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THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO by Alexandre Dumas, Pere

Chapter 1. Marseilles--The Arrival. On the 24th of February, 1815, 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 a-cockbill, 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. 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. "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." 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." "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?" "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 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. "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." "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." "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 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?" "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.

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." "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?" "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." "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 to-morrow we shall have more." "Gently, will use too many in order gently," said the old man, with a smile; "and by your leave I your purse moderately, for they would say, if they saw me buy things at a time, that I had been obliged to await your return, 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. "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 chances that at times there are others who have need a gesture. "I do not allude to you, my boy. No!--no! and you returned it; that's like good neighbors, and anything; and it of me." Dantes made I lent you money, 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." "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. "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. "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?" "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!" "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.

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 dead-leaf 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 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. 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?" "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." 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?" "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, offered him his hand. His hatred, like a powerless though furious was broken against the strong ascendancy which Mercedes exercised him. Scarcely, however, had he touched Edmond's hand than he felt done all he could do, and rushed hastily out of the house. and wave, over he had

"Oh," he exclaimed, running furiously and tearing his hair--"Oh, who will deliver me from this man? Wretched--wretched that I am!" "Hallo, Catalan! Hallo, Fernand! where are you running to?" exclaimed a voice. The young man stopped suddenly, looked around him, and perceived Caderousse sitting at table with Danglars, under an arbor. "Well", said Caderousse, "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," added Danglars. Fernand looked at them both with a stupefied air, but did not say a word. "He seems besotted," said Danglars, pushing Caderousse with his knee. "Are we mistaken, and is Dantes triumphant in spite of all we have believed?" "Why, we must inquire into that," was Caderousse's reply; and turning towards the young man, said, "Well, Catalan, can't you make up your mind?" Fernand wiped away the perspiration steaming from his brow, and slowly entered the arbor, whose shade seemed to restore somewhat of calmness to his senses, and whose coolness somewhat of refreshment to his exhausted body. "Good-day," said he. "You called me, didn't you?" And he fell, rather than sat down, on one of the seats which surrounded the table. "I called you because you were running like a madman, and I was afraid you would throw yourself into the sea," said Caderousse, laughing. "Why, when a man has friends, they are not only to offer him a glass of wine, but, moreover, to prevent his swallowing three or four pints of water unnecessarily!" Fernand gave a groan, which resembled a sob, and dropped his head into his hands, his elbows leaning on the table. "Well, Fernand, I must say," said Caderousse, beginning the conversation, with that brutality of the common people in which curiosity destroys all diplomacy, "you look uncommonly like a rejected

and they told me the Catalans were not men to allow themselves to be supplanted by a rival.lover. and filling his own for the eighth or ninth time." said Caderousse. pouring out a glass of wine for Fernand." answered Caderousse. It was even told me that Fernand." "My health is well enough. or perchance faithless! These things always come on us more severely when they come suddenly. while Danglars had merely sipped his. But I thought you were a Catalan." "Ah. lifting up his head. "Poor fellow!" remarked Danglars." During this time Danglars fixed his piercing glance on the young man. on whose heart Caderousse's words fell like molten lead. . was terrible in his vengeance. he did not expect to see Dantes return so suddenly--he thought he was dead. is he. but it appears. come." said Caderousse. "Mercedes is not accountable to any person. is a good and brave Catalan." "Well. "Poor Fernand has been dismissed. clinching his hands without raising his head. you understand!" "No. if you take it in that sense. "a lad of his make was not born to be unhappy in love." "No." he said. "And when is the wedding to be?" he asked. never mind. and looking at Caderousse like a man who looks for some one on whom to vent his anger. "A lover is never terrible. winking at his friend. "Ah." he replied.--"under any circumstances Fernand is not the only person put out by the fortunate arrival of Dantes. Danglars?" "No. Danglars. "hold up your head. under any circumstances. "Never mind--in the meantime he marries Mercedes--the lovely Mercedes--at least he returns to do that. You are laughing at him. Fernand." said Fernand. affecting to pity the young man from the bottom of his heart. you are right--and I should say that would bring him ill-luck. "only hark how he sighs! Come. whom you see here. unfortunately. "this is how it is. "it is another thing." and he burst into a hoarse laugh. who drank as he spoke. and answer us. it is not yet fixed!" murmured Fernand. I do not understand." continued Caderousse." said Danglars. is she? Is she not free to love whomsoever she will?" "Oh. "Why. you see. and what then?" said Fernand. and he is in love with a very fine girl. "Well. Caderousse. ma foi. "Bah!" said Danglars." said Caderousse. named Mercedes. "Oh." Fernand smiled piteously. one of the best fishermen in Marseilles. It's not polite not to reply to friends who ask news of your health. Fernand. and on whom the fumes of the wine began to take effect. and as the Pharaon arrived to-day--why. perhaps. you see. especially." said Caderousse. that the fine girl is in love with the mate of the Pharaon.

eh. as the bull is by the bandilleros." was the reply. now!" said Caderousse. "and I am very much afraid of being here between a drunkard and a coward. and he will marry the splendid girl--he will be captain." said Caderousse. probably excited beyond bearing. "Yes. "I shall get nothing from these fools. I believe I see double. and follow his example. "What do I see down there by the wall. filling the glasses. Fernand dashed his on the ground. for he had risen from his seat. but it will be. and Calabrians. lovely damsel! Come this way."No. your eyes are better than mine. Danglars looked at the two men. and hand in hand. You know wine is a deceiver. Fernand. and they are actually embracing!" Danglars did not lose one pang that Fernand endured. At this Fernand recollected her threat of dying if Edmond died. "Do you know them. look at Fernand. and the other has fists big enough to crush an ox at one blow. and swallowed the contents at a gulp. in the direction of the Catalans? Look. Danglars?" Danglars shuddered at this unexpected attack. unless"--a sinister smile passed over Danglars' lips--"unless I take a hand in the affair." he muttered. Edmond's star is in the ascendant. Here's an envious fellow making himself boozy on wine when he ought to be nursing his wrath. and dropped again heavily on his seat. will you?" said Danglars. whose countenance he scrutinized. and turned to Caderousse. See. was about to rush out. "as surely as Dantes will be captain of the Pharaon--eh. for Fernand here is so obstinate he will not tell us. and looked at them with her clear and bright eyes. Dantes! hello. husband of the beautiful Catalane!" Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with unsteady hand. the one brutalized by liquor." "Hold your tongue. eh!" stammered Caderousse. Heaven forgive me. and laugh at us all. "and I did not recognize them! Hallo." said he. and seemed to be collecting himself to dash headlong upon his rival. they do not know that we can see them. but he read nothing but envy in a countenance already rendered brutal and stupid by drunkenness. to try and detect whether the blow was premeditated. when Mercedes. but I should say it was two lovers walking side by side. and let us know when the wedding is to be. "let us drink to Captain Edmond Dantes. and with his fist on the . half-rising." he added. "Eh. who. "Hallo!" continued Caderousse. the other overwhelmed with love. Unquestionably. in a low voice. lifted up her lovely head. and here is a fool who sees the woman he loves stolen from under his nose and takes on like a big baby. Yet this Catalan has eyes that glisten like those of the vengeful Spaniards. pretending to restrain Caderousse. Fernand?" he said. one after the other. smiling and graceful. "Well. with the tenacity of drunkards. pricked by Danglars. "It is Edmond and Mercedes!" "Ah. he is well-behaved!" Fernand. see there. and let the lovers make love without interruption. leaned out of the arbor. too. "Try to stand upright. Sicilians.

or next day at latest. captain!" "Danglars. "To-day the preliminaries." said Danglars. "How do you do." said Dantes. or are you too proud to speak to them?" "No." said Edmond. bowing to the young couple." replied Danglars. "I merely said you seemed in a hurry. 'Do not give me a title which does not belong to me'. Danglars--it is sacred." "So. to-day all preliminaries will be arranged at my father's. and he could not utter a word. the wedding is to take place immediately. but his voice died on his lips. too. "hallo. more than pride.table. Caderousse. Besides." "And Fernand. "As soon as possible. to call a young girl by the name of her betrothed before he becomes her husband. and you. then." "We must excuse our worthy neighbor. M. and said--"That is not my name. Danglars. my dear fellow!" replied Dantes. that is to say. smiling. and happiness blinds." said Caderousse with a chuckle. if you please. to-morrow or next day the ceremony! You are in a hurry. "Fernand. is invited!" "My wife's brother is my brother." said Edmond. we have great difficulty in believing in good fortune. but I am happy. "he is so easily mistaken. M." "Ah. that may bring me bad luck. I must go to Paris. that's an explanation!" said Caderousse. Edmond! do you not see your friends. should be very sorry if he were absent at such a time. Madame Dantes?" Mercedes courtesied gravely. "I am not proud. the wedding festival here at La Reserve. you are invited. really?--to Paris! and will it be the first time you have ever been there. Mercedes and I. I shall only take the time to go and return. M." "Have you business there?" "Not of my own. very well. and to-morrow. "I will say to you as Mercedes said just now to Caderousse." "Your pardon. I think. and we have lots of time. and in my country it bodes ill fortune." Fernand opened his mouth to reply. Danglars. "and we. for when we have suffered a long time. Caderousse. you know to what I allude. the Pharaon cannot be under weigh again in less than three months. So call me Mercedes. the last commission of poor Captain Leclere. they say. Danglars. But it is not selfishness alone that makes me thus in haste. Dantes." . Dantes?" "Yes." "We are always in a hurry to be happy. I hope. M. My friends will be there." "Ah.

" said Danglars. as calm and joyous as if they were the very elect of heaven. who had fallen. then turning round. "Do you. yes. Dantes. "Well. seek." "And you sit there. he added. "Thank you." said Fernand." then turning towards Edmond. "I would die myself!" . you are not yet registered number one on board the good ship Pharaon. Chapter 4. pale and trembling. "To Paris. my friend. what matter. while Caderousse stammered out the words of a drinking-song. who was walking away. I understand." "Pooh! Women say those things." "You do not know Mercedes. my dear sir." replied Fernand. no doubt to deliver the letter which the grand marshal gave him." he cried. "A pleasant journey. "whether she kill herself or not. and you shall find. Ah."Yes. but never do them. into his chair. but the woman told me that if any misfortune happened to her betrothed." "What would you have me do?" said Fernand. with the accents of unshaken resolution. instead of seeking to remedy your condition. I did not think that was the way of your people. she would kill herself. provided Dantes is not captain?" "Before Mercedes should die. and the two lovers continued on their way. love Mercedes?" "I adore her!" "For long?" "As long as I have known her--always." "What?" "I would stab the man. Conspiracy." "Idiot!" muttered Danglars. and then in a low tone." "I have found already. what she threatens she will do. Danglars followed Edmond and Mercedes with his eyes until the two lovers disappeared behind one of the angles of Fort Saint Nicolas. he perceived Fernand." said Edmond with a friendly nod. tearing your hair." "It drives me to despair." said Danglars to Fernand. then. but for you--in the words of the gospel. this letter gives me an idea--a capital idea! Ah. "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.

and the marriage may easily be thwarted. they are no bigger than cologne flasks. your health. Absence severs as well as death. This drunken Caderousse has made me lose the thread of my sentence. . and you will be completely so. be a pity he should. "Let him run on." "You said." "Come. Dantes is a good fellow. but"-"Yes. "You were saying. C'est bien prouve par le deluge. Prove it." Fernand rose impatiently. I like Dantes. Dantes. one seeks revenge"-"What matters that?" muttered Fernand. sir." replied Danglars." "Yes. indeed. "and when one gets out and one's name is Edmond Dantes." said Caderousse. and yet Dantes need not die. Say there is no need why Dantes should die. clever. more wine!" and Caderousse rattled his glass upon the table. deep fellow. restraining the young man." said Danglars.' [*] * "The wicked are great drinkers of water. listened eagerly to the conversation. "but how?" "My dear fellow. but"-"Yes. "and here is Danglars. "well that's a good one! I could drink four more such bottles. Drink then. finish the bottle. with what sense was left him.-'Tous les mechants sont beuveurs d'eau. "What was I saying? I forget. it would."That's what I call love!" said Caderousse with a voice more tipsy than ever. who will prove to you that you are wrong. "That's love. Danglars. sir"--said Fernand. who is a wide-awake. "drunk as he is. for that requires all one's wit and cool judgment. if you like. Pere Pamphile." "Death alone can separate them. "you appear to me a good sort of fellow." said Caderousse. but I added. "You talk like a noodle. but one gets out of prison. you would like to help me." said Danglars." said Caderousse. and hang me. I should like to help you. methinks. I have answered for you. he is not much out in what he says. and do not meddle with what we are discussing. 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. my friend. awaiting with great anxiety the end of this interrupted remark. As the flood proved once for all. who." and Caderousse began to sing the two last lines of a song very popular at the time." "Drunk. so much the worse for those who fear wine. to help you it would be sufficient that Dantes did not marry her you love. for it is because they have bad thoughts which they are afraid the liquor will extract from their hearts." "I--drunk!" said Caderousse." remarked Fernand. or I don't know what love is. "you are three parts drunk.

Dantes' good health!" said Caderousse. "Well. restraining him. I will execute it. yes. that the Spaniards ruminate." "Hold your tongue!" said Danglars. and looking at Fernand with his dull and fishy eyes." "Certainly not." said Fernand impatiently. "Have you not hit upon any?" asked Danglars. "We were merely joking. while the French invent. and this morning offered to share his money with me. you have the means of having Dantes arrested." "I know not why you meddle. "No. muddlehead?" replied Danglars. get out of the affair as best you may. filling Caderousse's glass. "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. emptying his glass. "but this I know. I like Dantes. and your unhappiness interested me. "and do not interfere with us." he added. adieu. now raised it. I won't have Dantes killed--I won't!" "And who has said a word about killing him. he said. But why should I meddle in the matter? it is no affair of mine. and paper. for Mercedes has declared she will kill herself if Dantes is killed. for he who himself hates is never mistaken in the sentiments of others. on my word! I saw you were unhappy. and turning towards Fernand. Have you that means?" "It is to be found for the searching. "pen. provided it is not to kill the man. no." persisted Caderousse. then. if. "Waiter. Do you find the means." . Dantes. ink." said Fernand." Caderousse. but since you believe I act for my own account. as you said just now. "No!--you undertook to do so. your health!" and he swallowed another glass of wine." "Do you invent. I hate him! I confess it openly. "I say I want to know why they should put Dantes in prison. said. Danglars saw in the muddled look of the tailor the progress of his intoxication. I should like to know. "should they put Dantes in prison? he has not robbed or killed or murdered. "here's to his health! his health--hurrah!" "But the means--the means?" said Fernand.--"Kill Dantes! who talks of killing Dantes? I won't have him killed--I won't! He's my friend. "I won't hold my tongue!" replied Caderousse. who had let his head drop on the table. my dear friend." "I!--motives of hatred against Dantes? None." replied Danglars." "Yes." and Danglars rose as if he meant to depart. seizing his arm. as I shared mine with him. "the French have the superiority over the Spaniards." "True. drink to his health."And why." said Fernand." said Danglars. you understand there is no need to kill him. you have some motive of personal hatred against Dantes. that's all.

"There's what you want on that table." "Yes. The Catalan watched him until Caderousse." "The fellow is not so drunk as he appears to be. or rather dropped." said Danglars. a bottle of ink. rested. pen. I should say. "Give him some more wine. and Mercedes! Mercedes." called Fernand loudly. and paper are my tools. "that if after a voyage such as Dantes has just made. "if we resolve on such a step. and the day when he comes out. and in a writing reversed from his usual style. I am a supercargo. and totally unlike it. and a sheet of paper. as I now do. and paper. ink. the following lines. who. and one day or other he will leave it. Fernand. I will supply you with the means of supporting your accusation. for I know the fact well." muttered Fernand. then. but they will make you then sign your declaration. "Yes. for instance. than of a sword or pistol. is informed by a friend of the . "Bring them here. "Yes. I should wish nothing better than that he would come and seek a quarrel with me. no. some one were to denounce him to the king's procureur as a Bonapartist agent"-"I will denounce him!" exclaimed the young man hastily. almost overcome by this fresh assault on his senses. as he saw the final glimmer of Caderousse's reason vanishing before the last glass of wine. his glass upon the table. "Well. uniting practice with theory. ink." continued Danglars. dip it into this ink. in which he touched at the Island of Elba. it would be much better to take. and confront you with him you have denounced." resumed Danglars. which he handed to Fernand. who will detest you if you have only the misfortune to scratch the skin of her dearly beloved Edmond!" "True!" said Fernand. then. and without my tools I am fit for nothing. the king's attorney. "No." said Caderousse." "Pen." Fernand filled Caderousse's glass. and which Fernand read in an undertone:-"The honorable." said the waiter. woe betide him who was the cause of his incarceration!" "Oh. and write with the left hand (that the writing may not be recognized) the denunciation we propose. wrote with his left hand. "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. letting his hand drop on the paper." And Danglars." The waiter did as he was desired. like the confirmed toper he was. "When one thinks. and paper. But Dantes cannot remain forever in prison. lifted his hand from the paper and seized the glass. "Well!" resumed the Catalan. ink."Pen. this pen.

too!" "Done!" said Danglars. who still remained seated. "Yes. "and as what I say and do is merely in jest. he squeezed it up in his hands and threw it into a corner of the arbor. you will be compelled to sleep here. mate of the ship Pharaon. who. "Yes. and by the usurper with a letter for the Bonapartist committee in Paris. has been intrusted by Murat with a letter for the usurper. there is nothing to do now but fold the letter as I am doing. "Dantes is my friend. that one Edmond Dantes. and I." "Very well." "I will not. I wish to drink to the health of Edmond and the lovely Mercedes. Fernand. and I won't have him ill-used. "but I don't want your arm at all. drunkard. 'To the king's attorney. rising and looking at the young man. rising with all the offended dignity of a drunken man. there's liberty for all the world. Give me your arm. just as you like. and let the young gentleman return to the Catalans if he chooses. Danglars. and let us go." said Danglars." and he stretched out his hand to reach the letter. and instinctively comprehended all the misery which such a denunciation must entail. or in his cabin on board the Pharaon." "I?" said Caderousse." And Danglars wrote the address as he spoke. "I'll take your bet." "And who thinks of using him ill? Certainly neither I nor Fernand. had followed the reading of the letter." . taking it from beyond his reach. and the matter will thus work its own way." said Caderousse. Proof of this crime will be found on arresting him. I'll wager I can go up into the belfry of the Accoules.throne and religion. won't you return to Marseilles with us?" "No. "let's have some more wine. and without staggering." "You're wrong. should be sorry if anything happened to Dantes--the worthy Dantes--look here!" And taking the letter. and that's all settled." said Fernand. for the letter will be found upon him. Come along. by a last effort of intellect." resumed Danglars. Come. and write upon it. but whose eye was fixed on the denunciatory sheet of paper flung into the corner." replied Caderousse. let us go. Come with us to Marseilles--come along. after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo." said Danglars. "All right!" said Caderousse. and that's all settled!" exclaimed Caderousse. arrived this morning from Smyrna. amongst the first and foremost. my prince." "What do you mean? you will not? Well." "You have had too much already. "Yes. "now your revenge looks like common-sense. "I can't keep on my legs? Why. only it will be an infamous shame." "Very good. "and if you continue.' and that's all settled." said Danglars. because unable to stand on your legs. for in no way can it revert to yourself. but to-morrow--to-day it is time to return. "In this case. "I shall return to the Catalans. or at his father's.

Danglars took advantage of Caderousse's temper at the moment. the whole of whom had arrayed themselves in their choicest costumes. what a lie he told! He said he was going to the Catalans. beneath these windows a wooden balcony extended the entire length of the house." said Danglars to himself. effectually confirmed the report. stating that he had recently conversed with M." said Caderousse. however. pick up the crumpled paper. "he's gone right enough." Chapter 5. consisting of the favored part of the crew of the Pharaon. with whose arbor the reader is already familiar." said Caderousse. the sailors put no restraint on their tumultuous joy at finding that the opinion and choice of their superiors so exactly coincided with their own. over each of which was written in golden letters for some inexplicable reason the name of one of the principal cities of France. Morrel. who now made his appearance. you don't see straight." "Well. The Marriage-Feast. touching the foamy waves into a network of ruby-tinted light. The feast had been made ready on the second floor at La Reserve. The apartment destined for the purpose was spacious and lighted by a number of windows. come. Various rumors were afloat to the effect that the owners of the Pharaon had promised to attend the nuptial feast. Hallo. Danglars and Caderousse were despatched . in order to do greater honor to the occasion. Fernand!" "Oh." said Danglars. When they had advanced about twenty yards. who had himself assured him of his intention to dine at La Reserve. Danglars looked back and saw Fernand stoop. accompanied by Caderousse. "now the thing is at work and it will effect its purpose unassisted. but all seemed unanimous in doubting that an act of such rare and exceeding condescension could possibly be intended. and he is going to the city. an hour previous to that time the balcony was filled with impatient and expectant guests. "I should have said not--how treacherous wine is!" "Come. The morning's sun rose clear and resplendent. And although the entertainment was fixed for twelve o'clock. staggering as he went. "Well. Morrel appeared and was saluted with an enthusiastic burst of applause from the crew of the Pharaon. "why. In fact. to take him off towards Marseilles by the Porte Saint-Victor. 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 as Dantes was universally beloved on board his vessel. a moment later M. and other personal friends of the bride-groom. Morrel. and putting it into his pocket then rush out of the arbor towards Pillon. With the entrance of M. Danglars.

rejoice with me. his aged countenance lit up with happiness. that Dantes should be the successor to the late Captain Leclere. attendance on brought up by Neither Mercedes nor Edmond observed the strange expression of his countenance. Beside him glided Caderousse. but ere towards them. or.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. they were so happy that they were conscious only of the sunshine and the presence of each other. clad in the dress peculiar to the merchant service--a costume somewhat between a military and a civil garb. for I am very happy. Dantes himself was simply. he cast on him a look of deep meaning. and a nervous contraction distort his features. and to beseech him to make haste. She moved with the light. free step of an Arlesienne or an Andalusian. who seemed. speed. whose desire to partake of the good things provided for the wedding-party had induced him to become reconciled to the Dantes. radiant with joy and happiness. as he slowly paced behind the happy pair. coral lips. supporting himself on a curiously carved stick. Danglars and Caderousse set off upon their errand at full they had gone many steps they perceived a group advancing composed of the betrothed pair. at the approach of his patron. while from his three-cornered hat depended a long streaming knot of white and blue ribbons. The old man was attired in a suit of glistening watered silk. he would glance in the direction of Marseilles. have cast down her thickly fringed lashes. on the contrary. but. whose lips wore their usual sinister smile. by whose side walked Dantes' father. however. and with his fine countenance. the delighted girl looked around her with a smile that seemed to say: "If you are my friends. Having acquitted themselves of their errand. the whole Fernand. Mercedes boasted the same bright flashing eyes of jet. trimmed with steel buttons. although there still lingered in his mind a faint and unperfect recollection of the events of the preceding night. and exchanged a hearty shake of the hand with Edmond. Morrel descended and came forth to meet it. like one who either anticipated or foresaw some great and important event. father and son. while. beautifully cut and polished. to whom he had repeated the promise already given. a more perfect specimen of manly beauty could scarcely be imagined. was pale and abstracted.--the latter of whom attracted universal notice. parading the newly opened gardens of the Tuileries and Luxembourg. and ripe. Danglars and Caderousse took their places beside Fernand and old Dantes. respectfully placed the arm of . a party of young girls in the bride. so as to have concealed the liquid lustre of her animated eyes. One more practiced in the arts of great cities would have hid her blushes beneath a veil. at least. His thin but wiry legs were arrayed in a pair of richly embroidered clocked stockings. round. but becomingly. in their own unmixed content. looking for all the world like one of the aged dandies of 1796. a deep flush would overspread his countenance." As soon as the bridal party came in sight of La Reserve. M. with an agitated and restless gaze. As Danglars approached the disappointed lover. Lovely as the Greek girls of Cyprus or Chios. evidently of English manufacture. occasionally. followed by the soldiers and sailors there assembled. to have entirely forgotten that such a being as himself existed. while Fernand. Edmond. just as the brain retains on waking in the morning the dim and misty outline of a dream. Thus he came along.

nay!" cried Caderousse. in fact. and lobsters in their dazzling red cuirasses.--all the delicacies. happiness is like the enchanted palaces we read of in our childhood. Danglars at his left. Morrel was seated at his right hand. who desire nothing better than to laugh and dance the hours away?" "Ah. "sit. whose excitable nature received and betrayed each fresh impression." "A pretty silence truly!" said the old father of the bride-groom. the echinus with its prickly outside and dainty morsel within. it seems to oppress us same as sorrow. and styled by the grateful fishermen "fruits of the sea. what you meant by your observation. at a sign from Edmond. "Now. "Man does not appear to me to be intended to enjoy felicity so unmixed. "a man cannot always feel happy because he is about to be married. Just assume the tone and manner of a husband. "Why. piquant. "Do you fear any approaching evil? I should say that you were the happiest man alive at this instant. on my right hand. forthwith conducting her up the flight of wooden steps leading to the chamber in which the feast was prepared." pointing with a soft and gentle smile to Fernand. my worthy friend. who. requiring to be overcome ere victory is ours.his affianced bride within that of M. while. on my left I will place him who has ever been as a brother to me. as he carried to his lips a glass of wine of the hue and brightness of the topaz. at the opposite side of the table. and monsters of all shapes and kinds. beneath whose heavy tread the slight structure creaked and groaned for the space of several minutes. smiling. Mercedes is not yet your wife. During this time. Morrel." Danglars looked towards Fernand. 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. Then they began to pass around the dusky." sighed Caderousse." said Mercedes." returned Dantes. stopping when she had reached the centre of the table. almost the is." replied Dantes. and see how she will remind you that your hour is not yet . where fierce. Dantes. but her words and look seemed to inflict the direst torture on him. the clovis. "Father. M. fiery dragons defend the entrance and approach. Arlesian sausages. "that I am too happy for noisy mirth." "Nay. for his lips became ghastly pale. you joy takes a strange effect at times. 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. that are cast up by the wash of waters on the sandy beach. I pray you. was gayly followed by the guests. and which had just been placed before Mercedes herself. merry party. prawns of large size and brilliant color." "And that is the very thing that alarms me." "The truth if that is are right. had been occupied in similarly placing his most honored guests. would anybody think that this room contained a happy. "you have not attained that honor yet. what ails you?" asked he of Edmond. the rest of the company ranged themselves as they found it most agreeable. esteemed by the epicures of the South as more than rivalling the exquisite flavor of the oyster.

never mind that. no. as a quarter-past one has already struck. with the exception of the elder Dantes. was lost amid the noisy felicitations of the company. while Fernand. Arrived here only yesterday morning. and married to-day at three o'clock! Commend me to a sailor for going the quick way to work!" "But. "you make short work of this kind of affair. four days to go. Mercedes has no fortune. next to my father. "don't imagine I am going to put you off in that shabby manner. Now. . in another hour and thirty minutes Mercedes will have become Madame Dantes. and at half-past two o'clock the mayor of Marseilles will be waiting for us at the city hall. with one day to discharge the commission intrusted to me. to whom. neighbor Caderousse. who. it is not worth while to contradict me for such a trifle as that. while Fernand grasped the handle of his knife with a convulsive clutch. We have purchased permission to waive the usual delay. seemed to start at every fresh sound. to obtain a moment's tranquillity in which to drink to the health and prosperity of the bride and bride-groom. "No. To-morrow morning I start for Paris." This joke elicited a fresh burst of applause. whose laugh displayed the still perfect beauty of his large white teeth. I do not consider I have asserted too much in saying. our papers were quickly written out. Morrel. that. however. that the elder Dantes. "How is that. thus it is. you see." asked Danglars. Mercedes looked pleased and gratified. had commented upon the silence that prevailed. now found it difficult. I owe every blessing I enjoy. and he was compelled to support himself by the table to prevent his falling from his chair. and certainly do not come very expensive. drawing out his watch. is all the time I shall be absent. which. "Thanks to the influence of M. turning pale. So." answered Dantes." replied Dantes. but in spite of all his efforts." Fernand closed his eyes." added he." cried the old man. but. "Well. "So that what we presumed to be merely the betrothal feast turns out to be the actual wedding dinner!" said Danglars. and on the second I give my real marriage feast." answered Dantes. "it didn't take long to fix that. "In an hour?" inquired Danglars. amid the general din of voices. I have none to settle on her. and the same to return. I shall be back here by the first of March." This prospect of fresh festivity redoubled the hilarity of the guests to such a degree. my friend?" "Why. every difficulty his been removed. he could not refrain from uttering a deep groan. restless and uneasy. 'Tis true that Mercedes is not actually my wife. at the commencement of the repast. "how did you manage about the other formalities--the contract--the settlement?" "The contract." A general exclamation of surprise ran round the table. laughingly. "Upon my word. in a timid tone. a burning sensation passed across his brow. and from time to time wiped away the large drops of perspiration that gathered on his brow.come!" The bride blushed. "in an hour and a half she will be.

"at first I certainly did feel somewhat uneasy as to what Fernand might be tempted to do. Such as at the commencement of the repast had not been able to seat themselves according to their inclination rose unceremoniously. he was among the first to quit the table." "Shall we not set forth?" asked the sweet. As for Fernand himself. unable to rest. with an almost convulsive spasm. with the clanking of swords and military accoutrements. from whose mind the friendly treatment of Dantes. and you know we are expected in a quarter of an hour. "two o'clock has just struck. Caderousse approached him just as Danglars. so as to deaden even the noisy mirth of the bridal . there was no harm meant. with vociferous cheers. and sought out more agreeable companions. when the beauty of the bride is concerned. whom Fernand seemed most anxious to avoid. Fernand's paleness appeared to have communicated itself to Danglars. perceiving the affectionate eagerness of his father. who had been incessantly observing every change in Fernand's look and manner. saw him stagger and fall back. in utter silence. eagerly quitting the table. without waiting for a reply and each one seemed to be contented with expressing his or her own thoughts. silvery voice of Mercedes. I cannot help thinking it would have been a great pity to have served him that trick you were planning yesterday. he seemed to be enduring the tortures of the damned. then came a hum and buzz as of many voices." Caderousse looked full at Fernand--he was ghastly pale. to pace the farther end of the salon. "Certainly." answered Danglars. At this moment Danglars. as though seeking to avoid the hilarious mirth that rose in such deafening sounds. responded by a look of grateful pleasure.--"upon my word." "To be sure!--to be sure!" cried Dantes. and when I see him sitting there beside his pretty wife that is so soon to be." continued Danglars. had effaced every feeling of envy or jealousy at Dantes' good fortune.Dantes. "Upon my word. Everybody talked at once. Upon my soul. against a seat placed near one of the open windows. "the sacrifice was no trifling one. even so far as to become one of his rival's attendants. that future captain of mine is a lucky dog! Gad. while Mercedes glanced at the clock and made an expressive gesture to Edmond. he continued. followed by the measured tread of soldiery." "Oh. and. had joined him in a corner of the room. but when I saw how completely he had mastered his feelings. united with the effect of the excellent wine he had partaken of." said Caderousse. I knew there was no further cause for apprehension. "let us go directly!" His words were re-echoed by the whole party. I only wish he would let me take his place. 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. At the same instant his ear caught a sort of indistinct sound on the stairs. Dantes is a downright good fellow.

but he had disappeared. and although I most reluctantly perform the task assigned me. and cannot in the least make out what it is about. nevertheless. He prayed and supplicated in terms so moving. although firm in his duty. The sounds drew nearer. "My worthy friend. The company looked at each other in consternation. let me beg of you to calm your apprehensions. Three blows were struck upon the panel of the door. spite of the agitation he could not but feel. Who among the persons here assembled answers to the name of Edmond Dantes?" Every eye was turned towards the young man who. Morrel. like yourself. wearing his official scarf. Old Dantes. I am the bearer of an order of arrest." replied the magistrate." Caderousse then looked around for Fernand. slightly changing color. what is your pleasure with me?" "Edmond Dantes. frowningly.party. "May I venture to inquire the reason of this unexpected visit?" said M. of Danglars. and a magistrate." replied the magistrate. utterly bewildered at all that is going on. that even the officer was touched." said a loud voice outside the room. "I arrest you in the name of the law!" "Me!" repeated Edmond. addressing the magistrate. Uneasiness now yielded to the most extreme dread on the part of those present." "If it be so. "in the name of the law!" As no attempt was made to prevent it. whether touching the health of his crew. "I am. whom he evidently knew. as to address a petition to some cold marble effigy. The scene of the previous night now came back to his mind with startling clearness. He saw before him an officer delegated to enforce the law. sprang forward. presented himself. "I am he. followed by four soldiers and a corporal. be fulfilled. it must. but you will be duly acquainted with the reasons that have rendered such a step necessary at the preliminary examination. . however. advanced with dignity. 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. "I demand admittance. he kindly said. "there is doubtless some mistake easily explained. There are situations which the heart of a father or a mother cannot be made to understand. and it is more than probable he will be set at liberty directly he has given the information required. and almost instantaneously the most deathlike stillness prevailed. or the value of his freight. and. "rely upon every reparation being made. the door was opened. I pray?" "I cannot inform you. "and wherefore. Your son has probably neglected some prescribed form or attention in registering his cargo. "How can I tell you?" replied he. and perfectly well knew that it would be as unavailing to seek pity from a magistrate decked with his official scarf. in a firm voice. and said. Morrel felt that further resistance or remonstrance was useless. who had assumed an air of utter surprise." M." "What is the meaning of all this?" inquired Caderousse. among whom a vague feeling of curiosity and apprehension quelled every disposition to talk. meanwhile.

which sounded like the sob of a broken heart. "nothing more than a mistake." "Oh. "this. "Make yourselves quite easy. and the vehicle drove off towards Marseilles. whence I will bring you word how all is going on." "No. "you merely threw it by--I saw it lying in a corner. he got in. adieu. let you and I go and see what is to be done for our poor friends. and leaning from the coach he called out." Dantes descended the staircase. after having exchanged a cheerful shake of the hand with all his sympathizing friends. "Adieu. to look after his own affairs. but at length the two poor victims of the same blow raised their eyes. and followed by the soldiers. stretching out her arms to him from the balcony. you know very well that I tore the paper to pieces. besides. to Danglars. you did not!" answered Caderousse. The old father and Mercedes remained for some time apart. had surrendered himself to the officer sent to arrest him. "How do I know?" replied 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. and well deserves to bring double evil on those who have projected it. I suppose." "Hold your tongue. there is some little mistake to clear up. "I tell you again I have nothing whatever to do with it. most likely. "gone. I feel quite certain. dearest Edmond!" cried Mercedes. merely saying. that if it be so. you were drunk!" "Where is Fernand?" inquired Caderousse. and very likely I may not have to go so far as the prison to effect that. 'tis an ill turn." "That's right!" exclaimed a multitude of voices. Dantes. as every prudent man ought to be. that's all. Never mind where he is. Morrel. preceded by the magistrate." said he. Mercedes--we shall soon meet again!" Then the vehicle disappeared round one of the turnings of Fort Saint Nicholas. in a hoarse and choking voice. you fool!--what should you know about it?--why." "Nonsense. "Wait for me here. followed by two soldiers and the magistrate. my good fellows. poured out for himself a glass . each absorbed in grief."So. all of you!" cried M." During this conversation. and with a simultaneous burst of feeling rushed into each other's arms. Meanwhile Fernand made his appearance. and hurry to Marseilles. "I will take the first conveyance I find. so." returned Danglars. A carriage awaited him at the door. "Good-by. depend upon it. is a part of the trick you were concerting yesterday? All I can say is. who had now approached the group. The prisoner heard the cry. to be sure!" responded Danglars. then. "go.

"He is the cause of all this misery--I am quite sure of it. depend upon it the custom-house people went rummaging about the ship in our absence. "I think it just possible Dantes may have been detected with some trifling article on board ship considered here as contraband. and another of tobacco for me!" "There. "Now the mischief is out. I only hope the mischief will fall upon the head of whoever wrought it. since you are the ship's supercargo?" "Why. come. "one cannot be held responsible for every chance arrow shot into the air." said the afflicted old father. "my poor boy told me yesterday he had got a small case of coffee. you see. my poor child." "Now I recollect. Her grief. and this was." "But how could he have done so without your knowledge. and that she took in her freight at Alexandria from Pastret's warehouse. now burst out in a violent fit of hysterical sobbing." Mercedes." exclaimed Danglars. as for that. to Danglars." said Caderousse. "Surely." answered the other. I know she was loaded with cotton." Meantime the subject of the arrest was being canvassed in every different form. "Hope!" faintly murmured Fernand. "of this event?" "Why. when the arrow lights point downward on somebody's head. which she had hitherto tried to restrain. Danglars. "be comforted." answered Danglars. turning towards him. "What think you." said one of the party. Danglars." replied he. and discovered poor Dantes' hidden treasures. "I don't think so. by mere chance. however. "Come. who had never taken his eyes off Fernand. went to sit down at the first vacant place." whispered Caderousse." "You don't mention those who aided and abetted the deed. there is still hope!" "Hope!" repeated Danglars." "You can. and I beg I may not be asked for any further particulars." said the old man. Instinctively Fernand drew back his chair. I could only know what I was told respecting the merchandise with which the vessel was laden. when released from the warm and affectionate embrace of old Dantes.of water with a trembling hand. paid no heed to this explanation of her lover's arrest. . and a convulsive spasm passed over his countenance. indeed. "he's too stupid to imagine such a scheme. but the word seemed to die away on his pale agitated lips. that is all I was obliged to know. placed next to the seat on which poor Mercedes had fallen half fainting. then hastily swallowing it. and at Smyrna from Pascal's.

you simpleton!" cried Danglars. and see what comes of it. should any letters or other documents of a compromising character be found upon him." "Oh. my friends."Good news! good news!" shouted forth one of the party stationed in the balcony on the lookout. led the girl to her home. Now." said he. I cannot stay here any longer. and passed a whole day in the island. Morrel. by all means. The rumor of Edmond's arrest as a Bonapartist agent was not slow in ." replied M. "but still he is charged"-"With what?" inquired the elder Dantes." "Be silent. with a mournful shake of his head. Who can tell whether Dantes be innocent or guilty? The vessel did touch at Elba. sir. doubtfully. but I cannot suffer a poor old man or an innocent girl to die of grief through your fault. indeed--indeed. Danglars!" whispered Caderousse. and then caution supplanted generosity." "With all my heart!" replied Danglars. Caderousse readily perceived the solidity of this mode of reasoning. the old man sank into a chair. of course he will be set at liberty. He was very pale. we shall hear that our friend is released!" Mercedes and the old man rushed to meet the shipowner and greeted him at the door. I am determined to tell them all about it. pleased to find the other so tractable. on Danglars. he is innocent!" sobbed forth Mercedes. "you have deceived me--the trick you spoke of last night has been played. and leave things for the present to take their course. he gazed. "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. "Alas. "To be sure!" answered Danglars. Morrel back. where he quitted it. Morrel." "Let us go. Fernand. "Let us wait. wistfully. "What news?" exclaimed a general burst of voices. will it not be taken for granted that all who uphold him are his accomplices?" With the rapid instinct of selfishness. "or I will not answer even for your own safety. who had now again become the friend and protector of Mercedes. if guilty. now. "the thing has assumed a more serious aspect than I expected. A despairing cry escaped the pale lips of Mercedes. then. it is no use involving ourselves in a conspiracy. "Let us take ourselves out of the way. while the friends of Dantes conducted the now half-fainting man back to his abode. "Here comes M. grasping him by the arm. why. "That I believe!" answered M. "Ah. If he be innocent." After their departure. "Suppose we wait a while. No doubt. casting a bewildered look on his companion.

"Could you ever have credited such a thing. there are many things he ought most carefully to conceal from all else. my dear Danglars?" asked M. M." "No doubt. Danglars--'tis well!" replied M." answered Danglars. Policar Morrel. is bound to acquaint the shipowner with everything that occurs. as. I had previously inquired of Dantes what was his opinion of you. and it will be so far advantageous to you to accept my services. "Could you have believed such a thing possible?" "Why. on his return to the port for the purpose of gleaning fresh tidings of Dantes." "Is it possible you were so kind?" "Yes. Morrel." "And did you mention these suspicions to any person beside myself?" "Certainly not!" returned Danglars. "You understand that. and who does not altogether conceal what he thinks on the subject. and if he should have any reluctance to continue you in your post." replied Danglars. and I had already thought of your interests in the event of poor Edmond having become captain of the Pharaon. Morrel. Morrel. I should have feared to injure both Edmond and yourself. he overtook his supercargo and Caderousse." "Oh. "You know that I am as capable of managing a ship as the most experienced captain in the service. I am too well aware that though a subordinate. de Villefort. "that I considered the circumstance of his having anchored at the Island of Elba as a very suspicious circumstance. Then added in a low whisper. from M. "No one can deny his being a noble-hearted young fellow." "The hypocrite!" murmured Danglars." "But meanwhile. "You are a worthy fellow. "since we cannot leave this port for the next three months. "here is the Pharaon without a captain. like myself." replied Danglars. had I divulged my own apprehensions to a soul." "'Tis well. the assistant procureur. you know I told you. you are strongly suspected of regretting the abdication of Napoleon.circulating throughout the city. who served under the other government. that upon Edmond's release from prison no further change will be requisite on board the Pharaon than for Dantes and myself each to ." continued M." "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. but that whoever possessed the good opinion and confidence of the ship's owner would have his preference also. indeed. Morrel. M. for somehow I have perceived a sort of coolness between you. "Poor Dantes!" said Caderousse. on account of your uncle. let us hope that ere the expiration of that period Dantes will be set at liberty. but in the meantime?" "I am entirely at your service.

is Fernand. I will join you there ere long. he did not take the trouble of recopying it. "I would give a great deal if nothing of the kind had happened. and either copied it or caused it to be copied. "that I can answer for. it should fall on the guilty person. waving his hand in token of adieu to ." "Be easy on that score. M. not breathing a word to any living soul." "Well. Fernand picked it up.resume our respective posts. and you will see that the storm will pass away without in the least affecting us. How can we be implicated in any way? All we have got to do is. Morrel. but yet it seems to me a shocking thing that a mere joke should lead to such consequences." "Oh. but Fernand. and of his being king's attorney. It seems." replied Danglars. even. well." "Well. and I fancy not a bad sort of one. you know. that it will turn out an unlucky job for both of us. Danglars." So saying. however. and look carefully to the unloading of her freight." "But who perpetrated that joke. And now I think of it. "You see. I fancied I had destroyed it." returned M. de Villefort. and that's rather against him. the worthy shipowner quitted the two allies." "Still. you knew very well that I threw the paper into a corner of the room--indeed. let me ask? neither you nor myself. whom I shall endeavor to interest in Edmond's favor. I fully authorize you at once to assume the command of the Pharaon. no. that I had had no hand in it. if you did. perhaps. addressing Caderousse. "but I hear that he is ambitious. and that. Do you still feel any desire to stand up in his defence?" "Not the slightest. As I before said. I am aware he is a furious royalist. the handwriting was disguised. and remain perfectly quiet. at least." argued Caderousse." "Perhaps not. "the turn things have taken." "Amen!" responded Caderousse. by Heavens." "Thanks. I thought the whole thing was a joke. for me. You will see. But now hasten on board. in spite of that. or. Danglars--that will smooth over all difficulties." replied Caderousse. depend upon it. but do you think we shall be permitted to see our poor Edmond?" "I will let you know that directly I have seen M. then. he may have sent the letter itself! Fortunately. but." "Nonsense! If any harm come of it. you did not. and proceeded in the direction of the Palais de Justice." "Then you were aware of Dantes being engaged in a conspiracy?" "Not I. that I have unconsciously stumbled upon the truth." said Danglars. to keep our own counsel. "we shall see. he is a man like ourselves. 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. nothing more. Morrel. Private misfortunes must never be allowed to interfere with business.

forbidding . This toast. and those belonging to the humblest grade of life.--was looked upon here as a ruined man. for five centuries religious strife had long given increased bitterness to the violence of party feeling. and muttering as he went. Morrel had agreed to meet him. brought up to hate and execrate the man whom five years of exile would convert into a martyr. but over the defeat of the Napoleonic idea. and the ladies. separated forever from any fresh connection with France or claim to her throne. mentally. "Ah. officers who had deserted from the imperial army and joined forces with Conde. strewed the table with their floral treasures." added he with a smile. now rose and proposed the health of King Louis XVIII. the present assembly was composed of the very flower of Marseilles society. I am. where unhappily." said Danglars. and the heated and energetic conversation that prevailed betrayed the violent and vindictive passions that then agitated each dweller of the South. Chapter 6. almost at the same hour with the nuptial repast given by Dantes. where M. The emperor. then. moving his head to and fro. temporarily. however. now king of the petty Island of Elba. It was not over the downfall of the man. and fifteen of restoration elevate to the rank of a god." So saying. "she will take her own. My only fear is the chance of Dantes being released. there. and younger members of families. with the certainty of being permanently so.--magistrates who had resigned their office during the usurper's reign. and in this they foresaw for themselves the bright and cheering prospect of a revivified political existence. It was the Marquis de Saint-Meran. recalling at once the patient exile of Hartwell and the peace-loving King of France. In one of the aristocratic mansions built by Puget in the Rue du Grand Cours opposite the Medusa fountain. The guests were still at table. after having held sovereign sway over one-half of the world. uttered in ten different languages. and. the military part of the company talked unreservedly of Moscow and Leipsic. that they rejoiced. and bending his steps towards the Allees de Meillan. counting as his subjects a small population of five or six thousand souls. desiring to be rowed on board the Pharaon." said the Marquise de Saint-Meran. In this case. a second marriage feast was being celebrated. he is in the hands of Justice. The Deputy Procureur du Roi.Danglars. "all has gone as I would have it. Instead of a rude mixture of sailors. The magistrates freely discussed their political views. excited universal enthusiasm. decorated with the cross of Saint Louis.--after having been accustomed to hear the "Vive Napoleons" of a hundred and twenty millions of human beings. "So far. In a word. glasses were elevated in the air a l'Anglais. although the occasion of the entertainment was similar. An old man. a woman with a stern. commander of the Pharaon. after the manner of one whose mind was overcharged with one absorbing idea. snatching their bouquets from their fair bosoms. he leaped into a boat. the company was strikingly dissimilar. if that fool of a Caderousse can be persuaded to hold his tongue. soldiers. But. an almost poetical fervor prevailed. while the women commented on the divorce of Josephine.

though still noble and distinguished in appearance. What I was saying. on one's wedding day there are more agreeable subjects of conversation than dry politics. that of Napoleon on the column of the Place Vendome. marquise!" interposed the old nobleman who had proposed the toast. with a look of tenderness that seemed out of keeping with her harsh dry features. there is always one bright smiling spot in the desert of her heart. and that the 9th Thermidor and the 4th of April. were lucky days for France. But there--now take him--he is your own for as long as you like. then. for whom we sacrificed rank. M. but--in truth--I was not attending to the conversation. these revolutionists. made their fortune by worshipping the rising sun. Observe. "I forgive you. not only as a leader and lawgiver. the other is the equality that degrades. while they. in the year 1814. Napoleon is the Mahomet of the West. let me tell you. madame. to my mind. despite her fifty years--"ah. The only difference consists in the opposite character of the equality advocated by these two men. they could not help admitting that the king. what supplied the place of those fine qualities. one brings a king within reach of the guillotine." "Marquise." replied the marquise. who have driven us from those very possessions they afterwards purchased for a mere trifle during the Reign of Terror. and that explains how it comes to pass that. Villefort. or devotion. their 'Napoleon the accursed. I would place each of these heroes on his right pedestal--that of Robespierre on his scaffold in the Place Louis Quinze." "They had. yes. would be compelled to own. and is worshipped by his commonplace but ambitions followers. has usurped quite enough. who. come. since we were content to follow the fortunes of a falling monarch.' while their wretched usurper his been. as I trust he is . but also as the personification of equality.eye. were they here. and that is the shrine of maternal love. that all true devotion was on our side. de Villefort. "let the young people alone. Renee. one is the equality that elevates. Villefort?" "I beg your pardon. de Villefort." "He!" cried the marquise: "Napoleon the type of equality! For mercy's sake. "Never mind." said a young and lovely girl. and eyes that seemed to float in liquid crystal. that the Bonapartists had not our sincerity. I shall be delighted to answer. "I do not mean to deny that both these men were revolutionary scoundrels." "Nay. the other elevates the people to a level with the throne. but. I beg to remind you my mother speaks to you." "If the marquise will deign to repeat the words I but imperfectly caught. smiling. fallen. worthy of being gratefully remembered by every friend to monarchy and civil order. on the contrary. I really must pray you to excuse me. and station was truly our 'Louis the well-beloved. and ever will be. "'tis all my fault for seizing upon M. was. to them their evil genius. what would you call Robespierre? Come. do not strip the latter of his just rights to bestow them on the Corsican." "Never mind. Villefort. with a profusion of light brown hair. madame." said M. however. dearest mother.' Am I not right. "and that was fanaticism." said Villefort. however all other feelings may be withered in a woman's nature. wealth." replied the young man. enthusiasm. so as to prevent his listening to what you said. yes.

I. now. a perfect amnesty and forgetfulness of the past. "let the past be forever forgotten." "Suffer me. am a stanch royalist." "Alas. you will be so much the more bound to visit the offence with rigorous punishment. and style myself de Villefort. that you are talking in a most dreadfully revolutionary strain? But I excuse it. also. it has been so with other usurpers--Cromwell. Let what may remain of revolutionary sap exhaust itself and die away with the old trunk. What avails recrimination over matters wholly past recall? For my own part. and altogether disown his political principles. your father lost no time in joining the new government. in proof of which I may remark. that while my family remained among the stanchest adherents of the exiled princes. Remember. without having the power. Still." "With all my heart.forever. compels me to be severe. that Villefort will be firm and inflexible for the future in his political principles. without wincing in the slightest degree at the tragic remembrance thus called up." A deep crimson suffused the countenance of Villefort. 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." "Do you know. the Count Noirtier became a senator." answered he. as I do" (and here she extended to him her hand)--"as I now do at your entreaty." replied Villefort. probably may still be--a Bonapartist. that we have pledged ourselves to his majesty for your fealty and strict loyalty. that you will kindly allow the veil of oblivion to cover and conceal the past. "excellently well said! Come. He was--nay. I promise you it affords me as little pleasure to revive it as it does you. who was not half so bad as Napoleon. All I ask is. and that while the Citizen Noirtier was a Girondin. as well as the times in which we live. "my profession. "that my father was a Girondin." interposed Renee. had his partisans and advocates. if you please. as it is known you belong to a suspected family. madame. also. madame. "'Tis true. Villefort." replied the marquise. I have hopes of obtaining what I have been for years endeavoring to persuade the marquise to promise. But bear in mind. namely. for instance. I have laid aside even the name of my father. "but bear in mind. Villefort. to separate entirely from the stock from which it sprung. and is called Noirtier." "Dear mother. Villefort!" cried the marquis. but he was not among the number of those who voted for the king's death. that should there fall in your way any one guilty of conspiring against the government." replied the marquise." returned Villefort. and had well-nigh lost his head on the same scaffold on which your father perished. marquise." "True. madame. and condescend only to regard the young shoot which has started up at a distance from the parent tree." "Bravo. Napoleon has still retained a train of parasitical satellites. on the contrary. any more than the wish. he was an equal sufferer with yourself during the Reign of Terror. and that at our recommendation the king consented to forget the past. I have already successfully . "you know very well it was agreed that all these disagreeable reminiscences should forever be laid aside. "to add my earnest request to Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran's.

" "Oh.conducted several public prosecutions. we shall be rid of Napoleon." replied the count. in the Island of Elba. madame. they were talking about it when we left Paris." said the Comte de Salvieux. As Villefort observes. indeed." "For heaven's sake. The king is either a king or no king. well." "Unfortunately. we shall find some way out of it. I never was in a law-court." said the marquise." answered Villefort. M." said Villefort. he should be upheld in peace and tranquillity. and assassinations in the lower. Napoleon. think so?" inquired the marquise. de Salvieux." "Nay. "So much the better." responded M. "There wasn't any trouble over treaties when it was a question of shooting the poor Duc d'Enghien. the sovereignty of which he coveted for his son. of which his brother-in-law is king. if he be acknowledged as sovereign of France. "An island situated on the other side of the equator. fearful of it. Marseilles is filled with half-pay officers." "Unfortunately. the law is frequently powerless to effect this. I am told it is so very amusing!" . all it can do is to avenge the wrong done. "I am. and the cherished friend of Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. getting up quarrels with the royalists. and we cannot molest Napoleon without breaking those compacts. de Villefort to purify Marseilles of his partisans. madame. and his proximity keeps up the hopes of his partisans. 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." "Do you." "You have heard. and face to face with Italy." "Oh. one of M. "and where is it decided to transfer him?" "To Saint Helena. de Villefort. from hence arise continual and fatal duels among the higher classes of persons. at least two thousand leagues from here. is too near France." said M. "the strong arm of the law is not called upon to interfere until the evil has taken place. who are daily. "do try and get up some famous trial while we are at Marseilles. and Naples. "it seems probable that. and we must trust to the vigilance of M. by the aid of the Holy Alliance. it is a great act of folly to have left such a man between Corsica. perhaps. where he was born. daughter to the Comte de Salvieux. at least. under one frivolous pretext or other. But we have not done with the thing yet. and brought the offenders to merited punishment. de Saint-Meran." cried a beautiful young creature. "that the Holy Alliance purpose removing him from thence?" "Yes. where is that?" asked the marquise. and chamberlain to the Comte d'Artois." "Well. de Saint-Meran's oldest friends." "Then all he has got to do is to endeavor to repair it. "there are the treaties of 1814.

my pride is to see the accused pale. that one accustomed. instead of--as is the case when a curtain falls on a tragedy--going home to sup peacefully with his family. "and in the interesting trial that young lady is anxious to witness." Renee uttered a smothered exclamation. that should any favorable opportunity present itself. and he who shall plot or contrive aught against the life and safety of the parent of thirty-two millions of souls." "For shame. No. the prisoner. in order to lash one's self into a state of sufficient vehemence and power. becoming more and more terrified. Renee." replied the young man." "Just the person we require at a time like the present. as for parricides. Suppose. and alarmed. "What a splendid business that last case of yours was. I would not choose to see the man against whom I pleaded smile. Upon my word. "Bravo!" cried one of the guests. against the movers of political conspiracies. "it matters very little what is done to them. you killed him ere the executioner had laid his hand upon him. becoming quite pale. to have served under Napoleon--well. to rush fearlessly on the very bayonets of his foe. the king is the father of his people. that is the very worst offence they could possibly commit. you behold in a law-court a case of real and genuine distress--a drama of life. at the word of his commander." replied the young magistrate with a smile. is a parricide upon a fearfully great . "you surely are not in earnest. M. one requires the excitement of being hateful in the eyes of the accused. however. will scruple more to drive a stiletto into the heart of one he knows to be his personal enemy. five or six times. that he may recommence his mimic woes on the morrow. "that is what I call talking to some purpose. M. I leave you to judge how far your nerves are calculated to bear you through such a scene." "What would you have? 'Tis like a duel." said a second. certainly. "inasmuch as. be assured. Of this. I will not fail to offer you the choice of being present. and who can say how many daggers may be ready sharpened. for instance. instead of shedding tears as at the fictitious tale of woe produced at a theatre. de Villefort!" said Renee. and such dreadful people as that."Amusing. for.--is removed from your sight merely to be reconducted to his prison and delivered up to the executioner. the case would only be still more aggravated." "Indeed I am." interposed Renee." "Oh. de Villefort. "don't you see how you are frightening us?--and yet you laugh. my dear Villefort!" remarked a third. than to slaughter his fellow-creatures. but as regards poor unfortunate creatures whose only crime consists in having mixed themselves up in political intrigues"-"Why. and then retiring to rest. agitated. don't you see. merely because bidden to do so by one he is bound to obey? Besides. can you expect for an instant. "I mean the trial of the man for murdering his father. agitated. The prisoner whom you there see pale. and only waiting a favorable opportunity to be buried in my heart?" "Gracious heavens." said Renee. as though in mockery of my words. as is more than probable. I have already recorded sentence of death. and as though beaten out of all composure by the fire of my eloquence.

