817. or made them. this Dantes saw a means of accelerating his escape.” “It was a bold step. for they found a tunnel through which the prisoners held communication with one another.“Indeed!” said the Englishman. sir. with an intention of escape?” “No doubt. and he conveyed the dead man into his own cell. that this Edmond Dantes had procured tools.” replied M. de Boville. and died. de Boville. on the contrary.” “For the dead man. no doubt. That man made a deep impression on me. and one that showed some courage. 331 . but unfortunately for the prisoners. and awaited the moment of interment.” remarked the Englishman. thought that prisoners who died in the Chateau d’If were interred in an ordinary burial-ground. “that the two dungeons” – “Were separated by a distance of fifty feet. but it appears that this Edmond Dantes” – “This dangerous man’s name was” – “Edmond Dantes. It appears.” “This tunnel was dug. He. I shall never forget his countenance!” The Englishman smiled imperceptibly.” he interposed.” replied M. sir. “And you say.

and.” continued the Englishman who first gained his composure. and he laughed too. he was a very dangerous man. “Yes.” “The Chateau d’If has no cemetery.” observed the Englishman as if he were slow of comprehension. “he was drowned?” “Unquestionably. sir. “at the end of his teeth. after fastening a thirty-six pound cannon-ball to their feet.” “Well. in supreme good-humor at the certainty of recovering his two hundred thousand francs.” “Really!” exclaimed the Englishman.” “No matter. and threw him into the sea. I can fancy it. but he laughed as the English do. by his own act disembarrassed the government of the fears it had on his account.” replied De Boville.” “And so. they fastened a thirty-six pound ball to his feet.” “That would have been difficult.” 332 .“As I have already told you. fortunately. sir. “You may imagine the amazement of the fugitive when he found himself flung headlong over the rocks! I should like to have seen his face at that moment.” “How was that?” “How? Do you not comprehend?” “No.” said the Englishman. “So can I. and they simply throw the dead into the sea.” continued the inspector of prisons.” And he shouted with laughter. – “no matter. “Well.

Everything was here arranged in perfect order. He is dead. “But to return to these registers. Excuse me.” “So that now. and they may have the fact attested whenever they please. if he had any. “Yes. sir. you will much oblige me. while De Boville seated himself in a corner. and no mistake about it. and I will show it to you.” “Yes. they may do so with easy conscience. So. yes. de Boville’s study. I suppose?” inquired the Englishman. you wish to see all relating to the poor abbe.” And they both entered M.“So that the governor got rid of the dangerous and the crazy prisoner at the same time?” “Precisely. and began to read his newspaper.” said the Englishman.” “Oh. the mortuary deposition. Dantes’ relations. if there were anything to inherit from him.” “True. each register had its number. but it seemed that the history which the 333 . and placed before him the register and documents relative to the Chateau d’If. The Englishman easily found the entries relative to the Abbe Faria. might have some interest in knowing if he were dead or alive. it really seems to me very curious. indeed. each file of papers its place. You understand. who really was gentleness itself. this story has diverted our attention from them.” “But some official document was drawn up as to this affair.” “So be it. The inspector begged the Englishman to seat himself in an arm-chair. giving him all the time he desired for the examination.” “Go into my study here. yes.” “Yes.” “Excuse you for what? For the story? By no means.

examination. took an active part in the return from the Island of Elba. and discovered that the note in the bracket was the same writing as the certificate – that is to say. from the remarks we have quoted. He was no longer astonished when he searched on to find in the register this note. de Villefort’s marginal notes. and saw that the name of Noirtier was not mentioned in it. Beneath these lines was written in another hand: “See note above – nothing can be done. exaggerated with the best intentions (for Napoleon was then on the throne) the services Dantes had rendered to the imperial cause – services which Villefort’s certificates rendered indispensable. kept back by Villefort. under the second restoration. and put it as quietly in his pocket. had seated himself in a 334 . As we have said. There he found everything arranged in due order. and to be closely watched and guarded.inspector had related interested him greatly. placed in a bracket against his name: – Edmond Dantes. the application dated 10th April. too. found it impossible to give any effect to the interest he had felt. had become. was in Villefort’s handwriting. M. – the accusation. He folded up the accusation quietly. from discretion. for after having perused the first documents he turned over the leaves until he reached the deposition respecting Edmond Dantes. As to the note which accompanied this. This petition to Napoleon. by the deputy procureur’s advice. Then he saw through the whole thing. An inveterate Bonapartist. 1815. the inspector. perused. read the examination. in which Morrel. a terrible weapon against him in the hands of the king’s attorney. but who had. To be kept in strict solitary confinement. Morrel’s petition. and that he might not disturb the Abbe Faria’s pupil in his researches. the Englishman understood that it might have been added by some inspector who had taken a momentary interest in Dantes’ situation.” He compared the writing in the bracket with the writing of the certificate placed beneath Morrel’s petition.

” said the latter..M. he attached so little importance to this scrap of paper. gave his seat to M.” But it must be said that if he had seen it. delivery 6 o’clock.” He rose. who took it without ceremony. “I have all I want. that he would not have opposed whatever the Englishman might do. and so much importance to his two hundred thousand francs. now it is for me to perform my promise. 27th Feb. 335 . and was reading Le Drapeau Blanc. de Boville. Give me a simple assignment of your debt. however irregular it might be. P.corner. while the Englishman counted out the bank-notes on the other side of the desk. closing the register with a slam. and I will hand you over the money. He did not see the Englishman fold up and place in his pocket the accusation written by Danglars under the arbor of La Reserve. acknowledge therein the receipt of the cash. “Thanks. and which had the postmark. and quickly drew up the required assignment. “Marseilles.

no matter what scheme or what trap was laid to catch him. from a firm conviction. well acquainted with the interior of Morrel’s warehouse. who was in love with M. and of happiness that permeates a flourishing and prosperous business establishment – instead of merry faces at the windows. of comfort. Cocles was the only one unmoved. the other was an old one-eyed cashier. Morrel. on the contrary. and had remained with him in spite of the efforts of his friends to induce him to withdraw. in all probability. Out of all the numerous clerks that used to fill the deserted corridor and the empty office. and strong in the multiplication-table. good.” a nickname given him by the young men who used to throng this vast now almost deserted bee-hive. Any one who had quitted Marseilles a few years previously. Morrel’s service. and which had so completely replaced his real name that he would not. but two remained. he had at the same time risen to the rank of cashier. Morrel’s daughter. He was. one would have immediately perceived all aspect of sadness and gloom. the only point on which he would have stood firm against the world.Chapter 29: The House of Morrel & Son. 336 . patient. even against M.” or “Cock-eye. the same Cocles. however. so all the numerous clerks had by degrees deserted the office and the warehouse. would have found a great change. and a most singular change had taken place in his position. have replied to any one who addressed him by it. devoted. re-echoing with the cries and the jokes of porters. Instead of that air of life. Like the rats that one by one forsake the doomed ship even before the vessel weighs anchor. busy clerks hurrying to and fro in the long corridors – instead of the court filled with bales of goods. One was a young man of three or four and twenty. and sunk to the rank of a servant. but inflexible on the subject of arithmetic. called “Cocles. Cocles had seen them go without thinking of inquiring the cause of their departure. In the midst of the disasters that befell the house. But this did not arise from a want of affection. Cocles remained in M. and had returned at this date. which he had at his fingers’ ends.

By this means the end of the month was passed. Morrel’s. was no longer to be had. himself the pearl of the honest men of Marseilles. saying: – “Thanks. who. threw them into an almost empty drawer. but his resources were now exhausted. Such was the state of affairs when. and the same evening he had brought them to M. owing to the reports afloat. for this eulogium of M. in reality. de Boville. Nothing had as yet occurred to shake Cocles’ belief. while no intelligence had been received of the Pharaon. Credit. presented himself at M. that it seemed as impossible to him that the house should stop payment. this young man was alarmed by the appearance of every new face. the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French of Rome. Morrel.Everything was as we have said. flattered him more than a present of fifty crowns. But since the end of the month M. Morrel. and to meet the one hundred thousand francs due on the 10th of the present month. and which had already arrived in harbor. came from Calcutta. a question of arithmetic to Cocles. Cocles. Morrel had. fearing lest the report of his distress should get bruited abroad at Marseilles when he was known to be reduced to such an extremity. with a melancholy smile. had been in for a fortnight. Emmanuel received him. you are the pearl of cashiers.” Cocles went away perfectly happy. M. of whose departure he had learnt from a vessel which had weighed anchor at the same time. Morrel had passed many an anxious hour. he went to the Beaucaire fair to sell his wife’s and daughter’s jewels and a portion of his plate. for every 337 . as it would to a miller that the river that had so long turned his mill should cease to flow. like the Pharaon. and. and during twenty years he had always seen all payments made with such exactitude. he had collected all his resources. and the one hundred thousand francs due on the 15th of the next month to M. the day after his interview with M. de Boville. In order to meet the payments then due. Cocles had detected an overbalance of fourteen sous in his cash. no hope but the return of the Pharaon. But this vessel which. the last month’s payment had been made with the most scrupulous exactitude.

with whom your father does business. and if my father is there. turning over the formidable columns of his ledger. She entered the office where Emmanuel was. Morrel’s apartment. I think so. while the stranger and Cocles continued to mount the staircase. arose. On the staircase they met a beautiful girl of sixteen or seventeen. Cocles.” returned the Englishman. and found Morrel seated at a table. “Go and see. by the aid of a key he possessed. opened a door in the corner of a landing-place on the second staircase. announce this gentleman. at least. Cocles appeared. conducted the stranger into an ante-chamber. M. once so firm and penetrating. in his thirty-sixth year at the opening of this history. The Englishman entered. Morrel is in his room. The young man. and summoned Cocles.” “It will be useless to announce me. was now in his fiftieth. resumed his own chair. opened a second door. mademoiselle.new face might be that of a new creditor. was now 338 . who looked with anxiety at the stranger. this worthy gentleman has only to announce the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French of Rome. Mademoiselle Julie?” said the cashier. At the sight of the stranger. which he closed behind him. is he not. Emmanuel. come in anxiety to question the head of the house. Fourteen years had changed the worthy merchant.” said the young girl hesitatingly. and that his business was with M. questioned the new-comer. and offered a seat to the stranger. who. time and sorrow had ploughed deep furrows on his brow. while Cocles.” The young girl turned pale and continued to descend. Morrel in person. his hair had turned white. “M. and when he had seen him seated. and after having left the clerk of the house of Thomson & French alone. “M. and the young man bade him conduct the stranger to M. and the stranger followed him. and his look. “Yes. returned and signed to him that he could enter. wishing to spare his employer the pain of this interview. Cocles went first. which contained the list of his liabilities. Morrel closed the ledger. Emmanuel sighed. but the stranger declared that he had nothing to say to M. Morrel does not know my name.

The Englishman looked at him with an air of curiosity. and for a considerable sum. monsieur. “Here is. as if he feared being forced to fix his attention on some particular thought or person. knowing your strict punctuality. sir. and passed his hand over his forehead. half the 15th of next.” “What is the amount?” asked Morrel with a voice he strove to render firm.” said the Englishman. of course. “you wish to speak to me?” “Yes. you are aware from whom I come?” “The house of Thomson & French.000 francs to pay this month in France.” “He has told you rightly.” said Morrel. have collected all the bills bearing your signature.” said Morrel. the inspector of prisons.000 francs to our house by M. taking a quantity of papers from his pocket. “So then. de Boville.irresolute and wandering.000 or 400. “an assignment of 200.” Morrel sighed deeply. at least. and to employ the money otherwise.” 339 . and. and charged me as they became due to present them. so my cashier tells me. that you owe this sum to him?” “Yes. evidently mingled with interest. “Monsieur. which was covered with perspiration. he placed the money in my hands at four and a half per cent nearly five years ago. “you hold bills of mine?” “Yes.” “When are you to pay?” “Half the 15th of this month. The house of Thomson & French had 300. to whom they are due. You acknowledge. whose uneasiness was increased by this examination.

” said the other. after a moment’s silence. yet the report is current in Marseilles that you are not able to meet your liabilities. “a straightforward answer should be given. amounting to nearly 55. who had himself conducted it for five and thirty years – never has anything bearing the signature of Morrel & Son been dishonored. and assigned to our house by the holders. in all. shall you pay these with the same punctuality?” Morrel shuddered. for the first time in his life.” “I recognize them. who spoke with more assurance than he had hitherto shown. “Is this all?” “No. for its arrival will again procure me the credit which the numerous accidents.“Just so. “if this last resource fail you?” 340 . that while your probity and exactitude up to this moment are universally acknowledged. as I hope. sir.” replied the Englishman. as he thought that. and looked at the man. but if the Pharaon should be lost. he would be unable to honor his own signature. if. have deprived me. my vessel arrives safely. I have for the end of the month these bills which have been assigned to us by the house of Pascal. whose face was suffused. “To questions frankly put. “Sir. tell me fairly.” said he. I shall pay.” replied the Englishman.000 francs. of which I have been the victim.500 francs.” It is impossible to describe what Morrel suffered during this enumeration. 287.” “I know that.” said he. Yes. and now here are 32.500 francs payable shortly. “Yes.” continued he.” said Morrel. “up to this time – and it is now more than four-and-twenty years since I received the direction of this house from my father. “But as a man of honor should answer another. “Two hundred and eighty-seven thousand five hundred francs. and this last resource be gone” – the poor man’s eyes filled with tears.” At this almost brutal speech Morrel turned deathly pale. they are all signed by you.” repeated he. “conceal from you. “Well. and the house of Wild & Turner of Marseilles. “I will not.

– completely ruined!” “As I was on my way here.” Then in a low voice Morrel added. only correspondents. and brings you some tidings of her?” “Shall I tell you plainly one thing.” “And it is not yours?” “No.” “So that if this fail” – “I am ruined. La Gironde. The 341 .” “Perhaps she has spoken the Pharaon. he has informed me of the arrival of this ship. she comes from India also. sir. passes a part of his time in a belvidere at the top of the house. she is a Bordeaux vessel.” “Have you no friends who could assist you?” Morrel smiled mournfully. “one has no friends. “In business. sir. Uncertainty is still hope.” “The last?” “The last. – “This delay is not natural.“Well.” “I know it.” “It is true. a vessel was coming into port.” “But one. in hopes of being the first to announce good news to me. I fear I shall be forced to suspend payment.” murmured the Englishman. but she is not mine. I must habituate myself to shame. who still adheres to my fallen fortunes.” returned Morrel. but. “then you have but one hope. a young man. “it is a cruel thing to be forced to say. already used to misfortune. sir? I dread almost as much to receive any tidings of my vessel as to remain in doubt.” said he.

but she made an affirmative sign with her head as she lay on her father’s breast. the stranger gazing at him with an air of profound pity. He would have spoken. and the creaking of hinges was audible. but his voice failed him. “There are only two persons who have the key to that door. then?” said Morrel in a hoarse voice.” Morrel again changed color. appeared. father!” murmured she. her eyes bathed with tears. “Saved. Morrel trembling in every limb. father!” said she.Pharaon left Calcutta the 5th February.” “What is that?” said the Englishman. but his strength failed him and he sank into a chair. and that the footsteps.” said the girl. The stranger fancied he heard footsteps on the stairs. which were those of several persons. The noise had ceased. “saved by the crew of the vessel that has just entered the harbor. father. “What is the meaning of that noise?” “Oh.” murmured Morrel. “Cocles and Julie. and something must follow. “Oh. stopped at the door. but it seemed that Morrel expected something – something had occasioned the noise. she ought to have been here a month ago. The two men remained opposite one another. and half-stifled sobs. Morrel rose tremblingly. Julie threw herself into his arms.” At this instant the second door opened. A key was inserted in the lock of the first door. oh!” cried Morrel. clasping her hands. and the young girl. supporting himself by the arm of the chair. “what is it?” A loud noise was heard on the stairs of people moving hastily. turning pale. “courage!” “The Pharaon has gone down. “forgive your child for being the bearer of evil tidings. The young girl did not speak.” Morrel raised his two hands to heaven with an 342 . Morrel rose and advanced to the door. “And the crew?” asked Morrel. “Oh.

“How did this happen?” said Morrel. turned his head. Penelon. “and tell us all about it. 343 . come in. twirling the remains of a tarpaulin between his hands. who could not refrain from smiling through his tears. Emmanuel followed her.” Scarcely had he uttered those words than Madame Morrel entered weeping bitterly. – he has stayed behind sick at Palma. and sent a long jet of tobacco-juice into the antechamber. “for I presume you are all at the door. “where is the captain?” “The captain. Morrel. “Thanks. it won’t be much. At the sight of these men the Englishman started and advanced a step. and retired into the farthest and most obscure corner of the apartment. Penelon.expression of resignation and sublime gratitude. M.” said the young man. placed his hand before his mouth.” An old seaman. “Draw nearer.” returned Morrel.” A tear moistened the eye of the phlegmatic Englishman. and you will see him in a few days all alive and hearty. advanced. and had just returned from Aix or Toulon.” Penelon rolled his quid in his cheek. as if he had just quitted Marseilles the previous evening. Emmanuel stood in the centre of the chamber and seemed to form the link between Morrel’s family and the sailors at the door. but please God. then restrained himself. bronzed by the tropical sun.” “Well. “at least thou strikest but me alone. my God. and in the antechamber were visible the rough faces of seven or eight half-naked sailors. Morrel.” said Morrel. “Good-day.” said he. “Come in. Julie still lay with her head on his shoulder. M. Madame Morrel sat down by her husband and took one of his hands in hers. now tell your story.” said he. “Good-day. Penelon.

We are carrying too much canvas. ‘Penelon. sonorous. captain? Why I think that they are rising faster than they have any business to do. ‘and I’ll take precautions accordingly.’ said the captain. all hands! Take in the studding-sl’s and stow the flying jib. south-south-west after a week’s calm.’ answered he. sir.” said the Englishman.” said the old sailor respectfully. ten minutes after we struck our tops’ls and scudded under bare poles. and we sailed under mizzen-tops’ls and to’gall’nt sails. Morrel. lower the to’gall’nt sails. – “You see. Penelon. or I don’t know what’s what. “I should have taken four reefs in the topsails and furled the spanker. it was down. M. all hands lower the mains’l!’ Five minutes after. haul the brace. sailing with a fair breeze. “we were somewhere between Cape Blanc and Cape Boyador.’“ “That was not enough for those latitudes.’ said the captain. when Captain Gaumard comes up to me – I was at the helm I should tell you – and says. Penelon put his hand over his eyes. and began.’ ‘A gale? More than that. balanced himself.” “The vessel was very old to risk that.’ I says.” His firm. ‘Well. we shall have a tempest. ‘Penelon.” said he. “Eh. ‘Ah. and unexpected voice made every one start.advanced his foot.’ – ‘That’s my opinion too. ‘let go the bowlin’s. ‘we have still too much canvas set. “we put the helm up to run before the tempest. what do you think of those clouds coming up over there?’ I was just then looking at them myself. ‘I think we are 344 . luckily the captain understood his business. ‘we shall have a gale. ‘Take in two reefs in the tops’ls.’ It was time. and then stared at the man who thus criticized the manoeuvres of his captain. Avast. ‘what makes you shake your head?’ ‘Why.’ cried the captain. haul out the reef-tackles on the yards.’ You could see the wind coming like the dust at Montredon.’ said the captain. it was that that did the business. and the vessel began to heel.’ ‘I think you’re right. ‘I still think you’ve got too much on. after pitching heavily for twelve hours we sprung a leak. the squall was on us. and that they would not be so black if they didn’t mean mischief.” said the Englishman.’ said the captain. there. “We did better than that. ‘What do I think.

we can die but once. made for us. she perceived us. M. and took us all on board. ‘Get along – save yourselves. ‘All hands to the pumps!’ I shouted. when we saw La Gironde.’ ‘That’s the example you set. Penelon. but it was too late. only two inches an hour.’ I gave him the helm. ‘very well. and then I jumped after him. ‘Ah. and threw him into the boat. ‘we have done all in our power. “you see.” continued the sailor. and go down into the hold.’ He went into his cabin and came back with a brace of pistols. ‘Come. that’s the whole truth. wait a minute. on the honor of a sailor. and it seemed the more we pumped the more came in. he did not descend. a sailor is attached to his ship. and M. but the water kept rising. he would not quit the vessel. Morrel.sinking. As for us. Morrel will have nothing to reproach us with. and all eight of us got into it. and three we had before.” “Well done!” said the Englishman. but still more to his life. 345 . and then good-by to the Pharaon. but in twelve hours that makes two feet. ‘I will blow the brains out of the first man who leaves the pump. let us sink. give me the helm. not much. let us now save ourselves. that makes five. ‘since we are sinking. you fellows there?” A general murmur of approbation showed that the narrator had faithfully detailed their misfortunes and sufferings. “There’s nothing gives you so much courage as good reasons. my lads. spun round and round. There now. Ten minutes after she pitched forward. after four hours’ work. Two inches an hour does not seem much. the more so. but still it rose.’ Now.’ cries the captain. “and during that time the wind had abated.’ said I. and descended. so I took him round the waist. we made signals of distress.” continued Penelon. To the boats. so we did not wait to be told twice. that the ship was sinking under us.’ said he. there was already three feet of water. we have tried to save the ship. M.’ said the captain. for just as I jumped the deck burst with a noise like the broadside of a man-of-war. It was time. and the sea gone down. so that we began to think of drawing lots who should feed the rest. is not it true. Morrel. and seemed to say. as quick as you can. The captain descended last. we were three days without anything to eat or drink. or rather.’ We soon launched the boat. then the other way.

” “Well. Morrel.” “Thanks. M. blessed be his name. “I know there was no one in fault but destiny.” said he.” 346 .” added be. It was the will of God that this should happen. and the little money that remains to me is not my own. then. you are then angry with us!” “No. Give them. thanks!” cried Morrel gratefully. fortunately he recovered. and that we will wait for the rest. and exchanged a few words with them. “I should have said. you are free to do so. we all say that fifty francs will be enough for us at present. and I do not send you away. but times are changed. “I am not angry. again turning his quid. “As for that. “as for that” – “As for what?” “The money. “What. but I have no more ships. my friends. Morrel.” said Morrel.“Well. three months. but we will talk of it.” said M.” said Penelon. M. What wages are due to you?” “Oh. “At another time. Penelon nearly swallowed his quid. pay two hundred francs to each of these good fellows. two hundred francs over as a present. and therefore I do not want any sailors. no. besides. Morrel. Morrel!” said he in a low voice. Morrel. don’t let us talk of that.” “Yes.” Penelon turned to his companions. “Cocles. “take it – take it.” said M. quite the contrary.” “Well” – “Well. M.” These last words produced a prodigious effect on the seaman. well. “you send us away. and if you can find another employer. enter his service.

in which he had taken no part. “you have heard all. go with them.” “Enough. M.” “No more money? Then you must not pay us.” 347 . “Yes.” said the owner to his wife and daughter. The two women looked at this person whose presence they had entirely forgotten.” He made a sign to Cocles. and this only increases my desire to serve you. “Well. Morrel?” asked Penelon. we shall see each other again. I hope so. I wish to speak with this gentleman. Penelon. Now go. then. to which he replied by a smile that an indifferent spectator would have been surprised to see on his stern features. “Now.” “I see. and retired.” And he glanced towards the clerk of Thomson & French. “leave me. “so I cannot accept your kind offer.” “I have no money to build ships with. sir!” cried Morrel. “Let me see.” “Oh. we can scud. sinking into a chair.” returned the Englishman. at least. and see that my orders are executed. as she left the apartment. like the Pharaon. we shall meet again in a happier time. sir. I pray you. “that a fresh and unmerited misfortune his overwhelmed you.” “Your bills. “well. and I have nothing further to tell you.” said the poor owner mournfully. Julie gave the stranger a supplicating glance. “leave me.” “At least. almost overpowered. The two men were left alone. Emmanuel. “I am one of your largest creditors. you’ll build some. enough!” cried Morrel. at least. we’ll wait for you. who went first. who had remained motionless in the corner during this scene. are the first that will fall due. but.” said Morrel. under bare poles. except the few words we have mentioned. the seamen followed him and Emmanuel brought up the rear.” continued the stranger.“No more ships!” returned Penelon.

” returned Julie. “Two months. and on the 5th of September at eleven o’clock (the hand of the clock pointed to eleven). overwhelming him with grateful blessings.” “How long a delay do you wish for?” – Morrel reflected. “one day you will receive a letter signed ‘Sinbad the Sailor. and Morrel. The bills were renewed. To-day is the 5th of June. I take everything on myself. “will the house of Thomson & French consent?” “Oh. “and I will pay you – or I shall he dead. she pretended to be descending. sir” – said she. I shall come to receive the money. renew these bills up to the 5th of September.” “Yes. “I will give you three.” returned Morrel. The Englishman received his thanks with the phlegm peculiar to his nation.” asked Morrel. and the poor ship-owner found himself with three months before him to collect his resources. “But. The stranger met Julie on the stairs.’ Do exactly what the letter bids you.” These last words were uttered in so low a tone that the stranger could not hear them.” said he.” “Yes. “Oh. the old ones destroyed. however strange it may appear. clasping her hands. sir. and consequently my life.” “Well.” “I shall expect you.” said the stranger.“Do you wish for time to pay?” “A delay would save my honor.” replied the stranger. “Mademoiselle. but in reality she was waiting for him. “Do you promise?” 348 . conducted him to the staircase.

and I have great hopes that heaven will reward you by giving you Emmanuel for a husband. who. seemed unable to make up his mind to retain them. Continue to be the good. sweet girl you are at present. blushed like a rose. and leaned against the baluster.” 349 . mademoiselle.” Julie uttered a faint cry. with a rouleau of a hundred francs in either hand. In the court he found Penelon. Adieu. The stranger waved his hand.” said the Englishman. and continued to descend.“I swear to you I will. my friend.” “It is well. “Come with me. “I wish to speak to you.

500 francs of bills. and on the 30th the 32. who had shown themselves so considerate towards him. at the moment when Morrel expected it least. Great. was to the poor shipowner so decided a stroke of good fortune that he almost dared to believe that fate was at length grown weary of wasting her spite upon him.000 francs at the end of three months than hasten his ruin. The same day he told his wife. and not friends. he had time granted. he must be a ruined man. he cancelled all his obligations with his usual punctuality. thanks to the delay granted by the Englishman. Cocles thus remained in his accustomed tranquillity. Still confidence was not restored to all minds.000 francs. The opinion of all the commercial men was that. as he had said. he could by no means account for this generous conduct on the part of Thomson & French towards him.000 francs of M. in business he had correspondents. and. if not of tranquillity. for which. whether through envy or stupidity. was the astonishment when at the end of the month. de Boville. and his daughter all that had occurred. and a ray of hope. Morrel had not only engagements with the house of Thomson & French. however. all Morrel’s correspondents did not take this view. It was Morrel alone who remembered with alarm. as well as the debt due to the inspector of prisons. and. therefore. it was impossible for him to remain solvent. Unfortunately. and could only attribute it to some such selfish argument as this: – “We had better help a man who owes us nearly 300. and the general opinion was that the complete ruin of the unfortunate shipowner had been postponed only 350 . returned to the family.Chapter 30: The Fifth of September. Emmanuel. under the reverses which had successively weighed down Morrel. were paid by Cocles with equal punctuality. The extension provided for by the agent of Thomson & French. When he thought the matter over.” Unfortunately. that if he had to repay on the 15th the 50. The bills signed by Morrel were presented at his office with scrupulous exactitude. and some even came to a contrary decision. and have those 300. and get only six or eight per cent of our money back again.

who was going up. at any date. and M. Formerly his paper. stared stupidly with his great eyes. he was. they must have found snug berths elsewhere. and only acknowledged the squeeze of the hand which Morrel as usual gave him by a slight pressure in return. “may your new master love you as I loved you. he had disappeared. The worthy shipowner knew. Captain Gaumard. When he saw his employer. and be more fortunate than I have been!” 351 . made good use of his money. it was evident the good fellow had not gone to such an expense on his own account. hearing of his arrival. and as in that city he had had no intercourse but with the mayor. “Worthy fellows!” said Morrel. he found himself in a condition to meet his engagements when the end of July came. Morrel now tried to negotiate bills at ninety days only. his departure left no trace except in the memories of these three persons. but the owner. Morrel attributed Penelon’s embarrassment to the elegance of his attire. and Morrel made extraordinary efforts to get in all his resources. drew on one side into the corner of the landing-place. The agent of Thomson & French had not been again seen at Marseilles. and thus his bashfulness arose from the fact of his not having. no doubt. As he descended the staircase. Morrel. and none of the banks would give him credit. the inspector of prisons. worn mourning for the Pharaon longer. Penelon had. the day after. from Penelon’s recital.until the end of the month. engaged on board some other vessel. as they reached him. for he was newly clad. or two days after his visit to Morrel. Morrel met Penelon. and. Fortunately. Morrel had some funds coming in on which he could rely. and was even in request. As to the sailors of the Pharaon. for they also had disappeared. went to see him. which Captain Gaumard had not dared to apply for. of the captain’s brave conduct during the storm. He delayed presenting himself at Morrel’s. was taken with confidence. as he went away. had returned from Palma. and tried to console him. The month passed. He brought him also the amount of his wages. the worthy tar seemed much embarrassed. Perhaps he had come to tell Captain Gaumard of his good luck. passed his quid from one cheek to the other. if we may so express ourselves. and to offer him employment from his new master. it would seem. recovered from his illness.

Danglars. “Then. It was said at this moment that Danglars was worth from six to eight millions of francs. for from this journey to Paris they hoped great things. moreover. and had unlimited credit. from first to last. And Morrel was right. and which Cocles paid as punctually as the bills which the shipowner had accepted. since to him it was owing that Danglars entered the service of the Spanish banker.” said the two women to Emmanuel. and had lain under great obligations to Morrel in former days. and Morrel was saved.August rolled by in unceasing efforts on the part of Morrel to renew his credit or revive the old. Besides. 352 . that Julie should write to her brother. and had delayed as long as possible availing himself of this last resource. and that Morrel had gone away and left his chief clerk Emmanuel. but had kept away from some instinctive motive. All this was incomprehensible. Morrel had thought of Danglars. “we are indeed ruined. paid all with the usual precision. who was in garrison at Nimes. On the 20th of August it was known at Marseilles that he had left town in the mailcoach. and then going to his private room on the second floor had sent for Cocles. Yet. two drafts which M. without taking a crown from his pocket. Morrel returned. could save Morrel. who was now immensely rich. examined all bills presented with the usual scrutiny. for he returned home crushed by the humiliation of a refusal. when the 31st of August came. and Cocles appeared behind the grating of the counter. The poor women felt instinctively that they required all their strength to support the blow that impended. Maximilian Morrel. to come to them as speedily as possible. to meet the creditors. on his arrival. he was awaited by his family with extreme anxiety. He embraced his weeping wife and daughter. pressed Emmanuel’s hand with friendly warmth. contrary to all expectation. and. with the tenacity peculiar to prophets of bad news. then. Morrel did not utter a complaint. Morrel had fully anticipated. On the 1st. the house opened as usual. with whom he had laid the foundations of his vast wealth. and then.” It was agreed in a brief council held among them. But. and his cashier Cocles. and then it was said that the bills would go to protest at the end of the month. or say one harsh word. There came in. Morrel had long thought of Danglars. the failure was put off until the end of September. he had but to pass his word for a loan.

For a year he had held this rank. He was a strong-minded. when Morrel went down to his dinner.000 francs. had great influence over his father.000. making the best of everything. and had in consequence studied hard. but had consulted young Maximilian’s taste. In his regiment Maximilian Morrel was noted for his rigid observance. and left it as sub-lieutenant of the 53d of the line. All his funds amounted to 6. gave him 14.000 or 5. opened the portfolio. but returned to his office. he appeared very calm. for the moment after Morrel had entered his private office with Cocles. She would have questioned him as he passed by her. This calmness was more alarming to the two women than the deepest dejection would have been. but also of the duties of a man. and his features betraying the utmost consternation. He had not even the means for making a possible settlement on account. and only raised his hands to heaven and exclaimed. a portfolio. However. upright young man. not only of the obligations imposed on a soldier. and counted the money. This was the young man whom his mother and sister called to their aid to sustain them under the serious trial which they felt they would soon have to endure. Julie saw the latter leave it pale. After dinner Morrel usually went out and used to take his coffee at the Phocaean club. At the time when he decided on his profession his father had no desire to choose for him. but the worthy creature hastened down the staircase with unusual precipitation. and did not even know what it meant. or 8. 353 . and he thus gained the name of “the stoic. and read the Semaphore. passed brilliantly through the Polytechnic School. this day he did not leave the house.000 francs to meet debts amounting to 287. and expected promotion on the first vacancy. He had at once declared for a military life.000. trembling.500 francs. mademoiselle.though hardly two and twenty. his bills receivable up to the 5th to 4. what a dreadful misfortune! Who could ever have believed it!” A moment afterwards Julie saw him go up-stairs carrying two or three heavy ledgers. “Oh. which. mademoiselle. Morrel examined the ledgers. They had not mistaken the gravity of this event. and a bag of money.” We need hardly say that many of those who gave him this epithet repeated it because they had heard it.

to see through the keyhole what her husband was doing. but they heard him pass before their door. uneasy herself. which seemed to her of bad omen. Madame Morrel looked again through the keyhole. and held her for a long time against his bosom. “What have I done wrong.As to Cocles. Morrel was writing. Julie trembled at this request. They had understood each other without speaking. he went into his sleeping-room. he seemed completely bewildered. what her daughter had not observed. The next two days passed in much the same way. but his eloquence faltered. Next day M. and yet had not strength to utter a word. In the passage she saw a retreating shadow. took off her shoes. Julie told her mother. took her head in his arms. that her husband was writing on stamped paper. father. that although he was apparently so calm. “that you should take this key from me?” 354 . and which was only taken from her in childhood as a punishment? The young girl looked at Morrel. and went stealthily along the passage. came to his breakfast punctually. and then. who. Morrel seemed as calm as ever. Morrel asked his daughter for the key of his study.” she said. but Madame Morrel remarked. hoping that when he left his room Morrel would come to them. M. she had noticed that her father’s heart beat violently. On the evening of the 4th of September. The terrible idea that he was writing his will flashed across her. and half an hour after Julie had retired. seated himself on a stone with his head bare and exposed to the blazing sun. They listened. after dinner. Why did her father ask for this key which she always kept. he placed his daughter beside him. she rose. Emmanuel tried to comfort the women. and trying to conceal the noise of his footsteps. For part of the day he went into the court-yard. “He is writing. and fastened the door inside. had anticipated her mother.” she said. Night came. The young lady went towards Madame Morrel. it was Julie. she shuddered. The young man was too well acquainted with the business of the house. the two women had watched. Madame Morrel sent her daughter to bed. went into his office as usual. not to feel that a great catastrophe hung over the Morrel family. In the evening.

He could not cease gazing at and kissing the sweet girl. The mother and daughter passed the night together. He was calm. and threw herself into her son’s arms. and I have come hither with all speed. and. During the night. but he said it in a tone of paternal kindness. or would not say what he knew. “what has occurred – what has happened? Your letter has frightened me.” said Madame Morrel. “go and tell your father that Maximilian has just arrived. making a sign to the young man. At these words Madame Morrel rose. – “nothing. the tears starting to his eyes at this simple question. – “Remain with your mother. between the 4th and 5th of September. looking alternately at Madame Morrel and her daughter. and a mouth pressed her forehead. Madame Morrel remained listening for every sound. dearest. and Julie did not dare to disobey. They did not dare to ask him how he had slept. She remained at the same spot standing mute and motionless. “I wish you to do so. It was three o’clock when he threw himself on the bed. if possible.“Nothing. than he had ever been. And she went out. my dear. only I want it. She looked up and uttered an exclamation of joy. “and to-morrow morning. Julie.” The young lady rushed 355 . she heard her husband pacing the room in great agitation. but he said to her quickly. but the agitation of the night was legible in his pale and careworn visage.” she said. but he knew nothing. do not quit him for a moment.” “Julie. “Do not give this key to your father.” Julie wished to accompany him. “Mother. she felt two arms encircle her. more affectionate to his daughter. “I must have left it in my room.” replied the unhappy man. “Maximilian.” said he. but instead of going to her apartment she hastened to consult Emmanuel.” She questioned Emmanuel.” said the young man. An instant afterwards the door opened.” Julie made a pretence to feel for the key. At eight o’clock in the morning Morrel entered their chamber. mindful of Emmanuel’s request. was following her father when he quitted the room. They had expected Maximilian since the previous evening. This was the first time Morrel had ever so spoken.” said he. until three o’clock in the morning. my dearest brother!” she cried. Morrel was kinder to his wife.

and saw there was a postscript.” This postscript decreased greatly the young girl’s happiness. She cast her eyes again over the note to peruse it a second time. She opened it quickly and read: – “Go this moment to the Allees de Meillan. the porter will reply that he does not know anything about it. “what is your pleasure? I do not know you. it may 356 .” said the messenger. handing it to her. or should any one else go in your place.” replied Julie with hesitation. with a strong Italian accent. looked round to question the messenger. but he had disappeared. She read: – “It is important that you should fulfil this mission in person and alone. “Sinbad the Sailor. “Are you not Mademoiselle Julie Morrel?” inquired the man. But there is no need to know danger in order to fear it. Julie hesitated. enter the apartment. “It concerns the best interests of your father.” he said. It is important that he should receive it before eleven o’clock. raised her eyes. Was there nothing to fear? was there not some snare laid for her? Her innocence had kept her in ignorance of the dangers that might assail a young girl of her age. indeed. “Yes. The young girl hastily took the letter from him. 15. but on the first step of the staircase she found a man holding a letter in his hand. ask the porter for the key of the room on the fifth floor. and give it to your father. enter the house No.” “Read this letter. You promised to obey me implicitly.out of the apartment. If you go accompanied by any other person. Remember your oath.” The young girl uttered a joyful cry. sir. take from the corner of the mantelpiece a purse netted in red silk.

through a singular impulse. “to-day is the 5th of September. it was neither to her mother nor her brother that she applied.” 357 . but his desire to make Julie decide immediately made him reply. “Go there?” murmured Julie. that it is usually unknown perils that inspire the greatest terror. “it is your opinion that I should obey this invitation?” “Yes. Emmanuel hesitated a moment.” replied the young man. “I will await you at the corner of the Rue de Musee. “You must go. and if you are so long absent as to make me uneasy. mademoiselle. related the scene on the staircase. “Yes.” said Emmanuel.be observed. “And you shall be alone. is it not?” “Yes. Emmanuel?” she asked. Emmanuel?” said the young girl with hesitation. then. I will accompany you. but to Emmanuel. and woe to him of whom you shall have cause to complain to me!” “Then. “Listen. and showed him the letter. She hastened down and told him what had occurred on the day when the agent of Thomson & French had come to her father’s. I will hasten to rejoin you. Did not the messenger say your father’s safety depended upon it?” “But what danger threatens him. Julie hesitated. then. repeated the promise she had made. and resolved to take counsel. Yet.” “But did you not read that I must be alone?” said Julie.” he said.

Morrel had returned to his bed-chamber.” “Well. we know that. “what are you going to do with that brace of pistols under your coat?” “Oh. M. then. rushing hastily out of the apartment. if to-day before eleven o’clock your father has not found someone who will come to his aid. Maximilian sprang down the staircase. of whose arrival he was ignorant. come!” cried she. He was thunderstruck. hastening away with the young man. which he was only this moment quitting. expecting to find his father in his study. During this time. he ran up-stairs. turning pale as death. He remained motionless on the spot.” he exclaimed. this is what I feared!” said Morrel. Morrel uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of his son. your father has nearly three hundred thousand francs to pay?” “Yes. but he did not know that matters had reached such a point. pressing with his left hand something he had concealed under his coat. he will be compelled at twelve o’clock to declare himself a bankrupt. “we have not fifteen thousand francs in the house. but suddenly he recoiled. turned. and threw his arms round his father’s neck.” “Oh. and saw his father. but he rapped there in vain. at eleven o’clock. Madame Morrel had told her son everything. great changes had taken place in the style of living and housekeeping.“To-day.” “What will happen then?” “Why. then. Then. come. after the succession of misfortunes which had befallen his father.” continued Emmanuel. Instead of going direct to his study. While he was yet at the door of the study he heard the bedroom door open. The young man knew quite well that. then. and placed his right hand on Morrel’s breast. 358 . “Father.

The young man was overwhelmed as he read. looking fixedly at his son.” replied Morrel.500 francs. father. “our name is dishonored!” “Blood washes out dishonor.“Father. he said. “You have no money coming in on which you can rely?” “None. “I have. What could he say? What need he add to such a desperate proof in figures? “And have you done all that is possible. “you are a man. and I will explain to you.” “And in half an hour. “You are right. to meet this disastrous result?” asked the young man.” Then extending his hand towards one of the pistols. father.” “You have exhausted every resource?” “All. while Maximilian followed him. father. and closed it behind his son. went to his desk on which he placed the pistols. 287. Morrel opened the door. trembling as he went. Morrel had to pay. In this ledger was made out an exact balance-sheet of his affair’s. “There is one for you and one for me – thanks!” Morrel caught his hand. crossing the anteroom.” And with a firm step Morrel went up to his study. within half an hour. in heaven’s name. All he possessed was 15. then. Come. after a moment’s pause. and a man of honor. I understand you. “Read!” said Morrel.257 francs.” exclaimed the young man.” said Morrel. Morrel said not a word.” said Maximilian in a gloomy voice.” replied Morrel. “Your mother – your sister! Who will 359 . “what are these weapons for?” “Maximilian. and pointed with his finger to an open ledger.

father. my son. “Be it so.” said the young man. you are the most honorable man I have ever known. “I know. live. then an expression of sublime resignation appeared in his eyes. “die in peace. “Father. “do you reflect that you are bidding me to live?” “Yes. and with a slow and sad gesture he took off his two epaulets. strong mind. To you. yourself. providence may build up again. perhaps.” said Morrel. Then do your best to keep our name free from dishonor. Go to work. “Oh. how grand. my father. the insignia of his rank. I do so bid you. And now there is no more to be said. “bless me!” Morrel took the head of his son between his two hands. they will accord the time they have refused to me. you are no ordinary man. and kissing his forehead several times said. Reflect how glorious a day it will be. go and rejoin your mother and sister. I only ask you to examine my position as if it were your own.” he said.” he said. the most inexorable will have pity on you. Maximilian. but Maximilian caught him in his arms.” “My father. who say through me. extending his hand to Morrel. and then judge for yourself.” “Good. yes. that day of complete restoration. your mother and sister. bending his knee. yes. and those two noble hearts were pressed against each other for a moment. young man. “You know it is not my fault. drew him forward. ‘My father died because he could not do 360 . I bless you in my own name. I will live.” answered Morrel. “it is your duty. You have a calm. I make no requests or commands.” The young man reflected for a moment. on which you will say in this very office. how solemn. with the most rigid economy. Maximilian. then. so that from day to day the property of those whom I leave in your hands may augment and fructify.support them?” A shudder ran through the young man’s frame.’ On seeing me die such a death. and in the name of three generations of irreproachable men. ‘The edifice which misfortune has destroyed.” Morrel was about to cast himself on his knees before his son. labor. struggle ardently and courageously. Maximilian smiled. my father.

“why should you not live?” “If I live. but offered 361 . Its agent.” “Will you not see my sister once more?” asked Maximilian. if I live. on the contrary. you may raise your head and say.” “Have you no particular commands to leave with me. and a sacred command. because. Living. my son. my father?” inquired Maximilian in a faltering voice. my best friends would avoid my house. If. I will not say granted. but appeared resigned. Maximilian.’“ The young man uttered a groan. and bade her adieu.” said Morrel. he has been compelled to break his word. ‘I am the son of him you killed. from humanity. because in dying he knew what I should do. A last but final hope was concealed by the young man in the effect of this interview. my corpse is that of an honest but unfortunate man. who will in ten minutes present himself to receive the amount of a bill of 287. and therefore he had suggested it. remember. I die. Living. dead. my father!” cried the young man. “Yes. if I live I am only a man who his broken his word. selfishness – it is not for me to read men’s hearts – has had any pity for me.500 francs. failed in his engagements – in fact. my father. Morrel shook his head. only a bankrupt. “I saw her this morning. interest would be converted into doubt. all would be changed.what I have this day done. all Marseilles will follow me in tears to my last home.” “Say it. and endeavor to keep your mother and sister away. it may be. or. but he died calmly and peaceably. you would feel shame at my name. for the first time. pity into hostility.” “The house of Thomson & French is the only one who. “leave me alone. dead. “And now.’“ “My father.

When the gentleman who came three months ago – the agent of Thomson & French – arrives.” The young man remained standing and motionless. and respect this man. I would be alone.me three months. After a moment’s interval. having but the force of will and not the power of execution. yes. father. my father. The hand moved on with incredible rapidity. It was no longer the same man – the fearful revelations of the three last days had crushed him. “do you remain in the ante-chamber. “My worthy Cocles. as you said just now. “Be it so. and you knew I must be killed in the assault.” And he rushed out of the study. This thought – the house of Morrel is about to stop payment – bent him to the earth more than twenty years would otherwise have done.” said Maximilian. ‘Go. Morrel fell back in his chair. Maximilian. once more. leave me.” Cocles made no reply. my son. “yes. there were seven minutes left.” said Morrel.” and once again embracing his father with convulsive pressure.” said his father. “And now. and seated himself. You will find my will in the secretary in my bedroom. 362 . When his son had left him. announce his arrival to me. he pulled the bell. “Go. then putting forth his arm. Morrel remained an instant standing with his eyes fixed on the door. his eyes fixed on the clock. went into the anteroom. he seemed to see its motion. for you are dishonored by delay. “Hear me.” “Father. he said. I will. “Suppose I was a soldier like you.” said the young man.” said Morrel in a tone impossible to describe. Cocles appeared. he made a sign with his head. that was all. Let this house be the first repaid. adieu. and death is preferable to shame!’“ “Yes. and ordered to carry a certain redoubt. would you not say to me.

” He placed the muzzle of the pistol between his teeth. and at the other was a diamond as large as a hazel-nut. “what do you mean?” “Yes. 363 . “The agent of Thomson & French. netted silk purse. and half dead with joy – “saved.000 francs. and started as he did so. that he must separate himself from all he held dear in the world. even life itself. Suddenly he heard a cry – it was his daughter’s voice. At one end was the receipted bill for the 287. you are saved!” And she threw herself into his arms. took one up.What passed in the mind of this man at the supreme moment of his agony cannot be told in words. He turned and saw Julie. Morrel took the purse. holding in her extended hand a red. Morrel did not turn round – he expected these words of Cocles. illogical perhaps. with these words on a small slip of parchment: – Julie’s Dowry. he stretched forth his hand. counting time now not by minutes. The pistols were loaded. and murmured his daughter’s name. out of breath. At this moment of mortal anguish the cold sweat came forth upon his brow. He took up the deadly weapon again. and then shuddered at the click of the trigger as he cocked the pistol. one must have seen his face with its expression of enforced resignation and its tear-moistened eyes raised to heaven. but he had convinced himself by a course of reasoning. To form the slightest idea of his feelings. The minute hand moved on. The pistol fell from his hands. his lips parted and his eyes fixed on the clock. Then he laid it down seized his pen. He was still comparatively young. for a vague remembrance reminded him that it once belonged to himself. a pang stronger than death clutched at his heart-strings. but by seconds. my child!” said Morrel. “Saved. and wrote a few words. He heard the door of the staircase creak on its hinges – the clock gave its warning to strike eleven – the door of his study opened. he was surrounded by the loving care of a devoted family. saved – saved! See. see!” said the young girl. Then he turned again to the clock. It seemed to him as if he had not taken a sufficient farewell of his beloved daughter. yet certainly plausible. “My father!” cried the young girl.

on the corner of a mantelpiece in a small room on the fifth floor. impossible!” 364 .” said Morrel. “explain – where did you find this purse?” “In a house in the Allees de Meillan. “Explain. his strength was failing him.” “Monsieur Morrel!” exclaimed a voice on the stairs. strange to say. “Emmanuel accompanied me. “The Pharaon!” he cried. and they say she is now coming into port.” “The Pharaon. after he had read it. unheard-of. father. it seemed to him a dream. “this purse is not yours!” Julie handed to her father the letter she had received in the morning. his understanding weakened by such events. refused to comprehend such incredible. my child. fabulous facts.” he said. “how could you say the Pharaon was lost? The lookout has signalled her.” “My dear friends. it must be a miracle of heaven! Impossible. sir – they signal the Pharaon! The Pharaon is entering the harbor!” Morrel fell back in his chair. he was not there when I returned. He felt as if each stroke of the hammer fell upon his heart.” he said. At this moment Emmanuel entered. – “Monsieur Morrel!” “It is his voice!” said Julie. He was to have waited for me at the corner of the Rue de Musee. “the Pharaon!” “What – what – the Pharaon! Are you mad. his countenance full of animation and joy. “Father. my child. “if this be so. “Explain.” cried Maximilian. But his son came in. 15. but.” “But.Morrel passed his hand over his brow. No. Emmanuel? You know the vessel is lost. At this moment the clock struck eleven.” cried Morrel. “And did you go alone?” asked Morrel.

and good old Penelon making signals to M. descended one of the flights of steps provided for debarkation. To doubt any longer was impossible. and on the stairs met Madame Morrel. and heaven have pity upon us if it be false intelligence!” They all went out.” said the unknown. and hailing three times. Jacopo. “Ah. with his face half-covered by a black beard. concealed behind the sentry-box. sir. there was the evidence of the senses. Morrel & Son.” She was the exact duplicate of the other Pharaon. “what can it mean? – the Pharaon?” “Come. and on the deck was Captain Gaumard giving orders.” And with a smile expressive of supreme content. who had been afraid to go up into the study. of Marseilles. in front of the tower of Saint-Jean. who. and ten thousand persons who came to corroborate the testimony. rising from his seat. a man. She cast anchor. on whose deck he sprung with the activity of a sailor. thence he once again looked towards Morrel.But what was real and not less incredible was the purse he held in his hand. printed in white letters. and without being observed. “The Pharaon. shouted “Jacopo. Morrel. and conveyed him to a yacht splendidly fitted up. the acceptance receipted – the splendid diamond. “let us go and see.” exclaimed Cocles. “The Pharaon. was a ship bearing on her stern these words. watched the scene with delight. uttered these words in a low tone: “Be happy. In a moment they were at the Cannebiere. took him on board.” said Morrel. and thanking with a look the unknown benefactor whom he seemed to be seeking in the skies. wonderful to see. and loaded. weeping with joy. the Pharaon!” said every voice. 365 . noble heart. And. be blessed for all the good thou hast done and wilt do hereafter. As Morrel and his son embraced on the pier-head. he left his hiding-place. and who. All the crowd gave way before Morrel. and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like your good deeds. with cochineal and indigo. as that had been. Jacopo!” Then a launch came to shore. was shaking hands most cordially with all the crowd around him. in the presence and amid the applause of the whole city witnessing this event. dear ones. “And now. clued up sails. There was a crowd on the pier.

the yacht instantly put out to sea. and gratitude! Farewell to all the feelings that expand the heart! I have been heaven’s substitute to recompense the good – now the god of vengeance yields to me his power to punish the wicked!” At these words he gave a signal. as if only awaiting this signal. and. 366 . humanity.“farewell kindness.

the proprietor of the Hotel de Londres. like every unsuccessful sportsman. should act as cicerone to Albert. they wrote to Signor Pastrini. after having followed the traces which the footsteps of the giant have left. the cradle of Bonaparte) to visit Elba. “you might have capital sport. the waiting-place of Napoleon. or the Campo Vaccino. Two hours after he again landed at Pianosa. Albert started for Naples. he took a fancy into his head (having already visited Corsica. One evening he cast off the painter of a sailboat from the iron ring that secured it to the dock at Leghorn. Franz only succeeded in killing a few partridges. He traversed the island. to reserve comfortable apartments for them.” “Where?” 367 . and re-embarked for Marciana. As it is no inconsiderable affair to spend the Carnival at Rome. wrapped himself in his coat and lay down.” said the captain.Chapter 31: Italy: Sinbad the Sailor. two young men belonging to the first society of Paris. The sport was bad. he returned to the boat very much out of temper. and spending two or three evenings at the houses of the Florentine nobility. where he was assured that red partridges abounded. the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf and the Baron Franz d’Epinay. and after having passed a few days in exploring the paradise of the Cascine. if your excellency chose. Towards the beginning of the year 1838. and. They had agreed to see the Carnival at Rome that year. and that Franz. Piazza di Spagna. he remained at Florence. but wishing to make the best use of the time that was left. were at Florence. “Ah. – “To the Island of Elba!” The boat shot out of the harbor like a bird and the next morning Franz disembarked at PortoFerrajo. who for the last three or four years had inhabited Italy. Signor Pastrini replied that he had only two rooms and a parlor on the third floor. As for Franz. especially when you have no great desire to sleep on the Piazza del Popolo. which he offered at the low charge of a louis per diem. They accepted his offer. and said to the crew.

if your excellency pleases. besides. for the island is uninhabited. what is this island?” “The Island of Monte Cristo.” “It is very natural.” “But I have no permission to shoot over this island. or on board in your cloak. but by browsing the shrubs and trees that grow out of the crevices of the rocks.” “Who live upon the stones. I suppose. “No. “A desert island in the midst of the Mediterranean must be a curiosity. “Well. and does not contain an acre of land capable of cultivation.” 368 .“Do you see that island?” continued the captain.” “Where can I sleep?” “On shore in the grottos.” “To whom does this island belong?” “To Tuscany. this island is a mass of rocks.” “Your excellency does not require a permit. and if the wind drops we can use our oars.” said Franz with an incredulous smile. pointing to a conical pile rising from the indigo sea.” “Ah. we can leave as soon as you like – we can sail as well by night as by day.” “What game shall I find there!” “Thousands of wild goats. indeed!” said the young man.

” “What do you mean?” “Monte Cristo although uninhabited. nor I. “you tell me Monte Cristo serves as a refuge for pirates. and when the sail was filled. yet serves occasionally as a refuge for the smugglers and pirates who come from Corsica. he accepted the proposition.” replied the captain. your excellency. “Well. I shall not. and Africa. that’s as long as the Almighty took to make the world! Too long a wait – too long. and his apartments at Rome were not yet available.” chorused the sailors.” asked he.” 369 .As Franz had sufficient time.” said he to the captain.” The captain gave his orders. and the four sailors had taken their places – three forward. Sardinia. Six days! Why. “Gaetano. the sailors exchanged a few words together in a low tone. and one at the helm – he resumed the conversation.” cried Franz. a very different kind of game from the goats.” “Yes.” “But who will say your excellency has been to Monte Cristo?” “Oh. “what now? Is there any difficulty in the way?” “No. the helm was put up. “but we must warn your excellency that the island is an infected port. and if it becomes known that we have been there. it seems to me. Upon his answer in the affirmative. “Nor I. and it is true. Franz waited until all was in order. “Then steer for Monte Cristo. who are. and the boat was soon sailing in the direction of the island. we shall have to perform quarantine for six days on our return to Leghorn.” “The deuce! That puts a different face on the matter.

First one gun’l goes under. they transfer from the vessel to their own boat whatever they think worth taking. then the other. it has struck on a rock and foundered. there are pirates. All at once there’s a noise like a cannon – that’s the air 370 . pirates existed only in the romances of Cooper and Captain Marryat. or Tuscan governments?” “Why?” said Gaetano with a smile. doubtless.“I knew there were smugglers. and then they leave her. why?” “Because. if. who have surprised and plundered it. and who yet. but I thought that since the capture of Algiers. or an English yacht that was expected at Bastia. as bandits plunder a carriage in the recesses of a forest. like us. in the first place. a large hole is chopped in the vessel’s bottom. then they bind the crew hand and foot. that a little merchant vessel. and the destruction of the regency. has not arrived. then. Now this rock it has met has been a long and narrow boat. near some desert and gloomy island. your excellency lived at Leghorn. some dark and stormy night. “Yes. you would hear. Has not your excellency heard that the French charge d’affaires was robbed six months ago within five hundred paces of Velletri?” “Oh. they attach to every one’s neck a four and twenty pound ball.” “Well. from time to time. or at Civita Vecchia. Then they lift and sink again. like the bandits who were believed to have been exterminated by Pope Leo XII. “why do not those who have been plundered complain to the French. every day.. manned by six or eight men. I heard that. and both go under at once.” “Your excellency is mistaken. Sardinian. but. no one knows what has become of it. yes. who lay wrapped in his cloak at the bottom of the boat. rob travellers at the gates of Rome. At the end of ten minutes the vessel begins to roll heavily and settle down.” “But. at Porto-Ferrajo.” asked Franz.

spins round and round. and your conversation is most interesting. and on which a few fishing-boats. that’s all. “I have travelled through Sicily and Calabria – I have sailed two months in the Archipelago. As they drew near the island seemed to lift from the sea. with green bushes and trees growing in the crevices. so that in five minutes nothing but the eye of God can see the vessel where she lies at the bottom of the sea. combat it with the most unalterable coolness.” said the captain. and they were rapidly reaching the end of their voyage. He was one of those men who do not rashly court danger.blowing up the deck.” The wind blew strongly. Franz would have hesitated. were alone visible. As for the sailors. retreated. and won victory at a single thrust.” replied Gaetano. Calm and resolute. and why the vessel never reaches port?” It is probable that if Gaetano had related this previous to proposing the expedition. whose mountains 371 . and then all is over. and that they carefully watched the glassy surface over which they were sailing. although they appeared perfectly tranquil yet it was evident that they were on the alert.” “I did not tell your excellency this to deter you from your project. – calculated its probable method of approach. Do you understand now. forming a vast whirlpool in the ocean. was quick to see an opening for attack. he treated any peril as he would an adversary in a duel. with their white sails. Soon the water rushes out of the scupper-holes like a whale spouting. he thought it would be cowardly to draw back. but if danger presents itself. “Bah!” said he.” “Yes. They were within fifteen miles of Monte Cristo when the sun began to set behind Corsica. the vessel gives a last groan. “why no complaints are made to the government. and the air was so clear that they could already distinguish the rocks heaped on one another. “but you questioned me. and I have answered. steer for Monte Cristo. if at all. and disappears. as a point of strategy and not from cowardice. and as I wish to enjoy it as long as possible. the boat made six or seven knots an hour. like cannon balls in an arsenal. and yet I never saw even the shadow of a bandit or a pirate. but now that they had started.

like the fiery crest of a volcano. at last the reflection rested on the summit of the mountain. as you see. Little by little the shadow rose higher and seemed to drive before it the last rays of the expiring day. half an hour after.” “But you told me the island was uninhabited?” “I said there were no fixed habitations on it. the mariners were used to these latitudes. “it is a fire. like the giant Adamastor. where it paused an instant. for.” 372 . for in the midst of this obscurity Franz was not without uneasiness – Corsica had long since disappeared. a formidable barrier. and the pilot who steered did not evince the slightest hesitation. and intercepting the light that gilded its massive peaks so that the voyagers were in shadow.appeared against the sky. land might resemble a cloud. “Hush!” said the captain. rose dead ahead. the night was quite dark. at a quarter of a mile to the left. to see in the dark. this mass of rock. showing their rugged peaks in bold relief.” returned Gaetano. but the fire was not a meteor. then gloom gradually covered the summit as it had covered the base. when Franz fancied he saw. he remained silent. a dark mass. but I said also that it served sometimes as a harbor for smugglers. but he could not precisely make out what it was. and the island now only appeared to be a gray mountain that grew continually darker. and fearing to excite the mirth of the sailors by mistaking a floating cloud for land. and knew every rock in the Tuscan Archipelago. like the lynx. the fire is behind us. “It is for that reason I have given orders to pass the island. and Monte Cristo itself was invisible. suddenly a great light appeared on the strand. repeating Franz’s words. Fortunately. “What is this light?” asked he.” “And for pirates?” “And for pirates. but the sailors seemed. An hour had passed since the sun had set.

As for Franz. hidden by an elevation of the land. he could only be traced by the phosphorescent line in his wake. so he had no shoes and stockings to take off. he had two double-barrelled guns and a rifle. then. and in a few minutes the fire disappeared. Every one on 373 . and the boat came to rest. and from the moment that their course was changed not a word was spoken. swam towards the shore with such precaution that it was impossible to hear the slightest sound. and was soon within fifty paces of it. This track soon disappeared. and after five minutes’ discussion a manoeuvre was executed which caused the vessel to tack about. and lowering himself noiselessly into the sea. it was evident that he had touched the shore. Gaetano lowered the sail. his feet were naked. they returned the way they had come. Gaetano. thanks to the darkness. that goes for nothing. looked at the priming. the four sailors fixed their eyes on him.” returned Gaetano. “It seems to me rather reassuring than otherwise. The pilot again changed the course of the boat. During this time the captain had thrown off his vest and shirt. All this was done in silence. but only from the sea. this fire indicates the presence of unpleasant neighbors?” “That is what we must find out. which. you will see that the fire cannot be seen from the side or from Pianosa. “How can you find out?” “You shall see.“But this fire?” continued Franz.” said Gaetano.” Gaetano consulted with his companions. who had proposed the expedition. and waited quietly. he loaded them. which rapidly approached the island. fixing his eyes on this terrestrial star.” “Oh. while they got out their oars and held themselves in readiness to row away. he examined his arms with the utmost coolness. had taken all the responsibility on himself. men who did not wish to be seen would not light a fire. after these preparations he placed his finger on his lips. “If you can guess the position of the island in the darkness.” “You think. and secured his trousers round his waist. would not be difficult.

you can’t refuse help to a poor hunted devil. we sailors are like freemasons. “they have with them two Corsican bandits.” returned the other.” returned the captain with an accent of the most profound pity. and saves the life.” “And do you think we have nothing to fear if we land?” “Nothing at all. calculating the chances of peril. “Well?” exclaimed Franz and the sailors in unison. we receive them. yes. we must live somehow. 374 .” “But these two Corsican bandits?” said Franz. well. “we ought always to help one another. smugglers are not thieves. smiling impenetrably.board remained motionless for half an hour.” said he. Very often the bandits are hard pressed by gendarmes or carbineers. of a fellow-creature.” “And what are these Corsican bandits doing here with Spanish smugglers?” “Alas. Gaetano?” “Your excellency. and the swimmer was soon on board. “They are Spanish smugglers. they come and demand hospitality of us. they see a vessel.” “Ah!” said Franz. when the same luminous track was again observed. who on the first occasion returns the service by pointing out some safe spot where we can land our goods without interruption. This costs us nothing. “then you are a smuggler occasionally. and good fellows like us on board. or at least the liberty. and recognize each other by signs. and for greater security we stand out to sea. “Then you know the men who are now on Monte Cristo?” “Oh.

“Well. and the two bandits make six.” “How so?” “Because they are pursued for having made a stiff.” said the young man.” “How many are they?” “Four. viewed his position in its true light.” “What do you mean by having made a stiff? – having assassinated a man?” said Franz.” “Just our number. be as wise as Nestor and as prudent as Ulysses. steer to Monte Cristo. as if it was not in a Corsican’s nature to revenge himself. then!” said Gaetano. Every one obeyed. we shall be able to hold them in check. continuing his investigation. He was alone in the darkness with sailors whom he did not know.” “Yes. at 375 . it was a grave one. who knew that he had several thousand francs in his belt. Do you think they will grant it?” “Without doubt. so.” “Silence. I do more than permit. for the last time. I exhort you. which is a very different thing. like Franz.“It is not their fault that they are bandits. but your excellency will permit us to take all due precautions. – which were very beautiful. – if not with envy. and who had no reason to be devoted to him. but that of the authorities. so that if they prove troublesome.” “By all means.” returned the captain. and who had often examined his weapons. “let us demand hospitality of these smugglers and bandits. “I mean that they have killed an enemy. For a man who.

but which evidently concerned him. The sailors had again hoisted sail. Franz with his disembarkment.least with curiosity. who carried a carbine. indeed. their eyes fixed on the boat. then. when they were opposite the fire. seemed very probable at night. carefully keeping the boat in the shadow. evidently seeking to know who the new-comers were and what were their intentions. and about it five or six persons seated. the smugglers with their goat. which had appeared improbable during the day. They soon appeared satisfied and returned (with the exception of one. On the other hand. and cried. he steered to the centre of the circle. of which his companions sung the chorus. could see the looming shore along which the boat was sailing. Franz coolly cocked both barrels. When the boat was within twenty paces of the shore. whose eyes were now more accustomed to it. the sailors with their sails. presented arms after the manner of a sentinel. but in the midst of all this carelessness it was evident that they mutually observed each other. At the first words of the song the men seated round the fire arose and approached the landing-place. – merely say I am a Frenchman travelling for pleasure. The history of the scuttled vessels. “Will your excellency give your name. and then.” As soon as Gaetano had transmitted this answer. the sentinel gave an order to one of the men seated round the fire. The blaze illumined the sea for a hundred paces around. The man who had 376 . or remain incognito?” asked the captain. “My name must rest unknown. every one seemed occupied. who remained at the shore) to their fire. Not a word was spoken. Through the darkness Franz. Gaetano skirted the light. thanks to the smugglers and bandits. Gaetano then exchanged a few words with this man which the traveller did not understand. without any other escort than these men. and the vessel was once more cleaving the waves. on an island which had. singing a fishing song. he was about to land. placed as he was between two possible sources of danger. he kept his eye on the crew. the man on the beach. but which did not seem to Franz likely to afford him much hospitality. at which the carcass of a goat was roasting. he saw the fire more brilliant than ever. “Who comes there?” in Sardinian. and his gun in his hand. as they rounded a rocky point. who rose and disappeared among the rocks. a very religious name.

and. and saw by the mass of cinders that had accumulated that he was not the first to discover this retreat. but. not unlike sentryboxes. and then stopped at a small esplanade surrounded with rocks. his anxiety had quite disappeared. “go and try. once that he had seen the indifferent. Gaetano had the other. if not friendly. then his comrades disembarked. four strokes of the oar brought them to land. enter. which was. and advanced to the opposite side. Franz lowered a torch. it means at once. the spot they chose did not suit the smuggler who filled the post of sentinel. Around in the crevices of the rocks grew a few dwarf oaks and thick bushes of myrtles. “Besides. “if the smell of their roast meat tempts you. He mentioned this to Gaetano. in which seats had been cut.” added he. wine. half artist. The sailors did not wait for a second invitation.” The Italian s’accommodi is untranslatable. who. or rather. Gaetano sprang to shore. did not excite any suspicion. The boat was moored to the shore. while two sailors kindled torches at the fire to light them on their way. doubtless. “Come. exchanged a few words with the sentinel.” Gaetano faltered an excuse. you are the master. “Not that way. and lastly came Franz. As for his suspicions. They advanced about thirty paces. had turned to appetite.” It is like that Turkish phrase of Moliere’s that so astonished the bourgeois gentleman by the number of things implied in its utterance. and a sailor held his rifle.” “You are a born diplomat. bread. make yourself at home. One of his guns was swung over his shoulder. once on terra firma. appearance of his hosts.” returned Franz.” 377 . I will go and offer them two of our birds for a slice. and a good fire to roast them by. “S’accommodi. his dress. turning to the boat. one of the halting-places of the wandering visitors of Monte Cristo. said. half a dozen partridges. and they advanced a few paces to find a comfortable bivouac. no disquietude. at sight of the goat. you are welcome. who replied that nothing could be more easy than to prepare a supper when they had in their boat. if you please. he made a sign with his head to the sentinel. for he cried out. half dandy. doubtless.disappeared returned suddenly on the opposite side to that by which he had left. consequently.

” observed Franz.” “His house? Has he built one here.” replied he.” returned Gaetano.” “The deuce! – and what is this condition?” “That you are blindfolded.” said Franz. for supper. “Ah. and rather a peculiar one. “Well. if possible. “this chief is very polite.” Franz looked at Gaetano.” “You know this chief. inhaling the aroma of the roasted meat. and I see no objection – the more so as I bring my share of the supper.” “What should you do in my place?” 378 .” “Well. he has plenty. so they say. then?” “I have heard talk of him. what he thought of this proposal. invites you to sup with him. and to spare. when the captain returned with a mysterious air. who was told you were a young Frenchman.Meanwhile the sailors had collected dried sticks and branches with which they made a fire. to see. “anything new? – do they refuse?” “On the contrary. then?” “No. “the chief. it is not that. guessing Franz’s thought. before he will receive you at his house. “I know this is a serious matter. but he has a very comfortable one all the same.” “Favorably or otherwise?” “Both. and do not take off the bandage until he himself bids you. Franz waited impatiently.” “Oh. but he makes one condition.

“It is no nonsense. went in once.” said Gaetano. lowering his voice. Franz was prudent. 379 . it is quite true. during this dialogue.” “Do you know. who have nothing to lose. vowing that such treasures were only to be heard of in fairy tales.“I. “I do not know if what they say is true” – he stopped to see if any one was near.” “What nonsense!” said Franz. and seeing only the prospect of a good supper. Gaetano departed with the reply. your excellency will do as you please. had sat gravely plucking the partridges with the air of a man proud of his office. I should be sorry to advise you in the matter.” “You would accept?” “Yes. and asked him how these men had landed. He turned towards the sailor. I don’t say that. – I should go.” observed Franz. the pilot of the Saint Ferdinand.” “Then you advise me to accept?” “Oh. as no vessel of any kind was visible. concluded that a man so rich could not have any intention of plundering him of what little he had. who. were it only out of curiosity.” “There is something very peculiar about this chief. accepted. Cama. “that with such stories you make me think of Ali Baba’s enchanted cavern?” “I tell you what I have been told.” Franz pondered the matter for a few moments. and he came back amazed. reseating himself. and wished to learn all he possibly could concerning his host. “What do they say?” “That this chief inhabits a cavern to which the Pitti Palace is nothing. then?” “Listen.

” “And if this person be not a smuggler.” replied the sailor. “I know their vessel.” continued Franz.” “Where was she built?” “I know not.” “What is his name?” “If you ask him he says Sinbad the Sailor. “venture to build a vessel designed for such a purpose at Genoa?” “I did not say that the owner was a smuggler.” returned the sailor. but I doubt if it be his real name. but she is built to stand any weather. but Gaetano did. who is he?” “A wealthy signor. “he is still more mysterious. he had not then spoken to any one.” “Of what burden is she?” “About a hundred tons.” “Is it a very beautiful vessel?” “I would not wish for a better to sail round the world. who travels for his pleasure.” “Come.” 380 .” thought Franz. since the two accounts do not agree.” “Gaetano had only seen the vessel from a distance.” “And how did a leader of smugglers. I thought. “No. but my own opinion is she is a Genoese.“Never mind that. She is what the English call a yacht.

but always in vain. Franz drew his handkerchief from his pocket.” “His excellency waits for you. “this is an Arabian Nights’ adventure. Without uttering a word.” “Have you ever seen him?” “Sometimes. but a magic word.” said a voice. He was accompanied by two of the yacht’s crew.” “What sort of a man is he?” “Your excellency will judge for yourself. when you have landed and found this island deserted.” “What country does he come from?” “I do not know. they bandaged his eyes with a care that showed their apprehensions of his committing some indiscretion. Afterwards he was made to promise that he would not make the least 381 .” “Have you never had the curiosity.” “Where will he receive me?” “No doubt in the subterranean palace Gaetano told you of. more than once. but we never could find the slightest trace of any opening. which he recognized as that of the sentinel.“Sinbad the Sailor?” “Yes.” “Decidedly. yes. they say that the door is not opened by a key. and presented it to the man who had spoken to him.” muttered Franz. we examined the grotto all over.” “And where does he reside?” “On the sea. to seek for this enchanted palace?” “Oh.

with a foreign accent. were set off to admiration by the black mustache that encircled them. and who was incapable of resuming the healthy glow and hue of life. by a change in the atmosphere. But what astonished Franz. Then his two guides took his arms. this man had a remarkably handsome face. like the men of the south. they then led him on about fifty paces farther. and then a voice.” It may be supposed. but took off the handkerchief. dressed in a Tunisian costume – that is to say. he had a splendid cashmere round his waist. and projecting direct from the brow. who had treated Gaetano’s description as a fable. evidently advancing towards that part of the shore where they would not allow Gaetano to go – a refusal he could now comprehend. then. that it seemed to pertain to one who had been long entombed.attempt to raise the bandage. surmounted with a stand of Arabian swords in silver scabbards. Although of a paleness that was almost livid. embroidered with gold like the vest. and. a red cap with a long blue silk tassel. sir. and 382 . and preceded by the sentinel. Presently. he knew that they were entering a cave. in excellent French. worked with flowers of gold. after going on for a few seconds more he heard a crackling. was of the pure Greek type. his eyes were penetrating and sparkling. said. as white as pearls. although. and became balmy and perfumed. and he went on. His pallor was so peculiar. while his teeth. and it seemed to him as though the atmosphere again changed. and his guides let go their hold of him. large and full gaiters of the same color. and found himself in the presence of a man from thirty-eight to forty years of age. he smelt the appetizing odor of the kid that was roasting. quite straight. At length his feet touched on a thick and soft carpet. In a recess was a kind of divan. After going about thirty paces. guided by them. pantaloons of deep red. He promised. “Welcome. his nose. and yellow slippers. had small hands and feet. He was not particularly tall. The entire chamber was lined with crimson brocade. was the splendor of the apartment in which he found himself. a vest of black cloth embroidered with gold. There was a moment’s silence. but extremely well made. Franz did not wait for a repetition of this permission. and a small sharp and crooked cangiar was passed through his girdle. I beg you will remove your bandage. and knew thus that he was passing the bivouac.

but because I should not have the certainty I now possess of separating myself from all the rest of mankind at pleasure. “Sir. and. But such as is my hermitage. that I too much respect the laws of hospitality to ask your name or title. Let me now endeavor to make you forget this temporary unpleasantness.” said the unknown to Franz. moreover. I may say with Lucullus. if you will. black as ebony. but as. tapestry hung before the door by which Franz had entered. of beautiful shape and color. not for the loss it occasioned me. it is yours to share. after a pause. and offer you what no doubt you did not expect to find here – that is to say. and also in front of another door. this island is deserted. I would have prepared for it. if I could have anticipated the honor of your visit.’“ “Alas. for instance. but I think nothing is more annoying than to remain two or three hours together without knowing by name or appellation how to address one another. “a thousand excuses for the precaution taken in your introduction hither. I should doubtless.” replied Franz. if the secret of this abode were discovered. and a Nubian.” he said. for what I see makes me think of the wonders of the ‘Arabian Nights.” “Ma foi. Pray observe. and dressed in a plain white tunic. during the greater portion of the year. a tolerable supper and pretty comfortable beds. such as is my supper. leading into a second apartment which seemed to be brilliantly illuminated. “I do not know if you are of my opinion. find on my return my temporary retirement in a state of great disorder. not even taking his eyes off him. in which they sunk to the instep. from the ceiling hung a lamp of Venetian glass. I only request you to give me one by which I may have the 383 . those of Raoul in the ‘Huguenots. I have always observed that they bandage people’s eyes who penetrate enchanted palaces. is the supper ready?” At this moment the tapestry moved aside.the handles resplendent with gems. The host gave Franz time to recover from his surprise. returned look for look. while the feet rested on a Turkey carpet. which would be exceedingly annoying. my dear sir. Ali.’ and really I have nothing to complain of. it is at your disposal. “Now. made a sign to his master that all was prepared in the dining-room. “make no apologies.

were four magnificent statues. and the plates of Japanese china. and kissed it. there were Sicily pineapples. your humble servant going first to show the way?” At these words. Franz rubbed his eyes in order to assure himself that this was not a dream. “you heard our repast announced. that I see no reason why at this moment I should not be called Aladdin. pomegranates from Malaga. then. “will tell you. and as he has a regard for his head. peaches from France. as I only require his wonderful lamp to make me precisely like Aladdin. Signor Aladdin. The dining-room was scarcely less striking than the room he had just left. oranges from the Balearic Isles. Sinbad preceded his guest. The supper consisted of a roast pheasant garnished with Corsican blackbirds. with antique bas-reliefs of priceless value. the table was splendidly covered. that I may put you at your ease. 384 .pleasure of addressing you. and acquitted himself so admirably. that the guest complimented his host thereupon. he feels some gratitude towards me for having kept it on his shoulders. That will keep us from going away from the East whither I am tempted to think I have been conveyed by some good genius.’“ “And I. a glorious turbot. and at the four corners of this apartment. having baskets in their hands. moving aside the tapestry. Ali alone was present to wait at table. took his hand. He remembers that I saved his life.” Ali approached his master. a quarter of a kid with tartar sauce. will you now take the trouble to enter the diningroom. “Yes. and once convinced of this important point he cast his eyes around him. Franz now looked upon another scene of enchantment. As for myself.” replied the singular amphitryon.” replied Franz. The dishes were of silver. These baskets contained four pyramids of most splendid fruit. Between these large dishes were smaller ones containing various dainties. while he did the honors of the supper with much ease and grace – “yes. and does all he can to prove it. and a gigantic lobster. and dates from Tunis. a boar’s ham with jelly.” replied he. I tell you that I am generally called ‘Sinbad the Sailor. it was entirely of marble.” “Well. which was oblong. he is a poor devil who is much devoted to me.

as he replied.” he said. sir?” said Franz inquiringly. Sinbad started and looked fixedly at him. and the head the third.” said the unknown with a singular smile. He hesitated a moment. he runs down below. half-cruelty.” Although Sinbad pronounced these words with much calmness. “And like the celebrated sailor whose name you have assumed. but on condition that the poor fellow never again set foot in Tunis.” replied the host. and proposed to give him for Ali a splendid doublebarreled gun which I knew he was very desirous of having. I made a vow at a time when I little thought I should ever be able to accomplish it. “to ask you the particulars of this kindness?” “Oh. the bey yielded. “What makes you suppose so?” 385 . Signor Sinbad. and agreed to forgive the hand and head. his eyes gave forth gleams of extraordinary ferocity. “It seems the fellow had been caught wandering nearer to the harem of the Bey of Tunis than etiquette permits to one of his color. This was a useless clause in the bargain. hardly knowing what to think of the half-kindness. I went to the bey. for whenever the coward sees the first glimpse of the shores of Africa. by way of changing the conversation. so learning the day his tongue was cut out. I always had a desire to have a mute in my service. “and I made some others also which I hope I may fulfil in due season. and he was condemned by the bey to have his tongue cut out. “You have suffered a great deal.” said Franz. he was so very desirous to complete the poor devil’s punishment. with which his host related the brief narrative. the hand the second. “you pass your life in travelling?” “Yes. they are simple enough. and can only be induced to appear again when we are out of sight of that quarter of the globe.“Would it be impertinent. and his hand and head cut off. But when I added to the gun an English cutlass with which I had shivered his highness’s yataghan to pieces. the tongue the first day.” Franz remained a moment silent and pensive.

” “And will that be the first time you ever took that journey?” “Yes. and stay there. and leave it.” 386 . has a fearful account to settle with it.” responded Sinbad. Ah. persecuted by society. it will. the real life of a pasha. I am pleased with one place. Such as you see me I am. Sometimes I amuse myself by delivering some bandit or criminal from the bonds of the law. and one day perhaps I shall go to Paris to rival Monsieur Appert. which condemns or pardons. it depends on circumstances which depend on certain arrangements.” “I? – I live the happiest life possible. I must seem to you by no means curious. your pallid complexion. and would never return to the world unless you had some great project to accomplish there. “You have not guessed rightly. and even the life you lead. but I assure you that it is not my fault I have delayed it so long – it will happen one day or the other.” “Ah.“Everything. for instance!” observed Franz. laughing with his singular laugh which displayed his white and sharp teeth. my attendants obey my slightest wish. silent and sure. – “your voice. your look. and which no one sees. “you seem to me like a man who. if you had tasted my life.” “Revenge. “And why revenge?” he asked. “Because. I am king of all creation. a sort of philosopher. Then I have my mode of dispensing justice. I get tired of it. The unknown fixed on the young man one of those looks which penetrate into the depth of the heart and thoughts.” answered Franz.” “And do you propose to make this journey very shortly?” “I do not know. you would not desire any other. I am free as a bird and have wings like one. without respite or appeal.” replied Franz. and the little man in the blue cloak.

and Golconda are opened to you. without regarding it. but which was perfectly unknown to him. the fields of 387 . “we frequently pass so near to happiness without seeing. Are you a man of imagination – a poet? taste this. He raised the cover and saw a kind of greenish paste. as far as lies in my power. “this ambrosia. what may you term this composition. for the unknown scarcely touched one or two dishes of the splendid banquet to which his guest did ample justice. if I go there. for your liberal hospitality displayed to me at Monte Cristo. unfortunately.” “Well. it will be. then.” The supper appeared to have been supplied solely for Franz. Are you a man for the substantials. no doubt. I really cannot. in vulgar phrase. “You cannot guess. to tell the truth. “what there is in that small vase.” replied the host. thus it is that our material origin is revealed. He replaced the lid. as ignorant of what the cup contained as he was before he had looked at it. The care with which Ali placed this cup on the table roused Franz’s curiosity. and the boundaries of possibility disappear. yet without recognizing it. and the mines of Peru. that green preserve is nothing less than the ambrosia which Hebe served at the table of Jupiter. for which. “but.” “But. in passing through mortal hands has lost its heavenly appellation and assumed a human name. incognito.” “I should avail myself of your offer with pleasure. Then Ali brought on the dessert.” cried Sinbad. and is gold your god? taste this. something like preserved angelica. or rather took the baskets from the hands of the statues and placed them on the table. I do not feel any particular desire?” “Ah. Between the two baskets he placed a small silver cup with a silver cover. and I will endeavor to repay you. can you?” “No. Guzerat.” replied Franz. in all probability.“I should like to be there at the time you come. and then casting his eyes towards his host he saw him smile at his disappointment.” said he. or if we do see and regard it.

infinite space open to you. free in mind. but when he had finished.” cried Franz. In this valley were magnificent gardens planted by Hassen-ben-Sabah. “it is hashish! I know that – by name at least. Are you ambitious. “of the Old Man of the Mountain. and swallowed it slowly with his eyes half shut and his head bent backwards. you will be king and master of all the kingdoms of the earth. believing that the death they underwent was but a quick transition to that life of delights of which the holy herb. and obedient to his orders as to those of a deity. king of creation. which transported them to Paradise. Franz did not disturb him whilst he absorbed his favorite sweetmeat. now before you had given them a slight foretaste. or England. who attempted to assassinate Philip Augustus?” “Of course I have. What these happy persons took for reality was but a dream. says Marco Polo. struck down the designated victim. gave them to eat a certain herb. but it was a dream so soft. – “What. that they sold themselves body and soul to him who gave it to them.” 388 . and in an hour you will be a king. raised it to his lips. died in torture without a murmur. and do you seek after the greatnesses of the earth? taste this. so enthralling. he inquired. you advance free in heart. since it is only to do thus? look!” At these words he uncovered the small cup which contained the substance so lauded.” he replied. into the boundless realms of unfettered revery. without bowing at the feet of Satan. Is it not tempting what I offer you. and is it not an easy thing. Into these pavilions he admitted the elect. and there.” “Well. then. king of the universe. but king of the world. is this precious stuff?” “Did you ever hear. you know he reigned over a rich valley which was overhung by the mountain whence he derived his picturesque name.” “Then. ever-ripe fruit. and in these gardens isolated pavilions. took a teaspoonful of the magic sweetmeat. in the midst of ever-blooming shrubs. not a king of a petty kingdom hidden in some corner of Europe like France. and ever-lovely virgins. so voluptuous. Spain.