There is a wise Latin proverb that is very much in point. decided preference and conviction. "I cannot speak Latin.' said his majesty. I should myself have recommended the match. "I have already had the honor to observe that my father has--at least. and that he is. as he gazed with unutterable tenderness on the lovely speaker. if so. 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. with a mournful smile. my child. and I assure you he seemed fully to comprehend that this mode of reconciling political differences was based upon sound and excellent principles." cried the marquis. 'is a young man of great judgment and discretion." whispered Villefort. "that M." said Renee." said Villefort with a bow. "attend to your doves." replied Villefort. at the present moment. for instance. who will be sure to make a figure in his profession. while I have no other impulse than warm. much as he would have done had he been addressing the bench in open court. without our suspecting it. my dear Villefort." responded the marquise. I like him much. he will have achieved a noble work. I hope so--abjured his past errors. possibly." "My love." "Make yourself quite easy on that point. Villefort looked carefully around to mark the effect of his oratory." added the incorrigible marquise. "you and I will always consult upon our verdicts." "Cedant arma togae. who. "Well." "And one which will go far to efface the recollection of his father's conduct." Having made this well-turned speech. de Villefort. good Renee. a firm and zealous friend to religion and order--a better royalist. 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. had not the noble marquis anticipated my wishes by requesting my consent to it. and embroidery. "I cannot help regretting you had not chosen some other profession than your own--a physician. had overheard our conversation. "but. de Villefort may prove the moral and political physician of this province. "Madame. M. interrupted us by saying. but do not meddle with what you do not understand. placed considerable emphasis on that of Villefort--'Villefort." said the marquise. your lap-dogs." cried the Comte de Salvieux. Do you know I always felt a shudder at the idea of even a destroying angel?" "Dear. with one of his sweetest smiles.'" ." replied Renee. than his son. but. for he has to atone for past dereliction. on the contrary. you have promised me--have you not?--always to show mercy to those I plead for.scale?" "I don't know anything about that. Nowadays the military profession is in abeyance and the magisterial robe is the badge of honor. "that is exactly what I myself said the other day at the Tuileries. 'Villefort'--observe that the king did not pronounce the word Noirtier. "Let us hope. Then the king." answered Villefort. "Do you know.

addressing her. he soon. and whispered a few words in his ear. not even that of my betrothal. and if the marquis chooses to be candid. his whole face beaming with delight. a servant entered the room. Villefort immediately rose from table and quitted the room upon the plea of urgent business. poor debtors." said Villefort. a sort of Bonaparte conspiracy has just been discovered. however. then. returned." "For my part. with an air of deep interest. and the stings of wasps. "You were wishing just now. when he went six months ago to consult him upon the subject of your espousing his daughter. Well. and miserable cheats to fall into M. turning pale. . you must desire for me some of those violent and dangerous diseases from the cure of which so much honor redounds to the physician." "And wherefore were you called away just now?" asked Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. I at least resemble the disciples of Esculapius in one thing--that of not being able to call a day my own."Is it possible the king could have condescended so far as to express himself so favorably of me?" asked the enraptured Villefort. Renee regarded him with fond affection. dear mother. Now. and that Providence will only permit petty offenders. and as though the utterance of Villefort's wish had sufficed to effect its accomplishment. measles. lit up as they then were with more than usual fire and animation." "Can I believe my ears?" cried the marquise. "Is it possible?" burst simultaneously from all who were near enough to the magistrate to hear his words." "Just the same as though you prayed that a physician might only be called upon to prescribe for headaches. "I love to see you thus. "I give you his very words. de Villefort's hands.--then I shall be contented. If you wish to see me the king's attorney." "That is true. which bids fair to make work for the executioner. were a conspirator to fall into your hands. "I trust your wishes will not prosper. he would be most welcome. "Why. 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." interposed Renee. "For a very serious matter. and certainly his handsome features. or any other slight affection of the epidermis." answered the marquis. "that I were a doctor instead of a lawyer." "How dreadful!" exclaimed Renee." At this moment." cried the marquise. if my information prove correct. seemed formed to excite the innocent admiration with which she gazed on her graceful and intelligent lover.

but if the charges brought against this Bonapartist hero prove correct. Ample corroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting the above-mentioned Edmond Dantes.'" "But. as it should have been. you really must give me leave to order his head to be cut off. You know we cannot yet pronounce him guilty. unless he goes forth under the especial protection of the headsman." "And where is the unfortunate being?" asked Renee. if the letter is found. Madame de Saint-Meran extended her dry bony hand to Villefort. "be merciful on this the day of our betrothal. has been the bearer of a letter from Murat to the usurper. "do not neglect your duty to linger with us. "I must try and fancy 'tis your dear hand I kiss. I promise to show all the lenity in my power. while imprinting a son-in-law's respectful salute on it. after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo." "True." said the marquise. . this day arrived from Smyrna. he sent for me." Renee shuddered. say the accused person." said Villefort:-"'The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and the religions institutions of his country. at least. clasping her hands." "O Villefort!" cried Renee. and again taken charge of another letter from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris. is not even addressed to you. Should it not be found in the possession of father or son. as much as to say. is but an anonymous scrawl." said Renee." "Come. but to the king's attorney. who. "this letter. opened his letters. who either carries the letter for Paris about with him. then. my sweet Renee. or has it at his father's abode. by his orders.-"To give you pleasure. he will not be likely to be trusted abroad again. and leaning over her chair said tenderly. You are the king's servant. looked at Renee. mate of the ship Pharaon. why. that one named Edmond Dantes." The young man passed round to the side of the table where the fair pleader sat." interrupted the marquise. after all. "and rely upon it. and looking towards her lover with piteous earnestness. but not finding me. thinking this one of importance. then it will assuredly be discovered in the cabin belonging to the said Dantes on board the Pharaon. took upon himself to give the necessary orders for arresting the accused party. dear mother. "She will soon get over these things. his secretary." So saying. which. "He is at my house. "Never mind that foolish girl. my friend."I will read you the letter containing the accusation." sighed poor Renee." "He is in safe custody. "Nay. and must go wherever that service calls you. but that gentleman being absent." "These are mournful auspices to accompany a betrothal." answered Villefort. come. Villefort." "Then the guilty person is absolutely in custody?" said the marquise.

The prisoner himself is named Edmond Dantes." then casting an expressive glance at his betrothed."Upon my word. he composed his face. who was waiting for him. Now. He was about to marry a young and charming woman. and which might interfere. he had carefully studied before the glass. child!" exclaimed the angry marquise. "Nay. exert in his favor. and said. and belonging to Morrel & Son. "Fear not. The sight of this officer recalled Villefort from the third heaven to earth. for your dear sake my justice shall be tempered with mercy. At the door he met the commissary of police. as we have before described. of course. of Marseilles. I promise you that to make up for her want of loyalty. now inform me what you have discovered concerning him and the conspiracy. than he assumed the grave air of a man who holds the balance of life and death in his hands. Already rich. madame. Except the recollection of the line of politics his father had adopted. he is very young. which were very great. which they would. no. trading in cotton with Alexandria and Smyrna. No sooner had Villefort left the salon. the prospect of seeing her fortune increased to half a million at her father's death." "Before he entered the merchant service. he held a high official situation. Chapter 7." and receiving a sweet and approving smile in return. and he had. sir. monsieur. "I have read the letter." "How old?" "Nineteen or twenty at the most. and you have acted rightly in arresting this man. with his own career. monsieur. and besides her personal attractions. it was by no means easy for him to assume an air of judicial severity. as became a deputy attorney of the king. mate on board the three-master the Pharaon. I pray you pardon this little traitor. The dowry of his wife amounted to fifty thousand crowns. Villefort quitted the room. not passionately. all the papers found have been sealed up and placed on your desk. "your folly exceeds all bounds. These considerations naturally gave Villefort a feeling of such complete felicity that his mind was fairly dazzled in its contemplation. besides. I will be most inflexibly severe." "We know nothing as yet of the conspiracy. but reasonably." . which seemed to say. The Examination. Gerard de Villefort was as happy as a man could be. 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. unless he acted with the greatest prudence. Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran's family possessed considerable political influence. though only twenty-seven. whom he loved. the command of which. had he ever served in the marines?" "Oh. in spite of the nobility of his countenance. like a finished actor.

-"I entreat you. Villefort's first impression was favorable. in this present epoch. de Villefort. embarrassed him. Morrel. Some of your people have committed the strangest mistake--they have just arrested Edmond Dantes. Oh. He is the most estimable. de Villefort.At this moment. besides. and that if he be innocent you shall not have appealed to me in vain. on the spot where Villefort had left him. "I am delighted to see you. be. and frankness in the thick lips that showed a set of pearly teeth. "Ah. belonged to the aristocratic party at Marseilles. while his eyes seemed to plunge into the heart of one who. as we have seen." This give us sounded revolutionary in the deputy's ears. politically speaking. be guilty. and replied. and I must do my duty." "I know it. Morrel reddened. the other suspected of Bonapartism. monsieur. as if petrified. that a man may be estimable and trustworthy in private life. and taking a packet which a gendarme offered him. M. "Monsieur. what Dantes had told him of his interview with the grand-marshal. stood the prisoner. carefully watched. arrested in a tavern. disappeared. however. carried away by his friendship. I beseech your indulgence for him. courage in the dark eye and bent brow. M. as you always are. cast a side glance at Dantes. Is it not true?" The magistrate laid emphasis on these words. and give him back to us soon. and what the emperor had said to him. Villefort traversed the ante-chamber. who seemed to have been waiting for him. and as Villefort had arrived at the corner of the Rue des Conseils. it was M. as if he wished to apply them to the owner himself. Morrel to the plebeian. in the midst of whom. you may rest assured I shall perform my duty impartially. however. and I do. kind and equitable. coldly saluted the shipowner. de Villefort. and I will venture to say. "is Dantes then a member of some Carbonari society." Villefort. He had recognized intelligence in the high forehead. a man. but calm and smiling. interceding for another. the first was a royalist. monsieur. there is not a better seaman in all the merchant service. Villefort looked disdainfully at Morrel. a great criminal. the most trustworthy creature in the world. He replied. and yet be." "Oh. "you do not know him. if I recollect." cried he. approached. but he had been so often . impunity would furnish a dangerous example. should he. which adjoined the Palais de Justice." said Morrel." Then he added. ah." replied Villefort.-"You are aware. and the best seaman in the merchant service. after having. for his own conscience was not quite clear on politics. in company with a great many others. he entered. "and I am now going to examine him. saying. "Bring in the prisoner. who stood. mate of my vessel. "Ah. had himself need of indulgence. that his protector thus employs the collective form? He was. The ante-chamber was full of police agents and gendarmes." Rapid as had been Villefort's glance." As he had now arrived at the door of his own house. it had served to give him an idea of the man he was about to interrogate." murmured he. M.

"I am mate of the Pharaon. who had never heard anything of the kind. that he applied the maxim to the impression." Villefort. surprised in the midst of his happiness." "It is reported your political opinions are extreme." added he. had swelled to voluminous proportions. "You were at the festival of your marriage?" said the deputy. was struck with this coincidence. Morrel & Son. belonging to Messrs. that a police agent had given to him on his entry. but calm and collected. He stifled. "will make a great sensation at M. Villefort turned to Dantes." said the young man. turning over a pile of papers. containing information relative to the prisoner. "My name is Edmond Dantes." returned Dantes. but was not sorry to make this ." replied the young man calmly. When this speech was arranged. therefore. "Nineteen. composed his features. grim and sombre. "I warn you I know very little. "Go on.--that look peculiar to the magistrate." "Your age?" continued Villefort." "Tell me on which point you desire information. "What would you have me say?" "Give all the information in your power. Morrel's salon. while seeming to read the thoughts of others. It was then that he encountered for the first time Villefort's look. the feelings of compassion that were rising. An instant after Dantes entered. sir. looked round for a seat." said Villefort. and that. as if he had been in M. I am on the point of marrying a young girl I have been attached to for three years. monsieur." "Have you served under the usurper?" "I was about to be mustered into the Royal Marines when he fell. in an hour's time." and he arranged mentally. so great was the contrast between that happy moment and the painful ceremony he was now undergoing. impassive as he was. betrays nothing of his own. who. monsieur. at his desk. his voice slightly tremulous." said he. with a smile. "This philosophic reflection.warned to mistrust first impulses. and sat down. He was pale. "What were you doing at the moment you were arrested?" "I was at the festival of my marriage." thought he. and he was summoned from his own happiness to destroy that of another. struck a sympathetic chord in his own bosom--he also was on the point of being married. forgetting the difference between the two words. and saluting his judge with easy politeness. only. the antithesis by which orators often create a reputation for eloquence. thanks to the corrupt espionage of which "the accused" is always made the victim. while Dantes awaited further questions. "Yes. so great was the contrast between the sombre aspect of M. de Villefort and the radiant face of Mercedes. and I will tell all I know. already. de Saint-Meran's. and the tremulous voice of Dantes. "Who and what are you?" demanded Villefort. shuddering in spite of himself.

as if it were an accusation. every word the young man uttered convinced him more and more of his innocence. Dantes seemed full of kindness. "have you any enemies. Villefort gazed at his ingenuous and open countenance." "You are wrong. but I have striven to repress it. I am hardly nineteen. "he is a noble fellow. who. Thus all my opinions--I will not say public. perhaps. sir. "Alas. not as a father. and I adore Mercedes. You seem a worthy young man." "I have enemies?" replied Dantes. do you know the writing?" As he spoke." Full of this idea. monsieur. I have no part to play. you should always strive to see clearly around you. and you see how uninteresting it is. and a sweet kiss in private. If I obtain the situation I desire. spite of Villefort's severe look and stern accent. Whoever did it writes well. I have had ten or twelve sailors under me." said Villefort.--simple. Here is the paper. As for my disposition. You are about to become captain at nineteen--an elevated post. somewhat too hasty. "Now. full of affection for everybody. and if you question them. at least. I respect M.-"No. Villefort saw how much energy lay hid beneath this mildness. "my position is not sufficiently elevated for that. and what you say may possibly be the case." "You are right." said the deputy. Villefort drew the letter from his pocket. not as a prisoner to a . and recollected the words of Renee. sir. "answer me frankly. Morrel. and yet it is tolerably plain. because then I should be forced to hate them. I never had any opinions." said Villefort. and presented it to Dantes. Morrel. for this envious person is a real enemy. natural.--I love my father. the latter. that is. who loves you. you know men better than I do.inquiry. I confess. for I am too young. I shall have at least a pressure of the hand in public. who had watched the change on his physiognomy. I will depart from the strict line of my duty to aid you in discovering the author of this accusation. I shall owe it to M. "My political opinions!" replied Dantes. had besought his indulgence for him. you are about to marry a pretty girl. looking gratefully at Villefort. but if such persons are among my acquaintances I prefer not to know it." And by the rapid glance that the young man's eyes shot forth. but private--are confined to these three sentiments. With the deputy's knowledge of crime and criminals. eloquent with that eloquence of the heart never found when sought for. that you know. for he was scarcely a man. they will tell you that they love and respect me. I do not know the writing. and because happiness renders even the wicked good--extended his affection even to his judge." "But you may have excited jealousy. This lad. Villefort's face became so joyous. was smiling also. I am very fortunate. and these two pieces of good fortune may have excited the envy of some one. A cloud passed over his brow as he said. I know nothing. "Sir. is all I can tell you. Dantes read it. This. "to be examined by such a man as you. I hope I shall gain Renee's favor easily by obeying the first command she ever imposed on me. but as an elder brother." As Dantes spoke." added he. because he was happy. "Pardieu. that when he turned to Dantes. without knowing who the culprit was.

and hastened to visit my affianced bride. his disorder rose to such a height. "this seems to me the truth. I hope she would be satisfied. gave me a letter to carry on to a person in Paris. but I sent the ring I had received from the captain to him. as the latter had told me. I sailed for the Island of Elba. but perhaps I shall not be admitted to the grand marshal's presence as easily as you expect?' "'Here is a ring that will obtain audience of him. 'swear to perform what I am going to tell you. assume the command. internally. and go and rejoin your friends. that at the end of the third day. but with a sailor the last requests of his superior are commands. captain. As we had no doctor on board. Morrel. Thanks to M. it was imprudence. and pass your word you will appear should you be required.' said the captain. "None at all." "Well.' replied I. "If Renee could see me." said Villefort. as I told you. I will tell you the real facts. I found some difficulty in obtaining access to the grand-marshal. 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. captain.judge." "Ah. and derive all the honor and profit from it. and what every one would have done in my place. for it is a matter of the deepest importance. and was instantly admitted. Give up this letter you have brought from Elba. he called me to him. whom I found more lovely than ever. the next day he died. and this imprudence was in obedience to the orders of your captain. and went on shore alone. as after my death the command devolves on you as mate. at my marriage-feast. all the forms were got over. by the life of my father"-"Speak. give him this letter--perhaps they will give you another letter." "And what did you do then?" "What I ought to have done. regulated the affairs of the vessel. and charge you with a commission. I swear by my honor as a sailor. where I arrived the next day.' "'I swear. that he would not touch at any other port. I undertook it because it was what my captain had bade me do. feeling he was dying. He questioned me concerning Captain Leclere's death. and he was so anxious to arrive at Elba. and would no longer call me a decapitator. I ordered everybody to remain on board. and." said Villefort. If you have been culpable. At these words he gave me a ring. monsieur. and I should have been married in an hour. Everywhere the last requests of a dying man are sacred. It was time--two hours after he was delirious. 'My dear Dantes.' "'I will do it. and to-morrow I intended to start for Paris. You will accomplish what I was to have done. but as one man to another who takes an interest in him. in a word I was. and bear up for the Island of Elba. by my love for Mercedes. disembark at Porto-Ferrajo. . As I had expected. had I not been arrested on this charge which you as well as I now see to be unjust. and remove every difficulty.' said he. when we quitted Naples. Captain Leclere was attacked with a brain fever. Then. ask for the grand-marshal. "'Well. I landed here.

" "Monsieur. No. "it was only to summon assistance for you." "Stop a moment. "Oh. Villefort could not have been more stupefied. "And you say that you are ignorant of the contents of this letter?" "I give you my word of honor. now began to feel a tenfold alarm. "stay where you are."I am free. "To whom is it addressed?" "To Monsieur Noirtier. far too much. "I was forced to read the address to know to whom to give it. "but what is the matter? You are ill--shall I ring for assistance?--shall I call?" "No." "It is a conspiracy. rising hastily. Noirtier." "And that was too much." said Villefort. but raised his head at the expiration of a few seconds. on my honor. Rue Coq-Heron. and not you." said Dantes. Paris. "M. except the person who gave it to me. After reading the letter. but you knew the name of the person to whom it was addressed. Rue Coq-Heron." said the deputy. sir?" cried Dantes joyfully." replied Villefort. 13. for it was taken from me with some others which I see in that packet. "do you know him?" "No. "a faithful servant of the king does not know conspirators." . and again perused the letter. Villefort's brow darkened more and more." said Dantes timidly. who after believing himself free. sir. I was entirely ignorant of the contents of the letter." "You have it already. "To no one. drew forth the fatal letter. and hastily turning over the packet. "Yes." "Yes. his white lips and clinched teeth filled Dantes with apprehension. then?" asked Dantes. Villefort covered his face with his hands." "Have you shown this letter to any one?" asked Villefort." murmured he." replied Dantes proudly. at which he glanced with an expression of terror." said Villefort. already told you." "Everybody is ignorant that you are the bearer of a letter from the Island of Elba. "what is the matter?" Villefort made no answer." said Dantes. but first give me this letter. becoming still more pale. Noirtier?" "Everybody. as Dantes took his hat and gloves." murmured Villefort. "I have. however. sir." Had a thunderbolt fallen into the room. He sank into his seat. It is for me to give orders here. and addressed to M. growing still paler. "Yes. then.

I must consult the trial justice. command. before doing so." "Be satisfied. and you see"--Villefort approached the fire." . deny all knowledge of it--deny it boldly." "It was the only letter you had?" "It was. and waited until it was entirely consumed. suddenly. but in vain." "Oh. it is impossible to doubt it. and I will follow your advice." "Listen. if he knows the contents of this!" murmured he." "I shall detain you until this evening in the Palais de Justice." exclaimed Dantes. "I am no longer able. it was a temporary indisposition." It was Villefort who seemed to entreat. "and that Noirtier is the father of Villefort. I will answer you. read the letter. what my own feeling is you already know." continued he. The principal charge against you is this letter. and you are saved. where fragments of burnt paper fluttered in the flames. question me. therefore. for the third time." Dantes waited. I will deny it." said he." continued Villefort. "Oh. answer me." "Oh.-"Sir. this is not a command. be questioned." cried Dantes." "I promise." cried he. glancing toward the grate. but advice I give you. and in a tone he strove to render firm. Attend to yourself. "You see. "you have been rather a friend than a judge. "You see. "In heaven's name!" cried the unhappy young man. Villefort fell back on his chair." "Well. I destroy it?" "Oh. expecting a question. you and I alone know of its existence. "you are goodness itself. I must detain you some time longer. but do not breathe a word of this letter. but I will strive to make it as short as possible. "Oh. and I will obey. monsieur. as I had hoped. say to him what you have said to me. to restore you immediately to liberty. "you can now have confidence in me after what I have done. "if you doubt me. should you." "Speak. and the prisoner who reassured him." "Swear it." "Listen. passed his hand over his brow. Should any one else interrogate you."I want none. I am lost!" And he fixed his eyes upon Edmond as if he would have penetrated his thoughts." Villefort made a violent effort. cast it in. moist with perspiration. and. "the letter is destroyed.

" And after having assured himself that the prisoner was gone. A door that communicated with the Palais de Justice was opened. resounded still in his ears like a promise of freedom. as we have said. At last." murmured he. "Follow him. The commissary of police. Chapter 8. the massy oaken door flew open. The air he inhaled was no longer pure. but stopped at the sight of this display of force. "This will do. By the torchlight Dantes saw the glittering sabres and carbines of four gendarmes. and just as Dantes began to despair. which might have ruined me. who placed themselves one on Dantes' right and the other on his left. the deputy procureur hastened to the house of his betrothed. He had advanced at first. and they went through a long range of gloomy corridors. "Alas. about ten o'clock. and its appearance. A police agent entered. as he traversed the ante-chamber." Villefort rang. the 1st of March. This accursed letter would have destroyed all my hopes. and his haggard eyes were fixed in thought. did not greatly alarm him. made a sign to two gendarmes. and Dantes sank again into his seat. but grated and barred. It was four o'clock when Dantes was placed in this chamber. After numberless windings. "Are you come to fetch me?" asked he. Now to the work I have in hand. "and from this letter. The door opened. Hardly had the door closed when Villefort threw himself half-fainting into a chair. a key turned in the lock. but thick and mephitic. steps were heard in the corridor. The Chateau D'If. a smile played round his set mouth. The Palais de Justice communicated with the prison.--a sombre edifice. and the prisoner was soon buried in darkness. my father. besides. must your past career always interfere with my successes?" Suddenly a light passed over his face. but the sound died away. whose appearance might have made even the boldest shudder. and a flood of light from two torches pervaded the apartment." said Villefort to Dantes. I will make my fortune." replied a gendarme. convinced they were about to liberate him. and the door closed with a loud sound behind him. to which the officer replied by a motion of his head. at the slightest sound he rose and hastened to the door."I swear it. Dantes saluted Villefort and retired. who seemed to interest himself so much. "By the orders of the deputy procureur?" . Villefort whispered some words in his ear. Dantes saw a door with an iron wicket." said he. "Yes. alas. The obscurity augmented the acuteness of his hearing. He was conducted to a tolerably neat chamber.--he was in prison. The commissary took up an iron mallet and knocked thrice. the bolts creaked. the words of Villefort. that from its grated windows looks on the clock-tower of the Accoules. "if the procureur himself had been at Marseilles I should have been ruined. It was. every blow seeming to Dantes as if struck on his heart. therefore. Oh. the two gendarmes gently pushed him forward.

and the carriage rolled heavily over the stones. a dozen soldiers came out and formed themselves in order." replied a gendarme. "Can all this force be summoned on my account?" thought he. Dantes folded his hands. de Villefort relieved all Dantes' apprehensions. answered Dantes' question. and by the Rue Saint-Laurent and the Rue Taramis. "It is for you. The carriage stopped. and. to the port. as Dantes knew. however. and about to double the battery. approached the guardhouse. The soldiers looked at Dantes with an air of stupid curiosity. and now through the open windows came the laughter and revelry of a ball. and four sturdy oarsmen impelled it rapidly towards the Pilon. where he had that morning been so happy. the coachman was on the box. The prisoner glanced at the windows--they were grated. The boat continued her voyage." Dantes. which was locked. which a custom-house officer held by a chain. near the quay. but feeling himself urged forward. Dantes was about to speak. "Whither are you taking me?" asked he. A carriage waited at the door. At a shout from the boat. then he was ordered to alight and the gendarmes on each side of him followed his example. and having neither the power nor the intention to resist. The two gendarmes who were opposite to him descended first. in the Frioul and outside the inner harbor. and was in an instant seated inside between two gendarmes. and prayed fervently. were now off the Anse du Pharo. raised his eyes to heaven. the officer descended. "Is this carriage for me?" said Dantes. he advanced calmly."I believe so. Dantes saw the reflection of their muskets by the light of the lamps on the quay. and a police officer sat beside him. between the gendarmes." "But still"-"We are forbidden to give you any explanation. In an instant he was placed in the stern-sheets of the boat. for he passed before La Reserve. Soon he saw the lights of La Consigne. Dantes saw they were passing through the Rue Caisserie. but he soon sighed. Through the grating. for he saw between the ranks of the soldiers a passage formed from the carriage to the port. he had changed his prison for another that was conveying him he knew not whither. he mounted the steps. They had passed the Tete de Morte. the two others took their places opposite. while the officer stationed himself at the bow. They advanced towards a boat. and placed himself in the centre of the escort." The conviction that they came from M. The officer opened the door. trained in . "You will soon know. without speaking a word. a shove sent the boat adrift. This manoeuvre was incomprehensible to Dantes. the chain that closes the mouth of the port was lowered and in a second they were. The prisoner's first feeling was of joy at again breathing the pure air--for air is freedom.

he had nothing to apprehend? Had not Villefort in his presence destroyed the fatal letter. a loyal Frenchman. this seemed a good augury. tell me where you are conducting me." "Your orders do not forbid your telling me what I must know in ten . thought accused of treason. the boat went on. his eyes fixed upon the light. Dantes turned and perceived that they had got out to sea. who were forbidden to reply. But pride restrained him and he did not utter it. the only proof against him? He waited silently. and Dantes saw that it came from Mercedes' chamber. for it was there Mercedes dwelt. "I adjure you. and taking his hand.-"You are a native of Marseilles. Dantes turned to the nearest gendarme. where the lighthouse stood. While he had been absorbed in thought. and so he remained silent. He was not bound. Mercedes was the only one awake in the whole settlement." said he." "I swear to you it is true. they were going to leave him on some distant point. A loud cry could be heard by her. to tell me where we are going. as a Christian and a soldier." The gendarme looked irresolutely at his companion. told him that provided he did not pronounce the dreaded name of Noirtier." "Have you no idea whatever?" "None at all." and the gendarme replied. and a sailor. he thought. The boat they were in could not make a long voyage. What would his guards think if they heard him shout like a madman? He remained silent.discipline. who had been so kind to him. they had shipped their oars and hoisted sail. the boat was now moving with the wind. perhaps. "I see no great harm in telling him now. striving to pierce through the darkness. Tell me. but the prisoner thought only of Mercedes. It seemed to the prisoner that he could distinguish a feminine form on the beach. I entreat. 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 I promise you on my honor I will submit to my fate. nor had they made any attempt to handcuff him. I have no idea. on the right. In spite of his repugnance to address the guards. there was no vessel at anchor outside the harbor. They had left the Ile Ratonneau. An intervening elevation of land hid the light. knew that nothing would be more absurd than to question subordinates." "But my orders. The most vague and wild thoughts passed through his mind. who returned for answer a sign that said." "That is impossible. Besides.-"Comrade. and yet you do not know where you are going?" "On my honor. had not the deputy. and were now opposite the Point des Catalans. I am Captain Dantes.

" "I do not." said he. comrades. or an hour." said the gendarme. and good thick walls. placing his knee on his chest. "but I know we are taking you to the Chateau d'If." And he levelled his carbine at Dantes. which has for more than three hundred years furnished food for so many wild legends. and. and of so ending But he bethought him of M." Dantes pressed the gendarme's hand as though he would crush it. and if you move. come." said the gendarme. But what are you doing? Help. or you will make me think you are laughing at me in return for my good nature. help!" By a rapid movement. which the gendarme's practiced eye had perceived. de Villefort's promise." "Without any inquiry. Dantes sprang forward to precipitate himself into the sea. Are there any magistrates or judges at the Chateau d'If?" "There are only. do not look so astonished.minutes. de Villefort's promises?" "I do not know what M." said Dantes. you must know. I have committed no crime. "You think. but there is no occasion to squeeze so hard. "a governor. "Good!" said the gendarme. de Villefort promised you. in half an hour." "And so. "I am not going there to be imprisoned. You see I cannot escape. but four vigorous arms seized him as his feet quitted the bottom of the boat. For a moment the idea of struggling crossed the unexpected evil that had overtaken him. but I will not disobey the second. my friend. turnkeys. This gloomy fortress. or have never been outside the harbor." "Look round you then. "believe soft-spoken gentlemen again! Harkye. I have disobeyed my first order. his mind. He remained teeth and wringing his hands with fury. the inquiry is already made. "that I am taken to the Chateau d'If to be imprisoned there?" "It is probable." Dantes rose and looked forward. seemed to Dantes like a scaffold to a malefactor. I will blow your brains out. in a boat from the hand of motionless. who felt the muzzle against his temple." "Unless you are blind. without any formality?" "All the formalities have been gone through. in spite of M. One of . He fell back cursing with rage. when he saw rise within a hundred yards of him the black and frowning rock on which stands the Chateau d'If. besides. even if I intended. a garrison. "it is only used for political prisoners. death a gendarme seemed too terrible. "what are we going there for?" The gendarme smiled. but gnashing his At this moment the boat came to a landing with a violent shock. then. "The Chateau d'If?" cried he. Come.

To-morrow. Goodnight. and of sullen appearance. he was conscious that he passed through a door. and the governor is asleep. The jailer advanced. whose bare and reeking walls seemed as though impregnated with tears. with orders to leave Dantes where he was.the sailors leaped on shore. and as they passed before the light he saw the barrels of their muskets shine." 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. he was in a court surrounded by high walls." said he. Dantes made no resistance. "It is late. and fresh straw. during which he strove to collect his thoughts. Edmond started. "Where is the prisoner?" said a voice. Dantes appeared not to perceive him. his eyes swollen with weeping. water. while the police officer carrying a musket with fixed bayonet followed behind. ." replied Dantes. that terrible barrier against freedom. They seemed awaiting orders. thrusting Dantes forward. "Here is your chamber for to-night. "Let him follow me. In the meantime there is bread." replied the gendarmes. He found the prisoner in the same position. "I do not know. a cord creaked as it ran through a pulley. and showed Dantes the features of his conductor. Dantes was alone in darkness and in silence--cold as the shadows that he felt breathe on his burning forehead. His guards." "Go!" said the gendarmes. "Have you not slept?" said the jailer. and dragged him towards the steps that lead to the gate of the fortress. and Dantes guessed they were at the end of the voyage. taking him by the arms and coat-collar. as if fixed there. he heard the measured tread of sentinels. taking with him the lamp and closing the door. the jailer disappeared. and that the door closed behind him. The prisoner followed his guide. he knew vaguely that he was ascending a flight of steps. He touched him on the shoulder. and that they were mooring the boat. I will take him to his cell. ill-clothed. he was like a man in a dream: he saw soldiers drawn up on the embankment. He looked around. and that is all a prisoner can wish for. With the first dawn of day the jailer returned. but all this indistinctly as through a mist. The orders came. They waited upwards of ten minutes. the gendarmes released him. He had passed the night standing. he may change you. and without sleep. who led him into a room almost under ground. perhaps. "Here. They halted for a minute. which the prisoners look upon with utter despair. an under-jailer. forced him to rise. The jailer stared. leaving stamped upon the prisoner's mind the dim reflection of the dripping walls of his dungeon. Certain Dantes could not escape. a lamp placed on a stool illumined the apartment faintly. He did not even see the ocean.

he would have been free. and stretched forth his hands towards the open door. "are you more reasonable to-day?" Dantes made no reply. The thought was maddening. a dozen times. and prisoners must not even ask for it. books. and do not care to walk about." "What is allowed. and." "Why so?" "Because it is against prison rules. . where Mercedes and his father could have joined him. He spoke Italian like a Tuscan. The next morning at the same hour." "Well. whereas he was now confined in the Chateau d'If. He had no fears as to how he should live--good seamen are welcome everywhere." said Edmond. whereas he might. but the door closed. then. he replied in a more subdued tone." said the jailer. "Come. that impregnable fortress. concealed himself until the arrival of a Genoese or Spanish vessel. that during his journey hither he had sat so still. cheer up. then?" "Better fare. "I do not know. if you pay for it." "If you worry me by repeating the same thing. he cast himself on the ground. and asking himself what crime he had committed that he was thus punished." "I do not want books. weeping bitterly. and all this because he had trusted to Villefort's promise." The jailer saw by his tone he would be happy to die." The jailer shrugged his shoulders and left the chamber. and as every prisoner is worth ten sous a day to his jailer. One thought in particular tormented him: namely. All his emotion then burst forth. Dantes followed him with his eyes. ignorant of the future destiny of his father and Mercedes." "I have already told you it was impossible. for which he was famous. "if you do not. and happy with Mercedes and his father. have gained the shore. he scarcely tasted food. but I wish to see the governor. I am satisfied with my food. and leave to walk about. escaped to Spain or Italy. but walked round and round the cell like a wild beast in its cage. The day passed thus. I will not bring you any more to eat. have plunged into the sea. I shall die of hunger--that is all." "Do you wish for anything?" "I wish to see the governor."Are you hungry?" continued he. is there anything that I can do for you?" "I wish to see the governor. thanks to his powers of swimming. "Well. and Spanish like a Castilian. the jailer came again. and Dantes threw himself furiously down on his straw.

"I am not an abbe. The abbe began like you. unfortunately. the first time you go to Marseilles." "If I took them." "Was he liberated. I will send word to the governor." "How long has he left it?" "Two years. that is his affair. but I will give you a hundred crowns if." "You think so?" "Yes. I will some day hide myself behind the door." Dantes whirled the stool round his head. I am not. he was put in a dungeon. perhaps I shall be. mad enough to tie up. because I have it not. it was by always offering a million of francs to the governor for his liberty that an abbe became mad. "do not always brood over what is impossible." "Threats!" cried the jailer. but if you are very well behaved you will be allowed to walk about. and some day you will meet the governor."What you ask is impossible." "But. we have an instance here. or you will be mad in a fortnight." "It is too long a time. then?" "No. a month--six months--a year. "mark this." "Well. "how long shall I have to wait?" "Ah. I am not mad. since you will have it so. so that I should be a great fool to run such a risk for three hundred. and returned in an instant with a corporal and four soldiers. at the Catalans. if you refuse at least to tell Mercedes I am here." said Dantes. dropping the stool and sitting on it as if he were in reality mad." "Ah. "all right." said he." "What is that?" "I do not offer you a million. "By the governor's orders. but. I should lose my place. fortunately. you will seek out a young girl named Mercedes. and in three days you will be like him. "you are certainly going mad. retreating and putting himself on the defensive." "Listen!" said Dantes. and when you enter I will dash out your brains with this stool. I will make you another offer. I wish to see him at once. and were detected. The jailer went out." "Very well. but at present. "All right. who was in this chamber before you." asked Dantes." returned Dantes. all right. and give her two lines from me." said the jailer. which is worth two thousand francs a year." said the jailer. there are dungeons here. "conduct the prisoner to the tier . and if he chooses to reply.

it is really a serious matter. we must put the madman with the madmen. The jailer was right. and the door of a dungeon was opened. Decapitator. and will with pleasure undertake them. "Yes. with all the rest of the company. "So serious that I must take leave of you for a few days. what is the matter?" said one. anxiously awaiting him. Villefort had. "Yes. as soon as they were by themselves. hastened back to Madame de Saint-Meran's in the Place du Grand Cours. and his entrance was followed by a general exclamation. and they left the salon. approaching his future mother-in-law. and Dantes advanced with outstretched hands until he touched the wall. Chapter 9. Renee was." The marquis took his arm. "Marquise. The Evening of the Betrothal. turning to Renee. that demands my immediate . Brutus.beneath. unable to hide her emotion at this unexpected announcement. he then sat down in the corner until his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. but if you have any commissions for Paris. and on entering the house found that the guests whom he had left at table were taking coffee in the salon. as we have said." added he. He descended fifteen steps. Will the marquis honor me by a few moments' private conversation?" "Ah. "Well. "You wish to speak to me alone?" said the marquis. please. are you going?" asked the marquise. then." asked he. is an official secret. "I request your pardon for thus leaving you. "That." The guests looked at each other. "I must!" "Where. "Alas." "To the dungeon. "tell me what it is?" "An affair of the greatest importance." "You are going to leave us?" cried Renee. The door closed. "judge for yourself if it be not important." returned Villefort. "Speak out. then. so. let us go to the library." The soldiers seized Dantes. then?" asked the marquis. madame. Guardian of the State. "Has the Corsican ogre broken loose?" cried a third. and he was thrust in." said the corporal. remarking the cloud on Villefort's brow. a friend of mine is going there to-night." said Villefort. "Well. who followed passively." "Are we threatened with a fresh Reign of Terror?" asked another. Dantes wanted but little of being utterly mad. Royalist.

ordering him to sell out at the market price." "But how can I sell out here?" "You have a broker." "Be as quick as possible. have you not?" "Yes. that would occasion a loss of precious time." "Tell your coachman to stop at the door." "Then give me a letter to him. marquis. seven or eight hundred thousand francs." "In that case go and get ready." "Doubtless. marquis. I must be on the road in a quarter of an hour. then." "You will present my excuses to the marquise and Mademoiselle Renee. he has the right of entry at the Tuileries. sitting down. placing the letter in his pocketbook. marquis. Now. I want a letter that will enable me to reach the king's presence without all the formalities of demanding an audience. "let us lose no time.presence in Paris." "But address yourself to the keeper of the seals. he wrote a letter to his broker." "To the king?" "Yes. "Now. and can procure you audience at any hour of the day or night. and take all the glory to himself." "I dare not write to his majesty." . but have you any landed property?" "All my fortune is in the funds. perhaps even now I shall arrive too late. my fortune is made if I only reach the Tuileries the first. and tell him to sell out without an instant's delay. or you will lose it all. but ask M." "Then sell out--sell out. The keeper would leave me in the background." "The deuce you say!" replied the marquis. then!" And. de Salvieux to do so." said Villefort. "I must have another!" "To whom?" "To the king. whom I leave on such a day with great regret." "I do not ask you to write to his majesty. excuse the indiscretion. for the king will not forget the service I do him. I will call Salvieux and make him write the letter. but there is no occasion to divide the honors of my discovery with him. I tell you.

The man he sacrificed to his ambition. but reflecting that the sight of the deputy procureur running through the streets would be enough to throw the whole city into confusion. and when she inquired what had become of her lover. only close to reopen more agonizing than ever. Then the first pangs of an unending torture seized upon his heart. He had frequently called for capital punishment on criminals. It was Mercedes. it seemed to him that she was the judge." said she. But remorse is not thus banished. If at this moment the . she advanced and stood before him. he pushed by her. "I do not know. and can make your farewells in person. It is thus that a wounded man trembles instinctively at the approach of the finger to his wound until it be healed. but the executioner. "Say to the Comte de Salvieux that I would like to see him. as if to exclude the pain he felt. "I shall be gone only a few moments. but Villefort's was one of those that never close. and sank into a chair. but here was an innocent man whose happiness he had destroyed: in this case he was not the judge. appeared to him pale and threatening. and Villefort instantly recognized her. "But."You will find them both here." Mercedes burst into tears. go. he believed so." said Villefort abruptly. and which had hitherto been unknown to him. that I may know whether he is alive or dead." "A thousand thanks--and now for the letter. and closed the door. at least. that innocent victim immolated on the altar of his father's faults." "Now. "The young man you speak of. because they were guilty. and. not such as the ancients figured. who. but that slow and consuming agony whose pangs are intensified from hour to hour up to the very moment of death. arise in his bosom. furious and terrible. he carried the arrow in his wound. Villefort uttered a sigh that was almost a sob. again addressed him. Then he had a moment's hesitation. leading his affianced bride by the hand. and I can do nothing for him. arrived at the salon." said the marquis. and bringing with him remorse. he felt the sensation we have described. As Villefort drew near. he resumed his ordinary pace. a servant entered. As he thus reflected. and yet the slightest shadow of remorse had never clouded Villefort's brow. Dantes had spoken of Mercedes. or if they do. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him." replied Villefort. at least. hearing no news of her lover." Villefort hastily quitted the apartment. "is a great criminal. he is no longer in my hands. and he the accused. as Villefort strove to pass her. had come unobserved to inquire after him. like Virgil's wounded hero. and fill him with vague apprehensions. and." The marquis rang. And desirous of putting an end to the interview. and owing to his irresistible eloquence they had been condemned. then. tell me where he is. At his door he perceived a figure in the shadow that seemed to wait for him. mademoiselle.

" returned Fernand sorrowfully. and Renee. who came to tell him that the travelling carriage was in readiness. perceiving that his servant had placed his cloak on his shoulders. ordering the postilions to drive to M. he met with nothing but refusal. Villefort rose. She loved Villefort. de Saint-Meran's. kneeling by her side. With his elbows on the table he sat between the two empty bottles. but she knew not that it was day. like M. in the hope of drowning reflection. Grief had made her blind to all but one object--that was Edmond. from his chair. but she paid no heed to the darkness. Danglars was one of those men born with a pen behind the ear. Villefort knew not when he should return. his hand pressed to his head. while spectres danced in the light of the unsnuffed candle--spectres such as Hoffmann strews over his punch-drenched pages. I conjure you to restore me my affianced husband. or the fair Mercedes had entered and said. muttered a few inarticulate sounds. by taking . Danglars alone was content and joyous--he had got rid of an enemy and made his own situation on the Pharaon secure. for he fancied she was again about to plead for Dantes. her emotions were wholly personal: she was thinking only of Villefort's departure. but no voice broke the stillness of the chamber. at length. stood motionless an instant. or rather sprang. Alas. Villefort found the marquise and Renee in waiting. "In the name of God. She passed the night thus. and yet not so intoxicated as to forget what had happened. to aid Dantes. "I have not quitted you since yesterday. and the influential persons of the city. and then. especially when. and became too intoxicated to fetch any more drink. like black. and dawn came. Meanwhile what of Mercedes? She had met Fernand at the corner of the Rue de la Loge. and an inkstand in place of a heart. He had learned that Dantes had been taken to prison. turning towards Fernand. you are there. but the report was already in circulation that Dantes was arrested as a Bonapartist agent. far from pleading for Dantes. but instead of seeking. Morrel. Morrel had not readily given up the fight.sweet voice of Renee had sounded in his ears pleading for mercy. and as the most sanguine looked upon any attempt of Napoleon to remount the throne as impossible. took her hand. he sprang into the carriage. and he left her at the moment he was about to become her husband. "Ah. But he did not succeed. declaring that the matter was serious and that nothing more could be done. The lamp went out for want of oil." his cold and trembling hands would have signed his release. hastily opened one of the drawers of his desk. she had returned to the Catalans. and had despairingly cast herself on her couch. fantastic dust. Fernand. As the marquis had promised. and covered it with kisses that Mercedes did not even feel. and the door was opened only by Villefort's valet. The life of a man was to him of far less value than a numeral. Caderousse was equally restless and uneasy." said she. M. He started when he saw Renee. emptied all the gold it contained into his pocket. The hapless Dantes was doomed. and he had gone to all his friends. Everything with him was multiplication or subtraction. and had returned home in despair. hated the man whose crime separated her from her lover. he had shut himself up with two bottles of black currant brandy.

have you had a vision of the seven fat kine and the seven lean kine?" "No. and exceedingly gentlemanly attire. There." "Really. Chapter 10. who will bring you back a faithful report as to the feeling in these three provinces?" "Caninus surdis. seated before a walnut table he had brought with him from Hartwell. and shaken that of the marquis. in order that he might seem . Louis XVIII." replied the courtier. scarcity is not a thing to be feared. sire. Louis XVIII. and to which. enter at the Tuileries the little room with the arched window. continuing the annotations in his Horace. and now of Louis Philippe. my dear duke.. "You say. de Salvieux' letter. and with a king as full of foresight as your majesty. after having received M." continued M." "Well. on the contrary. Provence. "That I am exceedingly disquieted. and passing through two or three apartments. embraced Renee." replied Louis XVIII. will your majesty send into Languedoc. He went to bed at his usual hour. edition of Horace--a work which was much indebted to the sagacious observations of the philosophical monarch. trusty men. "I think you are wrongly informed.it away. he could increase the sum total of his own desires. and Dauphine. The King's Closet at the Tuileries. kissed the marquise's hand. Old Dantes was dying with anxiety to know what had become of Edmond. "if it only be to reassure a faithful servant. but much sought-after. was carelessly listening to a man of fifty or fifty-two years of age." "Then of what other scourge are you afraid. and slept in peace. the king. Villefort. so well known as having been the favorite closet of Napoleon and Louis XVIII. he was particularly attached. and know positively that. started for Paris along the Aix road. de Blacas. I have every reason to believe that a storm is brewing in the south. "Sire. aristocratic bearing. liked a pleasant jest.. "Sire. and meanwhile making a marginal note in a volume of Gryphius's rather inaccurate. travelling--thanks to trebled fees--with all speed. sire. with gray hair." replied the king. We will leave Villefort on the road to Paris. it is very fine weather in that direction." Man of ability as he was. for that would only betoken for us seven years of plenty and seven years of scarcity. my dear Blacas?" "Sire. But we know very well what had become of Edmond. from one of those fancies not uncommon to great people. sir"--said the king. laughing..

with repressed smile. horrida bella." said Blacas. in a hand as small as possible. Dandre leaned very respectfully on the back of a chair with his two hands. by his adherents.to comprehend the quotation. and tell the duke all you know--the latest news of M.. and so I hastened to you. or." "Here. and then looking at the duke with the air of a man who thinks he has an idea of his own. still annotating. "you with your alarms prevent me from working. my dear sir. "I am compelled to tell you that these are not mere rumors destitute of foundation which thus disquiet me. the Island of Elba is a volcano.--let us see. wrote." There was a brief pause. "Does your majesty wish me to drop the subject?" "By no means." and M. Baron. at least. who cannot find anything. but tell the duke himself. wait a moment. during which Louis XVIII." . "Come in. my dear duke. sire?" "I tell you to the left. and charged by me to watch over the south" (the duke hesitated as he pronounced these words). announced by the chamberlain-in-waiting. entered. Dandre himself." "By whom?" "By Bonaparte. sire." M.." "Mala ducis avi domum. You will find yesterday's report of the minister of police." "And you. but a serious-minded man. while he is only commenting upon the idea of another." "Which?" "Whichever you please--there to the left. yes." "Wait. and we may expect to have issuing thence flaming and bristling war--bella. and said. but just stretch out your hand. my dear duke. sire. "has arrived by post to tell me that a great peril threatens the king. "your majesty may be perfectly right in relying on the good feeling of France. de Bonaparte. I mean on my left--yes. and you are looking to the right.-"Go on. "come in. deserving all my confidence.-"Has your majesty perused yesterday's report?" "Yes." said the king. said. another note on the margin of his Horace. go on--I listen. there. but I fear I am not altogether wrong in dreading some desperate attempt. and I will listen to you afterwards. do not conceal anything. Dandre. But here is M." "Sire. what the report contains--give him the particulars of what the usurper is doing in his islet." said Louis XVIII. prevent me from sleeping with your security. for I have such a delightful note on the Pastor quum traheret--wait." "My dear Blacas." continued Louis XVIII. who had for a moment the hope of sacrificing Villefort to his own profit. however serious.

"Monsieur," said the baron to the duke, "all the servants of his majesty must approve of the latest intelligence which we have from the Island of Elba. Bonaparte"--M. Dandre looked at Louis XVIII., who, employed in writing a note, did not even raise his head. "Bonaparte," continued the baron, "is mortally wearied, and passes whole days in watching his miners at work at Porto-Longone." "And scratches himself for amusement," added the king. "Scratches himself?" inquired the duke, "what does your majesty mean?" "Yes, indeed, my dear duke. Did you forget that this great man, this hero, this demigod, is attacked with a malady of the skin which worries him to death, prurigo?" "And, moreover, my dear duke," continued the minister of police, "we are almost assured that, in a very short time, the usurper will be insane." "Insane?" "Raving mad; his head becomes weaker. Sometimes he weeps bitterly, sometimes laughs boisterously, at other time he passes hours on the seashore, flinging stones in the water and when the flint makes 'duck-and-drake' five or six times, he appears as delighted as if he had gained another Marengo or Austerlitz. Now, you must agree that these are indubitable symptoms of insanity." "Or of wisdom, my dear baron--or of wisdom," said Louis XVIII., laughing; "the greatest captains of antiquity amused themselves by casting pebbles into the ocean--see Plutarch's life of Scipio Africanus." M. de Blacas pondered deeply between the confident monarch and the truthful minister. Villefort, who did not choose to reveal the whole secret, lest another should reap all the benefit of the disclosure, had yet communicated enough to cause him the greatest uneasiness. "Well, well, Dandre," said Louis XVIII., "Blacas is not yet convinced; let us proceed, therefore, to the usurper's conversion." The minister of police bowed. "The usurper's conversion!" murmured the duke, looking at the king and Dandre, who spoke alternately, like Virgil's shepherds. "The usurper converted!" "Decidedly, my dear duke." "In what way converted?" "To good principles. Tell him all about it, baron." "Why, this is the way of it," said the minister, with the gravest air in the world: "Napoleon lately had a review, and as two or three of his old veterans expressed a desire to return to France, he gave them their dismissal, and exhorted them to 'serve the good king.' These were his own words, of that I am certain." "Well, Blacas, what think you of this?" inquired the king triumphantly, and pausing for a moment from the voluminous scholiast before him.

"I say, sire, that the minister of police is greatly deceived or I am; 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, it is probable that I am in error. However, sire, if I might advise, your majesty will interrogate the person of whom I spoke to you, and I will urge your majesty to do him this honor." "Most willingly, duke; under your auspices I will receive any person you please, but you must not expect me to be too confiding. Baron, have you any report more recent than this dated the 20th February.--this is the 4th of March?" "No, sire, but I am hourly expecting one; it may have arrived since I left my office." "Go thither, and if there be none--well, well," continued Louis XVIII., "make one; that is the usual way, is it not?" and the king laughed facetiously. "Oh, sire," replied the minister, "we have no occasion to invent any; every day our desks are loaded with most circumstantial denunciations, coming from hosts of people who hope for some return for services which they seek to render, but cannot; they trust to fortune, and rely upon some unexpected event in some way to justify their predictions." "Well, sir, go"; said Louis XVIII., "and remember that I am waiting for you." "I will but go and return, sire; I shall be back in ten minutes." "And I, sire," said M. de Blacas, "will go and find my messenger." "Wait, sir, wait," said Louis XVIII. "Really, M. de Blacas, I must change your armorial bearings; I will give you an eagle with outstretched wings, holding in its claws a prey which tries in vain to escape, and bearing this device--Tenax." "Sire, I listen," said De Blacas, biting his nails with impatience. "I wish to consult you on this passage, 'Molli fugiens anhelitu,' you know it refers to a stag flying from a wolf. Are you not a sportsman and a great wolf-hunter? Well, then, what do you think of the molli anhelitu?" "Admirable, sire; but my messenger is like the stag you refer to, for he has posted two hundred and twenty leagues in scarcely three days." "Which is undergoing great fatigue and anxiety, my dear duke, when we have a telegraph which transmits messages in three or four hours, and that without getting in the least out of breath." "Ah, far, only your sire, you recompense but badly this poor young man, who has come so and with so much ardor, to give your majesty useful information. If for the sake of M. de Salvieux, who recommends him to me, I entreat majesty to receive him graciously."

"M. de Salvieux, my brother's chamberlain?" "Yes, sire."

"He is at Marseilles." "And writes me thence." "Does he speak to you of this conspiracy?" "No; but strongly recommends M. de Villefort, and begs me to present him to your majesty." "M. de Villefort!" cried the king, "is the messenger's name M. de Villefort?" "Yes, sire." "And he comes from Marseilles?" "In person." "Why did you not mention his name at once?" replied the king, betraying some uneasiness. "Sire, I thought his name was unknown to your majesty." "No, no, Blacas; he is a man of strong and elevated understanding, ambitious, too, and, pardieu, you know his father's name!" "His father?" "Yes, Noirtier." "Noirtier the Girondin?--Noirtier the senator?" "He himself." "And your majesty has employed the son of such a man?" "Blacas, my friend, you have but limited comprehension. I told you Villefort was ambitious, and to attain this ambition Villefort would sacrifice everything, even his father." "Then, sire, may I present him?" "This instant, duke! Where is he?" "Waiting below, in my carriage." "Seek him at once." "I hasten to do so." The duke left the royal presence with the speed of a young man; his really sincere royalism made him youthful again. Louis XVIII. remained alone, and turning his eyes on his half-opened Horace, muttered,-"Justum et tenacem propositi virum." M. de Blacas returned as speedily as he had departed, but in the ante-chamber he was forced to appeal to the king's authority. Villefort's dusty garb, his costume, which was not of courtly cut, excited the susceptibility of M. de Breze, who was all astonishment at

finding that this young man had the audacity to enter before the king in such attire. The duke, however, overcame all difficulties with a word--his majesty's order; and, in spite of the protestations which the master of ceremonies made for the honor of his office and principles, Villefort was introduced. The king was seated in the same place where the duke had left him. On opening the door, Villefort found himself facing him, and the young magistrate's first impulse was to pause. "Come in, M. de Villefort," said the king, "come in." Villefort bowed, and advancing a few steps, waited until the king should interrogate him. "M. de Villefort," said Louis XVIII., "the Duc de Blacas assures me you have some interesting information to communicate." "Sire, the duke is right, and I believe your majesty will think it equally important." "In the first place, and before everything else, sir, is the news as bad in your opinion as I am asked to believe?" "Sire, I believe it to be most urgent, but I hope, by the speed I have used, that it is not irreparable." "Speak as fully as you please, sir," said the king, who began to give way to the emotion which had showed itself in Blacas's face and affected Villefort's voice. "Speak, sir, and pray begin at the beginning; I like order in everything." "Sire," said Villefort, "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." A glance at the king after this discreet and subtle exordium, assured Villefort of the benignity of his august auditor, and he went on:-"Sire, I have come as rapidly to Paris as possible, to inform your majesty that I have discovered, in the exercise of my duties, not a commonplace and insignificant plot, such as is every day got up in the lower ranks of the people and in the army, but an actual conspiracy--a storm which menaces no less than your majesty's throne. Sire, the usurper is arming three ships, he meditates some project, which, however mad, is yet, perhaps, terrible. At this moment he will have left Elba, to go whither I know not, but assuredly to attempt a landing either at Naples, or on the coast of Tuscany, or perhaps on the shores of France. Your majesty is well aware that the sovereign of the Island of Elba has maintained his relations with Italy and France?" "I am, sir," said the king, much agitated; "and recently we have had information that the Bonapartist clubs have had meetings in the Rue Saint-Jacques. But proceed, I beg of you. How did you obtain these details?" "Sire, they are the results of an examination which I have made of a man of Marseilles, whom I have watched for some time, and arrested on the day of my departure. This person, a sailor, of turbulent character, and whom I suspected of Bonapartism, has been secretly to the Island of Elba. There he saw the grand-marshal, who charged him with an oral message to a Bonapartist in Paris, whose name I could not extract from him; but this mission was to prepare men's minds for a return (it is the

man who says this, sire)--a return which will soon occur." "And where is this man?" "In prison, sire." "And the matter seems serious to you?" "So serious, sire, that when the circumstance surprised me in the midst of a family festival, on the very day of my betrothal, I left my bride and friends, postponing everything, that I might hasten to lay at your majesty's feet the fears which impressed me, and the assurance of my devotion." "True," said Louis XVIII., "was there not a marriage engagement between you and Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran?" "Daughter of one of your majesty's most faithful servants." "Yes, yes; but let us talk of this plot, M. de Villefort." "Sire, I fear it is more than a plot; I fear it is a conspiracy." "A conspiracy in these times," said Louis XVIII., smiling, "is a thing very easy to meditate, but more difficult to conduct to an end, inasmuch as, re-established so recently on the throne of our ancestors, we have our eyes open at once upon the past, the present, and the future. For the last ten months my ministers have redoubled their vigilance, in order to watch the shore of the Mediterranean. If Bonaparte landed at Naples, the whole coalition would be on foot before he could even reach Piomoino; if he land in Tuscany, he will be in an unfriendly territory; if he land in France, it must be with a handful of men, and the result of that is easily foretold, execrated as he is by the population. Take courage, sir; but at the same time rely on our royal gratitude." "Ah, here is M. Dandre!" cried de Blacas. At this instant the minister of police appeared at the door, pale, trembling, and as if ready to faint. Villefort was about to retire, but M. de Blacas, taking his hand, restrained him.