“Diable!” he said. the man to whom there should be built a palace. tea. and nothing in the world will seem to you to equal the delicacy of its flavor. then the dream becomes life. – in nature which is not made for joy and clings to pain. but to dream thus forever. you would seem to leave a Neapolitan spring for a Lapland winter – to quit paradise for earth – heaven for hell! Taste the hashish. the only man. about as much in quantity as his host had eaten. porter. after having swallowed the divine preserve.” “Judge for yourself. we must habituate the senses to a fresh impression. Signor Aladdin – judge. the first time you tasted oysters. only eat for a week. and then the dream reigns supreme. When you return to this mundane sphere from your visionary world. But what changes occur! It is only by comparing the pains of actual being with the joys of the assumed existence. the dream must succeed to reality. “I do not know if the result will be as agreeable as you describe. There is a struggle in nature against this divine substance.“That is it precisely. that you would desire to live no longer. Nature subdued must yield in the combat. guest of mine – taste the hashish. gentle or violent. ‘A grateful world to the dealer in happiness. Tell me.” Franz’s only reply was to take a teaspoonful of the marvellous preparation. it is the same with hashish. but do not confine yourself to one trial. the celebrated maker. Like everything else. and lift it to his mouth. – the hashish of Abou-Gor. and life becomes the dream. did you like them? Could you comprehend how the Romans stuffed their pheasants with assafoetida. which now appears to you 389 . truffles.’“ “Do you know. inscribed with these words. and the Chinese eat swallows’ nests? Eh? no! Well. but the thing does not appear to me as palatable as you say. it is hashish – the purest and most unadulterated hashish of Alexandria. Signor Aladdin. “I have a very great inclination to judge for myself of the truth or exaggeration of your eulogies. and sundry other dainties which you now adore.” “Because your palate his not yet been attuned to the sublimity of the substances it flavors. sad or joyous.” said Franz.

which seems to remove with its fume all the troubles of the mind. It was simply yet richly furnished. were all covered with magnificent skins as soft and downy as the richest carpets. which Ali lighted and then retired to prepare the coffee. ceiling. “it shows you have a tendency for an Oriental life. “And you are right. they are the only men who know how to live. chibouques with jasmine tubes and amber mouthpieces were within reach. “when I have completed my affairs in Paris. “in the French or Turkish style. and should you wish to see me again. panther-skins from the Cape. cool or boiling? As you please. As for me.” 390 . that we might.” said his host. and Ali will bring us coffee and pipes. sugar or none. Franz entered still another apartment. strong or weak. with one of those singular smiles which did not escape the young man.” replied Franz. like his guest. Each of them took one. It was round. Divan. and so on. Bagdad. during which Sinbad gave himself up to thoughts that seemed to occupy him incessantly. those Orientals. like those that appeared to Dante. so that it seemed like walking over the most mossy turf. even in the midst of his conversation. you must seek me at Cairo. Let us now go into the adjoining chamber. There was a moment’s silence. spotted beautifully.” They both arose. have some title by which to distinguish him – gave some orders to the servant. and to give the smoker in exchange all the visions of the soul. Both laid themselves down on the divan. and Franz abandoned himself to that mute revery. or reclining on the most luxurious bed. bear-skins from Siberia.flat and distasteful. and all prepared so that there was no need to smoke the same pipe twice. there were heavy-maned lion-skins from Atlas. and a large divan completely encircled it. walls. it is ready in all ways.” he added. into which we always sink when smoking excellent tobacco. and all these skins were strewn in profusion one on the other. or Ispahan. and while he who called himself Sinbad – and whom we have occasionally named so. striped tiger-skins from Bengal. fox-skins from Norway. floor. Ali brought in the coffee. “How do you take it?” inquired the unknown.” “I will take it in the Turkish style. Ah. I shall go and die in the East. which is your apartment.

we are here to ease your fall. as if some Loreley had decreed to attract a soul thither. His body seemed to acquire an airy lightness. fear nothing. like that which may be supposed to reign around the grotto of Circe. and fly into superhuman regions. “it would be the easiest thing in the world. but a blue. but it was not the gloomy horizon of vague alarms. inhaling the fresh and balmy air. yes. All the bodily fatigue of the day. then. transparent. He descended. as lips touch lips. like those of Icarus. when we are still sufficiently conscious to be aware of the coming of slumber. to Ali. the mute attendant. the hashish is beginning its work. who made a sign of obedience and withdrew. Well. his senses seemed to redouble their power.” He then said something in Arabic to Ali. in the midst of the songs of his sailors. As to Franz a strange transformation had taken place in him. and he saw again all he had seen before his sleep. his singular host. all the perfumes of the summer breeze. – songs so clear and sonorous.” “Ah. – he saw the Island of Monte Cristo. but without effort. then all seemed to fade away and become confused before 391 . but not to any distance. all the preoccupation of mind which the events of the evening had brought on. At length the boat touched the shore. and which he had seen before he slept. from Sinbad. or Amphion. without shock.“Ma foi. several steps. unfurl your wings.” said Franz. all the spangles of the sun. but as an oasis in the desert. and with those wings I could make a tour of the world in four and twenty hours. the horizon continued to expand. melt before the sun. for I feel eagle’s wings springing out at my shoulders. unbounded horizon. his perception brightened in a remarkable manner. with all the blue of the ocean. then. and he entered the grotto amidst continued strains of most delicious melody. disappeared as they do at the first approach of sleep. that they would have made a divine harmony had their notes been taken down. as his boat drew nearer. or rather seemed to descend. the enchanter. and if your wings. for an enchanting and mysterious harmony rose to heaven. the songs became louder. no longer as a threatening rock in the midst of the waves. there is a watch over you. intended there to build a city. and such fires as burn the very senses. formed from such perfumes as set the mind a dreaming.

and he was again in the chamber of statues. The more he strove against this unhallowed passion the more his senses yielded to its thrall. weary of a struggle that taxed his very soul. Then among them glided like a pure ray. in attraction. rich in form. with eyes of fascination. 392 . Lips of stone turned to flame. and then he gave way before looks that held him in a torturing grasp and delighted his senses as with a voluptuous kiss. They were Phryne. smiles of love. and poesy. those three celebrated courtesans. and assuming attitudes which the gods could not resist. love was a sorrow and voluptuousness a torture. those soft visions. lighted only by one of those pale and antique lamps which watch in the dead of the night over the sleep of pleasure. and then followed a dream of passion like that promised by the Prophet to the elect. Cleopatra.his eyes. and at length. like a Christian angel in the midst of Olympus. but which saints withstood. like the last shadows of the magic lantern before it is extinguished. and in a last look about him saw the vision of modesty completely veiled. and looks inflexible and ardent like those with which the serpent charms the bird. yielding for the first time to the sway of the drug. They were the same statues. he gave way and sank back breathless and exhausted beneath the kisses of these marble goddesses. so that to Franz. as burning mouths were pressed to his thirsty lips. and the enchantment of his marvellous dream. and approached the couch on which he was reposing. and bright and flowing hair. their throats bare. Messalina. which seemed to veil its virgin brow before these marble wantons. those calm shadows. one of those chaste figures. Then the three statues advanced towards him with looks of love. their feet hidden in their long white tunics. hair flowing like waves. breasts of ice became like heated lava. It seemed to Franz that he closed his eyes. and he was held in cool serpent-like embraces.

and his body refreshed. so pure. one of the shadows which had shared his dream with looks and kisses. an excellent supper. Otherwise. even in the very face of open day. He found that he was in a grotto. so grand. and through a kind of fanlight saw a blue sea and an azure sky. on the shore the sailors were sitting. He was for some time without reflection or thought for the divine charm which is in the things of nature.Chapter 32: The Waking. he seemed still to be in a dream. he was free from the slightest headache. Thus every now and then he saw in fancy amid the sailors. reminded him of the illusiveness of his vision. He stretched forth his hand. that left against the rocks a lace of foam as white as silver. and as if the statues had been but shadows from the tomb. and touched stone. and so strong a hold had it taken of his imagination. very soft and odoriferous. and a spoonful of hashish. a subterranean palace full of splendor. and found himself lying on his bournous in a bed of dry heather. The vision had fled. or undulating in the vessel. his head was perfectly clear. so deep was the impression made in his mind by the dream. a faculty for absorbing the pure air. chatting and laughing. that at least a year had elapsed since all these things had passed. and once more awakened memory. his presentation to a smuggler chief. and at ten yards from them the boat was at anchor. they had vanished at his waking. and to all the excitement of his dream succeeded the calmness of reality. 393 . on the contrary. went towards the opening. then gradually this view of the outer world. There for some time he enjoyed the fresh breeze which played on his brow. and enjoying the bright sunshine more vividly than ever. He recalled his arrival on the island. The air and water were shining in the beams of the morning sun. He advanced several paces towards the point whence the light came. however. he rose to his seat. seated on a rock. he felt a certain degree of lightness. and listened to the dash of the waves on the beach. When Franz returned to himself. so calm. It seemed. He thought himself in a sepulchre. into which a ray of sunlight in pity scarcely penetrated. specially after a fantastic dream. undulating gracefully on the water.

there exists a man who has received me in this island. After a second. and directed it towards the yacht. you will. I understand. “he is bidding you adieu. “this is. “In the first place.” The young man took his carbine and fired it in the air. and the patron. “to find the entrance to the enchanted apartment. “There.He went gayly up to the sailors. and holding a spyglass in his hand. 394 . and desires us to express the regret he feels at not being able to take his leave in person.” “So. But I too have had the idea you have. “The Signor Sinbad has left his compliments for your excellency. recognize your host in the midst of his crew. but without any idea that the noise could be heard at the distance which separated the yacht from the shore. and waved his pocket-handkerchief to his guest in token of adieu. Gaetano pointed in a direction in which a small vessel was making sail towards the southern point of Corsica.” So saying. “What are your excellency’s orders?” inquired Gaetano. light me a torch. as very important business calls him to Malaga. He was attired as he had been on the previous evening. then. Franz adjusted his telescope. if it would amuse you. Franz returned the salute by shaking his handkerchief as an exchange of signals. in all probability. and two or three times the same fancy has come over me. and I will get you the torch you ask for. your excellency. which rose gracefully as it expanded in the air. entertained me right royally.” said Franz. and then Franz heard a slight report. all reality.” “Ah. With much pleasure. Gaetano was not mistaken. who rose as soon as they perceived him. said. a slight cloud of smoke was seen at the stern of the vessel. and his departed while I was asleep?” “He exists as certainly as that you may see his small yacht with all her sails spread. and if you will use your glass. but he trusts you will excuse him. At the stern the mysterious stranger was standing up looking towards the shore. then. do you hear?” observed Gaetano. yes. Gaetano. accosting him.” replied the patron.

Since.but I have always given it up. after having told Gaetano to roast one of the two kids. now like a sea-gull on the wave. which he had utterly forgotten. light a torch. He looked again through his glass. and Gaetano smiled. others had before him attempted the same thing. by traces of smoke.” and he was irresistibly attracted towards the grotto. without strict scrutiny. and. Then. At the end of this time he gave up his search. and when he returned the kid was roasted and the repast ready. He recognized the place where he had awaked by the bed of heather that was there. continuing her flight towards Corsica. rather than enjoying a pleasure. Franz took the lamp. in spite of the failure of his first search. though wild and agile as chamois. but even then he could not distinguish anything.” he remarked to Gaetano.” Giovanni obeyed. When Franz appeared again on the shore. The second visit was a long one. These animals. unless that. occupied his mind. he did not see a fissure without introducing the blade of his hunting sword into it. and he lost two hours in his attempts. All was vain. followed by Gaetano. but it was in vain that he carried his torch all round the exterior surface of the grotto. or a projecting point on which he did not lean and press in the hopes it would give way. He took his fowling-piece. Franz was sitting on the spot where he was on the previous evening when his mysterious host had invited him to supper. and Franz could not consider them as game. “you told me that Signor Sinbad 395 . Gaetano reminded him that he had come for the purpose of shooting goats. and at the end of a quarter of an hour he had killed a goat and two kids. in vain. Yet he did not leave a foot of this granite wall. and entered the subterranean grotto. he had really been the hero of one of the tales of the “Thousand and One Nights. the yacht only seemed like a small white speck on the horizon. Giovanni. which were at last utterly useless. like him. “and give it to his excellency. and he saw the little yacht. much more enthralling. the evening before. Moreover. “Why. were too much like domestic goats. he began a second. other ideas. as impenetrable as futurity. He saw nothing. and began to hunt over the island with the air of a man who is fulfilling a duty.” he added.

he is one who fears neither God nor Satan. his boat being ready. “And what cares he for that. “or any authorities? He smiles at them. he had no longer any inducement to remain at Monte Cristo. they had lost sight of Monte Cristo. his yacht is not a ship. When Franz had once again set foot on shore.was going to Malaga. the events which had just passed. while he finished his affairs of pleasure at Florence. Franz’s host. why.” “But such services as these might involve him with the authorities of the country in which he practices this kind of philanthropy. he hastened on board. and they were soon under way. At the moment the boat began her course they lost sight of the yacht.” replied Gaetano with a laugh. as it disappeared in the gulf of Porto-Vecchio. he forgot.” said Franz. “Ah. statues. As to Franz. The boat sailed on all day and all night. hashish. and next morning. and so enjoyed exceptional privileges. but a bird. and.” “Don’t you remember. – all became a dream for Franz. in the first place.” replied Gaetano. Sinbad. while it seems he is in the direction of PortoVecchio. is he not certain of finding friends everywhere?” It was perfectly clear that the Signor Sinbad. and would at any time run fifty leagues out of his course to do a poor devil a service.” added Franz. and he would beat any frigate three knots in every nine. who was awaiting him at Rome. they say. “I told you that among the crew there were two Corsican brigands?” “True. and he is going to land them. He had lost all hope of detecting the secret of the grotto. and if he were to throw himself on the coast. when the sun rose. “Precisely so. and then supper. Let them try to pursue him! Why.” said the patron. and then thought of nothing but how he should rejoin his companion. 396 . he consequently despatched his breakfast. With it was effaced the last trace of the preceding night. for the moment at least. had the honor of being on excellent terms with the smugglers and bandits along the whole coast of the Mediterranean.

” said Franz. The two rooms looked onto the street – a fact which Signor Pastrini commented upon as an inappreciable advantage. when Morcerf himself appeared. as we have said. “Come. who was ready to pounce on the traveller and was about to lead him to Albert. and at each time found it more marvellous and striking. we must have a carriage. and a carriage for tomorrow and the following days. but the host was unable to decide to which of the two nations the traveller belonged. Peter.” replied the landlord. a resting-place full of poetry and character. On his first inquiry he was told. excusing himself for having made his excellency wait. and Rome was already a prey to that low and feverish murmur which precedes all great events.” 397 . But this was not so easy a matter. The apartment consisted of two small rooms and a parlor. An apartment. and at Rome there are four great events in every year. and reached the hotel. no joking. All the rest of the year the city is in that state of dull apathy. “you shall be served immediately. that there was no room for him at the Hotel de Londres. At last he made his way through the mob. and at which Franz had already halted five or six times. This plan succeeded. taking the candlestick from the porter. “Very good. “but we must have some supper instantly.He set out.” “As to supper. and the Feast of St. with the impertinence peculiar to hired hackney-coachmen and inn-keepers with their houses full. which was continually increasing and getting more and more turbulent. signor Pastrini. Corpus Christi. and asked for Albert de Morcerf. but as for the carriage” – “What as to the carriage?” exclaimed Albert. between life and death. for the streets were thronged with people. come. Signor Pastrini. The rest of the floor was hired by a very rich gentleman who was supposed to be a Sicilian or Maltese. scolding the waiters. and Signor Pastrini himself ran to him. Holy Week. had been retained beforehand. – the Carnival. and thus he had but to go to Signor Pastrini’s hotel. and on the Saturday evening reached the Eternal City by the mail-coach. Then he sent his card to Signor Pastrini. which renders it similar to a kind of station between this world and the next – a sublime spot.

then. At Drake’s or Aaron’s one pays twenty-five lire for common days. but that’s no matter.” “What are we to say to this?” asked Franz.” “Then they must put horses to mine.” “There are no horses. “we will do all in our power to procure you one – this is all I can say. but to pass to another. that’s all. that when a thing completely surpasses my comprehension. “To-morrow morning. and thirty or thirty-five lire a day more for Sundays and feast days. “I say. I am accustomed not to dwell on that thing. and there are none left but those absolutely requisite for posting.” 398 . I see plainly enough.” “Well.” “I am afraid if we offer them double that we shall not procure a carriage. Signor Pastrini?” “Yes.“Sir.” “And when shall we know?” inquired Franz. your excellency. and there’s an end of it.” replied the host. my dear Franz – no horses?” he said.” Albert looked at Franz like a man who hears a reply he does not understand. that will make forty.” answered the inn-keeper. let us sup. the deuce! then we shall pay the more. Is supper ready. It is a little worse for the journey. “Do you understand that. “but can’t we have post-horses?” “They have been all hired this fortnight. add five lire a day more for extras. “Oh.

” Morcerf then. it is only a question of how much shall be charged for them. and dreamed he was racing all over Rome at Carnival time in a coach with six horses. 399 . my dear boy. slept soundly. went to bed. they will come in due season. with that delighted philosophy which believes that nothing is impossible to a full purse or well-lined pocketbook. “Be easy. supped.“But the carriage and horses?” said Franz.

“that there are no carriages to be had from Sunday to Tuesday evening.” replied Pastrini.” “Ah. your Eternal City is a nice sort of place.” “At least we can have a window?” 400 . that you were too late – there is not a single carriage to be had – that is. The sound had not yet died away when Signor Pastrini himself entered. “I feared yesterday.” “Yes. and instantly rang the bell. excellency. but from now till Sunday you can have fifty if you please. that is something. when I would not promise you anything.” returned Franz. “for the very three days it is most needed. entering.” “Well. and without waiting for Franz to question him. The next morning Franz woke first. “no carriage to be had?” “Just so. “which will make it still more difficult. and who knows what may arrive between this and Sunday?” “Ten or twelve thousand travellers will arrive. excellency. “to-day is Thursday.” said Morcerf.” “What is the matter?” said Albert. who was desirous of keeping up the dignity of the capital of the Christian world in the eyes of his guest.” said Albert.” “That is to say. “Well.Chapter 33: Roman Bandits.” “My friend.” returned Franz.” replied Franz. for the last three days of the carnival. “let us enjoy the present without gloomy forebodings for the future. “you have guessed it.” said the landlord triumphantly.

that as I have been four times before at Rome. I tell you beforehand. there was only one left on the fifth floor of the Doria Palace. – “utterly impossible. “I came to Rome to see the Carnival. no. there we are sure of obtaining gondolas if we cannot have carriages. and that has been let to a Russian prince for twenty sequins a day. “do you think we are going to run about on foot in the streets of Rome. We will disguise ourselves as monster pulchinellos or shepherds of the Landes. like the gentleman in the next apartments.” 401 .” “And.” “Bravo! an excellent idea.” said Franz. as I am not a millionaire. though I see it on stilts. only. “do you know what is the best thing we can do? It is to pass the Carnival at Venice.” said Franz to Albert. like lawyer’s clerks?” “I hasten to comply with your excellencies’ wishes. a window!” exclaimed Signor Pastrini. and the day after.“Where?” “In the Corso. and then you will make a good profit.” cried Albert. “I warn you. and I will.” The two young men looked at each other with an air of stupefaction. the carriage will cost you six piastres a day. “Well.” “Ah. tomorrow.” “Do your excellencies still wish for a carriage from now to Sunday morning?” “Parbleu!” said Albert.” “Ah. we will give you twelve piastres for to-day. I know the prices of all the carriages. and we shall have complete success. the devil.

but these words were addressed to him.” The genius for laudation characteristic of the race was in that phrase. seeing Franz approach the window. with the smile peculiar to the Italian speculator when he confesses defeat.” returned Signor Pastrini. their excellencies stretched their legs along the seats. Franz was the “excellency. in spite of its humble exterior. but.” “In an hour it will be at the door. in the hope of making more out of me.” cried the cicerone. his first impulse was to look round him. and I hope you will be satisfied. “or I shall go myself and bargain with your affettatore. the young men would have thought themselves happy to have secured it for the last three days of the Carnival. the cicerone sprang into the seat behind. 402 . who has plundered me pretty well already. “I will do all I can.” “When do you wish the carriage to be here?” “In an hour. you will lose the preference. Franz and Albert descended. the carriage approached the palace.” An hour after the vehicle was at the door. excellency” – said Pastrini. and that will be your fault.” and the Hotel de Londres was the “palace. it was a hack conveyance which was elevated to the rank of a private carriage in honor of the occasion. he will take a less price than the one I offer you. “shall I bring the carriage nearer to the palace?” Accustomed as Franz was to the Italian phraseology.“But. excellency. “Now go.” returned Franz. “Where do your excellencies wish to go?” asked he.” “And now we understand each other. he is an old friend of mine. “Excellency.” “Do not give yourselves the trouble. still striving to gain his point. and.” the vehicle was the “carriage. who is mine also.

Franz took out his watch – it was half-past four. and your excellencies will do well not to think of that any longer. But Albert did not know that it takes a day to see Saint Peter’s. emitting a volume of smoke and balancing his chair on its hind legs. thus they would behold the Colosseum without finding their impressions dulled by first looking on the Capitol. and it is done directly. When we show a friend a city one has already visited. and re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni. there is an end of it. lighting his cigar. he gave them a tolerable repast. “only madmen. ever do travel. skirt the outer wall. “I am delighted to have your approbation. the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina. as he had shown him Saint Peter’s by daylight. but at the first words he was interrupted. Signor Pastrini had promised them a banquet.” said Pastrini. The day was passed at Saint Peter’s alone.“To Saint Peter’s first.” said Albert. – when anything cannot be done. They returned to the hotel. and then to the Colosseum. and the Cafe de Paris. and a month to study it. the Arch of Septimus Severus. They sat down to dinner.” It is of course understood that 403 . and began accordingly. and the Via Sacra. Suddenly the daylight began to fade away.” returned Signor Pastrini.” “That is what all the French say. He was to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo. when you are told anything cannot he done.” “But.” returned Albert.” “Did you come to tell us you have procured a carriage?” asked Albert. At the end of the dinner he entered in person. at the door Franz ordered the coachman to be ready at eight. we feel the same pride as when we point out a woman whose lover we have been. you pay double. “Excellency.” “It is much more convenient at Paris. Franz thought that he came to hear his dinner praised. at Rome things can or cannot be done. He wished to show Albert the Colosseum by moonlight. “for that reason. Men in their senses do not quit their hotel in the Rue du Helder. their walk on the Boulevard de Gand. “No. or blockheads like us. but it was not for that I came. the Forum. somewhat piqued. I do not understand why they travel.

it was evident that he was musing over this answer. which did not seem very clear. You have told your coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo. to say the least.” “Dangerous! – and why?” “On account of the famous Luigi Vampa. this route is impossible.” “Well. but I can assure you he is quite unknown at Paris. that is. who may this famous Luigi Vampa be?” inquired Albert. and re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni?” “These are my words exactly. Signor Pastrini remained silent a short time. “you had some motive for coming here. “he may be very famous at Rome. if you are on good terms with its frequenters.” “You intend visiting Il Colosseo. in his turn interrupting his host’s meditations. and dined frequently at the only restaurant where you can really dine.” “Pray. to drive round the walls.” “You mean the Colosseum?” “It is the same thing. “But.” said Franz.” “Impossible!” “Very dangerous. you have ordered your carriage at eight o’clock precisely?” “I have.” “What! do you not know him?” 404 . appeared every day on the fashionable walk. yes.Albert resided in the aforesaid street. may I beg to know what it was?” “Ah.

but had never been able to comprehend them. it was for your interest I” – “Albert does not say you are a liar. that I shall not believe one word of what you are going to tell us. Signor Pastrini. so proceed.” Signor Pastrini turned toward Franz.” said Franz. who seemed to him the more reasonable of the two.” “I forewarn you. compared to whom the Decesaris and the Gasparones were mere children. and yet no one believed her.” “I had told your excellency he is the most famous bandit we have had since the days of Mastrilla. “if you look upon me as a liar.” said he gravely. it is useless for me to say anything. addressing Franz. and tell us all about this Signor Vampa. begin. go on. while you. “here is a bandit for you at last. at least. – he had had a great many Frenchmen in his house.” 405 . Come. “but that he will not believe what you are going to tell us.” returned Franz. he is a bandit. Albert. we must do him justice. are sure of the credence of half your audience.” “You have never heard his name?” “Never.” “Well.” “But if your excellency doubt my veracity” – “Signor Pastrini. who was a prophetess. “you are more susceptible than Cassandra.” “Once upon a time” – “Well. sit down.” “Now then.“I have not that honor.” cried Franz. having told you this. “Excellency. Signor Pastrini. then. – but I will believe all you say.

and doubtless the Roman people will crown us at the Capitol. you are not safe fifty yards from the gates.” “My dear fellow. but I very much doubt your returning by the other. turning to Franz. “that you will go out by one. and knows.“Well. and we take him – we bring him back to Rome. “here is an admirable adventure. hurt at Albert’s repeated doubts of the truth of his assertions. after nightfall.” asked Franz. “Because. blunderbusses. like Curtius and the veiled Horatius.” 406 . and to re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni?” “This. Luigi Vampa comes to take us. and double-barrelled guns.” Whilst Albert proposed this scheme. and proclaim us. but to your companion. “where are these pistols. “I do not say this to you. who asks how he can repay so great a service.” said Albert. blunderbusses. who knows Rome. then we merely ask for a carriage and a pair of horses.” returned Signor Pastrini. and present him to his holiness the Pope. and other deadly weapons with which you intend filling the carriage?” “Not out of my armory.” “Why?” asked Franz. for at Terracina I was plundered even of my hunting-knife. what has this bandit to do with the order I have given the coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo. and we see the Carnival in the carriage.” “I shared the same fate at Aquapendente. we will fill our carriage with pistols.” replied Signor Pastrini. the preservers of their country. too. Signor Pastrini’s face assumed an expression impossible to describe. “And pray. “Count.” “On your honor is that true?” cried Albert. that these things are not to be laughed at.

“Do you know. as for us. Signor Pastrini.” Albert poured himself out a glass of lacryma Christi. and then he spoke to Franz.” said Franz. and it would be ridiculous to risk our lives for so foolish a motive. tell me who is this Luigi Vampa. in order that. and worthy the ‘Let him die. “your answer is sublime. “Your excellency knows that it is not customary to defend yourself when attacked by bandits. ruin. only. and you have seen how peaceful my intentions are. when Horace made that answer.” said Albert.” “My dear Albert. “that this practice is very convenient for bandits. the safety of Rome was concerned.” The inn-keeper turned to Franz with an air that seemed to say. if we meet him by chance. and one day that I fell into his hands. for I knew him when he was a child. “not make any resistance!” “No. as the only one likely to listen with attention.” Doubtless Signor Pastrini found this pleasantry compromising.” returned Franz.’ of Corneille.” “You could not apply to any one better able to inform you on all these points. which he sipped at intervals. fortunately for me. but. Is he a shepherd or a nobleman? – young or old? – tall or short? Describe him. he. Signor Pastrini. whose courage revolted at the idea of being plundered tamely.” “What!” cried Albert. for it would be useless. What could you do against a dozen bandits who spring out of some pit. or aqueduct. we may recognize him. it is only to gratify a whim. for he only answered half the question. and level their pieces at you?” “Eh. “Your friend is decidedly mad. muttering some unintelligible words. recollected 407 . lighting a second cigar at the first. “now that my companion is quieted. and that it seems to be due to an arrangement of their own. going from Ferentino to Alatri. parbleu! – they should kill me. like Bugaboo John or Lara. “Well.

” said Franz.” said Albert. but made me a present of a very splendid watch. were quite behind him. after having made each of them a respectful bow. and set me free.” “What do you think of that. “You tell me. – he will gain himself a reputation. “Pardieu!” cried Albert.me. who have all made some noise in the world. Alexander. which meant that he was ready to tell them all they wished to know concerning Luigi Vampa. “Your excellencies permit it?” asked the host. not only without ransom.000 francs. and at his age. Signor Pastrini drew from his fob a magnificent Breguet. at the moment Signor Pastrini was about to open his mouth. I have its fellow” – he took his watch from his waistcoat pocket – “and it cost me 3.” said he.” said Franz. Caesar. of Parisian manufacture. and Napoleon.” “Let us see the watch.” “So. “the hero of this history is only two and twenty?” 408 . and a count’s coronet. then?” “A young man? he is only two and twenty. “Peste. motioning Signor Pastrini to seat himself. bearing the name of its maker. “I compliment you on it. “that you knew Luigi Vampa when he was a child – he is still a young man. “Here it is. Albert? – at two and twenty to be thus famous?” “Yes.” returned Albert. “you are not a preacher.” continued Franz. and related his history to me.” “Let us hear the history. to remain standing!” The host sat down.

“Scarcely so much. Signor Pastrini. his father was also a shepherd. when the flock was safe at the farm. the little Luigi hastened to the smith at Palestrina. and thus learn to write. “Go on. “Thanks for the comparison. and entered the count’s service when he was five years old.” said Albert. he came to the curate of Palestrina. When quite a child.” continued Franz. he told Luigi that he might meet him on his return. for he could not quit his flock. smiling at his friend’s susceptibility. The next morning he gathered an armful of pieces of slate and 409 . and asked to be taught to read. At the end of three months he had learned to read. and lived by the wool and the milk.” returned the host. he was born at Pampinara. one middling. The priest had a writing teacher at Rome make three alphabets – one large. One day. it was somewhat difficult. This was not enough – he must now learn to write. “To what class of society does he belong?” “He was a shepherd-boy attached to the farm of the Count of San-Felice. situated between Palestrina and the lake of Gabri. which he sold at Rome. the priest and the boy sat down on a bank by the wayside. pointing to Albert. and that then he would give him a lesson. the little Vampa displayed a most extraordinary precocity. and the little shepherd took his lesson out of the priest’s breviary. The child accepted joyfully. and formed a sort of stylus. The same evening. was called Borgo. heated and sharpened it. every day. and one small. with a bow. and pointed out to him that by the help of a sharp instrument he could trace the letters on a slate. Every day Luigi led his flock to graze on the road that leads from Palestrina to Borgo. warning him that it would be short. at nine o’clock in the morning.” “Is he tall or short?” “Of the middle height – about the same stature as his excellency. having no other name. when he was seven years old. but the good curate went every day to say mass at a little hamlet too poor to pay a priest and which. who owned a small flock. and that he must profit as much as possible by it. took a large nail.

The next day they kept their word.began. ordered his attendant to let him eat with the domestics. which yielded beneath the hand of a woman. So that. but could never have been bended. The curate related the incident to the Count of San-Felice. and thus they grew up together. at the end of a week he wrote as well with this pen as with the stylus. thanks to her friend’s 410 . Vampa was twelve. the famous sculptor. astonished at his quickness and intelligence. houses. like Giotto. made him a present of pens. “A girl of six or seven – that is. he drew on his slate sheep. with his knife. which Luigi had carried as far as he could in his solitude. His disposition (always inclined to exact concessions rather than to make them) kept him aloof from all friendships. This demanded new effort. laughed. and trees. but nothing compared to the first. a word. he was given to alternating fits of sadness and enthusiasm. and conversed together. and the price of all the little carvings in wood he sold at Rome. this impetuous character. and which beneath the hand of a man might have broken. and Teresa eleven. and to give him two piastres a month. who sent for the little shepherd. a little younger than Vampa – tended sheep on a farm near Palestrina. let their flocks mingle together. and gold hairpins. None of the lads of Pampinara. and. Teresa was lively and gay. was often angry and capricious. but coquettish to excess. The two piastres that Luigi received every month from the Count of San-Felice’s steward. and always sarcastic. and the children returned to their respective farms. he began to carve all sorts of objects in wood. And yet their natural disposition revealed itself. He applied his imitative powers to everything. Palestrina. born at Valmontone and was named Teresa. in the evening they separated the Count of San-Felice’s flock from those of Baron Cervetri. The two children met. made him read and write before him. Then. paper. Beside his taste for the fine arts. and a penknife. promising to meet the next morning. she was an orphan. when young. Teresa alone ruled by a look. it was thus that Pinelli. a gesture. necklaces. Luigi purchased books and pencils. sat down near each other. or Valmontone had been able to gain any influence over him or even to become his companion. At the end of three months he had learned to write. had commenced. played. With this. The curate. were expended in ear-rings.

For a long time a gun had been the young man’s greatest ambition. and everything served him for a mark – the trunk of some old and mossgrown olive-tree. This. and carrying a ball with the precision of an English rifle. In every country where independence has taken the place of liberty. when they had thus passed the day in building castles in the air. he purchased powder and ball. “One day the young shepherd told the count’s steward that he had seen a wolf come out of the Sabine mountains. and had then cast the gun aside. however. made at Breschia. and amused herself by watching him direct the ball wherever he pleased. that grew on the Sabine mountains. they separated their flocks.generosity. so beautifully carved that it would have fetched fifteen or twenty piastres. their wishes. 411 . and attended by a train of liveried domestics. and prowl around his flock. often makes him feared. this was what Vampa longed for. as he quitted his earth on some marauding excursion. The steward gave him a gun. he examined the broken stock. and. and descended from the elevation of their dreams to the reality of their humble position. with as much accuracy as if he placed it by hand. in all their dreams. The two children grew up together. superbly attired. But nothing could be farther from his thoughts. Then. that Teresa overcame the terror she at first felt at the report. or governor of a province. by rendering its owner terrible. and giving themselves up to the wild ideas of their different characters. Vampa saw himself the captain of a vessel. passing all their time with each other. the eagle that soared above their heads: and thus he soon became so expert. the first desire of a manly heart is to possess a weapon. but one day the count broke the stock. This gun had an excellent barrel. and their conversations. was nothing to a sculptor like Vampa. Teresa saw herself rich. and made a fresh stock. calculated what change it would require to adapt the gun to his shoulder. From this moment Vampa devoted all his leisure time to perfecting himself in the use of his precious weapon. Thus. Teresa was the most beautiful and the best-attired peasant near Rome. which at once renders him capable of defence or attack. had he chosen to sell it. general of an army. the fox.

One day he carried off a young girl. then the rest draw lots for her. and Pampinara had disappeared. and the most courageous contadino for ten leagues around. the strongest. Teresa was sixteen. but it was soon known that they had joined Cucumetto. The brigands have never been really extirpated from the neighborhood of Rome. and whose intermingled perfume rises to the heavens. had crossed the Garigliano. and followed the footsteps of Decesaris and Gasperone. “The celebrated Cucumetto. Only their wish to see each other had become a necessity. like Manfred. After some time Cucumetto became the object of universal attention. The bandit’s laws are positive. because it was known that she was beloved by Vampa. He was spoken of as the most adroit. and had taken refuge on the banks of the Amasine between Sonnino and Juperno. and although Teresa was universally allowed to be the most beautiful girl of the Sabines. and they would have preferred death to a day’s separation. but when a chief presents himself he rarely has to wait long for a band of followers. a messenger is sent to negotiate. whose branches intertwined. And yet the two young people had never declared their affection. and she is abandoned to their brutality until death relieves her sufferings. no one had ever spoken to her of love. the 412 . pursued in the Abruzzo. and carried him to the farm. the most extraordinary traits of ferocious daring and brutality were related of him. driven out of the kingdom of Naples. a young girl belongs first to him who carries her off. He strove to collect a band of followers. where he had carried on a regular war. the daughter of a surveyor of Frosinone. Their disappearance at first caused much disquietude. whom he hoped to surpass. Many young men of Palestrina. When their parents are sufficiently rich to pay a ransom. Proud of this exploit. they had grown together like two trees whose roots are mingled. and Vampa seventeen. but the wolf had scarcely advanced ten yards ere he was dead. Sometimes a chief is wanted. go where he will. Frascati. a band of brigands that had established itself in the Lepini mountains began to be much spoken of. These exploits had gained Luigi considerable reputation. Vampa took the dead animal on his shoulders.“One evening a wolf emerged from a pine-wood hear which they were usually stationed. About this time. The man of superior abilities always finds admirers.

his name was Carlini. and was answered by a burst of laughter. as he said. When she recognized her lover. to inform him what had occurred. The instant the letter was written. and his 413 . and believed herself safe. while the young girl. for he but too well knew the fate that awaited her. The young girl’s lover was in Cucumetto’s troop. between civilized and savage life. but his eye vainly sought Rita and Cucumetto among them. the poor girl extended her arms to him. “It so happened that night that Cucumetto had sent Carlini to a village. However. The boy undertook the commission. and could pay a large ransom. since he had been near. so that he had been unable to go to the place of meeting. He found a young shepherd watching his flock. Carlini seized it. should the ransom be refused. Carlini besought his chief to make an exception in Rita’s favor. as he was a favorite with Cucumetto.prisoner is hostage for the security of the messenger. The natural messengers of the bandits are the shepherds who live between the city and the mountains. He inquired where they were. Cucumetto seemed to yield to his friend’s entreaties. Carlini returned. He found the troop in the glade. and announce the joyful intelligence. and hastened to the plain to find a messenger. Cucumetto had been there. by accident. he hoped the chief would have pity on him. seated at the foot of a huge pine that stood in the centre of the forest. until nine the next morning. There he told the chief all – his affection for the prisoner. and bade him find a shepherd to send to Rita’s father at Frosinone. however. as he had for three years faithfully served him. anxious to see his mistress. and had carried the maiden off. and bidding her write to her father. He took Cucumetto one side. Carlini flew joyfully to Rita. promising to be in Frosinone in less than an hour. and how every night. A cold perspiration burst from every pore. their promises of mutual fidelity. they had met in some neighboring ruins. but Carlini felt his heart sink. and as he had saved his life by shooting a dragoon who was about to cut him down. made a veil of her picturesque head-dress to hide her face from the lascivious gaze of the bandits. as her father was rich. the prisoner is irrevocably lost. and that her ransom was fixed at three hundred piastres. Twelve hours’ delay was all that was granted – that is. supping off the provisions exacted as contributions from the peasants. telling her she was saved.

which had grasped one of the pistols in his belt. A terrible battle between the two men seemed imminent. The moon lighted the group. we will have a merry night. and does credit to your taste. we will return to our comrades and draw lots for her.’ “Cucumetto departed. to ask for an exception?’ – ‘It is true. he feared lest he should strike him unawares. this young girl is charming.’ returned Carlini. and rushed towards the spot whence the cry came. After a hundred yards he turned the corner of the thicket. and offered him a glass filled with Orvietto. Cucumetto rose. advancing towards the other bandits.’ continued Cucumetto. his hand. “‘Now.’ At this moment Carlini heard a woman’s cry. saying. Rita lay between them. but by degrees Carlini’s features relaxed. a pistol in each hand. the other with the pallor of death on his brow.’ said Cucumetto. He repeated his question. seized the glass. One of the bandits rose. then. he divined the truth. then. captain. fell to his side. any more than the rest. laughing. to abandon her to the common law?” said Carlini. Now. ‘To the health of the brave Cucumetto and the fair Rita.’ Carlini’s teeth clinched convulsively. he found Rita senseless in the arms of Cucumetto. “‘Well. ‘have you executed your commission?’ “‘Yes. without losing sight of Carlini. but nothing betrayed a hostile 414 . ‘At nine o’clock to-morrow Rita’s father will be here with the money. doubtless.hair stood on end. At the sight of Carlini. broke it across the face of him who presented it. The two brigands looked at each other for a moment – the one with a smile of lasciviousness on his lips.’ – ‘But never mind. “‘Why should an exception be made in her favor?’ “‘I thought that my entreaties’ – “‘What right have you.’ – ‘You have determined. ‘sooner or later your turn will come. ‘are you coming?’ – ‘I follow you. for.’ said Cucumetto. in the meantime. as I am not egotistical.’ – ‘It is well.

his arms folded. with the exception of Carlini. They turned round. who remained seated. and the chief inclined his head in sign of acquiescence. extending from the temple to the mouth. Her head hung back. the bandits could perceive. ‘just now Carlini would not drink your health when I proposed it to him. and let us see if he will be more condescending to you than to me.’ Every one expected an explosion on Carlini’s part. A large wound. to his great surprise. by the firelight. He was the man who had proposed to Carlini the health of their chief.’ said he. Carlini ate and drank as if nothing had happened. – ‘Your health. Diavolaccio. Carlini!’ cried the brigands. and as for the money. when they saw the chief. The eyes of all shone fiercely as they made their demand. ‘Captain. and ate and drank calmly. burst into a loud laugh. ‘my expedition has given me an appetite. near Rita. ‘Let us draw lots! let us draw lots!’ cried all the brigands. seeing himself thus favored by fortune. He continued to follow the path to the glade. and to whom Carlini replied by breaking the glass across his face. Then sitting down by the fire.design on Carlini’s part. Diavolaccio advanced amidst the most 415 . ‘My supper. but. but to their great surprise.’ and they all formed a circle round the fire. He was standing. Diovalaccio. and the youngest of the band drew forth a ticket. while Diavolaccio disappeared. without his hand trembling in the least. and saw Diavolaccio bearing the young girl in his arms. that every one rose.’ – ‘Well done. was bleeding profusely. Carlini arrived almost as soon as himself. and he drank it off. As they entered the circle. This apparition was so strange and so solemn. who was still insensible. “Their demand was fair. The bandits looked on with astonishment at this singular conduct until they heard footsteps.’ said he calmly. but this mattered little to him now Rita had been his. were placed in a hat. and filling it.’ said he. he took a glass in one hand and a flask in the other. The names of all. ‘that is acting like a good fellow. Cucumetto fancied for a moment the young man was about to take her in his arms and fly. propose mine to him. the ticket bore the name of Diovolaccio. including Carlini. and the red light of the fire made them look like demons. and her long hair swept the ground. the unearthly pallor of the young girl and of Diavolaccio. three hundred piastres distributed among the band was so small a sum that he cared little about it.

as he raised his head. Then every one could understand the cause of the unearthly pallor in the young girl and the bandit. ‘she is thine. a knife buried in her bosom. the woman’s face became visible. Every one looked at Carlini. A knife was plunged up to the hilt in Rita’s left breast. and lay down before the fire. and laid Rita at the captain’s feet. It was Rita’s father.’ said the bandit. ‘demand thy child of Carlini.’ said the bandit to Rita’s father. his hand on the butt of one of his pistols.’ and he returned to his companions. who brought his daughter’s ransom in person. ‘Here.’ said he. the meaning of which he could not comprehend. and lighted up the face of the dead. A woman lay on the ground.profound silence. ah. ‘does any one dispute the possession of this woman with me?’ – ‘No.’ returned the chief. have done the same. “‘There. No other of the bandits would. pale and bloody. without taking the money. he will tell thee what has become of her.’ Carlini raised her in his arms. and approaching the corpse. As he approached. They both advanced beneath the trees. then. At length he advanced toward the group. ‘here are three hundred piastres. her head resting on the knees of a man. to Cucumetto. and pointed to two persons grouped at the foot of a tree. ‘what hast thou done?’ and he gazed with terror on Rita. But the chief.’ said the chief. A ray of moonlight poured through the trees. through whose branches streamed the moonlight.’ said he. and the forms of two persons became visible to the old man’s eyes. but they all understood what Carlini had done. – ‘Cucumetto had violated thy daughter. rising in his turn. The old man remained motionless. give me back my child. ‘Now. The old man recognized his child. he felt that some great and unforeseen misfortune hung over his head. who was seated by her. – ‘Wretch!’ returned the old man. Cucumetto stopped at last. and the bandits wrapped themselves in their cloaks.’ cried Carlini. and in an instant all were on the alert. and Carlini recognized the old man. ‘Ah. At midnight the sentinel gave the alarm. made a sign to him to follow. Cucumetto placed his sentinels for the night. ‘I expected thee. Carlini raised his head. perhaps. therefore I slew her. The old man obeyed.’ All savage natures appreciate a desperate deed. ‘I now understand why Carlini stayed behind. the sheath at his belt was empty. for she would 416 . ‘I loved her. and carried her out of the circle of firelight.

He went toward the place where he had left him. These were the first tears the man of blood had ever wept. he held it out to the old man with one hand. they placed her in the grave.have served as the sport of the whole band. Carlini was killed. they cast the earth over the corpse.’ Carlini threw himself. and now leave me alone. and. An hour before daybreak. the father kissed her first. until the grave was filled. Then. in an encounter with the Roman carbineers.’ Carlini obeyed. ‘if I have done wrongly.’ Carlini fetched two pickaxes. There was some surprise. beneath which the young girl was to repose. ‘Now.’ The old man spoke not. I command you. each more 417 . when they had finished. and the father and the lover began to dig at the foot of a huge oak. ‘I thank you. into the arms of his mistress’s father. he should have received a ball between his shoulders. ‘Now. anticipated it. They told ten other stories of this bandit chief. He found the old man suspended from one of the branches of the oak which shaded his daughter’s grave. – ‘Leave me. When the grave was formed.’ continued Carlini. ‘aid me to bury my child. and said the prayers of the dead. however. for two days afterwards.’ – ‘Yet’ – replied Carlini. That astonishment ceased when one of the brigands remarked to his comrades that Cucumetto was stationed ten paces in Carlini’s rear when he fell. afterwards. the other the feet.’ said the old man.’ and withdrawing the knife from the wound in Rita’s bosom. extending his hand. But he was unable to complete this oath. It had been resolved the night before to change their encampment. On the morning of the departure from the forest of Frosinone he had followed Carlini in the darkness. Cucumetto aroused his men. Then. folded himself in his cloak. and gave the word to march. and then the lover. – ‘Thou hast done well!’ returned the old man in a hoarse voice. one taking the head. Then they knelt on each side of the grave. like a wise man. as he was with his face to the enemy. and grew pale as death. and heard this oath of vengeance. my son. rejoined his comrades. But Carlini would not quit the forest. He then took an oath of bitter vengeance over the dead body of the one and the tomb of the other. avenge her. without knowing what had become of Rita’s father. ‘embrace me. sobbing like a child. and soon appeared to sleep as soundly as the rest. that. while with the other he tore open his vest. the old man said. my son.

from Fondi to Perusia. tapping the butt of his good fowling-piece. “‘Yes. began to question them. and galloping up.’ said the brigadier. and if that did not restore her courage. without saying a word. but there is an innate sympathy between the Roman brigand and the Roman peasant and the latter is always ready to aid the former. made a sign to the fugitive to take refuge there. three of them appeared to be looking for the fugitive. can you conceal me?’ They knew full well that this fugitive must be a bandit. there would have been five hundred for you. When he came within hearing. they heard two or three reports of firearms.’ – ‘Cucumetto?’ cried Luigi and Teresa at the same moment. while the fourth dragged a brigand prisoner by the neck. appeared on the edge of the wood. which threw its ball so well. which had been already sought and obtained. in a retreat unknown to every one. The young girl trembled very much at hearing the stories. One day when they were talking over their plans for the future. saw the young peasants. perched on some dead branch. Five hundred Roman crowns are three 418 . hastened to the stone that closed up the entrance to their grotto. Instantly afterwards four carbineers. ‘I am pursued. closed the stone upon him. near which the two young persons used to graze their flocks. and the bird fell dead at the foot of the tree. “These narratives were frequently the theme of conversation between Luigi and Teresa. on horseback. Thus. Time passed on. They were both orphans. drew it away. The brigadier had a moment’s hope. The three carbineers looked about carefully on every side. took aim. and then suddenly a man came out of the wood. he exclaimed. and had only their employers’ leave to ask. They had seen no one.’ The two young persons exchanged looks. if you had helped us to catch him. Vampa. touched the trigger. and hurried towards them. ‘and as his head is valued at a thousand Roman crowns.singular than the other. and then went and resumed his seat by Teresa.’ replied the brigadier. ‘That is very annoying. but Vampa reassured her with a smile. for the man we are looking for is the chief. he pointed to a crow. and the two young people had agreed to be married when Vampa should be twenty and Teresa nineteen years of age. every one trembles at the name of Cucumetto.

’ said Vampa. Several days elapsed. but in vain. and Cucumetto came out. as to Teresa. and he drew from his pocket a purse full of gold. This was granted. They both mingled. Luigi wore the very picturesque garb of the Roman peasant at holiday time. then. Teresa had a great desire to see this ball. and Teresa was as handsome as Carmela. He had read in the countenances of Luigi and Teresa their steadfast resolution not to surrender him. pausing several times on his way. her eyes sparkled when she thought of all the fine gowns and gay jewellery she could buy with this purse of gold. But Vampa raised his head proudly. which he offered to them. as they had leave to do. The ball was given by the Count for the particular pleasure of his daughter Carmela.’ “Then the carbineers scoured the country in different directions. Vampa then removed the stone. not only was the villa brilliantly illuminated. – she was in the costume of the women of Frascati. and three thousand lire are a fortune for two poor orphans who are going to be married. and gayest glass beads. and this look from Teresa showed to him that she was a worthy daughter of Eve. they disappeared. that she and he might be present amongst the servants of the house.thousand lire. under the pretext of saluting his protectors. after a time. “‘Yes. but thousands of colored lanterns were suspended from the trees in the 419 . The time of the Carnival was at hand. it is very annoying. and he returned to the forest. Luigi asked permission of his protector. The Count of San-Felice announced a grand masked ball. ‘but we have not seen him. Through the crevices in the granite he had seen the two young peasants talking with the carbineers. Carmela was precisely the age and figure of Teresa. “The festa was magnificent. and guessed the subject of their parley. the steward. and they neither saw nor heard of Cucumetto. whom he adored. and had assumed the form of a brigand instead of a serpent. her most brilliant ornaments in her hair. to which all that were distinguished in Rome were invited. “Cucumetto was a cunning fiend. On the evening of the ball Teresa was attired in her best. with the servants and peasants.

“Carmela wished to form a quadrille. with large embroidered flowers. and thus the embroidery and muslins. ‘Will you allow me. took her appointed place with much agitation in the aristocratic quadrille. like those of the young women. were brilliant with gold and jewels. Velletri. her bodice and skirt were of cashmere. her apron of Indian muslin. which he had held beneath his own. and saying a few words to him. We need hardly add that these peasant costumes. formed quadrilles.garden. 420 . At each cross-path was an orchestra. and the other as a woman of La Riccia. Four young men of the richest and noblest families of Rome accompanied them with that Italian freedom which has not its parallel in any other country in the world. she looked at Luigi. and danced in any part of the grounds they pleased. The young man looked. who was hanging on Luigi’s arm in a group of peasants. ‘are we not in Carnival time?’ – Carmela turned towards the young man who was talking with her. Civita-Castellana. the exact and strict costume of Teresa had a very different character from that of Carmela and her companions. and tables spread with refreshments. – ‘Certainly. the cashmere waist-girdles. Two of her companions were dressed. all dazzled her. pointed with her finger to Teresa. Luigi slowly relinquished Teresa’s arm. and Teresa. Her cap was embroidered with pearls. Teresa felt a flush pass over her face. the guests stopped. and the terraces to the garden-walks. and Teresa was frivolous and coquettish. and very soon the palace overflowed to the terraces. the pins in her hair were of gold and diamonds. Carmela looked all around her. accompanied by her elegant cavalier. in the eyes of an artist. but not one of the guests had a costume similar to her own. and Sora. and the reflection of sapphires and diamonds almost turned her giddy brain. They were attired as peasants of Albano. bowed in obedience. the one as a woman of Nettuno. or those of her companions. Certainly. but there was one lady wanting.’ replied the count. and the buttons of her corset were of jewels. and invited her to dance in a quadrille directed by the count’s daughter. Carmela was attired like a woman of Sonnino. who could not refuse his assent. her girdle was of Turkey silk. The Count of San-Felice pointed out Teresa. father?’ said Carmela. and then went to Teresa.

Twice or thrice during the dance the young girl had glanced at Luigi. Teresa was endowed with all those wild graces which are so much more potent than our affected and studied elegancies. and if she were envious of the Count of San-Felice’s daughter. once even the blade of his knife. although Teresa listened timidly and with downcast eyes to the conversation of her cavalier. And with overpowering compliments her handsome cavalier led her back to the place whence he had taken her. Luigi was jealous! He felt that. and it was evident there was a great demand for a repetition. but the Count of San-Felice besought his daughter so earnestly. The quadrille had been most perfect. but this is not all. “The young peasant girl. and each time she saw that he was pale and that his features were agitated. but the young girl had disappeared. he clutched with one hand the branch of a tree against which he was leaning. that she acceded. every pulse beat with violence. When they spoke. Teresa might escape him. He followed with his eye each movement of Teresa and her cavalier.“Luigi felt a sensation hitherto unknown arising in his mind. soon recovered herself. and with the other convulsively grasped the dagger with a carved handle which was in his belt. The truth was. and where Luigi awaited her. he drew from the scabbard from time to time. She had almost all the honors of the quadrille. he felt as though he should swoon. influenced by her ambitions and coquettish disposition. when their hands touched. as Luigi could read in the ardent looks of the good-looking young man that his language was that of praise. half drawn from its sheath. at first timid and scared. unwittingly. Carmela alone objecting to it. One of the cavaliers then hastened to invite Teresa. Thus. we will not undertake to say that Carmela was not jealous of her. that Luigi had not felt the strength to support 421 . it seemed as if the whole world was turning round with him. and it seemed as though a bell were ringing in his ears. and all the voices of hell were whispering in his ears ideas of murder and assassination. without whom it was impossible for the quadrille to be formed. It was like an acute pain which gnawed at his heart. had dazzled her eyes with its sinister glare. We have said that Teresa was handsome. it was almost tremblingly that she resumed her lover’s arm. Then fearing that his paroxysm might get the better of him. and then thrilled through his whole body. and which.

then. yet fully comprehended that Luigi was right in reproaching her. to Teresa’s great astonishment. Awakened in the night by the light of the flames. ‘Do you desire it as ardently as you say?’ – ‘Yes.’ said Luigi. due. and I had only one word to say. and the gates of the villa were closed on them for the festa in-doors. but when she looked at the agitated countenance of the young man.’ – ‘Well. “That night a memorable event occurred.another such trial. and. she did not know. but yet she did not the less feel that these reproaches were merited. Why. When the chill of the night had driven away the guests from the gardens. you shall have it!’ “The young girl. much astonished. Teresa followed him with her eyes into the darkness as long as she could.’ replied the young girl. no doubt. what were you thinking of as you danced opposite the young Countess of San-Felice?’ – ‘I thought. and not a word escaped his lips the rest of the evening. to the imprudence of some servant who had neglected to extinguish the lights. and as he left her at her home. she went into the house with a sigh. he took Teresa quite away. half by persuasion and half by force.’ “‘He was right. wrapped herself in a dressing-gown. Luigi remained mute. Teresa had yielded in spite of herself. The Villa of San-Felice took fire in the rooms adjoining the very apartment of the lovely Carmela. However. raised her head to look at him. with all the frankness of her nature. and without having done anything wrong. but his face was so gloomy and terrible that her words froze to her lips. she sprang out of bed. As Luigi spoke thus. she understood by his silence and trembling voice that something strange was passing within him. She herself was not exempt from internal emotion. he said. and when he had quite disappeared. and attempted to 422 . he left her. ‘that I would give half my life for a costume such as she wore.’ “‘And what said your cavalier to you?’ – ‘He said it only depended on myself to have it. – “‘Teresa. he had removed Teresa toward another part of the garden.

She then returned to her room.”‘ – ‘Yes. Teresa. Luigi arrived first. calling for help as loudly as she could. perceiving that there was something extraordinary. but he did not appear. All the servants surrounded her. excepting the danger Carmela had run. you shall have it. which was twenty feet from the ground. and seemed to have completely forgotten the events of the previous evening. but no one had seen him.’ At these words he drew away the stone. – and the marvellous manner in which she had escaped. ‘Teresa.’ replied the young girl. – the loss occasioned by the conflagration was to him but a trifle. ‘but of course your reply was only to please me. which was natural to her when she was not excited or in a passion. “Very well. The young girl was very pensive. When she recovered. but seeing Luigi so cheerful. but the corridor by which she hoped to fly was already a prey to the flames. ‘Go into the grotto and dress yourself. as long as Carmela was safe and uninjured? Her preserver was everywhere sought for. made that appear to him rather a favor of providence than a real misfortune. looked at him steadfastly. Then he paused. on a rustic table. Carmela was greatly troubled that she had not recognized him. she on her part assumed a smiling air.’ replied Teresa with astonishment. ‘yesterday evening you told me you would give all the world to have a costume similar to that of the count’s daughter. where she fainted. he was inquired after.escape by the door. lighted up by two wax lights. 423 . at the usual hour. and showed Teresa the grotto.’ said Luigi. “The next day. whose astonishment increased at every word uttered by Luigi. As the count was immensely rich. He came toward Teresa in high spirits. The young girl. and with superhuman skill and strength conveyed her to the turf of the grass-plot. and led her to the door of the grotto.’ – ‘Yes. An entire wing of the villa was burnt down.’ “‘I have promised no more than I have given you. the two young peasants were on the borders of the forest.’ – ‘And I replied. when suddenly her window. offering her assistance. her father was by her side. was opened. ‘but I was mad to utter such a wish. a young peasant jumped into the chamber. but what of that. Luigi took her arm beneath his own.’ said Luigi proudly. seized her in his arms. which burnt on each side of a splendid mirror.

’ – ‘And here is your recompense.’ said Luigi. he begged Luigi to be his guide. – “That is your road. who was going from Palestrina to Tivoli. When he saw Luigi. On arriving there. darted into the grotto. and on a chair at the side was laid the rest of the costume. to make herself a pair of earrings. ‘if you refuse wages. who seemed used to this difference between the servility of a man of the cities and the pride of the mountaineer. and thus presenting against the blue sky that perfect outline which is peculiar to distant objects in southern climes. I do not sell it. were spread out the pearl necklace and the diamond pins. stopping a moment. that is another thing. he saw a traveller on horseback. The traveller. but as at a distance of a quarter of a mile the road again divided into three ways. and on reaching these the traveller might again stray from his route. In ten minutes Luigi and the traveller reached the cross-roads. yes.’ said the young herdsman. drawing back his hand. he put his horse into a gallop and advanced toward him.’ – ‘Well.’ 424 . without inquiring whence this attire came. perhaps. which a horse can scarcely keep up with. ‘take these two Venetian sequins and give them to your bride. you will. or even thanking Luigi. placed his carbine on his shoulder. ‘I render a service. for on the crest of a small adjacent hill which cut off the view toward Palestrina. had mistaken his way. excellency. Luigi was not mistaken. preceded the traveller with the rapid step of a mountaineer. with an air as majestic as that of an emperor.’ – ‘Ah. he stretched his hand towards that one of the roads which the traveller was to follow.’ said the traveller.’ said the traveller. accept a gift. Luigi pushed the stone behind her. transformed into a dressing-room. the young man directed him. and freed from his heavy covering. Luigi threw his cloak on the ground. and now you cannot again mistake. as if uncertain of his road.’ replied the traveller. ‘you will not find one better carved between Albano and Civita-Castellana.’ – ‘Then. “‘Thank you. and.made by Luigi. “Teresa uttered a cry of joy.’ “‘And then do you take this poniard. offering the young herdsman some small pieces of money.

for this poniard is worth more than two sequins. cocking his carbine as he went. and slowly returned by the way he had gone. The name of Sinbad the Sailor. He cast his eyes around him and saw a man carrying off Teresa. “Proceed!” said he to the host. Three cries for help came more distinctly to his ear.” “Well. and the adventures of the gentleman of that name amused me very much in my youth. the man was at least two hundred paces in advance of him. Vampa measured the distance. A moment afterwards he thought he heard his own name pronounced distinctly. as may well be supposed.’“ Franz d’Epinay started with surprise. as Nessus. it is hardly worth a piastre. ‘am called Sinbad the Sailor. he thought he heard a cry. – ‘And yours?’ – ‘I. “Vampa put the two sequins haughtily into his pocket. who was hastening towards the wood. The cry proceeded from the grotto. with the same air as he would have replied.’ answered the traveller. and there was not a chance of overtaking him. Alexander. As he came within two or three hundred paces of the grotto.” he said. He bounded like a chamois.’ said the traveller. and in a moment reached the summit of a hill opposite to that on which he had perceived the traveller.” – Franz said no more. awakened in him a world of recollections. King of Macedon. “it is a very pretty name. “that was the name which the traveller gave to Vampa as his own. ‘but then the obligation will be on my side. This man. as had the name of the Count of Monte Cristo on the previous evening. He listened to know whence this sound could proceed.’ “‘What is your name?’ inquired the traveller. 425 . carried Dejanira. who engraved it myself.“‘I accept it.” replied the narrator. but for me. – ‘Luigi Vampa. I must confess.’ replied the shepherd. the centaur. “Yes.’ – ‘For a dealer perhaps. was already three-quarters of the way on the road from the grotto to the forest. “Sinbad the Sailor. and what may you have to say against this name?” inquired Albert.

and had sworn she should be his. had pierced his heart. – a shepherdess watching her flock. he had been enamoured of Teresa. and he fell with Teresa in his arms. and rubies. his knees bent under him. dared not approach the slain ruffian but by degrees. as if his feet had been rooted to the ground. his mouth in a spasm of agony. for at ten paces from the dying man her legs had failed her. If a second traveller had passed.’ said he – ‘good. but the man lay on the earth struggling in the agonies of death. it is now my turn to dress myself.The young shepherd stopped. and she had dropped on her knees. and threw a hesitating glance at the dead body over the shoulder of her lover. clad in a cashmere grown. had also wounded his betrothed. with clinched hands. When Luigi had assured himself that she was safe and unharmed. and buttons of sapphires. when the ball. she was unscathed. so that the young man feared that the ball that had brought down his enemy. Vampa gazed on him for a moment without betraying the slightest emotion. with ear-rings and necklace of pearls. and would have declared. He would. Teresa. Vampa took Cucumetto’s body in his arms and conveyed it to the grotto. while. The ravisher stopped suddenly. he turned towards the wounded man. The young girl rose instantly. he would have seen a strange thing. that he had 426 . and believed he at length had her in his power. Suddenly Vampa turned toward his mistress: – ‘Ah. directed by the unerring skill of the young herdsman. Vampa approached the corpse. and profiting by the moment when her lover had left her alone. good! You are dressed. on the contrary. have believed that he had returned to the times of Florian. and recognized Cucumetto. shuddering in every limb. then he put the butt of his carbine to his shoulder. From the day on which the bandit had been saved by the two young peasants. on reaching Paris. Vampa then rushed towards Teresa. followed him for a second in his track. had carried her off. From that time he had watched them. emeralds. and his hair on end in the sweat of death. Fortunately. and it was fright alone that had overcome Teresa.’ “Teresa was clothed from head to foot in the garb of the Count of SanFelice’s daughter. no doubt. while in her turn Teresa remained outside. and then fired. He had just expired. diamond pins. took aim at the ravisher. His eyes remained open and menacing.

enclosed between two ridges. – ‘Now. and thus they kept on advancing for nearly an hour and a half. a Roman scarf tied round his neck. although there was no beaten track. Suddenly. Vampa in this attire resembled a painting by Leopold Robert. and powerful as a god. about ten paces from them. Vampa took this wild road.met an Alpine shepherdess seated at the foot of the Sabine Hill. They went towards the forest. and a splendid poniard was in his belt. then. and soon entered it. for he appeared to her at this moment as handsome. she endeavored to repress her emotion. with buttons of cut gold.’ – ‘Then take my arm. seemed. he therefore went forward without a moment’s hesitation. ‘are you ready to share my fortune. clung closely to 427 . and red and green silk. He had assumed the entire costume of Cucumetto. we have no time to lose. A torrent. The young man saw the effect produced on his betrothed. sky-blue velvet breeches. and a smile of pride passed over his lips.’ – The young girl did so without questioning her lover as to where he was conducting her. whatever it may be?’ – ‘Oh. and let us on. a silk waistcoat covered with embroidery. garters of deerskin.’ he said to Teresa. and shadowed by the tufted umbrage of the pines. He wore a vest of garnet-colored velvet.’ said Vampa. and a hat whereon hung ribbons of all colors. while Teresa. whose bed was dry. ‘or you are a dead man. that path to Avernus of which Virgil speaks. or Schnetz. a cartridge-box worked with gold. and pressed closely against her guide. but for the difficulties of its descent. led into a deep gorge. fastened above the knee with diamond buckles. but as she saw him advance with even step and composed countenance. no longer able to restrain her alarm. but he knew his path by looking at the trees and bushes. Teresa uttered a cry of admiration.’ – ‘What.’ he said. – ‘And follow me wherever I go?’ – ‘To the world’s end. Teresa had become alarmed at the wild and deserted look of the plain around her. – ‘Not another step. yes!’ exclaimed the young girl enthusiastically. two watches hung from his girdle. At the end of this time they had reached the thickest of the forest. worked with a thousand arabesques. not uttering a syllable. which. proud. raising his hand with a gesture of disdain. At the end of a quarter of an hour Vampa quitted the grotto. his costume was no less elegant than that of Teresa. a man advanced from behind a tree and aimed at Vampa. We need scarcely say that all the paths of the mountain were known to Vampa.

– ‘Ah. ‘do wolves rend each other?’ – ‘Who are you?’ inquired the sentinel.’ An hour afterwards Luigi Vampa was chosen captain. as they went on Teresa clung tremblingly to her lover at the sight of weapons and the glistening of carbines through the trees. and I set fire to the villa San-Felice to procure a wedding-dress for my betrothed. but I came to ask something more than to be your companion. – ‘I have killed your chief. ‘you may now go on. ‘and you seek admittance into our ranks?’ – ‘Welcome!’ cried several bandits from Ferrusino. and Anagni. At the end of ten minutes the bandit made them a sign to stop. ‘And what have you done to aspire to this honor?’ demanded the lieutenant. shepherd of the San-Felice farm.” “Well. whose dress I now wear. ‘or. Teresa and Luigi reached the summit.’ – ‘What do you want?’ – ‘I would speak with your companions who are in the glade at Rocca Bianca. – ‘Yes.’ – ‘Follow me.’ said the lieutenant.” said Franz.’ – ‘And what may that be?’ inquired the bandits with astonishment. The two young persons obeyed. I understand. go first. vice Cucumetto deceased.’ said the sentinel. – ‘I am Luigi Vampa. a croak answered this signal. Pampinara. Then the bandit thrice imitated the cry of a crow.’ said the sentinel. which no doubt in former days had been a volcano – an extinct volcano before the days when Remus and Romulus had deserted Alba to come and found the city of Rome. who had recognized Luigi Vampa.’ said the young man.him. – ‘What has he to say?’ inquired the young man who was in command in the chief’s absence. – ‘I come to ask to be your captain. – ‘Good!’ said the sentry.’ was Vampa’s reply. turning towards his friend. and all at once found themselves in the presence of twenty bandits.’ – Luigi and Teresa again set forward. – ‘I wish to say that I am tired of a shepherd’s life. went before Teresa. “what think you of citizen Luigi Vampa?” 428 . The retreat of Rocca Bianca was at the top of a small mountain. then. Cucumetto.’ – Vampa smiled disdainfully at this precaution on the part of the bandit. The bandits shouted with laughter. and continued to advance with the same firm and easy step as before. as you know your way. ‘Here is a young man who seeks and wishes to speak to you. my dear Albert.

“The explanation would be too long. and that settles the account.” “Then the police have vainly tried to lay hands on him?” “Why. or plants his dagger in his heart. They seek for him in the mountains. he blows out the prisoner’s brains with a pistol-shot.” “Well. and he is on the open sea. “are you still disposed to go to the Colosseum by the outer wall?” 429 . at Giglio. Guanouti. It depends on the distance he may be from the city. At the sixtieth minute of this hour. Tivoli.” “And what may a myth be?” inquired Pastrini. if the money is not forthcoming. the fishermen of the Tiber. they follow him on the waters. “and never had an existence.” “And how does he behave towards travellers?” “Alas! his plan is very simple. you see. “And you say that Signor Vampa exercises his profession at this moment in the environs of Rome?” “And with a boldness of which no bandit before him ever gave an example.” inquired Franz of his companion. and the smugglers of the coast. or Monte Cristo.” replied Franz. whether he gives eight hours. and when that time has elapsed he allows another hour’s grace. and when they hunt for him there. or La Riccia. he has a good understanding with the shepherds in the plains.“I say he is a myth. or a day wherein to pay their ransom. my dear landlord. Albert. and he is on the waters. then they pursue him. he reappears suddenly at Albano. twelve hours. and he has suddenly taken refuge in the islands.” replied Albert.

the two young men went down the staircase. by the streets!” cried Franz.” “By the Porta del Popolo or by the streets. my dear fellow. and a coachman appeared. “Ah. “let us to the Colosseum. “if the way be picturesque.” “Well. “the coach is ready.” said he.” said Albert. then.“Quite so.” said Franz. “Excellencies. rising. your excellencies?” “By the streets.” The clock struck nine as the door opened. “really. and got into the carriage. and lighting his third cigar. morbleu. I thought you had more courage. 430 .” said Albert.” So saying.

and Spain. Seated with folded arms in a corner of the carriage. then by cutting off the right angle of the street in which stands Santa Maria Maggiore and proceeding by the Via Urbana and San Pietro in Vincoli. Tuscany. One fact more than the rest brought his friend “Sinbad the Sailor” back to his recollection. Civita-Vecchio. and that was the mysterious sort of intimacy that seemed to exist between the brigands and the sailors. the travellers would find themselves directly opposite the Colosseum. Franz had so managed his route. and Gaeta.Chapter 34: The Colosseum. however. This itinerary possessed another great advantage. and further. 431 . Franz bethought him of having heard his singular entertainer speak both of Tunis and Palermo. so that no preliminary impression interfered to mitigate the colossal proportions of the gigantic building they came to admire. as on those of Corsica. and to ask himself an interminable number of questions touching its various circumstances without. abundantly proved to him that his island friend was playing his philanthropic part on the shores of Piombino. which had even deviated from its course and touched at Porto-Vecchio for the sole purpose of landing them. and Pastrini’s account of Vampa’s having found refuge on board the vessels of smugglers and fishermen. – that of leaving Franz at full liberty to indulge his deep reverie upon the subject of Signor Pastrini’s story. he continued to ponder over the singular history he had so lately listened to. reminded Franz of the two Corsican bandits he had found supping so amicably with the crew of the little yacht. Ostia. in which his mysterious host of Monte Cristo was so strangely mixed up. The very name assumed by his host of Monte Cristo and again repeated by the landlord of the Hotel de Londres. that during the ride to the Colosseum they passed not a single ancient ruin. arriving at a satisfactory reply to any of them. The road selected was a continuation of the Via Sistina. proving thereby how largely his circle of acquaintances extended.

there is also a special cicerone belonging to each monument – nay. and. found themselves opposite a cicerone. so unexpected was his appearance. they were at once dispersed at the sight of the dark frowning ruins of the stupendous Colosseum. the door was opened. who seizes upon you directly you set foot in your hotel. who appeared to have sprung up from the ground. and certainly no adequate notion of these stupendous ruins can be formed save by such as have visited them. and the young men. which Martial thus eulogizes: “Let Memphis cease to boast the barbarous miracles of her pyramids. and. eagerly alighting. and the many voices of Fame spread far and wide the surpassing merits of this incomparable monument. The usual guide from the hotel having followed them. It may. was duly and deeply touched with awe and enthusiastic admiration of all he saw. and never quits you while you remain in the city. it would have been so much the more difficult to break their bondage. they had paid two conductors.But however the mind of the young man might be absorbed in these reflections. be easily imagined there is no scarcity of guides at the Colosseum. and the wonders of Babylon be talked of no more among us.” As for Albert and Franz. even amid the glib loquacity of the guides. they essayed not to escape from their ciceronian tyrants. Thus. therefore. but blindly and confidingly surrendered themselves into the care and custody of their conductors. The carriage stopped near the Meta Sudans. indeed. through the various openings of which the pale moonlight played and flickered like the unearthly gleam from the eyes of the wandering dead. all must bow to the superiority of the gigantic labor of the Caesars. as the guides alone are permitted to visit these monuments with torches in their hands. nor is it possible. while his less favored companion trod for the first time in his life the classic ground forming the monument of Flavius Vespasian. that wonder of all ages. at 432 . and more especially by moonlight. then. besides the ordinary cicerone. to his credit be it spoken. the young men made no attempt at resistance. at Rome. to avoid this abundant supply of guides. Albert had already made seven or eight similar excursions to the Colosseum. almost to each part of a monument. his mind.

therefore. who endeavored as much as possible to prevent his footsteps from being heard. upon which the moon was at that moment pouring a full tide of silvery brightness. whose rays are sufficiently clear and vivid to light the horizon with a glow equal to the soft twilight of an eastern clime. seated himself at the foot of a column. There was nothing remarkable in the circumstance of a fragment of granite giving way and falling heavily below. which permitted him to enjoy a full and undisturbed view of the gigantic dimensions of the majestic ruin. who. had emerged from a vomitarium at the opposite extremity of the Colosseum. abandoning Albert to the guides (who would by no means yield their prescriptive right of carrying their victims through the routine regularly laid down. was approaching the spot where he sat. resembling. beginning. Franz had remained for nearly a quarter of an hour perfectly hidden by the shadow of the vast column at whose base he had found a resting-place. to escape a jargon and mechanical survey of the wonders by which he was surrounded. and immediately opposite a large aperture. as they glided along. and finishing with Caesar’s “Podium. Conjecture soon became certainty. holding torches in their hands. and also that some one.which time the vast proportions of the building appear twice as large when viewed by the mysterious beams of a southern moonlit sky. but it seemed to him that the substance that fell gave way beneath the pressure of a foot. and from whence his eyes followed the motions of Albert and his guides. gradually emerging from the staircase opposite. had the reflective Franz walked a hundred steps beneath the interior porticoes of the ruin. with the Lions’ Den. for the figure of a man was distinctly visible to Franz. Franz ascended a half-dilapidated staircase. some restless shades following the flickering glare of so many ignes-fatui. and.”). All at once his ear caught a sound resembling that of a stone rolling down the staircase opposite the one by which he had himself ascended. as a matter of course. 433 . Scarcely. and then again disappeared down the steps conducting to the seats reserved for the Vestal virgins. leaving them to follow their monotonous round. than. but dragged the unconscious visitor to the various objects with a pertinacity that admitted of no appeal. and as regularly followed by them.

convinced Franz that he expected the arrival of some person. thrown over his left shoulder. and hung floating to and fro. for ages permitted a free entrance to the brilliant moonbeams that now illumined the vast pile. that rendered it impossible to distinguish his features. The lower part of his dress was more distinctly visible by the bright rays of the moon. he could only come to one conclusion. thickly studded with stars. one fold of which. although his dress was easily made out. which. From the imperfect means Franz had of judging. Some few minutes had elapsed. grew a quantity of creeping plants. and the figure of a man was clearly seen gazing with eager scrutiny on the immense space beneath him. By a sort of instinctive impulse. entering through the broken ceiling. Around this opening. – that the person whom he was thus watching certainly belonged to no inferior station of life. shed their refulgent beams on feet cased in elegantly made boots of polished leather. as his eye caught sight of him in the mantle. but the hesitation with which he proceeded. the roof had given way. About ten feet from the spot where he and the stranger were. like so many waving strings. while the upper part was completely hidden by his broad-brimmed hat. then. he grasped a floating mass of thickly matted boughs. served likewise to mask the lower part of his countenance. And his appearance had nothing extraordinary in it.The stranger thus presenting himself was probably a person who. possibly. and the stranger began to show manifest signs of impatience. The person whose mysterious arrival had attracted the attention of Franz stood in a kind of half-light. He wore a large brown mantle. which had. Franz withdrew as much as possible behind his pillar. and glided 434 . preferred the enjoyment of solitude and his own thoughts to the frivolous gabble of the guides. stopping and listening with anxious attention at every step he took. strong fibrous shoots forced their way through the chasm. when a slight noise was heard outside the aperture in the roof. and almost immediately a dark shadow seemed to obstruct the flood of light that had entered it. through which might be seen the blue vault of heaven. like Franz. over which descended fashionably cut trousers of black cloth. while large masses of thick. leaving a large round opening. whose delicate green branches stood out in bold relief against the clear azure of the firmament.

and I had an immense deal of trouble before I could get a chance to speak to Beppo. But even if you had caused me to wait a little while.” “Say not a word about being late. “‘tis I who am too soon.” “And who is Beppo?” “Oh.” “Indeed! You are a provident person.” said the man. “I beg your excellency’s pardon for keeping you waiting. ten o’clock his just struck on the Lateran. and he. “I came here direct from the Castle of St. and then leaped lightly on his feet. in the Roman dialect. as is customary at Rome at the commencement of all great festivals. and so help me out of prison.” said the man. and I give him so much a year to let me know what is going on within his holiness’s castle. I should have felt quite sure that the delay was not occasioned by any fault of yours. no one knows what may happen. “but I don’t think I’m many minutes after my time.” “Your excellency is perfectly right in so thinking. The man who had performed this daring act with so much indifference wore the Transtevere costume. I see. he is an atrocious villain. you see. like poor Peppino and may be very glad to have some little nibbling mouse to gnaw the meshes of my net.” 435 . The other sufferer is sentenced to be decapitato. what did you glean?” “That two executions of considerable interest will take place the day after to-morrow at two o’clock. One of the culprits will be mazzolato. your excellency. Perhaps some of these days I may be entrapped. who murdered the priest who brought him up.” replied the stranger in purest Tuscan. Angelo. is poor Peppino.” “Briefly. Beppo is employed in the prison.down by their help to within three or four feet of the ground. and deserves not the smallest pity.” “Why.

and. instead of being knocked on the head as you would be if once they caught hold of you. and that is.” “But Peppino did not even belong to my band: he was merely a poor shepherd.” “Which makes him your accomplice to all intents and purposes. the amusements of the day are diversified. too.” “Perhaps I am. by which means. he is simply sentenced to be guillotined. who has got into this scrape solely from having served me. by the assistance of their stilettos. “excuse me for saying that you seem to me precisely in the mood to commit some wild or extravagant act. that they are glad of all opportunity of making an example. but one thing I have resolved on. that you have inspired not only the pontifical government.” “That seems to me as hazardous as uncertain. I should hate and despise myself as a coward did I desert the brave fellow in his present extremity. with such extreme fear. who.” “Without reckoning the wholly unexpected one I am preparing to surprise them with. at a signal from me. whose only crime consisted in furnishing us with provisions. and there is a spectacle to please every spectator. But mark the distinction with which he is treated.” said the man in the cloak.” “And what do you mean to do?” “To surround the scaffold with twenty of my best men. drive back the guard.” “My good friend. to stop at nothing to restore a poor devil to liberty. and carry off the prisoner. will rush forward directly Peppino is brought for execution.” “And what is your excellency’s project?” 436 . and convinces me that my scheme is far better than yours. but also the neighboring states.“The fact is.

Leave me. I have engaged the three lower windows at the Cafe Rospoli.” “None whatever. that is very easily arranged. my good fellow. and blunderbusses included. and that you have but one day to work in. should I have obtained the requisite pardon for Peppino.” “At least. the two outside windows will be hung with yellow damasks. each hour into sixty minutes. then.000 piastres will afford him the means of escaping from his prison. carbines. and the centre with white. and every minute sub-divided into sixty seconds? Now in 86. and during that year. another skilfully placed 1. but rely upon my obtaining the reprieve I seek.400 seconds very many things can be done. having a large cross in red marked on it. suddenly expressing himself in French. to act. I will so advantageously bestow 2. “I said.” “Oh.000 piastres.” 437 . in case your excellency should fail. Take what precautions you please.“Just this. there can be no harm in myself and party being in readiness.” “And do you feel sure of succeeding?” “Pardieu!” exclaimed the man in the cloak. if it is any satisfaction to you to do so. pistols. that the person receiving them shall obtain a respite till next year for Peppino. and have no fears for the result.” “And how shall I know whether your excellency has succeeded or not. the execution is fixed for the day after tomorrow. “What did your excellency say?” inquired the other. that I would do more single-handed by the means of gold than you and all your troop could effect with stilettos.” “Remember.” “And what of that? Is not a day divided into twenty-four hours.

if it be only to prevent his dying of fear or losing his senses. who. only fulfil your promise of rescuing Peppino. on the word and faith of” – “Hush!” interrupted the stranger. because in either case a very useless expense will have been incurred. “I hear a noise. then. my good friend.” replied the cavalier in the cloak. are you not?” “Nay.” said the man.” “Have a care how far you pledge yourself.“And whom will you employ to carry the reprieve to the officer directing the execution?” “Send one of your men. and I will give it to him. “you are fully persuaded of my entire devotion to you. “Well. and henceforward you shall receive not only devotion. in the meantime.” “‘Tis some travellers. when I. it will be as well to acquaint Peppino with what we have determined on. not very distant period. for done it shall be. who are visiting the Colosseum by torchlight. your excellency will find me what I have found you in this my heavy trouble. His dress will procure him the means of approaching the scaffold itself. and he will deliver the official order to the officer.” “Let that day come sooner or later.” 438 . will hand it to the executioner. you may regard it as done. in my turn.” “Your excellency. perhaps. but the most absolute obedience from myself and those under me that one human being can render to another. for I may remind you of your promise at some. and if from the other end of the world you but write me word to do such or such a thing. I flatter myself that there can be no doubt of it. may require your aid and influence. in his turn. disguised as a penitent friar.

touching the iron-pointed nets used to prevent the ferocious beasts from springing on the spectators. I am sadly afraid both my reputation and credit would suffer thereby. who made the lofty building re-echo with the sound of his friend’s name. if once the extent of our intimacy were known. bearing a red cross. your excellency. Franz. then.“‘Twere better we should not be seen together. my good fellow. The next minute Franz heard himself called by Albert. use your daggers in any way you please. my worthy friend.” “And then?” “And then. then. Franz was on the road to the Piazza de Spagni. those guides are nothing but spies. did not obey the summons till he had satisfied himself that the two men whose conversation he had overheard were at a sufficient distance to prevent his encountering them in his descent. and might possibly recognize you. Adieu.” “We understand each other perfectly.” “And if you fail?” “Then all three windows will have yellow draperies. after the manner of Pliny and Calpurnius. and I further promise you to be there as a spectator of your prowess. and.” “Well. passed almost close to Franz. depend upon me as firmly as I do upon you. Franz let him proceed without 439 . if you obtain the reprieve?” “The middle window at the Cafe Rospoli will be hung with white damask. muffling his features more closely than before in the folds of his mantle. In ten minutes after the strangers had departed.” Saying these words. however. while his companion. and descended to the arena by an outward flight of steps. however I may be honored by your friendship. listening with studied indifference to the learned dissertation delivered by Albert. the Transteverin disappeared down the staircase.

judge that his appearance at such a time would be anything but agreeable. having a number of letters to write. the tones of his voice had made too powerful an impression on him the first time he had heard them for him ever again to forget them. and with that intent have sought to renew their short acquaintance. he longed to be alone. Worn out at length. Like a genuine Frenchman. in vain did he court the refreshment of sleep. relinquished the carriage to Albert for the whole 440 . was an entire stranger to him. Albert had employed his time in arranging for the evening’s diversion. and which he heard for the second time amid the darkness and ruined grandeur of the Colosseum. and Franz.” Under any other circumstances. whose mysterious meeting in the Colosseum he had so unintentionally witnessed. half bitter. he permitted his former host to retire without attempting a recognition. yet well-pitched voice that had addressed him in the grotto of Monte Cristo. the confidential nature of the conversation he had overheard made him. therefore. that Franz’s ear recalled most vividly the deep sonorous. but in the present instance. the firmer grew his opinion on the subject. he had sent to engage a box at the Teatro Argentino. in fact. and though Franz had been unable to distinguish his features. and. Franz would have found it impossible to resist his extreme curiosity to know more of so singular a personage. but fully promising himself a rich indemnity for his present forbearance should chance afford him another opportunity. from his being either wrapped in his mantle or obscured by the shadow. One of the two men. It was more especially when this man was speaking in a manner half jesting. with propriety. “Sinbad the Sailor. and the more he thought. the more entire was his conviction. In vain did Franz endeavor to forget the many perplexing thoughts which assailed him. he fell asleep at daybreak. As we have seen. did not hear what was said. Slumber refused to visit his eyelids and the night was passed in feverish contemplation of the chain of circumstances tending to prove the identity of the mysterious visitant to the Colosseum with the inhabitant of the grotto of Monte Cristo. hear them when or where he might. and free to ponder over all that had occurred. And the more he thought.interruption. that the person who wore the mantle was no other than his former host and entertainer. but not so the other. and did not awake till late.

of the day. as. had reason to consider themselves fortunate in having the opportunity of hearing one of the best works by the composer of “Lucia di Lammermoor. he had seen (as he called it) all the remarkable sights at Rome. his elegant toilet was wholly thrown away. in a single day he had accomplished what his more serious-minded companion would have taken weeks to effect. the most admired and most sought after of any young person of his day. and Neapolitans were all faithful. to think that Albert de Morcerf. At five o’clock Albert returned. the lovely Genoese. but. poor Albert! none of those interesting adventures fell in his way. and had received in return more invitations to balls and routs than it would be possible for him to accept. and the absence of balconies. Albert displayed his most dazzling and effective costumes each time he visited the theatres. Yes. alas. Neither had he neglected to ascertain the name of the piece to be played that night at the Teatro Argentino. and had shared a lower box at the Opera. and La Specchia. in spite of this. Alas. and that upon his return he should astonish the Parisian world with the recital of his numerous love-affairs. And the thing was so much the more annoying. he had been occupied in leaving his letters of introduction. Moriani. besides this. The young men. or open boxes. with their orchestras from which it is impossible to see. and his self-love immensely piqued. and one of the most worthy representatives of Parisian fashion had to carry with him the mortifying reflection that he had nearly overrun Italy without meeting with a single adventure. but internally he was deeply wounded. and merely have his labor for his pains. should thus be passed over. therefore.” supported by three of the most renowned vocalists of Italy. Florentines. delighted with his day’s work. Albert had quitted Paris with the full conviction that he had only to show himself in Italy to carry all before him. according to the characteristic modesty of a Frenchman. all these defects pressed hard on a man who had had his stall at the Bouffes. The opera of “Parisina” was announced for representation. and also what performers appeared in it. Still. if not to their 441 . Albert had never been able to endure the Italian theatres. and the principal actors were Coselli. Sometimes Albert would affect to make a joke of his want of success.

however. generally styled the “nobility’s boxes. moreover.husbands. he might not in truth attract the notice of some fair Roman. at least to their lovers. that they are faithful even in their infidelity. Rome is the spot where even the wisest and gravest throw off the usual rigidity of their lives. The box taken by Albert was in the first circle. and deign to mingle in the follies of this time of liberty and relaxation. besides being an elegant.” and although the box engaged for the two friends was sufficiently capacious to contain at least a dozen persons. Albert. was also possessed of considerable talent and ability. and exerted himself to set off his personal attractions by the aid of the most rich and elaborate toilet. it had cost less than would be paid at some of the French theatres for one admitting merely four occupants. but in the present day it is not necessary to go as far back as Noah in tracing a descent. With this design he had engaged a box in the most conspicuous part of the theatre. as elsewhere. he was a viscount – a recently created one. well-looking young man. It was therefore no small mortification to him to have visited most of the principal cities in Italy without having excited the most trifling observation. hoped to indemnify himself for all these slights and indifferences during the Carnival. and claims to notice. thus advantageously placed. a more than sufficient sum to render him a personage of considerable importance in Paris. but to crown all these advantages. and thought not of changing even for the splendid appearance of Albert de Morcerf. and an introduction might ensue that would procure him the offer of a seat in a 442 . certainly. therefore Albert had not an instant to lose in setting forth the programme of his hopes. knowing full well that among the different states and kingdoms in which this festivity is celebrated. and all he gained was the painful conviction that the ladies of Italy have this advantage over those of France. Another motive had influenced Albert’s selection of his seat.000 livres. Yet he could not restrain a hope that in Italy. The Carnival was to commence on the morrow. for this reason. there might be an exception to the general rule. whether dated from 1399 or merely 1815. and a genealogical tree is equally estimated. and is. Albert de Morcerf commanded an income of 50. Albert. although each of the three tiers of boxes is deemed equally aristocratic. expectations. – who knew but that.

a lady entered to whom Franz had been introduced in Paris. into whose good graces he was desirous of stealing. they quickly relapsed into their former state of preoccupation or interesting conversation. aided by a powerful opera-glass. she is perfectly lovely – what a complexion! And such magnificent hair! Is she French?” “No. or rouse themselves from their musings. he said hastily. turning to him. alas. or a place in a princely balcony. to listen to some brilliant effort of Moriani’s. he had imagined she still was. The quick eye of Albert caught the involuntary start with which his friend beheld the new arrival. a well-executed recitative by Coselli.” “And her name is – ” 443 . with the “holy week” that was to succeed it. were all so much engrossed with themselves. their lovers. from which he might behold the gayeties of the Carnival? These united considerations made Albert more lively and anxious to please than he had hitherto been. but that momentary excitement over. that the anticipated pleasures of the Carnival. what do you think of her?” “Oh. the door of a box which had been hitherto vacant was opened. or their own thoughts. where indeed. the spectators would suddenly cease their conversation. and it was but too apparent that the lovely creatures. a Venetian. The truth was. not even curiosity had been excited. Totally disregarding the business of the stage. Towards the close of the first act. but. “Do you know the woman who has just entered that box?” “Yes. this attempt to attract notice wholly failed. at certain conventional moments. that they had not so much as noticed him or the manipulation of his glass.carriage. as to prevent the least attention being bestowed even on the business of the stage. and. or to join in loud applause at the wonderful powers of La Specchia. The actors made their entries and exits unobserved or unthought of. he leaned from his box and began attentively scrutinizing the beauty of each pretty woman. so filled every fair breast.