Chapter 11. The Corsican Ogre. At the sight of this agitation Louis XVIII. pushed from him violently the table at which he was sitting. "What ails you, baron?" he exclaimed. "You appear quite aghast. Has your uneasiness anything to do with what M. de Blacas has told me, and M. de Villefort has just confirmed?" M. de Blacas moved suddenly towards the baron, but the fright of the courtier pleaded for the forbearance of the statesman; and besides, as matters were, it was much more to his advantage that the prefect of police should triumph over him than that he should humiliate the prefect. "Sire"--stammered the baron. "Well, what is it?" asked Louis XVIII. The minister of police, giving way to an impulse of despair, was about to throw himself at the feet of Louis XVIII., who retreated a step and frowned.

"Will you speak?" he said. "Oh, sire, what a dreadful misfortune! I am, indeed, to be pitied. I can never forgive myself!" "Monsieur," said Louis XVIII., "I command you to speak." "Well, sire, the usurper left Elba on the 26th February, and landed on the 1st of March." "And where? In Italy?" asked the king eagerly. "In France, sire,--at a small port, near Antibes, in the Gulf of Juan." "The usurper landed in France, near Antibes, in the Gulf of Juan, two hundred and fifty leagues from Paris, on the 1st of March, and you only acquired this information to-day, the 4th of March! Well, sir, what you tell me is impossible. You must have received a false report, or you have gone mad." "Alas, sire, it is but too true!" Louis made a gesture of indescribable anger and alarm, and then drew himself up as if this sudden blow had struck him at the same moment in heart and countenance. "In France!" he cried, "the usurper in France! Then they did not watch over this man. Who knows? they were, perhaps, in league with him." "Oh, sire," exclaimed the Duc de Blacas, "M. Dandre is not a man to be accused of treason! Sire, we have all been blind, and the minister of police has shared the general blindness, that is all." "But"--said Villefort, and then suddenly checking himself, he was silent; then he continued, "Your pardon, sire," he said, bowing, "my zeal carried me away. Will your majesty deign to excuse me?" "Speak, sir, speak boldly," replied Louis. "You alone forewarned us of the evil; now try and aid us with the remedy." "Sire," said Villefort, "the usurper is detested in the south; and it seems to me that if he ventured into the south, it would be easy to raise Languedoc and Provence against him." "Yes, assuredly," replied the minister; "but he is advancing by Gap and Sisteron." "Advancing--he is advancing!" said Louis XVIII. "Is he then advancing on Paris?" The minister of police maintained a silence which was equivalent to a complete avowal. "And Dauphine, sir?" inquired the king, of Villefort. "Do you think it possible to rouse that as well as Provence?" "Sire, I am sorry to tell your majesty a cruel fact; but the feeling in Dauphine is quite the reverse of that in Provence or Languedoc. The mountaineers are Bonapartists, sire." "Then," murmured Louis, "he was well informed. And how many men had he with him?"

"I do not know, sire," answered the minister of police. "What, you do not know! Have you neglected to obtain information on that point? Of course it is of no consequence," he added, with a withering smile. "Sire, it was impossible to learn; the despatch simply stated the fact of the landing and the route taken by the usurper." "And how did this despatch reach you?" inquired the king. The minister bowed his head, and while a deep color overspread his cheeks, he stammered out,-"By the telegraph, sire."--Louis XVIII. advanced a step, and folded his arms over his chest as Napoleon would have done. "So then," he exclaimed, turning pale with anger, "seven conjoined and allied armies overthrew that man. A miracle of heaven replaced me on the throne of my fathers after five-and-twenty years of exile. I have, during those five-and-twenty years, spared no pains to understand the people of France and the interests which were confided to me; and now, when I see the fruition of my wishes almost within reach, the power I hold in my hands bursts, and shatters me to atoms!" "Sire, it is fatality!" murmured the minister, feeling that the pressure of circumstances, however light a thing to destiny, was too much for any human strength to endure. "What our enemies say of us is then true. We have learnt nothing, forgotten nothing! If I were betrayed as he was, I would console myself; but to be in the midst of persons elevated by myself to places of honor, who ought to watch over me more carefully than over themselves,--for my fortune is theirs--before me they were nothing--after me they will be nothing, and perish miserably from incapacity--ineptitude! Oh, yes, sir, you are right--it is fatality!" The minister quailed before this outburst of sarcasm. M. de Blacas wiped the moisture from his brow. Villefort smiled within himself, for he felt his increased importance. "To fall," continued King Louis, who at the first glance had sounded the abyss on which the monarchy hung suspended,--"to fall, and learn of that fall by telegraph! Oh, I would rather mount the scaffold of my brother, Louis XVI., than thus descend the staircase at the Tuileries driven away by ridicule. Ridicule, sir--why, you know not its power in France, and yet you ought to know it!" "Sire, sire," murmured the minister, "for pity's"-"Approach, M. de Villefort," resumed the king, addressing the young man, who, motionless and breathless, was listening to a conversation on which depended the destiny of a kingdom. "Approach, and tell monsieur that it is possible to know beforehand all that he has not known." "Sire, it was really impossible to learn secrets which that man concealed from all the world." "Really impossible! Yes--that is a great word, sir. Unfortunately, there are great words, as there are great men; I have measured them. Really impossible for a minister who has an office, agents, spies, and fifteen

hundred thousand francs for secret service money, to know what is going on at sixty leagues from the coast of France! Well, then, see, here is a gentleman who had none of these resources at his disposal--a gentleman, only a simple magistrate, who learned more than you with all your police, and who would have saved my crown, if, like you, he had the power of directing a telegraph." The look of the minister of police was turned with concentrated spite on Villefort, who bent his head in modest triumph. "I do not mean that for you, Blacas," continued Louis XVIII.; "for if you have discovered nothing, at least you have had the good sense to persevere in your suspicions. Any other than yourself would have considered the disclosure of M. de Villefort insignificant, or else dictated by venal ambition," These words were an allusion to the sentiments which the minister of police had uttered with so much confidence an hour before. Villefort understood the king's intent. Any other person would, perhaps, have been overcome by such an intoxicating draught of praise; but he feared to make for himself a mortal enemy of the police minister, although he saw that Dandre was irrevocably lost. In fact, the minister, who, in the plenitude of his power, had been unable to unearth Napoleon's secret, might in despair at his own downfall interrogate Dantes and so lay bare the motives of Villefort's plot. Realizing this, Villefort came to the rescue of the crest-fallen minister, instead of aiding to crush him. "Sire," said Villefort, "the suddenness of this event must prove to your majesty that the issue is in the hands of Providence; what your majesty is pleased to attribute to me as profound perspicacity is simply owing to chance, and I have profited by that chance, like a good and devoted servant--that's all. Do not attribute to me more than I deserve, sire, that your majesty may never have occasion to recall the first opinion you have been pleased to form of me." The minister of police thanked the young man by an eloquent look, and Villefort understood that he had succeeded in his design; that is to say, that without forfeiting the gratitude of the king, he had made a friend of one on whom, in case of necessity, he might rely. "'Tis well," resumed the king. "And now, gentlemen," he continued, turning towards M. de Blacas and the minister of police, "I have no further occasion for you, and you may retire; what now remains to do is in the department of the minister of war." "Fortunately, sire," said M. de Blacas, "we can rely on the army; your majesty knows how every report confirms their loyalty and attachment." "Do not mention reports, duke, to me, for I know now what confidence to place in them. Yet, speaking of reports, baron, what have you learned with regard to the affair in the Rue Saint-Jacques?" "The affair in the Rue Saint-Jacques!" exclaimed Villefort, unable to repress an exclamation. Then, suddenly pausing, he added, "Your pardon, sire, but my devotion to your majesty has made me forget, not the respect I have, for that is too deeply engraved in my heart, but the rules of etiquette." "Go on, go on, sir," replied the king; "you have to-day earned the right to make inquiries here."

"Sire," interposed the minister of police, "I came a moment ago to give your majesty fresh information which I had obtained on this head, when your majesty's attention was attracted by the terrible event that has occurred in the gulf, and now these facts will cease to interest your majesty." "On the contrary, sir,--on the contrary," said Louis XVIII., "this affair seems to me to have a decided connection with that which occupies our attention, and the death of General Quesnel will, perhaps, put us on the direct track of a great internal conspiracy." At the name of General Quesnel, Villefort trembled. "Everything points to the conclusion, sire," said the minister of police, "that death was not the result of suicide, as we first believed, but of assassination. General Quesnel, it appears, had just left a Bonapartist club when he disappeared. An unknown person had been with him that morning, and made an appointment with him in the Rue Saint-Jacques; unfortunately, the general's valet, who was dressing his hair at the moment when the stranger entered, heard the street mentioned, but did not catch the number." As the police minister related this to the king, Villefort, who looked as if his very life hung on the speaker's lips, turned alternately red and pale. The king looked towards him. "Do you not think with me, M. de Villefort, that General Quesnel, whom they believed attached to the usurper, but who was really entirely devoted to me, has perished the victim of a Bonapartist ambush?" "It is probable, sire," replied Villefort. "But is this all that is known?" "They are on the track of the man who appointed the meeting with him." "On his track?" said Villefort. "Yes, the servant has given his description. He is a man of from fifty to fifty-two years of age, dark, with black eyes covered with shaggy eyebrows, and a thick mustache. He was dressed in a blue frock-coat, buttoned up to the chin, and wore at his button-hole the rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor. Yesterday a person exactly corresponding with this description was followed, but he was lost sight of at the corner of the Rue de la Jussienne and the Rue Coq-Heron." Villefort leaned on the back of an arm-chair, for as the minister of police went on speaking he felt his legs bend under him; but when he learned that the unknown had escaped the vigilance of the agent who followed him, he breathed again. "Continue to seek for this man, sir," said the king to the minister of police; "for if, as I am all but convinced, General Quesnel, who would have been so useful to us at this moment, has been murdered, his assassins, Bonapartists or not, shall be cruelly punished." It required all Villefort's coolness not to betray the terror with which this declaration of the king inspired him. "How strange," continued the king, with some asperity; "the police think that they have disposed of the whole matter when they say, 'A murder has been committed,' and especially so when they can add, 'And we are on the track of the guilty persons.'" "Sire, your majesty will, I trust, be amply satisfied on this point at

least." "We shall see. I will no longer detain you, M. de Villefort, for you must be fatigued after so long a journey; go and rest. Of course you stopped at your father's?" A feeling of faintness came over Villefort. "No, sire," he replied, "I alighted at the Hotel de Madrid, in the Rue de Tournon." "But you have seen him?" "Sire, I went straight to the Duc de Blacas." "But you will see him, then?" "I think not, sire." "Ah, I forgot," said Louis, smiling in a manner which proved that all these questions were not made without a motive; "I forgot you and M. Noirtier are not on the best terms possible, and that is another sacrifice made to the royal cause, and for which you should be recompensed." "Sire, 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." "Never mind, sir, we will not forget you; make your mind easy. In the meanwhile" (the king here detached the cross of the Legion of Honor which he usually wore over his blue coat, near the cross of St. Louis, above the order of Notre-Dame-du-Mont-Carmel and St. Lazare, and gave it to Villefort)--"in the meanwhile take this cross." "Sire," said Villefort, "your majesty mistakes; this is an officer's cross." "Ma foi," said Louis XVIII., "take it, such as it is, for I have not the time to procure you another. Blacas, let it be your care to see that the brevet is made out and sent to M. de Villefort." Villefort's eyes were filled with tears of joy and pride; he took the cross and kissed it. "And now," he said, "may I inquire what are the orders with which your majesty deigns to honor me?" "Take what rest you require, and remember that if you are not able to serve me here in Paris, you may be of the greatest service to me at Marseilles." "Sire," replied Villefort, bowing, "in an hour I shall have quitted Paris." "Go, sir," said the king; "and should I forget you (kings' memories are short), do not be afraid to bring yourself to my recollection. Baron, send for the minister of war. Blacas, remain." "Ah, sir," said the minister of police to Villefort, as they left the Tuileries, "you entered by luck's door--your fortune is made." "Will it be long first?" muttered Villefort, saluting the minister, whose career was ended, and looking about him for a hackney-coach.

One passed at the moment, which he hailed; he gave his address to the driver, and springing in, threw himself on the seat, and gave loose to dreams of ambition. Ten minutes afterwards Villefort reached his hotel, ordered horses to be ready in two hours, and asked to have his breakfast brought to him. He was about to begin his repast when the sound of the bell rang sharp and loud. The valet opened the door, and Villefort heard some one speak his name. "Who could know that I was here already?" said the young man. The valet entered. "Well," said Villefort, "what is it?--Who rang?--Who asked for me?" "A stranger who will not send in his name." "A stranger who will not send in his name! What can he want with me?" "He wishes to speak to you." "To me?" "Yes." "Did he mention my name?" "Yes." "What sort of person is he?" "Why, sir, a man of about fifty." "Short or tall?" "About your own height, sir." "Dark or fair?" "Dark,--very dark; with black eyes, black hair, black eyebrows." "And how dressed?" asked Villefort quickly. "In a blue frock-coat, buttoned up close, decorated with the Legion of Honor." "It is he!" said Villefort, turning pale. "Eh, pardieu," said the individual whose description we have twice given, entering the door, "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, "then I was not deceived; I felt sure it must be you." "Well, then, if you felt so sure," replied the new-comer, putting his cane in a corner and his hat on a chair, "allow me to say, my dear Gerard, that it was not very filial of you to keep me waiting at the door."

"Leave us, Germain," said Villefort. The servant quitted the apartment with evident signs of astonishment.

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

"Why, they induced General Quesnel to go there, and General Quesnel, who quitted his own house at nine o'clock in the evening, was found the next day in the Seine." "And who told you this fine story?" "The king himself." "Well, then, in return for your story," continued Noirtier, "I will tell you another."

"My dear father, I think I already know what you are about to tell me." "Ah, you have heard of the landing of the emperor?" "Not so loud, father, I entreat of you--for your own sake as well as mine. Yes, I heard this news, and knew it even before you could; for three days ago I posted from Marseilles to Paris with all possible speed, half-desperate at the enforced delay." "Three days ago? You are crazy. Why, three days ago the emperor had not landed." "No matter, I was aware of his intention." "How did you know about it?" "By a letter addressed to you from the Island of Elba." "To me?" "To you; and which I discovered in the pocket-book of the messenger. Had that letter fallen into the hands of another, you, my dear father, would probably ere this have been shot." Villefort's father laughed. "Come, come," said he, "will the Restoration adopt imperial methods so promptly? Shot, 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." "I burnt it, for fear that even a fragment should remain; for that letter must have led to your condemnation." "And the destruction of your future prospects," replied Noirtier; "yes, I can easily comprehend that. But I have nothing to fear while I have you to protect me." "I do better than that, sir--I save you." "You do? Why, really, the thing becomes more and more dramatic--explain yourself." "I must refer again to the club in the Rue Saint-Jacques." "It appears that this club is rather a bore to the police. Why didn't they search more vigilantly? they would have found"-"They have not found; but they are on the track." "Yes, that the usual phrase; I am quite familiar with it. When the police is at fault, it declares that it is on the track; and the government patiently awaits the day when it comes to say, with a sneaking air, that the track is lost." "Yes, but they have found a corpse; the general has been killed, and in all countries they call that a murder." "A murder do you call it? why, there is nothing to prove that the general was murdered. People are found every day in the Seine, having thrown themselves in, or having been drowned from not knowing how to swim."

"Father, you know very well that the general was not a man to drown himself in despair, and people do not bathe in the Seine in the month of January. No, no, do not be deceived; this was murder in every sense of the word." "And who thus designated it?" "The king himself." "The king! I thought he was philosopher enough to allow that there was no murder in politics. In politics, my dear fellow, you know, as well as I do, there are no men, but ideas--no feelings, but interests; in politics we do not kill a man, we only remove an obstacle, that is all. Would you like to know how matters have progressed? Well, I will tell you. It was thought reliance might be placed in General Quesnel; he was recommended to us from the Island of Elba; one of us went to him, and invited him to the Rue Saint-Jacques, where he would find some friends. He came there, and the plan was unfolded to him for leaving Elba, the projected landing, etc. When he had heard and comprehended all to the fullest extent, he replied that he was a royalist. Then all looked at each other,--he was made to take an oath, and did so, but with such an ill grace that it was really tempting Providence to swear him, and yet, in spite of that, the general was allowed to depart free--perfectly free. Yet he did not return home. What could that mean? why, my dear fellow, that on leaving us he lost his way, that's all. A murder? really, Villefort, you surprise me. You, a deputy procureur, to found an accusation on such bad premises! Did I ever say to you, when you were fulfilling your character as a royalist, and cut off the head of one of my party, 'My son, you have committed a murder?' No, I said, 'Very well, sir, you have gained the victory; to-morrow, perchance, it will be our turn.'" "But, father, take care; when our turn comes, our revenge will be sweeping." "I do not understand you." "You rely on the usurper's return?" "We do." "You are mistaken; he will not advance two leagues into the interior of France without being followed, tracked, and caught like a wild beast." "My dear fellow, the emperor is at this moment on the way to Grenoble; on the 10th or 12th he will be at Lyons, and on the 20th or 25th at Paris." "The people will rise." "Yes, to go and meet him." "He has but a handful of men with him, and armies will be despatched against him." "Yes, to escort him into the capital. Really, my dear Gerard, you are but a child; you think yourself well informed because the telegraph has told you, three days after the landing, 'The usurper has landed at Cannes with several men. He is pursued.' But where is he? what is he

doing? You do not know at all, and in this way they will chase him to Paris, without drawing a trigger." "Grenoble and Lyons are faithful cities, and will oppose to him an impassable barrier." "Grenoble will open her gates to him with enthusiasm--all Lyons will hasten to welcome him. Believe me, we are as well informed as you, and our police are as good as your own. Would you like a proof of it? well, you wished to conceal your journey from me, and yet I knew of your arrival half an hour after you had passed the barrier. You gave your direction to no one but your postilion, yet I have your address, and in proof I am here the very instant you are going to sit at table. Ring, then, if you please, for a second knife, fork, and plate, and we will dine together." "Indeed!" replied Villefort, looking at his father with astonishment, "you really do seem very well informed." "Eh? the thing is simple enough. You who are in power have only the means that money produces--we who are in expectation, have those which devotion prompts." "Devotion!" said Villefort, with a sneer. "Yes, devotion; for that is, I believe, the phrase for hopeful ambition." And Villefort's father extended his hand to the bell-rope, to summon the servant whom his son had not called. Villefort caught his arm. "Wait, my dear father," said the young man, "one word more." "Say on." "However stupid the royalist police may be, they do know one terrible thing." "What is that?" "The description of the man who, on the morning of the day when General Quesnel disappeared, presented himself at his house." "Oh, the admirable police have found that out, have they? And what may be that description?" "Dark complexion; hair, eyebrows, and whiskers, black; blue frock-coat, buttoned up to the chin; rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor in his button-hole; a hat with wide brim, and a cane." "Ah, ha, that's it, is it?" said Noirtier; "and why, then, have they not laid hands on him?" "Because yesterday, or the day before, they lost sight of him at the corner of the Rue Coq-Heron." "Didn't I say that your police were good for nothing?" "Yes; but they may catch him yet."

"True," said Noirtier, looking carelessly around him, "true, if this person were not on his guard, as he is;" and he added with a smile, "He will consequently make a few changes in his personal appearance." At these words he rose, and put off his frock-coat and cravat, went towards a table on which lay his son's toilet articles, lathered his face, took a razor, and, with a firm hand, cut off the compromising whiskers. Villefort watched him with alarm not devoid of admiration. His whiskers cut off, Noirtier gave another turn to his hair; took, instead of his black cravat, a colored neckerchief which lay at the top of an open portmanteau; put on, in lieu of his blue and high-buttoned frock-coat, a coat of Villefort's of dark brown, and cut away in front; tried on before the glass a narrow-brimmed hat of his son's, which appeared to fit him perfectly, and, leaving his cane in the corner where he had deposited it, he took up a small bamboo switch, cut the air with it once or twice, and walked about with that easy swagger which was one of his principal characteristics. "Well," he said, turning towards his wondering son, when this disguise was completed, "well, do you think your police will recognize me now." "No, father," stammered Villefort; "at least, I hope not." "And now, my dear boy," continued Noirtier, "I rely on your prudence to remove all the things which I leave in your care." "Oh, rely on me," said Villefort. "Yes, yes; and now I believe you are right, and that you have really saved my life; be assured I will return the favor hereafter." Villefort shook his head. "You are not convinced yet?" "I hope at least, that you may be mistaken." "Shall you see the king again?" "Perhaps." "Would you pass in his eyes for a prophet?" "Prophets of evil are not in favor at the court, father." "True, but some day they do them justice; and supposing a second restoration, you would then pass for a great man." "Well, what should I say to the king?" "Say this to him: 'Sire, you are deceived as to the feeling in France, as to the opinions of the towns, and the prejudices of the army; he whom in Paris you call the Corsican ogre, who at Nevers is styled the usurper, is already saluted as Bonaparte at Lyons, and emperor at Grenoble. You think he is tracked, pursued, captured; he is advancing as rapidly as his own eagles. The soldiers you believe to be dying with hunger, worn out with fatigue, ready to desert, gather like atoms of snow about the rolling ball as it hastens onward. Sire, go, leave France to its real master, to him who acquired it, not by purchase, but by right of conquest; go, sire, not that you incur any risk, for your adversary is powerful enough to show you mercy, but because it would be

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

Chapter 13. The Hundred Days. M. Noirtier was a true prophet, and things progressed rapidly, as he had predicted. Every one knows the history of the famous return from Elba, a return which was unprecedented in the past, and will probably remain without a counterpart in the future. Louis XVIII. made but a faint attempt to parry this unexpected blow; the monarchy he had scarcely reconstructed tottered on its precarious foundation, and at a sign from the emperor the incongruous structure of ancient prejudices and new ideas fell to the ground. Villefort, therefore, 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, which he had the prudence not to wear, although M. de Blacas had duly forwarded the brevet. Napoleon would, doubtless, have deprived Villefort of his office had it not been for Noirtier, who was all powerful at court, and thus the Girondin of '93 and the Senator of 1806 protected him who so lately had been his protector. All Villefort's influence barely enabled him to stifle the secret Dantes had so nearly divulged. The king's procureur alone was deprived of his office, being suspected of royalism. However, scarcely was the imperial power established--that is, scarcely had the emperor re-entered the Tuileries and begun to issue orders from the closet into which we have introduced our readers,--he found on the

table there Louis XVIII.'s half-filled snuff-box,--scarcely had this occurred when Marseilles began, in spite of the authorities, to rekindle the flames of civil war, always smouldering in the south, 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. Owing to this change, the worthy shipowner became at that moment--we will not say all powerful, because Morrel was a prudent and rather a timid man, so much so, that many of the most zealous partisans of Bonaparte accused him of "moderation"--but sufficiently influential to make a demand in favor of Dantes. Villefort retained his place, but his marriage was put off until a more favorable opportunity. If the emperor remained on the throne, Gerard required a different alliance to aid his career; if Louis XVIII. returned, the influence of M. de Saint-Meran, like his own, could be vastly increased, and the marriage be still more suitable. The deputy-procureur was, therefore, the first magistrate of Marseilles, when one morning his door opened, and M. Morrel was announced. Any one else would have hastened to receive him; but Villefort was a man of ability, and he knew this would be a sign of weakness. He made Morrel wait in the ante-chamber, although he had no one with him, for the simple reason that the king's procureur always makes every one wait, and after passing a quarter of an hour in reading the papers, he ordered M. Morrel to be admitted. Morrel expected Villefort would be dejected; he found him as he had found him six weeks before, calm, firm, and full of that glacial politeness, that most insurmountable barrier which separates the well-bred from the vulgar man. He had entered Villefort's office expecting that the magistrate would tremble at the sight of him; on the contrary, he felt a cold shudder all over him when he saw Villefort sitting there with his elbow on his desk, and his head leaning on his hand. He stopped at the door; Villefort gazed at him as if he had some difficulty in recognizing him; then, after a brief interval, during which the honest shipowner turned his hat in his hands,-"M. Morrel, I believe?" said Villefort. "Yes, sir." "Come nearer," said the magistrate, with a patronizing wave of the hand, "and tell me to what circumstance I owe the honor of this visit." "Do you not guess, monsieur?" asked Morrel. "Not in the least; but if I can serve you in any way I shall be delighted." "Everything depends on you." "Explain yourself, pray." "Monsieur," said Morrel, recovering his assurance as he proceeded, "do you recollect that a few days before the landing of his majesty the emperor, I came to intercede for a young man, the mate of my ship, 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. You then served Louis XVIII., and you did not show any favor--it was your duty; to-day you serve Napoleon, and you ought to protect him--it is equally your duty; I come, therefore, to ask what has become of him?" Villefort by a strong effort sought to control himself. "What is his name?" said he. "Tell me his name." "Edmond Dantes." Villefort would probably have rather stood opposite the muzzle of a pistol at five-and-twenty paces than have heard this name spoken; but he did not blanch. "Dantes," repeated he, "Edmond Dantes." "Yes, monsieur." Villefort opened a large register, then went to a table, from the table turned to his registers, and then, turning to Morrel,-"Are you quite sure you are not mistaken, monsieur?" said he, in the most natural tone in the world. Had Morrel been a more quick-sighted man, or better versed in these matters, he would have been surprised at the king's procureur answering him on such a subject, instead of referring him to the governors of the prison or the prefect of the department. But Morrel, disappointed in his expectations of exciting fear, was conscious only of the other's condescension. Villefort had calculated rightly. "No," said Morrel; "I am not mistaken. I have known him for ten years, the last four of which he was in my service. Do not you recollect, I came about six weeks ago to plead for clemency, as I come to-day to plead for justice. You received me very coldly. Oh, the royalists were very severe with the Bonapartists in those days." "Monsieur," returned Villefort, "I was then a royalist, because I believed the Bourbons not only the heirs to the throne, but the chosen of the nation. The miraculous return of Napoleon has conquered me, the legitimate monarch is he who is loved by his people." "That's right!" cried Morrel. "I like to hear you speak thus, and I augur well for Edmond from it." "Wait a moment," said Villefort, turning over the leaves of a register; "I have it--a sailor, who was about to marry a young Catalan girl. I recollect now; it was a very serious charge." "How so?" "You know that when he left here he was taken to the Palais de Justice." "Well?" "I made my report to the authorities at Paris, and a week after he was carried off." "Carried off!" said Morrel. "What can they have done with him?"

"Oh, he has been taken to Fenestrelles, to Pignerol, or to the Sainte-Marguerite islands. Some fine morning he will return to take command of your vessel." "Come when he will, it shall be kept for him. 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." "Do not be too hasty, M. Morrel," replied Villefort. "The order of imprisonment came from high authority, and the order for his liberation must proceed from the same source; and, as Napoleon has scarcely been reinstated a fortnight, the letters have not yet been forwarded." "But," said Morrel, "is there no way of expediting all these formalities--of releasing him from arrest?" "There has been no arrest." "How?" "It is sometimes essential to government to cause a man's disappearance without leaving any traces, so that no written forms or documents may defeat their wishes." "It might be so under the Bourbons, but at present"-"It has always The emperor is and the number incalculable." have dispelled been so, my dear Morrel, since the reign of Louis XIV. more strict in prison discipline than even Louis himself, of prisoners whose names are not on the register is Had Morrel even any suspicions, so much kindness would them.

"Well, M. de Villefort, how would you advise me to act?" asked he. "Petition the minister." "Oh, I know what that is; the minister receives two hundred petitions every day, and does not read three." "That is true; but he will read a petition countersigned and presented by me." "And will you undertake to deliver it?" "With the greatest pleasure. Dantes was then guilty, and now he is innocent, and it is as much my duty to free him as it was to condemn him." Villefort thus forestalled any danger of an inquiry, which, however improbable it might be, if it did take place would leave him defenceless. "But how shall I address the minister?" "Sit down there," said Villefort, giving up his place to Morrel, "and write what I dictate." "Will you be so good?" "Certainly. But lose no time; we have lost too much already." "That is true. Only think what the poor fellow may even now be

suffering." Villefort shuddered at the suggestion; but he had gone too far to draw back. Dantes must be crushed to gratify Villefort's ambition. Villefort dictated a petition, in which, from an excellent doubt, Dantes' patriotic services were exaggerated, and he one of the most active agents of Napoleon's return. It was at the sight of this document the minister would instantly The petition finished, Villefort read it aloud. "That will do," said he; "leave the rest to me." "Will the petition go soon?" "To-day." "Countersigned by you?" "The best thing I can do will be to certify the truth of the contents of your petition." And, sitting down, Villefort wrote the certificate at the bottom. "What more is to be done?" "I will do whatever is necessary." This assurance delighted Morrel, who took leave of Villefort, and hastened to announce to old Dantes that he would soon see his son. As for Villefort, instead of sending to Paris, he carefully preserved the petition that so fearfully compromised Dantes, in the hopes of an event that seemed not unlikely,--that is, a second restoration. Dantes remained a prisoner, and heard not the noise of the fall of Louis XVIII.'s throne, or the still more tragic destruction of the empire. Twice during the Hundred Days had Morrel renewed his demand, and twice had Villefort soothed him with promises. At last there was Waterloo, and Morrel came no more; he had done all that was in his power, and any fresh attempt would only compromise himself uselessly. Louis XVIII. remounted the throne; Villefort, to whom Marseilles had become filled with remorseful memories, sought and obtained the situation of king's procureur at Toulouse, and a fortnight afterwards he married Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran, whose father now stood higher at court than ever. And so Dantes, after the Hundred Days and after Waterloo, remained in his dungeon, forgotten of earth and heaven. Danglars comprehended the full extent of the wretched fate that overwhelmed Dantes; and, when Napoleon returned to France, he, after the manner of mediocre minds, termed the coincidence, "a decree of Providence." But when Napoleon returned to Paris, Danglars' heart failed him, and he lived in constant fear of Dantes' return on a mission of vengeance. He therefore informed M. Morrel of his wish to quit the sea, and obtained a recommendation from him to a Spanish merchant, into whose service he entered at the end of March, that is, ten or twelve days after Napoleon's return. He then left for Madrid, and was no more heard of. Fernand understood nothing except that Dantes was absent. What had become of him he cared not to inquire. Only, during the respite the absence of his rival afforded him, he reflected, partly on the means of intention, no was made out evident that release him.

deceiving Mercedes as to the cause of his absence, partly on plans of emigration and abduction, as from time to time he sat sad and motionless on the summit of Cape Pharo, at the spot from whence Marseilles and the Catalans are visible, watching for the apparition of a young and handsome man, who was for him also the messenger of vengeance. Fernand's mind was made up; he would shoot Dantes, and then kill himself. But Fernand was mistaken; a man of his disposition never kills himself, for he constantly hopes. During this time the empire made its last conscription, and every man in France capable of bearing arms rushed to obey the summons of the emperor. Fernand departed with the rest, bearing with him the terrible thought that while he was away, his rival would perhaps return and marry Mercedes. Had Fernand really meant to kill himself, he would have done so when he parted from Mercedes. His devotion, and the compassion he showed for her misfortunes, produced the effect they always produce on noble minds--Mercedes had always had a sincere regard for Fernand, and this was now strengthened by gratitude. "My brother," said she as she placed his knapsack on his shoulders, "be careful of yourself, for if you are killed, I shall be alone in the world." These words carried a ray of hope into Fernand's heart. Should Dantes not return, Mercedes might one day be his. Mercedes was left alone face to face with the vast plain that had never seemed so barren, and the sea that had never seemed so vast. Bathed in tears she wandered about the Catalan village. Sometimes she stood mute and motionless as a statue, looking towards Marseilles, at other times gazing on the sea, and debating as to whether it were not better to cast herself into the abyss of the ocean, and thus end her woes. It was not want of courage that prevented her putting this resolution into execution; but her religious feelings came to her aid and saved her. Caderousse was, like Fernand, enrolled in the army, but, being married and eight years older, he was merely sent to the frontier. Old Dantes, who was only sustained by hope, lost all hope at Napoleon's downfall. Five months after he had been separated from his son, and almost at the hour of his arrest, he breathed his last in Mercedes' arms. M. Morrel paid the expenses of his funeral, and a few small debts the poor old man had contracted. There was more than benevolence in this action; there was courage; the south was aflame, and to assist, even on his death-bed, the father of so dangerous a Bonapartist as Dantes, was stigmatized as a crime.

Chapter 14. The Two Prisoners. A year after Louis XVIII.'s restoration, a visit was made by the inspector-general of prisons. Dantes in his cell heard the noise of preparation,--sounds that at the depth where he lay would have been inaudible to any but the ear of a prisoner, who could hear the splash of the drop of water that every hour fell from the roof of his dungeon. He guessed something uncommon was passing among the living; but he had so long ceased to have any intercourse with the world, that he looked upon himself as dead. The inspector visited, one after another, the cells and dungeons of several of the prisoners, whose good behavior or stupidity recommended them to the clemency of the government. He inquired how they were fed,

and if they had any request to make. The universal response was, that the fare was detestable, and that they wanted to be set free. The inspector asked if they had anything else to ask for. They shook their heads. What could they desire beyond their liberty? The inspector turned smilingly to the governor. "I do not know what reason government can assign for these useless visits; when you see one prisoner, you see all,--always the same thing,--ill fed and innocent. Are there any others?" "Yes; the dangerous and mad prisoners are in the dungeons." "Let us visit them," said the inspector with an air of fatigue. "We must play the farce to the end. Let us see the dungeons." "Let us first send for two soldiers," said the governor. "The prisoners sometimes, through mere uneasiness of life, and in order to be sentenced to death, commit acts of useless violence, and you might fall a victim." "Take all needful precautions," replied the inspector. Two soldiers were accordingly sent for, and the inspector descended a stairway, so foul, so humid, so dark, as to be loathsome to sight, smell, and respiration. "Oh," cried the inspector, "who can live here?" "A most dangerous conspirator, a man we are ordered to keep the most strict watch over, as he is daring and resolute." "He is alone?" "Certainly." "How long has he been there?" "Nearly a year." "Was he placed here when he first arrived?" "No; not until he attempted to kill the turnkey, who took his food to him." "To kill the turnkey?" "Yes, the very one who is lighting us. Is it not true, Antoine?" asked the governor. "True enough; he wanted to kill me!" returned the turnkey. "He must be mad," said the inspector. "He is worse than that,--he is a devil!" returned the turnkey. "Shall I complain of him?" demanded the inspector. "Oh, no; it is useless. Besides, he is almost mad now, and in another year he will be quite so."

"So much the better for him,--he will suffer less," said the inspector. He was, as this remark shows, a man full of philanthropy, and in every way fit for his office. "You are right, sir," replied the governor; "and this remark proves that you have deeply considered the subject. Now we have in a dungeon about twenty feet distant, and to which you descend by another stair, an abbe, formerly leader of a party in Italy, who has been here since 1811, and in 1813 he went mad, and the change is astonishing. He used to weep, he now laughs; he grew thin, he now grows fat. You had better see him, for his madness is amusing." "I will see them both," returned the inspector; "I must conscientiously perform my duty." This was the inspector's first visit; he wished to display his authority. "Let us visit this one first," added he. "By all means," replied the governor, and he signed to the turnkey to open the door. At the sound of the key turning in the lock, and the creaking of the hinges, Dantes, who was crouched in a corner of the dungeon, whence he could see the ray of light that came through a narrow iron grating above, raised his head. Seeing a stranger, escorted by two turnkeys holding torches and accompanied by two soldiers, and to whom the governor spoke bareheaded, Dantes, who guessed the truth, and that the moment to address himself to the superior authorities was come, sprang forward with clasped hands. The soldiers interposed their bayonets, for they thought that he was about to attack the inspector, and the latter recoiled two or three steps. Dantes saw that he was looked upon as dangerous. Then, infusing all the humility he possessed into his eyes and voice, he addressed the inspector, and sought to inspire him with pity. The inspector listened attentively; then, turning to the governor, observed, "He will become religious--he is already more gentle; he is afraid, and retreated before the bayonets--madmen are not afraid of anything; I made some curious observations on this at Charenton." Then, turning to the prisoner, "What is it you want?" said he. "I want to know what crime I have committed--to be tried; and if I am guilty, to be shot; if innocent, to be set at liberty." "Are you well fed?" said the inspector. "I believe so; I don't know; it's of no consequence. What matters really, not only to me, but to officers of justice and the king, is that an innocent man should languish in prison, the victim of an infamous denunciation, to die here cursing his executioners." "You are very humble to-day," remarked the governor; "you are not so always; the other day, for instance, when you tried to kill the turnkey." "It is true, sir, and I beg his pardon, for he his always been very good to me, but I was mad." "And you are not so any longer?" "No; captivity has subdued me--I have been here so long."

"So long?--when were you arrested, then?" asked the inspector. "The 28th of February, 1815, at half-past two in the afternoon." "To-day is the 30th of July, 1816,--why it is but seventeen months." "Only seventeen months," replied Dantes. "Oh, you do not know what is seventeen months in prison!--seventeen ages rather, especially to a man who, like me, had arrived at the summit of his ambition--to a man, who, like me, was on the point of marrying a woman he adored, who saw an honorable career opened before him, and who loses all in an instant--who sees his prospects destroyed, and is ignorant of the fate of his affianced wife, and whether his aged father be still living! Seventeen months captivity to a sailor accustomed to the boundless ocean, is a worse punishment than human crime ever merited. Have pity on me, then, and ask for me, not intelligence, but a trial; not pardon, but a verdict--a trial, sir, I ask only for a trial; that, surely, cannot be denied to one who is accused!" "We shall see," said the inspector; then, turning to the governor, "On my word, the poor devil touches me. You must show me the proofs against him." "Certainly; but you will find terrible charges." "Monsieur," continued Dantes, "I know it is not in your power to release me; but you can plead for me--you can have me tried--and that is all I ask. Let me know my crime, and the reason why I was condemned. Uncertainty is worse than all." "Go on with the lights," said the inspector. "Monsieur," cried Dantes, "I can tell by your voice you are touched with pity; tell me at least to hope." "I cannot tell you that," replied the inspector; "I can only promise to examine into your case." "Oh, I am free--then I am saved!" "Who arrested you?" "M. Villefort. See him, and hear what he says." "M. Villefort is no longer at Marseilles; he is now at Toulouse." "I am no longer surprised at my detention," murmured Dantes, "since my only protector is removed." "Had M. de Villefort any cause of personal dislike to you?" "None; on the contrary, he was very kind to me." "I can, then, rely on the notes he has left concerning you?" "Entirely." "That is well; wait patiently, then." Dantes fell on his knees, and prayed earnestly. The door closed; but this time a fresh inmate was left

with Dantes--hope. "Will you see the register at once," asked the governor, "or proceed to the other cell?" "Let us visit them all," said the inspector. "If I once went up those stairs. I should never have the courage to come down again." "Ah, this one is not like the other, and his madness is less affecting than this one's display of reason." "What is his folly?" "He fancies he possesses an immense treasure. The first year he offered government a million of francs for his release; the second, two; the third, three; and so on progressively. He is now in his fifth year of captivity; he will ask to speak to you in private, and offer you five millions." "How curious!--what is his name?" "The Abbe Faria." "No. 27," said the inspector. "It is here; unlock the door, Antoine." The turnkey obeyed, and the inspector gazed curiously into the chamber of the "mad abbe." In the centre of the cell, in a circle traced with a fragment of plaster detached from the wall, sat a man whose tattered garments scarcely covered him. He was drawing in this circle geometrical lines, and seemed as much absorbed in his problem as Archimedes was when the soldier of Marcellus slew him. He did not move at the sound of the door, and continued his calculations until the flash of the torches lighted up with an unwonted glare the sombre walls of his cell; then, raising his head, he perceived with astonishment the number of persons present. He hastily seized the coverlet of his bed, and wrapped it round him. "What is it you want?" said the inspector. "I, monsieur," replied the abbe with an air of surprise--"I want nothing." "You do not understand," continued the inspector; "I am sent here by government to visit the prison, and hear the requests of the prisoners." "Oh, that is different," cried the abbe; "and we shall understand each other, I hope." "There, now," whispered the governor, "it is just as I told you." "Monsieur," continued the prisoner, "I am the Abbe Faria, born at Rome. I was for twenty years Cardinal Spada's secretary; I was arrested, why, I know not, toward the beginning of the year 1811; since then I have demanded my liberty from the Italian and French government." "Why from the French government?"

"Because I was arrested at Piombino, and I presume that, like Milan and Florence, Piombino has become the capital of some French department." "Ah," said the inspector, "you have not the latest news from Italy?" "My the his and information dates from the day on which I was arrested," returned Abbe Faria; "and as the emperor had created the kingdom of Rome for infant son, I presume that he has realized the dream of Machiavelli Caesar Borgia, which was to make Italy a united kingdom."

"Monsieur," returned the inspector, "providence has changed this gigantic plan you advocate so warmly." "It is the only means of rendering Italy strong, happy, and independent." "Very possibly; only I am not come to discuss politics, but to inquire if you have anything to ask or to complain of." "The food is the same as in other prisons,--that is, very bad; the lodging is very unhealthful, but, on the whole, passable for a dungeon; but it is not that which I wish to speak of, but a secret I have to reveal of the greatest importance." "We are coming to the point," whispered the governor. "It is for that reason I am delighted to see you," continued the abbe, "although you have disturbed me in a most important calculation, which, if it succeeded, would possibly change Newton's system. Could you allow me a few words in private." "What did I tell you?" said the governor. "You knew him," returned the inspector with a smile. "What you ask is impossible, monsieur," continued he, addressing Faria. "But," said the abbe, "I would speak to you of a large sum, amounting to five millions." "The very sum you named," whispered the inspector in his turn. "However," continued Faria, seeing that the inspector was about to depart, "it is not absolutely necessary for us to be alone; the governor can be present." "Unfortunately," said the governor, "I know beforehand what you are about to say; it concerns your treasures, does it not?" Faria fixed his eyes on him with an expression that would have convinced any one else of his sanity. "Of course," said he; "of what else should I speak?" "Mr. Inspector," continued the governor, "I can tell you the story as well as he, for it has been dinned in my ears for the last four or five years." "That proves," returned the abbe, "that you are like those of Holy Writ, who having ears hear not, and having eyes see not."

"My dear sir, the government is rich and does not want your treasures," replied the inspector; "keep them until you are liberated." The abbe's eyes glistened; he seized the inspector's hand. "But what if I am not liberated," cried he, "and am detained here until my death? this treasure will be lost. Had not government better profit by it? I will offer six millions, and I will content myself with the rest, if they will only give me my liberty." "On my word," said the inspector in a low tone, "had I not been told beforehand that this man was mad, I should believe what he says." "I am not mad," replied Faria, with that acuteness of hearing peculiar to prisoners. "The treasure I speak of really exists, and I offer to sign an agreement with you, in which I promise to lead you to the spot where you shall dig; and if I deceive you, bring me here again,--I ask no more." The governor laughed. "Is the spot far from here?" "A hundred leagues." "It is not ill-planned," said the governor. "If all the prisoners took it into their heads to travel a hundred leagues, and their guardians consented to accompany them, they would have a capital chance of escaping." "The scheme is well known," said the inspector; "and the abbe's plan has not even the merit of originality." Then turning to Faria--"I inquired if you are well fed?" said he. "Swear to me," replied Faria, "to free me if what I tell you prove true, and I will stay here while you go to the spot." "Are you well fed?" repeated the inspector. "Monsieur, you run no risk, for, as I told you, I will stay here; so there is no chance of my escaping." "You do not reply to my question," replied the inspector impatiently. "Nor you to mine," cried the abbe. "You will not accept my gold; I will keep it for myself. You refuse me my liberty; God will give it me." And the abbe, casting away his coverlet, resumed his place, and continued his calculations. "What is he doing there?" said the inspector. "Counting his treasures," replied the governor. Faria replied to this sarcasm with a glance of profound contempt. They went out. The turnkey closed the door behind them. "He was wealthy once, perhaps?" said the inspector. "Or dreamed he was, and awoke mad." "After all," said the inspector, "if he had been rich, he would not have been here." So the matter ended for the Abbe Faria. He remained in his

cell, and this visit only increased the belief in his insanity. Caligula or Nero, those treasure-seekers, those desirers of the impossible, would have accorded to the poor wretch, in exchange for his wealth, the liberty he so earnestly prayed for. But the kings of modern times, restrained by the limits of mere probability, have neither courage nor desire. They fear the ear that hears their orders, and the eye that scrutinizes their actions. Formerly they believed themselves sprung from Jupiter, and shielded by their birth; but nowadays they are not inviolable. It has always been against the policy of despotic governments to suffer the victims of their persecutions to reappear. As the Inquisition rarely allowed its victims to be seen with their limbs distorted and their flesh lacerated by torture, so madness is always concealed in its cell, from whence, should it depart, it is conveyed to some gloomy hospital, where the doctor has no thought for man or mind in the mutilated being the jailer delivers to him. The very madness of the Abbe Faria, gone mad in prison, condemned him to perpetual captivity. The inspector kept his word with Dantes; he examined the register, and found the following note concerning him:-Edmond Dantes: Violent Bonapartist; took an active part in the return from Elba. The greatest watchfulness and care to be exercised. This note was in a different hand from the rest, which showed that it had been added since his confinement. The inspector could not contend against this accusation; he simply wrote,--"Nothing to be done." This visit had infused new vigor into Dantes; he had, till then, forgotten the date; but now, with a fragment of plaster, he wrote the date, 30th July, 1816, and made a mark every day, in order not to lose his reckoning again. Days and weeks passed away, then months--Dantes still waited; he at first expected to be freed in a fortnight. This fortnight expired, he decided that the inspector would do nothing until his return to Paris, and that he would not reach there until his circuit was finished, he therefore fixed three months; three months passed away, then six more. Finally ten months and a half had gone by and no favorable change had taken place, and Dantes began to fancy the inspector's visit but a dream, an illusion of the brain. At the expiration of a year the governor was transferred; he had obtained charge of the fortress at Ham. He took with him several of his subordinates, and amongst them Dantes' jailer. A new governor arrived; it would have been too tedious to acquire the names of the prisoners; he learned their numbers instead. This horrible place contained fifty cells; their inhabitants were designated by the numbers of their cell, and the unhappy young man was no longer called Edmond Dantes--he was now number 34.

Chapter 15. Number 34 and Number 27. Dantes passed through all the stages of torture natural to prisoners in suspense. He was sustained at first by that pride of conscious innocence

which is the sequence to hope; then he began to doubt his own innocence, which justified in some measure the governor's belief in his mental alienation; and then, relaxing his sentiment of pride, he addressed his supplications, not to God, but to man. God is always the last resource. Unfortunates, who ought to begin with God, do not have any hope in him till they have exhausted all other means of deliverance. Dantes asked to be removed from his present dungeon into another; for a change, however disadvantageous, was still a change, and would afford him some amusement. He entreated to be allowed to walk about, to have fresh air, books, and writing materials. His requests were not granted, but he went on asking all the same. He accustomed himself to speaking to the new jailer, although the latter was, if possible, more taciturn than the old one; but still, to speak to a man, even though mute, was something. Dantes spoke for the sake of hearing his own voice; he had tried to speak when alone, but the sound of his voice terrified him. Often, before his captivity, Dantes' mind had revolted at the idea of assemblages of prisoners, made up of thieves, vagabonds, and murderers. He now wished to be amongst them, in order to see some other face besides that of his jailer; he sighed for the galleys, with the infamous costume, the chain, and the brand on the shoulder. The galley-slaves breathed the fresh air of heaven, and saw each other. They were very happy. He besought the jailer one day to let him have a companion, were it even the mad abbe. The jailer, though rough and hardened by the constant sight of so much suffering, was yet a man. At the bottom of his heart he had often had a feeling of pity for this unhappy young man who suffered so; and he laid the request of number 34 before the governor; but the latter sapiently imagined that Dantes wished to conspire or attempt an escape, and refused his request. Dantes had exhausted all human resources, and he then turned to God. All the pious ideas that had been so long forgotten, returned; he recollected the prayers his mother had taught him, and discovered a new meaning in every word; for in prosperity prayers seem but a mere medley of words, 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, and prayed aloud, no longer terrified at the sound of his own voice, for he fell into a sort of ecstasy. He laid every action of his life before the Almighty, proposed tasks to accomplish, 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." Yet in spite of his earnest prayers, Dantes remained a prisoner. Then gloom settled heavily upon him. Dantes was a man of great simplicity of thought, and without education; he could not, therefore, in the solitude of his dungeon, traverse in mental vision the history of the ages, bring to life the nations that had perished, and rebuild the ancient cities so vast and stupendous in the light of the imagination, and that pass before the eye glowing with celestial colors in Martin's Babylonian pictures. He could not do this, he whose past life was so short, whose present so melancholy, and his future so doubtful. Nineteen years of light to reflect upon in eternal darkness! No distraction could come to his aid; his energetic spirit, that would have exalted in thus revisiting the past, was imprisoned like an eagle in a cage. He clung to one idea--that of his happiness, destroyed, without apparent cause, by an unheard-of fatality; he considered and reconsidered this idea, devoured it (so to speak), as the implacable Ugolino devours the skull

of Archbishop Roger in the Inferno of Dante. Rage supplanted religious fervor. Dantes uttered blasphemies that made his jailer recoil with horror, dashed himself furiously against the walls of his prison, wreaked his anger upon everything, and chiefly upon himself, so that the least thing,--a grain of sand, a straw, or a breath of air that annoyed him, led to paroxysms of fury. 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, and not the vengeance of heaven, that had thus plunged him into the deepest misery. He consigned his unknown persecutors to the most horrible tortures he could imagine, and found them all insufficient, because after torture came death, and after death, if not repose, at least the boon of unconsciousness. By dint of constantly dwelling on the idea that tranquillity was death, and if punishment were the end in view other tortures than death must be invented, he began to reflect on suicide. Unhappy he, who, on the brink of misfortune, broods over ideas like these! Before him is a dead sea that stretches in azure calm before the eye; but he who unwarily ventures within its embrace finds himself struggling with a monster that would drag him down to perdition. Once thus ensnared, unless the protecting hand of God snatch him thence, all is over, and his struggles but tend to hasten his destruction. This state of mental anguish is, however, less terrible than the sufferings that precede or the punishment that possibly will follow. There is a sort of consolation at the contemplation of the yawning abyss, at the bottom of which lie darkness and obscurity. Edmond found some solace in these ideas. All his sorrows, all his sufferings, with their train of gloomy spectres, fled from his cell when the angel of death seemed about to enter. Dantes reviewed his past life with composure, and, looking forward with terror to his future existence, chose that middle line that seemed to afford him a refuge. "Sometimes," said he, "in my voyages, when I was a man and commanded other men, I have seen the heavens overcast, the sea rage and foam, the storm arise, and, like a monstrous bird, beating the two horizons with its wings. Then I felt that my vessel was a vain refuge, that trembled and shook before the tempest. Soon the fury of the waves and the sight of the sharp rocks announced the approach of death, and death then terrified me, and I used all my skill and intelligence as a man and a sailor to struggle against the wrath of God. But I did so because I was happy, because I had not courted death, because to be cast upon a bed of rocks and seaweed seemed terrible, because I was unwilling that I, a creature made for the service of God, should serve for food to the gulls and ravens. But now it is different; I have lost all that bound me to life, death smiles and invites me to repose; I die after my own manner, I die exhausted and broken-spirited, as I fall asleep when I have paced three thousand times round my cell." No sooner had this idea taken possession of him than he became more composed, arranged his couch to the best of his power, ate little and slept less, and found existence almost supportable, because he felt that he could throw it off at pleasure, like a worn-out garment. Two methods of self-destruction were at his disposal. He could hang himself with his handkerchief to the window bars, or refuse food and die of starvation. But the first was repugnant to him. Dantes had always entertained the

greatest horror of pirates, who are hung up to the yard-arm; he would not die by what seemed an infamous death. He resolved to adopt the second, and began that day to carry out his resolve. Nearly four years had passed away; at the end of the second he had ceased to mark the lapse of time. Dantes said, "I wish to die," and had chosen the manner of his death, and fearful of changing his mind, he had taken an oath to die. "When my morning and evening meals are brought," thought he, "I will cast them out of the window, and they will think that I have eaten them." He kept his word; twice a day he cast out, through the barred aperture, the provisions his jailer brought him--at first gayly, then with deliberation, and at last with regret. Nothing but the recollection of his oath gave him strength to proceed. Hunger made viands once repugnant, now acceptable; he held the plate in his hand for an hour at a time, and gazed thoughtfully at the morsel of bad meat, of tainted fish, of black and mouldy bread. It was the last yearning for life contending with the resolution of despair; then his dungeon seemed less sombre, his prospects less desperate. He was still young--he was only four or five and twenty--he had nearly fifty years to live. What unforseen events might not open his prison door, and restore him to liberty? Then he raised to his lips the repast that, like a voluntary Tantalus, he refused himself; but he thought of his oath, and he would not break it. He persisted until, at last, he had not sufficient strength to rise and cast his supper out of the loophole. The next morning he could not see or hear; the jailer feared he was dangerously ill. Edmond hoped he was dying. Thus the day passed away. Edmond felt a sort of stupor creeping over him which brought with it a feeling almost of content; the gnawing pain at his stomach had ceased; his thirst had abated; when he closed his eyes he saw myriads of lights dancing before them like the will-o'-the-wisps that play about the marshes. It was the twilight of that mysterious country called Death! Suddenly, about nine o'clock in the evening, Edmond heard a hollow sound in the wall against which he was lying. So many loathsome animals inhabited the prison, that their noise did not, in general, awake him; but whether abstinence had quickened his faculties, or whether the noise was really louder than usual, Edmond raised his head and listened. It was a continual scratching, as if made by a huge claw, a powerful tooth, or some iron instrument attacking the stones. Although weakened, 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, and had sent this noise to warn him on the very brink of the abyss. Perhaps one of those beloved ones he had so often thought of was thinking of him, and striving to diminish the distance that separated them. No, no, doubtless he was deceived, and it was but one of those dreams that forerun death! Edmond still heard the sound. It lasted nearly three hours; he then heard a noise of something falling, and all was silent. Some hours afterwards it began again, nearer and more distinct. Edmond

was intensely interested. Suddenly the jailer entered. For a week since he had resolved to die, and during the four days that he had been carrying out his purpose, Edmond had not spoken to the attendant, had not answered him when he inquired what was the matter with him, and turned his face to the wall when he looked too curiously at him; but now the jailer might hear the noise and put an end to it, and so destroy a ray of something like hope that soothed his last moments. The jailer brought him his breakfast. Dantes raised himself up and began to talk about everything; about the bad quality of the food, about the coldness of his dungeon, grumbling and complaining, in order to have an excuse for speaking louder, and wearying the patience of his jailer, who out of kindness of heart had brought broth and white bread for his prisoner. Fortunately, he fancied that Dantes was delirious; and placing the food on the rickety table, he withdrew. Edmond listened, and the sound became more and more distinct. "There can be no doubt about it," thought he; "it is some prisoner who is striving to obtain his freedom. Oh, if I were only there to help him!" Suddenly another idea took possession of his mind, so used to misfortune, 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. It was easy to ascertain this; but how could he risk the question? It was easy to call his jailer's attention to the noise, and watch his countenance as he listened; but might he not by this means destroy hopes far more important than the short-lived satisfaction of his own curiosity? Unfortunately, Edmond's brain was still so feeble that he could not bend his thoughts to anything in particular. He saw but one means of restoring lucidity and clearness to his judgment. He turned his eyes towards the soup which the jailer had brought, rose, staggered towards it, raised the vessel to his lips, and drank off the contents with a feeling of indescribable pleasure. He had often heard that shipwrecked persons had died through having eagerly devoured too much food. Edmond replaced on the table the bread he was about to devour, and returned to his couch--he did not wish to die. He soon felt that his ideas became again collected--he could think, and strengthen his thoughts by reasoning. Then he said to himself, "I must put this to the test, but without compromising anybody. If it is a workman, I need but knock against the wall, and he will cease to work, in order to find out who is knocking, and why he does so; but as his occupation is sanctioned by the governor, he will soon resume it. If, on the contrary, it is a prisoner, the noise I make will alarm him, he will cease, and not begin again until he thinks every one is asleep." Edmond rose again, but this time his legs did not tremble, and his sight was clear; he went to a corner of his dungeon, detached a stone, and with it knocked against the wall where the sound came. He struck thrice. At the first blow the sound ceased, as if by magic. Edmond listened intently; an hour passed, two hours passed, and no sound was heard from the wall--all was silent there. Full of hope, Edmond swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread and water,

and, thanks to the vigor of his constitution, found himself well-nigh recovered. The day passed away in utter silence--night came without recurrence of the noise. "It is a prisoner," said Edmond joyfully. The night passed in perfect silence. Edmond did not close his eyes. In the morning the jailer brought him fresh provisions--he had already devoured those of the previous day; he ate these listening anxiously for the sound, walking round and round his cell, shaking the iron bars of the loophole, restoring vigor and agility to his limbs by exercise, and so preparing himself for his future destiny. At intervals he listened to learn if the noise had not begun again, and grew impatient at the prudence of the prisoner, who did not guess he had been disturbed by a captive as anxious for liberty as himself. Three days passed--seventy-two long tedious hours which he counted off by minutes! At length one evening, as the jailer was visiting him for the last time that night, Dantes, with his ear for the hundredth time at the wall, fancied he heard an almost imperceptible movement among the stones. He moved away, walked up and down his cell to collect his thoughts, and then went back and listened. The matter was no longer doubtful. Something was at work on the other side of the wall; the prisoner had discovered the danger, and had substituted a lever for a chisel. Encouraged by this discovery, Edmond determined to assist the indefatigable laborer. He began by moving his bed, and looked around for anything with which he could pierce the wall, penetrate the moist cement, and displace a stone. He saw nothing, he had no knife or sharp instrument, the window grating was of iron, but he had too often assured himself of its solidity. All his furniture consisted of a bed, a chair, a table, a pail, and a jug. The bed had iron clamps, but they were screwed to the wood, and it would have required a screw-driver to take them off. The table and chair had nothing, the pail had once possessed a handle, but that had been removed. Dantes had but one resource, which was to break the jug, and with one of the sharp fragments attack the wall. He let the jug fall on the floor, and it broke in pieces. Dantes concealed two or three of the sharpest fragments in his bed, leaving the rest on the floor. The breaking of his jug was too natural an accident to excite suspicion. Edmond had all the night to work in, but in the darkness he could not do much, and he soon felt that he was working against something very hard; he pushed back his bed, and waited for day. All night he heard the subterranean workman, who continued to mine his way. Day came, the jailer entered. Dantes told him that the jug had fallen from his hands while he was drinking, and the jailer went grumblingly to fetch another, without giving himself the trouble to remove the fragments of the broken one. He returned speedily, advised

" This advice was to the jailer's taste. and was he to wait inactive until his fellow workman had completed his task? Suddenly an idea occurred to him--he smiled. Dantes strove to do this with his nails. according as the turnkey gave it to him or to his companion first. as it spared him the necessity of making another trip. therefore. he listened until the sound of steps died away. the jailer. The jailer was accustomed to pour the contents of the saucepan into Dantes' plate. might be formed. Was he to be thus stopped at the beginning.the prisoner to be more careful. supposing that the rock was not encountered. and departed. and then. The fragments of the jug broke. Dantes heard joyfully the key grate in the lock. The damp had rendered it friable. saw by the faint light that penetrated into his cell. as he entered. with the utmost precaution. inserted . Then he looked about for something to pour the soup into. took the handle of the saucepan. The wall was built of rough stones. and after waiting an hour. only grumbled. to give strength to the structure. and the perspiration dried on his forehead. The handle of this saucepan was of iron. and Dantes. in removing the cement. This time he could not blame Dantes. Dantes' entire dinner service consisted of one plate--there was no alternative. a mathematician might have calculated that in two years. hastily displacing his bed. it is true. and Dantes was able to break it off--in small morsels. what might he not have accomplished? In three days he had succeeded. and despondency. prayer. The prisoner reproached himself with not having thus employed the hours he had passed in vain hopes. for Dantes had noticed that it was either quite full. lest the jailer should change his mind and return. Dantes would have given ten years of his life in exchange for it. The jailer. and exposing the stone-work. and after an hour of useless toil. which thus served for every day. He left the saucepan. after eating his soup with a wooden spoon. a passage twenty feet long and two feet broad. He rapidly devoured his food. but they were too weak. washed the plate. During the six years that he had been imprisoned. He was wrong to leave it there. Now when evening came Dantes put his plate on the ground near the door. The jailer always brought Dantes' soup in an iron saucepan. or half empty. that he had labored uselessly the previous evening in attacking the stone instead of removing the plaster that surrounded it. he paused. but at the end of half an hour he had scraped off a handful. blocks of hewn stone were at intervals imbedded. It was one of these he had uncovered. this saucepan contained soup for both prisoners. he removed his bed." said Dantes. and which he must remove from its socket. but the jailer was wrong not to have looked before him. Dantes was beside himself with joy. "you can take it away when you bring me my breakfast. among which. "Leave the saucepan. stepped on it and broke it.

the hole Dantes had made. This beam crossed. The turnkey poured his ration of soup into it. He felt more gratitude for the possession of this piece of iron than he had ever felt for anything. "No. "I hear a human voice. the government would be ruined. The unhappy young man had not thought of this. if all the prisoners followed your example. and covered it with earth. Dantes straightened the handle of the saucepan as well as he could. he would go to his neighbor. he toiled on all the night without being discouraged. The iron made no impression. and pour your soup into that. however. He listened--all was silent. and he rose to his knees. the jailer entered and placed the bread on the table. don't you intend to bring me another plate?" said Dantes. and lay down." said he. the turnkey retired. "Well. "Ah. therefore. Dantes wished to ascertain whether his neighbor had really ceased to work. "In the name of heaven. Dantes sighed. after having deprived me of death. "I have so earnestly prayed to you." Edmond had not heard any one speak save his jailer for four or five years. "you destroy everything. and. A slight oscillation showed Dantes that all went well. to dig above or under it. This would have been a method of reckoning time. sounded hollow and sepulchral in the young man's ears. but met with a smooth surface. carried it into the corner of his cell. and employed it as a lever. though the sound of your voice terrifies me. and found that it was a beam. he continued to work without ceasing. had not Dantes long ceased to do so. He had noticed. Edmond's hair stood on end. a barrier of flesh and blood adding strength to restraints of oak and iron." cried Dantes. However. Then. wishing to make the best use of his time while he had the means of labor." replied the turnkey. When the hour for his jailer's visit arrived. At the end of an hour the stone was extricated from the wall. no matter. that the prisoner on the other side had ceased to labor. or rather blocked up. All day he toiled on untiringly. but after two or three hours he encountered an obstacle. First you break your jug. After having deprived me of my liberty. and placed it in its accustomed place. that I hoped my prayers had been heard. Dantes carefully collected the plaster. and by the evening he had succeeded in extracting ten handfuls of plaster and fragments of stone. it was evident that his neighbor distrusted him. "O my God. The breakfast consisted of a piece of bread. it was necessary. then you make me break your plate. Who are you?" . At the dawn of day he replaced the stone. Dantes touched it. have pity on me. my God!" murmured he. together with the fish--for thrice a week the prisoners were deprived of meat. leaving a cavity a foot and a half in diameter." Dantes raised his eyes to heaven and clasped his hands beneath the coverlet. "speak again. Having poured out the soup. my God. as it had been for the last three days. So for the future I hope you will not be so destructive. pushed his bed against the wall. after having recalled me to existence. 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.the point between the hewn stone and rough stones of the wall. and a jailer is no man to a prisoner--he is a living door. deadened by the distance. I shall leave you the saucepan. this was a greater reason for proceeding--if his neighbor would not come to him.