” “You are mistaken in thinking so. indeed. “she is said to possess as much wit and cleverness as beauty. are you really on such good terms with her as to venture to take me to her box?” “Why.” “Is there. the countess perceived Franz.” 444 .” said Albert. nothing is more fallacious than to form any estimate of the degree of intimacy you may suppose existing among persons by the familiar terms they seem upon.“Countess G–– .” “Shall I assist you in repairing your negligence?” asked Franz. is it sympathy of heart?” “No. to which he replied by a respectful inclination of the head. but you know that even such an acquaintance as that might warrant my doing what you ask. “but you merely fall into the same error which leads so many of our countrymen to commit the most egregious blunders.” “Ah. of taste. I have only had the honor of being in her society and conversing with her three or four times in my life. “My dear fellow. by moonlight. “And in what manner has this congeniality of mind been evinced?” “By the countess’s visiting the Colosseum. and graciously waved her hand to him.” At that instant. I was to have been presented to her when I met her at Madame Villefort’s ball. believe me. there is a similarity of feeling at this instant between ourselves and the countess – nothing more.” continued Franz gravely. – I mean that of judging the habits and customs of Italy and Spain by our Parisian notions. as we did last night.” returned Franz calmly. “you seem to be on excellent terms with the beautiful countess. my good fellow? Pray tell me. and nearly alone. “Upon my word. I know her by name!” exclaimed Albert.

directly the curtain falls on the stage.” “And you will probably find your theme ill-chosen. breaking in upon his discourse. you know. and yet to find nothing better a talk about than the dead! All I can say is. I believe. the living should be my theme. they will. inelegant fellow he is. let us only remember the present.” “But what an awkward.” “But. or all but alone. what do you say to La Specchia? Did you ever see anything more perfect than her acting?” “Why. my dear fellow. on my soul.” “What a confounded time this first act takes.” “And what did you say to her?” “Oh. such singers as these don’t make the same impression on you they perhaps do on others. we talked of the illustrious dead of whom that magnificent ruin is a glorious monument!” “Upon my word.” “Well. only listen to that charming finale. with a beautiful woman in such a place of sentiment as the Colosseum. if ever I should get such a chance.” 445 . yes. then.“You were with her. then?” “I was. How exquisitely Coselli sings his part.” said Albert.” cried Albert. Are you not going to keep your promise of introducing me to the fair subject of our remarks?” “Certainly. that they never mean to finish it. when one has been accustomed to Malibran and Sontag. “you must have been a very entertaining companion alone. “never mind the past.” “Oh.

” said Franz. who had mutely interrogated the countess. arranged his cravat and wristbands. deeply grieved at having been prevented the honor of being presented to the countess during her sojourn in Paris. who. The countess. for in Paris and the circle in which the viscount moved. sought not to retard the gratification of Albert’s eager impatience. then.” The curtain at length fell on the performances. but began at once the tour of the house. bowed gracefully to Albert. while Albert continued to point his glass at every box in the theatre. ponderous appearance singing with a voice like a woman’s. rapidly passed his fingers through his hair. the door was immediately opened. This important task was just completed as they arrived at the countess’s box. in reply. instantly rose and surrendered his place to the strangers. inviting Albert to take the 446 . and had requested him (Franz) to remedy the past misfortune by conducting him to her box. nor did he say more than the truth. was most anxious to make up for it. to the infinite satisfaction of the Viscount of Morcerf. in turn.” “My good friend. and concluded by asking pardon for his presumption in having taken it upon himself to do so. who seized his hat. and extended her hand with cordial kindness to Franz. and the young man who was seated beside the countess. both as regarded his position in society and extraordinary talents. At the knock. Franz added that his companion. and to arrange the lappets of his coat. in obedience to the Italian custom. Franz presented Albert as one of the most distinguished young men of the day.” “I never fancied men of his dark. and signified to Franz that he was waiting for him to lead the way. closely followed by Albert. turning to him. Franz. would be expected to retire upon the arrival of other visitors. who availed himself of the few minutes required to reach the opposite side of the theatre to settle the height and smoothness of his collar. and received from her a gracious smile in token that he would be welcome. he was looked upon and cited as a model of perfection. “you seem determined not to approve. you must admire Moriani’s style and execution.“At least. you are really too difficult to please.

admirably arranged and put on the stage by Henri. for I saw her where she now sits the very first night of the season. I consider her perfectly lovely – she is just my idea of what Medora must have been. from the ease and grace with which she wore it. unwilling to interfere with the pleasure he so evidently felt. which was one of those excellent specimens of the Italian school. speaking to the countess of the various persons they both knew there.” replied the countess. Franz perceived how completely he was in his element. from the principal dancers to the humblest 447 . and began in his turn to survey the audience. she recommended Franz to take the next best.” Franz and the countess exchanged a smile. since beauty such as hers was well worthy of being observed by either sex. Sitting alone. and then the latter resumed her conversation with Albert. in the front of a box immediately opposite. but situated on the third row. to inquire of the former if she knew who was the fair Albanian opposite. “All I can tell about her. and pointed to the one behind her own chair. but in deep shadow. which evidently. “is. was a woman of exquisite beauty. was her national attire. Albert was soon deeply engrossed in discoursing upon Paris and Parisian matters. and since then she has never missed a performance. Sometimes she is accompanied by the person who is now with her. while Franz returned to his previous survey of the house and company. that she has been at Rome since the beginning of the season.” “And what do you think of her personal appearance?” “Oh. The curtain rose on the ballet. who has established for himself a great reputation throughout Italy for his taste and skill in the choreographic art – one of those masterly productions of grace. and at others she is merely attended by a black servant. dressed in a Greek costume. was the outline of a masculine figure. took up Albert’s glass. and elegance in which the whole corps de ballet. method.vacant seat beside her. Behind her. and. but the features of this latter personage it was not possible to distinguish. if he wished to view the ballet. Franz could not forbear breaking in upon the apparently interesting conversation passing between the countess and Albert.

not even when the furious. Most of my readers are aware that the second act of “Parisina” opens with the celebrated and effective duet in which Parisina. as far as appearances might be trusted. who turned around to say a few words to him. and a hundred and fifty persons may be seen exhibiting the same attitude. that. betrays to Azzo the secret of her love for Ugo. Owing to the very judicious plan of dividing the two acts of the opera with a ballet. and his eyes turned from the box containing the Greek girl and her strange companion to watch the business of the stage. unanimous plaudits of an enthusiastic and delighted audience. never even moved. animated looks contrasting strongly with the utter indifference of her companion. The injured husband goes through 448 . the singers in the opera having time to repose themselves and change their costume. The countenance of the person who had addressed her remained so completely in the shade. one act of volition. are all engaged on the stage at the same time. and the attention of Franz was attracted by the actors. the pauses between the performances are very short. while sleeping.supernumerary. during the whole time the piece lasted. and. while the dancers are executing their pirouettes and exhibiting their graceful steps. or elevating the same arm or leg with a simultaneous movement. Of this he took no heed. but was. while she seemed to experience an almost childlike delight in watching it. leaning forward again on the railing of her box. Franz was too deeply occupied with the beautiful Greek to take any note of it. though Franz tried his utmost. at the first sound of the leader’s bow across his violin. The ballet at length came to a close. she became as absorbed as before in what was going on. and the curtain fell amid the loud. her eager. and then. he could not distinguish a single feature.” However much the ballet might have claimed his attention. influenced the moving mass – the ballet was called “Poliska. The curtain rose. when necessary. Franz observed the sleeper slowly arise and approach the Greek girl. that would lead you to suppose that but one mind. enjoying soft repose and bright celestial dreams. The overture to the second act began. who. and Chinese bells sounded their loudest from the orchestra. crashing din produced by the trumpets. cymbals.

Franz now listened to it for the third time. and whose voice and figure had seemed so familiar to him. for he left his seat to stand up in front. “I asked you a short time since if you knew any particulars respecting the Albanian lady opposite. in a frenzy of rage and indignation. and was about to join the loud. and the very same person he had encountered the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum. All doubt of his identity was now at an end. but suddenly his purpose was arrested.” answered the countess. his countenance being fully revealed. for the countess. his singular host evidently resided at Rome. Excited beyond his usual calm demeanor. he awakens his guilty wife to tell her that he knows her guilt and to threaten her with his vengeance. “Countess. after gazing with a puzzled look at his face. and then. “I know no more of him than yourself. so tenderly expressive and fearfully grand as the wretched husband and wife give vent to their different griefs and passions. so that. and the half-uttered “bravos” expired on his lips.” replied Franz.” returned Franz. 449 . enthusiastic applause that followed. thrilled through the soul of Franz with an effect equal to his first emotions upon hearing it.all the emotions of jealousy.” “Perhaps you never before noticed him?” “What a question – so truly French! Do you not know that we Italians have eyes only for the man we love?” “True. yet its notes. Franz rose with the audience. The occupant of the box in which the Greek girl sat appeared to share the universal admiration that prevailed. Franz had no difficulty in recognizing him as the mysterious inhabitant of Monte Cristo. his hands fell by his sides. The surprise and agitation occasioned by this full confirmation of Franz’s former suspicion had no doubt imparted a corresponding expression to his features. I must now beseech you to inform me who and what is her husband?” “Nay. This duet is one of the most beautiful. and begged to know what had happened. until conviction seizes on his mind. totally unheeding her raillery. expressive and terrible conceptions that has ever emanated from the fruitful pen of Donizetti. burst into a fit of laughter.

as though an involuntary shudder passed through her veins.” said Franz. felt the same unaccountable awe and misgiving. or what?” “I fancy I have seen him before. “I must positively find out who and what he is. “No. seems to me as though he had just been dug up. for heaven’s sake. and wholly uninterested person. that he is no other than Lord Ruthven himself in a living form. he looks more like a corpse permitted by some friendly grave-digger to quit his tomb for a while. “that those who have once seen that man will never be likely to forget him.“All I can say is. How ghastly pale he is!” “Oh. tell us all about – is he a vampire. “what do you think of our opposite neighbor?” “Why. Oh.” inquired Franz. another.” This fresh allusion to Byron drew a smile to Franz’s countenance. it would be the presence of such a man as the mysterious personage before him.” said Franz.” 450 . pray do. and I even think he recognizes me. I cannot permit you to go. after the countess had a second time directed her lorgnette at the box. taking up the lorgnette. “Well. or a resuscitated corpse. he is always as colorless as you now see him.” cried the countess. indeed. “you must not leave me. “Then you know him?” almost screamed the countess.” “And I can well understand. whose history I am unable to furnish. and revisit this earth of ours. than anything human. and directing it toward the box in question. “that the gentleman.” said the countess. although he could but allow that if anything was likely to induce belief in the existence of vampires.” The sensation experienced by Franz was evidently not peculiar to himself. “Oh. rising from his seat. shrugging up her beautiful shoulders. no. I depend upon you to escort me home.” continued the countess.

Franz could even feel her arm tremble as he assisted her into the carriage. I have a party at my house to-night. “and do not be so very headstrong. It was quite evident. and Franz himself could not resist a feeling of superstitious dread – so much the stronger in him. on the contrary. Then observe. “Listen to me. “that you entertain any fear?” “I’ll tell you.” There was nothing else left for Franz to do but to take up his hat. originally created in her mind by the wild tales she had listened to till she believed them truths. unearthly fire seems burning. For that purpose I mean to keep you all to myself. large bright.“Is it possible. glittering eyes. or where she comes from. like himself. “but that horrid man had made me 451 . I am going home. he is the exact personification of what I have been led to expect! The coal-black hair. for many reasons. “Byron had the most perfect belief in the existence of vampires. that her uneasiness was not feigned.” said the countess. pursue your researches if you will. too. I cannot for one instant believe you so devoid of gallantry as to refuse a lady your escort when she even condescends to ask you for it. Now.” whispered Franz. but to-night you neither can nor shall. I entreat of you not to go near him – at least to-night. in which a wild. that the woman with him is altogether unlike all others of her sex. by her manner. and if to-morrow your curiosity still continues as great. while the terror of the countess sprang from an instinctive belief. “Excuse my little subterfuge. open the door of the box.” said the countess. in reply to her companion’s halfreproachful observation on the subject. her own return before the appointed hour seemed greatly to astonish the servants. She is a foreigner – a stranger. and offer the countess his arm.” answered the countess. and therefore cannot possibly remain till the end of the opera.” Franz protested he could not defer his pursuit till the following day. and is. and even assured me that he had seen them. Franz perceived that she had deceived him when she spoke of expecting company. a dealer in magical arts. No doubt she belongs to the same horrible race he does. Oh. The description he gave me perfectly corresponds with the features and character of the man before us. – the same ghastly paleness. Nobody knows who she is. as it arose from a variety of corroborative recollections. Upon arriving at her hotel.

“do not smile. and I am sure it does not spring from your heart. from whence he came. it ill accords with the expression of your countenance. and whither he is going. Upon his return to the hotel. However.” “What is it?” “Promise me. Pursue your chase after him to-morrow as eagerly as you please. then. “My dear fellow.” 452 . and make no attempt to follow this man to-night. except relinquish my determination of finding out who this man is.feel quite uncomfortable.” “Where he comes from I am ignorant. without the least doubt. I am quite sure I shall not be able to close my eyes. that I might compose my startled mind.” “I will do anything you desire. leaving him unable to decide whether she were merely amusing herself at his expense. the countess quitted Franz. springing up.” Franz essayed to smile. Franz found Albert in his dressing-gown and slippers. but I can readily tell you where he is going to. or whether her fears and agitations were genuine. “Nay.” So saying.” cried he.” “Let us only speak of the promise you wished me to make. smoking a cigar. I have more reasons than you can imagine for desiring to know who he is. For heaven’s sake. For my own part. goodnight.” said she. promise me one thing.” said Franz. do not serve as a conductor between that man and me. and try to sleep away all recollections of this evening. if you would not see me die of terror. “is it really you? Why. and that is down below. I say. go to your rooms. but never bring him near me. “Well. And now. and I longed to be alone. listlessly extended on a sofa. you must give me your word to return immediately to your hotel. There are certain affinities between the persons we quit and those we meet afterwards. I did not expect to see you before to-morrow.

I don’t know whether I ever told you that when I was at college I was rather – rather strong in Greek.” Franz smiled. for he well remembered that Albert particularly prided himself on the entire absence of color in his own complexion. “I am glad of this opportunity to tell you. Did he speak in your hearing? and did you catch any of his words?” “I did.” replied Franz. He was rather too pale. they are made by a first-rate Paris tailor – probably Blin or Humann. certainly. I knew that from the mixture of Greek words. I feel quite sure. is because they live so much in public. but then. did he?” 453 . Why. that tends to confirm my own ideas. for my part. you must have perceived that the countess was really alarmed.” “At what? At the sight of that respectable gentleman sitting opposite to us in the same box with the lovely Greek girl? Now. Why. but they were uttered in the Romaic dialect. if a Parisian were to indulge in a quarter of these marks of flattering attention. paleness is always looked upon as a strong proof of aristocratic descent and distinguished breeding. I can assure you that this hobgoblin of yours is a deuced fine-looking fellow – admirably dressed. you know. “Well.” “And the very reason why the women of this fine country put so little restraint on their words and actions. “that the countess’s suspicions were destitute alike of sense and reason. and have really nothing to conceal. here – they give you their hand – they press yours in return – they keep up a whispering conversation – permit you to accompany them home.” “Upon my soul. I met them in the lobby after the conclusion of the piece. once and forever.” “He spoke the Romaic language.” said Franz. from the cut of his clothes. that you entertain a most erroneous notion concerning Italian women. and hang me. if I can guess where you took your notions of the other world from. these women would puzzle the very Devil to read them aright. her reputation would be gone forever. Besides.“My dear Albert. Indeed. I should have thought the continual failures you have met with in all your own love affairs might have taught you better by this time.

Sir Franz.” “Indeed.” “That settles it.” murmured Franz. But tell me.” “Now. Of what nature?” “Why. “you deserve to be called out for such a misgiving and incredulous glance as that you were pleased to bestow on me just now. that obtaining a carriage is out of the question?” “I do.” “Well. I was arranging a little surprise for you. nothing. then. do you not.” “And I promise to give you the satisfaction of a gentleman if your scheme turns out as ingenious as you assert. then. what were you thinking about when I came in?” “Oh.” “Certainly. you know it is quite impossible to procure a carriage.” “I listen.” “You agree.” cried Albert. in this difficulty a bright idea has flashed across my brain.” “What do you say?” “Nothing. past all doubt.” “Neither can we procure horses?” 454 . hearken to me. “‘Tis he. “I tell you what.” Franz looked at Albert as though he had not much confidence in the suggestions of his imagination.“I think so. and I also know that we have done all that human means afforded to endeavor to get one.

Ha. “this time. when I bade him have the horns of the oxen gilded. and if you and I dress ourselves as Neapolitan reapers. like so many lazzaroni. ha. One thing I was sorry for. because no carriages or horses are to be had in your beggarly city. but have failed. trot at the heels of your processions. I am bound to give you credit for having hit upon a most capital idea.” “And a pair of oxen?” “As easily found as the cart. now. But you don’t know us.” “Very possibly. “A mere masque borrowed from our own festivities. The cart must be tastefully ornamented. He assured me that nothing would be easier than to furnish all I desired.” “Well.” “And have you communicated your triumphant idea to anybody?” “Only to our host. with a cart and a couple of oxen our business can be managed.” “And quite a national one. unhappy strangers. we may get up a striking tableau. and I then explained to him what I wished to procure. too. we have offered any sum. more especially as the countess is quite beautiful enough to represent a madonna.” “Well. Albert. Upon my return home I sent for him. he told me there would 455 .” “Then you see. It would add greatly to the effect if the countess would join us in the costume of a peasant from Puzzoli or Sorrento. what do you say to a cart? I dare say such a thing might be had. Our group would then be quite complete. my good fellow. when we can’t have one thing we invent another. after the manner of that splendid picture by Leopold Robert. ye Romans! you thought to make us.“True.” replied Albert with gratified pride.” said Franz.

” asked Albert eagerly. “Permesso?” inquired he.” responded the landlord. there’s a worthy fellow. swelling with importance.” “Then he will be able to give us an answer to-night.” cried Franz. “Certainly – certainly. mine host. and the head of Signor Pastrini appeared. “Take care. so you see we must do without this little superfluity. by to-morrow it might be too late. “better is a sure enemy to well.” “Let your excellencies only leave the matter to me.” said Albert.” “Gone out in search of our equipage.” returned Signor Pastrini in a tone indicative of unbounded self-confidence. with the air of a man perfectly well satisfied with himself. “But what have you done?” asked Franz.” “Your excellencies are aware. “Speak out.” “And where is he now?” “Who?” “Our host.not be time.” At this instant the door opened. “have you found the desired cart and oxen?” “Better than that!” replied Signor Pastrini. I expect him every minute. “that the Count of Monte Cristo is living on the same floor with yourselves!” 456 . as it would require three days to do that.” “Oh. my worthy host. then.” “Now. “Come in.

” said Franz. from the Count of Monte Cristo to Viscomte Albert de Morcerf and M.” “When. the Count of Monte Cristo. “A very great nobleman.” whispered Albert. “But do you think.” “It seems to me. speaking in an undertone to Albert. he said.” The friends looked at each other with unutterable surprise.“I should think we did know it. Franz. then. but this I know. placing two cards in the landlord’s hands. that he is noble as a Borghese and rich as a gold-mine. “there is not much to find fault with here. “Come in. “since it is owing to that circumstance that we are packed into these small rooms. who forthwith presented them to the two young men.” said Franz. and. and not permitted it to be brought to us in this unceremonious way. has sent to offer you seats in his carriage and two places at his windows in the Palazzo Rospoli. “that if this person merited the high panegyrics of our landlord.” 457 .” continued the servant. like two poor students in the back streets of Paris. he would have conveyed his invitation through another channel. He would have written – or” – At this instant some one knocked at the door.” exclaimed Albert. wearing a livery of considerable style and richness. appeared at the threshold.” “Faith. “begs these gentlemen’s permission to wait upon them as their neighbor. “Please to deliver these.” asked Albert. but whether Maltese or Sicilian I cannot exactly say. Franz d’Epinay. hearing of the dilemma in which you are placed. The Count of Monte Cristo. A servant. “that we ought to accept such offers from a perfect stranger?” “What sort of person is this Count of Monte Cristo?” asked Franz of his host. and he will be honored by an intimation of what time they will please to receive him.

” said Albert. who presented himself with his accustomed obsequiousness. that the mention of two places in the Palazzo Rospoli had recalled to Franz the conversation he had overheard the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum between the mysterious unknown and the Transteverin. The Count of Monte Cristo is unquestionably a man of first-rate breeding and knowledge of the world. was still soundly asleep. I agree with you. and in waking speculations as to what the morrow would produce.“Tell the count. Signor Pastrini. the Count of Monte Cristo. Eight o’clock found Franz up and dressed. in which the stranger in the cloak had undertaken to obtain the freedom of a condemned criminal. the windows in the Palazzo Rospoli alone decided me. who had not the same motives for early rising. Franz?” “Oh. I don’t know but what I should have held on by my original plan. “That is what I call an elegant mode of attack. it was very certain he could not escape this time. The next day must clear up every doubt. 458 . and by its power was able to render himself invisible. then he should be able to establish his identity.” The truth was. “that we will do ourselves the pleasure of calling on him. “Of course we do. by way of recompense for the loss of our beautiful scheme. and if this muffled-up individual proved (as Franz felt sure he would) the same as the person he had just seen in the Teatro Argentino. while Albert.” The servant bowed and retired. I must own I am sorry to be obliged to give up the cart and the group of reapers – it would have produced such an effect! And were it not for the windows at the Palazzo Rospoli. possessed the ring of Gyges.” replied Franz. Franz passed the night in confused dreams respecting the two meetings he had already had with his mysterious tormentor. “You were quite correct in what you said. and also to prosecute his researches respecting him with perfect facility and freedom. and unless his near neighbor and would-be friend. What say you. The first act of Franz was to summon his landlord.” “Then you accept his offer?” said the host.” replied Albert. “Still.

you are much too late. on which is pasted up a paper containing the names of the condemned persons.” answered Franz. I might have done so from Monte Pincio – could I not?” “Ah!” exclaimed mine host.” “Very possibly I may not go. and. their names.” answered Franz. The reason for so publicly announcing all this is. your excellency! Only a few minutes ago they brought me the tavolettas.” “That happens just lucky. but if your reason for inquiry is that you may procure a window to view it from. give me some particulars of to-day’s executions. no. that all good and faithful Catholics may offer up their prayers for the unfortunate culprits. “but in case I feel disposed.” 459 . they consider as exclusively belonging to themselves. “I had no such intention. “is not some execution appointed to take place to-day?” “Yes.” “Oh. beseech of heaven to grant them a sincere repentance. above all. Signor Pastrini.” “What particulars would your excellency like to hear?” “Why. “I did not think it likely your excellency would have chosen to mingle with such a rabble as are always collected on that hill. indeed.” “What are they?” “Sort of wooden tablets hung up at the corners of streets the evening before an execution. and mode of punishment. the number of persons condemned to suffer. their crimes. which. and description of the death they are to die.” asked Franz.“Pray. your excellency. and even if I had felt a wish to witness the spectacle.

” returned the landlord.” cried Franz. oblige me by a sight of one of these tavolettas. otherwise called Rocca Priori. but I make an agreement with the man who pastes up the papers. that in case any person staying at my hotel should like to witness an execution. “Oh. Meanwhile.” “Nothing can be easier than to comply with your excellency’s wish. are they?” asked Franz somewhat incredulously. opening the door of the chamber. “I have caused one to be placed on the landing. named Don Cesare Torlini. my most excellent host. he may obtain every requisite information concerning the time and place etc. and Peppino. and he brings them to me as he would the playbills. by order of the Tribunal of the Rota.” said the landlord. executions will take place in the Piazza del Popolo. canon of the church of St.” Then. who read as follows: – “‘The public is informed that on Wednesday. Signor Pastrini. close by your apartment. and his band. your excellency! I have not time for anybody’s affairs but my own and those of my honorable guests.“And these tablets are brought to you that you may add your prayers to those of the faithful. “I think I may take upon myself to say I neglect nothing to deserve the support and patronage of the noble visitors to this poor hotel. named Andrea Rondola. “Why. being the first day of the Carnival. no. 460 .” “I see that plainly enough. of two persons. dear. taking the tablet from the wall. John Lateran.” “Upon my word. your excellency. he handed it to Franz. and the latter convicted of being an accomplice of the atrocious and sanguinary bandit. Luigi Vampa. The first-named malefactor will be subjected to the mazzuola. the former found guilty of the murder of a venerable and exemplary priest. chuckling and rubbing his hands with infinite complacency. February 23d. and you may rely upon me to proclaim so striking a proof of your attention to your guests wherever I go. that is a most delicate attention on your part.

if it be so.” “Let us go and return our best thanks for his courtesy. I will take all the blame on myself if you find I have led you into an error. Time was getting on. and the man shrouded in the mantle the same he had known as “Sinbad the Sailor.” said Franz. but at the moment he prepared to proceed to his chamber.” replied he. my excellent Signor Pastrini. The prayers of all good Christians are entreated for these unfortunate men.’“ This was precisely what Franz had heard the evening before in the ruins of the Colosseum. was still pursuing his philanthropic expedition in Rome. In all probability. then.” 461 . “The Count of Monte Cristo is always an early riser. the Transteverin was no other than the bandit Luigi Vampa himself. all agreed with his previous information. The anticipated delights of the Carnival had so run in his head as to make him leave his pillow long before his usual hour. are you ready. therefore. – the names of the condemned persons. and to grant them a hearty and sincere repentance for their crimes. no doubt. “since we are both ready. however. his friend entered the room in perfect costume for the day. addressing his landlord.” “Well. No part of the programme differed. as he had already done at Porto-Vecchio and Tunis.” “Then you really consider we shall not be intruding if we pay our respects to him directly?” “Oh. and Franz deemed it advisable to awaken Albert. and I can answer for his having been up these two hours. I am quite sure. that it may please God to awaken them to a sense of their guilt. do you think we may proceed at once to visit the Count of Monte Cristo?” “Most assuredly. “Now. and mode of punishment. Albert?” “Perfectly.” but who. their crimes.the second culprit beheaded.

furnished in a luxurious manner they had not expected to see under the roof of Signor Pastrini. said. upon my soul. “I signori Francesi.” said the man. “I will let the count know that you are here.” And with these words he disappeared behind one of the tapestried portieres. and the owner of all these riches stood before the two young men.” “Hush. let us do so. but was almost immediately lost. and invited them to enter. he heard the sound of a door turning on its hinges. easy-chairs. “we shall ascertain who and what he is – he comes!” As Franz spoke. Everything seemed more magnificent at a second view than it had done at their first rapid survey. “Well. They passed through two rooms. intermingled with magnificent trophies of war. or some prince travelling incog. rang at the bell. and sofas.“Yes. and almost immediately afterwards the tapestry was drawn aside. and the softest and most inviting couches. Splendid paintings by the first masters were ranged against the walls. the sound of a guzla reached the ears of the young men.” The landlord preceded the friends across the landing. while heavy curtains of costly tapestry were suspended before the different doors of the room. it strikes me that our elegant and attentive neighbor must either be some successful stock-jobber who has speculated in the fall of the Spanish funds. As the door opened. offered their high-piled and yielding cushions to such as desired repose or refreshment. The richest Turkey carpets covered the floor. which was all that separated them from the apartments of the count. Franz and Albert looked inquiringly at each other. then at the gorgeous furnishings of the apartment. and. upon the door being opened by a servant. Albert 462 . “If your excellencies will please to be seated. for the rapid closing of the door merely allowed one rich swell of harmony to enter. hush!” replied Franz.” said Franz to his friend. and were shown into an elegantly fitted-up drawing-room. my dear fellow.” The domestic bowed respectfully. “what think you of all this?” “Why.

but also his extraordinary host of Monte Cristo. in a manner. and the occupant of the box at the Teatro Argentino.instantly rose to meet him. spellbound on his chair. 463 . for in the person of him who had just entered he recognized not only the mysterious visitant to the Colosseum. but Franz remained.

Chapter 35: La Mazzolata. he was master of the count’s secret. and we were on the point of inventing a very fantastic vehicle when your friendly invitation reached us. As soon as I learned I could in any way assist you. while the count had no hold on Franz. he did not know whether to make any allusion to the past. Franz had. besides.” “Franz and I have to thank you a thousand times.” The two young men bowed. found nothing to say. “It was the fault of that blockhead Pastrini. he resolved to lead the conversation to a subject which might possibly clear up his doubts. you sent me word that you would come to me. who had nothing to conceal. I most eagerly seized the opportunity of offering my services.” returned the count. that I did not sooner assist you in your distress. he had this advantage. Moreover. besides. “I pray you excuse me for suffering my visit to be anticipated. and as nothing in the count’s manner manifested the wish that he should recognize him. He resolved. However. I seek every opportunity of making the acquaintance of my neighbors. he could not be equally positive that this was the man he had seen at the Colosseum. therefore. or wait until he had more proof. as yet. and I have held myself at your disposal. although sure it was he who had been in the box the previous evening.” returned Albert. when he knows that. he had come to no determination. to let things take their course without making any direct overture to the count. motioning the two young men to sit down. “you extricated us from a great dilemma. 464 . but I feared to disturb you by presenting myself earlier at your apartments.” “Indeed. alone and isolated as I am. “Gentlemen. He did not mention a syllable of your embarrassment to me. count.” said the Count of Monte Cristo as he entered.

“Count,” said he, “you have offered us places in your carriage, and at your windows in the Rospoli Palace. Can you tell us where we can obtain a sight of the Piazza del Popolo?” “Ah,” said the count negligently, looking attentively at Morcerf, “is there not something like an execution upon the Piazza del Popolo?” “Yes,” returned Franz, finding that the count was coming to the point he wished. “Stay, I think I told my steward yesterday to attend to this; perhaps I can render you this slight service also.” He extended his hand, and rang the bell thrice. “Did you ever occupy yourself,” said he to Franz, “with the employment of time and the means of simplifying the summoning your servants? I have. When I ring once, it is for my valet; twice, for my majordomo; thrice, for my steward, – thus I do not waste a minute or a word. Here he is.” A man of about forty-five or fifty entered, exactly resembling the smuggler who had introduced Franz into the cavern; but he did not appear to recognize him. It was evident he had his orders. “Monsieur Bertuccio,” said the count, “you have procured me windows looking on the Piazza del Popolo, as I ordered you yesterday.” “Yes, excellency,” returned the steward; “but it was very late.” “Did I not tell you I wished for one?” replied the count, frowning. “And your excellency has one, which was let to Prince Lobanieff; but I was obliged to pay a hundred” – “That will do – that will do, Monsieur Bertuccio; spare these gentlemen all such domestic arrangements. You have the window, that is sufficient. Give orders to the coachman; and be in readiness on the stairs to conduct us to it.” The steward bowed, and was about to quit the room. “Ah,” continued the count, “be good enough to ask Pastrini if he has received the tavoletta, and if he can send us an account of the execution.” 465

“There is no need to do that,” said Franz, taking out his tablets; “for I saw the account, and copied it down.” “Very well, you can retire, M. Bertuccio; but let us know when breakfast is ready. These gentlemen,” added he, turning to the two friends, “will, I trust, do me the honor to breakfast with me?” “But, my dear count,” said Albert, “we shall abuse your kindness.” “Not at all; on the contrary, you will give me great pleasure. You will, one or other of you, perhaps both, return it to me at Paris. M. Bertuccio, lay covers for three.” He then took Franz’s tablets out of his hand. “‘We announce,’ he read, in the same tone with which he would have read a newspaper, ‘that to-day, the 23d of February, will be executed Andrea Rondolo, guilty of murder on the person of the respected and venerated Don Cesare Torlini, canon of the church of St. John Lateran, and Peppino, called Rocca Priori, convicted of complicity with the detestable bandit Luigi Vampa, and the men of his band.’ Hum! ‘The first will be mazzolato, the second decapitato.’ Yes,” continued the count, “it was at first arranged in this way; but I think since yesterday some change has taken place in the order of the ceremony.” “Really?” said Franz. “Yes, I passed the evening at the Cardinal Rospigliosi’s, and there mention was made of something like a pardon for one of the two men.” “For Andrea Rondolo?” asked Franz. “No,” replied the count, carelessly; “for the other (he glanced at the tablets as if to recall the name), for Peppino, called Rocca Priori. You are thus deprived of seeing a man guillotined; but the mazzuola still remains, which is a very curious punishment when seen for the first time, and even the second, while the other, as you must know, is very simple. The mandaia never fails, never trembles, never strikes thirty times ineffectually, like the soldier who beheaded the Count of Chalais, and to 466

whose tender mercy Richelieu had doubtless recommended the sufferer. Ah,” added the count, in a contemptuous tone, “do not tell me of European punishments, they are in the infancy, or rather the old age, of cruelty.” “Really, count,” replied Franz, “one would think that you had studied the different tortures of all the nations of the world.” “There are, at least, few that I have not seen,” said the count coldly. “And you took pleasure in beholding these dreadful spectacles?” “My first sentiment was horror, the second indifference, the third curiosity.” “Curiosity – that is a terrible word.” “Why so? In life, our greatest preoccupation is death; is it not then, curious to study the different ways by which the soul and body can part; and how, according to their different characters, temperaments, and even the different customs of their countries, different persons bear the transition from life to death, from existence to annihilation? As for myself, I can assure you of one thing, – the more men you see die, the easier it becomes to die yourself; and in my opinion, death may be a torture, but it is not an expiation.” “I do not quite understand you,” replied Franz; “pray explain your meaning, for you excite my curiosity to the highest pitch.” “Listen,” said the count, and deep hatred mounted to his face, as the blood would to the face of any other. “If a man had by unheard-of and excruciating tortures destroyed your father, your mother, your betrothed, – a being who, when torn from you, left a desolation, a wound that never closes, in your breast, – do you think the reparation that society gives you is sufficient when it interposes the knife of the guillotine between the base of the occiput and the trapezal muscles of the murderer, and allows him 467

who has caused us years of moral sufferings to escape with a few moments of physical pain?” “Yes, I know,” said Franz, “that human justice is insufficient to console us; she can give blood in return for blood, that is all; but you must demand from her only what it is in her power to grant.” “I will put another case to you,” continued the count; “that where society, attacked by the death of a person, avenges death by death. But are there not a thousand tortures by which a man may be made to suffer without society taking the least cognizance of them, or offering him even the insufficient means of vengeance, of which we have just spoken? Are there not crimes for which the impalement of the Turks, the augers of the Persians, the stake and the brand of the Iroquois Indians, are inadequate tortures, and which are unpunished by society? Answer me, do not these crimes exist?” “Yes,” answered Franz; “and it is to punish them that duelling is tolerated.” “Ah, duelling,” cried the count; “a pleasant manner, upon my soul, of arriving at your end when that end is vengeance! A man has carried off your mistress, a man has seduced your wife, a man has dishonored your daughter; he has rendered the whole life of one who had the right to expect from heaven that portion of happiness God his promised to every one of his creatures, an existence of misery and infamy; and you think you are avenged because you send a ball through the head, or pass a sword through the breast, of that man who has planted madness in your brain, and despair in your heart. And remember, moreover, that it is often he who comes off victorious from the strife, absolved of all crime in the eyes of the world. No, no,” continued the count, “had I to avenge myself, it is not thus I would take revenge.” “Then you disapprove of duelling? You would not fight a duel?” asked Albert in his turn, astonished at this strange theory. 468

“Oh, yes,” replied the count; “understand me, I would fight a duel for a trifle, for an insult, for a blow; and the more so that, thanks to my skill in all bodily exercises, and the indifference to danger I have gradually acquired, I should be almost certain to kill my man. Oh, I would fight for such a cause; but in return for a slow, profound, eternal torture, I would give back the same, were it possible; an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, as the Orientalists say, – our masters in everything, – those favored creatures who have formed for themselves a life of dreams and a paradise of realities.” “But,” said Franz to the count, “with this theory, which renders you at once judge and executioner of your own cause, it would be difficult to adopt a course that would forever prevent your falling under the power of the law. Hatred is blind, rage carries you away; and he who pours out vengeance runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught.” “Yes, if he be poor and inexperienced, not if he be rich and skilful; besides, the worst that could happen to him would be the punishment of which we have already spoken, and which the philanthropic French Revolution has substituted for being torn to pieces by horses or broken on the wheel. What matters this punishment, as long as he is avenged? On my word, I almost regret that in all probability this miserable Peppino will not be beheaded, as you might have had an opportunity then of seeing how short a time the punishment lasts, and whether it is worth even mentioning; but, really this is a most singular conversation for the Carnival, gentlemen; how did it arise? Ah, I recollect, you asked for a place at my window; you shall have it; but let us first sit down to table, for here comes the servant to inform us that breakfast is ready.” As he spoke, a servant opened one of the four doors of the apartment, saying – “Al suo commodo!” The two young men arose and entered the breakfast-room. During the meal, which was excellent, and admirably served, Franz looked repeatedly at Albert, in order to observe the impressions which he doubted not had been made on him by the words of their entertainer; but whether with his usual carelessness he had paid but little attention to him, whether 469

the explanation of the Count of Monte Cristo with regard to duelling had satisfied him, or whether the events which Franz knew of had had their effect on him alone, he remarked that his companion did not pay the least regard to them, but on the contrary ate like a man who for the last four or five months had been condemned to partake of Italian cookery – that is, the worst in the world. As for the count, he just touched the dishes; he seemed to fulfil the duties of a host by sitting down with his guests, and awaited their departure to be served with some strange or more delicate food. This brought back to Franz, in spite of himself, the recollection of the terror with which the count had inspired the Countess G–– , and her firm conviction that the man in the opposite box was a vampire. At the end of the breakfast Franz took out his watch. “Well,” said the count, “what are you doing?” “You must excuse us, count,” returned Franz, “but we have still much to do.” “What may that be?” “We have no masks, and it is absolutely necessary to procure them.” “Do not concern yourself about that; we have, I think, a private room in the Piazza del Popolo; I will have whatever costumes you choose brought to us, and you can dress there.” “After the execution?” cried Franz. “Before or after, whichever you please.” “Opposite the scaffold?” “The scaffold forms part of the fete.” “Count, I have reflected on the matter,” said Franz, “I thank you for your courtesy, but I shall content myself with accepting a place in your carriage 470

and at your window at the Rospoli Palace, and I leave you at liberty to dispose of my place at the Piazza del Popolo.” “But I warn you, you will lose a very curious sight,” returned the count. “You will describe it to me,” replied Franz, “and the recital from your lips will make as great an impression on me as if I had witnessed it. I have more than once intended witnessing an execution, but I have never been able to make up my mind; and you, Albert?” “I,” replied the viscount, – “I saw Castaing executed, but I think I was rather intoxicated that day, for I had quitted college the same morning, and we had passed the previous night at a tavern.” “Besides, it is no reason because you have not seen an execution at Paris, that you should not see one anywhere else; when you travel, it is to see everything. Think what a figure you will make when you are asked, ‘How do they execute at Rome?’ and you reply, ‘I do not know’! And, besides, they say that the culprit is an infamous scoundrel, who killed with a log of wood a worthy canon who had brought him up like his own son. Diable, when a churchman is killed, it should be with a different weapon than a log, especially when he has behaved like a father. If you went to Spain, would you not see the bull-fight? Well, suppose it is a bull-fight you are going to see? Recollect the ancient Romans of the Circus, and the sports where they killed three hundred lions and a hundred men. Think of the eighty thousand applauding spectators, the sage matrons who took their daughters, and the charming Vestals who made with the thumb of their white hands the fatal sign that said, ‘Come, despatch the dying.’“ “Shall you go, then, Albert?” asked Franz. “Ma foi, yes; like you, I hesitated, but the count’s eloquence decides me.” “Let us go, then,” said Franz, “since you wish it; but on our way to the Piazza del Popolo, I wish to pass through the Corso. Is this possible, count?” 471

“On foot, yes, in a carriage, no.” “I will go on foot, then.” “Is it important that you should go that way?” “Yes, there is something I wish to see.” “Well, we will go by the Corso. We will send the carriage to wait for us on the Piazza del Popolo, by the Strada del Babuino, for I shall be glad to pass, myself, through the Corso, to see if some orders I have given have been executed.” “Excellency,” said a servant, opening the door, “a man in the dress of a penitent wishes to speak to you.” “Ah, yes” returned the count, “I know who he is, gentlemen; will you return to the salon? you will find good cigars on the centre table. I will be with you directly.” The young men rose and returned into the salon, while the count, again apologizing, left by another door. Albert, who was a great smoker, and who had considered it no small sacrifice to be deprived of the cigars of the Cafe de Paris, approached the table, and uttered a cry of joy at perceiving some veritable puros. “Well,” asked Franz, “what think you of the Count of Monte Cristo?” “What do I think?” said Albert, evidently surprised at such a question from his companion; “I think he is a delightful fellow, who does the honors of his table admirably; who has travelled much, read much, is, like Brutus, of the Stoic school, and moreover,” added he, sending a volume of smoke up towards the ceiling, “that he has excellent cigars.” Such was Albert’s opinion of the count, and as Franz well knew that Albert professed never to form an opinion except upon long reflection, he made no attempt to change it. “But,” said he, “did you observe one very singular thing?” 472

“What?” “How attentively he looked at you.” “At me?” “Yes.” – Albert reflected. “Ah,” replied he, sighing, “that is not very surprising; I have been more than a year absent from Paris, and my clothes are of a most antiquated cut; the count takes me for a provincial. The first opportunity you have, undeceive him, I beg, and tell him I am nothing of the kind.” Franz smiled; an instant after the count entered. “I am now quite at your service, gentlemen,” said he. “The carriage is going one way to the Piazza del Popolo, and we will go another; and, if you please, by the Corso. Take some more of these cigars, M. de Morcerf.” “With all my heart,” returned Albert; “Italian cigars are horrible. When you come to Paris, I will return all this.” “I will not refuse; I intend going there soon, and since you allow me, I will pay you a visit. Come, we have not any time to lose, it is half-past twelve – let us set off.” All three descended; the coachman received his master’s orders, and drove down the Via del Babuino. While the three gentlemen walked along the Piazza de Spagni and the Via Frattina, which led directly between the Fiano and Rospoli palaces, Franz’s attention was directed towards the windows of that last palace, for he had not forgotten the signal agreed upon between the man in the mantle and the Transtevere peasant. “Which are your windows?” asked he of the count, with as much indifference as he could assume. “The three last,” returned he, with a negligence evidently unaffected, for he could not imagine with what intention the question was put. Franz glanced rapidly towards the three windows. The side windows were hung with yellow damask, and the centre one with white damask and a red cross. The man in the mantle had kept his promise to the Transteverin, and there could now be no doubt that he was the count. The three windows were still untenanted. Preparations 473

were making on every side; chairs were placed, scaffolds were raised, and windows were hung with flags. The masks could not appear; the carriages could not move about; but the masks were visible behind the windows, the carriages, and the doors. Franz, Albert, and the count continued to descend the Corso. As they approached the Piazza del Popolo, the crowd became more dense, and above the heads of the multitude two objects were visible: the obelisk, surmounted by a cross, which marks the centre of the square, and in front of the obelisk, at the point where the three streets, del Babuino, del Corso, and di Ripetta, meet, the two uprights of the scaffold, between which glittered the curved knife of the mandaia. At the corner of the street they met the count’s steward, who was awaiting his master. The window, let at an exorbitant price, which the count had doubtless wished to conceal from his guests, was on the second floor of the great palace, situated between the Via del Babuino and the Monte Pincio. It consisted, as we have said, of a small dressing-room, opening into a bedroom, and, when the door of communication was shut, the inmates were quite alone. On chairs were laid elegant masquerade costumes of blue and white satin. “As you left the choice of your costumes to me,” said the count to the two friends, “I have had these brought, as they will be the most worn this year; and they are most suitable, on account of the confetti (sweetmeats), as they do not show the flour.” Franz heard the words of the count but imperfectly, and he perhaps did not fully appreciate this new attention to their wishes; for he was wholly absorbed by the spectacle that the Piazza del Popolo presented, and by the terrible instrument that was in the centre. It was the first time Franz had ever seen a guillotine, – we say guillotine, because the Roman mandaia is formed on almost the same model as the French instrument. The knife, which is shaped like a crescent, that cuts with the convex side, falls from a less height, and that is all the difference. Two men, seated on the movable plank on which the victim is laid, were eating their breakfasts, while waiting for the criminal. Their repast consisted apparently of bread and sausages. One of them lifted the plank, took out a flask of wine, drank 474

some, and then passed it to his companion. These two men were the executioner’s assistants. At this sight Franz felt the perspiration start forth upon his brow. The prisoners, transported the previous evening from the Carcere Nuovo to the little church of Santa Maria del Popolo, had passed the night, each accompanied by two priests, in a chapel closed by a grating, before which were two sentinels, who were relieved at intervals. A double line of carbineers, placed on each side of the door of the church, reached to the scaffold, and formed a circle around it, leaving a path about ten feet wide, and around the guillotine a space of nearly a hundred feet. All the rest of the square was paved with heads. Many women held their infants on their shoulders, and thus the children had the best view. The Monte Pincio seemed a vast amphitheatre filled with spectators; the balconies of the two churches at the corner of the Via del Babuino and the Via di Ripetta were crammed; the steps even seemed a parti-colored sea, that was impelled towards the portico; every niche in the wall held its living statue. What the count said was true – the most curious spectacle in life is that of death. And yet, instead of the silence and the solemnity demanded by the occasion, laughter and jests arose from the crowd. It was evident that the execution was, in the eyes of the people, only the commencement of the Carnival. Suddenly the tumult ceased, as if by magic, and the doors of the church opened. A brotherhood of penitents, clothed from head to foot in robes of gray sackcloth, with holes for the eyes, and holding in their hands lighted tapers, appeared first; the chief marched at the head. Behind the penitents came a man of vast stature and proportions. He was naked, with the exception of cloth drawers at the left side of which hung a large knife in a sheath, and he bore on his right shoulder a heavy iron sledge-hammer. This man was the executioner. He had, moreover, sandals bound on his feet by cords. Behind the executioner came, in the order in which they were to die, first Peppino and then Andrea. Each was accompanied by two priests. Neither had his eyes bandaged. Peppino walked with a firm step, doubtless aware of what awaited him. Andrea was supported by two priests. Each of them, from time to time, kissed the crucifix a confessor held out to them. At this sight alone Franz felt his legs tremble under him. He looked at Albert – he was as white as his shirt, and mechanically cast away his cigar, although he 475

had not half smoked it. The count alone seemed unmoved – nay, more, a slight color seemed striving to rise in his pale cheeks. His nostrils dilated like those of a wild beast that scents its prey, and his lips, half opened, disclosed his white teeth, small and sharp like those of a jackal. And yet his features wore an expression of smiling tenderness, such as Franz had never before witnessed in them; his black eyes especially were full of kindness and pity. However, the two culprits advanced, and as they approached their faces became visible. Peppino was a handsome young man of four or five and twenty, bronzed by the sun; he carried his head erect, and seemed on the watch to see on which side his liberator would appear. Andrea was short and fat; his visage, marked with brutal cruelty, did not indicate age; he might be thirty. In prison he had suffered his beard to grow; his head fell on his shoulder, his legs bent beneath him, and his movements were apparently automatic and unconscious. “I thought,” said Franz to the count, “that you told me there would be but one execution.” “I told you true,” replied he coldly. “And yet here are two culprits.” “Yes; but only one of these two is about to die; the other has many years to live.” “If the pardon is to come, there is no time to lose.” “And see, here it is,” said the count. At the moment when Peppino reached the foot of the mandaia, a priest arrived in some haste, forced his way through the soldiers, and, advancing to the chief of the brotherhood, gave him a folded paper. The piercing eye of Peppino had noticed all. The chief took the paper, unfolded it, and, raising his hand, “Heaven be praised, and his holiness also,” said he in a loud voice; “here is a pardon for one of the prisoners!”

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“A pardon!” cried the people with one voice – “a pardon!” At this cry Andrea raised his head. “Pardon for whom?” cried he. Peppino remained breathless. “A pardon for Peppino, called Rocca Priori,” said the principal friar. And he passed the paper to the officer commanding the carbineers, who read and returned it to him. “For Peppino!” cried Andrea, who seemed roused from the torpor in which he had been plunged. “Why for him and not for me? We ought to die together. I was promised he should die with me. You have no right to put me to death alone. I will not die alone – I will not!” And he broke from the priests struggling and raving like a wild beast, and striving desperately to break the cords that bound his hands. The executioner made a sign, and his two assistants leaped from the scaffold and seized him. “What is going on?” asked Franz of the count; for, as all the talk was in the Roman dialect, he had not perfectly understood it. “Do you not see?” returned the count, “that this human creature who is about to die is furious that his fellow-sufferer does not perish with him? and, were he able, he would rather tear him to pieces with his teeth and nails than let him enjoy the life he himself is about to be deprived of. Oh, man, man – race of crocodiles,” cried the count, extending his clinched hands towards the crowd, “how well do I recognize you there, and that at all times you are worthy of yourselves!” Meanwhile Andrea and the two executioners were struggling on the ground, and he kept exclaiming, “He ought to die! – he shall die! – I will not die alone!” “Look, look,” cried the count. seizing the young men’s hands – “look, for on my soul it is curious. Here is a man who had resigned himself to his fate, who was going to the scaffold to die – like a coward, it is true, but he was about to die without resistance. Do you know what gave him strength? – do you know what consoled him? It was, that another partook of his punishment – that another partook of his anguish – that another was to die before him. Lead two sheep to the butcher’s, two oxen to the slaughterhouse, and make one of them understand that his companion will not die; the sheep will bleat for pleasure, the ox will bellow with joy. But 477

man – man, whom God created in his own image – man, upon whom God has laid his first, his sole commandment, to love his neighbor – man, to whom God has given a voice to express his thoughts – what is his first cry when he hears his fellow-man is saved? A blasphemy. Honor to man, this masterpiece of nature, this king of the creation!” And the count burst into a laugh; a terrible laugh, that showed he must have suffered horribly to be able thus to laugh. However, the struggle still continued, and it was dreadful to witness. The people all took part against Andrea, and twenty thousand voices cried, “Put him to death! put him to death!” Franz sprang back, but the count seized his arm, and held him before the window. “What are you doing?” said he. “Do you pity him? If you heard the cry of ‘Mad dog!’ you would take your gun – you would unhesitatingly shoot the poor beast, who, after all, was only guilty of having been bitten by another dog. And yet you pity a man who, without being bitten by one of his race, has yet murdered his benefactor; and who, now unable to kill any one, because his hands are bound, wishes to see his companion in captivity perish. No, no – look, look!” The command was needless. Franz was fascinated by the horrible spectacle. The two assistants had borne Andrea to the scaffold, and there, in spite of his struggles, his bites, and his cries, had forced him to his knees. During this time the executioner had raised his mace, and signed to them to get out of the way; the criminal strove to rise, but, ere he had time, the mace fell on his left temple. A dull and heavy sound was heard, and the man dropped like an ox on his face, and then turned over on his back. The executioner let fall his mace, drew his knife, and with one stroke opened his throat, and mounting on his stomach, stamped violently on it with his feet. At every stroke a jet of blood sprang from the wound. This time Franz could contain himself no longer, but sank, half fainting, into a seat. Albert, with his eyes closed, was standing grasping the window-curtains. The count was erect and triumphant, like the Avenging Angel!

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Chapter 36: The Carnival at Rome.
When Franz recovered his senses, he saw Albert drinking a glass of water, of which, to judge from his pallor, he stood in great need; and the count, who was assuming his masquerade costume. He glanced mechanically towards the square – the scene was wholly changed; scaffold, executioners, victims, all had disappeared; only the people remained, full of noise and excitement. The bell of Monte Citorio, which only sounds on the pope’s decease and the opening of the Carnival, was ringing a joyous peal. “Well,” asked he of the count, “what has, then, happened?” “Nothing,” replied the count; “only, as you see, the Carnival his commenced. Make haste and dress yourself.” “In fact,” said Franz, “this horrible scene has passed away like a dream.” “It is but a dream, a nightmare, that has disturbed you.” “Yes, that I have suffered; but the culprit?” “That is a dream also; only he has remained asleep, while you have awakened; and who knows which of you is the most fortunate?” “But Peppino – what has become of him?” “Peppino is a lad of sense, who, unlike most men, who are happy in proportion as they are noticed, was delighted to see that the general attention was directed towards his companion. He profited by this distraction to slip away among the crowd, without even thanking the worthy priests who accompanied him. Decidedly man is an ungrateful and egotistical animal. But dress yourself; see, M. de Morcerf sets you the example.” Albert was drawing on the satin pantaloon over his black trousers and varnished boots. “Well, Albert,” said Franz, “do you feel much inclined to join the revels? Come, answer frankly.” 479

“Ma foi, no,” returned Albert. “But I am really glad to have seen such a sight; and I understand what the count said – that when you have once habituated yourself to a similar spectacle, it is the only one that causes you any emotion.” “Without reflecting that this is the only moment in which you can study character,” said the count; “on the steps of the scaffold death tears off the mask that has been worn through life, and the real visage is disclosed. It must be allowed that Andrea was not very handsome, the hideous scoundrel! Come, dress yourselves, gentlemen, dress yourselves.” Franz felt it would be ridiculous not to follow his two companions’ example. He assumed his costume, and fastened on the mask that scarcely equalled the pallor of his own face. Their toilet finished, they descended; the carriage awaited them at the door, filled with sweetmeats and bouquets. They fell into the line of carriages. It is difficult to form an idea of the perfect change that had taken place. Instead of the spectacle of gloomy and silent death, the Piazza del Popolo presented a spectacle of gay and noisy mirth and revelry. A crowd of masks flowed in from all sides, emerging from the doors, descending from the windows. From every street and every corner drove carriages filled with clowns, harlequins, dominoes, mummers, pantomimists, Transteverins, knights, and peasants, screaming, fighting, gesticulating, throwing eggs filled with flour, confetti, nosegays, attacking, with their sarcasms and their missiles, friends and foes, companions and strangers, indiscriminately, and no one took offence, or did anything but laugh. Franz and Albert were like men who, to drive away a violent sorrow, have recourse to wine, and who, as they drink and become intoxicated, feel a thick veil drawn between the past and the present. They saw, or rather continued to see, the image of what they had witnessed; but little by little the general vertigo seized them, and they felt themselves obliged to take part in the noise and confusion. A handful of confetti that came from a neighboring carriage, and which, while it covered Morcerf and his two companions with dust, pricked his neck and that portion of his face uncovered by his mask like a hundred pins, incited him to join in the general combat, in which all the masks around him were engaged. He rose in his turn, and seizing handfuls of confetti and 480

sweetmeats, with which the carriage was filled, cast them with all the force and skill he was master of. The strife had fairly begun, and the recollection of what they had seen half an hour before was gradually effaced from the young men’s minds, so much were they occupied by the gay and glittering procession they now beheld. As for the Count of Monte Cristo, he had never for an instant shown any appearance of having been moved. Imagine the large and splendid Corso, bordered from one end to the other with lofty palaces, with their balconies hung with carpets, and their windows with flags. At these balconies are three hundred thousand spectators – Romans, Italians, strangers from all parts of the world, the united aristocracy of birth, wealth, and genius. Lovely women, yielding to the influence of the scene, bend over their balconies, or lean from their windows, and shower down confetti, which are returned by bouquets; the air seems darkened with the falling confetti and flying flowers. In the streets the lively crowd is dressed in the most fantastic costumes – gigantic cabbages walk gravely about, buffaloes’ heads below from men’s shoulders, dogs walk on their hind legs; in the midst of all this a mask is lifted, and, as in Callot’s Temptation of St. Anthony, a lovely face is exhibited, which we would fain follow, but from which we are separated by troops of fiends. This will give a faint idea of the Carnival at Rome. At the second turn the Count stopped the carriage, and requested permission to withdraw, leaving the vehicle at their disposal. Franz looked up – they were opposite the Rospoli Palace. At the centre window, the one hung with white damask with a red cross, was a blue domino, beneath which Franz’s imagination easily pictured the beautiful Greek of the Argentina. “Gentlemen,” said the count, springing out, “when you are tired of being actors, and wish to become spectators of this scene, you know you have places at my windows. In the meantime, dispose of my coachman, my carriage, and my servants.” We have forgotten to mention, that the count’s coachman was attired in a bear-skin, exactly resembling Odry’s in “The Bear and the Pasha;” and the two footmen behind were dressed up as green monkeys, with spring masks, with which they made grimaces at every one who passed. Franz thanked the count for his attention. As for Albert, he was 481

busily occupied throwing bouquets at a carriage full of Roman peasants that was passing near him. Unfortunately for him, the line of carriages moved on again, and while he descended the Piazza del Popolo, the other ascended towards the Palazzo di Venezia. “Ah, my dear fellow,” said he to Franz; “you did not see?” “What?” “There, – that calash filled with Roman peasants.” “No.” “Well, I am convinced they are all charming women.” “How unfortunate that you were masked, Albert,” said Franz; “here was an opportunity of making up for past disappointments.” “Oh,” replied he, half laughing, half serious; “I hope the Carnival will not pass without some amends in one shape or the other.” But, in spite of Albert’s hope, the day passed unmarked by any incident, excepting two or three encounters with the carriage full of Roman peasants. At one of these encounters, accidentally or purposely, Albert’s mask fell off. He instantly rose and cast the remainder of the bouquets into the carriage. Doubtless one of the charming females Albert had detected beneath their coquettish disguise was touched by his gallantry; for, as the carriage of the two friends passed her, she threw a bunch of violets. Albert seized it, and as Franz had no reason to suppose it was meant for him, he suffered Albert to retain it. Albert placed it in his button-hole, and the carriage went triumphantly on. “Well,” said Franz to him; “there is the beginning of an adventure.” “Laugh if you please – I really think so. So I will not abandon this bouquet.” 482

“Pardieu,” returned Franz, laughing, “in token of your ingratitude.” The jest, however, soon appeared to become earnest; for when Albert and Franz again encountered the carriage with the contadini, the one who had thrown the violets to Albert, clapped her hands when she beheld them in his button-hole. “Bravo, bravo,” said Franz; “things go wonderfully. Shall I leave you? Perhaps you would prefer being alone?” “No,” replied he; “I will not be caught like a fool at a first disclosure by a rendezvous under the clock, as they say at the opera-balls. If the fair peasant wishes to carry matters any further, we shall find her, or rather, she will find us to-morrow; then she will give me some sign or other, and I shall know what I have to do.” “On my word,” said Franz, “you are wise as Nestor and prudent as Ulysses, and your fair Circe must be very skilful or very powerful if she succeed in changing you into a beast of any kind.” Albert was right; the fair unknown had resolved, doubtless, to carry the intrigue no farther; for although the young men made several more turns, they did not again see the calash, which had turned up one of the neighboring streets. Then they returned to the Rospoli Palace; but the count and the blue domino had also disappeared; the two windows, hung with yellow damask, were still occupied by the persons whom the count had invited. At this moment the same bell that had proclaimed the beginning of the mascherata sounded the retreat. The file on the Corso broke the line, and in a second all the carriages had disappeared. Franz and Albert were opposite the Via delle Maratte; the coachman, without saying a word, drove up it, passed along the Piazza di Spagni and the Rospoli Palace and stopped at the door of the hotel. Signor Pastrini came to the door to receive his guests. Franz hastened to inquire after the count, and to express regret that he had not returned in sufficient time; but Pastrini reassured him by saying that the Count of Monte Cristo had ordered a second carriage for himself, and that it had gone at four o’clock to fetch him from the Rospoli Palace. The count had, moreover, charged him to offer the two friends the key of his box at the Argentina. Franz questioned Albert as to his intentions; but Albert had great projects to put into execution before going to the theatre; 483

and instead of making any answer, he inquired if Signor Pastrini could procure him a tailor. “A tailor,” said the host; “and for what?” “To make us between now and to-morrow two Roman peasant costumes,” returned Albert. The host shook his head. “To make you two costumes between now and to-morrow? I ask your excellencies’ pardon, but this is quite a French demand; for the next week you will not find a single tailor who would consent to sew six buttons on a waistcoat if you paid him a crown a piece for each button.” “Then I must give up the idea?” “No; we have them ready-made. Leave all to me; and to-morrow, when you awake, you shall find a collection of costumes with which you will be satisfied.” “My dear Albert,” said Franz, “leave all to our host; he has already proved himself full of resources; let us dine quietly, and afterwards go and see ‘The Algerian Captive.’“ “Agreed,” returned Albert; “but remember, Signor Pastrini, that both my friend and myself attach the greatest importance to having to-morrow the costumes we have asked for.” The host again assured them they might rely on him, and that their wishes should be attended to; upon which Franz and Albert mounted to their apartments, and proceeded to disencumber themselves of their costumes. Albert, as he took off his dress, carefully preserved the bunch of violets; it was his token reserved for the morrow. The two friends sat down to table; but they could not refrain from remarking the difference between the Count of Monte Cristo’s table and that of Signor Pastrini. Truth compelled Franz, in spite of the dislike he seemed to have taken to the count, to confess that the advantage was not on Pastrini’s side. During dessert, the servant inquired at what time they wished for the carriage. Albert and Franz looked at each other, fearing really to abuse the count’s kindness. The servant understood them. “His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo had,” he said, “given positive orders 484

that the carriage was to remain at their lordships’ orders all day, and they could therefore dispose of it without fear of indiscretion.” They resolved to profit by the count’s courtesy, and ordered the horses to be harnessed, while they substituted evening dress for that which they had on, and which was somewhat the worse for the numerous combats they had sustained. This precaution taken, they went to the theatre, and installed themselves in the count’s box. During the first act, the Countess G–– entered. Her first look was at the box where she had seen the count the previous evening, so that she perceived Franz and Albert in the place of the very person concerning whom she had expressed so strange an opinion to Franz. Her opera-glass was so fixedly directed towards them, that Franz saw it would be cruel not to satisfy her curiosity; and, availing himself of one of the privileges of the spectators of the Italian theatres, who use their boxes to hold receptions, the two friends went to pay their respects to the countess. Scarcely had they entered, when she motioned to Franz to assume the seat of honor. Albert, in his turn, sat behind. “Well,” said she, hardly giving Franz time to sit down, “it seems you have nothing better to do than to make the acquaintance of this new Lord Ruthven, and you are already the best friends in the world.” “Without being so far advanced as that, my dear countess,” returned Franz, “I cannot deny that we have abused his good nature all day.” “All day?” “Yes; this morning we breakfasted with him; we rode in his carriage all day, and now we have taken possession of his box.” “You know him, then?” “Yes, and no.” “How so?” 485

“It is a long story.” ‘Tell it to me.” “It would frighten you too much.” “So much the more reason.” “At least wait until the story has a conclusion.” “Very well; I prefer complete histories; but tell me how you made his acquaintance? Did any one introduce you to him?” “No; it was he who introduced himself to us.” “When?” “Last night, after we left you.” “Through what medium?” “The very prosaic one of our landlord.” “He is staying, then, at the Hotel de Londres with you?” “Not only in the same hotel, but on the same floor.” “What is his name – for, of course, you know?” “The Count of Monte Cristo.” “That is not a family name?” “No, it is the name of the island he has purchased.” “And he is a count?” 486

“A Tuscan count.” “Well, we must put up with that,” said the countess, who was herself from one of the oldest Venetian families. “What sort of a man is he?” “Ask the Vicomte de Morcerf.” “You hear, M. de Morcerf, I am referred to you,” said the countess. “We should be very hard to please, madam,” returned Albert, “did we not think him delightful. A friend of ten years’ standing could not have done more for us, or with a more perfect courtesy.” “Come,” observed the countess, smiling, “I see my vampire is only some millionaire, who has taken the appearance of Lara in order to avoid being confounded with M. de Rothschild; and you have seen her?” “Her?” “The beautiful Greek of yesterday.” “No; we heard, I think, the sound of her guzla, but she remained perfectly invisible.” “When you say invisible,” interrupted Albert, “it is only to keep up the mystery; for whom do you take the blue domino at the window with the white curtains?” “Where was this window with white hangings?” asked the countess. “At the Rospoli Palace.” “The count had three windows at the Rospoli Palace?” “Yes. Did you pass through the Corso?” “Yes.” 487

“Well, did you notice two windows hung with yellow damask, and one with white damask with a red cross? Those were the count’s windows.” “Why, he must be a nabob. Do you know what those three windows were worth?” “Two or three hundred Roman crowns?” “Two or three thousand.” “The deuce.” “Does his island produce him such a revenue?” “It does not bring him a baiocco.” “Then why did he purchase it?” “For a whim.” “He is an original, then?” “In reality,” observed Albert, “he seemed to me somewhat eccentric; were he at Paris, and a frequenter of the theatres, I should say he was a poor devil literally mad. This morning he made two or three exits worthy of Didier or Anthony.” At this moment a fresh visitor entered, and, according to custom, Franz gave up his seat to him. This circumstance had, moreover, the effect of changing the conversation; an hour afterwards the two friends returned to their hotel. Signor Pastrini had already set about procuring their disguises for the morrow; and he assured them that they would be perfectly satisfied. The next morning, at nine o’clock, he entered Franz’s room, followed by a tailor, who had eight or ten Roman peasant costumes on his arm; they selected two exactly alike, and charged the tailor to sew on each of their hats about twenty yards of ribbon, and to procure them two of the long silk sashes of different colors with which the lower orders decorate themselves on fete-days. Albert was impatient to see 488

how he looked in his new dress – a jacket and breeches of blue velvet, silk stockings with clocks, shoes with buckles, and a silk waistcoat. This picturesque attire set him off to great advantage; and when he had bound the scarf around his waist, and when his hat, placed coquettishly on one side, let fall on his shoulder a stream of ribbons, Franz was forced to confess that costume has much to do with the physical superiority we accord to certain nations. The Turks used to be so picturesque with their long and flowing robes, but are they not now hideous with their blue frocks buttoned up to the chin, and their red caps, which make them look like a bottle of wine with a red seal? Franz complimented Albert, who looked at himself in the glass with an unequivocal smile of satisfaction. They were thus engaged when the Count of Monte Cristo entered. “Gentlemen,” said he, “although a companion is agreeable, perfect freedom is sometimes still more agreeable. I come to say that to-day, and for the remainder of the Carnival, I leave the carriage entirely at your disposal. The host will tell you I have three or four more, so that you will not inconvenience me in any way. Make use of it, I pray you, for your pleasure or your business.” The young men wished to decline, but they could find no good reason for refusing an offer which was so agreeable to them. The Count of Monte Cristo remained a quarter of an hour with them, conversing on all subjects with the greatest ease. He was, as we have already said, perfectly well acquainted with the literature of all countries. A glance at the walls of his salon proved to Franz and Albert that he was a connoisseur of pictures. A few words he let fall showed them that he was no stranger to the sciences, and he seemed much occupied with chemistry. The two friends did not venture to return the count the breakfast he had given them; it would have been too absurd to offer him in exchange for his excellent table the very inferior one of Signor Pastrini. They told him so frankly, and he received their excuses with the air of a man who appreciated their delicacy. Albert was charmed with the count’s manners, and he was only prevented from recognizing him for a perfect gentleman by reason of his varied knowledge. The permission to do what he liked with the carriage pleased 489

him above all, for the fair peasants had appeared in a most elegant carriage the preceding evening, and Albert was not sorry to be upon an equal footing with them. At half-past one they descended, the coachman and footman had put on their livery over their disguises, which gave them a more ridiculous appearance than ever, and which gained them the applause of Franz and Albert. Albert had fastened the faded bunch of violets to his button-hole. At the first sound of the bell they hastened into the Corso by the Via Vittoria. At the second turn, a bunch of fresh violets, thrown from a carriage filled with harlequins, indicated to Albert that, like himself and his friend, the peasants had changed their costume, also; and whether it was the result of chance, or whether a similar feeling had possessed them both, while he had changed his costume they had assumed his. Albert placed the fresh bouquet in his button-hole, but he kept the faded one in his hand; and when he again met the calash, he raised it to his lips, an action which seemed greatly to amuse not only the fair lady who had thrown it, but her joyous companions also. The day was as gay as the preceding one, perhaps even more animated and noisy; the count appeared for an instant at his window. but when they again passed he had disappeared. It is almost needless to say that the flirtation between Albert and the fair peasant continued all day. In the evening, on his return, Franz found a letter from the embassy, informing him that he would have the honor of being received by his holiness the next day. At each previous visit he had made to Rome, he had solicited and obtained the same favor; and incited as much by a religious feeling as by gratitude, he was unwilling to quit the capital of the Christian world without laying his respectful homage at the feet of one of St. Peter’s successors who has set the rare example of all the virtues. He did not then think of the Carnival, for in spite of his condescension and touching kindness, one cannot incline one’s self without awe before the venerable and noble old man called Gregory XVI. On his return from the Vatican, Franz carefully avoided the Corso; he brought away with him a treasure of pious thoughts, to which the mad gayety of the maskers would have been profanation. At ten minutes past five Albert entered overjoyed. The harlequin had reassumed 490

her peasant’s costume, and as she passed she raised her mask. She was charming. Franz congratulated Albert, who received his congratulations with the air of a man conscious that they are merited. He had recognized by certain unmistakable signs, that his fair incognita belonged to the aristocracy. He had made up his mind to write to her the next day. Franz remarked, while he gave these details, that Albert seemed to have something to ask of him, but that he was unwilling to ask it. He insisted upon it, declaring beforehand that he was willing to make any sacrifice the other wished. Albert let himself be pressed just as long as friendship required, and then avowed to Franz that he would do him a great favor by allowing him to occupy the carriage alone the next day. Albert attributed to Franz’s absence the extreme kindness of the fair peasant in raising her mask. Franz was not sufficiently egotistical to stop Albert in the middle of an adventure that promised to prove so agreeable to his curiosity and so flattering to his vanity. He felt assured that the perfect indiscretion of his friend would duly inform him of all that happened; and as, during three years that he had travelled all over Italy, a similar piece of good fortune had never fallen to his share, Franz was by no means sorry to learn how to act on such an occasion. He therefore promised Albert that he would content himself the morrow with witnessing the Carnival from the windows of the Rospoli Palace. The next morning he saw Albert pass and repass, holding an enormous bouquet, which he doubtless meant to make the bearer of his amorous epistle. This belief was changed into certainty when Franz saw the bouquet (conspicuous by a circle of white camellias) in the hand of a charming harlequin dressed in rose-colored satin. The evening was no longer joy, but delirium. Albert nothing doubted but that the fair unknown would reply in the same manner. Franz anticipated his wishes by saying that the noise fatigued him, and that he should pass the next day in writing and looking over his journal. Albert was not deceived, for the next evening Franz saw him enter triumphantly shaking a folded paper which he held by one corner. “Well,” said he, “was I mistaken?” “She has answered you!” cried Franz. 491

“Read.” This word was pronounced in a manner impossible to describe. Franz took the letter, and read: – Tuesday evening, at seven o’clock, descend from your carriage opposite the Via dei Pontefici, and follow the Roman peasant who snatches your torch from you. When you arrive at the first step of the church of San Giacomo, be sure to fasten a knot of rose-colored ribbons to the shoulder of your harlequin costume, in order that you may be recognized. Until then you will not see me. Constancy and Discretion. “Well,” asked he, when Franz had finished, “what do you think of that?” “I think that the adventure is assuming a very agreeable appearance.” “I think so, also,” replied Albert; “and I very much fear you will go alone to the Duke of Bracciano’s ball.” Franz and Albert had received that morning an invitation from the celebrated Roman banker. “Take care, Albert,” said Franz. “All the nobility of Rome will be present, and if your fair incognita belong to the higher class of society, she must go there.” “Whether she goes there or not, my opinion is still the same,” returned Albert. “You have read the letter?” “Yes.” “You know how imperfectly the women of the mezzo cito are educated in Italy?” (This is the name of the lower class.) “Yes.” “Well, read the letter again. Look at the writing, and find if you can, any blemish in the language or orthography.” (The writing was, in reality, charming, and the orthography irreproachable.) “You are born to good fortune,” said Franz, as he returned the letter. 492

“Laugh as much as you will,” replied Albert, “I am in love.” “You alarm me,” cried Franz. “I see that I shall not only go alone to the Duke of Bracciano’s, but also return to Florence alone.” “If my unknown be as amiable as she is beautiful,” said Albert, “I shall fix myself at Rome for six weeks, at least. I adore Rome, and I have always had a great taste for archaeology.” “Come, two or three more such adventures, and I do not despair of seeing you a member of the Academy.” Doubtless Albert was about to discuss seriously his right to the academic chair when they were informed that dinner was ready. Albert’s love had not taken away his appetite. He hastened with Franz to seat himself, free to recommence the discussion after dinner. After dinner, the Count of Monte Cristo was announced. They had not seen him for two days. Signor Pastrini informed them that business had called him to Civita Vecchia. He had started the previous evening, and had only returned an hour since. He was charming. Whether he kept a watch over himself, or whether by accident he did not sound the acrimonious chords that in other circumstances had been touched, he was to-night like everybody else. The man was an enigma to Franz. The count must feel sure that Franz recognized him; and yet he had not let fall a single word indicating any previous acquaintance between them. On his side, however great Franz’s desire was to allude to their former interview, the fear of being disagreeable to the man who had loaded him and his friend with kindness prevented him from mentioning it. The count had learned that the two friends had sent to secure a box at the Argentina Theatre, and were told they were all let. In consequence, he brought them the key of his own – at least such was the apparent motive of his visit. Franz and Albert made some difficulty, alleging their fear of depriving him of it; but the count replied that, as he was going to the Palli Theatre, the box at the Argentina Theatre would be lost if they did not profit by it. This assurance determined the two friends to accept it. Franz had by degrees become accustomed to the count’s pallor, which had so forcibly struck him at their first meeting. He could not refrain from 493

admiring the severe beauty of his features, the only defect, or rather the principal quality of which was the pallor. Truly, a Byronic hero! Franz could not, we will not say see him, but even think of him without imagining his stern head upon Manfred’s shoulders, or beneath Lara’s helmet. His forehead was marked with the line that indicates the constant presence of bitter thoughts; he had the fiery eyes that seem to penetrate to the very soul, and the haughty and disdainful upper lip that gives to the words it utters a peculiar character that impresses them on the minds of those to whom they are addressed. The count was no longer young. He was at least forty; and yet it was easy to understand that he was formed to rule the young men with whom he associated at present. And, to complete his resemblance with the fantastic heroes of the English poet, the count seemed to have the power of fascination. Albert was constantly expatiating on their good fortune in meeting such a man. Franz was less enthusiastic; but the count exercised over him also the ascendency a strong mind always acquires over a mind less domineering. He thought several times of the project the count had of visiting Paris; and he had no doubt but that, with his eccentric character, his characteristic face, and his colossal fortune, he would produce a great effect there. And yet he did not wish to be at Paris when the count was there. The evening passed as evenings mostly pass at Italian theatres; that is, not in listening to the music, but in paying visits and conversing. The Countess G–– wished to revive the subject of the count, but Franz announced he had something far newer to tell her, and, in spite of Albert’s demonstrations of false modesty, he informed the countess of the great event which had preoccupied them for the last three days. As similar intrigues are not uncommon in Italy, if we may credit travellers, the comtess did not manifest the least incredulity, but congratulated Albert on his success. They promised, upon separating, to meet at the Duke of Bracciano’s ball, to which all Rome was invited. The heroine of the bouquet kept her word; she gave Albert no sign of her existence the morrow or the day after. At length Tuesday came, the last and most tumultuous day of the Carnival. On Tuesday, the theatres open at ten o’clock in the morning, as Lent begins after eight at night. On Tuesday, all those who through want of 494

have not been to see the Carnival before. passed by like lightning. When the detachment arrived at the Piazza di Venezia. Almost instantly.money. A detachment of carbineers. flowers. exchanging handfuls of confetti with the other carriages and the pedestrians. It was a human storm. In order that there might be no confusion. A knot of rose-colored ribbons fell from his shoulder almost to the ground. galloped up the Corso in order to clear it for the barberi. at the windows. a single arm that did not move. without the police interfering in the matter. All these evolutions are executed with an inconceivable address and marvellous rapidity. eggs. and contribute to the noise and excitement. without any other signal. let off on the Piazza del Popolo and the Piazza di Venezia (heard with difficulty amid the din and confusion) announced that the races were about to begin. are one of the episodes peculiar to the last days of the Carnival. to announce that the street was clear. mingle in the gayety. Then the Castle of Saint Angelo fired three cannon to indicate that number three had won. made up of a thunder of cries. From two o’clock till five Franz and Albert followed in the fete. 495 . does not recollect to have ever seen a ceremony interrupted by one of those events so common in other countries. Franz wore his peasant’s costume. Immediately. or a single fight. a second volley of fireworks was discharged. down all the streets. who crowded amongst the horses’ feet and the carriage wheels without a single accident. in the midst of a tremendous and general outcry. and retired by the adjacent streets. and a hail of sweetmeats. then the trampling of horses and the clashing of steel were heard. oranges. or enthusiasm. in the carriages. There was not on the pavement. fifteen abreast. seven or eight horses. who has resided five or six years in Italy. At the sound of the fireworks the carriages instantly broke ranks. The fetes are veritable pleasure days to the Italians. flowing on towards the Corso. The author of this history. Albert was triumphant in his harlequin costume. time. At three o’clock the sound of fireworks. a single dispute. a single tongue that was silent. excited by the shouts of three hundred thousand spectators. The pedestrians ranged themselves against the walls. The races. like torrents pent up for a while. As the day advanced. and nosegays. like the moccoli. the carriages moved on. the tumult became greater.

at the cry of “Moccoletti!” repeated by the shrill voices of a thousand vendors. and that one comes from God. and which give to each actor in the great final scene of the Carnival two very serious problems to grapple with. the Corso was light as day. The moccoli. Suppose that all the stars had descended from the sky and mingled in a wild dance on the face of the earth. But he has discovered a thousand means of taking it away. Two or three masks 496 . every one blowing. the monstrous extinguishers. relighting. the Transteverin the citizen. It seemed like the fete of jack-o’lanterns. It is impossible to form any idea of it without having seen it. – first. The night was rapidly approaching. the superhuman fans. It was a signal. The facchino follows the prince. and the immense stream again continued its course between its two granite banks. bearing his moccoletto in his hand. descending from the Palazzo di Venezia to the Piazza del Popolo. are candles which vary in size from the pascal taper to the rushlight. the whole accompanied by cries that were never heard in any other part of the world. The sellers of moccoletti entered on the scene. Every one hastened to purchase moccoletti – Franz and Albert among the rest. and already. Had old AEolus appeared at this moment. and mounting from the Piazzo del Popolo to the Palazzo di Venezia. at length it pointed to seven. or moccoletti. Every five minutes Albert took out his watch. how to extinguish the moccoletti of others. At the end of ten minutes fifty thousand lights glittered. This battle of folly and flame continued for two hours. two or three stars began to burn among the crowd. the features of the spectators on the third and fourth stories were visible. A new source of noise and movement was added to the crowd. how to keep his own moccoletto alight. The moccoletto is kindled by approaching it to a light. and secondly. The two friends were in the Via dei Pontefici. he would have been proclaimed king of the moccoli. The moccoletto is like life: man has found but one means of transmitting it. extinguishing. and Aquilo the heir-presumptive to the throne. Albert sprang out. and the devil has somewhat aided him.which again flow into the parent river. But who can describe the thousand means of extinguishing the moccoletto? – the gigantic bellows.

but Albert. 497 . but at length he lost sight of them in the Via Macello. without doubt. It seemed as though one immense blast of the wind had extinguished every one. and continued his course towards the church of San Giacomo. who strove to snatch each other’s torches. nothing was visible save a few lights that burnt behind the windows. and at the same instant all the moccoletti were extinguished as if by enchantment.strove to knock his moccoletto out of his hand. Instantly a mask. but. sent them rolling in the street. The steps were crowded with masks. nothing hostile passed. The Carnival was over. Franz found himself in utter darkness. snatched his moccoletto from him without his offering any resistance. one after the other. Suddenly the bell that gives the signal for the end of the carnival sounded. wearing the well-known costume of a peasant woman. Franz was too far off to hear what they said. a first-rate pugilist. and saw him mount the first step. for he saw Albert disappear arm-in-arm with the peasant girl. He watched them pass through the crowd for some time. No sound was audible save that of the carriages that were carrying the maskers home. Franz followed Albert with his eyes.

and went out. one of the last heiresses of the Colonnas. He therefore dined very silently. or rather the count’s. Franz and Albert had brought to Rome letters of introduction to them. and their first question on his arrival was to inquire the whereabouts of his travelling companion. had suddenly changed into a vast tomb. as in this moment. By a chance. which was on the wane. had left in Franz’s mind a certain depression which was not free from uneasiness. and the silence which had succeeded the turmoil. Franz had never before experienced so sudden an impression. but Franz merely replied that Albert had received on the previous evening an invitation which he had accepted. In his whole life. He ordered the carriage. the darkness which had replaced the light. The sudden extinction of the moccoletti. the moon. for eleven o’clock. stopped before the Hotel de Londres. At eleven o’clock Albert had not come back. It seemed as though Rome. therefore. Franz replied that he had left him at the moment 498 . and at the end of ten minutes his carriage. inquired into the cause of his absence. who presented himself two or three times to inquire if he wanted anything. in spite of the officious attention of his host. Franz dressed himself. who had been accustomed to see them dine together. did not rise until eleven o’clock. which added yet more to the intensity of the darkness. Signor Pastrini. Franz resolved to wait for Albert as late as possible. does its honors with the most consummate grace. desiring Signor Pastrini to inform him the moment that Albert returned to the hotel. perhaps. the duchess. Dinner was waiting. and the streets which the young man traversed were plunged in the deepest obscurity. so rapid a transition from gayety to sadness. Franz sat down without him. and thus their fetes have a European celebrity. The distance was short. telling his host that he was going to pass the night at the Duke of Bracciano’s. under the magic breath of some demon of the night. The house of the Duke of Bracciano is one of the most delightful in Rome.Chapter 37: The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian. but as Albert had told him that he should not return so soon.

” replied Franz. “I think. is it not. however. Albert de Morcerf. “I waited for him until this hour. and the women of falling ill of jealousy at seeing you so lovely. “and whom I have not seen since.” “Ah. “and those who are here will complain of but one thing – its too rapid flight.” “I am not speaking.” replied the countess. or rather a bad night. I meant persons who were out in the streets of Rome.” said Franz. “Then he has not returned?” said the duke.” “And don’t you know where he is?” “Not at all. “of the persons who are here. countess!” These words were addressed to the Countess G–– .” “Diavolo!” said the duke.” said the duke with a smile. I think it was something very like a rendezvous. whom I left in pursuit of his unknown about seven o’clock this evening. who had just arrived. “And do you know whither he went?” “No. and was leaning on the arm of Signor Torlonia. unless it be to go to a ball?” “Our friend. to be out late. the duke’s brother. the men run no other danger than that of falling in love with you.” asked the countess. not precisely. “who is out in the streets of Rome at this hour. and that he had lost sight of him in the Via Macello. that it is a charming night.” “Is he armed?” 499 . countess. “this is a bad day. on the contrary.they were about to extinguish the moccoli.

“Your excellency.” replied the duke.” “Why did he not bring it to me here?” “The messenger did not say. is one of my servants who is seeking you. “and then moreover. who know Rome better than he does. “and desired them to come and inform me of his return.” “You should not have allowed him to go.” “A letter from the viscount!” exclaimed Franz. “here I think. and the Tiber is very near the Via Macello. what could happen to him?” “Who can tell? The night is gloomy.” replied Franz. who gained the prize in the race to-day.” “You might as well have tried to stop number three of the barberi. duke.” said Franz. the servant came up to him.” said the duke to Franz.“He is in masquerade.” “And where is the messenger?” “He went away directly he saw me enter the ball-room to find you.” “And who is the man?” “I do not know.” Franz felt a shudder run through his veins at observing that the feeling of the duke and the countess was so much in unison with his own personal disquietude. “Yes.” “Ah.” he said.” 500 .” The duke was not mistaken. when he saw Franz. “the master of the Hotel de Londres has sent to let you know that a man is waiting for you with a letter from the Viscount of Morcerf. “I informed them at the hotel that I had the honor of passing the night here. “you.

“Oh. to his extreme astonishment. “from the Viscount of Morcerf?” “Your excellency lodges at Pastrini’s hotel?” “I do. but. He had sent away his carriage with orders for it to fetch him at two o’clock. Franz saw a man in the middle of the street.” said the countess to Franz.” inquired Franz. “Yes. fortunately the Palazzo Bracciano.” “Your excellency is the travelling companion of the viscount?” “I am. He had no doubt that it was the messenger from Albert. “go with all speed – poor young man! Perhaps some accident has happened to him. which is on one side in the Corso. “What wants your excellency of me?” inquired the man. pray be assured of that.” Franz took his hat and went away in haste.” said the countess. otherwise I cannot answer as to what I may do myself.” “Your excellency’s name” – 501 . as if to keep on his guard. is hardly ten minutes’ walk from the Hotel de Londres. the stranger first addressed him. He went up to him. in any event. The man was wrapped up in a large cloak. “Are not you the person who brought me a letter. if it is not any serious affair.” “I will hasten. As he came near the hotel.” replied Franz. “Shall we see you again to give us any information?” inquired the countess.” “Be prudent. and on the other in the Square of the Holy Apostles.“Oh. retreating a step or two.