" 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." said the voice." "But of what are you accused?" "Of having conspired to aid the emperor's return. who made no hesitation in answering."Who are you?" said the voice. and was sent to the Island of Elba. But how long have you been here that you are ignorant of all this?" "Since 1811." "What does your chamber open on?" "A corridor." "What! For the emperor's return?--the emperor is no longer on the throne." "And the corridor?" . "Do not dig any more. this man had been four years longer than himself in prison. 1815. "An unhappy prisoner." "How is it concealed?" "Behind my bed." "Your crime?" "I am innocent." "How long have you been here?" "Since the 28th of February. "Of what country?" "A Frenchman." "Your profession?" "A sailor." "Your name?" "Edmond Dantes." replied Dantes.

and wait until you hear from me. but I conjure you do not abandon me. and you will have my death to reproach yourself with. then. "I swear to you again. "Oh. All I do know is. for I have got to the end of my strength. but your age reassures me." "Not quite twenty-six!" murmured the voice. Edmond fancied he heard a bitter laugh resounding from the depths. for I was about to form another plan. I am a Christian." "Oh. who you are?" "I am--I am No. stop up your excavation carefully." said Dantes. and ask for my assistance." "You mistrust me. I will not forget you." "Tell me. "I swear to you by him who died for us that naught shall induce me to breathe one syllable to my jailers. but now all is lost." "But then you would be close to the sea?" "That is what I hoped. I swear to you." "How old are you? Your voice is that of a young man." cried Dantes." "All?" "Yes. 1815. do not work any more. Wait. that I will dash my brains out against the wall." "I do not know my age. at least. what is the matter?" cried Dantes."On a court. I took the wall you are mining for the outer wall of the fortress. no." "And supposing you had succeeded?" "I should have thrown myself into the sea. the 28th of February. for I have not counted the years I have been here. rather than betray you. that I was just nineteen when I was arrested." "Alas!" murmured the voice. I would allow myself to be hacked in pieces!" "You have done well to speak to me. "I have made a mistake owing to an error in my plans. and leave you." cried Dantes. 27. and have come out fifteen feet from where I intended. I took the wrong angle." "Could you have swum so far?" "Heaven would have given me strength. "at that age he cannot be a traitor. If you do. guessing instinctively that this man meant to abandon him. "Oh. gained one of the islands near here--the Isle de Daume or the Isle de Tiboulen--and then I should have been safe. no." "How long?" .

Dantes rose. however. as he knelt with his head in the opening. he would have a companion. suddenly gave way. whom he loved already. Night came. Dantes was on his bed. so that we have twelve hours before us." "Is your jailer gone?" "Yes. he threw himself on his knees. I will be your comrade." In a moment that part of the floor on which Dantes was resting his two hands. He then gave himself up to his happiness." "Then you will love me." "I can work. and then his mind was made up--when the jailer moved his bed and stooped to examine the opening. I only love him and a young girl called Mercedes. about to regain his liberty. He would no longer be alone. The jailer went away shaking his head." "But you will not leave me. If you are young. The next morning. Doubtless there was a strange expression in his eyes. "Is it you?" said he. dispersed the fragments with the same precaution as before."I must calculate our chances. you will come to me. he heard three knocks. I will be your son. this instant. "to-morrow. He was. He would be condemned to die. perhaps. he feared that the emotion of his voice would betray him. pressing his hand on his heart. if you are old. Plaints made in common are almost prayers. but he was about to die of grief and despair when this miraculous noise recalled him to life. All day Dantes walked up and down his cell. Once or twice the thought crossed his mind that he might be separated from this unknown. but he was mistaken. and pushed his bed back against the wall. Dantes hoped that his neighbor would profit by the silence to address him. but God alone knows if she loves me still. "Come. "Oh. are you going mad again?" Dantes did not answer. you of those whom you love. then?" said the voice. I will give you the signal. The jailer came in the evening. I entreat you. he would kill him with his water jug. just as he removed his bed from the wall. It seemed to him that thus he better guarded the unfinished opening." said Dantes. he . yes." "It is well." returned the voice. At the slightest noise he bounded towards the door. You must love somebody?" "No. and if we cannot escape we will talk. He sat down occasionally on his bed. "I am here. "he will not return until the evening. I am sure. I am alone in the world. and captivity that is shared is but half captivity. I have a father who is seventy if he yet lives. My father has not yet forgotten me. for the jailer said. and prayers where two or three are gathered together invoke the mercy of heaven. at the worst." These few words were uttered with an accent that left no doubt of his sincerity. I shall love you as I loved my father. We will escape. or you will let me come to you. yes. and I of those whom I love.

--a chisel. and lastly the body of a man. fitting it into its place. and this very tool has sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I came hither. He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly welcome. deeply furrowed by care. he displayed a sharp strong blade. He received the enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident pleasure. pincers. 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. "And with what did you contrive to make that?" inquired Dantes. Large drops of perspiration were now standing on his brow. with astonishment. while a mass of stones and earth disappeared in a hole that opened beneath the aperture he himself had formed. 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. Seizing in his arms the friend so long and ardently desired. a distance of about fifty feet. 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. betokened a man more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties than his physical strength." "Well." . he said." So saying. then. I have all that are necessary. "do you possess any?" "I made myself some. as though his chilled affections were rekindled and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent. His thin face. in the first place." "Why. and with the exception of a file. how I should like to see these products of your industry and patience. Then from the bottom of this passage." Advancing to the opening. "Let us first see.-"You removed this stone very carelessly. penetrating eye. with hair blanched rather by suffering and sorrow than by age. He was a man of small stature.drew back smartly. almost buried beneath the thick gray eyebrow. A Learned Italian. "With one of the clamps of my bedstead. he stooped and raised the stone easily in spite of its weight." exclaimed Dantes. Dantes almost carried him towards the window. the depth of which it was impossible to measure. and a long (and still black) beard reaching down to his breast. with a handle made of beechwood. The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty-five years. and lever. in order to obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the imperfect light that struggled through the grating. here is my chisel. and the bold outline of his strongly marked features. "whether it is possible to remove the traces of my entrance here--our future tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely ignorant of it. he saw appear. Chapter 16. He had a deep-set. who sprang lightly into his cell." "Oh. first the head. but I suppose you had no tools to aid you. then the shoulders." said he.

" "That's true." said Dantes. to an opening through which a child could not have passed. and. . My labor is all in vain. climbed from the table to the outstretched hands of Dantes. so as to be able to command a perfect view from top to bottom. saying. and it would take ten experienced miners. I have. and throw myself into the sea. for I find that the corridor looks into a courtyard filled with soldiers. I expected. I made it fifty. whom as yet Dantes knew only by the number of his cell. furnished with three iron bars. "Climb up. The young man obeyed. as I told you. to reach the outer wall. "I thought so!" and sliding from the shoulders of Dantes as dextrously as he had ascended. "Do not speak so loud. he managed to slip his head between the upper bars of the window. for want of the necessary geometrical instruments to calculate my scale of proportion. as many years to perforate it. young man--don't speak so loud. he dragged the table beneath the window. that persons are stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely to overhear the conversation of the prisoners. was. then. which gradually diminished in size as it approached the outside. we should only get into some lock-up cellars. mounted on the table. divining the wishes of his companion. where we must necessarily be recaptured." "But they believe I am shut up alone here. so as to quiet all apprehensions even in the mind of the most suspicious jailer as to the possibility of a prisoner's escape. for the ceiling of the dungeon prevented him from holding himself erect. The fourth and last side of your cell faces on--faces on--stop a minute. This loophole. there are three others--do you know anything of their situation?" "This one is built against the solid rock."Fifty feet!" responded Dantes. unfortunately. An instant afterwards he hastily drew back his head. and. sprang up with an agility by no means to be expected in a person of his years. bending double. As the stranger asked the question. light and steady on his feet as a cat or a lizard. I did not curve aright. It frequently occurs in a state prison like this. only." "And you say that you dug your way a distance of fifty feet to get here?" "I do. however. he nimbly leaped from the table to the ground." "That makes no difference. and from them to his shoulders. almost terrified. 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. "but the corridor you speak of only bounds one side of my cell. kept along the corridor on which your chamber opens." said he to Dantes. for better security. and were we to work our way through. instead of going beneath it. duly furnished with the requisite tools. instead of taking an ellipsis of forty feet. The stranger. that is about the distance that separates your chamber from mine. pierce through it. This adjoins the lower part of the governor's apartments. placed his back securely against the wall and held out both hands.

a stadtholder who becomes a king. "it is so. Cromwell.." "Say not so. in his turn descending from the table. Then new concessions to the people. "Then listen. yes. an air of profound resignation spread itself over his careworn countenance. "You perceive then the utter impossibility of escaping through your dungeon?" "Then. Dantes gazed on the man who could thus philosophically resign hopes so long and ardently nourished with an astonishment mingled with admiration." "Are you quite sure of that?" "Certain. I saw the soldier's shape and the top of his musket. previously to which I had been confined for three years in the fortress of Fenestrelle. and sentries keep watch day and night." "Well?" inquired Dantes. "if. this colossus of power would be overthrown. "I am the Abbe Faria. indeed. for I was fearful he might also see me. Louis XVIII. and have been imprisoned as you know in this Chateau d'If since the year 1811."What was it that you thought?" asked the young man anxiously. "Tell me. In the year 1811 I was transferred to Piedmont in France. After Charles I. This side of your chamber looks out upon a kind of open gallery." answered the elder prisoner. that four years afterwards." said he at length. that made me draw in my head so quickly. who and what you are?" said he at length. "never have I met with so remarkable a person as yourself. 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. and then James II.! How inscrutable are the ways of providence--for what great and mysterious purpose has it pleased heaven to abase the man once so elevated. The elder prisoner pondered the matter. "Yes. Pray let me know who you really are?" The stranger smiled a melancholy smile." continued he. you can console and support me by the strength of your own powerful mind." "The brother of Louis XVII.. powerless to aid you in any way." said he. I was very far then from expecting the change you have just informed me of. some Prince of Orange. named king of Rome even in his cradle. It was at this period I learned that the destiny which seemed subservient to every wish formed by Napoleon. alas. "the will of God be done!" and as the old man slowly pronounced those words. namely. and then some son-in-law or relation. you feel any curiosity respecting one." "Willingly. I entreat of you.?" "No. after Cromwell. Charles II. "Yes. then .. had bestowed on him a son." pursued the young man eagerly-"Then." answered the stranger. Then who reigns in France at this moment--Napoleon II. "'Twill be the same as it was in England. now. where patrols are continually passing.

and powerful empire.--"Then you abandon all hope of escape?" "I perceive its utter impossibility. because I fancied I had found my Caesar Borgia in a crowned simpleton. "the priest who here in the Chateau d'If is generally thought to be--ill?" "Mad. Ah. 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. if such innocent beings could be found in an abode devoted like this to suffering and despair. turning towards Dantes." Dantes remained for a short time mute and motionless. in all probability." answered Dantes. by acknowledging that I am the poor mad prisoner of the Chateau d'If. my friend!" said the abbe. you will see all this come to pass. but I forget this sometimes. "we are prisoners. and have been two years scraping and digging out earth. Napoleon certainly he knew something of. hard as granite itself. I should be promoted to the honor of making sport for the children." replied Faria. be not discouraged. smiling. if ever I get out of prison!" "True." And the old man bowed his head." "Nay. it shows how little notion you can have of all it has cost me to effect a purpose so unexpectedly frustrated. inasmuch as he had seen and spoken with him. because. lastly. In the first place. "Are you not. and Napoleon was unable to complete his work. for many years permitted to amuse the different visitors with what is said to be my insanity. you mean. that you talk of beginning over again. then liberty." resumed Faria with a bitter smile. then. and. but it will never succeed now. Italy seems fated to misfortune. like Machiavelli. then what toil and fatigue has it not been to remove huge stones I should once have deemed impossible to loosen. "let me answer your question in full.a constitution. considering my labor well repaid if." "But wherefore are you here?" "Because in 1807 I dreamed of the very plan Napoleon tried to realize in 1811. by night-time I had contrived to carry away a square inch of this . "Well. and instead of allowing it to be split up into a quantity of petty principalities. but of Clement VII. and Clement VII. compact. and I consider it impious to attempt that which the Almighty evidently does not approve. and surveying him with the kindling gaze of a prophet. for they attempted it fruitlessly. I was four years making the tools I possess. I desired to alter the political face of Italy. who feigned to enter into my views only to betray me." "Probably. Whole days have I passed in these Titanic efforts. and there are even moments when my mental vision transports me beyond these walls. and. he knew nothing.." he asked. and I fancy myself at liberty. at length he said. I sought to form one large. don't you?" "I did not like to say so. and Alexander VI. Dantes could not understand a man risking his life for such matters. each held by some weak or tyrannical ruler. "you are young. It was the plan of Alexander VI.

hesitate to entertain the same project? He could do it in an hour. and to remember that what has once been done may be done again. that I scarcely think it would be possible to add another handful of dust without leading to discovery.hard-bound cement. for pure pastime. like himself. and had failed only because of an error in calculation. a priest and savant. should you have been fortunate enough to have escaped the fire of the sentinels. while Edmond himself remained standing. some things which appear so impossible that the mind does not dwell on them for an instant. Escape had never once occurred to him. I was compelled to break through a staircase. older and less strong than he. and now. let me know what it is you have discovered?" "The corridor through which you have bored your way from the cell you occupy here. if successful. 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. Another had done all this. 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. 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. and how many times had he. There are. resigning himself rather to death. with almost incredible patience and perseverance. an experienced diver. perhaps a hundred feet. indeed. "I have found what you were in search of!" Faria started: "Have you. Faria. Rattonneau. and even. for which I had so exactly husbanded my strength as to make it just hold out to the termination of my enterprise. who was but half as old. extends in the same direction as the outer gallery. raising his head with quick anxiety. sixty." Dantes held down his head. but the well is now so completely choked up. had devoted three years to the task. Another. "pray. should a hardy sailer. was it impossible to Dantes? Faria had dug his way through fifty feet. had contrived to provide himself with tools requisite for so unparalleled an attempt. that nothing shall induce me to renew attempts evidently at variance with the Almighty's pleasure. To undermine the ground for fifty feet--to devote three years to a labor which. After continuing some time in profound meditation. But the sight of an old man clinging to life with so desperate a courage. The abbe sank upon Edmond's bed. at the age of fifty. gave a fresh turn to his ideas. my hopes are forever dashed from me. continued in the water for more than twice as long! At once Dantes resolved to follow the brave example of his energetic companion. Dantes would dig a hundred. and throw the fruits of my labor into the hollow part of it. at the moment when I reckoned upon success. why. then. supposing all these perils past. Faria. the young man suddenly exclaimed. does it not?" . Consider also that I fully believed I had accomplished the end and aim of my undertaking. he. would conduct you to a precipice overhanging the sea--to plunge into the waves from the height of fifty. This same person. I repeat again. at the risk of being dashed to pieces against the rocks. then to conceal the mass of earth and rubbish I dug up. should he. and inspired him with new courage. would sacrifice six. indeed?" cried he. who had so often for mere amusement's sake plunged to the bottom of the sea to fetch up the bright coral branch. No. changed by ages into a substance unyielding as the stones themselves. or Lemaire. shrink from a similar task. had attempted what he had not had sufficient resolution to undertake.

and every night renewing the task of the day." "One instant. Hitherto I have fancied myself merely waging war against circumstances. and what use I intend making of my strength. "do you think yourself more guilty in making the attempt since you have encountered me?" "No. We must pierce through the corridor by forming a side opening about the middle. then. I will tell you what we must do. I consider that I have abundantly exercised that in beginning every morning the task of the night before. "Because. but I cannot so easily persuade myself to pierce a heart or take away a life. and by following this instinct he is enabled to measure the leap necessary to permit him to spring on his victim." answered Dantes. those that proceed from the head and . and so it ever is because in simple and allowable things our natural instincts keep us from deviating from the strict line of duty. and make our escape." replied the abbe. 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." "Well. 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. but man. and strength. as it were the top part of a cross. 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. my dear friend. "Is it possible. "that where your liberty is at stake you can allow any such scruple to deter you from obtaining it?" "Tell me. which I am not deficient in. "it is clear you do not understand the nature of the courage with which I am endowed. This time you will lay your plans more accurately. not men. and that you possess. whose nature teaches him to delight in shedding blood. or destroy a staircase. dressing yourself in his clothes." "And have your notions changed?" asked Dantes with much surprise." said the old man. we shall get out into the gallery you have described."It does. you have abundantly proved yours--you shall now see me prove mine. or rather soul. neither do I wish to incur guilt. As for patience. But then." A slight movement of surprise escaped Dantes. needs but the sense of smell to show him when his prey is within his reach." "And is not above fifteen feet from it?" "About that. young man (and I pray of you to give me your full attention)." said he. I have thought it no sin to bore through a wall. The tiger." replied Faria. "the natural repugnance to the commission of such a crime prevented you from thinking of it. and endeavoring to escape?" "Simply the fact that the idea never occurred to me. kill the sentinel who guards it. for there are two distinct sorts of ideas. All we require to insure success is courage. as for patience. "what has hindered you from knocking down your jailer with a piece of wood torn from your bedstead. and merited not condemnation.

therefore. "I did not turn to that source for recreation or support. "When you pay me a visit in my cell. "I had none but what I made for myself.those that emanate from the heart. till I knew them nearly by heart. you had your hopes to refresh and encourage you. ink." "Were you then permitted the use of pens. wait patiently for some favorable moment. but after reading them over many times." "I assure you." "And on what have you written all this?" "On two of my shirts.' and will make one large quarto volume. at the foot of St. you were constantly employed in the task you set yourself. and when weary with toil." "You made paper. and paper?" "Oh." "You are. They have rarely been successful. Those that have been crowned with full success have been long meditated upon. "I will show you an entire work. little imagining at the time that they would be arranged in order within the walls of the Chateau d'If. as the escape of the Duc de Beaufort from the Chateau de Vincennes. and those are the best of all. I found out that with one hundred and fifty well-chosen books a man possesses." Dantes gazed with admiration. I devoted three years of my life to reading and studying these one hundred and fifty volumes. and was the intimate friend of Cabanis. "Since my imprisonment. at least all that a man need really know. Let us. Then there are those for which chance sometimes affords opportunity. profit by it. if not a complete summary of all human knowledge. pens and ink?" "Yes." replied the old man. then." said Dantes. no. Mark's column at Venice. The work I speak of is called 'A Treatise on the Possibility of a General Monarchy in Italy. that of the Abbe Dubuquoi from For l'Eveque. "you might well endure the tedious delay." "What did you do then?" "I wrote or studied." answered the abbe. I know Lavoisier." "Ah. and carefully arranged. my young friend. Faria saw this. so that since I have . and when it presents itself. of Latude from the Bastille. I invented a preparation that makes linen as smooth and as easy to write on as parchment." "But for such a work you must have needed books--had you any?" "I had nearly five thousand volumes in my library at Rome. for instance. and on the borders of the Arno at Florence. the fruits of the thoughts and reflections of my whole life. such." said he. but he had some difficulty in believing. a chemist?" "Somewhat. many of them meditated over in the shades of the Colosseum at Rome. "I have thought over all the most celebrated cases of escape on record." said Faria.

For very important notes. . although I believe there are nearly one hundred thousand in the dictionaries." "But the ink. While retracing the past. and wrote with my own blood. for which closer attention is required. in which he soon disappeared. which is all that is absolutely necessary. English. Well. German. "why." "Improve yourself!" repeated Dantes. and I assure you a better ink cannot be desired. "Then if you were not furnished with pens. I know nearly one thousand words. I pricked one of my fingers. "Oh. a very slight effort of memory has enabled me to recall their contents as readily as though the pages were open before me. Still. Titus Livius." "You are. I could recite you the whole of Thucydides. for I will freely confess that my historical labors have been my greatest solace and relief. followed by Dantes. so as to enable me to express my thoughts through their medium. Spinoza. Plutarch." "And when. You are aware what huge whitings are served to us on maigre days. Shakespeare. I selected the cartilages of the heads of these fishes." replied Faria. this soot I dissolved in a portion of the wine brought to me every Sunday. and Spanish." Stronger grew the wonder of Dantes. I made a vocabulary of the words I knew. but I certainly should have no difficulty in explaining my wants and wishes. Montaigne. who almost fancied he had to do with one gifted with supernatural powers. by the aid of ancient Greek I learned modern Greek--I don't speak it so well as I could wish. and traversing at will the path of history I cease to remember that I am myself a prisoner. still hoping to find some imperfection which might bring him down to a level with human beings. doubtless. Friday. I speak five of the modern tongues--that is to say. so as to have been able to read all these?" "Yes." said the abbe. Machiavelli." replied the abbe. Tacitus. he added. Jornandes. Italian. and Bossuet. which would be universally preferred to all others if once known. "may I see all this?" "Whenever you please. I forget the present. French. acquainted with a variety of languages. how can you manage to do so?" "Why. and that would be quite as much as I should ever require. as affording me the means of increasing my stock of pens. I name only the most important. "Follow me. for it was thickly covered with a coating of soot. "but it was closed up long ere I became an occupant of this prison. as he re-entered the subterranean passage. I cannot hope to be very fluent. and you can scarcely imagine the delight with which I welcomed the arrival of each Wednesday. Xenophon. then. and Saturday.been in prison. then let it be directly!" exclaimed the young man. but I am still trying to improve myself." asked Dantes. turned. and arranged them. Strada. how did you manage to write the work you speak of?" "I made myself some excellent ones. it must have been many years in use." said Dantes. "of what did you make your ink?" "There was formerly a fireplace in my dungeon. Dante. returned.

These rolls consisted of slips of cloth about four inches wide and eighteen long. "and then observe the lines traced on the wall. while the sun and earth never vary in their appointed paths. a language he. I am enabled to ascertain the precise hour with more minuteness than if I possessed a watch. "Come. Well. beneath which was a cavity of considerable depth. "It is well. from seeing the sun rise from behind the mountains and set in the Mediterranean. Dantes cast around one eager and searching glance in quest of the expected marvels. from that point the passage became much narrower. "Look at this ray of light which enters by my window." said he to the abbe. proceeding to the disused fireplace. who had always imagined. As he entered the chamber of his friend. did not admit of their holding themselves erect. by means of these lines. and. Each word that fell from his companion's lips seemed fraught with the mysteries of science. and not the earth. however. a long stone. A double movement of the globe he inhabited. "I am anxious to see your treasures. 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. perfectly understood. for that might be broken or deranged in its movements.Chapter 17. "What do you wish to see first?" asked the abbe. into which the abbe's cell opened. which had doubtless been the hearth. the two friends reached the further end of the corridor. as a Provencal. and the ellipse it describes round the sun. laid one over the other. which. which are in accordance with the double motion of the earth. like folds of papyrus. raised. and of which he could feel nothing. 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. The Abbe's Chamber. that it moved." This last explanation was wholly lost upon Dantes. . so legible that Dantes could easily read it. but nothing more than common met his view. as well as make out the sense--it being in Italian. After having passed with tolerable ease through the subterranean passage. they were all carefully numbered and closely covered with writing. "we have some hours before us--it is now just a quarter past twelve o'clock. by the help of his chisel." Instinctively Dantes turned round to observe by what watch or clock the abbe had been able so accurately to specify the hour. The floor of the abbe's cell was paved." said the abbe. your great work on the monarchy of Italy!" Faria then drew forth from his hiding-place three or four rolls of linen. "Oh. appeared to him perfectly impossible. serving as a safe depository of the articles mentioned to Dantes." The abbe smiled. and barely permitted one to creep through on hands and knees." said the abbe.

" So saying. as though overwhelmed by the perseverance and strength of . I made it. "the penknife. as for the other knife." "One thing still puzzles me. "I told you how I managed to obtain that--and I only just make it from time to time. "Ah. one of those cartilages of which the abbe had before spoken to Dantes. to the end of which was tied. and stood with his head drooping on his breast. and much resembling the size of the handle of a fine painting-brush. as well as this larger knife." The penknife was sharp and keen as a razor." "I separated the fat from the meat served to me." answered Dantes. to complete the precious pages. then looked around to see the instrument with which it had been shaped so correctly into form. and asked for a little sulphur." said Faria. Should I ever get out of prison and find in all Italy a printer courageous enough to publish what I have composed. "As for the ink. melted it."There." said Faria. out of an old iron candlestick. Dantes examined it with intense admiration. 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. That's my masterpiece. yes. it was pointed. which was readily supplied." observed Dantes. but God has supplied man with the intelligence that enables him to overcome the limitations of natural conditions." "I see. by a piece of thread. my literary reputation is forever secured. are your eyes like cats'. I wrote the word finis at the end of the sixty-eighth strip about a week ago." "You did? Pray tell me how. the abbe exhibited a sort of torch very similar to those used in public illuminations. "Now let me behold the curious pens with which you have written your work. it would serve a double purpose. "Night!--why. and with it one could cut and thrust." said he. and divided at the nib like an ordinary pen. for heaven's sake. I furnished myself with a light." "And matches?" "I pretended that I had a disorder of the skin. "and that is how you managed to do all this by daylight?" "I worked at night also. as I require it. I have torn up two of my shirts. and so made oil--here is my lamp. and as many handkerchiefs as I was master of. that you can see to work in the dark?" "Indeed they are not." replied Faria. "there is the work complete." "Look!" said Faria." Dantes laid the different things he had been looking at on the table. showing to the young man a slender stick about six inches long. "But light?" "Here are two flints and a piece of burnt linen.

where he himself could see nothing. Let us shut this one up." "And was it not discovered that your sheets were unhemmed?" "Oh. "What are you thinking of?" asked the abbe smilingly. as. and when I was removed to the Chateau d'If. he found it firm. with a small perforated eye for the thread. "I once thought. and letting myself down from the window. Dantes closely and eagerly examined it. and I therefore renounced the project altogether as too full of risk and danger. the overflow of my brain would probably. the abbe sprinkled a little dust over it to conceal the traces of its having been removed. busily occupied by the idea that a person so intelligent. in the first place. and clear-sighted as the abbe might probably be able to solve the dark mystery of his own misfortunes. which. solid. . was a hollow space. "Who supplied you with the materials for making this wonderful work?" "I tore up several of my shirts. and concealed by a stone fitting in so closely as to defy all suspicion." "With what?" "With this needle. "I was reflecting. misfortune is needed to bring to light the treasures of the human intellect. I managed to bring the ravellings with me. and in this space a ladder of cords between twenty-five and thirty feet in length. ingenious. Captivity has brought my mental faculties to a focus. "upon the enormous degree of intelligence and ability you must have employed to reach the high perfection to which you have attained. and then. and ripped out the seams in the sheets of my bed. have evaporated in a thousand follies." said the abbe." They put the stone back in its place. so that I have been able to finish my work here. Compression is needed to explode gunpowder. as you see. I carefully preserved my ladder against one of those unforeseen opportunities of which I spoke just now. imputing the deep abstraction in which his visitor was plunged to the excess of his awe and wonder. a small portion of which still remained in it. and compact enough to bear any weight. sharp fish-bone. and which sudden chance frequently brings about. the mind of Dantes was. I discovered that I should merely have dropped into a sort of inner court. I hemmed the edges over again. no. "of removing these iron bars." continued Faria. he showed Dantes a long." While affecting to be deeply engaged in examining the ladder. opening his ragged vestments. for when I had taken out the thread I required. he removed it from the spot it stood in." continued Faria. Nevertheless. although I should have enlarged it still more preparatory to my flight. and you are well aware that from the collision of clouds electricity is produced--from electricity. "You have not seen all yet. is somewhat wider than yours. rubbed his foot well on it to make it assume the same appearance as the other. during my three years' imprisonment at Fenestrelle. Behind the head of the bed. "for I did not think it wise to trust all my treasures in the same hiding-place. in fact. however." replied Dantes. What would you not have accomplished if you had been free?" "Possibly nothing at all. going towards his bed.Faria's mind. in a state of freedom.

which occasionally become so powerful as to stifle within us all good feelings. Some of your words are to me quite empty of meaning. and two or three voyages to the Levant until he arrived at the recital of his last cruise. by heaven! I was a very insignificant person." Dantes obeyed." replied Dantes. the abbe reflected long and earnestly. and ultimately to lead us into guilt and wickedness. vices." said he. from an artificial civilization have originated wants. that unless wicked ideas take root in a naturally depraved mind." "It has been long enough to inflict on me a great and undeserved misfortune." . which bears upon what I was saying to you some little while ago. I would fain fix the source of it on man that I may no longer vent reproaches upon heaven. in a right and wholesome state. his temporary detention at the Palais de Justice. "a clever maxim. and his receiving." "Then you profess ignorance of the crime with which you are charged?" "I do. a letter addressed to a Monsieur Noirtier--his arrival at Marseilles. not even the length of time he had been imprisoned. You must be blessed indeed to possess the knowledge you have. with the death of Captain Leclere. Now. revolts at crime. and that is." said the abbe. From this point everything was a blank to Dantes--he knew nothing more. my young friend.lightning.--that while you had related to me all the particulars of your past life. and interview with his father--his affection for Mercedes. "Well. from lightning. His recital finished. and false tastes." said he. and this I swear by the two beings most dear to me upon earth." The abbe smiled." "No. Still. has not been of sufficient length to admit of your having passed through any very important events. "I know nothing. "but you had another subject for your thoughts. illumination. you were perfectly unacquainted with mine. and pushing the bed back to its original situation. to apply it in your case. and their nuptual feast--his arrest and subsequent examination. and commenced what he called his history.--to whom could your disappearance have been serviceable?" "To no one." "Come. and the receipt of a packet to be delivered by himself to the grand marshal. "let me hear your story.--my father and Mercedes. From this view of things. in place of the packet brought. then. but which consisted only of the account of a voyage to India. seek first to discover the person to whom the perpetration of that bad action could be in any way advantageous. his interview with that personage. closing his hiding-place. human nature. at the end of his meditations. indeed. did you not say so just now?" "I did!" "You have told me as yet but one of them--let me hear the other. comes the axiom that if you visit to discover the author of any bad action. "There is." "It was this." "Your life. and his final imprisonment in the Chateau d'If.

You say you were on the point of being made captain of the Pharaon?" "Yes. now I recollect. should you have retained him in his employment?" "Not if the choice had remained with me. we were quite alone. and had even challenged him to fight me. to the employee who keeps his rival out of a place. everything is relative. I had quarelled with him some time previously. for I had frequently observed inaccuracies in his accounts." "Now we are getting on. as in Descartes' theory of pressure and impulsion. And what was this man's name?" "Danglars. I was generally liked on board. has his place on the social ladder. was any person present during your last conversation with Captain Leclere?" "No. but he refused. in the event of the king's death. Well. There was only one person among the crew who had any feeling of ill-will towards me. and had the sailors possessed the right of selecting a captain themselves. for the cabin door was open--and--stay. and receives his salary of twelve thousand livres. I feel convinced their choice would have fallen on me." "And about to become the husband of a young and lovely girl?" "Yes. so that we have a spiral which in defiance of reason rests upon the apex and not on the base. "now we are on the right scent. his successor inherits a crown. 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." "Could your conversation have been overheard by any one?" "It might. Now let us return to your particular world. for your reply evinces neither logic nor philosophy." "Now." "Good again! Now then." "What rank did he hold on board?" "He was supercargo.--when the employee dies. Now. What say you?" "I cannot believe such was the case. and are as essential to him as the twelve millions of a king."Do not speak thus. from the king who stands in the way of his successor. But these forces increase as we go higher. Did you take anybody with you when you put into the port of Elba?" . from the highest to the lowest degree. the supernumerary steps into his shoes. Every one." "That's better.--Danglars himself passed by just as Captain Leclere was giving me the packet for the grand marshal. these twelve thousand livres are his civil list. tell me." "And had you been captain. and is beset by stormy passions and conflicting interests." cried the abbe. my dear young friend.

that one Edmond Dantes." "Now." Dantes paused a moment. I think?" "Yes." "Then it was not till your return to the ship that you put the letter in the portfolio?" "No. everybody could see that you held a letter in your hand?" "Yes. mate on board the Pharaon. the grand marshal did." "And what did you do with this same letter while returning from Porto-Ferrajo to the vessel?" "I carried it in my hand." "Repeat it to me. as well as the rest?" "Danglars. listen to me."Nobody. as the letter will be found either about his person. again. at his father's residence. this day arrived from Smyrna." said he." "And what did you do with that letter?" "Put it into my portfolio." "So that when you went on board the Pharaon." "Do you really think so? Ah. as well as a good heart." . and try to recall every circumstance attending your arrest. by the usurper. "and you must have had a very confiding nature. has been intrusted by Murat with a packet for the usurper. then said. Do you recollect the words in which the information against you was formulated?" "Oh yes. it was left on board. as well as others. This proof of his guilt may be procured by his immediate arrest. not to have suspected the origin of the whole affair. I read it over three times.'" The abbe shrugged his shoulders." "You had your portfolio with you. or in his cabin on board the Pharaon. then? Now. and the words sank deeply into my memory. how could a sailor find room in his pocket for a portfolio large enough to contain an official letter?" "You are right." "Somebody there received your packet. with a letter for the Bonapartist Club in Paris. and gave you a letter in place of it. "This is it. word for word: 'The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and religion. after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo. that would indeed be infamous." "Danglars. "The thing is clear as day.

with his left hand." . running hand." "You imagine him capable of writing the letter?" "Oh. taking up what he called his pen." "I am listening. but an act of cowardice." "Simply because that accusation had been written with the left hand. Dantes drew back. and." "Oh. a young man who loved her." "Let us proceed. he wrote on a piece of prepared linen. the first two or three words of the accusation." "Stop a bit. and I have noticed that"-"What?" "That while the writing of different persons done with the right hand varies." "Was there any person whose interest it was to prevent your marriage with Mercedes?" "Yes." "That is in strict accordance with the Spanish character. after dipping it into the ink. no. that performed with the left hand is invariably uniform. if disguised. "Why your writing exactly resembles that of the accusation. "How very astonishing!" cried he at length. yes!" "Now as regards the second question. yes. "Disguised. he would more likely have got rid of me by sticking a knife into me." "You have evidently seen and observed everything. I think?" "He was a Catalan. never." "That is a Spanish name. an assassination they will unhesitatingly commit." "It was very boldly written." said the abbe." "And his name was"-"Fernand." Again the abbe smiled." "And how was the anonymous letter written?" "Backhanded. and gazed on the abbe with a sensation almost amounting to terror."How did Danglars usually write?" "In a handsome.

in all probability made their acquaintance. in good truth. "Is there anything else I can assist you in discovering." said Dantes. to explain to me how it was that I underwent no second examination. was never brought to trial. and to whom the greatest mystery seems but an easy riddle. his deputy. They were in earnest conversation. you see more clearly into my life than I do myself." . you must assist me by the most minute information on every point. yes. was condemned without ever having had sentence passed on me?" "That is altogether a different and more serious matter." "Were they alone?" "There was a third person with them whom I knew perfectly well. was Danglars acquainted with Fernand?" "No--yes. and. pressing his hand to his throbbing brows. All we have hitherto done in the matter has been child's play." responded the abbe. and paper." "In the first place. ink. besides the villany of your friends?" inquired the abbe with a laugh. for." "Pray ask me whatever questions you please." "Then it is Danglars. treacherous scoundrels!" exclaimed Dantes. he was a tailor named Caderousse. Pray. who examined you. the heartless."Besides." "You had never spoken of them yourself to any one?" "To no one. Stay!--stay!--How strange that it should not have occurred to me before! Now I remember quite well.--the king's attorney." "Not even to your mistress?" "No. 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. not even to my betrothed. and who had. but Fernand looked pale and agitated. "I would beg of you. that on the table round which they were sitting were pens. If you wish me to enter upon the more difficult part of the business. above all. Oh. then. "The ways of justice are frequently too dark and mysterious to be easily penetrated. who see so completely to the depths of things. "Yes. he was." "Wait a little." replied Dantes eagerly. Danglars was joking in a friendly way. "the various circumstances mentioned in the letter were wholly unknown to him." "I feel quite sure of it now. or a magistrate?" "The deputy. but he was very drunk.

" "Never mind." "You think so?" "I am sure of it. let us go on." "Then you feel quite sure that it was your misfortune he deplored?" "He gave me one great proof of his sympathy. saying at the same time." "With all my heart! You tell me he burned the letter?" "He did. This man might." "What? the accusation?" "No. 'You see I thus destroy the only proof existing against you."Was he young or old?" "About six or seven and twenty years of age." said Dantes. after all. "Old enough to be ambitions. I should say." "So. He seemed quite overcome by my misfortune. To whom was this letter addressed?" ." "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." "That alters the case." "Upon my word. but too young to be corrupt. at any rate. And how did he treat you?" "With more of mildness than severity.'" "This action is somewhat too sublime to be natural. be a greater scoundrel than you have thought possible. and remember that two-legged tigers and crocodiles are more dangerous than the others." "Are you sure?" "I saw it done. "you make me shudder." "Did you tell him your whole story?" "I did. the letter." "By your misfortune?" "Yes. Is the world filled with tigers and crocodiles?" "Yes." "And that?" "He burnt the sole evidence that could at all have criminated me." answered the abbe.

and said. assuring me he so advised me for my own interest. Starting up. "His father! his father!" "Yes. you poor short-sighted simpleton. "Do you see that ray of sunlight?" "I do. more than this. who had been a Girondin during the Revolution! What was your deputy called?" "De Villefort!" The abbe burst into a fit of laughter." "And then made you swear never to utter the name of Noirtier?" "Yes." "Why." . his father. The change that had come over Villefort during the examination." "Well." replied the abbe. "I must be alone."To M. who seemed rather to implore mercy than to pronounce punishment. can you not guess who this Noirtier was. and cleared up all that had been dark and obscure before. the destruction of the letter." "Noirtier!" repeated the abbe. He cried out. No. the exacted promise. to think over all this. he insisted on my taking a solemn oath never to utter the name mentioned in the address. and exclaimed. or hell opened its yawning gulf before him. he clasped his hands around his head as though to prevent his very brain from bursting. "What ails you?" said he at length. he could not have been more completely transfixed with horror than he was at the sound of these unexpected words. for he made me promise several times never to speak of that letter to any one. 13 Coq-Heron. whose very name he was so careful to keep concealed? Noirtier was his father." "And the worthy man destroyed your compromising letter?" "Yes. "Noirtier!--I knew a person of that name at the court of the Queen of Etruria. the whole thing is more clear to me than that sunbeam is to you. "his right name was Noirtier de Villefort. Paris.--all returned with a stunning force to his memory. and." "Now can you conceive of any interest that your heroic deputy could possibly have had in the destruction of that letter?" "Why. the almost supplicating tones of the magistrate. while Dantes gazed on him in utter astonishment." At this instant a bright light shot through the mind of Dantes. 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. Poor fellow! poor young man! And you tell me this magistrate expressed great sympathy and commiseration for you?" "He did." Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of Dantes. it is not altogether impossible he might have had. Noirtier.--a Noirtier.

he threw himself on his bed. I promise you never to mention another word about escaping. however. or applied to the sort of knowledge his nautical life had enabled him to acquire. where the turnkey found him in the evening visit. and the three or four modern languages with which I am acquainted. Faria bent on him his penetrating eye: "I regret now. then mournfully shook his head. who. his features were no longer contracted. "do you really believe I can acquire all these things in so short a time?" "Not their application. and gave fantastic glimpses of new horizons. "Because it has instilled a new passion in your heart--that of vengeance." said he. he began to speak of other matters. but in accordance with Dantes' request." "Why so?" inquired Dantes. for the unfortunate man never alluded to his own sorrows. sitting with fixed gaze and contracted features. "human knowledge is confined within very narrow limits. and when I have taught you mathematics. were wholly incomprehensible to him. but. like that of all who have experienced many trials." said Dantes. had come to invite his fellow-sufferer to share his supper. some of his remarks corresponded with what he already knew. Dantes was at length roused from his revery by the voice of Faria. opened new vistas to the inquiring mind of the listener. and bound himself to its fulfilment by a solemn oath. it will scarcely require two years for me to communicate to you the stock of learning I possess." "Two years!" exclaimed Dantes. you will know as much as I do myself. Dantes followed. my boy. "You must teach me a small part of what you know. and the abbe had come to ask his young companion to share the luxuries with him. Again the abbe looked at him. history. had procured for the abbe unusual privileges." said he. but it was never egotistical. having also been visited by his jailer. but there was that in his whole appearance that bespoke one who had come to a fixed and desperate resolve. certainly. and now wore their usual expression. where he was so much at home. which to him had seemed only minutes. physics. Now. though harmlessly and even amusingly so. whiter quality than the usual prison fare. The reputation of being out of his mind. During these hours of profound meditation. or having given you the information I did. to . The elder prisoner was one of those persons whose conversation. A part of the good abbe's words. dumb and motionless as a statue. but their principles you may." said he. like the aurora which guides the navigator in northern latitudes. He was supplied with bread of a finer. and even regaled each Sunday with a small quantity of wine. 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. "having helped you in your late inquiries. "Alas. Dantes listened with admiring attention to all he said. 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.When he regained his dungeon. "Let us talk of something else. contained many useful and important hints as well as sound information. "if only to prevent your growing weary of me. If you will only agree to my request." The abbe smiled. he had formed a fearful resolution." Dantes smiled. Now this was a Sunday.

and German." "But cannot one learn philosophy?" "Philosophy cannot be taught. however. Memory makes the one. Dantes possessed a prodigious memory. sigh heavily and involuntarily. it is the application of the sciences to truth." "And yet the murder. or the rigid severity of geometry. you have thought of it?" "Incessantly. in spite of the relief his society afforded. while his naturally poetical feelings threw a light and pleasing veil over the dry reality of arithmetical computation. then suddenly rise. "I have already told you." answered the abbe. At the end of a year Dantes was a new man. and. Days. combined with an astonishing quickness and readiness of conception. 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. passed by unheeded in one rapid and instructive course. alas!" cried the abbe. 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. And that very evening the prisoners sketched a plan of education. and exclaimed. In strict accordance with the promise made to the abbe. "Ah.learn is not to know. if you choose to call it so. Sometimes he would fall into long reveries. "What shall you teach me first? I am in a hurry to begin. then." "Everything." said Dantes. "I have." ." "Still. even months. One day he stopped all at once. with folded arms." said Dantes. and by the aid of these two languages he easily comprehended the construction of all the others." "No matter! I could never agree to it. if there were no sentinel!" "There shall not be one a minute longer than you please. the mathematical turn of his mind rendered him apt at all kinds of calculation. if it were only possible to place a deaf and blind sentinel in the gallery beyond us. it is like the golden cloud in which the Messiah went up into heaven. would be simply a measure of self-preservation. "And you have discovered a means of regaining our freedom." said the abbe. Dantes spoke no more of escape. one thought seemed incessantly to harass and distract his mind. I want to learn. there are the learners and the learned. Perhaps the delight his studies afforded him left no room for such thoughts. Dantes observed. "that I loathe the idea of shedding blood. begin pacing the confined space of his dungeon. English." "Well. so that at the end of six months he began to speak Spanish. to be entered upon the following day. daily grew sadder. and had also picked up a little of the Romaic dialect during voyages to the East. philosophy the other. that Faria. He already knew Italian. have you not?" asked Dantes eagerly.

and to let themselves down from the outer walls by means of the abbe's ladder of cords. the abbe shook his head in token of disapproval. this level would bring the two prisoners immediately beneath the gallery where the sentry kept watch. tut!" answered the abbe. with a vigor and alacrity proportionate to their long rest from fatigue and their hopes of ultimate success. by degrees and with the utmost precaution. They had learned to distinguish the almost imperceptible sound of his footsteps as he descended towards their dungeons. with an air of determination that made his companion shudder. never failed of being prepared for his coming. In this passage he proposed to drive a level as they do in mines. "Tut. "Forgive me!" cried Edmond. a large excavation would be made. "Are you strong?" the abbe asked one day of Dantes." The abbe then showed Dantes the sketch he had made for their escape. "man is but man after all. 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. and then as readily straightened it. blushing deeply. in reply. once there. It consisted of a plan of his own cell and that of Dantes. That very day the miners began their labors." "We have lost a year to no purpose!" cried Dantes. with the passage which united them." replied the young man." said the abbe. and you are about the best specimen of the genus I have ever known. stunned by his fall. "impossible!" Dantes endeavored to renew the subject." "Then. The fresh earth excavated during their present work. "And will you engage not to do any harm to the sentry. "Do you consider the last twelve months to have been wasted?" asked the abbe. out of the window in either Faria's . except as a last resort?" "I promise on my honor. no. was thrown. Dantes' eyes sparkled with joy. and he rubbed his hands with delight at the idea of a plan so simple. Three months passed away. bent it into the form of a horseshoe. took up the chisel. would be immediately bound and gagged by Dantes before he had power to offer any resistance. "No. and happily." "And how long shall we be in accomplishing the necessary work?" "At least a year." "And shall we begin at once?" "At once. The young man. The prisoners were then to make their way through one of the gallery windows. yet apparently so certain to succeed. let me show you my plan. and which would have entirely blocked up the old passage. who. and refused to make any further response. "we may hope to put our design into execution."He shall be both blind and deaf. 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. Come." cried the abbe.

"all is over with me. they were obliged to defer their final attempt till that auspicious moment should arrive. Dantes was occupied in arranging this piece of wood when he heard Faria. as they were. and a wooden lever. I can feel that the paroxysm is fast approaching. draw out one of the feet that support the bed. 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. I had a similar attack the year previous to my imprisonment. easily acquired. and the two workmen could distinctly hear the measured tread of the sentinel as he paced to and fro over their heads. "Tell me. whose eyes. Go into my cell as quickly as you can. were surrounded by purple circles.or Dantes' cell. "Alas. or how long the attack may last?" In spite of the magnitude of the misfortune which thus suddenly frustrated his hopes. therefore help me back to my room while I have the strength to drag myself along. and the excavation completed beneath the gallery. "what is the matter? what has happened?" "Quick! quick!" returned the abbe. as well as that outward polish and politeness he had before been wanting in. perhaps mortal illness. pale as death. This malady admits but of one remedy. 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. what ails you?" cried Dantes. the rubbish being first pulverized so finely that the night wind carried it far away without permitting the smallest trace to remain. their greatest dread now was lest the stone through which the sentry was doomed to fall should give way before its right time. thanks to the imitative powers bestowed on him by nature. to await a night sufficiently dark to favor their flight. but . a knife. mixed in the first society of the day. Bring it to me--or rather--no. and his hands clinched tightly together. I beseech you. he wore an air of melancholy dignity which Dantes. More than a year had been consumed in this undertaking. Faria still continuing to instruct Dantes by conversing with him. I will tell you what that is. already dull and sunken. sometimes in another. while his lips were white as those of a corpse. at others. his forehead streaming with perspiration. Dantes did not lose his presence of mind. the only tools for which had been a chisel. where he found him standing in the middle of the room. and had. I am seized with a terrible. sometimes in one language. moreover. call to him in a tone indicative of great suffering. 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. Compelled. "Gracious heavens!" exclaimed Dantes. and which is seldom possessed except by those who have been placed in constant intercourse with persons of high birth and breeding. letting his chisel fall to the floor. Dantes hastened to his dungeon. and his very hair seemed to stand on end." Dantes looked in fear and wonder at the livid countenance of Faria. who had remained in Edmond's cell for the purpose of cutting a peg to secure their rope-ladder. Who knows what may happen. no!--I may be found here." faltered out the abbe. At the end of fifteen months the level was finished. "listen to what I have to say.

He had scarcely done so before the door opened. he struggled. foam at the mouth. dashed himself about. Dantes. more crushed and broken than a reed trampled under foot. . carefully drawing the stone over the opening. An hour passed away and the old man gave no sign of returning animation. shivering as though his veins were filled with ice. uttering neither sigh nor groan. The young man sprang to the entrance. more helpless than an infant. his mouth was drawn on one side. and not before. and raising the stone by pressing his head against it. he managed to reach the abbe's chamber. but he pointed with evident anxiety towards the door. when it comes to its height I shall probably lie still and motionless as though dead. and cry out loudly. and the sufferer made a feeble effort to move. and plainly distinguished the approaching steps of the jailer.descended into the passage. he with difficulty forced open the closely fixed jaws. which. "Thanks. and before the departing steps of the jailer had died away in the long corridor he had to traverse. but Edmond's anxiety had put all thoughts of time out of his head. "He is saved! he is saved!" cried Dantes in a paroxysm of delight. foamed. Dantes began to fear he had delayed too long ere he administered the remedy.--force open my teeth with the knife. and became as rigid as a corpse." "Perhaps!" exclaimed Dantes in grief-stricken tones. doubled up in one last convulsion. then. pour from eight to ten drops of the liquor contained in the phial down my throat. and uttered the most dreadful cries. then. and the jailer saw the prisoner seated as usual on the side of his bed. but he still lay helpless and exhausted. and. Almost before the key had turned in the lock. he fell back. Faria had now fully regained his consciousness. Dantes listened. Take care my cries are not heard. however. "I am about to be seized with a fit of catalepsy. hurried back to the abbe's chamber." said the poor abbe. a faint sigh issued from the lips. for if they are it is more than probable I should be removed to another part of the prison. and colder and paler than marble. half-carrying. consciousness returned to the dull. a violent convulsion shook his whole frame. continued gazing on the lifeless features of his friend. cold. open eyeballs. his cheeks became purple. Dantes prevented from being heard by covering his head with the blanket. It was therefore near seven o'clock. the symptoms may be much more violent. Edmond waited till life seemed extinct in the body of his friend. darted through it. his eyes started from their sockets. carefully administered the appointed number of drops. "I--I--die--I"-So sudden and violent was the fit that the unfortunate prisoner was unable to complete the sentence. and we be separated forever. and hurried to his cell. and anxiously awaited the result. thrusting his hands into his hair. and I may perhaps revive. whose restless anxiety concerning his friend left him no desire to touch the food brought him. The fit lasted two hours. The sick man was not yet able to speak. then. and cause me to fall into fearful convulsions. On the other hand. dragging his unfortunate companion with him. When I become quite motionless. At length a slight color tinged the livid cheeks. "Help! help!" cried the abbe.--be careful about this. when he immediately laid the sufferer on his bed. taking up the knife. and rigid as a corpse. then. half-supporting him. was soon beside the sick man's couch.

and took his hands. if need be." "The physician may be mistaken!" exclaimed Dantes. which shows that there has been a suffusion of blood on the brain. Cease. not for a time. "lasted but half an hour." said the abbe. are you not?" asked the abbe. "You are convinced now." said the abbe. but forever. "Depend upon it." replied Dantes. The third attack will either carry me off." said he feebly.--and meanwhile your strength will return. two months. and after it I was hungry. no. but. must know as well as I do that a man so loaded would sink before he had done fifty strokes. indeed. "Did you fancy yourself dying?" "No. and he predicted a similar end for me. that . perfectly inanimate and helpless. Lift it. condemns me forever to the walls of a prison." "My good Edmond." said he." "I shall never swim again. We shall save you another time. "Without you? Did you really think me capable of that?" "At least. I thought you might have made your escape. alas! I am fearfully exhausted and debilitated by this attack. now I can move neither my right arm nor leg." answered the abbe. I had no such idea. A sigh escaped him." replied Faria. only with a better chance of success. "And as for your poor arm. Indeed. The attack which has just passed away. both my father and grandfather died of it in a third attack. as we have done this. what difference will that make? I can take you on my shoulders. a month. "you. and judge if I am mistaken." "Well. which fell back by its own weight." "Be of good cheer. or leave me paralyzed for life." "My son. As soon as you feel able to swim we will go. "The last attack I had. Edmond. knowing that all was ready for flight. Alas. for it is a family inheritance. and got up without help. and my head seems uncomfortable. "be not deceived. None can fly from a dungeon who cannot walk. I expected it. I have continually reflected on it. "you are mistaken--you will not die! And your third attack (if." The deep glow of indignation suffused the cheeks of Dantes. The abbe shook his head. and swim for both of us. "I now see how wrong such an opinion would have been. to allow yourself to be duped by vain hopes. you should have another) will find you at liberty.--a week." And as he spoke he seated himself near the bed beside Faria. The physician who prepared for me the remedy I have twice successfully taken. "your strength will return." The young man raised the arm. we will wait. then." cried Dantes. I know what I say. "And why not?" asked the young man. to Dantes. "This arm is paralyzed. was no other than the celebrated Cabanis. Everything is in readiness for our flight."I did not expect to see you again. and we can select any time we choose. Since the first attack I experienced of this malady." "No. because we shall be able to command every requisite assistance. who are a sailor and a swimmer.

a sheet of paper. and set about this work." The sweat started forth on Dantes brow. "Thanks. With his instinctive delicacy Edmond had preferred avoiding any touch on this painful chord." said Dantes. of which. "and I only see a half-burnt paper. Chapter 18. That would bring about a discovery which would inevitably lead to our being separated. "I may now avow to you. he held open in his left hand. one-half belongs to you. "By the blood of Christ I swear never to leave you while you live. hear the hollow sound of his footsteps." "It is well. and call the attention of his officer to the circumstance. but fly--go--I give you back your promise. In the ray of light which entered by the narrow window of his cell. and the young man retired to his task. who are young and active. he slowly added. "What is that?" he inquired." said Faria." Faria gazed fondly on his noble-minded." said the abbe with a smile. my friend. if necessary. in the spirit of obedience and respect which he had sworn to show towards his aged friend. "Then I shall also remain. Until this day and for how long a time!--he had refrained from talking of the treasure. unhappily. quit this place." Dantes took the hand of the abbe in his. in which. in all human probability. I shall have something of the greatest importance to communicate to you. it will be recollected. and that. then. "I accept. it becomes necessary to fill up the excavation beneath the soldier's gallery. Here I shall remain till the hour of my deliverance arrives. I can offer you no assistance. he found Faria seated and looking composed. since I have the proof of your fidelity--this paper is my treasure. and do not return here to-morrow till after the jailer his visited me." "This paper. he retained the use." murmured the invalid. and was not easily kept open. Faria smiled encouragingly on him. which had brought upon the abbe the accusation of madness. and affectionately pressed it. "Look at it. But as I cannot." Then. As for you. He did not speak. You may one of these days reap the reward of your disinterested devotion. will be the hour of my death. delay not on my account. had the form of a cylinder. which. by chance. When Dantes returned next morning to the chamber of his companion in captivity. keep at it all night. single-hearted. and you will not. high-principled young friend. . from this day forth. "I have looked at it with all possible attention. on which are traces of Gothic characters inscribed with a peculiar kind of ink. Go.even your own excellent heart refuses to believe in. and read in his countenance ample confirmation of the sincerity of his devotion and the loyalty of his purpose. extending one hand. but showed the paper to Dantes. The Treasure." said Dantes. from being constantly rolled into a small compass. rising and extending his hand with an air of solemnity over the old man's head. he might. of which alone.

a noble nature. I see you require proofs. by some accident. Edmond.--he read:-"This treasure. of which half was wanting. of Roman crowns in the most distant a.. and taking the paper. but to-day I wish to nurse you carefully. seemed to indicate a serious relapse into mental alienation. "Yes. desirous of not yielding to the old man's madness. Well. "You persist in your incredulity.. your attack has.. of the second opening wh. This treasure exists. 149-" "Well!" said Faria. which I have never shown to any one. and I tasted it slowly in the night of my dungeon and the despair of my captivity. and if I have not been allowed to possess it. indeed." he said. or the next day after. when the young man had finished reading it. "You have.and Faria had been equally silent. had you not better repose awhile? To-morrow." continued Faria. "My dear friend. "I see nothing but broken lines and unconnected words. He had taken the silence of the old man for a return to reason. you will. Yes--you. who must know that I am not. No. but read this paper to-day. "25th April. read this paper." murmured Edmond to himself. Besides." Then he said aloud. I have often thought with a bitter joy that these riches... after so painful a crisis. "I thought it was understood that we should not talk of that until to-morrow." said he. which may amount to two. it is a matter of the utmost importance. and I see by your paleness and agitation what is passing in your heart at this moment. indeed. no doubt. will be forever lost to those men who persecute me." "Then we will not talk of it until to-morrow. Faria smiled. Edmond!" replied the old man. "My words have not convinced you. heir.. which would make the wealth of a dozen families. "Your treasure?" stammered Dantes. if you will." "Alas. and believe me so afterwards if you will.." "On the contrary. my dear friend." replied Dantes. Dantes. "Why. declare to belong to him alo. "this is a terrible relapse! There was only this blow wanting. but you. perhaps.." "To-morrow. now that I see you. I will hear your narrative." said Edmond. I am not mad. "Who knows if to-morrow. But now I have forgiven the world for the love of you. listen to me. "a treasure is not a thing we need hurry about. and now these few words uttered by Faria. young and with a promising future. No one would listen or believe me. and tremble lest I should not assure to one as worthy as yourself the possession of so vast an amount of hidden wealth." . which are rendered illegible by fire." "I will not irritate him.--now that I think of all that may result to you in the good fortune of such a disclosure. then.--having been burnt. fatigued you. because everyone thought me mad. Edmond. This idea was one of vengeance to me. be assured." Edmond turned away his head with a sigh. I shudder at any delay. the third attack may not come on? and then must not all be over? Yes." thought Edmond.

tried to move and get over the distance which separated them." And Dantes. who read them for the first time. although the wealth of his family had passed into a proverb. in fact. and you shall judge for yourself. the last of the princes of that name. His fear was lest the governor. and covered it with a mat in order the more effectually to avoid discovery. was only troubled with a slight indisposition. During this time. hearing of Faria's illness from the jailer. while Faria. not seeing the young man appear. Edmond shuddered when he heard the painful efforts which the old man made to drag himself along. and I heard the phrase very often.' But he." said the abbe. he seated himself on the stool beside him. that he could not understand how so much wisdom on all points could be allied with madness. but first listen to the history of this paper. but not for me. Was Faria deceived as to his treasure." he said with a benignant smile. Faria sat up to receive him. who. "Here I am. touched with pity. for whom in his heart he felt a kind of affection. Faria. and have reconstructed every phrase." Edmond saw there was no escape. or was all the world deceived as to Faria? Dantes remained in his cell all day. "that I was the secretary and intimate friend of Cardinal Spada. so wonderfully sagacious. "You thought to escape my munificence. thinking thus to defer the moment when he should be convinced. pursuing you remorselessly. I owe to this worthy lord all the happiness I ever knew. had been on all points so rational and logical." "And do you believe you have discovered the hidden meaning?" "I am sure I have. Edmond was obliged to assist him. But fortunately this was not the case. towards the evening after the hour for the customary visit had gone by. Edmond." "Silence!" exclaimed Dantes. his leg was inert. 'As rich as a Spada. like public rumor. convinced that the poor madman. and thus separate him from his young companion. might order him to be removed to better quarters. completed every thought. Listen to me. Faria. that the abbe was mad--such a conviction would be so terrible! But. It was the governor. "You know. once for all. who have grown pale over them by many nights' study. restored by his alarm to a certain amount of activity. tried to collect his scattered thoughts. seated on his bed with his head in his hands. avoiding all gestures in order that he might conceal from the governor the paralysis that had already half stricken him with death. pushed the stone into place with his foot. to you. glided like a snake along the narrow passage. since their first acquaintance. "Steps approach--I go--adieu. He was not rich. for otherwise he would not have been able to enter by the small aperture which led to Dantes' chamber. and he could no longer make use of one arm."Yes. had come in person to see him. not daring to return to his friend. lived on . and placing the old man on his bed. my friend. and the governor left him. happy to escape the history and explanation which would be sure to confirm his belief in his friend's mental instability. but it is in vain.

the bite was mortal. something tells me that we shall get that money back. and when he was alone in the world. and the cardinals were consequently invited to dinner. his palace was my paradise. When this was pressed to effect the opening of the cupboard. This key was furnished with a small iron point. and eight other persons paid for the offices the cardinals held before their elevation.' "By choosing two of the greatest personages of Rome. Caesar Borgia. Caesar thought they could make use of one of the means which he always had ready for his friends. and at the end of twenty-four hours. and it was necessary. were the following lines. who had completed his conquest. an indigestion declares itself immediately. Then the pope and Caesar Borgia invited the two cardinals to dinner. he looked at me. King of France. which will appear hereafter. and deploring the prostration of mind that followed them.. which was a matter of great difficulty in the impoverished condition of exhausted Italy. opened a volume relating to the History of the City of Rome. The pope and Caesar Borgia first found the two future cardinals. both felt the high honor of such a favor from the pope. and then he had the two hats to sell besides. Caesar. He determined to make two cardinals. who was formidable still in spite of his recent reverses. I was tutor to his nephews. In the first place. one of the noblest and richest of the Roman nobility. to make up to him all he had done for me during ten years of unremitting kindness. The pope heaped attentions upon Rospigliosi and Spada. and. replied: 'Now as to the worthy cardinals. This was a matter of dispute between the holy father and his son. let us ask both of them to dinner. . in the first place. in the twentieth chapter of the Life of Pope Alexander VI.this reputation for wealth.' Caesar gave way before such cogent reasoning. I had often seen my noble patron annotating ancient volumes. conferred upon them the insignia of the cardinalate. while a prick or a bite occasions a delay of a day or two. especially rich men--this was the return the holy father looked for. had need of money to purchase all Italy. but Alexander VI. which I can never forget:-"'The great wars of Romagna had ended. they were Giovanni Rospigliosi. and died next day. of which the lock was difficult. The result was. There was a third point in view. that they should either ask the cardinals to open the cupboard. he could sell the great appointments and splendid offices which the cardinals already held. and induced them to arrange their affairs and take up their residence at Rome. you forget. that is to say. which Caesar wore when he wanted to greet his friends with a clasp of the hand. and eagerly searching amongst dusty family manuscripts. and Caesar Spada. Spada and Rospigliosi. therefore. and Caesar Borgia soon found purchasers for their appointments. The lion bit the hand thus favored. Then there was the ring with the lion's head. His holiness had an idea. that Rospigliosi and Spada paid for being cardinals..--a negligence on the part of the locksmith. One day when I was reproaching him for his unavailing searches. who are dead. "It is time now to proceed to the last part of the speculation. and thus eight hundred thousand crowns entered into the coffers of the speculators. the person was pricked by this small point. Caesar proposed to his father. The pope had also need of money to bring matters to an end with Louis XII. to have recourse to some profitable scheme. There. the famous key which was given to certain persons with the request that they go and open a designated cupboard. They were ambitious. who held four of the highest dignities of the Holy See. or shake hands with them. Besides. smiling bitterly. The cardinal's house had no secrets for me. I tried by absolute devotion to his will.

perfectly comprehending the meaning of the question. but found nothing. a prudent man. and. "Spada knew what these invitations meant. The first sight that attracted the eyes of Spada was that of his nephew. Then. there is a will.' "They sought even more thoroughly than the august heirs had done. scarcely noticed in history. 'Caesar wills that you die. poisoned at the same time. The pope awaited him. who came with a smile on his lips to say from the pope. It was too late. Spada at the same moment saw another bottle approach him. since Christianity. but it was fruitless. and about the same in ready money. which proved that he had anticipated all. But the inheritance consisted in this only. the rich man. 'His holiness requests you to dine with him. An hour afterwards a physician declared they were both poisoned through eating mushrooms. which he was pressed to taste. That was all. which I beg he will preserve in remembrance of his affectionate uncle. for he had already drunk a glass of excellent wine. so eminently civilizing.' but it was a legate a latere. escaped by shedding his skin like a snake. examined. and the two palaces and the vineyard remained to the family since they were beneath the rapacity of the pope and his son. and were greatly astonished that Spada. not exceeding a few thousand crowns in plate. Caesar.' "Spada set out about two o'clock to San Pierdarena. but the new skin was spotted by the poison till it looked like a tiger's. placed for him expressly by the pope's butler. in full costume. took paper and pen. Rospigliosi. went with a good appetite and his most ingratiating manner.--you know by what mistake. my books. Spada died on the threshold of the vineyard. amongst others. or at least very little. compelled to quit Rome. and greatly attached to his only nephew. Spada. near San Pierdarena. making signs which his wife could not comprehend. laid hands on the furniture. They began dinner and Spada was only able to inquire of his nephew if he had received his message. a young captain of the highest promise. a scrap of paper on which Spada had written:--'I bequeath to my beloved nephew my coffers. "Then Caesar and the pope hastened to lay hands on the heritage. as Caesar looked at him with an ironical air. He then sent word to his nephew to wait for him near the vineyard. Caesar and his father searched. and made his will. the nephew expired at his own door. died. but in these days landed property had not much value. and Caesar Borgia paying him most marked attentions. Months and years rolled on. under presence of seeking for the papers of the dead man. contained in the library and laboratories. but the nephew had time to say to his wife before he expired: 'Look well among my uncle's papers. but it appeared the servant did not find him. quite set up with his new dignities. Spada turned pale. admired the breviary. my breviary with the gold corners. poisoned. was really the most miserable of uncles--no treasures--unless they were those of science. Alexander VI. a charming retreat which the cardinals knew very well by report. it was no longer a centurion who came from the tyrant with a message. There were two palaces and a vineyard behind the Palatine Hill. had made progress in Rome. scrutinized. The nephew replied no. and that the snare was well spread. After the pope's death and his son's exile."The table was laid in a vineyard belonging to the pope. he went and got himself obscurely killed in a night skirmish.' "The heirs sought everywhere. it was supposed that the Spada family would resume the splendid position they had held before the cardinal's .

I found--nothing. on condition that I would have anniversary masses said for the repose of his soul. the papers I was arranging. My patron died. a month before I was arrested. for the palace was sold to a stranger. It was an illuminated book. had caused it to be regarded as a genuine relic. I was reading. intending to take with me twelve thousand francs I possessed. and his famous breviary. no doubt. "At the sight of papers of all sorts. but could only trace the acquisition of the property of the Cardinal Rospigliosi. others diplomatists. eh?" "Oh. with beautiful Gothic characters. He had reserved from his annuity his family papers. "In 1807. and a fortnight after the death of the Count of Spada. The Spadas remained in doubtful ease. All these he bequeathed to me. for the sole purpose of assuring myself whether any increase of fortune had occurred to them on the death of the Cardinal Caesar Spada. ransacked. that Caesar. and I advised him to invest all he had in an annuity." "I will. interrupting the thread of his narrative. but in spite of the most exhaustive researches. parchments. whose secretary I was--the Count of Spada. I had even written a precise history of the Borgia family. that a servant always carried it before the cardinal on days of great solemnity. stewards. I come now to the last of the family. and the public rumor was. It was useless. He did so. on the 25th of December (you will see presently how the date became fixed in my memory). counted." "The family began to get accustomed to their obscurity. because Cardinal Rospigliosi. I searched. and I was going to leave Rome and settle at Florence. for the thousandth time. but had remained unpossessed like the treasures of the Arabian Nights. go on. we are near the conclusion." cried Dantes. composed of five thousand volumes. my friend. I in my turn examined the immense bundles of documents. "Up to this point. and was in the count's possession. calculated a thousand and a thousand times the income and expenditure of the family for three hundred years. some grew rich.--titles." said Faria. Yet I had read. which were kept in the archives of the family. which he had in ready money. which slept in the bosom of the earth under the eyes of the genie. my . Be easy. It had been handed down from father to son. for the singular clause of the only will that had been found. "on the contrary. "this seems to you very meaningless. my dear Edmond. a mystery hung over this dark affair. Years rolled on. but this was not the case. I say the two. and amongst the descendants some were soldiers. with a thousand Roman crowns. preserved in the family with superstitious veneration. and the Count of Spada in his poverty. I remained in my ignorance. who had not taken any precaution. All this I did scrupulously. contracts. had carried off from the pope the fortune of the two cardinals. like twenty servitors. and thus doubled his income.time. some churchmen. was completely despoiled. and so weighty with gold. and that I would draw up a genealogical tree and history of his house. I beg of you. his library. "I was then almost assured that the inheritance had neither profited the Borgias nor the family. secretaries before me. his companion in misfortune. all descending from the poisoned cardinal. and some were ruined. I had often heard him complain of the disproportion of his rank with his fortune. some bankers. a better politician than his father. The celebrated breviary remained in the family. it seems as if I were reading a most interesting narrative.

. which Edmond read as follows:-". twisted it up together. I raised my head. an old paper quite yellow with age. Dantes. .. which treasure I bequeath and leave en. I took a wax-candle in one hand.... and putting it into the expiring flame. which . Island of Monte Cristo. gems..ing invited to dine by his Holiness ..essed of ingots. I felt for it. and with the other groped about for a piece of paper (my match-box being empty). and which had served as a marker for centuries. I hesitated for a moment. which was on the table beside me. jewels... Two open.. in these caves. will find on raising the twentieth ro. Guido Spada . I rang for a light.. my sole heir.. .. 1498. may amount to nearly two mil. my head dropped on my hands. be. "Caes.. and opened the crumpled paper with inexpressible emotion. who this time read the following words.. who were poisoned.content with making me pay for my hat. and then I will complete for you the incomplete words and unconnected sense. and I fell asleep about three o'clock in the afternoon. and re.. tired with my constant labor at the same thing.. however. in proportion as the fire ascended. that these characters had been traced in mysterious and sympathetic ink. when I had done so.. when.library. set light to it.. in. read it again.I declare to my nephew... that I alone.." said the abbe. traced with an ink of a reddish color resembling rust:-"This 25th day of April. Alexander VI... I determined to find one for myself. with which I proposed to get a light from the small flame still playing on the embers..know of the existence of this treasure. recognizing. and fearing that not.. "25th April... and has visited with me. and Bentivoglio. and overcome by a heavy dinner I had eaten..ried in a place he knows . I saw yellowish characters appear on the paper.. he may desire to become my heir. "And now. It was that paper you read this morning. that is. It was indeed but anticipating the simple manners which I should soon be under the necessity of adopting.. that I have bu. and the famous breviary. the treasure is in the furthest a. nearly one-third of the paper had been consumed by the flame. kept there by the request of the heirs.. gold. as if by magic. offered the paper to Dantes.. found it. to make use of any valuable piece of paper. only appearing when exposed to the fire. I grasped it in my hand. creek to the east in a right line. money. as my sole heir..... Fearing... "But beneath my fingers. then recollected that I had seen in the famous breviary. I was in utter darkness. 1498.. lighted my taper in the fire itself..serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara . I awoke as the clock was striking six. all I poss..the caves of the small . put out the flame as quickly as I could." and he presented to Dantes a second leaf with fragments of lines written on it." Faria. with an air of triumph. but as no one came. diamonds..... "read this other paper.

.ings have been made . quite contrary to what Napoleon desired so soon as he had a son born to him." "And what did you do when you arrived at this conclusion?" "I resolved to set out.ings have been made in these caves. that I have bu.." inquired Dantes hesitating. jewels. "25th April. yes!" "And who completed it as it now is?" "I did.content with making me pay for my hat. wished for a partition of provinces) had their eyes on me. and which he will find on raising the twentieth ro.. my sole heir... 1498.lions of Roman crowns. still incredulous...ngle in the second. that I alone.. 1498. if I die here. do you comprehend now?" inquired Faria... which treasure I bequeath and leave en..... addressing Dantes with an almost paternal expression.. "put the two fragments together. the unity of the Italian kingdom.ssed of ingots.lions of Roman crowns. that is.tire to him as my sole heir.. Two open. be. he may desire to become my heir. a thousand times. "has this treasure no more legitimate possessor in the world than ourselves?" .. and fearing that not.." he said. the treasure is in the furthest a. "and now. and the conjointed pieces gave the following:-"This 25th day of April.know of the existence of this treasure." continued Faria. and judge for yourself." Faria followed him with an excited look....tire to him .. "It is the declaration of Cardinal Spada. and did set out at that very instant." "But. money.. I guessed the rest. I was arrested at the very moment I was leaving Piombino....ck from the small creek to the east in a right line.serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara and Bentivoglio..ar Spada. my dear fellow.. in.ing invited to dine by his Holiness Alexander VI. "Now.I declare to my nephew." "Well." replied Edmond... diamonds.ngle in the second. the whole belongs to you.. carrying with me the beginning of my great work. measuring the length of the lines by those of the paper. gems. the cause of which they were unable to guess. and you escape alone.ck from the small . and re. "Yes.... "Caes. which may amount to nearly two mil.. having aroused their suspicions. and which he .ar Spada.ried in a place he knows and has visited with me." Dantes obeyed. "now.. when he saw that Dantes had read the last line. gold. as we are guided in a cavern by the small ray of light above us. . and the will so long sought for. and divining the hidden meaning by means of what was in part revealed.. and my hasty departure.the caves of the small Island of Monte Cristo all I poss. half this treasure is yours. who were poisoned. Guido Spada.. Aided by the remaining fragment.... but for some time the imperial police (who at this period.. you know as much as I do myself. If we ever escape together.

" [*] * $2. a man could do in these days to his friends. which had so long been the object of the abbe's meditations." he added. "Impossible!" said Dantes. and then Dantes' countenance became gloomy. no. "and to you only. and still is." exclaimed the old man. Chapter 19. such accumulations of gold and jewels were by no means rare." continued Faria. at one and the same time. My profession condemns me to celibacy. "You are the child of my captivity."No. The abbe did not know the Island of Monte Cristo. and had once touched there. always had been. "that I might test your character. and the prisoner who could not get free. explaining to Dantes all the good which. moreover. Had we escaped before my attack of catalepsy. handed down by entail." Edmond thought he was in a dream--he wavered between incredulity and joy. but Dantes knew it. and which they cannot touch.000 in 1894. Now that this treasure. nearly thirteen millions of our money. bequeathing to me this symbolic breviary. The Third Attack. situated twenty-five miles from Pianosa." "You are my son. It is a rock of almost conical form. though possessed of nearly a million in diamonds and jewels. he bequeathed to me all it contained. with a sigh. you do not thank me?" "This treasure belongs to you. I am no relation of yours. which looks as though it had been thrust up by volcanic force from the depth to the surface of the ocean." 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. in these times. a man with thirteen or fourteen millions could do to his enemies. between Corsica and the Island of Elba. and had often passed it. and every day he expatiated on the amount. no. no. make your mind satisfied on that point. now. "The Spada family was one of the oldest and most powerful families of the fifteenth century. and he reflected how much ill. "I have only kept this secret so long from you. for the oath of vengeance he had taken recurred to his memory.600. This island was. completely deserted. Dantes . my dear friend. with thirteen or fourteen millions of francs. Well. it had doubled its value in his eyes. when other opportunities for investment were wanting. there are at this day Roman families perishing of hunger. Dantes. the man who could not be a father. I have no right to it. If we lay hands on this fortune. Dantes. made me his heir. the family is extinct." replied Dantes." "And you say this treasure amounts to"-"Two millions of Roman crowns. and then surprise you. I should have conducted you to Monte Cristo. and in those times. The last Count of Spada. "it is you who will conduct me thither. be easy on that score. staggered at the enormous amount. we may enjoy it without remorse. could insure the future happiness of him whom Faria really loved as a son. "Impossible? and why?" asked the old man. God has sent you to me to console.

which had given rise to the suspicion of his madness. and this--this is my fortune--not chimerical. and now I could not break my promise if I would. To have you as long as possible near me. and take comfort. still existed. my beloved friend. if not actually happy. he remained paralyzed in the right arm and the left leg. was rebuilt." Thus. Faria." said the young man. even Caesar Borgia himself. which had long been in ruins. if I should ever be free. Then he destroyed the second portion. and neither of us will quit this prison. As he had prophesied would be the case. and more inexorable barrier was interposed to cut off the realization of their hopes. But Dantes was far from being as enthusiastic and confident as the old man. the languages you have implanted in my memory. with an air of sorrowful resignation.--so fills my whole existence. this is better for me than tons of gold and cases of diamonds. and though he considered the treasure as by no means chimerical. in spite of our jailers. who for so long a time had kept silence as to the treasure. and they would undoubtedly have been separated. They had repaired it completely. and making them understand that they were condemned to perpetual imprisonment. the gallery on the sea side. and Faria gave Dantes advice as to the means he should employ to recover the treasure. he compelled Dantes to learn it by heart.drew a plan of the island for Faria. "that God deems it right to take from me any claim to merit for what you call my devotion to you. my present happiness. These different sciences that you have made so easy to me by the depth of the knowledge you possess of them.--which embellishes my mind. which. the misfortune would have been still greater. which awaits me beneath the sombre rocks of Monte Cristo. The treasure will be no more mine than yours. and Dantes knew it from the first to the last word. yet the days these two unfortunates passed together went quickly. it will be remembered. a stronger. our living together five or six hours a day. But for this precaution. It was past a question now that Faria was not a lunatic. and which have taken root there with all their philological ramifications. assured that if the first were seized. a new misfortune befell them. and all the sovereigns of the earth. has no longer any hold over me. and which evaporate and vanish as we draw near to them. Thus a new. and stopped up with vast masses of stone the hole Dantes had partly filled in. But he was continually thinking over some means of escape for his young companion. the abbe had made to Edmond. but at the same time Dantes could not believe that the deposit. Whole hours sometimes passed while . increased Edmond's admiration of him. even were they not as problematical as the clouds we see in the morning floating over the sea. Believe me. now perpetually talked of it. and with this you have made me rich and happy. to hear your eloquent speech. For fear the letter might be some day lost or stolen. no one would be able to discover its real meaning. that the despair to which I was just on the point of yielding when I knew you. I owe you my real good. to Faria. for their attempt to escape would have been detected. and the way in which he had achieved the discovery. it is the rays of intelligence you have elicited from my brain. However. and anticipating the pleasure he would enjoy. I have promised to remain forever with you. but actual. and makes my whole frame capable of great and terrible things. and the clearness of the principles to which you have reduced them--this is my treasure. "You see. it is your presence. he yet believed it was no longer there. which we take for terra firma. my dear friend. supposing it had ever existed. But my real treasure is not that. strengthens my soul. and had given up all hope of ever enjoying it himself. as if fate resolved on depriving the prisoners of their last chance. could not deprive me of this.

and once there. quite out of his senses. and remain there alone under some pretext which would arouse no suspicions. 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. Perhaps he will be young. taught his youthful companion the patient and sublime duty of a prisoner. do you not. he could have but one only thought. for fear of recalling the almost extinct past which now only floated in his memory like a distant light wandering in the night. strong. At length providence has done something for you." he said. He sat up in bed and a cold sweat broke out upon his brow. Besides. my dear friend. and.--Faria. and I need not attempt to explain to you?" Edmond uttered a cry of agony. and reached the opposite extremity. Faria. like yourself. once free. and the results would be instantly destroyed if our jailers knew we had communicated with each other. It would require years to do again what I have done here." murmured Edmond. the secret entrance was open. "can it be?" He moved his bed. He opened his eyes upon utter darkness. exclaiming. which found vent when Faria was left alone. some other unfortunate being will soon take my place. and to him you will appear like an angel of salvation. But beneath this superficial calm there were in the heart of the young man. and so act as to render your captivity supportable or your flight possible. "Alas. You will no longer have half a dead body tied to you as a drag to all your movements. but yet erect. rushed towards the door. and which had so seriously alarmed him when he saw them for the first time. They were thus perpetually employed. had regained all the clearness of his understanding. and had gradually.--instructions which were to serve him when he was at liberty. being the farthest angle in the second opening." . and will aid you in your escape. while I have been but a hindrance. that he might not see himself grow old. One night Edmond awoke suddenly. Dantes saw the old man. at least tolerably. many repressed desires. His name. he restores to you more than he takes away. my dear friend. Then. clinging to the bedstead.Faria was giving instructions to Dantes. In the meanwhile the hours passed. and perhaps in that of the old man. and it was time I should die. many stifled sighs. believing that he heard some one calling him. rushed into the passage. His features were writhing with those horrible symptoms which he already knew. "Silence. drew up the stone. my dear Edmond. which was. We must now only think of you. help!" Faria had just sufficient strength to restrain him.--the appointed spot. of which we have spoken. to endeavor to find the wonderful caverns. who learns to make something from nothing. pale. By the light of the wretched and wavering lamp. without having recovered the use of his hand and foot. to gain Monte Cristo by some means. from the day and hour and moment when he was so. and enduring. or rather a plaintive voice which essayed to pronounce his name. be assured. the dungeon I am about to leave will not long remain empty. besides the moral instructions we have detailed. Dantes. "Help. "Alas." said Faria in a resigned tone. if not rapidly. and search in the appointed spot. as we have said. reached him. "you understand. "or you are lost. Undoubtedly the call came from Faria's dungeon. be it remembered. and when Edmond returned to his cell.

shaking his head. his heart wrung with anguish. I listen. I see it in the depths of the inner cavern. my friend. and in a quarter of an hour there will be nothing left of me but a corpse. Quick. then pour the rest down my throat. Dantes raised his head and saw Faria's eyes injected with blood.--you whom heaven gave me somewhat late. should do all in his power to preserve that existence." he exclaimed. "there remains still some of the magic draught." said Faria. my friend. and laid him on the bed. "sole consolation of my wretched existence. to what I say in this my dying moment. he said. in five minutes the malady will reach its height. quick! tell me what I must do this time." replied Faria. God grants me the boon of vision unrestricted by time or space.Edmond could only clasp his hands and exclaim.--at the moment of separating from you forever. however painful it may be. and his strength. I have saved you once. and I will save you a second time!" And raising the foot of the bed. speak not thus!" and then resuming all his presence of mind. all the springs of life are now exhausted in me. which. and are dazzled at the sight of so much riches. remember that the poor abbe. for I can no longer support myself. I wish you all the happiness and all the prosperity you so well deserve. was not so. you see that I do not recover. My eyes pierce the inmost recesses of the earth." "Oh!" exclaimed Dantes. My son. yes. leaning his head against the old man's bed. "has but half its work to do." "There is not a hope. "Do as you did before." Edmond took the old man in his arms. "and I tell you that I will save you yet. whom all the world called mad." he continued. and for which I am most grateful. and death. clasping Edmond's hand convulsively--"adieu!" . are there any fresh instructions? Speak. "Adieu. my dear friend." "Oh. he drew out the phial. but still gave me. The cold gains upon me. Now lift me on my bed. still a third filled with the red liquor. try. "And now. only do not wait so long. which had failed at the words of the old man. my friend. is yet always so dear. "Oh." A violent convulsion attacked the old man. then. "Listen. "but no matter. Hasten to Monte Cristo--avail yourself of the fortune--for you have indeed suffered long enough. "See. looking at his paralyzed arm and leg. If. which had for a moment staggered under this blow. after having made me swallow twelve drops instead of ten. These horrible chills. begin to pervade my whole frame. It seemed as if a flow of blood had ascended from the chest to the head. a priceless gift. now. If you do escape. which make my teeth chatter and seem to dislocate my bones. and in whose heart he has so profoundly rooted the love of life. The treasure of the Spadas exists. God wills it that man whom he has created. I bless thee!" The young man cast himself on his knees. adieu!" murmured the old man. I feel the blood flowing towards my brain. yes!" exclaimed Dantes. "Oh." "Well.

--no change took place. not yet. Then he thought it was time to make the last trial. he poured the whole of the liquid down his throat. whence its tremulous light fell with strange and fantastic ray on the distorted countenance and motionless. closing as well as he could the entrance to the secret passage by the large stone as he descended. you do not seem to be in such agony as you were before. The crisis was terrible. his hair erect. pried open the teeth. until at length it stopped."Oh. yes. I suffer less because there is in me less strength to endure. but old men see death more clearly. lay on the bed of torture. At your age we have faith in life. and during this period of anguish. twice as much more. he took the knife. Oh. Strange shadows passed over the countenance of the dead man.--no. placed it on a projecting stone above the bed. Dantes! Adieu--adieu!" And raising himself by a final effort. a violent trembling pervaded the old man's limbs. succor him! Help--help--help!" "Hush--hush!" murmured the dying man. the dawn was just breaking. yes. Edmond leaned over his friend. Then an invincible and extreme terror seized upon him. When he believed that the right moment had arrived. it is the privilege of youth to believe and hope. swollen eyelids. While the struggle between day and night lasted. he counted the seconds by the beating of his heart. Half an hour. forget not Monte Cristo!" And he fell back on the bed. He waited ten minutes. the last movement of the heart ceased. "do not forsake me! Oh. his brow bathed with perspiration. but in vain--they opened again as soon as shut. although you suffer much. he saw that he was alone with a corpse. "that they may not separate us if you save me!" "You are right. no. which offered less resistance than before. Dantes took the lamp. He extinguished the lamp. the eyes remained open. the phial contained. in place of the intellectual being who so lately rested there. half an hour. he heaved a sigh which resembled a shriek. and the heart's pulsation become more and more deep and dull. and at times gave it the appearance of life. he said. and he put the phial to the purple lips of Faria. and without having occasion to force open his jaws. and then went away. and then his convulsed body returned gradually to its former immobility. but the eyeballs were glazed. and a rigid form with twisted limbs. a quarter of an hour. With steady gaze he awaited confidently the moment for administering the restorative. he dared no longer to gaze on those fixed and vacant eyes. and lips flecked with bloody foam. the face became livid. his eyes opened until it was fearful to gaze upon them. Dantes still doubted. be assured I shall save you! Besides. an hour. and its feeble ray came into the dungeon. Oh.--"Monte Cristo. 'tis here--'tis here--'tis over--my sight is gone--my senses fail! Your hand. and felt the body gradually grow cold. in which he summoned all his faculties. and watched. Trembling." he cried. perhaps. and he dared not again press the hand that hung out of bed. his hand applied to his heart. which he tried many times to close. carefully concealed it. the eyes remaining open. counted one after the other twelve drops. . It was six o'clock in the morning." "Do not mistake. but as soon as the daylight gained the pre-eminence. stiffened body. an hour and a half elapsed. which had remained extended. The draught produced a galvanic effect. and paled the ineffectual light of the lamp.

He remained. replying to the assurance of the doctor.It was time. Nothing betokened that the man knew anything of what had occurred. inoffensive prisoner. Good journey to him!" "With all his millions. for he was a quiet. He therefore returned by the subterraneous gallery. therefore. At the end of an hour." "They may give him the honors of the sack. "as he was a churchman. well. he heard a faint noise. "there was no occasion for watching him: he would have stayed here fifty years. he will not have enough to pay for his shroud!" said another. I'll answer for it. On this occasion he began his rounds at Dantes' cell. Last of all came the governor. who asked them to throw water on the dead man's face. "Well. and required no watching. mute and motionless." "Ah. He went on his way. for he felt that all the world should have for the poor abbe a love and respect equal to his own." said the governor. . who called out for help. There was a moment's silence. they may go to some expense in his behalf. Dantes was then seized with an indescribable desire to know what was going on in the dungeon of his unfortunate friend. "I believe it will be requisite." added the turnkey. and on leaving him he went on to Faria's dungeon. hardly venturing to breathe. as they might have left some turnkey to watch the dead. The voices soon ceased. Other turnkeys came. It was the governor who returned. and it seemed to him as if every one had left the cell." Edmond did not lose a word. without any attempt to escape. "that the old man is really dead. The doctor analyzed the symptoms of the malady to which the prisoner had succumbed." added a third voice. mingled with brutal laughter. and seeing that. which increased. the prisoner did not recover. and arrived in time to hear the exclamations of the turnkey. heard the voice of the governor.--it was evident that the doctor was examining the dead body." said one of the previous speakers. The governor then went out." said one. in spite of this application. "Oh. followed by the doctor and other attendants. but comprehended very little of what was said." said the governor. Still he dared not to enter. Questions and answers followed in a nonchalant manner that made Dantes indignant. Edmond heard the creaking of the bed as they moved the corpse. "I am very sorry for what you tell me. taking thither breakfast and some linen. and declared that he was dead. "the madman has gone to look after his treasure. and words of pity fell on Dantes' listening ears. and then was heard the regular tramp of soldiers. happy in his folly. "the shrouds of the Chateau d'If are not dear!" "Perhaps. The inquiries soon commenced." "Still. for the jailer was coming. they sent for the doctor.

"but really it is a useless precaution. as he said. sir. as to finish your duty by fulfilling the formalities described by law. the bed creaked. but on that.notwithstanding your certainty. "You see. and he felt as if he should faint. One day. The poor fool is cured of his folly. make your mind easy. it was an ancient name. But make haste--I cannot stay here all day." "Let the irons be heated. were now heard." "Wasn't his name Faria?" inquired one of the officers who accompanied the governor. indeed. too." Other footsteps. sir. and the heavy footfall of a man who lifts a weight sounded on the floor. In spite of all appearances." replied the jailer." said the doctor. "that we are not content in such cases as this with such a simple examination. still listening. he gave me a prescription which cured her. governor. "You had never anything to complain of?" said the governor to the jailer who had charge of the abbe. "Certainly. "You may make your mind easy. Will that satisfy you?" "Must this last formality take place in your presence." "It is the sort of malady which we call monomania. He was. persisting." This order to heat the irons made Dantes shudder." There was a moment of complete silence. I will answer for that. yes. but in discharge of my official duty. of which the peculiar and nauseous smell penetrated even behind the wall where Dantes was listening in horror. and a moment afterwards the noise of rustling canvas reached Dantes' ears. "Never. and delivered from his captivity. saying. The perspiration poured forth upon the young man's brow." "You know. sir. when my wife was ill. he was intractable. and. knew that the doctor was examining the corpse a second time." said the doctor. "this burn in the heel is decisive. He heard hasty steps. the creaking of a door. he shall be decently interred in the newest sack we can find. and not that I doubt your science.-"Here is the brazier. "never. that we should be perfectly assured that the prisoner is dead. then the bed again creaked under the weight deposited upon it. and then was heard the crackling of burning flesh. he is really dead." said the doctor. too. "I did not know that I had a rival. lighted. . that you will show him all proper respect." "Yes." said the governor. be so kind. "Yes. on the contrary. and some minutes afterwards a turnkey entered. very learned. during which Dantes. sir. he sometimes amused me very much by telling me stories. ah!" said the doctor. therefore." "Ah. people going and coming. but I hope. sir?" inquired a turnkey." There was a moment's silence. going and coming." said the doctor. and rational enough on all points which did not relate to his treasure. "he is dead.

Chapter 20. Then he raised the flag-stone cautiously with his head. But how to die? It is very easy. Everything was in readiness. which was all-pervasive. it was Faria's last winding-sheet. when the task was ended. Alone--he was alone again--again condemned to silence--again face to face with nothingness! Alone!--never again to see the face. "The chaplain of the chateau came to me yesterday to beg for leave of absence. no longer could he clasp the hand which had done so much to make his existence blessed. as the turnkey said. in order to take a trip to Hyeres for a week. and a silence more sombre than that of solitude ensued. and faintly illuminated by the pale light that came from the window. and should assuredly find him again. after all--to solve the problem of life at its source."This evening." "Pooh. the noise of the door. "This evening. The Cemetery of the Chateau D'If. It was empty. "he is a churchman. "That is impossible. No longer could Edmond look into those wide-open eyes which had seemed to be penetrating the mysteries of death. which his friend had driven away and kept away by his cheerful presence. Meanwhile the operation of putting the body in the sack was going on. "If I could die. Faria. cost so little." said the doctor." replied the governor.--a winding-sheet which." "Shall we watch by the corpse?" "Of what use would it be? Shut the dungeon as if he were alive--that is all. I told him I would attend to the prisoners in his absence. he might have had his requiem. never again to hear the voice of the only human being who united him to earth! Was not Faria's fate the better. "At what hour?" inquired a turnkey. and the voices died away in the distance. If the poor abbe had not been in such a hurry. and under its rude folds was stretched a long and stiffened form. about ten or eleven o'clock. "Why." he said. and looked carefully around the chamber. pooh. On the bed. even at the risk of horrible suffering? The idea of suicide. the beneficent and cheerful companion.--the silence of death." he went on . God will respect his profession." said the governor. "Will there be any mass?" asked one of the attendants. A barrier had been placed between Dantes and his old friend. now hovered like a phantom over the abbe's dead body. with whom he was accustomed to live so intimately. and struck its icy chill to the very soul of Dantes. lay a sack of canvas. at full length. with the impiety usual in persons of his profession. and not give the devil the wicked delight of sending him a priest. no longer breathed. and Dantes emerged from the tunnel." Then the steps retreated. "I should go where he goes. He seated himself on the edge of that terrible bed." said the governor. with its creaking hinges and bolts ceased." A shout of laughter followed this brutal jest. and fell into melancholy and gloomy revery.

Dantes might have waited until the evening visit was over. and bore it along the tunnel to his own chamber. but he had not thought of hunger. he meant to open the sack from top to bottom. No. after having lived and suffered so long and so much! Die? yes. let me take the place of the dead!" Without giving himself time to reconsider his decision. that he might not allow his thoughts to be distracted from his desperate resolution. he bent over the appalling shroud. Dantes recoiled from the idea of so infamous a death. he became silent and gazed straight before him like one overwhelmed with a strange and amazing thought. when he brought the evening meal. escape. turned the head towards the wall. too. and then paused abruptly by the bed. indeed. In that case his last hope would have been destroyed. lifted his hand to his brow as if his brain were giddy. he would be stifled. "Just God!" he muttered. but with a sudden cut of the knife. no. if by any mischance the jailers had entered at that moment. he would use his knife to better purpose. and sewed up the mouth of the sack from the inside. If while he was being carried out the grave-diggers should discover that they were bearing a live instead of a dead body. to give way to the sarcasm of destiny. and then--so much the better. Now his plans were fully made. I want to live. I will yet win back the happiness of which I have been deprived. "Die? oh." he exclaimed--"not die now. and order the dead body to be removed earlier. so that the jailer might. drew the bed against the wall. "whence comes this thought? Is it from thee? Since none but the dead pass freely from this dungeon. and perhaps.with a smile. which glared horribly. I shall struggle to the very last. He would have been discovered by the beating of his heart. the grave-diggers could scarcely have turned their backs before he would have worked his way through the yielding soil and escaped. but now to die would be. Suddenly he arose. returned to the other cell. as was his frequent custom. covered it with his counterpane. all would be over. and passed suddenly from despair to an ardent desire for life and liberty. that they might feel only naked flesh beneath the coarse canvas. as it was night. profiting by their alarm. strangle him. paced twice or thrice round the dungeon. laid it on his couch. but he was afraid that the governor would change his mind. and tried vainly to close the resisting eyes. Dantes had not eaten since the preceding evening. indeed. and then they will guillotine me." But excessive grief is like a storm at sea. took from the hiding-place the needle and thread. entered the tunnel again. and. once again kissed the ice-cold brow. placed himself in the posture in which the dead body had been laid. drew the corpse from the sack. if they tried to catch him. nor . "I will remain here. had I died years ago. flung off his rags. who knows. Before I die I must not forget that I have my executioners to punish. he would allow himself to be covered with earth. and. If he was detected in this and the earth proved too heavy. rush on the first person that opens the door. believe that he was asleep. and this is what he intended to do. where the frail bark is tossed from the depths to the top of the wave. If they took him to the cemetery and laid him in a grave. some friends to reward. and I shall die in my dungeon like Faria. and getting inside the sack. Dantes did not intend to give them time to recognize him. opened it with the knife which Faria had made." As he said this. tied around its head the rag he wore at night around his own. He hoped that the weight of earth would not be so great that he could not overcome it. Yet they will forget me here. and then.

ascended the stairs. "He's heavy though for an old and thin man. "Really. and Dantes knew that he had escaped the first peril. when he brought him his supper at seven o'clock. It was a sensation in which pleasure and pain were strangely mingled. "What would be the use of carrying so much more weight?" was the reply. while. Yet the hours passed on without any unusual disturbance. Dantes' agony really began. he is by no means a light load!" said the other bearer. twenty times at least. approaching the ends of the bed. a third remaining at the door with a torch in its hand." said one. They deposited the supposed corpse on the bier. and would have been happy if at the same time he could have repressed the throbbing of his veins. Edmond felt that the moment had arrived.did he think of it now. and went away without saying a word. . and then the party. that the jailer. from misanthropy or fatigue. with the other he wiped the perspiration from his temples. and then the man placed his bread and soup on the table. might perceive the change that had been made. and clutched his heart in a grasp of ice. and a dim light reached Dantes' eyes through the coarse sack that covered him. he saw two shadows approach his bed. Then he thought he was going to die. when he heard the noise they made in putting down the hand-bier. and Dantes heard his shoes striking on the pavement. From time to time chills ran through his whole body. Dantes had received his jailer in bed." said another. took the sack by its extremities. Dantes' first impulse was to escape. as he raised the head. This time the jailer might not be as silent as usual. "I can do that when we get there. lifting the feet. and Dantes knew that the mistral was blowing. At length. putting the bier down on the ground. It was a good augury. "Where am I?" he asked himself. The footsteps--they were double--paused at the door--and Dantes guessed that the two grave-diggers had come to seek him--this idea was soon converted into certainty." replied the companion. "They say every year adds half a pound to the weight of the bones. His situation was too precarious to allow him even time to reflect on any thought but one. When seven o'clock came. but fortunately he did not attempt it. but speak to Dantes." "Yes. The first risk that Dantes ran was. summoned up all his courage. held his breath. and thus discover all. then stopped. The bearers went on for twenty paces. you're right. fortunately. His hand placed upon his heart was unable to redress its throbbings. One of them went away. Edmond stiffened himself in order to play the part of a dead man. sitting on the edge of the hand-barrow. go to the bed. about the hour the governor had appointed. "Have you tied the knot?" inquired the first speaker. Suddenly he felt the fresh and sharp night air. "What's the knot for?" thought Dantes. The two men. lighted by the man with the torch. and seeing that he received no reply. who went first. footsteps were heard on the stairs. The door opened.

and pretty tight too. although stunned and almost suffocated." And the bier was lifted once more. and then stopped to open a door. Chapter 21. the man came towards Edmond. "One!" said the grave-diggers." 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. "Here it is at last. who heard a heavy metallic substance laid down beside him. then. but his hair stood erect on his head. had sufficient presence ." said one of them. it seemed to him as if the fall lasted for a century. dashed on the rocks. "You know very well that the last was stopped on his way. "but it has lost nothing by waiting. Dantes did not comprehend the jest. At last. "The spade." he said. although not asked in the most polite terms. and then Dantes felt that they took him. he darted like an arrow into the ice-cold water. reached Dantes' ear distinctly as they went forward." The man with the torch complied. "not a pleasant night for a dip in the sea. falling."Give us a light. "A little farther--a little farther." was the answer. The noise of the waves dashing against the rocks on which the chateau is built." "Why." said the other. They advanced fifty paces farther. and the governor told us next day that we were careless fellows." said the other. stifled in a moment by his immersion beneath the waves. "not without some trouble though. "What can he be looking for?" thought Edmond. "Move on. "Yes. and then there was a burst of brutal laughter. Although drawn downwards by the heavy weight which hastened his rapid descent. falling. "or I shall never find what I am looking for. the abbe runs a chance of being wet. perhaps. "Bad weather!" observed one of the bearers. I can tell you." An exclamation of satisfaction indicated that the grave-digger had found the object of his search. with a rapidity that made his blood curdle. The sea is the cemetery of the Chateau d'If. and as he did so he uttered a shrill cry. have you tied the knot?" inquired the grave-digger." was the answer. here we are at last. and was dragged into its depths by a thirty-six pound shot tied to his feet. yes. "Well. one by the head and the other by the heels. The Island of Tiboulen. who was looking on." As he said this. Dantes had been flung into the sea. and swung him to and fro. Dantes. then went forward again." said the other bearer. "Well. with a horrible splash. and at the same moment a cord was fastened round his feet with sudden and painful violence. and they proceeded." "Yes.

This was an easy feat to him. 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 strove to penetrate the darkness. and that he was still master of that element on whose bosom he had so often sported as a boy. in order to rest himself. and remained a long time beneath the water. that has retarded my speed. and as his right hand (prepared as he was for every chance) held his knife open. continued to cleave the waves. But how could he find his way in the darkness of the night? At this moment he saw the light of Planier. When he came up again the light had disappeared. he kept the Island of Tiboulen a little on the left. Dantes waited only to get breath. and every time that he rose to the top of a wave he scanned the horizon. He found with pleasure that his captivity had taken away nothing of his power. and already the terrible chateau had disappeared in the darkness. nevertheless. even beneath the waves. he was fifty paces from where he had first sunk. Often in prison Faria had said to him. but he felt its presence. and he redoubled his exertions. it was at least a league from the Chateau d'If to this island. during which Dantes. When he arose a second time. as we have said. and your strength has not been properly exercised and prepared for exertion. at the moment when it seemed as if he were actually strangled. Dantes. but Ratonneau and Pomegue are inhabited. blacker than the sky. Dantes dived again. but in spite of all his efforts to free himself from the shot. He fancied that every wave behind him was a pursuing boat. you must not give way to this listlessness. whose projecting crags seemed like arms extended to seize their prey. rose phantom-like the vast stone structure. but exhausting his strength. as is also the islet of Daume. however. He fancied that these two forms were looking at the sea. By leaving this light on the right. He swam on still. clogged Dantes' efforts. but as the wind is against me. and then dived. He listened for any sound that might be audible. With a mighty leap he rose to the surface of the sea. excited by the feeling of freedom. "I have swum above an hour. he felt it dragging him down still lower. and was unanimously declared to be the best swimmer in the port. extricated his arm. across which the wind was driving clouds that occasionally suffered a twinkling star to appear. Ratonneau and Pomegue are the nearest islands of all those that surround the Chateau d'If.of mind to hold his breath. before him was the vast expanse of waters. He then bent his body. I must be close to Tiboulen. increasing rapidly his distance from the chateau. "Dantes. He sought to tread water. therefore. he would find it. he rapidly ripped up the sack. "Let us see." said he. but the sea was . and by a desperate effort severed the cord that bound his legs. in order to avoid being seen. and on the highest rock was a torch lighting two figures. while the shot dragged down to the depths the sack that had so nearly become his shroud. Tiboulen and Lemaire were therefore the safest for Dantes' venture. He saw overhead a black and tempestuous sky. gleaming in front of him like a star. when he saw him idle and inactive. whose waves foamed and roared as if before the approach of a storm. sombre and terrible. he hastened to cleave his way through them to see if he had not lost his strength. you will be drowned if you seek to escape." These words rang in Dantes' ears. The islands of Tiboulen and Lemaire are a league from the Chateau d'If. that relentless pursuer. blacker than the sea. and then his body. Fear. He must now get his bearings. determined to make for them. But. He could not see it. if I am not mistaken. by turning to the left. But what if I were mistaken?" A shudder passed over him. An hour passed. Behind him.

equally arid. Dantes rose. advanced a few steps. He knew that it was barren and without shelter. at the same time he felt a sharp pain in his knee. a flash of lightning. Dantes cried at the top of his voice to warn them of their danger. between the Island of Lemaire and Cape Croiselle. Another flash showed him four men clinging to the shattered mast and the rigging. and cries of distress. wetted him with their spray. and drank greedily of the rainwater that had lodged in a hollow of the rock. Dantes from his rocky perch saw the shattered vessel. sweet sleep of utter exhaustion. He fancied for a moment that he had been shot. Dantes had not been deceived--he had reached the first of the two islands. and he felt that he could not make use of this means of recuperation. and scarcely had he availed himself of it when the tempest burst forth in all its fury. while a fifth clung to the broken rudder. he resolved to plunge into its waves again. he saw it again. "I will swim on until I am worn out. he fell into the deep. He extended his hands. in spite of the wind and rain. Dantes saw a fishing-boat driven rapidly like a spectre before the power of winds and waves. break moorings. and encountered an obstacle and with another stroke knew that he had gained the shore. and heavy clouds seemed to sweep down towards him. Then. which was. A second after. Tiboulen. and that it would. It was the Island of Tiboulen. An overhanging rock offered him a temporary shelter. illumined the darkness. The tempest was let loose and beating the atmosphere with its mighty wings. dashing themselves against it. and among the fragments . and then I shall sink. and swim to Lemaire. "Well." said he. suddenly the ropes that still held it gave way. but when the sea became more calm. the waves. and yet he felt dizzy in the midst of the warring of the elements and the dazzling brightness of the lightning. in fact. and listened for the report.too violent. stretched himself on the granite. Before him rose a grotesque mass of rocks. but larger. lighting up the clouds that rolled on in vast chaotic waves. like a vessel at anchor. Above the splintered mast a sail rent to tatters was waving. Then he put out his hand. that seemed to rive the remotest heights of heaven. that resembled nothing so much as a vast fire petrified at the moment of its most fervent combustion. and consequently better adapted for concealment. and. and it disappeared in the darkness of the night like a vast sea-bird. By its light. but they saw it themselves. As he rose. from time to time a flash of lightning stretched across the heavens like a fiery serpent. which seemed to him softer than down." and he struck out with the energy of despair. He was safely sheltered. Edmond felt the trembling of the rock beneath which he lay. and bear him off into the centre of the storm. It seemed to him that the island trembled to its base. Suddenly the sky seemed to him to become still darker and more dense. for their cries were carried to his ears by the wind. He then recollected that he had not eaten or drunk for four-and-twenty hours. but he heard nothing. approaching with frightful rapidity. The men he beheld saw him undoubtedly. a quarter of a league distant. with a fervent prayer of gratitude. or the cramp seizes me. At the same moment a violent crash was heard. At the expiration of an hour Edmond was awakened by the roar of thunder.