” “Come up-stairs with me.“Is the Baron Franz d’Epinay.” said the messenger. On the staircase he met Signor Pastrini. “Well – what?” responded Franz. and so he went instantly towards the waxlight. It was thus worded: – 502 . if you please. “Yes. and this had only made him the more anxious to read Albert’s letter. Light the candles in my apartment.” The inn-keeper gave orders to a servant to go before Franz with a light.” “Is there any answer?” inquired Franz.” Franz entered the hotel. “You have seen the man who desired to speak with you from your friend?” he asked of Franz.” “Then it is to your excellency that this letter is addressed.” “Shall I find you here. It was written and signed by Albert. Franz read it twice before he could comprehend what it contained. and I will give it to you. The young man had found Signor Pastrini looking very much alarmed. “And why?” “Your excellency will know when you have read the letter. taking the letter from him. “and he has handed this letter to me. and unfolded it. then?” “Certainly. I have seen him.” “I prefer waiting here.” he replied. with a smile. “Well?” said the landlord. “Yes – your friend at least hopes so.

had fallen into the hands of the famous bandit chief.My Dear Fellow. and found the pocket-book in the drawer. in a strange hand. alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di vivere. and had only come to Rome to pass seven or eight days. which you will find in the square drawer of the secretary. “If by six in the morning the four thousand piastres are not in my hands. and give them to the bearer. Albert.S. have the kindness to take the letter of credit from my pocket-book. then. about to 503 . relying on you as you may rely on me. Luigi Vampa. the street was safer for him. Run to Torlonia. – The moment you have received this. – I now believe in Italian banditti. the following in Italian: – Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono nelle mie mani. therefore. if it be not sufficient. As to Franz. There was no time to lose. He hastened to open the secretary. he might in such a case rely on the kindness of Signor Torlonia. draw from him instantly four thousand piastres. and of these he had not more than fifty left. He was. add your own to it. There were in all six thousand piastres. in whose existence he had for so long a time refused to believe. who now understood the objection of the messenger to coming up into the apartment. as he lived at Florence. Thus seven or eight hundred piastres were wanting to them both to make up the sum that Albert required. It is urgent that I should have this money without delay. and in it the letter of credit. he had brought but a hundred louis. Below these lines were written. Albert de Morcerf.” This second signature explained everything to Franz. Your friend. P. by seven o’clock the Count Albert will have ceased to live. he had no letter of credit. but of these six thousand Albert had already expended three thousand. I do not say more. True.

and request him to be so kind as to give me an audience. He was in a small room which Franz had not yet seen.” replied the count. “have you come to sup with me? It would be very kind of you. looking at Franz with the earnestness usual to him. he has this moment returned. “Read that. The count read it. and returning.” Franz went along the corridor.” “A serious matter.” he said. and a servant introduced him to the count. your excellency. I have come to speak to you of a very serious matter. – “The count awaits your excellency. Franz gave him Albert’s letter. and which was surrounded with divans. 504 .return to the Palazzo Bracciano without loss of time. he said. “do you know if the count is within?” “Yes. “Well. “and what may it be?” “Are we alone?” “Yes. going to the door. The count came towards him. “Did you see the postscript?” “I did. what good wind blows you hither at this hour?” said he. “Well. when suddenly a luminous idea crossed his mind. hastily. when that worthy presented himself.” “Then ring at his door.” “Is he in bed?” “I should say no.” Signor Pastrini did as he was desired.” “No. indeed. “My dear sir.” he said. He remembered the Count of Monte Cristo. Franz was about to ring for Signor Pastrini.” said the count. well!” said he. and returning five minutes after. if you please.

all but eight hundred piastres. with surprise.“‘Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono nelle mie mani. opened it. “If we were to go together to Luigi Vampa. I come to you first and instantly.” “I think that if you would take the trouble of reflecting. and pulling out a drawer filled with gold. have what you will. “Is it absolutely necessary. “and he made a sign to Franz to take what he pleased.” said Franz.” replied Franz. “Have you the money he demands?” “Yes. said to Franz.” replied he.’“ “What think you of that?” inquired Franz. “And I thank you. alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di vivere. “The postscript is explicit. “How so?” returned the count. – “I hope you will not offend me by applying to any one but myself. I am sure he would not refuse you Albert’s freedom. to send the money to Luigi Vampa?” asked the young man.” “You see. looking fixedly in his turn at the count. then. you could find a way of simplifying the negotiation.” “What influence can I possibly have over a bandit?” “Have you not just rendered him a service that can never be forgotten?” “What is that?” 505 .” The count went to his secretary. on the contrary. “‘Luigi Vampa. “Judge for yourself.

” “Shall I take any arms?” “For what purpose?” “Any money?” “It is useless. I know it. and. entered the 506 .” The count knit his brows. I will summon him hither.” “Be it so. well.” The count went to the window of the apartment that looked on to the street. “Salite!” said the count. and remained silent an instant. It is a lovely night. and whistled in a peculiar manner. and advanced into the middle of the street.” “It is useless. he would not come up. Where is the man who brought the letter?” “In the street. would you accompany me?” “If my society would not be disagreeable. but rather with alacrity.” “I must learn where we are going. in the same tone in which he would have given an order to his servant. The messenger obeyed without the least hesitation.“Have you not saved Peppino’s life?” “Well. The man in the mantle quitted the wall. mounting the steps at a bound.” “To your apartments. perhaps. “And if I went to seek Vampa. “who told you that?” “No matter.” “He awaits the answer?” “Yes. but he will not make any difficulty at entering mine.” said the count. and a walk without Rome will do us both good.

“he is one of my friends. that is strange. “Never? That is a long time.” said he. “it is necessary to excite this man’s confidence. But Peppino. Teresa returned it – all this with the consent of the chief. “Well?” said the count. “Ah. it is you.” “Good!” returned Peppino. five seconds afterwards he was at the door of the room. who was in the carriage. but it is something that you believe so. disguised as the coachman. seized the count’s hand. you may speak before his excellency.” replied Peppino.” said the count.” “How did the Viscount Albert fall into Luigi’s hands?” “Excellency. the Frenchman’s carriage passed several times the one in which was Teresa. “Ah.” “You can speak before me. then.” said the count. instead of answering. You allow me to give you this title?” continued the count in French. and covered it with kisses. “I am a friend of the count’s.” “No. “Oh. threw himself on his knees.” Peppino glanced anxiously at Franz. not forgotten that I saved your life.” said Franz. “you have. “I am ready to answer any questions your excellency may address to me. excellency. with an accent of profound gratitude.” “What?” cried Franz.hotel. “was Luigi Vampa in the carriage with the Roman peasants?” “It was he who drove. Peppino. The Frenchman threw her a bouquet. 507 . and never shall I forget it. Rise and answer.” returned Peppino.” “The chief’s mistress?” “Yes. for it is a week ago.

Sebastian.” “What!” exclaimed Franz. They made him get out. turning towards Franz. “if it had happened to any one but poor Albert. the coachman pulled up and did the same. Beppo told him he was going to take him to a villa a league from Rome. who were concealed on the banks of the Almo. Teresa. did the same. and he did not wait to be asked twice. that I should think it very amusing. and sat by him. “the peasant girl who snatched his mocoletto from him” – “Was a lad of fifteen.” “Well. The Frenchman made some resistance. who were waiting for him in the catacombs of St.” said the count. Beppo got in. Teresa gave him one – only. “it seems to me that this is a very likely story.” “And Beppo led him outside the walls?” said the count. and nearly strangled Beppo. The Frenchman asked for a rendezvous.” replied Franz. inviting the Frenchman to follow him. He gallantly offered the right-hand seat to Beppo. then. with the chief’s consent. Beppo put a brace of pistols to his head. Beppo has taken in plenty of others. “Exactly so.“Well. At the same time. a carriage was waiting at the end of the Via Macello. “But it was no disgrace to your friend to have been deceived.” replied Peppino. the Frenchman took off his mask. it was Beppo who was on the steps of the church of San Giacomo. and was forced to yield. walk along the banks of the river. surrounded the carriage. The coachman went up the Via di Ripetta and the Porta San Paola. What do you say to it?” “Why. and when they were two hundred yards outside. and then brought him to Teresa and Luigi. as the Frenchman became somewhat too forward. but he could not resist five armed men. instead of Teresa. the Frenchman assured him he would follow him to the end of the world. four of the band.” 508 .

“Order out the carriage. come along. and it would be difficult to contrive a better. You need not awaken the coachman. Sebastian?” “I was never in them. “Oh. be assured. day and night. I resolve on starting for some particular point. He is in a very picturesque place – do you know the catacombs of St.“And. decidedly. and therefore we had better go with all speed to extricate him from the hands of the infidels.” “Always ready?” “Yes. “and remove the pistols which are in the holsters. if you had not found me here. I always have one ready. “We might start at five o’clock and be in time. or in the middle of the night. his alarm will be the only serious consequence.” The count rang. then.” he said.” “That is of no consequence. here is an opportunity made to your hand. Have you a carriage?” “No. “Half-past twelve.” “Well. and away I go. and the carriage stopped at the door.” he said. Are you still resolved to accompany me?” “More determined than ever.” 509 .” “And shall we go and find him?” inquired Franz.” “Well. I am a very capricious being.” said the count. The count took out his watch. sir. “it might have proved a gallant adventure which would have cost your friend dear. but I have often resolved to visit them. and a footman appeared. or after my dinner. Ali will drive.” In a very short time the noise of wheels was heard. in truth. but now. but the delay may cause your friend to pass an uneasy night. and I should tell you that sometimes when I rise.

Ali was on the box. and the other a bandit on the lookout. and went down the Corso. brought with them in the carriage. and finally he disappeared in the midst of the tall red herbage. Five minutes elapsed. and Peppino went away.” Franz and the count in their turn then advanced along the same path. The road which the carriage now traversed was the ancient Appian Way. crossed the Campo Vaccino. the porter had a louis for his trouble. “let us follow him. which. Ali had received his instructions. Sebastian. led them over a declivity to the bottom of a small valley. at the distance of a hundred paces.” said the count to his companion. Peppino placed himself beside Ali. Peppino will have warned the sentry of our coming. went up the Strada San Gregorio. “Ought we to go on?” asked Franz of the count. during which Franz saw the shepherd going along a narrow path that led over the irregular and broken surface of the Campagna. taking with him a torch. and the count and Franz alighted. gave him an order in a low voice. allowing him to leave or enter the city at any hour of the day or night. the portcullis was therefore raised. “or shall we wait awhile?” “Let us go on. “Now. “In ten minutes.Franz and the count went downstairs. and reached the gates of St. Then the porter raised some difficulties. They then perceived two men conversing in the obscurity.” said the count. A short time before they reached the Baths of Caracalla the carriage stopped. which began to rise.” He then took Peppino aside. by the light of the moon. but the Count of Monte Cristo produced a permit from the governor of Rome. and they went on their way. and bordered with tombs. Franz imagined that he saw something like a sentinel appear at various points among the ruins. “we shall be there. Franz 510 . in whom Franz recognized the dumb slave of the grotto of Monte Cristo. accompanied by Peppino. and they set off at a rapid pace. and suddenly retreat into the darkness on a signal from Peppino. At the door they found the carriage.” One of the two men was Peppino. From time to time. Peppino opened the door. which seemed like the bristling mane of an enormous lion. Franz and the count got into the carriage.

more evident since Peppino had put out his torch. addressing the count. “Your excellency. and Franz and the count were in utter darkness. and turned to see if they came after him. “Who comes there?” At the same time they saw the reflection of a torch on a carbine barrel. saluted the nocturnal visitors. enlarging as they proceeded.and the count advanced. and. “Come with me. The passageway sloped in a gentle descent. which were arranged one above the other in the shape of coffins.” replied the count. showed that they were at last in the catacombs. then.” Peppino obeyed. and the walls.” said Peppino. “if you will follow me. They went on a hundred and fifty paces in this way. and then were stopped by. The count laid his hand on Franz’s shoulder. by which a man could scarcely pass.” replied Franz. Five corridors diverged like the rays of a star. rays of light were visible. “A friend!” responded Peppino. and were scarcely able to proceed abreast of one another. advancing alone towards the sentry. he said a few words to him in a low tone. except that fifty paces in advance of them a reddish glare.” “Go on. making a sign that they might proceed. Down one of the corridors. and found themselves in a mortuary chamber. Franz 511 . was visible along the wall. and then he. after they got along a few paces the passage widened. They advanced silently. then. the opening of the catacombs is close at hand. the count guiding Franz as if he had the singular faculty of seeing in the dark. and the bandit saluted them. put out the torch. “Would you like to see a camp of bandits in repose?” he inquired. like the first. lighted his torch. Peppino glided first into this crevice. Peppino passed. still Franz and the count were compelled to advance in a stooping posture. Peppino. The count first reached an open space and Franz followed him closely. They came to an opening behind a clump of bushes and in the midst of a pile of rocks. whose extent it was impossible to determine. “Exceedingly. Franz and the count descended these. Behind the sentinel was a staircase with twenty steps. dug into niches.

entirely surrounded by niches similar to those of which we have spoken. drawing at the same moment a pistol from his girdle. which went all round the columbarium. however. placed at the base of a pillar. was a sentinel. according to their fancy. At the other end. saw his way more plainly in proportion as he went on towards the light. In the midst of this chamber were four stones. and the middle one was used as a door. and like a shadow. and no muscle of his countenance disturbed. In a moment all the bandits were on their feet. through the openings of which the newcomers contemplated him. and.himself. and on the other into a large square chamber. as was evident from the cross which still surmounted them. to warn him to be silent. A man was seated with his elbow leaning on the column. which had formerly served as an altar. lighted up with its pale and flickering flame the singular scene which presented itself to the eyes of the two visitors concealed in the shadow. silent.” said he in a voice perfectly calm. or with their backs against a sort of stone bench. Luigi Vampa. “Well. were to be seen twenty brigands or more. which served in some manner as a guide. Three arcades were before them. who was less abstracted. and twenty carbines were levelled at the count. each having his carbine within reach. entered the chamber by the middle arcade. and in groups. my dear Vampa. who was so intent on the book before him that he did not hear the noise of his footsteps. This was the chief of the band.” 512 . These arcades opened on one side into the corridor where the count and Franz were. ascending the three steps which led to the corridor of the columbarium. who was walking up and down before a grotto. “well. At this challenge. and advanced towards Vampa. lying in their mantles. scarcely visible. it appears to me that you receive a friend with a great deal of ceremony. he raised his finger to his lips. Vampa rose quickly. Around him. “Who comes there?” cried the sentinel. When the count thought Franz had gazed sufficiently on this picturesque tableau. which was only distinguishable because in that spot the darkness seemed more dense than elsewhere. and who saw by the lamp-light a shadow approaching his chief. and was reading with his back turned to the arcades. A lamp.

having committed an error. as if he were an utter stranger. Well. “Was it not agreed. if I thought one of you knew that the young gentleman was the friend of his excellency. who has all our lives in his hands? By heavens. but also the conditions you make with them.” exclaimed the chief. your excellency. I would blow his brains out with my own hand!” 513 .” “What conditions have I forgotten. and. “you have set a ransom on him. and yet. your excellency?” “You have this evening carried off and conveyed hither the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf.” “It seems that your memory is equally short in everything. your excellency?” inquired the bandit. he said. “Why have you caused me thus to fail in my word towards a gentleman like the count. “that not only my person.” continued the count. “and that not only do you forget people’s faces. “this young gentleman is one of my friends – this young gentleman lodges in the same hotel as myself – this young gentleman has been up and down the Corso for eight hours in my private carriage. turning to the singular personage who had caused this scene. who all retreated before his look. I repeat to you. is anxious to repair it. then. while with the other he took off his hat respectfully. but also that of my friends. that I did not really recognize you.” added the count. in a tone that made Franz shudder. should be respected by you?” “And how have I broken that treaty.” “Why did you not tell me all this – you?” inquired the brigand chief. but I was so far from expecting the honor of a visit.“Ground arms.” said the count. Vampa. with an imperative sign of the hand. “Your pardon. with the air of a man who. taking the letter from his pocket. and conveyed him hither. you have carried him off. turning towards his men.” asked the count.

“I do not know. by the gleam of a lamp. “here is Luigi Vampa.” The chief went towards the place he had pointed out as Albert’s prison. “not so bad for a man who is to be shot at seven o’clock to-morrow morning.” “Nothing has happened to him.” “But.” said the count. that this had happened. let me add that I would not for the four thousand piastres at which I had fixed your friend’s ransom. your excellency. and Franz and the count followed him. “The prisoner is there. similar to that which lighted the columbarium. turning to Franz.” “Come in. and also my reply.” “Are you not alone?” asked Vampa with uneasiness.” said the count frowningly. and to whom I desired to prove that Luigi Vampa was a man of his word.” he said to him. “and I will go myself and tell him he is free. “where is the Viscount? – I do not see him. looking round him uneasily. “Ma foi.” said the count. Then. I hope. lying in a corner in profound slumber.” said Vampa. Albert was to be seen wrapped up in a cloak which one of the bandits had lent him. The count and Franz ascended seven or eight steps after the chief. who will himself express to you his deep regret at the mistake he has committed. “I told you there was some mistake in this. “I am with the person to whom this letter was addressed. pointing to the hollow space in front of which the bandit was on guard. “Welcome among us.” replied the sentry.“Well. your excellency. “Come. turning towards Franz. who drew back a bolt and opened a door.” the count added. “you heard what the count just said.” replied Vampa. “What is the prisoner doing?” inquired Vampa of the sentinel. the chief advancing several steps to meet him. smiling with his own peculiar smile. your excellency.” Vampa looked at 514 . for the last hour I have not heard him stir. captain. Come.” Franz approached.” said Franz.

” 515 .” replied Franz.” he said. your excellency. I was dancing the galop at Torlonia’s with the Countess G–– .’ if you had let me sleep on. “this must be one of your friends. they have paid my ransom?” “No. rubbed his eyelids. then. he was not insensible to such a proof of courage. the Count of Monte Cristo. “is it you. “remember. “What. hither. ‘Never awaken me but for bad news. “Will your excellency please to awaken?” Albert stretched out his arms. “Why the devil do you rouse me at this hour?” “To tell you that you are free. “You are right. my dear Franz. your excellency. Napoleon’s maxim. that he might see how time sped. I should have finished my galop. with perfect ease of mind. and opened his eyes.” “Well.” “Really? Then that person is a most amiable person.” Then he drew his watch from his pocket. then. not I. So.” Albert looked around and perceived Franz. “Oh. I had such a delightful dream. for the future. and have been grateful to you all my life. how am I free?” “A person to whom I can refuse nothing has come to demand you. whose devotion and friendship are thus displayed?” “No. your excellency.” “My dear fellow.” said he. “Half-past one only?” said he.” Then going to Albert.Albert with a kind of admiration. “is it you. captain? You should have allowed me to sleep. saying. he touched him on the shoulder.” replied Albert.” said he.” “Come hither?” “Yes. “but our neighbor.

and I hope you will consider me as under eternal obligations to you.” said the captain. arranging his cravat and wristbands. we shall yet have time to finish the night at Torlonia’s. he was enchanted at the way in which Albert had sustained the national honor in the presence of the bandit. “give me the torch. On reaching the door. in the first place for the carriage.” he said.” said the brigand chief. descended the staircase.” “What are you going to do?” inquired the count. but who nevertheless did give it. and we may reach the Palazzo by two o’clock. “if you will make haste. hat in hand. so that you will owe no ill-will to Signor Luigi. “Peppino. You may conclude your interrupted galop.” “Well. he bowed. indeed.” “You are decidedly right. Signor Luigi. as for Franz. but like a king who precedes ambassadors.” and he put out his hand to the Count.” added he. gentlemen. and yet here was one whose gay temperament was not for a moment altered. “allow me to repeat my apologies. he was evidently accustomed to see his prisoners tremble before him. “is there any formality to fulfil before I take leave of your excellency?” “None. “you are as free as air. Come.“Oh. “My dear Albert. come. crossed the square chamber. “you are really most kind. who shuddered as he gave his own. followed by Franz and the count.” continued Albert.” replied the bandit. my dear count.” 516 . then. The bandit gazed on this scene with amazement. he preceded his guests.” And Albert. throughout this whole affair acted like a gentleman.” said Albert gayly. sir. “I will show you the way back myself. “that is the least honor that I can render to your excellency. “And now. and I hope you will not entertain any resentment at what has occurred. where stood all the bandits. not as a servant who performs an act of civility. a happy and merry life to you.” And taking the lighted torch from the hands of the herdsman. your excellency. and in the next for this visit. who has.

“let us on with all the speed we may. that one almost feels obliged to you for having committed them.” replied Franz. but if you should ever feel inclined to pay me a second visit. It was just two o’clock by Albert’s watch when the two friends entered into the dancing-room. The count went out first. turning round. then Albert. “I am curious to know what work you were perusing with so much attention as we entered.” he said. “Yes. in his turn. are you coming?” asked Albert. “Now. and he will assure you the delay arose from no fault of mine. whose character for veracity you well know. and the horses went on at great speed. In the meanwhile Franz was considering the singular 517 .” said Albert. “Ah.” Franz and Albert bowed.” replied Franz.” added the chief.” “Caesar’s ‘Commentaries. your pardon. wherever I may be. “here I am. captain?” And he lighted his cigar at Vampa’s torch.” They found the carriage where they had left it.“No. “perhaps the offer may not appear very tempting to you. you compensate for your mistakes in so gentlemanly a way.” replied the count. my dear Vampa. left the caves. The count said a word in Arabic to Ali. “Madame. They advanced to the plain.” “Well. all uneasiness on Albert’s account ceased instantly. Franz paused for a moment. turning towards the young men. I am rather late in claiming this gracious promise. “besides.” and he. Albert put his arm round the waist of the countess.” said the Viscount of Morcerf. “Yes. my dear count. “Has your excellency anything to ask me?” said Vampa with a smile. but as they entered together. I have. advancing towards the countess. “yesterday you were so condescending as to promise me a galop. I am enormously anxious to finish my night at the Duke of Bracciano’s. Their return was quite an event. “it is my favorite work. you shall be welcome. but here is my friend.” And as at this moment the orchestra gave the signal for the waltz.” “Gentlemen. “will you allow me.’“ said the bandit. and disappeared with her in the whirl of dancers.

518 .shudder that had passed over the Count of Monte Cristo at the moment when he had been. in some sort. forced to give his hand to Albert.

who seemed attracted by some invisible influence towards the count. believe me. “I deserve no credit for what I could not help. so that there is not much of a score between us. contained a request that Franz would accompany him on a visit to the count. “you really exaggerate my trifling exertions.Chapter 38: The Compact. All that. on the following morning. and the perfect indifference you manifested as to the turn events might take. namely. advancing to meet him. The first words that Albert uttered to his friend. that although men get into troublesome scrapes all over the world. the young man had warmly and energetically thanked the count on the previous evening. but at once accompanied him to the desired spot. in which terror was strangely mingled. true. after a short delay. I shall never cease to dwell with grateful recollection on the prompt and important service you rendered me. and to assure you that the remembrance of all I owe to you will never be effaced from my memory. and to let those bandits see. has nothing to do with my 519 . with a smile. the count joined them in the salon. which you have been saved out of your travelling expenses. felt an extreme reluctance to permit his friend to be exposed alone to the singular fascination that this mysterious personage seemed to exercise over him.” “My very good friend and excellent neighbor.” replied the count.” said Albert. however. “permit me to repeat the poor thanks I offered last night.” said Albert. but services such as he had rendered could never be too often acknowledged. You owe me nothing but some trifle of 20.000 francs. and. as long as I live. – but you must really permit me to congratulate you on the ease and unconcern with which you resigned yourself to your fate. and therefore made no objection to Albert’s request. Franz. there is no nation but the French that can smile even in the face of grim Death himself. and also to remember that to you I am indebted even for my life. a determination to take everything as I found it.” “Upon my word. “My dear count.

” “I am wholly a stranger to Paris – it is a city I have never yet seen. so necessary a duty. Aguado and M. I can in any way serve you? My father. and I unhesitatingly place the best services of myself. and I now come to ask you whether. pray name it. possesses considerable influence. “your offer. my family. in my own person.” replied the count.obligations to you. “that you have reached your present age without visiting the finest capital in the world? I can scarcely credit it. I might have become a partner in the speculations of M. I will go still further. but as my motive in travelling to your capital would not have been for the pleasure of dabbling 520 . and all to whom my life is dear.” “Is it possible. and I accept it in the same spirit of hearty sincerity with which it is made. – nay. but. “could scarcely have required an introduction. Rothschild. or connections.” “You are most kind. I can find no merit I possess. at your disposal. in all probability. still. but unfortunately I possessed no acquaintance there. had I known any person who would have introduced me into the fashionable world. and calls for immediate correction. as a millionaire.” “Oh. far from surprising me. I agree with you in thinking that my present ignorance of the first city in Europe is a reproach to me in every way. although of Spanish origin. and.” cried Albert. it is quite true.” “So distinguished an individual as yourself. but as regards myself. was compelled to abandon the idea. the Comte de Morcerf.” exclaimed Albert. is precisely what I expected from you. as that of making myself acquainted with the wonders and beauties of your justly celebrated capital. I should have performed so important. both at the court of France and Madrid.” “Nevertheless. save that. and say that I had previously made up my mind to ask a great favor at your hands.” “Monsieur de Morcerf. of necessity.

but his countenance was inscrutable especially when. hoping to read something of his purpose in his face. “But tell me now. “Well. my dear M. I shall be quite a sober.” answered Albert. de Morcerf” (these words were accompanied by a most peculiar smile). to open to me the doors of that fashionable world of which I know no more than a Huron or a native of Cochin-China?” “Oh. as in the present case. staid father of a family! A most edifying representative I shall make of all the domestic virtues – don’t you think so? But as regards your wish to visit our fine city. but which. never mind how it is. like a house built on the sand. smooths all difficulties. is liable to be blown over by the first puff of wind?” 521 . I beg of you) with a family of high standing. “it comes to the same thing in the end. Your offer. delighted at the idea of having to chaperon so distinguished a person as Monte Cristo.” “Connected by marriage. laughingly. “whether you undertake. and while the Count was speaking the young man watched him closely. “and so much the more readily as a letter received this morning from my father summons me to Paris. however.” exclaimed Albert.in stocks. I can only say that you may command me and mine to any extent you please. or if this project of visiting Paris is merely one of the chimerical and uncertain air castles of which we make so many in the course of our lives. do not smile. in consequence of a treaty of marriage (my dear Franz. upon my arrival in France. Perhaps by the time you return to Paris. count. that I do.” said the count. and with infinite pleasure. it was veiled in a sphinx-like smile. you mean.” Franz did not doubt that these plans were the same concerning which the count had dropped a few words in the grotto of Monte Cristo. my dear count.” answered Albert. “and I give you my solemn assurance that I only waited an opportunity like the present to realize plans that I have long meditated. and connected with the very cream of Parisian society. I stayed away till some favorable chance should present itself of carrying my wish into execution. and I have only to ask you.” said Franz.” “Then it is settled. “tell me truly whether you are in earnest.

he said. in a fortnight or three weeks’ time. both inclination and positive necessity compel me to visit Paris. hour for hour.” returned the count. “I will give you three months ere I join you. 27. “it is exactly half-past ten o’clock.” replied the count.” “When do you propose going thither?” “Have you made up your mind when you shall be there yourself?” “Certainly I have. “you will be at my house?” “Shall we make a positive appointment for a particular day and hour?” inquired the count.” “Capital. “that will suit me to a dot.“I pledge you my honor.” “So be it.” 522 . “only let me warn you that I am proverbial for my punctilious exactitude in keeping my engagements. and extending his hand towards a calendar.” and drawing out his watch.” said the Count.” “Day for day. “And in three months’ time. added.” said Albert. then. as fast as I can get there!” “Nay. you see I make an ample allowance for all delays and difficulties.” exclaimed Albert.” “Have you bachelor’s apartments there? I hope my coming will not put you to any inconvenience. Rue du Helder. “that I mean to do as I have said. “your breakfast shall be waiting. Now promise me to remember this.” “Where do you live?” “No. and expect me the 21st of May at the same hour in the forenoon.” said Albert. that is to say. “to-day is the 21st of February. suspended near the chimney-piece.

21st May.” “In that case I must say adieu to you. “Let us understand each other. half-past ten in the morning. 523 . entirely separated from the main building. “make yourself perfectly easy. “allow me to wish you both a safe and pleasant journey. 27. as. and shall not return hither before Saturday evening or Sunday morning. And you. as I am compelled to go to Naples. and unconsciously he shuddered at its touch. for Venice. when do you leave?” “To-morrow evening.” “Then we shall not meet in Paris?” “I fear I shall not have that honor. “That depends. baron. “it is agreed – is it not? – that you are to be at No. returning his tablets to his pocket. the hand of your time-piece will not be more accurate in marking the time than myself. for it felt cold and icy as that of a corpse.” It was the first time the hand of Franz had come in contact with that of the mysterious individual before him.” said the count. at five o’clock.” “Well. taking out his tablets.” “Shall I see you again ere my departure?” asked Albert.” “Now then.“I reside in my father’s house. 27.” “For France?” “No. addressing Franz.” pursued the count. Rue du Helder.” “Quite sufficient. he wrote down “No. I shall remain in Italy for another year or two.” said the count. “do you also depart to-morrow?” “Yes. holding out a hand to each of the young men. since we must part. but occupy a pavilion at the farther side of the court-yard.” replied the count.” said Albert.

“that is the way I feel. when they had returned to their own apartments.” answered Franz.” “I will confess to you.in the Rue du Helder. “what can there possibly be in that to excite uneasiness? Why. Rue du Helder. has always been courtesy itself to us. The young men then rose. Franz. on the other hand. and bowing to the count. “you seem more than commonly thoughtful. and your word of honor passed for your punctuality?” “The 21st of May. “I am glad that the occasion has presented itself for saying this to you. No.” exclaimed Albert. at half-past ten in the morning. at half-past ten in the morning. while he. you must have lost your senses. Albert. quitted the room.” replied Franz. “What is the matter?” asked Albert of Franz. “the count is a very singular person. 27. on the 21st of May.” “Whether I am in my senses or not.” “Did you ever meet him previously to coming hither?” “I have. Have you anything particular against him?” “Possibly.” “My dear fellow.” “Listen to me.” “And where?” “Will you promise me not to repeat a single word of what I am about to tell you?” “I promise. and the appointment you have made to meet him in Paris fills me with a thousand apprehensions. for I have noticed how cold you are in your bearing towards the count.” replied the Count.” said Albert.” 524 .

Then he detailed the conversation overheard by him at the Colosseum. and you will find the harbors crowded with the yachts belonging to such of the English as can afford the expense. in which the count had promised to obtain the release of the bandit Peppino. he most faithfully fulfilled. between the count and Vampa. and. while you have manfully resisted its effects for as many years. Now. when Franz had concluded. at his awakening. – and obtaining a bed on which it is possible to slumber. Go but to Portsmouth or Southampton. as our readers are aware. and thereby depriving him of the advantages naturally 525 . Monte Cristo has furnished for himself a temporary abode where you first found him. the hashish. by way of having a resting-place during his excursions. and the magnificence of his entertainment in the grotto of the “Thousand and One Nights.“Upon your honor?” “Upon my honor. At last he arrived at the adventure of the preceding night. being rich.” He recounted. but. and the two Corsican bandits with them.” “Then listen to me. He dwelt with considerable force and energy on the almost magical hospitality he had received from the count. “Well. and the embarrassment in which he found himself placed by not having sufficient cash by six or seven hundred piastres to make up the sum required. there remained no proof or trace of all these events. and have the same liking for this amusement.” said he. Albert listened with the most profound attention. and how. save the small yacht.” Franz then related to his friend the history of his excursion to the Island of Monte Cristo and of his finding a party of smugglers there. seen in the distant horizon driving under full sail toward Porto-Vecchio. – an engagement which. avoiding the wretched cookery – which has been trying its best to poison me during the last four months. to prevent the possibility of the Tuscan government taking a fancy to his enchanted palace. the statues. the dream. possesses a vessel of his own. all the particulars of the supper. “what do you find to object to in all you have related? The count is fond of travelling. with circumstantial exactitude. and finally of his application to the count and the picturesque and satisfactory result that followed.

therefore.000 livres of our money – a sum at which. “of what country is the count. what is his native tongue. should be to the bandits of Colomba. really the thing seems to me simple enough.” “Talking of countries.” replied Franz. and that their fellowship involves no disgrace or stigma. Nobody knows better than yourself that the bandits of Corsica are not rogues or thieves. my first visit. should I ever go to Corsica. “the Corsican bandits that were among the crew of his vessel?” “Why. as in all probability I own my present safety to that influence. driven by some sinister motive from their native town or village. “that no prophet is honored in his own country. proving most indisputably. instead of condemning him for his intimacy with outlaws. I should never have been estimated in France. but certainly for saving me 4. “I suppose you will allow that such men as Vampa and his band are regular villains. but purely and simply fugitives. whence does he derive his immense fortune. being translated. and taken its name. I protest that.” “Still. on my conscience.” persisted Franz. Just ask yourself.expected from so large an outlay of capital. he has wisely enough purchased the island. for. for my own idea was that it never was in much danger. my good fellow. most assuredly. for my own part.000 piastres. which. ere even I presented myself to the mayor or prefect.” said Franz. if I could only manage to find them. whether there are not many persons of our acquaintance who assume the names of lands and properties they never in their lives were masters of?” “But. not altogether for preserving my life. who have no other motive than plunder when they seize your person. it would ill become me to search too closely into its source. How do you explain the influence the count evidently possessed over those ruffians?” “My good friend. means neither more nor less than 24. you must give me leave to excuse any little irregularity there may be in such a connection. and what 526 .” added Albert with a laugh. they are a race of men I admire greatly.

when. “Well. you must have lost your senses to think it possible I could act with such cold-blooded policy. Now. help me to deliver him. for services so promptly and unhesitatingly rendered.” And this time it must be confessed that. then. you found the necessity of asking the count’s assistance. upon receipt of my letter.were those events of his early life – a life as marvellous as unknown – that have tinctured his succeeding years with so dark and gloomy a misanthropy? Certainly these are questions that. Still. you promptly went to him. contrary to the usual state of affairs in discussions between the young men.” said Franz with a sigh. Albert de Morcerf? how does he come by his name – his fortune? what are his means of existence? what is his birthplace! of what country is he a native?’ Tell me. ‘Who is M.” “My dear Franz. in spite of all my outward appearance of ease and unconcern. where.’ Was not that nearly what you said?” “It was. did he put all these questions to you?” “I confess he asked me none. in spite of all. you must admit that this Count of Monte Cristo is a most singular personage. the effective arguments were all on Albert’s side. ‘My friend Albert de Morcerf is in danger. in your place. did he ask you.” “Well. “do as you please my dear viscount.” “No. then. I did not very particularly care to remain.” 527 . he merely came and freed me from the hands of Signor Vampa. I should like to have answered. I can assure you. Franz. for your arguments are beyond my powers of refutation. saying.” replied Albert. he but asks me in return to do for him what is done daily for any Russian prince or Italian nobleman who may pass through Paris – merely to introduce him into society – would you have me refuse? My good fellow. “when.

given. to whoever shall be proved to have most materially advanced the interests of virtue and humanity. he had written in pencil – “27. And now. and then pay a last visit to St.” 528 . Albert de Morcerf to return to Paris.“He is a philanthropist.M. and the following afternoon. on the 21st May. shall we take our luncheon. Come. beneath the name of Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. ere he entered his travelling carriage. I will readily give him the one and promise the other. at half-past five o’clock. as you are aware. Rue du Helder. “and no doubt his motive in visiting Paris is to compete for the Monthyon prize. let us talk of something else. my dear Franz. If my vote and interest can obtain it for him. on which. fearing that his expected guest might forget the engagement he had entered into.” answered the other. half-past ten A. But. Albert. placed in the care of a waiter at the hotel a card to be delivered to the Count of Monte Cristo. Peter’s?” Franz silently assented. the young men parted. and Franz d’Epinay to pass a fortnight at Venice.

careless life of an only son. the sight of what is going on is necessary to young men. A high wall surrounded the whole of the hotel. In the house in the Rue du Helder. Albert de Morcerf inhabited a pavilion situated at the corner of a large court. which served as the carriage entrance. Albert de Morcerf could follow up his researches by means of a small gate. and directly opposite another building. even if that horizon is only a public thoroughfare. gave ingress and egress to the servants and masters when they were on foot. and which merits a particular description. Then. By means of the two windows looking into the street. and broken in the centre by a large gate of gilded iron. Albert could see all that passed. however. so entirely was it covered with dust and dirt. three other windows looked into the court. It was a little entrance that seemed never to have been opened since the house was built. was the large and fashionable dwelling of the Count and Countess of Morcerf. should anything appear to merit a more minute examination. There were not lacking. close to the lodge of the concierge. where Albert had invited the Count of Monte Cristo. had chosen this habitation for Albert. but the well-oiled hinges and locks told quite another story. and two at the back into the garden. similar to that close to the concierge’s door. surmounted at intervals by vases filled with flowers. in which were the servants’ apartments. This door was a mockery to the concierge. who always want to see the world traverse their horizon. Between the court and the garden. It was easy to discover that the delicate care of a mother. from whose 529 . built in the heavy style of the imperial architecture. and who lives as it were in a gilded cage. evidences of what we may call the intelligent egoism of a youth who is charmed with the indolent. Two windows only of the pavilion faced the street.Chapter 39: The Guests. unwilling to part from her son. A small door. and yet aware that a young man of the viscount’s age required the full exercise of his liberty. everything was being prepared on the morning of the 21st of May to do honor to the occasion.

with which the door communicated. The salon down-stairs was only an Algerian divan. a boudoir. formed out of the ante-chamber. Albert’s breakfast-room. was. Cook. Above this floor was a large atelier. and it was here that he received Grisier. of old arm-chairs. boxing-gloves. with the addition of a third. There were collected and piled up all Albert’s successive caprices. Shrubs and creeping plants covered the windows. looking into the garden. adorned with a carved shield. and on the left the salon. for the use of smokers. or Sully. on the right. and singlestick. at least. broadswords. in which the artist and the dandy strove for preeminence. Over these dark and sombre chairs were thrown splendid stuffs. or Richelieu – for two of these arm-chairs. On the floor above were similar rooms. and which formed the antechamber. palettes. as they were on the ground-floor. and hid from the garden and court these two apartments. brushes. bass-viols. the three arts that complete a dandy’s education.. The rest of the furniture of this privileged apartment consisted of old cabinets. in which perhaps had sat Henry IV. the prying eyes of the curious could penetrate. and single-sticks – for. foils. and. for Albert had had not a taste but a fancy for music. looking into the court. hunting-horns. Lucca della Robbia faience. pencils – for music had been succeeded by painting. The boudoir up-stairs communicated with the bed-chamber by an invisible door on the staircase. and Palissy platters. and a bedroom. these three rooms were a salon.vigilance and jurisdiction it was free. i. What these 530 . filled with Chinese porcelain and Japanese vases. the only rooms into which. it was wont to swing backward at a cabalistic word or a concerted tap from without from the sweetest voices or whitest fingers in the world. easels. or. Louis XIII. with far more perseverance than music and drawing. it was evident that every precaution had been taken. or woven by the fingers of the women of Calcutta or of Chandernagor. some royal residence.” opening at the “Sesame” of Ali Baba. fencing. dyed beneath Persia’s sun. like that famous portal in the “Arabian Nights. following the example of the fashionable young men of the time.e. boxing. At the end of a long corridor. and Charles Leboucher. on which were engraved the fleur-de-lis of France on an azure field evidently came from the Louvre. which had been increased in size by pulling down the partitions – a pandemonium. Albert de Morcerf cultivated. flutes – a whole orchestra.

which. gilded. Albert glanced carelessly at the different missives. rather. in an open cabinet. Gretry. Mozart. On the walls. a destination unknown to their owner himself. to Latakia. beside them. of chibouques. whose name was Germain. and on great occasions the count’s chasseur also. In the centre of the room was a Roller and Blanchet “baby grand” piano in rosewood. surrounded at some distance by a large and luxurious divan. and who enjoyed the entire confidence of his young master. but holding the potentialities of an orchestra in its narrow and sonorous cavity. with a little groom named John. held in one hand a number of papers. a valet entered. the young man had established himself in the small salon down-stairs. according to their size and quality. havanas. – was exposed in pots of crackled earthenware of which the Dutch are so fond. damasked. selected two written in a small and delicate hand. battle-axes. the guests at a breakfast of modern days love to contemplate through the vapor that escapes from their mouths. Weber. However. and their beaks forever open. the morning of the appointment. and in the other a packet of letters. and ascends in long and fanciful wreaths to the ceiling. while gratifying the eyes. a collection of German pipes. the symmetrical derangement. were swords. or. their flame-colored wings outspread in motionless flight. on a table. daggers. Malay creeses. he composed. This was Albert’s favorite lounging place. every species of tobacco known. and manillas. – from the yellow tobacco of Petersburg to the black of Sinai. over the doors. it was impossible to say. dried plants.stuffs did there. and so on along the scale from Maryland and Porto-Rico. which he gave to Albert. Haydn. and enclosed in scented envelopes. in the meantime they filled the place with their golden and silky reflections. although the cook of the hotel was always at his service. with their long tubes of morocco. with their amber mouth-pieces ornamented with coral. Albert had himself presided at the arrangement. and stuffed birds. and Porpora. in boxes of fragrant wood. There. all Albert’s establishment. on the ceiling. and. This valet. regalias. awaiting the caprice or the sympathy of the smokers. maces. they awaited. were ranged. minerals. opened them and 531 . and who only spoke English. and of narghiles. pueros. and groaning beneath the weight of the chefs-d’oeuvre of Beethoven. and inlaid suits of armor. after coffee. At a quarter to ten.

Lucien Debray. with light hair. be obliged to go to the minister – and besides” (Albert looked at his tablets). “One by the post.” The valet left the room. sir. at half past ten. get them at Borel’s.” “Let Madame Danglars know that I accept the place she offers me in her box. perhaps. tell Rosa that when I leave the Opera I will sup with her as she wishes.perused their contents with some attention. I will inquire. clear gray eyes. and the servant announced M. Wait.” “Yes. sherry. at half past ten. muttering. then. “it is the hour I told the count. a white 532 . Debray will.” A moment after. Madame Danglars’ footman left the other. ask her for one of her liqueur cellarets. one after the other. and thin and compressed lips. tore off the cover of two or three of the papers. during the day. “How did these letters come?” said he. and that I request permission to introduce some one to her. “These papers become more and more stupid every day. Take her six bottles of different wine – Cyprus. and be sure you say they are for me. the three leading papers of Paris. A tall young man. Is the countess up yet?” “If you wish.” “At what o’clock. looked at the theatre announcements. 21st May. mine is incomplete. a carriage stopped before the door. and not a ballet. and though I do not much rely upon his promise. do you breakfast?” “What time is it now?” “A quarter to ten. and threw down. Albert threw himself on the divan. and Malaga. dressed in a blue coat with beautifully carved gold buttons. and a barrel of Ostend oysters.” “Very well. hunted vainly amongst the advertisements for a new tooth-powder of which he had heard. I wish to be punctual. and tell her I shall have the honor of seeing her about three o’clock. made a face seeing they gave an opera.

but we never fall. and a tortoiseshell eye-glass suspended by a silken thread. true.. Bourges is the capital of Charles VII. Danglars (I do not know by what means that man contrives to obtain intelligence as soon as we do) made a million!” “And you another order. you drive Don Carlos out of Spain.” “Yes. carelessly. do not confound our plans. but confess you were pleased to have it. What do I say? punctuality! You.” “Oh. do not affect indifference. whom I expected last. and offer him hospitality at Bourges.” said Albert. seating himself on the divan. for I see you have a blue ribbon at your buttonhole. by an effort of the superciliary and zygomatic muscles. no.” “No.” returned Debray. “reassure yourself. good-morning.” “Ah.” 533 .” returned the young man. when the time fixed was half-past! Has the ministry resigned?” “No. my dear fellow. he has not much to complain of. “Good-morning. We take him to the other side of the French frontier. my dear fellow.neckcloth. and then the affairs of the Peninsula will completely consolidate us. without smiling or speaking. he fixed in his eye. they sent me the order of Charles III. It looks very neat on a black coat buttoned up. with a half-official air. Do you not know that all Paris knew it yesterday.” “At Bourges?” “Yes. entered. “Come. “your punctuality really alarms me. and M. and I begin to believe that we shall pass into a state of immobility. you arrive at five minutes to ten. we are tottering always. and which. it is very well as a finish to the toilet. and the day before it had already transpired on the Bourse. Lucien.