I have suffered enough surely! Have pity on me. and do for me what I am unable to do for myself. But I cannot---. a light played over them." As he spoke. did I not fear being questioned. and give the alarm. was tacking between the Chateau d'If and the tower of Planier. besides. "In two or three hours. I am hungry. vast gray clouds rolled towards the west. and gilded their foaming crests with gold. 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. he groped about. the men who cast me into the sea and who must have heard the cry I uttered. She was coming out of Marseilles harbor. My story will be accepted. Dantes ran down the rocks at the risk of being himself dashed to pieces. "Oh. The sea continued to get calmer. seek for me in vain. floated at the foot of the crag. It was day. but he soon saw that she would pass. and looked at both sea and land. will prefer selling me to doing a good action. O my God. and the tempest continued to rage. The police of Marseilles will be on the alert by land. with the wind dead ahead. It was about five o'clock. The gloomy building rose from the bosom of the ocean with imposing majesty and seemed to dominate the scene.the floating forms of the hapless sailors. He soon saw that the vessel. "I am saved!" murmured he. In an instant Dantes' plan was formed.I am starving." cried Edmond. I can pass as one of the sailors wrecked last night. He turned towards the fortress. these men. as if he now beheld it for the first time. 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. "to think that in half an hour I could join her. And this conviction restored his strength. her sharp prow cleaving through the waves. Then all was dark again. Soon a red streak became visible in the horizon. he listened. who are in reality smugglers. "the turnkey will enter my chamber. I have lost even the knife that saved me. Then boats filled with armed soldiers will pursue the wretched fugitive. instead of keeping in shore. The cannon will warn every one to refuse shelter to a man wandering about naked and famished. and was standing out to sea rapidly. and struck out so as to cut across the course the vessel was taking. and the blue firmament appeared studded with bright stars. By degrees the wind abated. I must wait. placed it on his head. I am cold. Dantes looked toward the spot where the fishing-vessel had been wrecked. she should stand out to sea. For an instant he feared lest. Then the tunnel will be discovered. seized one of the timbers. and started. . for there is no one left to contradict me. and indeed since his captivity in the Chateau d'If he had forgotten that such scenes were ever to be witnessed. but he heard and saw nothing--the cries had ceased. the waves whitened." As Dantes (his eyes turned in the direction of the Chateau d'If) uttered this prayer. and conveyed back to Marseilles! What can I do? What story can I invent? under pretext of trading along the coast. whilst the governor pursues me by sea. will be questioned. He swam to the cap. detected. recognize it. and with his sailor's eye he knew it to be a Genoese tartan. like most vessels bound for Italy. perhaps I have not been missed at the fortress. Dantes stood mute and motionless before this majestic spectacle. In a few hours my strength will be utterly exhausted." thought Dantes. find the body of my poor friend.

"a Maltese sailor. Dantes would have shouted. had yet watched it anxiously until it tacked and stood towards him. His first care was to see what course they were taking. struggled with the last desperate effort of a drowning man. and he was almost breathless. rowed by two men. making signs of distress. "Courage!" The word reached his ear as a wave which he no longer had the strength to surmount passed over his head. It was then he rejoiced at his precaution in taking the timber. he was lying on the deck. looked on with that egotistical pity men feel for a misfortune that they have escaped yesterday. He shouted again. another. for without it he would have been unable. Then he advanced. but before they could meet. an old sailer. He rose again to the surface. and one of them cried in Italian. and the tartan instantly steered towards him. and then he realized how serviceable the timber had been to him. But he had reckoned too much upon his strength. and swam vigorously to meet them. his legs lost their flexibility.between the islands of Jaros and Calaseraigne. whom he recognized as the one who had cried out "Courage!" held a gourd full of rum to his mouth. and we were wrecked on these rocks. A few drops of the rum restored suspended animation. He rose on the waves. advanced rapidly towards him. which he now thought to be useless. he saw they were about to lower the boat. and uttering a loud shout peculiar to sailers. At the same time. waving his cap. should he be unsuccessful in attracting attention. The two sailors redoubled their efforts. the boat. He had fainted. However. then he saw and heard nothing. the vessel again changed her course. and in one of its tacks the tartan bore down within a quarter of a mile of him. though almost sure as to what course the vessel would take. His arms became stiff. As we have said. "Who are you?" said the pilot in bad French." replied Dantes. perhaps. By a violent effort he rose half out of the water. at once the pilot and captain. They were rapidly leaving the Chateau d'If behind. A sailor was rubbing his limbs with a woollen cloth. We were coming from Syracuse laden with grain. Dantes. Dantes let go of the timber. the vessel and the swimmer insensibly neared one another. and the vessel stood on another tack. The storm of last night overtook us at Cape Morgion. but he knew that the wind would drown his voice. in bad Italian. and felt himself sinking. uttered a third cry. and which may overtake them to-morrow. while the friction of his limbs restored their elasticity. while the third. A convulsive movement again brought him to the surface. but no one on board saw him." . Dantes was so exhausted that the exclamation of joy he uttered was mistaken for a sigh. as if the fatal cannon shot were again tied to his feet. The water passed over his head. He felt himself seized by the hair. to reach the vessel--certainly to return to shore. "I am. An instant after. This time he was both seen and heard. and the sky turned gray. When he opened his eyes Dantes found himself on the deck of the tartan.

I swam off on a piece of wreckage to try and intercept your course." ." replied the sailor." "I almost hesitated. do you not sail nearer the wind?" "Because we should run straight on to the Island of Rion. "Alas. I saw your vessel." "I will do more than I promise. "I was lost when one of your sailors caught hold of my hair. "To Leghorn. "if what he says is true. and your hair a foot long. My captain is dead." said the captain doubtingly. for you were sinking." "Now what are we to do with you?" said the captain. anything you please." "I say." "You shall pass it by twenty fathoms. 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. and I thank you. instead of tacking so frequently. captain. holding out his hand. with your beard six inches." "Yes. I have barely escaped. but to-day the vow expires. "We shall see. and take his chance of keeping it afterwards."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." continued Dantes." returned Dantes. "Where are you going?" asked Dantes. You have saved my life." Dantes recollected that his hair and beard had not been cut all the time he was at the Chateau d'If. but I am a good sailor. "I thank you again." returned the other." "Do you know the Mediterranean?" "I have sailed over it since my childhood." said the sailor who had cried "Courage!" to Dantes. smiling. what hinders his staying with us?" "If he says true. "you looked more like a brigand than an honest man." "Then why. and fearful of being left to perish on the desolate island. Leave me at the first port you make. "I made a vow." "It was I. "Yes." said he." said Dantes. though." "You know the best harbors?" "There are few ports that I could not enter or leave with a bandage over my eyes. "and it was time. "But in his present condition he will promise anything. I shall be sure to find employment." said a sailor of a frank and manly appearance.

" said Jacopo. "Belay. "I shall be of some use to you. "we can agree very well.-"To the sheets. "You see. "Bravo!" said the captain. if you have them. "but I have a shirt and a pair of trousers. At the same moment the faint report of a gun was heard." "What is that to you. for my food and the clothes you lend me. Jacopo?" returned the Captain. A piece of bread was brought. quitting the helm. then paused with hand in mid-air. which had attracted Dantes' attention. you can leave me there. and Jacopo offered him the gourd." replied Jacopo. Jacopo dived into the hold and soon returned with what Edmond wanted."Take the helm. ." "Well. If you do not want me at Leghorn." He had not tasted food for forty hours." returned Dantes. she yet was tolerably obedient." This order was also executed. then. without being a first-rate sailer. at least during the voyage. A small white cloud. do you wish for anything else?" said the patron. "Larboard your helm. for I have not eaten or drunk for a long time." said he. 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." "Give me what you give the others. "A piece of bread and another glass of the capital rum I tasted." cried the captain to the steersman. felt to see if the vessel answered the rudder promptly and seeing that. "for you know more than we do. if you are reasonable. crowned the summit of the bastion of the Chateau d'If." "That is all I want. as Dantes had predicted. "Bravo!" repeated the sailors. and I will pay you out of the first wages I get." "Ah. and let us see what you know." said Dantes. obeyed. The sailors looked at one another. Dantes glanced that way as he lifted the gourd to his mouth. "Now. who composed the crew. twenty fathoms to windward." said the seaman who had saved Dantes. The four seamen." "No. "Haul taut. "Hollo! what's the matter at the Chateau d'If?" said the captain." said the captain." The young man took the helm." "That's true."--They obeyed. "I only make a remark. "That's not fair. and the vessel passed." interrupted Dantes. "Every one is free to ask what he pleases. you would do much better to find him a jacket and a pair of trousers. while the pilot looked on. and it will be all right.

"At any rate. but he had lifted the rum to his lips and was drinking it with so much composure. Chapter 22. the steersman. "The 28th of February. who are always seen on the quays of seaports. from the Arabic to the Provencal. or occupation. Dantes could thus keep his eyes on Marseilles." returned Jacopo. either with the vessels he met at sea. or with the people without name. as they have no visible means of support. for the fastest sailer in the Mediterranean would have been unable to overtake the little tartan. 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. "A prisoner has escaped from the Chateau d'If. and they are firing the alarm gun. gave him great facilities of communication. and this. while it spared him interpreters."What is this?" asked the captain. with the small boats sailing along the coast. Fernand. that with every stitch of canvas set was flying before the wind to Leghorn. The captain glanced at him. It was fourteen years day for day since Dantes' arrest. Dantes asked to take the helm. 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. who sat down beside him." replied Dantes. "What is the day of the month?" asked he of Jacopo. so much the better. he asked himself what had become of Mercedes. and who live by hidden and mysterious means which we must suppose to be a direct gift of providence. "I ask you in what year!" "You have forgotten then?" "I got such a fright last night. smiling. and the latter by a sign indicated that he might abandon it to his new comrade." replied the young man." murmured he. for I have made a rare acquisition. glad to be relieved. "that I have almost lost my memory. A sorrowful smile passed over his face. "if it be. At first the captain had received Dantes on board with a certain degree ." "In what year?" "In what year--you ask me in what year?" "Yes. died away. who must believe him dead. It is fair to assume that Dantes was on board a smuggler. Without having been in the school of the Abbe Faria. Then his eyes lighted up with hatred as he thought of the three men who had caused him so long and wretched a captivity. and Villefort the oath of implacable vengeance he had made in his dungeon. I ask you what year is it?" "The year 1829." Under pretence of being fatigued. that suspicions." replied Dantes. He renewed against Danglars. he was thirty-three when he escaped. The Smugglers. He was nineteen when he entered the Chateau d'If. looked at the captain. if the captain had any. This oath was no longer a vain menace. country.

in whose favor his mild demeanor. his eyebrows were arched beneath a brow furrowed with thought. Here Edmond was to undergo another trial. and heard the distant report. But the skilful manner in which Dantes had handled the lugger had entirely reassured him. and Edmond felt that his chin was completely smooth. they extracted nothing more from him. and however the old sailor and his crew tried to "pump" him. so long kept from the sun. who perhaps employed this ingenious means of learning some of the secrets of his trade. The barber gazed in amazement at this man with the long. his eyes were full of melancholy. He had preserved a tolerably good remembrance of what the youth had been. now a barber would only be surprised if a man gifted with such advantages should consent voluntarily to deprive himself of them. when the features are encircled with black hair. This was now all changed. The Leghorn barber said nothing and went to work. which he knew as well as Marseilles. subtle as he was. which gave his head the appearance of one of Titian's portraits. . like that of kings. pleaded. that vigor which a frame possesses which has so long concentrated all its force within itself. Edmond thus had the advantage of knowing what the owner was. open. Thus the Genoese. thick and black hair and beard. and who anticipates a future corresponding with his past. and then. with whom the early paths of life have been smooth. the profound learning he had acquired had besides diffused over his features a refined intellectual expression. than if the new-comer had proved to be a customs officer. he gave accurate descriptions of Naples and Malta. and his hair reduced to its usual length. but this supposition also disappeared like the first. and his fourteen years' imprisonment had produced a great transformation in his appearance. and held stoutly to his first story. In this state of mutual understanding. Ferdinand Street. his nautical skill. as we have said.of distrust. Dantes had entered the Chateau d'If with the round. being naturally of a goodly stature. His comrades believed that his vow was fulfilled. and from their depths occasionally sparkled gloomy fires of misanthropy and hatred. was duped by Edmond. and was now to find out what the man had become. three-and-thirty years of age. This made him less uneasy. when he saw the light plume of smoke floating above the bastion of the Chateau d'If. When the operation was concluded. The oval face was lengthened. as he had not seen his own face for fourteen years. it must be owned. the aristocratic beauty of the man of the north. Moreover. was accompanied with salutes of artillery. He was very well known to the customs officers of the coast. he was to find out whether he could recognize himself. he went there to have his beard and hair cut. his smiling mouth had assumed the firm and marked lines which betoken resolution. and as there was between these worthies and himself a perpetual battle of wits. he was instantly struck with the idea that he had on board his vessel one whose coming and going. without the owner knowing who he was. and he had also acquired. when he beheld the perfect tranquillity of his recruit. He was now. he asked for a hand-glass. had now that pale color which produces. As he had twenty times touched at Leghorn. At this period it was not the fashion to wear so large a beard and hair so long. they reached Leghorn. it is possible that the Genoese was one of those shrewd persons who know nothing but what they should know. his complexion. and his admirable dissimulation. smiling face of a young and happy man. he had at first thought that Dantes might be an emissary of these industrious guardians of rights and duties. and believe nothing but what they should believe. he remembered a barber in St.

The next morning going on deck. English powder. Edmond smiled when he beheld himself: it was impossible that his best friend--if. very obedient to their captain. which the rising sun tinged with rosy light. as we all know. whom he had picked up naked and nearly drowned. had they not died with him? It is true. sobs. or recognize in the neat and trim sailor the man with thick and matted beard. that he had only to leap into the sea and in half an hour be at the promised land. . from one end to the other. the patron found Dantes leaning against the bulwarks gazing with intense earnestness at a pile of granite rocks. He left Gorgone on his right and La Pianosa on his left. and consisting of white trousers. from being so long in twilight or darkness. his eyes had acquired the faculty of distinguishing objects in the night. common to the hyena and the wolf. he had waited fourteen years for his liberty. had offered to advance him funds out of his future profits. It was in this costume. hair tangled with seaweed. and went towards the country of Paoli and Napoleon. Attracted by his prepossessing appearance. and now he was free he could wait at least six months or a year for wealth. and land it on the shores of Corsica. as he always did at an early hour. and which he had so often dreamed of in prison. and Dantes repeated it to himself. and tobacco on which the excise had forgotten to put its mark. and imprecations had changed it so that at times it was of a singularly penetrating sweetness. Edmond was again cleaving the azure sea which had been the first horizon of his youth. Dantes had learned how to wait. 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.To the elegance of a nervous and slight form had succeeded the solidity of a rounded and muscular figure. indeed. He had scarcely been a week at Leghorn before the hold of his vessel was filled with printed muslins. But then what could he do without instruments to discover his treasure. were not those riches chimerical?--offspring of the brain of the poor Abbe Faria. very simple. he had any friend left--could recognize him. As to his voice. without arms to defend himself? Besides. The Young Amelia left it three-quarters of a league to the larboard. where certain speculators undertook to forward the cargo to France. who had his own projects. he renewed his offers of an engagement to Dantes. but Dantes. for he had not forgotten a word. which Edmond had accepted. Moreover. who was very desirous of retaining amongst his crew a man of Edmond's value. Fortunately. and a cap. contraband cottons. Dantes thought. the letter of the Cardinal Spada was singularly circumstantial. The master was to get all this out of Leghorn free of duties. and bringing back to Jacopo the shirt and trousers he had lent him. and kept on for Corsica. a striped shirt. prayers. and body soaking in seabrine. what would the sailors say? What would the patron think? He must wait. It was the Island of Monte Cristo. and at others rough and almost hoarse. The Young Amelia had a very active crew. who had made him tell his story over and over again before he could believe him. would not agree for a longer time than three months. that Edmond reappeared before the captain of the lugger. who lost as little time as possible. he could not recognize himself. as they passed so closely to the island whose name was so interesting to him. They sailed. Would he not have accepted liberty without riches if it had been offered to him? Besides. The master of The Young Amelia.

The next morn broke off the coast of Aleria. in truth. who had nothing to expect from his comrade but the inheritance of his share of the prize-money. The same night. with vision accustomed to the gloom of a prison. neither was it so wicked as Dantes thought it. and two sailors wounded. Dantes noticed that the captain of The Young Amelia had. as we have said. and with certain herbs gathered at certain seasons. seeing him fall. whether from heat of blood produced by the encounter. and offered him in return for his attention a share of his prize-money. But this sufficed for Jacopo. without making much noise. who instinctively felt that Edmond had a right to superiority of position--a superiority which Edmond had concealed from all others. his heart was in a fair way of petrifying in his bosom. and Edmond saw the island tinged with the shades of twilight. this sight had made but slight impression upon him. This new cargo was destined for the coast of the Duchy of Lucca. a ball having touched him in the left shoulder. or about eighty francs. manifested so much sorrow when he saw him fall. and when wounded had exclaimed with the great philosopher. and almost pleased at being wounded. moreover. and they came to within a gunshot of the shore. The Young Amelia was in luck. and everything proceeded with the utmost smoothness and politeness. no doubt. A customs officer was laid low. Edmond then resolved to try Jacopo. and with what endurance he could bear suffering. the latter was moved to a certain degree of affection. Dantes was on the way he desired to follow. and each man had a hundred Tuscan livres. and sold to the smugglers by the old Sardinian women. which. Four shallops came off with very little noise alongside the lugger. and in the evening saw fires lighted on land. continued to behold it last of all. the profits were divided. which was to replace what had been discharged. Fortunately. He had contemplated danger with a smile. in acknowledgement of the compliment. for he. the position of these was no doubt a signal for landing. and consisted almost entirely of Havana cigars. sherry. the wound soon closed. Edmond was only wounded. and rushing towards him raised him up. or the chill of human sentiment. lowered her own shallop into the sea. the everlasting enemy of the patron of The Young Amelia. And from this time the kindness . There they had a bit of a skirmish in getting rid of the duties. and Malaga wines." He had. The second operation was as successful as the first. looked upon the customs officer wounded to death.Evening came. since this man. can throw a four ounce ball a thousand paces or so. and then attended to him with all the kindness of a devoted comrade. Dantes was one of the latter. had believed him killed. for they were rude lessons which taught him with what eye he could view danger. As a result of the sympathetic devotion which Jacopo had from the first bestowed on Edmond. the excise was. as he neared the land. 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 world was not then so good as Doctor Pangloss believed it. but Jacopo refused it indignantly. for a ship's lantern was hung up at the mast-head instead of the streamer. But on this occasion the precaution was superfluous. and then disappear in the darkness from all eyes but his own. Dantes was almost glad of this affray. But the voyage was not ended. and. "Pain. all day they coasted. where they intended to take in a cargo. which. for he remained alone upon deck. They turned the bowsprit towards Sardinia. and was moving towards the end he wished to achieve. such a man of regularity was the patron of The Young Amelia. thou art not an evil. Jacopo. mounted two small culverins.

Bonaparte. he could not devise any plan for reaching the island without companionship. He had passed and re-passed his Island of Monte Cristo twenty times. Then in the long days on board ship. At the mention of Monte Cristo Dantes started with joy. he rose to conceal his emotion. connected with a vessel laden with Turkey carpets. and took a turn around the smoky tavern. seemed to have been placed in the midst of the ocean since the time of the heathen Olympus by Mercury. He then formed a resolution. but not once had he found an opportunity of landing there. which being completely deserted. but which antiquity appears to have included in the same category. became emperor. who supplied the whole coast for nearly two hundred leagues in extent. and taught him to read in that vast book opened over our heads which they call heaven. where all the languages of the known world were jumbled in a lingua franca. and was very desirous of retaining him in his service. who had great confidence in him. Then he would be free to make his researches. But in this world we must risk something. 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. he had formed an acquaintance with all the smugglers on the coast. and where God writes in azure with letters of diamonds. Two months and a half elapsed in these trips. for he would be doubtless watched by those who accompanied him. as the poor Abbe Faria had been his tutor. gliding on with security over the azure sea. became the instructor of Jacopo. As soon as his engagement with the patron of The Young Amelia ended. it had been decided that they should touch . "What is the use of teaching all these things to a poor sailor like me?" Edmond replied. Dantes was tossed about on these doubts and wishes. not perhaps entirely at liberty. and Edmond had become as skilful a coaster as he had been a hardy seaman. when the patron." We had forgotten to say that Jacopo was a Corsican. Edmond. with a chart in his hand. 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. when the vessel. If the venture was successful the profit would be enormous. and having neither soldiers nor revenue officers. explained to him the variations of the compass. the god of merchants and robbers. But in vain did he rack his imagination. and cashmeres. When he again joined the two persons who had been discussing the matter. and seeing all these hardy free-traders. fertile as it was. "Who knows? You may one day be the captain of a vessel. Prison had made Edmond prudent. This time it was a great matter that was under discussion. took him by the arm one evening and led him to a tavern on the Via del' Oglio. Your fellow-countryman. and then to try and land these goods on the coast of France. and learned all the Masonic signs by which these half pirates recognize each other. Already Dantes had visited this maritime Bourse two or three times. It was necessary to find some neutral ground on which an exchange could be made. and he was desirous of running no risk whatever. there would be a gain of fifty or sixty piastres each for the crew.which Edmond showed him was enough for the brave seaman. classes of mankind which we in modern times have separated if not made distinct. The patron of The Young Amelia proposed as a place of landing the Island of Monte Cristo. where the leading smugglers of Leghorn used to congregate and discuss affairs connected with their trade. He pointed out to him the bearings of the coast. required no care but the hand of the helmsman. thanks to the favorable winds that swelled her sails. stuffs of the Levant. And when Jacopo inquired of him.

as subterranean waters filter in their caves. The day came at length. and at ten minutes past seven they doubled the lighthouse just as the beacon was kindled. his comrades obeyed him with celerity and pleasure. and he would take the helm. and easy of execution. Nothing then was altered in the plan. filled his pockets with the radiant gems and then returned to daylight. Night came. with a fresh breeze from the south-east. and had again reverted to the genii from whom for a moment he had hoped to carry it off. Edmond. and under the eye of heaven? Now this solitude was peopled with his thoughts. and. If he closed his eyes. with panels of rubies. and the roof glowing with diamond stalactites. and orders were given to get under weigh next night. Dantes. wind and weather permitting. The Island of Monte Cristo. but it brought reason to the aid of imagination. the night lighted up by . wonderstruck. than that of a ship floating in isolation on the sea during the obscurity of the night. and these preparations served to conceal Dantes' agitation. amazed. 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. One night more and he would be on his way. Thus. to make the neutral island by the following day. He saw in the young man his natural successor. and was almost as feverish as the night had been. and all went to their bunks contentedly. Dantes told them that all hands might turn in. He had by degrees assumed such authority over his companions that he was almost like a commander on board. and now the path became a labyrinth. Dantes was about to secure the opportunity he wished for. in the silence of immensity. At seven o'clock in the evening all was ready. Chapter 23. and in its progress visions good and evil passed through Dantes' mind. frequently experienced an imperious desire for solitude. The night was one of feverish distraction. 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. and as his orders were always clear. and that great enterprises to be well done should be done quickly. cast from solitude into the world. for he too had recognized the superiority of Dantes over the crew and himself. He ascended into grottos paved with emeralds. at length. distinct. each of which is a world. and what solitude is more complete. This frequently happened. that he might have bound Edmond to him by a more secure alliance. The sea was calm. it was sufficient. He then endeavored to re-enter the marvellous grottos. and land on the island without incurring any suspicion. Pearls fell drop by drop. All was useless. and with it the preparation for departure. by simple and natural means. and. and Dantes was then enabled to arrange a plan which had hitherto been vague and unsettled in his brain. The old patron did not interfere. was of opinion that the island afforded every possible security. and regretted that he had not a daughter. being consulted. and then the entrance vanished. in which God also lighted up in turn his beacon lights. when he discovered that his prizes had all changed into common pebbles. 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. they sailed beneath a bright blue sky.at Monte Cristo and set out on the following night. but they had suddenly receded. or more poetical. When the Maltese (for so they called Dantes) had said this. the treasure disappeared. Edmond.

then. and beyond the flat but verdant Island of La Pianosa. The island was familiar to the crew of The Young Amelia. and at ten o'clock they anchored. from the brightest pink to the deepest blue." For a moment Dantes was speechless. like Lucius Brutus. "Should we not do better in the grottos?" "What grottos?" "Why. Besides. on board the tartan. The Young Amelia was first at the rendezvous. experience the anguish which Edmond felt in his paroxysms of hope." replied Jacopo. for the sake of greater security. but at eleven o'clock the moon rose in the midst of the ocean. Night came. The point was. The boat that now arrived. As to Dantes. They were making nearly ten knots an hour. the grottos--caves of the island. In spite of his usual command over himself. whose every wave she silvered. and everything on it was plainly perceptible. He was the first to jump on shore. in order to leave La Pianosa to starboard." "I do not know of any grottos." replied the sailor.--it was one of her regular haunts. They were just abreast of Mareciana. was seen against the azure sky. he would. "ascending high. About five o'clock in the evening the island was distinct. white and silent as a phantom. and to which The Young Amelia replied by a similar signal. and went and lay down in his hammock. and Dantes therefore delayed all investigation until the morning. but. his brow darkened. Dantes could not restrain his impetuosity. "What. Two hours afterwards he came on deck. The peak of Monte Cristo reddened by the burning sun. He questioned Jacopo. It was useless to search at night. assured by the answering signal that all was well. "None. and had he dared. he had passed it on his voyage to and from the Levant. and then. "Where shall we pass the night?" he inquired.his illusions. The cold sweat sprang forth on Dantes' brow. as he knew that he should shorten his course by two or three knots. "Why. The Island of Monte Cristo loomed large in the horizon. are there no grottos at Monte Cristo?" he asked. then he remembered that these caves might have been filled up by some accident. and . Never did a gamester. indicated that the moment for business had come. or even stopped up. and a mist passed over his eyes. whose whole fortune is staked on one cast of the die. to discover the hidden entrance. and from time to time his cheeks flushed. but never touched at it. in spite of a sleepless night. and every sail full with the breeze. Dantes ordered the helmsman to put down his helm. by Cardinal Spada." It was dark. Edmond resigned the lugger to the master's care. soon came in sight. have "kissed his mother earth. Edmond gazed very earnestly at the mass of rocks which gave out all the variety of twilight colors. a signal made half a league out at sea. owing to that clearness of the atmosphere peculiar to the light which the rays of the sun cast at its setting. and the silence animated by his anticipations. the vessel was hurrying on with every sail set. as the boat was about to double the Island of Elba." played in floods of pale light on the rocky hills of this second Pelion. he could not close his eyes for a moment. When the patron awoke.

was the bill of fare. and panted for wealth. Dantes approached the spot where he supposed the grottos must have existed. Edmond looked at them for a moment with the sad and gentle smile of a man superior to his fellows. if he gave utterance to the one unchanging thought that pervaded his heart. following a path worn by a torrent. and shot. that I shall. So Edmond had to separate the branches or brush away the moss to know where the . who but three months before had no desire but liberty had now not liberty enough. looking from time to time behind and around about him. his painful past gave to his countenance an indelible sadness. and probably with a definite purpose. who. he saw. Then the landing began. which seem to me contemptible. Yet perchance to-morrow deception will so act on me. taking a fowling-piece. However. powder. a thousand feet beneath him. Dantes reflected. "that will not be. and Dantes did not oppose this. Dantes declared his intention to go and kill some of the wild goats that were seen springing from rock to rock. Having reached the summit of a rock. however. Fortunately. Keeping along the shore. The wise. he begged Jacopo to take it to his comrades. At this moment hope makes me despise their riches. while limiting the power of man. whom Jacopo had rejoined. his minute observations and evident pre-occupation. Besides. and the glimmerings of gayety seen beneath this cloud were indeed but transitory. but. had they gone a quarter of a league when. and waste this treasure in some city with the pride of sultans and the insolence of nabobs. "these persons will depart richer by fifty piastres each. and who were all busy preparing the repast which Edmond's skill as a marksman had augmented with a capital dish. human foot had never before trod. as regarded this circumstance at least. and when next day. and by his restlessness and continual questions. but in providence. he almost feared that he had already said too much. his companions. far from disclosing this precious secret. which encrusts all physical substances with its mossy mantle. Jacopo insisted on following him. which apparently had been made with some degree of regularity. No one had the slightest suspicion. Meanwhile. with a single word. unerring Faria could not be mistaken in this one thing. or beneath parasitical lichen. fearing if he did so that he might incur distrust. no!" exclaimed Edmond. and which. to go and risk their lives again by endeavoring to gain fifty more. his wish was construed into a love of sport. marks made by the hand of man. on certain rocks. has filled him with boundless desires. and examining the smallest object with serious attention. by a cleft between two walls of rock. The cause was not in Dantes. Time. which spread into large bushes laden with blossoms. and when ready to let him know by firing a gun. or a desire for solitude." said he. Scarcely. having killed a kid. on the shout of joy which. on compulsion. in all human probability. This and some dried fruits and a flask of Monte Pulciano. it were better to die than to continue to lead this low and wretched life. Occasionally the marks were hidden under tufts of myrtle. Oh." Thus Dantes. Dantes went on. he could evoke from all these men. "In two hours' time. he thought he could trace. as he worked. and request them to cook it. seemed to have respected these signs.cast anchor within a cable's length of shore. consider such a contemptible possession as the utmost happiness. as it invests all things of the mind with forgetfulness. aroused suspicions. then they will return with a fortune of six hundred francs.

" This very much astonished the sailors. "He has broken his ribs. that he would rather die where he was than undergo the agony which the slightest movement cost him. and that when they returned he should be easier. placed solidly on its base. and ran quickly towards them. and your tars are not very ceremonious. instead of growing easier." Dantes declared. We will try and carry him on board the tartan." said the patron. A large round rock. which he could not foresee would have been so complete. in a low voice. "No matter. and we must not leave him. who had not his reasons for fasting. and severe pains in his loins. Might it not have been the cardinal himself who had first traced them. he declared that he had only need of a little rest. "Well. although under Jacopo's directions. They all rushed towards him. that at sixty paces from the harbor the marks ceased. however. who was obliged to sail in the morning in order to land his cargo on the frontiers of Piedmont and France. produced the same effect as formerly. The sailors did not require much urging. for all loved Edmond in spite of his superiority.guide-marks were." said the commander. We will not go till evening. bleeding. should have their meal. . It may be supposed that Dantes did not now think of his dinner. The sight of marks renewed Edmond fondest hopes. Edmond's foot slipped. he is an excellent fellow. it shall never be said that we deserted a good comrade like you. but when they touched him. had got some water from a spring. Edmond made great exertions in order to comply. They were hungry. between Nice and Frejus. in order that they might serve as a guide for his nephew in the event of a catastrophe. was the only spot to which they seemed to lead. and almost senseless. Meanwhile his comrades had prepared the repast. but at each effort he fell back. Dantes' pains appeared to increase in violence. Edmond concluded that perhaps instead of having reached the end of the route he had only explored its beginning. complained of great pain in his knee. but he insisted that his comrades. But. moaning and turning pale. They wished to carry him to the shore. spread out the fruit and bread. he declared. They poured a little rum down his throat. Only. yet Jacopo reached him first. however. with heavy groans. and the smell of the roasted kid was very savory. urged Dantes to try and rise. But even while they watched his daring progress. 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. The old patron. He had rolled down a declivity of twelve or fifteen feet. and they fired the signal agreed upon. nor did they terminate at any grotto. they saw Edmond springing with the boldness of a chamois from rock to rock. Just at the moment when they were taking the dainty animal from the spit. and cooked the kid. a feeling of heaviness in his head. and he therefore turned round and retraced his steps. All that Edmond had been able to do was to drag himself about a dozen paces forward to lean against a moss-grown rock. An hour afterwards they returned. He found Edmond lying prone. who was hidden from his comrades by the inequalities of the ground. Edmond opened his eyes. This solitary place was precisely suited to the requirements of a man desirous of burying treasure. "let what may happen. and they saw him stagger on the edge of a rock and disappear. and this remedy which had before been so beneficial to him. to Edmond. The sportsman instantly changed his direction. that he could not bear to be moved. As for himself.

"if in two or three days you hail any fishing-boat. would be ready for sea when her toilet should be completed. to kill the kids or defend myself at need. Dantes would not allow that any such infraction of regular and proper rules should be made in his favor. which was rolling on the swell in the little harbor.although. not one opposed it. "and without any hesitation. it was impossible for the wounded man to see her any longer from the spot where he was. Leave me a small supply of biscuit. from which he had a full view of the sea." said Dantes. and balls. and I will stay and take care of the wounded man. or even delay in its execution. but not without turning about several times. with sails partly set. there's one way of settling this." A peculiar smile passed over Dantes' lips." said Jacopo. Then Dantes rose more agile and light than the kid among the myrtles and shrubs of these wild rocks. "Listen. The smugglers left with Edmond what he had requested and set sail. no. weigh anchor. return for me." "You are a good fellow and a kind-hearted messmate. at least." The patron shook his head. I will pay twenty-five piastres for my passage back to Leghorn. but nothing could shake his determination to remain--and remain alone. a gun. "What are we to do. The patron was so strict that this was the first time they had ever seen him give up an enterprise. "I would rather do so. "and then we must run out of our course to come here and take you up again. Captain Baldi. took his gun in one hand." he said to the patron. as if he could not move the rest of his body. Then." said Jacopo. his . At the end of an hour she was completely out of sight. and it is just that I pay the penalty of my clumsiness." "Why." "But you'll die of hunger." "Go." replied Edmond. "We shall be absent at least a week. set sail. and. go!" exclaimed Dantes. he squeezed Jacopo's hand warmly." was Edmond reply." The patron turned towards his vessel." "And give up your share of the venture. powder. and yet we cannot stay. balancing herself as gracefully as a water-fowl ere it takes to the wing. Maltese?" asked the captain. and. and each time making signs of a cordial farewell. A day or two of rest will set me up. "than suffer the inexpressible agonies which the slightest movement causes me. "to remain with me?" "Yes. "We cannot leave you here so." said the patron. he said with a smile. but I do not wish any one to stay with me. "Do you go. "I was awkward. that I may build a shelter if you delay in coming back for me." said the patron. "and heaven will recompense you for your generous intentions. to which Edmond replied with his hand only. desire them to come here to me. when they had disappeared." said Edmond. and I hope I shall find among the rocks certain herbs most excellent for bruises. "No. and thence he saw the tartan complete her preparations for sailing." Then he dragged himself cautiously to the top of a rock. and a pickaxe. If you do not come across one.--"'Tis strange that it should be among such men that we find proofs of friendship and devotion.

and he had noticed that they led to a small creek. which would be perfectly concealed from observation. while the blue ocean beat against the base of the island. But it was not upon Corsica. open sesame!" Chapter 24. thought he. had been so skilfully used to guide him through the Daedalian labyrinth of probabilities. the island was inhabited. He saw that he was on the highest point of the island. or on Sardinia. without the aid of many men? Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind. and deep in the centre. which seemed themselves sensible of the heat. they have lowered it. was about to round the Island of Corsica. had entered the creek. Dantes. 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. Then he descended with cautious and slow step. One thing only perplexed Edmond. and his scorching rays fell full on the rocks. He then looked at the objects near him. the very houses of which he could distinguish. that he gazed. It was at the brigantine that had left in the morning. concealed his little barque.pickaxe in the other. and from thence gazed round in every direction. At every step that Edmond took he disturbed the lizards glittering with the hues of the emerald. yet Edmond felt himself alone. as we have said. and Leghorn the commercial. following an opposite direction. and the rock had slid along this until it stopped at the spot . mounted to the summit of the highest rock." he exclaimed. This creek was sufficiently wide at its mouth. How could this rock. the leaves of the myrtle and olive trees waved and rustled in the wind. "now. and covered it with a fringe of foam. In a word. He soon perceived that a slope had been formed.--a statue on this vast pedestal of granite. nothing human appearing in sight. which was hidden like the bath of some ancient nymph. with its historical associations. and destroyed his theory. he stopped. seized his gun. This sight reassured him. he thought that the Cardinal Spada. Instead of raising it. and at the end of it had buried his treasure. It was this idea that had brought Dantes back to the circular rock. in the hands of the Abbe Faria. or on the Island of Elba. Thousands of grasshoppers. had traced the marks along the rocks. anxious not to be watched. followed the line marked by the notches in the rock. The Secret Cave. which weighed several tons. The sun had nearly reached the meridian. or upon the almost imperceptible line that to the experienced eye of a sailor alone revealed the coast of Genoa the proud. remembering the tale of the Arabian fisherman. and the tartan that had just set sail. have been lifted to this spot. This feeling was so strong that at the moment when Edmond was about to begin his labor. "And now. to admit of the entrance of a small vessel of the lugger class. and hastened towards the rock on which the marks he had noted terminated. that Edmond fixed his eyes. And he sprang from the rock in order to inspect the base on which it had formerly stood. guided by the hand of God. chirped with a monotonous and dull note. the other. Then following the clew that. which Faria had related to him. laid down his pickaxe. The first was just disappearing in the straits of Bonifacio. afar off he saw the wild goats bounding from crag to crag. for he dreaded lest an accident similar to that he had so adroitly feigned should happen in reality. hidden in the bushes.

now that I no longer entertain the slightest hopes. placed his lever in one of the crevices. and finally disappeared in the ocean. The intrepid treasure-seeker walked round it. moss had clung to the stones. and descending before me. and used it as a lever. The rock. it sees all its illusions destroyed. who uprooted the mountains to hurl against the father of the gods. then made a match by rolling his handkerchief in saltpetre. leaned towards the sea. The explosion soon followed. I am accustomed to adversity. the end of this adventure becomes simply a matter of curiosity. raised the stone. stripped off its branches. has left me nothing.it now occupied." said he to himself. or if he did. Dantes uttered a cry of joy and surprise. But how? He cast his eyes around. myrtle-bushes had taken root. After ten minutes' labor the wall gave way. and the old rock seemed fixed to the earth. the intrepid adventurer. perhaps he never came here. Dantes went and cut the strongest olive-tree he could find. never had a first attempt been crowned with more perfect success. Dantes dug away the earth carefully. Caesar Borgia. or fancied he detected. and saw the horn full of powder which his friend Jacopo had left him. He would fain have continued. "Now that I expect nothing. then. the ingenious artifice. and reflected. A large stone had served as a wedge. after the manner of a labor-saving pioneer. the flag-stone yielded. after having been elated by flattering hopes. already shaken by the explosion. to be moved by any one man. Dantes turned pale. bounded from point to point. and grass and weeds had grown there. the Cardinal Spada buried no treasure here. and disappeared. But the rock was too heavy. so as to conceal the orifice. selecting the spot from whence it appeared most susceptible to attack. he seemed like one of the ancient Titans. like the guardian demon of the treasure. would be the use of all I have suffered? The heart breaks when. with his pickaxe. "Come. I must not be cast down by the discovery that I have been deceived. Dantes saw that he must attack the wedge. and his heart beat so violently. inserted it in the hole. and disclosed steps that descended until they were lost in the obscurity of a subterraneous grotto. Faria has dreamed this. and strained every nerve to move the mass. but his knees trembled. Dantes redoubled his efforts. What. the stealthy and indefatigable plunderer. and a hole large enough to insert the arm was opened. the infernal invention would serve him for this purpose." . The rock yielded. that he was forced to pause. and detected. Dantes approached the upper rock. He smiled. filled it with powder. were he Hercules himself." He remained motionless and pensive. He attacked this wall. Edmond inserted his lever in the ring and exerted all his strength. Dantes. On the spot it had occupied was a circular space. which now. tottered on its base. dug a mine between the upper rock and the one that supported it. this species of masonry had been covered with earth. "be a man. rolled over. exposing an iron ring let into a square flag-stone. the upper rock was lifted from its base by the terrific force of the powder. has followed him. He lighted it and retired. and a huge snake. flints and pebbles had been inserted around it. and too firmly wedged. pursued them as I have done. thousands of insects escaped from the aperture Dantes had previously formed. discovered his traces. Any one else would have rushed on with a cry of joy. With the aid of his pickaxe. hesitated. the lower one flew into pieces. without any support. and. cemented by the hand of time. rolled himself along in darkening coils. This feeling lasted but for a moment. and his sight became so dim. his eyes fixed on the gloomy aperture that was open at his feet.

At last it seemed to him that one part of the wall gave forth a more hollow and deeper echo. entered. and through which he could distinguish the blue sky and the waving branches of the evergreen oaks. and with greater force. which he knew by heart. and murmuring that last word of human philosophy. then this stucco had been applied. as I am about to descend. the opening must be." said Edmond. "these are the treasures the cardinal has left. The pickaxe struck for a moment with a dull sound that drew out of Dantes' forehead large drops of perspiration. I will go down. dispelling the darkness before his awe-inspiring progress. and fell to the ground in flakes. he examined the stones. "he would have found the treasure. and within twenty paces. "of those who buried Alaric. struck the earth with the butt of his gun. which entered someway between the interstices. and the good abbe. smiling. which. and with the quickness of perception that no one but a prisoner possesses." Then he descended. "In the farthest angle of the second opening. at the foot of this rock. After having stood a few minutes in the cavern. like Caesar Borgia. He reflected that this second grotto must penetrate deeper into the island. which was of granite that sparkled like diamonds. as well as the air. not merely by the aperture he had just formed. Then a singular thing occurred. he. smiling. "Perhaps!" But instead of the darkness. he eagerly advanced. and Borgia. He had only found the first grotto. Dantes continued his search. and painted to imitate granite. he who compared Italy to an artichoke. but by the interstices and crevices of the rock which were visible from without. seeing in a dream these glittering walls. knew too well the value of time to waste it in replacing this rock. Yes. could pierce even to the remotest angles of the cavern. this is an adventure worthy a place in the varied career of that royal bandit. in all probability." said the cardinal's will. Borgia has been here. and finding nothing that appeared suspicious. in order to avoid fruitless toil. However. exposing a large white stone. "Alas. "Yes. Dantes struck with the sharp end of his pickaxe. Dantes' eye." "But what was the fate of the guards who thus possessed his secret?" asked Dantes of himself. habituated as it was to darkness. Dantes saw a dim and bluish light. knew the value of time. returned to that part of the wall whence issued the consoling sound he had before heard. which he could devour leaf by leaf. The aperture of the rock had been closed with stones. It was there he must dig. the atmosphere of which was rather warm than damp.And he remained again motionless and thoughtful. had he come. yes. a smile on his lips. "The fate. and the thick and mephitic atmosphere he had expected to find." "Yet. masked for precaution's sake. But by some strange play of . he sounded all the other walls with his pickaxe. This fabulous event formed but a link in a long chain of marvels. he had now to seek the second. As he struck the wall. perhaps two guards kept watch on land and sea. while their master descended." But he called to mind the words of the will. and sounded one part of the wall where he fancied the opening existed. and. and the tendrils of the creepers that grew from the rocks. saw that there. has indulged in fallacious hopes. pieces of stucco similar to that used in the ground work of arabesques broke off." thought Dantes. He again struck it. a sword in the other. a torch in one hand." replied he.

and retard the certainty of deception. lighted it at the fire at which the smugglers had prepared their breakfast. a desire to be assured that no one was watching him. A wild goat had passed before the mouth of the cave. In an instant a space three feet long by two feet broad was cleared. but had been merely placed one upon the other. and the sun seemed to cover it with its fiery glance. and mounted the stair. pale. in the middle of the lid he saw engraved on a silver plate. he seized it.. produce a greater effect on the hearer. attacked the ground with the pickaxe. He planted his torch in the ground and resumed his labor. had not been deceived became stronger. bound with cut steel. At this moment a shadow passed rapidly before the opening. which was still untarnished." thought he. was now like a feather in his grasp. and was feeding at a little distance. and Dantes' fate would be decided. The treasure. He glanced around this second grotto. but with the iron tooth of the pickaxe to draw the stones towards him one by one. but by waiting. He approached the hole he had dug. or rather fell. and Dantes could see an oaken coffer. This would have been a favorable occasion to secure his dinner. The pickaxe that had seemed so heavy. cut a branch of a resinous tree. There was no longer any doubt: the treasure was there--no one would have been at such pains to conceal an empty . but Dantes feared lest the report of his gun should attract attention.emotion. the arms of the Spada family--viz. The time had at length arrived. and fall at his feet. after renewed hesitation. he could still cling to hope. like all the Italian armorial bearings. and remounted the stairs. But to Dantes' eye there was no darkness. and descended with this torch. "It is a casket of wood bound with iron. He advanced towards the angle. it was. Dantes had tasted nothing. and using the handle as a lever. in proportion as the proofs that Faria. he inserted the point of his pickaxe. and encountered the same resistance. Dantes entered the second grotto. a few small fishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean. At the fifth or sixth blow the pickaxe struck against an iron substance. passed his hand over his brow. and surmounted by a cardinal's hat. as an excuse. and now. Had Dantes found nothing he could not have become more ghastly pale. like the first. a sword. and again entered the cavern. He had nothing more to do now. He thought a moment. deprived him of it. instead of giving him fresh strength. never did alarm-bell. afar off. The island was deserted. sprang through the opening. After several blows he perceived that the stones were not cemented. alleging to himself. He again struck his pickaxe into the earth. The second grotto was lower and more gloomy than the first. saw that his pickaxe had in reality struck against iron and wood. if it existed. and covered with stucco. and then went on. was buried in this corner. At the left of the opening was a dark and deep angle. the pickaxe descended. This last proof. Never did funeral knell. but in reality because he felt that he was about to faint. He waited in order to allow pure air to displace the foul atmosphere. At last. Dantes easily recognized them. he placed it on the ground. with the aid of the torch. but he thought not of hunger at such a moment. and attacked the wall. The aperture was already sufficiently large for him to enter. He wished to see everything. 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. two feet of earth removed. but not the same sound. on an oval shield. with joy soon saw the stone turn as if on hinges. empty. and a feeling of discouragement stole over him. Faria had so often drawn them for him. Dantes seized his gun. and summoning all his resolution. he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum. so did his heart give way.

each worth about eighty francs of our money. were ranged bars of unpolished gold. again dawned. Dantes seized the handles. burst open the fastenings. then he returned. when art rendered the commonest metals precious. placed between two padlocks. In the first. terrifying the wild goats and scaring the sea-fowls with his wild cries and gestures. Edmond grasped handfuls of diamonds. in the second. Three compartments divided the coffer. his gun in his hand. for an instant he leaned his head in his hands as if to prevent his senses from leaving him. 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. all carved as things were carved at that epoch. Again he climbed the rocky height he had ascended the previous evening. Day. and he snatched a few hours' sleep. then he piled up twenty-five thousand crowns. and found himself before this mine of gold and jewels. He was alone--alone with these countless. felt. He sought to open it. and the chest was open. After having touched. mounted by the most famous workmen. he leaped on a rock. in the third. and his predecessors. Edmond was seized with vertigo. which. Chapter 25. uttered a prayer intelligible to God alone. sounded like hail against glass. and then rushed madly about the rocks of Monte Cristo. lying over the mouth of the cave. it was impossible. This time he fell on his knees. for which Dantes had so eagerly and impatiently waited with open eyes. and bearing the effigies of Alexander VI. as they fell on one another. The Unknown. and he saw successively the lock. and the two handles at each end. such as this man of stupendous emotions had already experienced twice or thrice in his lifetime. diamonds. and yet he had not strength enough. left it. and strained his view to catch every peculiarity of the landscape. He soon became calmer and more happy. lock and padlock were fastened. these faithful guardians seemed unwilling to surrender their trust. then he re-opened them. Edmond rushed through the caverns like a man seized with frenzy. he cocked his gun and laid it beside him. which possessed nothing attractive save their value. each weighing from two to three pounds. and stood motionless with amazement. examined these treasures. The hinges yielded in their turn and fell. A piece of biscuit and a small quantity of rum formed his supper. pearls. With the first light Dantes resumed his search. and. and rubies. for only now did he begin to realize his felicity. and pressing with all his force on the handle. He then set himself to work to count his fortune. or was it but a dream? He would fain have gazed upon his gold. In an instant he had cleared every obstacle away. clasping his hands convulsively.casket. Dantes inserted the sharp end of the pickaxe between the coffer and the lid. And he measured ten double handfuls of pearls. It was a night of joy and terror. still unable to believe the evidence of his senses. were valuable beyond their intrinsic worth. these unheard-of treasures! was he awake. Dantes saw the light gradually disappear. blazed piles of golden coin. . There were a thousand ingots of gold. and strove to lift the coffer. and other gems. many of which. from whence he could behold the sea. and. rushed into the grotto. still holding in their grasp fragments of the wood. and fearing to be surprised in the cavern. and he saw that the complement was not half empty.

and particularly Jacopo. the pursuing vessel had almost overtaken them when. he met his companions with an assurance that. residing in the Allees de Meillan. night came on. and so elude all further pursuit. and also a young woman called Mercedes. but the cunning purchaser asked no troublesome questions concerning a bargain by which he gained a round profit of at least eighty per cent. heaping on it broken masses of rocks and rough fragments of crumbling granite.but it wore the same wild. but as The Young Amelia had merely come to Monte Cristo to fetch him away. a dealer in precious stones. expressed great regrets that Dantes had not been an equal sharer with themselves in the profits. although considerably better than when they quitted him. he embarked that same evening. The following day Dantes presented Jacopo with an entirely new vessel. To this question the smugglers replied that. he replaced the stone. 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. filling the interstices with earth. and proceeded with the captain to Leghorn. which amounted to no less a sum than fifty piastres each. when they could but lament the absence of Dantes. Descending into the grotto. upon condition that he would go at once to Marseilles for the purpose of inquiring after an old man named Louis Dantes. then carefully watering these new plantations. Arrived at Leghorn. 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. he repaired to the house of a Jew. barren aspect when seen by the rays of the morning sun which it had done when surveyed by the fading glimmer of eve. and dragging himself with affected difficulty towards the landing-place. whose superior skill in the management of a vessel would have availed them so materially. Dantes half feared that such valuable jewels in the hands of a poor sailor like himself might excite suspicion. power. an . however. filled his pockets with gems. although successful in landing their cargo in safety. and influence which are always accorded to wealth--that first and greatest of all the forces within the grasp of man. From a distance Dantes recognized the rig and handling of The Young Amelia. he scrupulously effaced every trace of footsteps. he lifted the stone. He then inquired how they had fared in their trip. leaving the approach to the cavern as savage-looking and untrodden as he had found it. This done. quitting the grotto. while the crew. they had scarcely done so when they received intelligence that a guard-ship had just quitted the port of Toulon and was crowding all sail towards them. that he might provide himself with a suitable crew and other requisites for his outfit. then. sprinkled fresh sand over the spot from which it had been taken. he still suffered acutely from his late accident. On the sixth day. such as the wild myrtle and flowering thorn. In fact. Upon the whole. and then carefully trod down the earth to give it everywhere a uniform appearance. the trip had been sufficiently successful to satisfy all concerned. into which he deftly inserted rapidly growing plants. he impatiently awaited the return of his companions. accompanying the gift by a donation of one hundred piastres. This obliged them to make all the speed they could to evade the enemy. put the box together as well and securely as he could. which yearned to return to dwell among mankind. fortunately. to whom he disposed of four of his smallest diamonds for five thousand francs each. Edmond preserved the most admirable self-command. and to assume the rank. and enabled them to double the Cape of Corsica. the smugglers returned.

The builder cheerfully undertook the commission. seemed to be animated with almost human intelligence. left him by an uncle. whose sole heir he was. The boat. the closet to contain three divisions. Dantes. and his principal pleasure consisted in managing his yacht himself. Dantes furnishing the dimensions and plan in accordance with which they were to be constructed. 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. retired with the latter for a few minutes to a small back parlor. who at first tried all his powers of persuasion to induce him to remain as one of the crew. Jacopo could scarcely believe his senses at receiving this magnificent present. saying he was accustomed to cruise about quite alone. 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. Dantes led the owner of the yacht to the dwelling of a Jew. the price agreed upon between the Englishman and the Genoese builder was forty thousand francs. offering sixty thousand francs. At the moment of his arrival a small yacht was under trial in the bay. The delighted builder then offered his services in providing a suitable crew for the little vessel. The following morning Jacopo set sail for Marseilles. applied to its owner to transfer it to him. The proposal was too advantageous to be refused. this yacht had been built by order of an Englishman. Dantes proceeded to make his final adieus on board The Young Amelia. but this Dantes declined with many thanks. who did not allow him as much money as he liked to spend. under the inspection of an immense crowd drawn together by curiosity to see the rich Spanish nobleman who preferred managing his own yacht. by which time the builder reckoned upon being able to complete another. so promptly did it obey the slightest touch. but having been told the history of the legacy. To the captain he promised to write when he had made up his mind as to his future plans. upon condition that he should be allowed to take immediate possession. Dantes took leave of the captain. which Dantes hastened to account for by saying that he had merely been a sailor from whim and a desire to spite his family. with directions from Dantes to join him at the Island of Monte Cristo. The term for which Edmond had engaged to serve on board The Young Amelia having expired. was desirous of possessing a specimen of their skill. and was not expected back in less than three weeks or a month. The following day Dantes sailed with his yacht from Genoa. 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. the more so as the person for whom the yacht was intended had gone upon a tour through Switzerland. struck with the beauty and capability of the little vessel. distributing so liberal a gratuity among her crew as to secure for him the good wishes of all. but that on his arrival at Leghorn he had come into possession of a large fortune. he ceased to importune him further. The spectators followed the . so constructed as to be concealed from all but himself.inhabitant of the Catalan village. who. indeed. A bargain was therefore struck. Then Dantes departed for Genoa. 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. But their wonder was soon changed to admiration at seeing the perfect skill with which Dantes handled the helm. Having seen Jacopo fairly out of the harbor. and promised to have these secret places completed by the next day. having heard that the Genoese excelled all other builders along the shores of the Mediterranean in the construction of fast-sailing vessels.

he had been put on board the boat destined to convey him thither. One fine morning. leaping lightly ashore. Yet thither it was that Dantes guided his vessel. instead of landing at the usual place. For his father's death he was in some manner prepared. In a couple of hours he returned. 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 yacht. Upon the eighth day he discerned a small vessel under full sail approaching Monte Cristo.little vessel with their eyes as long as it remained visible. during his stay at Leghorn. The island was utterly deserted. and he gave orders that she should be steered direct to Marseilles. that he ran no risk of recognition. A week passed by. on the never-to-be-forgotten night of his departure for the Chateau d'If. other particulars he was desirous of ascertaining. He immediately signalled it. moreover. besides. but no one thought of Monte Cristo. Dantes listened to these melancholy tidings with outward calmness. and bore no evidence of having been visited since he went away. and. and had come the distance from Genoa in thirty-five hours. but with that perfect self-possession he had acquired during his acquaintance with Faria. Without divulging his secret. his treasure was just as he had left it. Early on the following morning he commenced the removal of his riches. he recognized it as the boat he had given to Jacopo. Old Dantes was dead. Dantes had carefully noted the general appearance of the shore. and those were of a nature he alone could investigate in a manner satisfactory to himself. bets were offered to any amount that she was bound for Spain. Two of the men from Jacopo's boat came on board the yacht to assist in navigating it. Dantes could not give sufficiently clear instructions to an agent. Dantes employed it in manoeuvring his yacht round the island. Dantes coolly presented an English passport he had obtained from Leghorn. A mournful answer awaited each of Edmond's eager inquiries as to the information Jacopo had obtained. and in two hours afterwards the new-comer lay at anchor beside the yacht. The first person to attract the attention of Dantes. 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. he had now the means of adopting any disguise he thought proper. but. Some insisted she was making for Corsica. followed by the little fishing-boat. they then turned their conjectures upon her probable destination. then. he was informed that there existed no obstacle to his immediate debarkation. was one of the crew belonging to the Pharaon. but he knew not how to account for the mysterious disappearance of Mercedes. others the Island of Elba. and anchored exactly opposite the spot from whence. studying it as a skilful horseman would the animal he destined for some important service. and as this gave him a standing which a French passport would not have afforded. as he landed on the Canebiere. There were. he signified his desire to be quite alone. As it drew near. while Africa was positively reported by many persons as her intended course. the latter to remedy. till at the end of that time he was perfectly conversant with its good and bad qualities. The former Dantes proposed to augment. and ere nightfall the whole of his immense wealth was safely deposited in the compartments of the secret locker. his boat had proved herself a first-class sailer. he dropped anchor in the little creek. and Mercedes had disappeared. His signal was returned. His looking-glass had assured him. boldly entered the port of Marseilles. and at Monte Cristo he arrived at the close of the second day.

Then he advanced to the door. that he passed but seemed filled with dear and cherished memories. Dantes instantly turned to meet him. Dantes succeeded in inducing the man to go up to the tenants. so pregnant with fond and filial remembrances. not a street. his knees tottered under him. from whence a full view of the Allees de Meillan was obtained. that you may drink to my health. and see. The nasturtiums and other plants. his heart beat almost to bursting. you intended to give me a two-franc piece. in despite of the oft-repeated assurance of the concierge that they were occupied." "Thank you. "but I believe you made a mistake. he wiped the perspiration from his brows. Each step he trod oppressed his heart with fresh emotion. 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. carefully watching the man's countenance as he did so. The bed belonging to the present occupants was placed as the former owner of the chamber had been accustomed to have his. I see that I have made a trifling mistake. but by way of rewarding your honesty I give you another double Napoleon. "I beg your pardon. The young couple gazed with astonishment at the sight of their visitor's emotion. and. sir. Nothing in the two small chambers forming the apartments remained as it had been in the time of the elder Dantes. but they felt the sacredness of his grief. Dantes sighed heavily. and stopped not again till he found himself at the door of the house in which his father had lived. went on his way. and ask permission for a gentleman to be allowed to look at them. you gave me a double Napoleon. and kindly refrained from questioning him as to its cause. he would inevitably have fallen to the ground and been crushed beneath the many vehicles continually passing there. a mist floated over his sight. as you say. Leaning against the tree. his first and most indelible recollections were there. and be able to ask your messmates to join you. meanwhile. but ere he had gone many steps he heard the man loudly calling him to stop. while. the very paper was different. Going straight towards him. that he was unable even to thank Edmond. my good friend. Giving the sailor a piece of money in return for his civility. and wondered to see the large tears silently chasing each other down his otherwise stern and immovable features. which his father had delighted to train before his window. And thus he proceeded onwards till he arrived at the end of the Rue de Noailles." So extreme was the surprise of the sailor. and had he not clung for support to one of the trees. he begged so earnestly to be permitted to visit those on the fifth floor. the eyes of Edmond were suffused in tears as he reflected that on that spot the old man had breathed his last. Dantes proceeded onwards. whose receding figure he continued to gaze after in speechless astonishment. Recovering himself.his own appearance. not a tree. however. the four walls alone remained as he had left them. Though answered in the negative. vainly calling for his son. "Some nabob from India. The tenants of the humble lodging were a young couple who had been scarcely married a week. while the articles of antiquated furniture with which the rooms had been filled in Edmond's time had all disappeared. with . At this spot. had all disappeared from the upper part of the house. in spite of his efforts to prevent it. and asked whether there were any rooms to be let. he propounded a variety of questions on different subjects." was his comment." said the honest fellow. in almost breathless haste. and seeing them. Dantes. that. he gazed thoughtfully for a time at the upper stories of the shabby little house.

and then springing lightly on horseback. The very same day the occupants of the apartments on the fifth floor of the house. Between these sickly shrubs grew a scanty supply of garlic. merely give some orders to a sailor. but he received. but had its owner asked half a million. Having obtained the address of the person to whom the house in the Allees de Meillan belonged. This strange event aroused great wonder and curiosity in the neighborhood of the Allees de Meillan.. As Edmond passed the door on the fourth floor. This modern place of entertainment stood on the left-hand side of the post road. a tall pine raised its melancholy head in one of the corners of this unattractive spot. they both accompanied him downstairs. and eschalots. When he withdrew from the scene of his painful recollections. 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. upon quitting the hut. were duly informed by the notary who had arranged the necessary transfer of deeds. they left him to indulge his sorrow alone. without the least augmentation of rent. at least ten thousand more than it was worth. Such of my readers as have made a pedestrian excursion to the south of France may perchance have noticed. for reply. under the name of Lord Wilmore (the name and title inscribed on his passport). now become the property of Dantes.--a small roadside inn. and assuring him that their poor dwelling would ever be open to him. upon condition of their giving instant possession of the two small chambers they at present inhabited. A few dingy olives and stunted fig-trees struggled hard for existence. but their withered dusty foliage abundantly proved how unequal was the conflict. It also boasted of what in Languedoc is styled a garden. reiterating their hope that he would come again whenever he pleased. and. none of which was anywhere near the truth. with two seines and a tender. Dantes next proceeded thither. that the new landlord gave them their choice of any of the rooms in the house. tomatoes. lone and solitary. purchased the small dwelling for the sum of twenty-five thousand francs. and displayed its flexible stem and fan-shaped summit dried and cracked by . etc. and set all conjecture at defiance. But what raised public astonishment to a climax. about midway between the town of Beaucaire and the village of Bellegarde. and at the present time kept a small inn on the route from Bellegarde to Beaucaire. from the front of which hung. while.instinctive delicacy. a sheet of tin covered with a grotesque representation of the Pont du Gard. it would unhesitatingly have been given. and backed upon the Rhone. but they had seen him. on the side opposite to the main entrance reserved for the reception of guests. that the person in question had got into difficulties. consisting of a small plot of ground. like a forgotten sentinel. and a multitude of theories were afloat. and afterwards observed to enter a poor fisherman's hut. creaking and flapping in the wind.--a little nearer to the former than to the latter. 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. leave Marseilles by the Porte d'Aix. consisting of an entirely new fishing-boat. But on the following day the family from whom all these particulars had been asked received a handsome present. The delighted recipients of these munificent gifts would gladly have poured out their thanks to their generous benefactor. Chapter 26. The Pont du Gard Inn. he paused to inquire whether Caderousse the tailor still dwelt there.

or stretched languid and feeble on her bed.--a chambermaid named Trinette. and deep-set eyes. as it saved him the necessity of listening to the endless plaints and murmurs of his helpmate. shivering in her chair. and sickly-looking. as though to add to the daily misery which this prosperous canal inflicted on the unfortunate inn-keeper. his rude gutteral language would not have enabled him to pronounce. which more resembled a dusty lake than solid ground. which he wore under his chin. yet there he stood. It is God's pleasure that things should be so. after the manner of the Spanish muleteers. to all of which her husband would calmly return an unvarying reply. For about seven or eight years the little tavern had been kept by a man and his wife. no doubt. his hair. the . Still. 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. not a hundred steps from the inn. on the lookout for guests who seldom came. La Carconte. for a canal between Beaucaire and Aiguemortes had revolutionized transportation by substituting boats for the cart and the stagecoach. Gaspard Caderousse. was thick and curly. while her husband kept his daily watch at the door--a duty he performed with so much the greater willingness. it was situated between the Rhone from which it had its source and the post-road it had depleted. and teeth white as those of a carnivorous animal.the fierce heat of the sub-tropical sun. This man was our old acquaintance. a perfect specimen of the natives of those southern latitudes. like his beard. who never saw him without breaking out into bitter invectives against fate. And. situated between Salon and Lambesc. with two servants. was pale. She remained nearly always in her second-floor chamber. In the surrounding plain. so called. meagre. in all probability. with no other protection for his head than a red handkerchief twisted around it. sparkling. the effect. exposed to the meridional rays of a burning sun." The sobriquet of La Carconte had been bestowed on Madeleine Radelle from the fact that she had been born in a village. tall. His wife. and in spite of his age but slightly interspersed with a few silvery threads. she had shared in the beauty for which its women are proverbial. whose utter ruin it was fast accomplishing. This small staff was quite equal to all the requirements. let it not be supposed that amid this affected resignation to the will of Providence. which regaled the passers by through this Egyptian scene with its strident. and a hostler called Pecaud. in these philosophic words:-"Hush. Born in the neighborhood of Arles. which. whose maiden name had been Madeleine Radelle. Each stalk served as a perch for a grasshopper. hooked nose. on the contrary. her husband had bestowed on her the name of La Carconte in place of her sweet and euphonious name of Madeleine. were scattered a few miserable stalks of wheat. strong. 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. of which we have given a brief but faithful description. he had dark. The inn-keeper himself was a man of from forty to fifty-five years of age. 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. and bony. 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. day after day. monotonous note.

His rider was a priest. and addicted to display. parti-colored scarfs. a mode of attire borrowed equally from Greece and Arabia. unable to appear abroad in his pristine splendor. and Gaspard Caderousse. watch-chains. the horse stopped. the pair came on with a fair degree of rapidity. bearing equal resemblance to the style adopted both by the Catalans and Andalusians. when he was aroused by the shrill voice of his wife. vain. and wearing a three-cornered hat. with its sides bordered by tall. his eyes glancing listlessly from a piece of closely shaven grass--on which some fowls were industriously. the priest. he would easily have perceived that it consisted of a man and horse. and the daily infliction of his peevish partner's murmurs and lamentations. he mounted to her chamber. to set the entrance door wide open. but fond of external show. however. spite of the ardent rays of a noonday sun. but whether for his own pleasure or that of his rider would have been difficult to say. not a festivity took place without himself and wife being among the spectators. he was a man of sober habits and moderate desires. the road on which he so eagerly strained his sight was void and lonely as a desert at mid-day. During the days of his prosperity. all disappeared. altogether presenting so uninviting an appearance. between whom the kindest and most amiable understanding appeared to exist. 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. though fruitlessly. At this unusual sound. which led away to the north and south. and silver buckles for the shoes. endeavoring to turn up some grain or insect suited to their palate--to the deserted road. necklaces. both for himself and wife. then. more for the shelter than the profit it afforded. a huge black dog came rushing to meet the daring assailant of his ordinarily tranquil abode. But. first taking care. Availing himself of a handle that projected from a half-fallen door. that no one in his senses could have imagined that any traveller. while La Carconte displayed the charming fashion prevalent among the women of Arles. He dressed in the picturesque costume worn upon grand occasions by the inhabitants of the south of France. meagre trees. and grumbling to himself as he went. Caderousse. at liberty to regulate his hours for journeying. snarling and displaying his sharp white teeth with a determined . striped gaiters. then. by degrees. at his place of observation before the door. as usual. At the moment Caderousse quitted his sentry-like watch before the door. Like other dwellers in the south. had Caderousse but retained his post a few minutes longer. velvet vests. from his pocket. advancing to the door. had given up any further participation in the pomps and vanities. struck thrice with the end of his iron-shod stick.unfortunate inn-keeper did not writhe under the double misery of seeing the hateful canal carry off his customers and his profits. and. was. he tied the animal safely and having drawn a red cotton handkerchief. as an invitation to any chance traveller who might be passing. The horse was of Hungarian breed. There it lay stretching out into one interminable line of dust and sand. Having arrived before the Pont du Gard. wiped away the perspiration that streamed from his brow. embroidered bodices. Nevertheless. elegantly worked stockings. However that might have been. would choose to expose himself in such a formidable Sahara. led his steed by the bridle in search of some place to which he could secure him. as the moving object drew nearer. and ambled along at an easy pace. dressed in black. dismounting. he might have caught a dim outline of something approaching from the direction of Bellegarde.

with your permission. then. mine host of the Pont du Gard besought his guest to enter. till the trade fell off. I presume." "Gaspard Caderousse. "I am Gaspard Caderousse. Upon issuing forth from his subterranean retreat at the expiration of five minutes. most welcome!" repeated the astonished Caderousse. quite alone. "will you be quiet? Pray don't heed him. But talking of heat." Then perceiving for the first time the garb of the traveller he had to entertain. anxious not to lose the present opportunity of finding a customer for one of the few bottles of Cahors still remaining in his possession. sir. we will resume our conversation from where we left off. You formerly lived. practically so.--Christian and surname are the same. while Margotin. is there nothing I can offer you by way of refreshment?" "Yes." answered the host." cried he." said Caderousse. M. At that moment a heavy footstep was heard descending the wooden staircase that led from the upper floor. I make no doubt a glass of good wine would be acceptable this dreadfully hot day. sir!--he only barks. at your service. who. skinny neck resting on his lap. and had established himself very comfortably between his knees. "Yes." "And you followed the business of a tailor?" "True. It is so hot at Marseilles. "Are you quite alone?" inquired the guest. I believe in the Allees de Meillan. hastily raised a trap-door in the floor of the apartment they were in. at least. he deemed it as well to terminate this dumb show. speaking to the dog.hostility that abundantly proved how little he was accustomed to society. as Caderousse placed before him the bottle of wine and a glass." rejoined the priest." 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. which served both as parlor and kitchen. I was a tailor. and then. sir. "You are welcome. Caderousse?" "Yes. had crept up to him." "As you please. Caderousse hastily exclaimed: "A thousand pardons! I really did not observe whom I had the honor to receive under my poor roof. "Now. speaking with a strong Italian accent. he never bites. with many bows and courteous smiles. and. whose animosity seemed appeased by the unusual command of the traveller for refreshments. sir. leaning his elbow on a table." replied the man--"or. 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. he found the abbe seated upon a wooden stool. Margotin. then. while his dim eye was fixed earnestly on the traveller's face. that really I believe that the respectable inhabitants will in time go without any clothing whatever. let me have a bottle of your best wine. What would the abbe please to have? What refreshment can I offer? All I have is at his service. his long. "You are. on the fourth floor?" "I did. "Quite. and therefore said. even more surprised at the question than he had been by the silence which had preceded it. .

"and you do well to repeat them. and unable to render me the least assistance." continued the inn-keeper. be able to prove to you how completely you are in error. sooner or later. "You remind me." said the abbe. who is the only person in the house besides myself." "You are wrong to speak thus." "What proofs do you require?" "Did you." said Caderousse with a sigh. penetrating glance. fairly sustaining the scrutiny of the abbe's gaze. "for I am firmly persuaded that. "In the first place. in the year 1814 or 1815. know anything of a young sailor named Dantes?" "Dantes? Did I know poor dear Edmond? Why. but in this world a man does not thrive the better for being honest. "Why. whose countenance flushed darkly as he caught the penetrating gaze of the abbe fixed on him. but. "it is easy to perceive I am not a rich man." The abbe fixed on him a searching. and." "Said to bear the name!" repeated Caderousse. "that is more than every one can say nowadays." added he. if what you assert be true. "one is free to believe them or not. then?" said the priest. honest--I can certainly say that much for myself." said the abbe. "Yes. sir. what has become of poor Edmond? Did you know him? Is he alive and at liberty? Is he prosperous and happy?" "He died a more wretched. and the priest saw him wiping the tears from his eyes with the corner of the red handkerchief twisted round his head. "that the young man concerning whom I asked you was said to bear the name of Edmond. Edmond Dantes and myself were intimate friends!" exclaimed Caderousse. and the wicked punished." "Such words as those belong to your profession. hopeless. heart-broken prisoner than the felons who pay the penalty of their crimes at the galleys of Toulon." continued he significantly. with a show of interest. "and perhaps I may. with a bitter expression of countenance. ." said the priest. "I can boast with truth of being an honest man. is laid up with illness. but tell me." A deadly pallor followed the flush on the countenance of Caderousse. he was so called as truly as I myself bore the appellation of Gaspard Caderousse. as one pleases. glancing round as he spoke at the scanty furnishings of the apartment.for my poor wife. becoming excited and eager. with a hand on his breast and shaking his head. calm eye of the questioner seemed to dilate with feverish scrutiny. I pray. "Ah." "So much the better for you. while the clear. in my own person. I must be satisfied that you are the person I am in search of." "What mean you?" inquired Caderousse with a look of surprise. the good will be rewarded. poor thing!" "You are married." answered Caderousse. who turned away.

" observed the abbe. unless it be of imprisonment?" Caderousse wiped away the large beads of perspiration that gathered on his brow. I have. "who had been his companion in misfortune." "Then. speaking in the highly colored language of the south. I suppose. Instead of employing this diamond in attempting to bribe his jailers. was possessed of a diamond of immense value. send down brimstone and fire." "And of what did he die?" asked Caderousse in a choking voice. if he really hates the wicked. deeply and sincerely lamented his unhappy fate." resumed the abbe. I confess." "And so he was. do young and strong men die in prison." "And for that reason. becoming more and more fixed. "You knew the poor lad." continued the abbe. glowing looks. but had been released from prison during the second restoration. and consume them altogether?" "You speak as though you had loved this young Dantes. sir. But I swear to you. "I was called to see him on his dying bed." And here the look of the abbe. even in his dying moments. I swear to you. and that none but the wicked prosper. poor fellow!" murmured Caderousse." replied Caderousse."Poor fellow. think you." asked Caderousse. "that Dantes. I envied him his good fortune. and to clear his memory should any foul spot or stain have fallen on it. when they have scarcely numbered their thirtieth year. Dantes carefully preserved it. is another proof that good people are never rewarded on this earth." murmured Caderousse. "How should he have been otherwise? Ah. there. searching eye of the abbe was employed in scrutinizing the agitated features of the inn-keeper. "A rich Englishman. "And so I did. "that it was a stone of immense value?" ." continued Caderousse. seemed to rest with ill-concealed satisfaction on the gloomy depression which was rapidly spreading over the countenance of Caderousse. then?" continued Caderousse. the poor fellow told you the truth. swore by his crucified Redeemer. "Well. Ah. sir. who might only have taken it and then betrayed him to the governor. "the world grows worse and worse. 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. that he was utterly ignorant of the cause of his detention. since then. during which the fixed. sir. he besought me to try and clear up a mystery he had never been able to penetrate. with eager. by everything a man holds dear. "though once. "But the strangest part of the story is. Why does not God. as he is said to do. that I might administer to him the consolations of religion. that in the event of his getting out of prison he might have wherewithal to live. without taking any notice of his companion's vehemence. "Of what. for the sale of such a diamond would have quite sufficed to make his fortune." There was a brief silence. this jewel he bestowed on Dantes upon himself quitting the prison.

" The sharp gaze of Caderousse was instantly directed towards the priest's garments. 'The third of my friends." answered the abbe. The name of one of the four friends is Caderousse." "To be sure."Why." cried Caderousse. "Allow me to finish first.--his name was Fernand. I have it with me. waving his hand. "I have forgotten what he called her. and slowly swallowing its contents. and after pouring some into a glass. sir? Did Edmond make you his heir?" "No. is worth fifty thousand francs?" "It is. "To one in Edmond's position the diamond certainly was of great value. and the third. the abbe opened it. "'Another of the number." said Caderousse eagerly. who was about to break in upon the abbe's speech. without seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse. 'You will go to Marseilles." "Bless me!" exclaimed Caderousse. although my rival. set in a ring of admirable workmanship." "No.'" continued the abbe. "you say.'" The inn-keeper shivered. resuming his usual placidity of manner. almost breathless with eager admiration. besides the maiden to whom I was betrothed' he said.'" A fiendish smile played over the features of Caderousse. merely his testamentary executor. "Mercedes it was. "it was not of such a size as that." "Go on. It was estimated at fifty thousand francs. stay." replied the abbe. Calmly drawing forth from his pocket a small box covered with black shagreen. "True. in spite of being my rival. everything is relative. "And that diamond. but you shall judge for yourself. "But how comes the diamond in your possession." said the abbe." urged Caderousse. with a stifled sigh. the abbe." continued the abbe. said. as he placed his empty glass on the table.--"Where did we leave off?" "The name of Edmond's betrothed was Mercedes. Do you understand?" . entertained a very sincere affection for me. you can do so afterwards. "Bring me a carafe of water. without the setting. said. and displayed to the dazzled eyes of Caderousse the sparkling jewel it contained. that of my betrothed was'--Stay." replied the abbe. while its brilliant hues seemed still to dance before the eyes of the fascinated inn-keeper. "fifty thousand francs! Surely the diamond was as large as a nut to be worth all that. was much attached to me. 'and I feel convinced they have all unfeignedly grieved over my loss. as he closed the box. Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding.' said Dantes. and returned it to his pocket." said the abbe. and then if you have any observations to make. "'is called Danglars. when the latter." "Mercedes. 'I once possessed four dear and faithful friends.--for you understand. which is also valuable. I repeat his words just as he uttered them. as though hoping to discover the location of the treasure.

was his own father. the doctors called his complaint gastro-enteritis. I have said. "Why. about a year after the disappearance of his son the poor old man died." "Starvation!" exclaimed the abbe. she had feebly dragged herself down the stairs. How do you know the motives that person may have for trying to . Can you enlighten me on that point?" "I do not know who could if I could not." "Politeness. making a strong effort to appear indifferent. too true!" ejaculated Caderousse. who saw him in his dying moments." "Of what did he die?" "Why." "'You will sell this diamond. "And you are a fool for having said anything about it. I say he died of"--Caderousse paused."Perfectly. "Why should you meddle with what does not concern you?" The two men turned quickly. but I. Oh. "you only mentioned four persons. yes. and give an equal portion to these good friends." said Caderousse. The fifth sharer in Edmond's bequest. you will divide the money into five equal parts. anxiously and eagerly." answered Caderousse. his acquaintances say he died of grief. wife. of downright starvation. I should like to know? Better study a little common prudence. "This gentleman asks me for information. is too horrible for belief." "Because the fifth is dead. almost suffocated by the contending passions which assailed him. I was unable to obtain any particulars of his end. seated on the lower step. Ah. The very dogs that wander houseless and homeless in the streets find some pitying hand to cast them a mouthful of bread. I lived almost on the same floor with the poor old man. and. "but from the length of time that has elapsed since the death of the elder Dantes. the only persons who have loved me upon earth. head on knees. the vilest animals are not suffered to die by such a death as that." said a voice from the top of the stairs. springing from his seat. should be allowed to perish of hunger in the midst of other men who call themselves Christians. and saw the sickly countenance of La Carconte peering between the baluster rails. "Why. "Mind your own business." replied Caderousse sharply. a Christian. you simpleton!" retorted La Carconte. "Of what?" asked the priest. attracted by the sound of voices." "I learned so much at Marseilles. "Why. "the poor old man did die. "What have you to do with politeness. which common politeness will not permit me to refuse. it is impossible--utterly impossible!" "What I have said." replied the abbe." "Too true. and that a man. she had listened to the foregoing conversation. I believe. as I hear.'" "But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse.

then. and at some moment when nobody is expecting it. like my husband there. Surely. Again the abbe had been obliged to swallow a draught of water to calm the emotions that threatened to overpower him. have been persuaded to tell all they know. behold trouble and misery. "Do you. then. my good woman.extract all he can from you?" "I pledge you my word. say what it was!" . "that you named just now as being one of Dantes' faithful and attached friends. or he might have found it more difficult. When he had sufficiently recovered himself. that I solemnly promise you. he would not have perished by so dreadful a death. but somehow the poor old man had contracted a profound hatred for Fernand--the very person." said the abbe. madam. whatever people may say. he was not altogether forsaken. know in what manner Fernand injured Dantes?" inquired the abbe of Caderousse. but when poor." "Speak out then. Poor Edmond. leaving the two speakers to resume the conversation. then let her head again drop upon her knees. to pardon his enemies. in his native language. and went into a fit of ague." retorted the woman. which was not altogether devoid of rude poetry." La Carconte muttered a few inarticulate words. though evidently irritated and annoyed by the interruption. Whatever evils may befall you. who cannot even see whence all their afflictions come. make yourself perfectly easy. nay. "I cannot help being more frightened at the idea of the malediction of the dead than the hatred of the living." continued Caderousse. but remaining so as to be able to hear every word they uttered. addressing the abbe. and that you husband can incur no risk. "Do I? No one better. I beg of you. from her seat on the stairs. they will not be occasioned by my instrumentality. said. but. but it was fortunate that he never knew." "And was he not so?" asked the abbe. silly folks. that's all very fine. are heaped on the unfortunate wretches." "Imbecile!" exclaimed La Carconte. Gaspard!" murmured the woman. that the miserable old man you were telling me of was forsaken by every one." "Ah. he was cruelly deceived." "Nay. provided he answers me candidly. he said. "that my intentions are good. when on his deathbed." "Why. had not such been the case. "It appears. "for Mercedes the Catalan and Monsieur Morrel were very kind to him. And." added Caderousse with a bitter smile. the promises and assurances of safety are quickly forgotten. and all sorts of persecutions. "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. "mind what you are saying!" Caderousse made no reply to these words. "Nothing is easier than to begin with fair promises and assurances of nothing to fear. that he believed everybody's professions of friendship." continued Caderousse. "Gaspard.

why. "It does. that a bright flash of brilliant hues passed before the dazzled gaze of Caderousse. what would it be to them? no more than a drop of water in the ocean. I should not hesitate. "Why. "No. "Are these persons. it would take up too much time. just as you please. so rich and powerful?" "Do you not know their history?" "I do not. my good friend. "those two could crush you at a single blow!" "How so?" inquired the abbe. My first business will be to dispose of this diamond. what a magnificent jewel!" cried the astonished woman." So saying." replied Caderousse. "It is a beautiful diamond left by poor Edmond Dantes. Fernand. in a tone that indicated utter indifference on his part. the gift of poor Edmond was not meant for such traitors as Fernand and Danglars. you are master--but if you take my advice you'll hold your tongue." "You prefer." "Oh. so let the matter end. opened it. Mercedes. perhaps. then said. truly." chimed in La Carconte. "do as you will. his betrothed bride. then." "Well. and myself. "with the addition of an equal division . rising and descending to the chamber with a tolerably firm step. what good would it do?" asked Caderousse. wife. to be sold. But you tell me he is no more. and fulfil my promise to the dying man. "what diamond are you talking about?" "Why. so let all such feeling be buried with him. Pray relate it to me!" Caderousse seemed to reflect for a few moments." "Well. "that I should bestow on men you say are false and treacherous. "You say truly. "you are at liberty. does it not?" asked Caderousse." "Remember. the abbe again draw the small box from his pocket." returned Caderousse. did you not hear all we said?" inquired Caderousse. either to speak or be silent. "Wife. and came to me and begged that I would candidly tell which were his true and which his false friends. I respect your scruples and admire your sentiments." replied the abbe. then. "If the poor lad were living."Gaspard!" cried La Carconte. for my own part. and the money divided between his father. Danglars. "come here!" "Diamond!" exclaimed La Carconte. "I don't know but what you're right!" "So you will say nothing?" asked the abbe. The jewel is worth at least fifty thousand francs. wife!" cried he in a hoarse voice. "The fifth part of the profits from this stone belongs to us then. I shall do my duty as conscientiously as I can." said the abbe." returned the abbe. the reward intended for faithful friendship?" "That is true enough. and contrived to hold it in such a light. besides. and therefore can have nothing to do with hatred or revenge.

that is all. I could distribute the legacy according to the wishes of the testator." said the former. La Carconte then entered her chamber. consider well what you are about to do!" "I have both reflected and decided. "do as you like. so much the better. as though to ascertain if his horse were sufficiently refreshed to continue his journey. and her teeth rattling in her head. I wash my hands of the affair. if we chose!" "Do you believe it?" "Why. in order that I may execute Edmond's last wishes. not mine. wife." "I don't call those friends who betray and ruin you. and large drops of perspiration rolled from his heated brow. through your assistance." "And why among us four?" inquired Caderousse." said the abbe. perhaps crime. "There. in spite of the intense heat of the weather. her body convulsed with chills. why. "no more do I. in a warning tone. surely a man of his holy profession would not deceive us!" "Well. "Not because I have the least desire to learn anything you may please to conceal from me." answered the abbe calmly. "As being the friends Edmond esteemed most faithful and devoted to him. she turned round. Arrived at the top stair. ." asked the abbe." "I hope it may be so. "Well. you see. I said I looked upon it as a sacrilegious profanation to reward treachery. uncertain tread." replied La Carconte." The agitation of Caderousse became extreme. muttering voice.of that part intended for the elder Dantes. For my part. "Gaspard." answered he. and that was what I was observing to this gentleman just now. the flooring of which creaked beneath her heavy. to her husband." replied Caderousse. "this splendid diamond might all be ours. but simply that if. which I believe myself at liberty to divide equally with the four survivors. she once more climbed the staircase leading to her chamber. "Of course not!" rejoined Caderousse quickly. that I do so. as she proceeded towards her arm-chair. into which she fell as though exhausted. his face flushed with cupidity." murmured the wife in her turn. "I certainly think you act wisely in so doing." So saying. and called out. Caderousse and his wife exchanged looks of deep meaning. "it is your fault. As he saw the abbe rise from his seat and go towards the door. as he returned to the apartment below." "Remember." said the priest. "what have you made up your mind to do?" "To tell you all I know. in a low. "I am all attention. as he replaced the jewel and its case in the pocket of his cassock." was the reply. You will have the goodness to furnish me with the address of both Fernand and Danglars.

"I will. and confessions die in my breast. "say no more about it. that you will never let any one know that it was I who supplied them. I will take all the consequences upon myself. "perhaps you know all the earlier part of it?" "Yes. and not to man. shaking his head." answered the abbe." With these words he went stealthily to the door." said the trembling voice of La Carconte. "Enough. which he closed. where he himself would be in deep shadow." "The history is a sad one. which would be a pity. I can see it all before me this moment. the persons of whom you are about to speak." replied the abbe. this is no affair of mine. "Edmond related to me everything until the moment when he was arrested in a small cabaret close to Marseilles. I even believe I ought to undeceive you as to the friendship which poor Edmond thought so sincere and unquestionable. "I am a priest. as he was accustomed to do at night." This positive assurance seemed to give Caderousse a little courage. or rather clinched together. the last wishes of our friend. sir. if you ever make use of the details I am about to give you. he prepared to give his whole attention to Caderousse. bolted and barred it. as though through the flooring of her chamber she viewed the scene that was enacting below. and if they only laid the tips of their fingers on me. never may know. while the light would be fully thrown on the narrator. with head bent down and hands clasped." And he began his story." "Was it not his betrothal feast?" . "Remember. enough!" replied Caderousse. "Why. then. During this time the abbe had chosen his place for listening at his ease. then."Stop a minute. besides. "First. our only desire is to carry out. exactly opposite to him. for the persons of whom I am about to talk are rich and powerful. in a fitting manner. He removed his seat into a corner of the room. who seated himself on the little stool. without reserve." answered Caderousse. then. and not a Frenchman. as without hatred." said the abbe." "What is that?" inquired the abbe." "Make yourself easy. sir. "Edmond talked to me a great deal about the old man for whom he had the deepest love." said Caderousse. Speak. Chapter 27. The Story. the whole truth. and it is as well that your visit hither should be made known only to ourselves. and. and belong to God. "Well. Recollect." said Caderousse. yes." "At La Reserve! Oh. by way of still greater precaution. I do not know. I should break to pieces like glass. and I shall shortly retire to my convent. my friend. if you please." said Caderousse." "Begin with his father. I am an Italian. tell the truth. "we might be interrupted in the most interesting part of my story. under these circumstances. which I have only quitted to fulfil the last wishes of a dying man. "you must make me a promise.

and paced up and down his chamber the whole day. One day. "From day to day he lived on alone. and went to visit the old man. besides. for my poor dear boy loves me better than anything in the world. contrary to his custom. however. all the eloquent words and imploring language he made use of." replied Caderousse. but the old man would not consent. for I am the oldest. The next day Mercedes came to implore the protection of M. when Dantes was arrested. "Dantes himself only knew that which personally concerned him." "Well. and not touched food since the previous day. but he seemed to dislike seeing me. when she saw him so miserable and heart-broken. although I was certain he was at home." said the priest."It was and the feast that began so gayly had a very sorrowful ending. it was more than piety. 'No. why you see we leave off after a time seeing persons who are in sorrow. in spite of her own grief and despair. M.' was the old man's reply. entered. sir. for the grief of the poor father gave me great uneasiness. for I was anxious that Mercedes should persuade the old man to accompany her. and the poor girl. Monsieur Morrel hastened to obtain the particulars. she did not obtain it. and. but his door was closed. Morrel and Mercedes came to see him. I know not why.--'Be assured. de Villefort. endeavored to console him. he would not make any answer.' However well disposed a person may be." "But did you not go up-stairs and try to console the poor old man?" asked the abbe. and every step he took went to my heart as really as if his foot had pressed against my breast. followed by four soldiers. I am quite happy. for if I were a father and felt such excessive grief as the old man does. and if he gets out of prison he will come and see me the first thing. however. having passed a sleepless night. and I only saw from time to time . a police commissary. I heard his sobs. he said to her. and what would he think if I did not wait here for him?' I heard all this from the window. it was more than grief. and Dantes was arrested. for his footsteps over my head night and day did not leave me a moment's repose. and for myself. and up to this point I know all. and instead of expecting him." "Yes. and more and more solitary. I cannot now repeat to you. sir. I assure you I could not sleep either. he had admitted Mercedes. said then to myself. folded up his wedding suit with tears in his eyes. for I could not bear it. 'It is really well. "Ah. but when I reached his door he was no longer weeping but praying. my dear daughter. for I was underneath him and heard him walking the whole night. for he never beheld again the five persons I have named to you. and hate the Jesuits. and they were very sad. I should throw myself into the sea at once. and I could not resist my desire to go up to him. 'I will not leave this house. she wished him to go with her that she might take care of him. when.'" "Poor father!" murmured the priest. One night. who am no canter. and I am very glad that I have not any children. and I. and did not find in my memory or heart all he is now saying. "we cannot console those who will not be consoled. or heard mention of any one of them. The old man returned alone to his home. they make one melancholy. and so at last old Dantes was left all to himself. it is he who is awaiting us. and would not go to bed at all. he is dead. and he was one of these. and of course shall see him first.

"it is very affecting." said he in a hoarse voice. but I looked through the keyhole. which was granted to him. sir. with a shaking hand. and cried so that they were actually frightened. one with a letter. a horrid event.'" The abbe rose from his chair. and the doctor said it was inflammation of the bowels. I was there." The abbe uttered a kind of groan. Morrel went away. and then resumed his seat. and the other from ambition. therefore. At length the poor old fellow reached the end of all he had. Morrel's wish also." "Mercedes came again. therefore." The abbe. "and remember too. and pressed his trembling hand against his parched throat. made two turns round the chamber. the old man would not take any sustenance. This was M. sir. and M. Morrel bringing a doctor.--Fernand and Danglars. he owed three quarters' rent. by his bedside. and saw him so pale and haggard. making a sign to the Catalan that he had left his purse on the chimney-piece. seized a glass of water that was standing by him half-full. I then resolved to go up to him at all risks. and ordered him a limited diet. because the landlord came into my apartment when he left his." replied the abbe. Tell me. and she found him so altered that she was even more anxious than before to have him taken to her own home. "you have promised to tell me everything. and I never shall forget the old man's smile at this prescription. sir. and the father with famine?" "Two men jealous of him. I know this. and that he sold by degrees what he had to pay for his subsistence. that believing him very ill. at length (after nine days of despair and fasting). indeed." "They denounced Edmond as a Bonapartist agent." he added in an almost menacing tone." said the abbe." "Which of the two denounced him? Which was the real delinquent?" "Both. but. They both came immediately. too. "This was. with red eyes and pale cheeks. does it not. but I guessed what these bundles were. Morrel and then ran on to Mercedes. sir." "How was this jealousy manifested? Speak on. swallowed it at one gulp." . 'If you ever see my Edmond again. he had an excuse for not eating any more. and saying to Mercedes. tell him I die blessing him. Mercedes remained. "And you believe he died"-"Of hunger. I went and told M. but the old man resisted. M. the doctor had put him on a diet. "The story interests you. and the other put it in the post.strangers go up to him and come down again with some bundle they tried to hide. as it was men's and not God's doing. "Yes. "I am as certain of it as that we two are Christians. on the fourth I heard nothing. From that time he received all who came. The door was closed. But availing himself of the doctor's order. he begged for another week. cursing those who had caused his misery. sir?" inquired Caderousse. one from love. the old man died. "The more so. and they threatened to turn him out." said Caderousse. of hunger. who would fain have conveyed the old man against his consent. For the first three days I heard him walking about as usual. who are these men who killed the son with despair." "Tell me of those men.

" ." "I understand--you allowed matters to take their course. I often ask pardon of God. and so I always say to La Carconte. Edmond is dead.' I confess I had my fears. sir. sir?" asked Caderousse. is no doubt the cause of my abject condition. true!" said Caderousse in a choking voice." said the abbe. and he added quickly. 'and did really put in to the Island of Elba. you must have been an eye-witness." "True. that was all. "go on. and I held my tongue. because this action. but Danglars restrained me. 'Hold your tongue." "But. "Nothing."And where was this letter written?" "At La Reserve. and thus to accuse yourself is to deserve pardon." "Unfortunately. Faria. and has not pardoned me. the day before the betrothal feast. I was there." murmured the abbe.'" And Caderousse bowed his head with every sign of real repentance. I confess. you were an accomplice. sir. "Oh." "And did you not remonstrate against such infamy?" asked the abbe. and very anxious to speak. astonished." "It was Danglars who wrote the denunciation with his left hand. that his writing might not be recognized. when she complains. and if they find this letter upon him. I swear to you. and Fernand who put it in the post. I had only an indistinct understanding of what was passing around me. and perfectly harmless. if he is really charged with a letter for the Bonapartist committee at Paris." replied Caderousse. "you have spoken unreservedly. sir. I am expiating a moment of selfishness. how well did you judge men and things!" "What did you please to say. 'If he should really be guilty. woman." "I!" said Caderousse. "if not. I said all that a man in such a state could say." "Yes. but they both assured me that it was a jest they were carrying on. those who have supported him will pass for his accomplices. Faria. in the state in which politics then were. nothing." exclaimed the abbe suddenly." "'Twas so. It was cowardly. "I was there." answered Caderousse.--"No one. then. "and remorse preys on me night and day." "Next day--next day." "Yes. you must have seen plain enough what they had been doing.' said he. "you were there yourself." "Sir. then--'twas so. it is the will of God. but in order to have known everything so well. though you were present when Dantes was arrested. yet you said nothing. "they had made me drink to such an excess that I nearly lost all perception. "Well. the only one with which I have seriously to reproach myself in all my life. "who told you I was there?" The abbe saw he had overshot the mark." replied the priest. but it was not criminal. sir.

a lieutenant in the army. who was about to marry the man she loved. he is a ruined man. When the emperor returned. besides. and. that on the second restoration he was persecuted as a Bonapartist. Ten times. "so it is. he has a wife. "And it is thus heaven recompenses virtue. and . with which they paid the old man's debts. with my poor wife dying of fever before my very eyes." "And. implored. "He is reduced almost to the last extremity--nay." replied Caderousse. Morrel. happy as myself. who through everything has behaved like an angel." added Caderousse. he has a daughter. "who was he?" "The owner of the Pharaon and patron of Dantes." replied the abbe. and the night or two before his death."He did not know. full of courage and real regard. and which is expected from the Indies with a cargo of cochineal and indigo. sir. a son." There was a brief silence. he has. as I have already said. like the others. If he were alone in the world he would blow out his brains. Twenty times he interceded for Edmond. without doing harm to any one. he has lost five ships in two years. after having acquired a most honorable name in the trade of Marseilles. I. happy." interrupted Caderousse. If this ship founders. and there would be an end. "In that case. all this." continued Caderousse. "is M. "You see. and so energetically. and offered to receive him in his own house. he came to see Dantes' father. "Yes." "And has the unfortunate man wife or children?" inquired the abbe. I have the purse still by me--a large one. as he had lived. "he should be rich." said the abbe. he is almost at the point of dishonor. but whose family now will not allow him to wed the daughter of a ruined man. after five and twenty years of labor. M." Caderousse smiled bitterly. as I told you. "The part of an honest man. Morrel unhappy?" exclaimed the abbe." "And what part did he play in this sad drama?" inquired the abbe." "Horrible!" ejaculated the priest. threatened. made of red silk. and his only hope now is in that very Pharaon which poor Dantes commanded. Morrel is utterly ruined. he wrote. "Yes. and buried him decently. "But he knows it all now. as you may suppose. the abbe rose and paced up and down pensively. who never did a bad action but that I have told you of--am in destitution." asked the abbe. Morrel still alive?" "Yes. and so Edmond's father died." he said. only augments his sorrows. and then resumed his seat." "How?" "Yes. has suffered by the bankruptcy of three large houses. "they say the dead know everything." said he. instead of lessening. he left his purse on the mantelpiece. "You have two or three times mentioned a M. "What! M.

then. on the recommendation of M. Danglars is happy. "he is happy. with ten horses in his stables. and therefore the most guilty?" "What has become of him? Why. and Fernand was compelled to join. as old Dantes did. but as I was older than Fernand. sir--he has both fortune and position--both. and they have made him a baron." "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. There must have been in his life some strange secret that no one knows. The night after that battle he was sentry at the door of a general who carried on a secret correspondence with the enemy. de Servieux. He returned to . by what visible steps has he attained this high fortune or high position?" "Both. He proposed to Fernand to accompany him. and was at the battle of Ligny. without education or resources. and trebled or quadrupled his capital. That same night the general was to go over to the English. he has married a second time." "But." "What has become of Danglars. and had just married my poor wife. but listen. and now he is the Baron Danglars. but his action was rewarded by the Bourbons. went to the frontier with his regiment. Morrel. and made a fortune." "Ah!" said the abbe." "And Fernand?" "Fernand? Why. then with that money he speculated in the funds. deserted his post. The Bourbons left him quietly enough at the Catalans. in a peculiar tone. Fernand agreed to do so. daughter of M. Fernand would have been court-martialed if Napoleon had remained on the throne. with a fine residence in the Rue de Mont-Blanc. having first married his banker's daughter. while honest men have been reduced to misery. but if a large fortune produces happiness. the king's chamberlain. a widow.I unable to do anything in the world for her. During the war with Spain he was employed in the commissariat of the French army. He is a millionaire. while Fernand and Danglars are rolling in wealth. Fernand was enrolled in the active troop. I was only sent to the coast. and was taken. and you will understand. Some days before the return of the emperor. and I know not how many millions in his strongbox." "This must be impossible!" "It would seem so. and followed the general." "But how could a poor Catalan fisher-boy. who did not know his crime." "How is that?" "Because their deeds have brought them good fortune. who is in high favor at court. much the same story. but Napoleon returned. Fernand was drafted. and." "And it has staggered everybody. a special levy was made. make a fortune? I confess this staggers me. as cashier into a Spanish bank. the instigator. a Madame de Nargonne. he left Marseilles. six footmen in his ante-chamber. I shall die of hunger. I went too. who left him a widower.

" "Mercedes was at first in the deepest despair at the blow which deprived her of Edmond." The abbe opened his mouth. Rue du Helder. Paris. as you know. received promises and made pledges on his own part. Fernand's career was checked by the long peace which seemed likely to endure throughout Europe.France with the epaulet of sub-lieutenant. during the Spanish war--that is to say. Fernand was a Spaniard. who is in the highest favor. still having his name kept on the army roll. "Go on. in fact. In the midst of her despair. after a day of accustomed vigil at the angle of two roads leading to Marseilles from the Catalans. then. making an effort at self-control." continued Caderousse. The war with Spain being ended." replied Caderousse. Greece only had risen against Turkey. he said. won over the support of the royalists at the capital and in the provinces. This was the departure of Fernand--of Fernand. as you know." "So that now?"--inquired the abbe." "Destiny! destiny!" murmured the abbe. got on very intimate terms with him. no news of Fernand. but listen: this was not all. a new affliction overtook her. but before he died he recompensed the services of Fernand by leaving him a considerable sum. "it seems as if I were listening to the story of a dream. Ali Pasha was killed. and as the protection of the general. when he was gazetted lieutenant-general. "And Mercedes--they tell me that she has disappeared?" "Disappeared." said Caderousse. "he owns a magnificent house--No. and received the title of count and the cross of an officer of the Legion of Honor." said the abbe. all eyes were turned towards Athens--it was the fashion to pity and support the Greeks." "Has she made a fortune also?" inquired the abbe. hesitated for a moment. I have told you of her attempts to propitiate M. de Villefort. rendered such services in this brief campaign that. and. Fernand went. found Danglars there. "Yes. that what you tell me seems less astonishing than it otherwise might. at the time when Danglars made his early speculations. One evening. he was a captain in 1823. "yes. 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. gave countenance to volunteer assistance. and being sent to Spain to ascertain the feeling of his fellow-countrymen. and had begun her war of independence. "So that now. was accorded to him. whose crime she did not know. as the sun disappears. he was made colonel. "Mercedes is at this moment one of the greatest ladies in Paris. Fernand sought and obtained leave to go and serve in Greece. she returned to her home . with an ironical smile. guided his regiment by paths known to himself alone through the mountain gorges which were held by the royalists. to rise the next day with still more splendor. The French government. no companionship save that of an old man who was dying with despair. after the taking of Trocadero. without protecting them openly. But I have seen things so extraordinary. 27. her devotion to the elder Dantes. and whom she regarded as her brother. Three months passed and still she wept--no news of Edmond. with which he returned to France. Some time after. and Mercedes remained alone.

" replied Caderousse. as I have told you. came now in full force upon her mind. and Fernand.' The old man died. "there was only a change of bride-grooms. where. "Yes. Besides. then." continued the abbe. to be able to instruct her child. but which was only joy at being no longer alone in the world. Fernand had never been hated--he was only not precisely loved. "Her son?" said he. it must be confessed. where Fernand had left her. music--everything." "The very church in which she was to have married Edmond. What more could the most devoted lover desire?" Then he murmured the words of the English poet. Fernand saw this. 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." The abbe started. "but although in the eyes of the world she appeared calm. had he lived. He was now a lieutenant. dressed in the uniform of a sub-lieutenant. "did he know so little of his lovely betrothed? Mercedes might have been a queen. more happy. 'Our Edmond is dead. beautiful but uneducated. "that makes eighteen months in all. he would return to us. she nearly fainted as she passed La Reserve. Fernand. and then." said the abbe. had not become the wife of another. Mercedes. but it seemed as if a part of her past life had returned to her. and eight days after the wedding they left Marseilles." "Did you ever see Mercedes again?" inquired the priest. if the crown were to be placed on the heads of the loveliest and most intelligent. with a bitter smile. too.'" "Six months afterwards. if he were not. and to depart himself. There were too many unpleasant possibilities associated with the Catalans. she did this in order to distract her mind." "Well. It was not the one she wished for most. I believe. and wrung her hands in agony. Mercedes seized Fernand's hands with a transport which he took for love. which she had always repelled before when it was suggested to her by another. perhaps was dead. that she . Another possessed all Mercedes' heart. during the Spanish war. old Dantes incessantly said to her." "Oh." continued Caderousse. and seeing at last a friend. turned anxiously around. She learned drawing." "But. "Yes. "little Albert. stood before her. Suddenly she heard a step she knew. and she developed with his growing fortune. "she must have received an education herself. after long hours of solitary sorrow." murmured the priest. that other was absent. had disappeared. "the marriage took place in the church of Accoules. she was attending to the education of her son. At his first coming he had not said a word of love to Mercedes. At this last thought Mercedes burst into a flood of tears." "So that. eighteen months before. between ourselves. "'Frailty. And then." proceeded Caderousse. at the second he reminded her that he loved her." replied Caderousse. the betrothal had been celebrated with him whom she might have known she still loved had she looked to the bottom of her heart. sir. Mercedes begged for six months more in which to await and mourn for Edmond. Fernand's fortune was already waxing great. for he would have been there to reproach her infidelity. perchance. I understood from Edmond that she was the daughter of a simple fisherman. the door opened. at Perpignan.more depressed than ever. and when he learned of the old man's death he returned. Mercedes was married. but the thought. thy name is woman.

" "Oh. Take it. I did not know him." "You are mistaken. putting out one hand timidly. and yet"--Caderousse paused. but Madame de Morcerf saw me. do not jest with me!" "This diamond was to have been shared among his friends. Take the diamond. she is not happy. and I never make a jest of such feelings. I called on Fernand. perhaps. and soon after left Marseilles. no doubt he has been as lucky as the rest. while his justice reposes. and forgotten. "Oh." "What. who would not even receive me. then. "no doubt fortune and honors have comforted her. and she only filled her head in order to alleviate the weight on her heart." said Caderousse. sir. and I had nothing to ask of him. she is rich." "And M. assist me. who at once shut the blind. he married Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. the abbe took the diamond from his pocket. then.might forget. as you see. wretched. have remained poor. I thought my old friends would. and I repeat my wish that this sum may suffice to release you from your wretchedness." replied the abbe. "What makes you believe this?" "Why. I only know that some time after Edmond's arrest. and saw Mercedes. So I went to Danglars. I raised my head quickly. my friend. "And yet what?" asked the abbe." "How was that?" "As I went away a purse fell at my feet--it contained five and twenty louis. my friend. But now her position in life is assured. it is yours. Edmond had one friend only. I am sure. he never was a friend of mine." "Do you not know what became of him. no doubt he is as rich as Danglars. it is worth fifty thousand francs. "Yet. do not make a jest of the happiness or despair of a man. but in exchange--" . "ah. I only. when I found myself utterly destitute. for me only?" cried Caderousse.--"Here. and the share he had in Edmond's misfortunes?" "No. but there always comes a moment when he remembers--and behold--a proof!" As he spoke. as high in station as Fernand. who sent me a hundred francs by his valet-de-chambre." said Caderousse." "I know what happiness and what despair are. take this diamond. "God may seem sometimes to forget for a time. sir. a countess. de Villefort?" asked the abbe. and thus it cannot be divided. and with the other wiping away the perspiration which bedewed his brow.--"Oh." continued Caderousse. sir. said. and sell it. and giving it to Caderousse." "Then you did not see either of them?" "No.

When Caderousse turned around." "In what way?" "Why. went toward a large oaken cupboard. "What? That he has given the diamond to us only?" inquired Caderousse." The abbe rose. The abbe smiled. and I shall be back in two hours. paler and trembling more than ever. "Suppose it's false?" Caderousse started and turned pale. The abbe took it. and I will swear upon it with my hand on the crucifix. "we will soon find out. The Prison Register. then. sir. and then said. the fair is on at Beaucaire. "in this corner is a crucifix in holy wood--here on this shelf is my wife's testament. I will swear to you by my soul's salvation. nothing more true! See. "yes. and then returned by the road he had travelled in coming. I have told everything to you as it occurred. all that I have heard really true?" she inquired. "Fifty thousand francs!" muttered La Carconte when left alone. who kept uttering his loud farewells. "Well." cried Caderousse. opened it. Morrel left on old Dantes' chimney-piece. there are always jewellers from Paris there. wife. "it is a large sum of money. "you would have done." Caderousse. round which were two copper runners that had once been gilt. but it is not a fortune. Look after the house.Caderousse. "In exchange. dressed in a bright blue frock coat. open this book. a man of about thirty or two and thirty. and I will show it to them. taking up his hat. I go far from men who thus so bitterly injure each other. you are a man of God." "See. "for no one knew that Edmond had given you this diamond." The woman gazed at it a moment." replied Caderousse. then. here it is. got out and mounted his horse. once more saluted the innkeeper." The abbe with difficulty got away from the enthusiastic thanks of Caderousse. nankeen . in a gloomy voice. who touched the diamond." Chapter 28." and Caderousse left the house in haste." said the abbe to himself. withdrew his hand. "all you have told me is perfectly true. you blockhead!" Caderousse remained for a moment aghast under the weight of such an idea. The day after that in which the scene we have just described had taken place on the road between Bellegarde and Beaucaire. "Oh. he saw behind him La Carconte. convinced by his manner and tone that Caderousse spoke the truth." he said." "Which. my faith as a Christian. opened the door himself. more and more astonished." said the abbe. "False! Why should that man give me a false diamond?" "To get your secret without paying for it. and may this money profit you! Adieu. and in return gave Caderousse the diamond. and gave the abbe a long purse of faded red silk. half bewildered with joy. "'Tis well. and as the recording angel will tell it to the ear of God at the day of the last judgment!" "'Tis well. "Oh!" he said. sir. which he placed on the red handkerchief tied round his head. "give me the red silk purse that M. and which you tell me is still in your hands. "Is. and ran rapidly in the direction opposite to that which the priest had taken. "False!" he muttered. and you might have kept it. took his hat and gloves." he continued. and I may believe it in every particular.

trousers, and a white waistcoat, having the appearance and accent of an Englishman, presented himself before the mayor of Marseilles. "Sir," said he, "I am chief clerk of the house of Thomson & French, of Rome. We are, and have been these ten years, connected with the house of Morrel & Son, of Marseilles. We have a hundred thousand francs or thereabouts loaned on their securities, and we are a little uneasy at reports that have reached us that the firm is on the brink of ruin. I have come, therefore, express from Rome, to ask you for information." "Sir," replied the mayor. "I know very well that during the last four or five years misfortune has seemed to pursue M. Morrel. He has lost four or five vessels, and suffered by three or four bankruptcies; but it is not for me, although I am a creditor myself to the amount of ten thousand francs, to give any information as to the state of his finances. Ask of me, as mayor, what is my opinion of M. Morrel, and I shall say that he is a man honorable to the last degree, and who has up to this time fulfilled every engagement with scrupulous punctuality. This is all I can say, sir; if you wish to learn more, address yourself to M. de Boville, the inspector of prisons, No. 15, Rue de Nouailles; he has, I believe, two hundred thousand francs in Morrel's hands, and if there be any grounds for apprehension, as this is a greater amount than mine, you will most probably find him better informed than myself." The Englishman seemed to appreciate this extreme delicacy, made his bow and went away, proceeding with a characteristic British stride towards the street mentioned. M. de Boville was in his private room, and the Englishman, on perceiving him, made a gesture of surprise, which seemed to indicate that it was not the first time he had been in his presence. As to M. de Boville, he was in such a state of despair, that it was evident all the faculties of his mind, absorbed in the thought which occupied him at the moment, did not allow either his memory or his imagination to stray to the past. The Englishman, with the coolness of his nation, addressed him in terms nearly similar to those with which he had accosted the mayor of Marseilles. "Oh, sir," exclaimed M. de Boville, "your fears are unfortunately but too well founded, and you see before you a man in despair. I had two hundred thousand francs placed in the hands of Morrel & Son; these two hundred thousand francs were the dowry of my daughter, who was to be married in a fortnight, and these two hundred thousand francs were payable, half on the 15th of this month, and the other half on the 15th of next month. I had informed M. Morrel of my desire to have these payments punctually, and he has been here within the last half-hour to tell me that if his ship, the Pharaon, did not come into port on the 15th, he would be wholly unable to make this payment." "But," said the Englishman, "this looks very much like a suspension of payment." "It looks more like bankruptcy!" exclaimed M. de Boville despairingly. The Englishman appeared to reflect a moment, and then said,--"From which it would appear, sir, that this credit inspires you with considerable apprehension?" "To tell you the truth, I consider it lost." "Well, then, I will buy it of you!" "You?"

"Yes, I!" "But at a tremendous discount, of course?" "No, for two hundred thousand francs. Our house," added the Englishman with a laugh, "does not do things in that way." "And you will pay"-"Ready money." And the Englishman drew from his pocket a bundle of bank-notes, which might have been twice the sum M. de Boville feared to lose. A ray of joy passed across M. de Boville's countenance, yet he made an effort at self-control, and said,--"Sir, I ought to tell you that, in all probability, you will not realize six per cent of this sum." "That's no affair of mine," replied the Englishman, "that is the affair of the house of Thomson & French, in whose name I act. They have, perhaps, some motive to serve in hastening the ruin of a rival firm. But all I know, sir, is, that I am ready to hand you over this sum in exchange for your assignment of the debt. I only ask a brokerage." "Of course, that is perfectly just," cried M. de Boville. "The commission is usually one and a half; will you have two--three--five per cent, or even more? Whatever you say." "Sir," replied the Englishman, laughing, "I am like my house, and do not do such things--no, the commission I ask is quite different." "Name it, sir, I beg." "You are the inspector of prisons?" "I have been so these fourteen years." "You keep the registers of entries and departures?" "I do." "To these registers there are added notes relative to the prisoners?" "There are special reports on every prisoner." "Well, sir, I was educated at home by a poor devil of an abbe, who disappeared suddenly. I have since learned that he was confined in the Chateau d'If, and I should like to learn some particulars of his death." "What was his name?" "The Abbe Faria." "Oh, I recollect him perfectly," cried M. de Boville; "he was crazy." "So they said." "Oh, he was, decidedly." "Very possibly; but what sort of madness was it?" "He pretended to know of an immense treasure, and offered vast sums to

the government if they would liberate him." "Poor devil!--and he is dead?" "Yes, sir, five or six months ago--last February." "You have a good memory, sir, to recollect dates so well." "I recollect this, because the poor devil's death was accompanied by a singular incident." "May I ask what that was?" said the Englishman with an expression of curiosity, which a close observer would have been astonished at discovering in his phlegmatic countenance. "Oh dear, yes, sir; the abbe's dungeon was forty or fifty feet distant from that of one of Bonaparte's emissaries,--one of those who had contributed the most to the return of the usurper in 1815,--a very resolute and very dangerous man." "Indeed!" said the Englishman. "Yes," replied M. de Boville; "I myself had occasion to see this man in 1816 or 1817, and we could only go into his dungeon with a file of soldiers. That man made a deep impression on me; I shall never forget his countenance!" The Englishman smiled imperceptibly. "And you say, sir," he interposed, "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, sir, that this Edmond Dantes had procured tools, or made them, for they found a tunnel through which the prisoners held communication with one another." "This tunnel was dug, no doubt, with an intention of escape?" "No doubt; but unfortunately for the prisoners, the Abbe Faria had an attack of catalepsy, and died." "That must have cut short the projects of escape." "For the dead man, yes," replied M. de Boville, "but not for the survivor; on the contrary, this Dantes saw a means of accelerating his escape. He, no doubt, thought that prisoners who died in the Chateau d'If were interred in an ordinary burial-ground, and he conveyed the dead man into his own cell, took his place in the sack in which they had sewed up the corpse, and awaited the moment of interment." "It was a bold step, and one that showed some courage," remarked the Englishman. "As I have already told you, sir, he was a very dangerous man; and, fortunately, by his own act disembarrassed the government of the fears it had on his account." "How was that?"