” replied Morcerf. but my head ached and I got up to have a ride for an hour.” “It is for that reason you see me so early. I returned home at daybreak. with a slight degree of irony in his voice. because I passed the night writing letters.” returned Albert. corridor A. lighting a manilla at a rosecolored taper that burnt in a beautifully enamelled stand – “how happy you are to have nothing to do. “you astonish me by the extent of your knowledge. “if you did nothing? What? private secretary to a minister. Besides. the moment they come from government you would find them execrable. that does not concern the home but the financial department. ringing the bell.” “Because you have the order of Charles III.” “On my word. while Lucien turned over. amuse me. – two enemies who rarely accompany each other. I am bored. a glass of sherry and a biscuit. here are cigars – contraband. plunged at once into European cabals and Parisian 534 .” replied Lucien. with his gold-mounted cane. Take a cigar.” “It is my duty as your host. At the Bois de Boulogne.” said Albert. No. section of the indirect contributions. – five and twenty despatches. ennui and hunger attacked me at once. and you wish to announce the good news to me?” “No. I am hungry.” “Really. a sort of Carlo-republican alliance. Address yourself to M. my dear Lucien. Humann. and persuade the minister to sell us such instead of poisoning us with cabbage leaves. and strove to sleep.. In the meantime. of course – try them. my dear Albert. and here I am. I then recollected you gave a breakfast this morning. and who are yet leagued against me. I will do nothing of the kind. You do not know your own good fortune!” “And what would you do.. my dear diplomatist. feed me. 26.” “Peste. “Germain.“And makes you resemble the Prince of Wales or the Duke of Reichstadt. the papers that lay on the table.

to protect. besides your place. I will amuse you. and other diversions. and lawyers always give you very bad dinners. I am.intrigues. can you not amuse yourself? Well.” 535 . did you ever remark that?” “Ah.” “Where does he come from – the end of the world?” “Farther still. better still. for which Chateau-Renaud offered you four hundred louis. elections to direct. with the opera. our breakfast comes from my father’s kitchen. possessing five and twenty thousand francs a year. You would think they felt some remorse.” “I know so many men already. a tailor who never disappoints you. perhaps. a horse. the jockey-club.” “The deuce! I hope he does not bring our breakfast with him.” “Oh. having kings.” “How?” “By introducing to you a new acquaintance. making more use of your cabinet with your pen and your telegraph than Napoleon did of his battle-fields with his sword and his victories. depreciate other persons’ dinners. de Villefort’s.” “A man or a woman?” “A man. parties to unite. Are you hungry?” “Humiliating as such a confession is.” “But you do not know this man. no. queens. But I dined at M. and. you ministers give such splendid ones. and which you would not part with.

You see we were quite right to pacify that country. I assure you. who detests you without reading you. but we do not invite people of fashion. come in. take another glass of sherry and another biscuit.” “Yes.” “My dear friend.” “Well. you must allow it is the best thing for the stomach. we should never dream of dining at home. Albert. Beauchamp. “do I ever read the papers?” “Then you will dispute the more. so he says.” announced the servant. you have adopted the system of feeding me on smoke this morning. Don Carlos will drink Bordeaux.” “Willingly.“Yes. if you are still in the ministry.” said Albert. but I hear Beauchamp in the next room. Your Spanish wine is excellent.” 536 . and in ten years we will marry his son to the little queen.” “About what?” “About the papers.” “Well. “Come in.” said Lucien with an air of sovereign contempt. and that will pass away the time.” “You will then obtain the Golden Fleece. rising and advancing to meet the young man. “Here is Debray.” “M. If we were not forced to entertain a parcel of country boobies because they think and vote with us. you can dispute together.” “I think. but Don Carlos?” “Well.

smiling and shaking hands with him. My dear Albert. of which you are one of the leaders. my dear Beauchamp? With your talents you would make your fortune in three or four years. I await two persons.” “I only await one thing before following your advice. one word.” returned Beauchamp. “for I criticise him without knowing what he does. Do we breakfast or dine? I must go to the Chamber. come. you ought to reap a little blue.” “In the entire political world. for I must give poor Lucien a respite. for our life is not an idle one. “Why do you not join our party. you know that already.” “They say that it is quite fair.” “You only breakfast. and that sowing so much red.” 537 . “Pardieu?” “And what do they say of it in the world?” “In which world? we have so many worlds in the year of grace 1838.” “Come. that is. and the instant they arrive we shall sit down to table.“He is quite right. commander!” “Ah. a minister who will hold office for six months. that is not bad!” said Lucien.” said the private secretary. Good-day.

I shall come back to dessert. how could we choose that?” “I understand. follow Debray’s example.Chapter 40: The Breakfast. and since we had our choice. I am waiting until you send him to speak at the Luxembourg. and take a glass of sherry and a biscuit. I will stay.” said Debray. I must do something to distract my thoughts. for were the gentleman a Montmorency. we will breakfast at eleven.” 538 . to laugh at my ease. the opposition ought to be joyous. and the diplomatist a Metternich. and cigars.” “Pardieu. Danglars’ speeches. coffee. that is exactly the worst of all. and yet it seems to me that when the minister is out of spirits. I shall take a cutlet on my way to the Chamber. “And what sort of persons do you expect to breakfast?” said Beauchamp. you must lay in a stock of hilarity.” “Be it so. “A gentleman.” “You are like Debray. and a diplomatist. in the meantime.” “Do not do anything of the sort. as they say.” “Then we shall have to wait two hours for the gentleman. I shall hear this morning that M. at least.” “Ah. you do not know with what I am threatened. Danglars make a speech at the Chamber of Deputies. “he votes for you. The devil take the constitutional government. and at his wife’s this evening I shall hear the tragedy of a peer of France. for he belongs to the opposition. keep me some strawberries. and three for the diplomatist.” “Do not run down M.

Eugenie Danglars. “it is plain that the affairs of Spain are settled. through your body. that is one more than M. “It is the social capital of a theatre on the boulevard. and the Count of Morcerf is too aristocratic to consent. therefore.” returned Lucien. every millionaire is as noble as a bastard – that is. or a railroad from the Jardin des Plantes to La Rapee.” said Albert absently. I think you are right. The Viscount of Morcerf can only wed a marchioness.” returned Beauchamp. ‘Vicomte. will pass the sword of Renaud de Montauban.” “On my word. his ancestor.” said Debray. it is true. You marry a money-bag label. he can be. let you run down the speeches of a man who will one day say to me. Morcerf. and can make him a peer. well.“My dear friend. Lucien.” “But two million francs make a nice little sum. I cannot in conscience. who. “for here is Chateau-Renaud. for the paltry sum of two million francs. laughing. “The king has made him a baron. who so nearly became King of France.” “Never mind what he says.” “Do not say that.” said Albert to Beauchamp. “do you marry her. but he cannot make him a gentleman. de Guise had. to cure you of your mania for paradoxes. You have seven martlets on your arms. you know I give my daughter two millions. besides. Debray.” replied Morcerf. to a mesalliance.” 539 .” said Beauchamp. for you are most desperately out of humor this morning. this marriage will never take place. but what does that matter? It is better to have a blazon less and a figure more on it. and whose cousin was Emperor of Germany. Recollect that Parisian gossip has spoken of a marriage between myself and Mlle. and you will still have four. give three to your wife.’“ “Ah. “for I am low – very low. “To be sure.” “He will sully it then.

” “Morrel.” said he.” said Beauchamp. “Now. Maximilian Morrel. heavens. and black mustache. to breakfast. whom our readers have already seen at Marseilles.” cried Beauchamp. you told me you only expected two persons.” muttered Albert – “Morrel – who is he?” But before he had finished. de Chateau-Renaud. be ours also. nothing worth speaking of. and what is more – however the man speaks for himself –-my preserver. The young officer bowed with easy and elegant politeness.” “Well said.” said Albert with affectionate courtesy. “for. what shall we come to next?” “M. set off his graceful and stalwart figure. my friend. half French. de Chateau-Renaud – M.” 540 . he may do as much for you as he did for me. gentleman all over.” And he stepped on one side to give place to a young man of refined and dignified bearing. half Oriental. – took Albert’s hand. you are his friend. “the count of ChateauRenaud knew how much pleasure this introduction would give me. and his broad chest was decorated with the order of the Legion of Honor. “My dear Albert.” “What has he done?” asked Albert. if you should ever be in a similar predicament. captain of Spahis.” interrupted Chateau-Renaud.“Oh. “Monsieur. “Oh. “M. then. “the minister quotes Beranger. a handsome young man of thirty. with the figure of a Guiche and the wit of a Mortemart. “and pray that. with large and open brow. Salute my hero. M. viscount.” said Morrel. under circumstances sufficiently dramatic not to be forgotten. A rich uniform. piercing eyes. “let me introduce to you M. announcing two fresh guests. Maximilian Morrel. Albert. de Chateau-Renaud exaggerates.” said the servant. if I remember. – that is.

“life is not worth speaking of! – that is rather too philosophical. who only did so once” – “We gather from all this.” replied Beauchamp. “Chateau-Renaud can tell us while we eat our breakfast.” “Gentlemen. “it is only a quarter past ten. but for me.” said Morcerf. a diplomatist!” observed Debray. “Yes? but I doubt that your object was like theirs – to rescue the Holy Sepulchre.” “Exactly so. which he terminated so entirely to my satisfaction. “Diplomat or not.” said Debray. It is very well for you. and I expect some one else. baron. “take a glass of sherry. that Captain Morrel saved your life.” said Albert gallantly.” 541 . I do not prevent your sitting down to table. since we are not to sit down to table. even had I been able to offer him the Golden Fleece and the Garter. I don’t know. and tell us all about it. my good fellow. that had I been king.” “On what occasion?” asked Beauchamp.” “Well. I should have instantly created him knight of all my orders.“Not worth speaking of?” cried Chateau-Renaud. “Beauchamp. Morrel. true. you know I am starving. who risk your life every day. on my word. I only know that he charged himself on my account with a mission.” “You all know that I had the fancy of going to Africa.” “Well.” “Ah.” “It is a road your ancestors have traced for you.” said Debray: “do not set him off on some long story.

I endured the rain during the day. I wished to try upon the Arabs the new pistols that had been given to me. one seized me by the hair (that is why I now wear it so short. for eight and forty hours. for no one knows what may happen). when this gentleman whom you see here charged them. whom I had chosen to arrange an affair. He had assigned himself the task of saving a man’s life that day. and cleft the skull of the other with his sabre. and I had good reason to be so. for I have made a vow never to return to Africa. “Well. that.” 542 . I cannot bear duelling since two seconds. “But I recollect perfectly one thing. “you did fight some time ago.” said Debray. the Arabian finds himself unable to bear ten degrees of cold in Arabia. Six Arabs came up. “you think he will bear the cold better. Beauchamp. When I am rich I will order a statue of Chance from Klagmann or Marochetti. Poor brute – accustomed to be covered up and to have a stove in the stable. full gallop. “I was retreating on foot. and I already felt the cold steel on my neck. true.“You are quite right. to cut off my head. yes. where I arrived just in time to witness the raising of the siege.” observed the young aristocrat.” said Debray. and two more with my pistols.” “That’s why you want to purchase my English horse. then?” asked Beauchamp. but the third morning my horse died of cold.” returned Chateau-Renaud. for my horse was dead. one whom you all know – poor Franz d’Epinay.” “You are mistaken. the other swung a yataghan. and went from thence to Constantine. about what?” “The devil take me.” “Ah. chance caused that man to be myself. and two were still left. shot the one who held me by the hair. being unwilling to let such talents as mine sleep.” replied Chateau-Renaud. In consequence I embarked for Oran. and the cold during the night tolerably well.” “You were very much frightened. but I was then disarmed. if I remember. forced me to break the arm of one of my best friends. I shot two with my double-barrelled gun. “It was only to fight as an amateur. I retreated with the rest.

his horse. to-day let us fill our stomachs. which he will tell you some day when you are better acquainted with him. sacrifice or not. as far as it lies in my power. heroism or not. “I was chosen.” “The history to which M. and not our memories. the sacrifice. smiling. but by giving me the whole. “besides. laughing. “ask Debray if he would sacrifice his English steed for a stranger?” “Not for a stranger. It was very hard.” said Debray. that day I owed an offering to bad fortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had on other days granted to us. “is an admirable one.” “I divined that you would become mine. he rescued me from the cold.” said Morrel. not by sharing his cloak with me. then from hunger by sharing with me – guess what?” “A Strasbourg pie?” asked Beauchamp. the anniversary of the day on which my father was miraculously preserved. “but for a friend I might.” replied Morrel. of which we each of us ate a slice with a hearty appetite. Albert?” “At half-past ten. taking out his watch. count. “it was the 5th of September. therefore.” returned Chateau-Renaud. like St.” interrupted Chateau-Renaud.” “The horse?” said Morcerf. as I had the honor to tell you. 543 . I endeavor to celebrate it by some” – “Heroic action. Martin. “No. Morrel alludes.” continued Chateau-Renaud.“Yes. “No. But that is not all – after rescuing me from the sword. perhaps.” “Precisely?” asked Debray. What time do you breakfast.

” interrupted Beauchamp.” said Albert.” said Beauchamp. it will be given to some one who has done nothing to deserve it. when I invited him three months ago. “we have only one Monthyon prize. with the five minutes’ grace. “I do not know. “You have already answered the question once.” “I will profit by them to tell you something about my guest. you will give me five minutes’ grace. “that is the way the Academy mostly escapes from the dilemma.“Oh. and for a most curious one. and that there are only Arabs who cut off heads? Our breakfast is a philanthropic one.” “What shall we do?” said Debray. “for I also expect a preserver. but so vaguely that I venture to put it a second time. do you think I cannot be saved as well as any one else.” “And where does he come from?” asked Debray.” “Of whom?” “Of myself. we have only ten left. and we shall have at table – at least.” “Really.” “I beg pardon.” replied Morcerf.” “Well. but since that time who knows where he may have gone?” “And you think him capable of being exact?” demanded Debray. “parbleu. I hope so – two benefactors of humanity.” 544 . “are there any materials for an article in what you are going to tell us?” “Yes. he was then at Rome.” “Well.” cried Morcerf. “I think him capable of everything.

we are sufficiently well-bred to excuse you. like Madame de Maintenon. and to listen to your history. or rather most admirable ones.” “And I did more than that.” “Come. at ten minutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saints and glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor of being. but what you do not know is that I was carried off by bandits. I had not above 1. you are going to replace the dish by a story. Unfortunately. for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this morning. The brigands had carried me off. that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend or Marennes. for I found them ugly enough to frighten me. called the Catacombs of Saint Sebastian. Say so at once. and Signor Luigi Vampa.” “We know that. I tell it as a true one from beginning to end.” cried Debray. “Yes there are. would have scrupulously kept his word.000 francs. my dear Albert.” said Debray. then. and I must make up for it.” replied Morcerf. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum of 4. “I narrowly escaped catching a fever there.” “And I say to you.” “I was at Rome during the last Carnival.” said Chateau-Renaud.500. I was at the end of my journey and of my credit. fabulous as it promises to be. “confess that your cook is behindhand. and that. “for I caught one. such was the name of the chief of these bandits.” “I know it. fabulous as it may seem. “Yes.“Go on. and most hideous.” said Beauchamp.” “There are no bandits.” 545 . and conducted me to a gloomy spot.000 Roman crowns – about 24. I wrote to Franz – and were he here he would confirm every word – I wrote then to Franz that if he did not come with the four thousand crowns before six.

” “No. “I do not think so.” “No.” “Why. he is a man about my own size.” said ChateauRenaud. a Perseus freeing Andromeda. with the air of a man who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly.“But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns.” “But he paid your ransom?” “He said two words to the chief and I was free.” “Armed to the teeth?” “He had not even a knitting-needle. “A man whose name is Franz d’Epinay or Albert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuring them.” “There is no Count of Monte Cristo” said Debray. he is a second Ariosto. this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus. “Just so. his name is the Count of Monte Cristo.” “And they apologized to him for having carried you off?” said Beauchamp. “Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?” 546 .” “Ah.” added Chateau-Renaud.” “No. he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am going to present to you.

” “I do not understand you.” “Which means?” “Which means that my Count of Monte Cristo is one of those fishermen.” “But that ought to be visible. “Well.“He comes possibly from the Holy Land.” “He is rich. as the Mortemarts did the Dead Sea. do you know if the persons you see there are rich or poor. then?” “I believe so. if their sacks of wheat are not rubies or diamonds? They seem like poor fishermen. since he calls himself Sinbad the Sailor. and one of his ancestors possessed Calvary. he has purchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany.” “Precisely!” cried Albert. He has even a name taken from the book. Debray.” “I think I can assist your researches. he of whom I speak is the lord and master of this grain of sand.” “Have you read the ‘Arabian Nights’?” “What a question!” “Well.” said Maximilian.” 547 . of this atom.” “That is what deceives you. and has a cave filled with gold. an atom in the infinite. and suddenly they open some mysterious cavern filled with the wealth of the Indies. “Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spoken of by the old sailors my father employed – a grain of sand in the centre of the Mediterranean.

“have heard something like this from an old sailor named Penelon.” said Debray. lest on the first demonstration I make in favor of Mehemet Ali.” “You say very true.” “Now you get angry. “what you tell us is so extraordinary.” “No. are you not.” said Albert.” responded Debray.” “Ah. and was waited on by mutes and by women to whom Cleopatra was a painted strumpet. “but this has nothing to do with the existence of the Count of Monte Cristo. not a word of this before him. They are too much taken up with interfering in the affairs of their countrymen who travel. or are you laughing at us?” “And I also.” 548 . for they did not come in until after he had taken hashish. the Sultan send me the bowstring. but Franz has. so that now they have scarcely any.” cried Albert. “No. you are vexed. so that what he took for women might have been simply a row of statues. Morrel comes to aid me. – “Are you mad. Will you be ambassador. “Yes.” “Ah.“And you have seen this cavern. because your ambassadors and your consuls do not tell you of them – they have no time. Morcerf?” asked Beauchamp. for heaven’s sake. and make my secretaries strangle me. “it is very lucky that M.” said Morrel thoughtfully. Franz went in with his eyes blindfolded. Albert? I will send you to Constantinople. and attack our poor agents. Only he is not quite sure about the women. How will you have them protect you? The Chamber cuts down their salaries every day.” The two young men looked at Morcerf as if to say. that he thus gives a clew to the labyrinth?” “My dear Albert.

” 549 . the iris of which contracts or dilates at pleasure. black beard. every one has not black slaves.“Pardieu.” “Doubtless. more from hearing the cold and calm manner in which he spoke of every description of torture. and Greek mistresses. keen and cutting politeness.” “Have you seen the Greek mistress?” “I have both seen and heard her.” said Debray. an arsenal of weapons that would do credit to an Arabian fortress.” “He eats.” “He must be a vampire. “you have described him feature for feature. magnificent forehead. I thought I should faint. declared that the count was a vampire. Lucien. and heard her one morning when I breakfasted with the count.” “Laugh. than from the sight of the executioner and the culprit. but not in the same way. I saw her at the theatre. who knew Lord Ruthven. Yes.” “Wild eyes.” “Just so. every one exists. here is the pendant to the famous sea-serpent of the Constitutionnel. it can hardly be called eating.” said Beauchamp. then?” “Yes.” returned Morcerf. the Countess G–– . capital. if you will. but so little. a princely retinue. and one day that we were viewing an execution. “facial angle strongly developed. sharp and white teeth. politeness unexceptionable. This man has often made me shudder.” “Ah. livid complexion. “For a man not connected with newspapers. horses that cost six thousand francs apiece.

” said Monte Cristo. but the most fastidious dandy could have found nothing to cavil at in his toilet. according to one of your sovereigns.” cried Beauchamp. dressed with the greatest simplicity. “His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo. 550 . Every article of dress – hat. “There is half-past ten striking. He seemed scarcely five and thirty.“Did he not conduct you to the ruins of the Colosseum and suck your blood?” asked Beauchamp. and approached Albert. “At the same time. But the sound of the clock had not died away when Germain announced. or steps in the ante-chamber. “No Count of Monte Cristo” added Debray. and let us sit down to breakfast. coat. “When I look at you Parisians. “Or. The count advanced.” returned Beauchamp. He had not heard a carriage stop in the street. somewhat piqued. idlers on the Boulevard de Gand or the Bois de Boulogne. but it is not the same with travellers. But what struck everybody was his extreme resemblance to the portrait Debray had drawn. it seems to me we are not of the same race. The count appeared. who hastened towards him holding out his hand in a ceremonial manner.” “I am highly flattered. “No vampire. make you sign a flaming parchment. “your Count of Monte Cristo is a very fine fellow. into the centre of the room.” “There are no Italian banditti. Albert.” continued Beauchamp. rail on at your ease.” The involuntary start every one gave proved how much Morcerf’s narrative had impressed them. and boots – was from the first makers. always excepting his little arrangements with the Italian banditti. surrendering your soul to him as Esau did his birth-right?” “Rail on. I think.” “Confess you have dreamed this. having delivered you.” said Debray. and Albert himself could not wholly refrain from manifesting sudden emotion.” said Morcerf. gentlemen.” added Chateau-Renaud. “Punctuality. and think of this man. “is the politeness of kings. the door had itself opened noiselessly. smiling. gloves.

an editor of a paper.” continued Albert. and the terror of the French government. “You have never seen our Africans.” No one could have said what caused the count’s voice to vibrate so deeply.” replied the count. you perhaps have not heard in Italy.” said the count. de Morcerf. lustrous. and a slight tinge of red colored his pale cheeks.” At this name the count. count?” said Albert. I hope you will excuse the two or three seconds I am behindhand. Maximilian Morrel. I request you to allow me to introduce him as my friend. which was in general so clear. monsieur. it seems. “Let me go on.” “My dear count. Beauchamp. “it is a handsome uniform. “Ah. and especially in France.” interrupted Morrel. since his paper is prohibited there. although I have seen him to-day for the first time. and slight trembling of the eyelid that show emotion. whom I had invited in consequence of the promise you did me the honor to make. captain. but at the same time with coldness and formality. beneath this uniform beats one of the bravest and noblest hearts in the whole army.However. “of a new deed of his. captain of Spahis.” replied Albert. M. stepped a pace forward. whose nobility goes back to the twelve peers. who had hitherto saluted every one with courtesy. “Never. and whom I now present to you. in spite of his national celebrity. private secretary to the minister of the interior. “I was announcing your visit to some of my friends. you have a noble heart.” At these words it was still possible to observe in Monte Cristo the concentrated look. and whose ancestors had a place at the Round Table.” said he. where. and M. that. five hundred leagues are not to be accomplished without some trouble. M. They are the Count of Chateau-Renaud. M. “so much the 551 . it is forbidden to beat the postilions.” “Oh. and what made his eye flash. who was by this time perfectly master of himself again. And we have just heard. and limpid when he pleased. “You wear the uniform of the new French conquerors. but of whom. changing color. Lucien Debray. “Well. and so heroic a one.

surprised everybody. “permit me to make a confession which must form my excuse for any improprieties I may commit. who. Debray. in spite of the singular remark he has made about me. I beg you. “Gentlemen. and especially Morrel. The French way of living is utterly unknown to me. “My dear count. M. the Parisian mode of life should displease the traveller in the most essential point. “I fear one thing.” replied the latter. a most temperate guest.” “With what an air he says all this.” “A great man in his own country. had penetrated at once all that was penetrable in Monte Cristo. too Italian. “A great man in every country. which are entirely in contrast to the Parisian. “Why should he doubt it?” said Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud.” “Gentlemen. however strange the speech might seem.better. What say you. at the outset. Albert remarked this.” They passed silently into the breakfast-room.” said Albert. for the count is a most singular being.” This exclamation. that this is the first time I have ever been at Paris.” said he. The count was. “In reality. it was impossible to be offended at it. expressing his fears lest. But. which corresponded to the count’s own thought rather than to what Albert was saying.” said the count. at the same time. “decidedly he is a great man. I am a stranger. and up to the present time I have followed the Eastern customs. “Germain informs me that breakfast is ready. “Albert has not deceived us. the intonation was so soft that. Morrel!” “Ma foi. seating himself. and a stranger to such a degree. and every one took his place. Now. or too Arabian. to excuse if you find anything in me too Turkish. he has an open look about him that pleases me. who looked at Monte Cristo with wonder. therefore.” said Chateau-Renaud. it may be remembered. that the fare of the Rue du 552 .” added Debray. My dear count.” muttered Beauchamp. then. let us breakfast. allow me to show you the way. and that is. with his aristocratic glance and his knowledge of the world.

polenta at Milan. so that I was somewhat late.” “What. and swallows’ nests in China. who has successively lived on maccaroni at Naples.” returned the count. and today.” 553 . I eat everywhere. and have had some dishes prepared expressly.” “Did you know me better. I ought to have consulted you on the point. only I eat but little.” cried all the guests. is my day of appetite. as I generally do when I am weary without having the courage to amuse myself. who have not always any food to eat. olla podrida at Valencia. “I was forced to go out of my road to obtain some information near Nimes. and of everything. pilau at Constantinople. or when I am hungry without feeling inclined to eat. smiling. I slept. karrick in India. that you reproach me with my want of appetite. “you would not give one thought of such a thing for a traveller like myself.” replied the count. monsieur?” said Morrel. for I have not eaten since yesterday morning.” “And you ate in your carriage?” asked Morcerf. “No. and rarely anything to drink. and therefore I did not choose to stop. “Yes.” “That would be invaluable to us in Africa.Helder is not so much to your taste as that of the Piazza di Spagni.” “You have a recipe for it?” “An infallible one.” “But you can sleep when you please. “you have not eaten for four and twenty hours?” “No.

“Yes. “Oh. which would contain about a dozen.” replied Monte Cristo. “No. monsieur. between the Tigris and the Euphrates. There were four or five more in the emerald.” returned Monte Cristo. unfortunately. was very incredulous. yes.” said Beauchamp. This ball had an acrid and penetrating odor. but it was more to examine the admirable emerald than to see the pills that it passed from hand to hand. and prepare my pills myself.” “Yes. and the best hashish which grows in the East – that is. who. I think he tasted them one day.” “May we inquire what is this recipe?” asked Debray. which might not awake when it was needed. I am a tolerable chemist. which I fetched myself from Canton in order to have it pure. a recipe excellent for a man like myself would be very dangerous applied to an army. monsieur. and formed into pills.” said Monte Cristo. “but.” 554 . These two ingredients are mixed in equal proportions.” returned the count. the effect is produced. “I do not thus betray my enjoyments to the vulgar. “you always carry this drug about you?” “Always. Ask Baron Franz d’Epinay. “I make no secret of it. “And is it your cook who prepares these pills?” asked Beauchamp. The casket passed around the table.” “But. formed out of a single emerald and closed by a golden lid which unscrewed and gave passage to a small greenish colored pellet about the size of a pea. “he said something about it to me. “Oh. and he drew from his pocket a marvellous casket. as became a journalist.” “Would it be an indiscretion to ask to see those precious pills?” continued Beauchamp. hoping to take him at a disadvantage. It is a mixture of excellent opium.” replied Morcerf. no. Ten minutes after one is taken.

another to our holy father the Pope. he spoke with so much simplicity that it was evident he spoke the truth. Denis’ or ‘the Faubourg St. or in the Thermes de Julien. you have no idea what pleasure it gives me to hear you speak thus.’ ‘ten. smiling. the sight of the emerald made them naturally incline to the former belief. who had it set in his tiara. opposite to one nearly as large.’ ‘four persons have been assassinated in the Rue St. For example.” said Chateau-Renaud. but the Parisians are so subtle in paradoxes that they mistake for caprices of the imagination the most incontestable truths. or twenty thieves. and Beauchamp who prints. However.” “And it was Peppino you saved. given by the Emperor Napoleon to his predecessor. have been arrested in a cafe on the Boulevard du Temple.” “I had three similar ones. “The Sultan. and the largest I have ever seen. “the Pope. “I gave one to the Sultan. or that he was mad. so that once in my life I have been as powerful as if heaven had brought me into the world on the steps of a throne. when these truths do not form a part of their daily existence. “I had announced you beforehand to my friends as an enchanter of the ‘Arabian Nights.” returned Monte Cristo. here is Debray who reads. fifteen. and I had it hollowed out.” returned the count.’ a wizard of the Middle Ages. “it was for him that you obtained pardon?” “Perhaps. but rendered it more commodious for the purpose I intended. “although my mother has some remarkable family jewels.” said Morcerf.“This is a magnificent emerald. which reduced its value. “And what did these two sovereigns give you in exchange for these magnificent presents?” asked Debray. Pius VII. the liberty of a woman. the life of a man. who mounted it in his sabre. I kept the third for myself.’ – and yet these same 555 . “My dear count. every day.” replied the Count. ‘A member of the Jockey Club has been stopped and robbed on the Boulevard. though not so fine. Germain. was it not?” cried Morcerf.” Every one looked at Monte Cristo with astonishment.

” “It was not I who made that promise.” “It seems to me. instead of receiving them in my humble abode in the Rue du Helder. aided by seven or eight others. just as I was about to imprint a chaste salute on his lips. Pray speak of it. all that I do not know?” “That is but fair. I mistook for this peasant girl a young bandit of fifteen or sixteen. relate the little I do know. at a quarter past six I should have ceased to exist. for I shall not only. “that you played a sufficiently important part to know as well as myself what happened. signed by me. Tell them yourself that I was taken by bandits. while I was simply the object of the attentions of a contadina. to the Catacombs of St. a greater fool than he of whom I spoke just now. “for three days I believed myself the object of the attentions of a masque. to relate. What I know is. Sebastian. that. I trust. Sebastian. that unless the next morning. whom I took for a descendant of Tullia or Poppoea.” returned the count. the Campagna di Romana.” “Well.” said Morcerf.” cried Morcerf. you promise me. or rather dragged me.’ and who deigned to leave off reading to inform me.men deny the existence of the bandits in the Maremma. like a fool. and whom you have forgotten. and. for it is in Franz d’Epinay’s possession. four thousand piastres were paid into his account at his banker’s.” “Ah. “it must have been some one else whom you have rescued in the same manner. led. smiling. before six o’clock. and who. The letter is still to be seen.” replied Monte Cristo. placed a pistol to my head. or the Pontine Marshes. where I found a highly educated brigand chief perusing Caesar’s ‘Commentaries. “Well. and I say contadina to avoid saying peasant girl. with a beardless chin and slim waist. and that without your generous intercession I should now have been sleeping in the Catacombs of St. if I tell all I know. in your turn.” said Monte Cristo “you promised me never to mention that circumstance. but also a great deal I do not know. and 556 .

which is somewhat expeditious. laughing. but I never seek to protect a society which does not protect me. it was I who captured him and a dozen of his band. and which you may have seen in my collection of arms. and which I will even say. Perhaps what I am about to say may seem strange to you. who are socialists. but I know not. “But I am sure that the count does not regret having once deviated from the principles he has so boldly avowed. “I see they kept their promise. at least.” “Bravo.” said Beauchamp. and vaunt humanity and your duty to your neighbor. Franz and I were lost in admiration. Bravo.” “Nothing more simple. and he. monsieur.” returned Monte Cristo “upon the simple condition that they should respect myself and my friends.with a postscript of M.” cried Chateau-Renaud. how you contrived to inspire so much respect in the bandits of Rome who ordinarily have so little respect for anything.” returned the count. Luigi Vampa.” 557 . count.” “No. or whether he did not recollect me. in order to repay me. which ought to have cemented our friendship. and which would have been particularly so with him.” said Morrel. whether he had forgotten this interchange of presents. I assure you.” “With the condition that they should sin no more. I might have handed him over to Roman justice. it is society and my neighbor who are indebted to me. the hilt of which he had carved with his own hand. and only a shepherd. “you are the first man I ever met sufficiently courageous to preach egotism. In after years. he sought to take me. but. This is all I know. I gave him a few gold pieces for showing me my way. count. on the contrary. “I had known the famous Vampa for more than ten years. generally occupies itself about me only to injure me. but I did nothing of the sort – I suffered him and his band to depart. gave me a poniard. and preserving a neutrality towards them. When he was quite a child. and thus by giving them a low place in my esteem. bravo!” “It is frank.

the pretended eulogies I have received. “that in delivering M. and yet the first day you set foot in Paris you instinctively display the greatest virtue. and saw with you from a window in the Piazza del Popolo the execution that affected you so much that you nearly fainted. for I knew you from the time I gave up two rooms to you. “My dear count.” replied Morrel. as you term him? Besides. “but I fear that you will be much disappointed. lent you one of my carriages. “I do not see. a Levantine. could I leave my guest in the hands of a hideous bandit. anything that merits. monsieur?” asked Monte Cristo. Sinbad the Sailor is your baptismal appellation.” “Of which he is the brightest ornament. I will appeal to any of these gentlemen. I had the idea that you could introduce me into some of the Paris salons when I came to France.” said Beauchamp.” cried Morcerf. de Morcerf. whom you did not know.“How have I deviated from those principles.” returned Monte Cristo. Indian. You were no stranger to me. Ah. you assume the vices you have not. you know. and conceal the virtues you possess. it seems to me. drinking off a glass of champagne. your family name is Monte Cristo. of us eccentric Parisians. you did good to your neighbor and to society. one of the most formidable logicians I know – and you must see it clearly proved that instead of being an egotist. Maltese.” “I will keep it.” returned Morcerf. invited you to breakfast with me. that two or three times the young man had been unable to sustain that clear and piercing glance. and you must submit to it under penalty of breaking your word. “Why. “you are at fault – you. but to-day you see it was a reality. You might some time ago have looked upon this resolution as a vague project. – that is. either from you or these gentlemen. you call yourself Oriental. accustomed as you are to picturesque events and fantastic 558 .” “My dear vicomte. or rather the chief defect. witnessed the Carnival in your company. in all I have done. Chinese. who could not help looking at Morrel with so much intensity. you are a philanthropist.

and your talent” (Monte Cristo bowed with a somewhat ironical smile) “you can present yourself everywhere.” “And he who says in ‘projection. “No. you may depend upon me to find you a fitting dwelling here. France is so prosaic. “that is a most conjugal reservation. in these eighty-five departments a single hill on which there is not a telegraph. I recollect that at Rome you said something of a projected marriage. except myself. besides. to introduce you. you everywhere. and I hope.” said the count. that is. to present. Amongst us you will not meet with any of those episodes with which your adventurous existence has so familiarized you. these rooms would not hold a shadow more. then. unless that shadow were feminine. of the means of rendering yourself comfortable. as I shared yours at Rome – I. who do not profess egotism. and your fortune. our Chimborazo is Mortmartre. our Great Desert is the plain of Grenelle. though not so many as is said. or a grotto in which the commissary of police has not put up a gaslamp. our Himalaya is Mount Valerien. and Paris so civilized a city. and for that I place myself entirely at your orders. and be well received. “my father is most anxious about it. I do not dare offer to share my apartments with you. but am yet egotist par excellence.” replied Morcerf.” “Ah. May I congratulate you?” “The affair is still in projection. because I do not include Corsica – you will not find. We have plenty of thieves. ere long.’ means already decided. if not to my wife. at least to my betrothed – Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars. where they are now boring an artesian well to water the caravans. that you will not find in its eighty-five departments – I say eighty-five. I can be useful in one way only – if knowledge of Parisian habits. but these thieves stand in far more dread of a policeman than a lord. can assist. or make my friends present. you have no need of any one to introduce you – with your name.” 559 . There is but one service I can render you. or of the bazaars. for.horizons.” said Debray.

” said Monte Cristo. not. and Thomson & French at Rome. Arstein & Eskeles of Vienna. This house. in 1829. laughing. and has. in his waistcoat-pocket.. “tell me. “Although in reality a Liberal. Beauchamp.” said he.” returned Morcerf. “but I shall probably soon make his acquaintance. he negotiated a loan of six millions for Charles X. who made him a baron and chevalier of the Legion of Honor. fruitless. “Can my influence with them be of any service to you?” “Oh. did ours a great service.“Eugenie Danglars. he was not mistaken – Maximilian started as if he had been electrified. “Beauchamp.” said Monte Cristo bowing. turning to Monte Cristo.” “What matter. is not her father Baron Danglars?” “Yes.” answered Beauchamp.” Then.” said Monte Cristo “if he has rendered the State services which merit this distinction?” “Enormous ones. “a baron of a new creation. “You just now spoke his name as if you knew the baron?” “I do not know him. “do you know this house. count. keep that for the Corsaire or the Charivari. If the stranger expected to produce an effect on Morrel.” “I shall be at your orders. you could assist me perhaps in researches which have been. “Thomson & French.” returned Monte Cristo. 560 . so that he wears the ribbon. but at his button-hole. but spare my future father-in-law before me. the count glanced at Maximilian Morrel. up to the present. monsieur?” “They are my bankers in the capital of the Christian world.” As he pronounced the two last names. in past years.” returned the count quietly. as you would think.” “Ah. for I have a credit opened with him by the house of Richard & Blount. I know not for what reason. always denied having rendered us this service. of London.” interrupted Morcerf.

The count will have his cushions of silver cloth brought there. but I expected the count would be tempted by one of the brilliant proposals made him.” “Bah. a most excellent sister. then. smiling. count – live in the Chaussee d’Antin.” “Happy?” asked the count again. see all Paris pass before him. 561 .” “Oh.” said Chateau-Renaud. gentlemen. “you do not propose anything. that my sister has inhabited for a year. yes. “a propos of Danglars. and as he smokes his chibouque. let us all propose some place. with a court and garden.“But. I will venture to offer him a suite of apartments in a charming hotel. – we have strangely wandered from the subject.” said Beauchamp. in the Pompadour style. “Yes. “on the contrary. yet as he has not replied to any of them. Come.” “You have a sister?” asked the count. do not pay any attention to him. I have one. Chateau-Renaud.” continued Morcerf.” “Boulevard de l’Opera.” returned the young man.” “You have no idea. “The count will find there a charming hotel. “you only know your dull and gloomy Faubourg Saint-Germain. Where shall we lodge this new guest in our great capital?” “Faubourg Saint-Germain. We were speaking of a suitable habitation for the Count of Monte Cristo.” returned Debray.” “Married?” “Nearly nine years. Morrel?” asked Chateau-Renaud. that’s the real centre of Paris. in the Rue Meslay. “the second floor – a house with a balcony. monsieur.

who remained faithful to us in our fallen fortunes – Emmanuel Herbaut. you are going to make a patriarch of him. a valet de chambre who knows Paris?” said Beauchamp. “She married the man she loved.” cried Albert. I sent on my valet de chambre.” continued Maximilian. at Rome you spent fifty thousand piastres in furnishing your apartments. monsieur. “and I shall be. but I cannot accept the offer of any one of these gentlemen. the count will be in his own house. together with my brother-in-law Emmanuel.” cried Morcerf. then. “you are. no. “I shall content myself with being presented to your sister and her husband.” replied Maximilian.” “But you have. and happy. young. “but as I determined to have a house to myself. and only see them when he thinks fit to do so.” said Morrel.” “Thanks. if you will do me the honor to introduce me. since my habitation is already prepared.“As happy as it is permitted to a human creature to be. 562 .” Monte Cristo smiled imperceptibly. whenever he thinks fit to honor us.” “Was I so badly lodged at Rome?” said Monte Cristo smiling.” “Oh.” “It is not that which deterred me. you are going to immure a traveller. then. going to an hotel – that will be very dull for you. “Parbleu.” replied Monte Cristo. without giving Monte Cristo the time to reply. “Take care. they are gay.” said Monte Cristo. and he ought by this time to have bought the house and furnished it. Sinbad the Sailor.” “What. my brother-in-law is thirty. “I live there during my leave of absence. but I presume that you are not disposed to spend a similar sum every day. a man who comes to see Paris.” “One minute. Besides. at the disposition of the Count. “my sister is five and twenty.

it contains the number of my new abode. he will choose everything as I wish.” returned Monte Cristo. do you not know your house?” asked Debray. He is black. in the midst of the general surprise.” said Beauchamp. “I told you I did not wish to be behind my time. read it yourself. But how could you charge a Nubian to purchase a house.” “Thanks.” replied Monte Cristo. “I am quite sure.” 563 . in my quality of journalist. why should he tell a falsehood? “We must content ourselves. “my steward has orders to take a box at each theatre. He gave me this paper. I.“It is the first time he has ever been in Paris. He knew. He has been here a week. He will arrange everything for me.” said Beauchamp. I think. He knows my tastes. open all the theatres to him. at Rome. that. with the instinct of a hound. that is really original. “No. and descended at the viscount’s door. on the contrary. Ali himself. monsieur. I dressed myself in the carriage. and cannot speak. “Yes. “with rendering the count all the little services in our power. but every word he uttered had such an air of simplicity.” The young men looked at each other. “Ah. he was waiting for me at nine at the Barriere de Fontainebleau. my caprices. they did not know if it was a comedy Monte Cristo was playing. that it was impossible to suppose what he said was false – besides. my Nubian mute. “What.” returned Monte Cristo. and a mute to furnish it? – he will do everything wrong. monsieur.” and Monte Cristo passed a paper to Albert.” said Monte Cristo. hunting by himself.” “Undeceive yourself. that I should arrive to-day at ten o’clock. “It is Ali!” cried Albert.” said Morcerf. whom you saw. my wants. “I recollect him perfectly.” added Chateau-Renaud.” “Certainly. “And very princely. then.

and that the moment she puts her foot in France your slave becomes free. He thought of the fair Greek he had seen in the count’s box at the Argentina and Valle theatres. “I have something better than that.“Is your steward also a Nubian?” asked Debray. a steward. the Vaudeville.” “Then.” “Is it that excellent M.” replied the count. I am sure he answers my purpose. he has been a soldier. everything. if a Corsican is a countryman of any one’s. “No. But you know him.” “Who will tell her?” “The first person who sees her. you only want a mistress. a smuggler – in fact. he is a countryman of yours.” said Debray. You procure your mistresses from the opera. Bertuccio. for instance. “not more than another. you saw him the day I had the honor of receiving you.” Albert smiled. but I have nothing to fear. I would not be quite sure that he has not been mixed up with the police for some trifle – a stab with a knife.” continued Chateau-Renaud. M. it cost me more. “I have a slave. or the Varietes.” “And you have chosen this honest citizen for your steward.” 564 .” replied Debray. as King Charles said. “that we are Franks by name and franks by nature.” said Monte Cristo. laughing.” “She only speaks Romaic. I purchased mine at Constantinople. and so I keep him. “since you have an establishment. knows no impossibility. and a hotel in the Champs Elysees. who understands hiring windows so well?” “Yes.” “But you forget. “Of how much does he rob you every year?” “On my word. de Morcerf.

“That is different. good morning. we have three millions for our police.” “Bravo.” said Beauchamp to Albert. I must return to the minister’s.” “And when you know. Gentlemen. but you leave the best company to go into the worst sometimes. and we shall soon know who he is. Debray called out loudly. but I have something better to offer my readers than a speech of M.” “But at least we shall see her.” “Take care.” As he left the room. no matter.” said Beauchamp. I will tell him of the count. Beauchamp.” “Oh. “it is half-past two.” “For heaven’s sake. we shall still have fifty thousand francs to spend for this purpose. it is true they are almost always spent beforehand. but. no. “or do you keep eunuchs as well as mutes?” “Oh. Every one who surrounds me is free to quit me.” They had long since passed to dessert and cigars.” replied Monte Cristo.” returned Morcerf. perhaps. rising. Morrel?” 565 .” said Debray. will you tell me?” “I promise you.” replied Chateau-Renaud. Albert. Are you coming. Your guest is charming. “My dear Albert. it is for that reason. “I shall not go to the Chamber. “My carriage. Is he not peculiar?” “He is more than that. Danglars. Au revoir. and when they leave me will no longer have any need of me or any one else. that they do not quit me. “he is one of the most extraordinary men I ever saw in my life. “no one has been able to accomplish that.” returned Albert. “do not deprive me of the merit of introducing him everywhere. “I do not carry brutalism so far.

” returned the count.“Directly I have given my card to the count. leaving Monte Cristo alone with Morcerf. bowing. 14. No. And Maximilian Morrel left the room with the Baron de Chateau-Renaud. who has promised to pay us a visit at Rue Meslay.” “Be sure I shall not fail to do so. 566 .

pastels by Giraud and Muller. with their long white burnouses. which was. their shining belts. their horses. their lowing oxen and marvellous skies. “My dear count. I will open the windows to let you breathe. and at the first glance he recognized their date. with their long reeds and tall trees. their damasked arms. all that modern art can give in exchange and as recompense for the art lost and gone with ages long since past. as we have said. Oriental stuffs. mineralogy. his favorite apartment. on the contrary. The salon was filled with the works of modern artists. who makes his flowers more beautifu