"How? Do you not comprehend?" "No." "The Chateau d'If has no cemetery, and they simply throw the dead into the sea, after fastening a thirty-six pound cannon-ball to their feet." "Well," observed the Englishman as if he were slow of comprehension. "Well, they fastened a thirty-six pound ball to his feet, and threw him into the sea." "Really!" exclaimed the Englishman. "Yes, sir," continued the inspector of prisons. "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." "That would have been difficult." "No matter," replied De Boville, in supreme good-humor at the certainty of recovering his two hundred thousand francs,--"no matter, I can fancy it." And he shouted with laughter. "So can I," said the Englishman, and he laughed too; but he laughed as the English do, "at the end of his teeth." "And so," continued the Englishman who first gained his composure, "he was drowned?" "Unquestionably." "So that the governor got rid of the dangerous and the crazy prisoner at the same time?" "Precisely." "But some official document was drawn up as to this affair, I suppose?" inquired the Englishman. "Yes, yes, the mortuary deposition. You understand, Dantes' relations, if he had any, might have some interest in knowing if he were dead or alive." "So that now, if there were anything to inherit from him, they may do so with easy conscience. He is dead, and no mistake about it." "Oh, yes; and they may have the fact attested whenever they please." "So be it," said the Englishman. "But to return to these registers." "True, this story has diverted our attention from them. Excuse me." "Excuse you for what? For the story? By no means; it really seems to me very curious." "Yes, indeed. So, sir, you wish to see all relating to the poor abbe, who really was gentleness itself."

"Yes, you will much oblige me." "Go into my study here, and I will show it to you." And they both entered M. de Boville's study. Everything was here arranged in perfect order; each register had its number, each file of papers its place. The inspector begged the Englishman to seat himself in an arm-chair, and placed before him the register and documents relative to the Chateau d'If, giving him all the time he desired for the examination, while De Boville seated himself in a corner, and began to read his newspaper. The Englishman easily found the entries relative to the Abbe Faria; but it seemed that the history which the inspector had related interested him greatly, for after having perused the first documents he turned over the leaves until he reached the deposition respecting Edmond Dantes. There he found everything arranged in due order,--the accusation, examination, Morrel's petition, M. de Villefort's marginal notes. He folded up the accusation quietly, and put it as quietly in his pocket; read the examination, and saw that the name of Noirtier was not mentioned in it; perused, too, the application dated 10th April, 1815, in which Morrel, by the deputy procureur's advice, 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. Then he saw through the whole thing. This petition to Napoleon, kept back by Villefort, had become, under the second restoration, a terrible weapon against him in the hands of the king's attorney. He was no longer astonished when he searched on to find in the register this note, placed in a bracket against his name:-Edmond Dantes. An inveterate Bonapartist; took an active part in the return from the Island of Elba. To be kept in strict solitary confinement, and to be closely watched and guarded. Beneath these lines was written in another hand: "See note above--nothing can be done." He compared the writing in the bracket with the writing of the certificate placed beneath Morrel's petition, and discovered that the note in the bracket was the same writing as the certificate--that is to say, was in Villefort's handwriting. As to the note which accompanied this, the Englishman understood that it might have been added by some inspector who had taken a momentary interest in Dantes' situation, but who had, from the remarks we have quoted, found it impossible to give any effect to the interest he had felt. As we have said, the inspector, from discretion, and that he might not disturb the Abbe Faria's pupil in his researches, had seated himself in a corner, and was reading Le Drapeau Blanc. He did not see the Englishman fold up and place in his pocket the accusation written by Danglars under the arbor of La Reserve, and which had the postmark, "Marseilles, 27th Feb., delivery 6 o'clock, P.M." But it must be said that if he had seen it, he attached so little importance to this scrap of paper, and so much importance to his two hundred thousand francs, that he would not have opposed whatever the Englishman might do, however irregular it might be. "Thanks," said the latter, closing the register with a slam, "I have all I want; now it is for me to perform my promise. Give me a simple assignment of your debt; acknowledge therein the receipt of the cash, and I will hand you over the money." He rose, gave his seat to M. de

Boville, who took it without ceremony, and quickly drew up the required assignment, while the Englishman counted out the bank-notes on the other side of the desk.

Chapter 29. The House of Morrel & Son. Any one who had quitted Marseilles a few years previously, well acquainted with the interior of Morrel's warehouse, and had returned at this date, would have found a great change. Instead of that air of life, of comfort, and of happiness that permeates a flourishing and prosperous business establishment--instead of merry faces at the windows, busy clerks hurrying to and fro in the long corridors--instead of the court filled with bales of goods, re-echoing with the cries and the jokes of porters, one would have immediately perceived all aspect of sadness and gloom. Out of all the numerous clerks that used to fill the deserted corridor and the empty office, but two remained. One was a young man of three or four and twenty, who was in love with M. Morrel's daughter, and had remained with him in spite of the efforts of his friends to induce him to withdraw; the other was an old one-eyed cashier, called "Cocles," or "Cock-eye," a nickname given him by the young men who used to throng this vast now almost deserted bee-hive, and which had so completely replaced his real name that he would not, in all probability, have replied to any one who addressed him by it. Cocles remained in M. Morrel's service, and a most singular change had taken place in his position; he had at the same time risen to the rank of cashier, and sunk to the rank of a servant. He was, however, the same Cocles, good, patient, devoted, but inflexible on the subject of arithmetic, the only point on which he would have stood firm against the world, even against M. Morrel; and strong in the multiplication-table, which he had at his fingers' ends, no matter what scheme or what trap was laid to catch him. In the midst of the disasters that befell the house, Cocles was the only one unmoved. But this did not arise from a want of affection; on the contrary, from a firm conviction. Like the rats that one by one forsake the doomed ship even before the vessel weighs anchor, so all the numerous clerks had by degrees deserted the office and the warehouse. Cocles had seen them go without thinking of inquiring the cause of their departure. Everything was as we have said, a question of arithmetic to Cocles, and during twenty years he had always seen all payments made with such exactitude, that it seemed as impossible to him that the house should stop payment, as it would to a miller that the river that had so long turned his mill should cease to flow. Nothing had as yet occurred to shake Cocles' belief; the last month's payment had been made with the most scrupulous exactitude; Cocles had detected an overbalance of fourteen sous in his cash, and the same evening he had brought them to M. Morrel, who, with a melancholy smile, threw them into an almost empty drawer, saying:-"Thanks, Cocles; you are the pearl of cashiers." Cocles went away perfectly happy, for this eulogium of M. Morrel, himself the pearl of the honest men of Marseilles, flattered him more than a present of fifty crowns. But since the end of the month M. Morrel had passed many an anxious hour. In order to meet the payments then due; he had collected all his resources, and, fearing lest the report of his distress should get bruited abroad at Marseilles when he was known to be

reduced to such an extremity, he went to the Beaucaire fair to sell his wife's and daughter's jewels and a portion of his plate. By this means the end of the month was passed, but his resources were now exhausted. Credit, owing to the reports afloat, was no longer to be had; and to meet the one hundred thousand francs due on the 10th of the present month, and the one hundred thousand francs due on the 15th of the next month to M. de Boville, M. Morrel had, in reality, no hope but the return of the Pharaon, of whose departure he had learnt from a vessel which had weighed anchor at the same time, and which had already arrived in harbor. But this vessel which, like the Pharaon, came from Calcutta, had been in for a fortnight, while no intelligence had been received of the Pharaon. Such was the state of affairs when, the day after his interview with M. de Boville, the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French of Rome, presented himself at M. Morrel's. Emmanuel received him; this young man was alarmed by the appearance of every new face, for every new face might be that of a new creditor, come in anxiety to question the head of the house. The young man, wishing to spare his employer the pain of this interview, questioned the new-comer; but the stranger declared that he had nothing to say to M. Emmanuel, and that his business was with M. Morrel in person. Emmanuel sighed, and summoned Cocles. Cocles appeared, and the young man bade him conduct the stranger to M. Morrel's apartment. Cocles went first, and the stranger followed him. On the staircase they met a beautiful girl of sixteen or seventeen, who looked with anxiety at the stranger. "M. Morrel is in his room, is he not, Mademoiselle Julie?" said the cashier. "Yes; I think so, at least," said the young girl hesitatingly. "Go and see, Cocles, and if my father is there, announce this gentleman." "It will be useless to announce me, mademoiselle," returned the Englishman. "M. Morrel does not know my name; this worthy gentleman has only to announce the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French of Rome, with whom your father does business." The young girl turned pale and continued to descend, while the stranger and Cocles continued to mount the staircase. She entered the office where Emmanuel was, while Cocles, by the aid of a key he possessed, opened a door in the corner of a landing-place on the second staircase, conducted the stranger into an ante-chamber, opened a second door, which he closed behind him, and after having left the clerk of the house of Thomson & French alone, returned and signed to him that he could enter. The Englishman entered, and found Morrel seated at a table, turning over the formidable columns of his ledger, which contained the list of his liabilities. At the sight of the stranger, M. Morrel closed the ledger, arose, and offered a seat to the stranger; and when he had seen him seated, resumed his own chair. Fourteen years had changed the worthy merchant, who, in his thirty-sixth year at the opening of this history, was now in his fiftieth; his hair had turned white, time and sorrow had ploughed deep furrows on his brow, and his look, once so firm and penetrating, was now irresolute and wandering, as if he feared being forced to fix his attention on some particular thought or person. The Englishman looked at him with an air of curiosity, evidently mingled with interest. "Monsieur," said Morrel, whose uneasiness was increased by this examination, "you wish to speak to me?" "Yes, monsieur; you are aware from whom I come?"

"The house of Thomson & French; at least, so my cashier tells me." "He has told you rightly. The house of Thomson & French had 300,000 or 400,000 francs to pay this month in France; and, knowing your strict punctuality, have collected all the bills bearing your signature, and charged me as they became due to present them, and to employ the money otherwise." Morrel sighed deeply, and passed his hand over his forehead, which was covered with perspiration. "So then, sir," said Morrel, "you hold bills of mine?" "Yes, and for a considerable sum." "What is the amount?" asked Morrel with a voice he strove to render firm. "Here is," said the Englishman, taking a quantity of papers from his pocket, "an assignment of 200,000 francs to our house by M. de Boville, the inspector of prisons, to whom they are due. You acknowledge, of course, that you owe this sum to him?" "Yes; he placed the money in my hands at four and a half per cent nearly five years ago." "When are you to pay?" "Half the 15th of this month, half the 15th of next." "Just so; and now here are 32,500 francs payable shortly; they are all signed by you, and assigned to our house by the holders." "I recognize them," said Morrel, whose face was suffused, as he thought that, for the first time in his life, he would be unable to honor his own signature. "Is this all?" "No, I have for the end of the month these bills which have been assigned to us by the house of Pascal, and the house of Wild & Turner of Marseilles, amounting to nearly 55,000. francs; in all, 287,500 francs." It is impossible to describe what Morrel suffered during this enumeration. "Two hundred and eighty-seven thousand five hundred francs," repeated he. "Yes, sir," replied the Englishman. "I will not," continued he, after a moment's silence, "conceal from you, that while your probity and exactitude up to this moment are universally acknowledged, yet the report is current in Marseilles that you are not able to meet your liabilities." At this almost brutal speech Morrel turned deathly pale. "Sir," said he, "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, who had himself conducted it for five and thirty years--never has anything bearing the signature of Morrel & Son been dishonored." "I know that," replied the Englishman. "But as a man of honor should answer another, tell me fairly, shall you pay these with the same punctuality?" Morrel shuddered, and looked at the man, who spoke with more assurance than he had hitherto shown. "To questions frankly put," said he, "a straightforward answer should be given. Yes, I shall pay, if, as I hope, my vessel arrives safely; for its arrival will again procure me the credit which the numerous accidents, of which I have been

the victim, have deprived me; but if the Pharaon should be lost, and this last resource be gone"--the poor man's eyes filled with tears. "Well," said the other, "if this last resource fail you?" "Well," returned Morrel, "it is a cruel thing to be forced to say, but, already used to misfortune, I must habituate myself to shame. I fear I shall be forced to suspend payment." "Have you no friends who could assist you?" Morrel smiled mournfully. "In business, sir," said he, "one has no friends, only correspondents." "It is true," murmured the Englishman; "then you have but one hope." "But one." "The last?" "The last." "So that if this fail"-"I am ruined,--completely ruined!" "As I was on my way here, a vessel was coming into port." "I know it, sir; a young man, who still adheres to my fallen fortunes, passes a part of his time in a belvidere at the top of the house, in hopes of being the first to announce good news to me; he has informed me of the arrival of this ship." "And it is not yours?" "No, she is a Bordeaux vessel, La Gironde; she comes from India also; but she is not mine." "Perhaps she has spoken to the Pharaon, and brings you some tidings of her?" "Shall I tell you plainly receive any tidings of my is still hope." Then in a natural. The Pharaon left been here a month ago." one thing, sir? I dread almost as much to vessel as to remain in doubt. Uncertainty low voice Morrel added,--"This delay is not Calcutta the 5th February; she ought to have

"What is that?" said the Englishman. "What is the meaning of that noise?" "Oh, oh!" cried Morrel, turning pale, "what is it?" A loud noise was heard on the stairs of people moving hastily, and half-stifled sobs. Morrel rose and advanced to the door; but his strength failed him and he sank into a chair. The two men remained opposite one another, Morrel trembling in every limb, the stranger gazing at him with an air of profound pity. The noise had ceased; but it seemed that Morrel expected something--something had occasioned the noise, and something must follow. The stranger fancied he heard footsteps on the stairs; and that the footsteps, which were those of several persons, stopped at the door. A key was inserted in the lock of the first door, and the creaking of hinges was audible.

"There are only two persons who have the key to that door," murmured Morrel, "Cocles and Julie." At this instant the second door opened, and the young girl, her eyes bathed with tears, appeared. Morrel rose tremblingly, supporting himself by the arm of the chair. He would have spoken, but his voice failed him. "Oh, father!" said she, clasping her hands, "forgive your child for being the bearer of evil tidings." Morrel again changed color. Julie threw herself into his arms. "Oh, father, father!" murmured she, "courage!" "The Pharaon has gone down, then?" said Morrel in a hoarse voice. The young girl did not speak; but she made an affirmative sign with her head as she lay on her father's breast. "And the crew?" asked Morrel. "Saved," said the girl; "saved by the crew of the vessel that has just entered the harbor." Morrel raised his two hands to heaven with an expression of resignation and sublime gratitude. "Thanks, my God," said he, "at least thou strikest but me alone." A tear moistened the eye of the phlegmatic Englishman. "Come in, come in," said Morrel, "for I presume you are all at the door." Scarcely had he uttered those words than Madame Morrel entered weeping bitterly. Emmanuel followed her, and in the antechamber were visible the rough faces of seven or eight half-naked sailors. At the sight of these men the Englishman started and advanced a step; then restrained himself, and retired into the farthest and most obscure corner of the apartment. Madame Morrel sat down by her husband and took one of his hands in hers, Julie still lay with her head on his shoulder, Emmanuel stood in the centre of the chamber and seemed to form the link between Morrel's family and the sailors at the door. "How did this happen?" said Morrel. "Draw nearer, Penelon," said the young man, "and tell us all about it." An old seaman, bronzed by the tropical sun, advanced, twirling the remains of a tarpaulin between his hands. "Good-day, M. Morrel," said he, as if he had just quitted Marseilles the previous evening, and had just returned from Aix or Toulon. "Good-day, Penelon," returned Morrel, who could not refrain from smiling through his tears, "where is the captain?" "The captain, M. Morrel,--he has stayed behind sick at Palma; but please God, it won't be much, and you will see him in a few days all alive and hearty." "Well, now tell your story, Penelon." Penelon rolled his quid in his cheek, placed his hand before his mouth, turned his head, and sent a long jet of tobacco-juice into the antechamber, advanced his foot, balanced himself, and began,--"You see, M. Morrel," said he, "we were somewhere between Cape Blanc and Cape Boyador, sailing with a fair breeze, south-south-west after a week's calm, when Captain Gaumard comes up to me--I was at the helm I should

tell you--and says, 'Penelon, what do you think of those clouds coming up over there?' I was just then looking at them myself. 'What do I think, captain? Why I think that they are rising faster than they have any business to do, and that they would not be so black if they didn't mean mischief.'--'That's my opinion too,' said the captain, 'and I'll take precautions accordingly. We are carrying too much canvas. Avast, there, all hands! Take in the studding-sl's and stow the flying jib.' It was time; the squall was on us, and the vessel began to heel. 'Ah,' said the captain, 'we have still too much canvas set; all hands lower the mains'l!' Five minutes after, it was down; and we sailed under mizzen-tops'ls and to'gall'nt sails. 'Well, Penelon,' said the captain, 'what makes you shake your head?' 'Why,' I says, 'I still think you've got too much on.' 'I think you're right,' answered he, 'we shall have a gale.' 'A gale? More than that, we shall have a tempest, or I don't know what's what.' You could see the wind coming like the dust at Montredon; luckily the captain understood his business. 'Take in two reefs in the tops'ls,' cried the captain; 'let go the bowlin's, haul the brace, lower the to'gall'nt sails, haul out the reef-tackles on the yards.'" "That was not enough for those latitudes," said the Englishman; "I should have taken four reefs in the topsails and furled the spanker." His firm, sonorous, and unexpected voice made every one start. Penelon put his hand over his eyes, and then stared at the man who thus criticized the manoeuvres of his captain. "We did better than that, sir," said the old sailor respectfully; "we put the helm up to run before the tempest; ten minutes after we struck our tops'ls and scudded under bare poles." "The vessel was very old to risk that," said the Englishman. "Eh, it was that that did the business; after pitching heavily for twelve hours we sprung a leak. 'Penelon,' said the captain, 'I think we are sinking, give me the helm, and go down into the hold.' I gave him the helm, and descended; there was already three feet of water. 'All hands to the pumps!' I shouted; but it was too late, and it seemed the more we pumped the more came in. 'Ah,' said I, after four hours' work, 'since we are sinking, let us sink; we can die but once.' 'That's the example you set, Penelon,' cries the captain; 'very well, wait a minute.' He went into his cabin and came back with a brace of pistols. 'I will blow the brains out of the first man who leaves the pump,' said he." "Well done!" said the Englishman. "There's nothing gives you so much courage as good reasons," continued the sailor; "and during that time the wind had abated, and the sea gone down, but the water kept rising; not much, only two inches an hour, but still it rose. Two inches an hour does not seem much, but in twelve hours that makes two feet, and three we had before, that makes five. 'Come,' said the captain, 'we have done all in our power, and M. Morrel will have nothing to reproach us with, we have tried to save the ship, let us now save ourselves. To the boats, my lads, as quick as you can.' Now," continued Penelon, "you see, M. Morrel, a sailor is attached to his ship, but still more to his life, so we did not wait to be told twice; the more so, that the ship was sinking under us, and seemed to say, 'Get along--save yourselves.' We soon launched the boat, and all eight of us got into it. The captain descended last, or rather, he did not descend, he would not quit the vessel; so I took him round the waist, and threw him into the boat, and then I jumped after him. It

was time, for just as I jumped the deck burst with a noise like the broadside of a man-of-war. Ten minutes after she pitched forward, then the other way, spun round and round, and then good-by to the Pharaon. As for us, we were three days without anything to eat or drink, so that we began to think of drawing lots who should feed the rest, when we saw La Gironde; we made signals of distress, she perceived us, made for us, and took us all on board. There now, M. Morrel, that's the whole truth, on the honor of a sailor; is not it true, you fellows there?" A general murmur of approbation showed that the narrator had faithfully detailed their misfortunes and sufferings. "Well, well," said M. Morrel, "I know there was no one in fault but destiny. It was the will of God that this should happen, blessed be his name. What wages are due to you?" "Oh, don't let us talk of that, M. Morrel." "Yes, but we will talk of it." "Well, then, three months," said Penelon. "Cocles, pay two hundred francs to each of these good fellows," said Morrel. "At another time," added he, "I should have said, Give them, besides, two hundred francs over as a present; but times are changed, and the little money that remains to me is not my own." Penelon turned to his companions, and exchanged a few words with them. "As for that, M. Morrel," said he, again turning his quid, "as for that"-"As for what?" "The money." "Well"-"Well, we all say that fifty francs will be enough for us at present, and that we will wait for the rest." "Thanks, my friends, thanks!" cried Morrel gratefully; "take it--take it; and if you can find another employer, enter his service; you are free to do so." These last words produced a prodigious effect on the seaman. Penelon nearly swallowed his quid; fortunately he recovered. "What, M. Morrel!" said he in a low voice, "you send us away; you are then angry with us!" "No, no," said M. Morrel, "I am not angry, quite the contrary, and I do not send you away; but I have no more ships, and therefore I do not want any sailors." "No more ships!" returned Penelon; "well, then, you'll build some; we'll wait for you." "I have no money to build ships with, Penelon," said the poor owner mournfully, "so I cannot accept your kind offer." "No more money? Then you must not pay us; we can scud, like the Pharaon, under bare poles."

"Enough, enough!" cried Morrel, almost overpowered; "leave me, I pray you; we shall meet again in a happier time. Emmanuel, go with them, and see that my orders are executed." "At least, we shall see each other again, M. Morrel?" asked Penelon. "Yes; I hope so, at least. Now go." He made a sign to Cocles, who went first; the seamen followed him and Emmanuel brought up the rear. "Now," said the owner to his wife and daughter, "leave me; I wish to speak with this gentleman." And he glanced towards the clerk of Thomson & French, who had remained motionless in the corner during this scene, in which he had taken no part, except the few words we have mentioned. The two women looked at this person whose presence they had entirely forgotten, and retired; but, as she left the apartment, Julie gave the stranger a supplicating glance, to which he replied by a smile that an indifferent spectator would have been surprised to see on his stern features. The two men were left alone. "Well, sir," said Morrel, sinking into a chair, "you have heard all, and I have nothing further to tell you." "I see," returned the Englishman, "that a fresh and unmerited misfortune his overwhelmed you, and this only increases my desire to serve you." "Oh, sir!" cried Morrel. "Let me see," continued the stranger, "I am one of your largest creditors." "Your bills, at least, are the first that will fall due." "Do you wish for time to pay?" "A delay would save my honor, and consequently my life." "How long a delay do you wish for?"--Morrel reflected. "Two months," said he. "I will give you three," replied the stranger. "But," asked Morrel, "will the house of Thomson & French consent?" "Oh, I take everything on myself. To-day is the 5th of June." "Yes." "Well, renew these bills up to the 5th of September; and on the 5th of September at eleven o'clock (the hand of the clock pointed to eleven), I shall come to receive the money." "I shall expect you," returned Morrel; "and I will pay you--or I shall be dead." These last words were uttered in so low a tone that the stranger could not hear them. The bills were renewed, the old ones destroyed, and the poor ship-owner found himself with three months before him to collect his resources. The Englishman received his thanks with the phlegm peculiar to his nation; and Morrel, overwhelming him with grateful blessings, conducted him to the staircase. The stranger met Julie on the stairs; she pretended to be descending, but in reality she was waiting for him. "Oh, sir"--said she, clasping her hands. "Mademoiselle," said the stranger, "one day you will receive a letter signed 'Sinbad the Sailor.' Do exactly what the letter bids you, however

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

Chapter 30. The Fifth of September. The extension provided for by the agent of Thomson & French, at the moment when Morrel expected it least, 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. The same day he told his wife, Emmanuel, and his daughter all that had occurred; and a ray of hope, if not of tranquillity, returned to the family. Unfortunately, however, Morrel had not only engagements with the house of Thomson & French, who had shown themselves so considerate towards him; and, as he had said, in business he had correspondents, and not friends. When he thought the matter over, he could by no means account for this generous conduct on the part of Thomson & French towards him; and could only attribute it to some such selfish argument as this:--"We had better help a man who owes us nearly 300,000 francs, and have those 300,000 francs at the end of three months than hasten his ruin, and get only six or eight per cent of our money back again." Unfortunately, whether through envy or stupidity, all Morrel's correspondents did not take this view; and some even came to a contrary decision. The bills signed by Morrel were presented at his office with scrupulous exactitude, and, thanks to the delay granted by the Englishman, were paid by Cocles with equal punctuality. Cocles thus remained in his accustomed tranquillity. It was Morrel alone who remembered with alarm, that if he had to repay on the 15th the 50,000 francs of M. de Boville, and on the 30th the 32,500 francs of bills, for which, as well as the debt due to the inspector of prisons, he had time granted, he must be a ruined man. The opinion of all the commercial men was that, under the reverses which had successively weighed down Morrel, it was impossible for him to remain solvent. Great, therefore, was the astonishment when at the end of the month, he cancelled all his obligations with his usual punctuality. Still confidence was not restored to all minds, and the general opinion was that the complete ruin of the unfortunate shipowner had been postponed only until the end of the month. The month passed, and Morrel made extraordinary efforts to get in all his resources. Formerly his paper, at any date, was taken with confidence, and was even in request. Morrel now tried to negotiate bills at ninety days only, and none of the banks would give him credit. Fortunately, Morrel had some funds coming in on which he could rely; and, as they reached him, he

found himself in a condition to meet his engagements when the end of July came. The agent of Thomson & French had not been again seen at Marseilles; the day after, or two days after his visit to Morrel, he had disappeared; and as in that city he had had no intercourse but with the mayor, the inspector of prisons, and M. Morrel, his departure left no trace except in the memories of these three persons. As to the sailors of the Pharaon, they must have found snug berths elsewhere, for they also had disappeared. Captain Gaumard, recovered from his illness, had returned from Palma. He delayed presenting himself at Morrel's, but the owner, hearing of his arrival, went to see him. The worthy shipowner knew, from Penelon's recital, of the captain's brave conduct during the storm, and tried to console him. He brought him also the amount of his wages, which Captain Gaumard had not dared to apply for. As he descended the staircase, Morrel met Penelon, who was going up. Penelon had, it would seem, made good use of his money, for he was newly clad. When he saw his employer, the worthy tar seemed much embarrassed, drew on one side into the corner of the landing-place, passed his quid from one cheek to the other, stared stupidly with his great eyes, and only acknowledged the squeeze of the hand which Morrel as usual gave him by a slight pressure in return. Morrel attributed Penelon's embarrassment to the elegance of his attire; it was evident the good fellow had not gone to such an expense on his own account; he was, no doubt, engaged on board some other vessel, and thus his bashfulness arose from the fact of his not having, if we may so express ourselves, worn mourning for the Pharaon longer. Perhaps he had come to tell Captain Gaumard of his good luck, and to offer him employment from his new master. "Worthy fellows!" said Morrel, as he went away, "may your new master love you as I loved you, and be more fortunate than I have been!" August rolled by in unceasing efforts on the part of Morrel to renew his credit or revive the old. On the 20th of August it was known at Marseilles that he had left town in the mailcoach, and then it was said that the bills would go to protest at the end of the month, and that Morrel had gone away and left his chief clerk Emmanuel, and his cashier Cocles, to meet the creditors. But, contrary to all expectation, when the 31st of August came, the house opened as usual, and Cocles appeared behind the grating of the counter, examined all bills presented with the usual scrutiny, and, from first to last, paid all with the usual precision. There came in, moreover, two drafts which M. Morrel had fully anticipated, and which Cocles paid as punctually as the bills which the shipowner had accepted. All this was incomprehensible, and then, with the tenacity peculiar to prophets of bad news, the failure was put off until the end of September. On the 1st, Morrel returned; he was awaited by his family with extreme anxiety, for from this journey to Paris they hoped great things. Morrel had thought of Danglars, who was now immensely rich, and had lain under great obligations to Morrel in former days, since to him it was owing that Danglars entered the service of the Spanish banker, with whom he had laid the foundations of his vast wealth. It was said at this moment that Danglars was worth from six to eight millions of francs, and had unlimited credit. Danglars, then, without taking a crown from his pocket, could save Morrel; he had but to pass his word for a loan, and Morrel was saved. Morrel had long thought of Danglars, but had kept away from some instinctive motive, and had delayed as long as possible availing himself of this last resource. And Morrel was right, for he returned home crushed by the humiliation of a refusal. Yet, on his arrival, Morrel did not utter a complaint, or say one harsh word. He embraced his weeping wife and daughter, pressed Emmanuel's hand with friendly warmth, and then going to his private room

on the second floor had sent for Cocles. "Then," said the two women to Emmanuel, "we are indeed ruined." It was agreed in a brief council held among them, that Julie should write to her brother, who was in garrison at Nimes, to come to them as speedily as possible. The poor women felt instinctively that they required all their strength to support the blow that impended. Besides, Maximilian Morrel, though hardly two and twenty, had great influence over his father. He was a strong-minded, upright young man. At the time when he decided on his profession his father had no desire to choose for him, but had consulted young Maximilian's taste. He had at once declared for a military life, and had in consequence studied hard, passed brilliantly through the Polytechnic School, and left it as sub-lieutenant of the 53d of the line. For a year he had held this rank, and expected promotion on the first vacancy. In his regiment Maximilian Morrel was noted for his rigid observance, not only of the obligations imposed on a soldier, but also of the duties of a man; and he thus gained the name of "the stoic." We need hardly say that many of those who gave him this epithet repeated it because they had heard it, and did not even know what it meant. 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. They had not mistaken the gravity of this event, for the moment after Morrel had entered his private office with Cocles, Julie saw the latter leave it pale, trembling, and his features betraying the utmost consternation. She would have questioned him as he passed by her, but the worthy creature hastened down the staircase with unusual precipitation, and only raised his hands to heaven and exclaimed, "Oh, mademoiselle, mademoiselle, 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, a portfolio, and a bag of money. Morrel examined the ledgers, opened the portfolio, and counted the money. All his funds amounted to 6,000, or 8,000. francs, his bills receivable up to the 5th to 4,000 or 5,000, which, making the best of everything, gave him 14,000. francs to meet debts amounting to 287,500 francs. He had not even the means for making a possible settlement on account. However, when Morrel went down to his dinner, he appeared very calm. This calmness was more alarming to the two women than the deepest dejection would have been. After dinner Morrel usually went out and used to take his coffee at the Phocaean club, and read the Semaphore; this day he did not leave the house, but returned to his office. As to Cocles, he seemed completely bewildered. For part of the day he went into the court-yard, seated himself on a stone with his head bare and exposed to the blazing sun. Emmanuel tried to comfort the women, but his eloquence faltered. The young man was too well acquainted with the business of the house, not to feel that a great catastrophe hung over the Morrel family. Night came, the two women had watched, hoping that when he left his room Morrel would come to them, but they heard him pass before their door, and trying to conceal the noise of his footsteps. They listened; he went into his sleeping-room, and fastened the door inside. Madame Morrel sent her daughter to bed, and half an hour after Julie had retired, she rose, took off her shoes, and went stealthily along the passage, to see through the keyhole what her husband was doing. In the passage she saw a retreating shadow; it was Julie, who, uneasy herself, had anticipated her mother. The young lady went towards Madame Morrel. "He is writing," she said. They had understood each other without

speaking. Madame Morrel looked again through the keyhole, Morrel was writing; but Madame Morrel remarked, what her daughter had not observed, that her husband was writing on stamped paper. The terrible idea that he was writing his will flashed across her; she shuddered, and yet had not strength to utter a word. Next day M. Morrel seemed as calm as ever, went into his office as usual, came to his breakfast punctually, and then, after dinner, he placed his daughter beside him, took her head in his arms, and held her for a long time against his bosom. In the evening, Julie told her mother, that although he was apparently so calm, she had noticed that her father's heart beat violently. The next two days passed in much the same way. On the evening of the 4th of September, M. Morrel asked his daughter for the key of his study. Julie trembled at this request, which seemed to her of bad omen. Why did her father ask for this key which she always kept, and which was only taken from her in childhood as a punishment? The young girl looked at Morrel. "What have I done wrong, father," she said, "that you should take this key from me?" "Nothing, my dear," replied the unhappy man, the tears starting to his eyes at this simple question,--"nothing, only I want it." Julie made a pretence to feel for the key. "I must have left it in my room," she said. And she went out, but instead of going to her apartment she hastened to consult Emmanuel. "Do not give this key to your father," said he, "and to-morrow morning, if possible, do not quit him for a moment." She questioned Emmanuel, but he knew nothing, or would not say what he knew. During the night, between the 4th and 5th of September, Madame Morrel remained listening for every sound, and, until three o'clock in the morning, she heard her husband pacing the room in great agitation. It was three o'clock when he threw himself on the bed. The mother and daughter passed the night together. They had expected Maximilian since the previous evening. At eight o'clock in the morning Morrel entered their chamber. He was calm; but the agitation of the night was legible in his pale and careworn visage. They did not dare to ask him how he had slept. Morrel was kinder to his wife, more affectionate to his daughter, than he had ever been. He could not cease gazing at and kissing the sweet girl. Julie, mindful of Emmanuel's request, was following her father when he quitted the room, but he said to her quickly,--"Remain with your mother, dearest." Julie wished to accompany him. "I wish you to do so," said he. This was the first time Morrel had ever so spoken, but he said it in a tone of paternal kindness, and Julie did not dare to disobey. She remained at the same spot standing mute and motionless. An instant afterwards the door opened, she felt two arms encircle her, and a mouth pressed her forehead. She looked up and uttered an exclamation of joy. "Maximilian, my dearest brother!" she cried. At these words Madame Morrel rose, and threw herself into her son's arms. "Mother," said the young man, looking alternately at Madame Morrel and her daughter, "what has occurred--what has happened? Your letter has frightened me, and I have come hither with all speed." "Julie," said Madame Morrel, making a sign to the young man, "go and tell your father that Maximilian has just arrived." The young lady rushed out of the apartment, but on the first step of the staircase she found a man holding a letter in his hand. "Are you not Mademoiselle Julie Morrel?" inquired the man, with a strong Italian accent.

"Yes, sir," replied Julie with hesitation; "what is your pleasure? I do not know you." "Read this letter," he said, handing it to her. Julie hesitated. "It concerns the best interests of your father," said the messenger. The young girl hastily took the letter from him. She opened it quickly and read:-"Go this moment to the Allees de Meillan, enter the house No. 15, ask the porter for the key of the room on the fifth floor, enter the apartment, take from the corner of the mantelpiece a purse netted in red silk, and give it to your father. It is important that he should receive it before eleven o'clock. You promised to obey me implicitly. Remember your oath. "Sinbad the Sailor." The young girl uttered a joyful cry, raised her eyes, looked round to question the messenger, but he had disappeared. She cast her eyes again over the note to peruse it a second time, and saw there was a postscript. She read:-"It is important that you should fulfil this mission in person and alone. If you go accompanied by any other person, or should any one else go in your place, the porter will reply that he does not know anything about it." This postscript decreased greatly the young girl's happiness. 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. But there is no need to know danger in order to fear it; indeed, it may be observed, that it is usually unknown perils that inspire the greatest terror. Julie hesitated, and resolved to take counsel. Yet, through a singular impulse, it was neither to her mother nor her brother that she applied, but to Emmanuel. She hastened down and told him what had occurred on the day when the agent of Thomson & French had come to her father's, related the scene on the staircase, repeated the promise she had made, and showed him the letter. "You must go, then, mademoiselle," said Emmanuel. "Go there?" murmured Julie. "Yes; I will accompany you." "But did you not read that I must be alone?" said Julie. "And you shall be alone," replied the young man. "I will await you at the corner of the Rue de Musee, and if you are so long absent as to make me uneasy, I will hasten to rejoin you, and woe to him of whom you shall have cause to complain to me!" "Then, Emmanuel?" said the young girl with hesitation, "it is your opinion that I should obey this invitation?" "Yes. Did not the messenger say your father's safety depended upon it?" "But what danger threatens him, then, Emmanuel?" she asked.

Instead of going direct to his study. "Father. "Listen. come!" cried she. Morrel had to pay. During this time. He was thunderstruck." "Well. but he rapped there in vain. and closed it behind his son. "Read!" said Morrel.257 francs. and pointed with his finger to an open ledger. this is what I feared!" said Morrel. Come. and I will explain to you. he will be compelled at twelve o'clock to declare himself a bankrupt. after the succession of misfortunes which had befallen his father. The young man was overwhelmed as he read." exclaimed the young man. "you are a man." continued Emmanuel. All he possessed was 15." "Oh. 287. M. father. and threw his arms round his father's neck." replied Morrel. pressing with his left hand something he had concealed under his coat. went to his desk on which he placed the pistols. While he was yet at the door of the study he heard the bedroom door open. Maximilian sprang down the staircase. we know that. then. is it not?" "Yes. expecting to find his father in his study. hastening away with the young man. Morrel uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of his son. within half an hour. trembling as he went. if to-day before eleven o'clock your father has not found someone who will come to his aid. and placed his right hand on Morrel's breast.500 francs. "what are these weapons for?" "Maximilian. "what are you going to do with that brace of pistols under your coat?" "Oh. Morrel said not a word. Morrel had returned to his bed-chamber. and a man of honor. "Father. then. turning pale as death. of whose arrival he was ignorant. The young man knew quite well that. in heaven's name. and saw his father. come. crossing the anteroom. great changes had taken place in the style of living and housekeeping. Morrel opened the door. Madame Morrel had told her son everything. which he was only this moment quitting." And with a firm step Morrel went up to his study. but he did not know that matters had reached such a point. "to-day is the 5th of September. at eleven o'clock. What could he say? What need he add to such a desperate proof in figures?" . turned. Then. "we have not fifteen thousand francs in the house. then.Emmanuel hesitated a moment. looking fixedly at his son." "To-day." "What will happen then?" "Why. but suddenly he recoiled." he exclaimed. while Maximilian followed him. He remained motionless on the spot. your father has nearly three hundred thousand francs to pay?" "Yes. but his desire to make Julie decide immediately made him reply." he said. then. he ran up-stairs. In this ledger was made out an exact balance-sheet of his affair's. rushing hastily out of the apartment.

but he died calmly and peaceably. after a moment's pause. I understand you. "I have. and in the name of three generations of irreproachable men. bending his knee. how solemn. struggle ardently and courageously." he said. "You know it is not my fault. my father!" cried the young man. I make no requests or commands. "Oh." replied Morrel. 'My father died because he could not do what I have this day done. your mother and sister. and then judge for yourself. Go to work. "You have no money coming in on which you can rely?" "None. strong mind." Then extending his hand towards one of the pistols. "Your mother--your sister! Who will support them?" A shudder ran through the young man's frame. then. 'The edifice which misfortune has destroyed." "And in half an hour." said Morrel." he said. my son. and with a slow and sad gesture he took off his two epaulets. my father." answered Morrel. "Father. To you. then an expression of sublime resignation appeared in his eyes. father. and kissing his forehead several times said. You have a calm. that day of complete restoration. he said. yes. you are no ordinary man. with the most rigid economy. on which you will say in this very office. Maximilian. And now there is no more to be said. Reflect how glorious a day it will be. "There is one for you and one for me--thanks!" Morrel caught his hand. "I know.' On seeing me die such a death." "Good. yourself. extending his hand to Morrel.'" "My father. I bless you in my own name. live. labor. because in dying he knew what I should do. "it is your duty. "bless me!" Morrel took the head of his son between his two hands. Maximilian. father. and those two noble hearts were pressed against each other for a moment. "die in peace. the most inexorable will have pity on you. "do you reflect that you are bidding me to live?" "Yes. to meet this disastrous result?" asked the young man." The young man reflected for a moment. the insignia of his rank. I only ask you to examine my position as if it were your own. who say through me. father. Maximilian smiled." Morrel was about to cast himself on his knees before his son. drew him forward. yes. my father. go and rejoin your mother and sister. I do so bid you. perhaps. but Maximilian caught him in his arms. you are the most honorable man I have ever known." said Maximilian in a gloomy voice. they will accord the time they have refused to me." said the young man. "Be it so. how grand. "our name is dishonored!" "Blood washes out dishonor. providence may build up again. "why should you not live?" ." "My father." said Morrel. I will live." "You have exhausted every resource?" "All.And have you done all that is possible. Then do your best to keep our name free from dishonor. so that from day to day the property of those whom I leave in your hands may augment and fructify. "You are right. young man.

500 francs. but offered me three months." And he rushed out of the study. "Suppose I was a soldier like you. and ordered to carry a certain redoubt." said Maximilian." and once again embracing his father with convulsive pressure. Maximilian. You will find my will in the secretary in my bedroom. Morrel remained an instant standing with his eyes fixed on the door. yes. because. I will. "yes. my best friends would avoid my house. would you not say to me. my father?" inquired Maximilian in a faltering voice. my son. I would be alone. "Yes. Living. Its agent. and endeavor to keep your mother and sister away. "I saw her this morning.'" The young man uttered a groan. adieu. as you said just now. my corpse is that of an honest but unfortunate man. "And now. you would feel shame at my name." "The house of Thomson & French is the only one who. all Marseilles will follow me in tears to my last home. interest would be converted into doubt. 'Go. I die. if I live. This thought--the house of Morrel is about to stop payment--bent him to the earth more than twenty years would otherwise have done. "Be it so. and a sacred command. Morrel shook his head. or. "Hear me. Cocles appeared. then putting forth his arm. for the first time. my son. It was no longer the same man--the fearful revelations of the three last days had crushed him. ." "Have you no particular commands to leave with me. "leave me alone. A last but final hope was concealed by the young man in the effect of this interview." "Say it. Living. he said." said the young man." said his father. having but the force of will and not the power of execution. failed in his engagements--in fact. Let this house be the first repaid. and bade her adieu. I will not say granted. dead. on the contrary. pity into hostility. he pulled the bell. only a bankrupt. from humanity. 'I am the son of him you killed. If. When his son had left him. "And now. father." The young man remained standing and motionless. if I live I am only a man who his broken his word." "Will you not see my sister once more?" asked Maximilian. and you knew I must be killed in the assault. dead. my father. he has been compelled to break his word. it may be."If I live. my father." "Father." said Morrel. all would be changed. "Go. and therefore he had suggested it. Maximilian. once more. and respect this man." said Morrel. who will in ten minutes present himself to receive the amount of a bill of 287. and death is preferable to shame!'" "Yes. but appeared resigned. leave me. you may raise your head and say. selfishness--it is not for me to read men's hearts--has had any pity for me. remember. for you are dishonored by delay. After a moment's interval.

announce his arrival to me. my child. after he had read it. see!" said the young girl. out of breath. "what do you mean?" "Yes. "And did you go alone?" asked Morrel. No. "do you remain in the ante-chamber. and wrote a few words. he was surrounded by the loving care of a devoted family. it seemed to him a dream. At this moment the clock struck eleven." He placed the muzzle of the pistol between his teeth. and then shuddered at the click of the trigger as he cocked the pistol. Then he laid it down seized his pen." Cocles made no reply. yet certainly plausible. The pistol fell from his hands. Then he turned again to the clock. He was to have waited for me at the . he made a sign with his head. counting time now not by minutes. Morrel did not turn round--he expected these words of Cocles. "Explain. with these words on a small slip of parchment:--Julie's Dowry. The hand moved on with incredible rapidity. At this moment of mortal anguish the cold sweat came forth upon his brow. on the corner of a mantelpiece in a small room on the fifth floor.000 francs. took one up. holding in her extended hand a red. that he must separate himself from all he held dear in the world. The minute hand moved on." he said." cried Morrel. went into the anteroom. "Explain."My worthy Cocles. and started as he did so." said Morrel in a tone impossible to describe. my child!" said Morrel. for a vague remembrance reminded him that it once belonged to himself. 15. "The agent of Thomson & French. "My father!" cried the young girl. When the gentleman who came three months ago--the agent of Thomson & French--arrives. even life itself. father. 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. To form the slightest idea of his feelings. a pang stronger than death clutched at his heart-strings. that was all." he said. but by seconds. my child. It seemed to him as if he had not taken a sufficient farewell of his beloved daughter. He was still comparatively young. saved--saved! See. you are saved!" And she threw herself into his arms. "Saved. but he had convinced himself by a course of reasoning. "Emmanuel accompanied me. At one end was the receipted bill for the 287. one must have seen his face with its expression of enforced resignation and its tear-moistened eyes raised to heaven. Morrel took the purse. What passed in the mind of this man at the supreme moment of his agony cannot be told in words. Suddenly he heard a cry--it was his daughter's voice. he stretched forth his hand. his eyes fixed on the clock. He turned and saw Julie. and at the other was a diamond as large as a hazel-nut. illogical perhaps. he seemed to see its motion. there were seven minutes left. and seated himself. "this purse is not yours!" Julie handed to her father the letter she had received in the morning. and half dead with joy--"saved. "explain--where did you find this purse?" "In a house in the Allees de Meillan. Morrel fell back in his chair. He felt as if each stroke of the hammer fell upon his heart. and murmured his daughter's name. netted silk purse. He took up the deadly weapon again. Morrel passed his hand over his brow. his lips parted and his eyes fixed on the clock." "But. The pistols were loaded.

was shaking hands most cordially with all the crowd around him. "if this be so. and thanking with a look the unknown benefactor whom he seemed to be seeking in the skies. She cast anchor. who had been afraid to go up into the study. as that had been. To doubt any longer was impossible. And. unheard-of. "The Pharaon. strange to say. "The Pharaon." said the unknown. and on the deck was Captain Gaumard giving orders. and who. the Pharaon!" said every voice. Morrel & Son. in front of the tower of Saint-Jean. he left his hiding-place. printed in white letters. his countenance full of animation and joy. concealed behind the sentry-box. clued up sails." She was the exact duplicate of the other Pharaon. his strength was failing him. with his face half-covered by a black beard. and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like your good deeds. it must be a miracle of heaven! Impossible." said Morrel. he was not there when I returned." exclaimed Cocles. and conveyed him to a yacht splendidly fitted up.--"Monsieur Morrel!" "It is his voice!" said Julie. and heaven have pity upon us if it be false intelligence!" They all went out." said Morrel." And with a smile expressive of supreme content. thence he once again looked towards Morrel.corner of the Rue de Musee. sir. impossible!" But what was real and not less incredible was the purse he held in his hand. Morrel. rising from his seat. Emmanuel? You know the vessel is lost." "Monsieur Morrel!" exclaimed a voice on the stairs. weeping with joy. and good old Penelon making signals to M. But his son came in. on whose deck he sprung with the activity of a sailor. There was a crowd on the pier. was a ship bearing on her stern these words. watched the scene with delight. and hailing three times. with cochineal and indigo. be blessed for all the good thou hast done and wilt do hereafter. "And now. "how could you say the Pharaon was lost? The lookout has signalled her. All the crowd gave way before Morrel. "The Pharaon!" he cried. there was the evidence of the senses. and without being observed. "Ah. sir--they signal the Pharaon! The Pharaon is entering the harbor!" Morrel fell back in his chair. and they say she is now coming into port. humanity. shouted "Jacopo. "Father. "farewell kindness. "the Pharaon!" "What--what--the Pharaon! Are you mad. the acceptance receipted--the splendid diamond. dear ones. who. At this moment Emmanuel entered. "let us go and see. took him on board. descended one of the flights of steps provided for debarkation. and gratitude! Farewell to . As Morrel and his son embraced on the pier-head." "My dear friends. and ten thousand persons who came to corroborate the testimony. uttered these words in a low tone: "Be happy. fabulous facts. and on the stairs met Madame Morrel. wonderful to see. a man." cried Maximilian. Jacopo!" Then a launch came to shore. "what can it mean?--the Pharaon?" "Come." "The Pharaon. In a moment they were at the Cannebiere. refused to comprehend such incredible. in the presence and amid the applause of the whole city witnessing this event. of Marseilles. Jacopo. and loaded. his understanding weakened by such events. but. noble heart.

the cradle of Bonaparte) to visit Elba. as if only awaiting this signal. Piazza di Spagna. he returned to the boat very much out of temper. As for Franz. They had agreed to see the Carnival at Rome that year. indeed!" said the young man. this island is a mass of rocks. to reserve comfortable apartments for them. after having followed the traces which the footsteps of the giant have left. "you might have capital sport. he took a fancy into his head (having already visited Corsica. Chapter 31. and. two young men belonging to the first society of Paris. As it is no inconsiderable affair to spend the Carnival at Rome. They accepted his offer. for the island is uninhabited. the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf and the Baron Franz d'Epinay. who for the last three or four years had inhabited Italy. he remained at Florence. but wishing to make the best use of the time that was left." said the captain. The sport was bad. they wrote to Signor Pastrini." "Your excellency does not require a permit. Albert started for Naples. and does not contain an acre of land capable of cultivation.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. and spending two or three evenings at the houses of the Florentine nobility. and. the yacht instantly put out to sea. which he offered at the low charge of a louis per diem." . what is this island?" "The Island of Monte Cristo. Franz only succeeded in killing a few partridges. or the Campo Vaccino. if your excellency chose." "Where?" "Do you see that island?" continued the captain. Signor Pastrini replied that he had only two rooms and a parlor on the third floor. where he was assured that red partridges abounded. Two hours after he again landed at Pianosa. "Ah. pointing to a conical pile rising from the indigo sea.--"To the Island of Elba!" The boat shot out of the harbor like a bird and the next morning Franz disembarked at Porto-Ferrajo." "It is very natural. especially when you have no great desire to sleep on the Piazza del Popolo. He traversed the island. the waiting-place of Napoleon. wrapped himself in his coat and lay down. and said to the crew. One evening he cast off the painter of a sailboat from the iron ring that secured it to the dock at Leghorn. were at Florence. and that Franz." "Ah. like every unsuccessful sportsman. should act as cicerone to Albert. and after having passed a few days in exploring the paradise of the Cascine. Italy: Sinbad the Sailor. the proprietor of the Hotel de Londres. "A desert island in the midst of the Mediterranean must be a curiosity. "Well." "But I have no permission to shoot over this island. Towards the beginning of the year 1838. and re-embarked for Marciana.

and if the wind drops we can use our oars. "No. we shall have to perform quarantine for six days on our return to Leghorn."To whom does this island belong?" "To Tuscany." "Who live upon the stones. a very different kind of game from the goats." "The deuce! That puts a different face on the matter. nor I. the sailors exchanged a few words together in a low tone. we can leave as soon as you like--we can sail as well by night as by day. and the boat was soon sailing in the direction of the island." "Where can I sleep?" "On shore in the grottos. but by browsing the shrubs and trees that grow out of the crevices of the rocks. Franz waited until all was in order. "Well. your excellency. who are. and if it becomes known that we have been there. Sardinia." chorused the sailors. Six days! Why." "What game shall I find there!" "Thousands of wild goats. pirates existed only in the romances of Cooper and Captain Marryat." said Franz with an incredulous smile. it seems to me. and when the sail was filled. Upon his answer in the affirmative. but I thought that since the capture of Algiers." "But who will say your excellency has been to Monte Cristo?" "Oh. yet serves occasionally as a refuge for the smugglers and pirates who come from Corsica." . "but we must warn your excellency that the island is an infected port. the helm was put up." "Yes." "I knew there were smugglers. "Nor I. and it is true." "What do you mean?" "Monte Cristo although uninhabited. "Gaetano. "Then steer for Monte Cristo." As Franz had sufficient time. or on board in your cloak. and the four sailors had taken their places--three forward. if your excellency pleases." said he to the captain. and the destruction of the regency. and Africa. "you tell me Monte Cristo serves as a refuge for pirates. 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." replied the captain. I shall not. and one at the helm--he resumed the conversation. "what now? Is there any difficulty in the way?" "No." asked he." The captain gave his orders. he accepted the proposition. besides." cried Franz. I suppose.

rob travellers at the gates of Rome. has not arrived. and as I wish to enjoy . and then they leave her. Now this rock it has met has been a long and narrow boat. and won victory at a single thrust. near some desert and gloomy island. or an English yacht that was expected at Bastia. retreated. then the other. they transfer from the vessel to their own boat whatever they think worth taking. and why the vessel never reaches port?" It is probable that if Gaetano had related this previous to proposing the expedition." "But. but now that they had started. and then all is over. some dark and stormy night.--calculated its probable method of approach. or at Civita Vecchia. then. but. "but you questioned me. Then they lift and sink again. and I have answered. and both go under at once. At the end of ten minutes the vessel begins to roll heavily and settle down. you would hear." "I did not tell your excellency this to deter you from your project. if at all. and your conversation is most interesting. a large hole is chopped in the vessel's bottom. spins round and round. he thought it would be cowardly to draw back. or Tuscan governments?" "Why?" said Gaetano with a smile. forming a vast whirlpool in the ocean. like the bandits who were believed to have been exterminated by Pope Leo XII. manned by six or eight men. "Bah!" said he.. Has not your excellency heard that the French charge d'affaires was robbed six months ago within five hundred paces of Velletri?" "Oh. combat it with the most unalterable coolness. "Yes. that's all. He was one of those men who do not rashly court danger. why?" "Because." "Yes. there are pirates. yes. in the first place."Your excellency is mistaken. Calm and resolute. that a little merchant vessel. First one gun'l goes under. your excellency lived at Leghorn. All at once there's a noise like a cannon--that's the air blowing up the deck. as bandits plunder a carriage in the recesses of a forest. was quick to see an opening for attack." asked Franz." "Well. no one knows what has become of it. it has struck on a rock and foundered. but if danger presents itself. Soon the water rushes out of the scupper-holes like a whale spouting. who have surprised and plundered it. so that in five minutes nothing but the eye of God can see the vessel where she lies at the bottom of the sea. and yet I never saw even the shadow of a bandit or a pirate. doubtless. then they bind the crew hand and foot. from time to time. at Porto-Ferrajo. as a point of strategy and not from cowardice. every day. and who yet. and disappears. "why no complaints are made to the government. they attach to every one's neck a four and twenty pound ball. Franz would have hesitated. "why do not those who have been plundered complain to the French. who lay wrapped in his cloak at the bottom of the boat. he treated any peril as he would an adversary in a duel." replied Gaetano." said the captain. Sardinian. Do you understand now. I heard that. if. the vessel gives a last groan. "I have travelled through Sicily and Calabria--I have sailed two months in the Archipelago. like us.

like the giant Adamastor. As for the sailors. "Hush!" said the captain. then gloom gradually covered the summit as it had covered the base. and fearing to excite the mirth of the sailors by mistaking a floating cloud for land. that goes for nothing. when Franz fancied he saw. like the lynx. showing their rugged peaks in bold relief. whose mountains appeared against the sky. the boat made six or seven knots an hour. half an hour after. "It seems to me rather reassuring than otherwise. but I said also that it served sometimes as a harbor for smugglers. like the fiery crest of a volcano. men who did not wish to be seen would not light a fire. "If you can guess the position of the island in the darkness. to see in the dark. as you see. and knew every rock in the Tuscan Archipelago. and the air was so clear that they could already distinguish the rocks heaped on one another. and that they carefully watched the glassy surface over which they were sailing. Fortunately. "What is this light?" asked he. a dark mass. for in the midst of this obscurity Franz was not without uneasiness--Corsica had long since disappeared. rose dead ahead. but the sailors seemed. this fire indicates the presence of unpleasant neighbors?" "That is what we must find out. this mass of rock. at last the reflection rested on the summit of the mountain. repeating Franz's words. he remained silent. but only from the sea. then. and the pilot who steered did not evince the slightest hesitation. and the island now only appeared to be a gray mountain that grew continually darker." "Oh. suddenly a great light appeared on the strand. They were within fifteen miles of Monte Cristo when the sun began to set behind Corsica." "You think. and on which a few fishing-boats. you will see that the fire cannot be seen from the side or from Pianosa. fixing his eyes on . at a quarter of a mile to the left. An hour had passed since the sun had set. like cannon balls in an arsenal." "And for pirates?" "And for pirates." "But you told me the island was uninhabited?" "I said there were no fixed habitations on it. although they appeared perfectly tranquil yet it was evident that they were on the alert. the mariners were used to these latitudes. where it paused an instant. "It is for that reason I have given orders to pass the island. but the fire was not a meteor. but he could not precisely make out what it was.it as long as possible." returned Gaetano. the fire is behind us. a formidable barrier. with green bushes and trees growing in the crevices." "But this fire?" continued Franz. the night was quite dark. land might resemble a cloud." returned Gaetano. and they were rapidly reaching the end of their voyage. with their white sails." said Gaetano. steer for Monte Cristo. were alone visible. for. Little by little the shadow rose higher and seemed to drive before it the last rays of the expiring day. "it is a fire." The wind blew strongly. and Monte Cristo itself was invisible. As they drew near the island seemed to lift from the sea. and intercepting the light that gilded its massive peaks so that the voyagers were in shadow.

after these preparations he placed his finger on his lips. This track soon disappeared. you can't refuse help to a poor hunted devil. would not be difficult. and the swimmer was soon on board. well. and lowering himself noiselessly into the sea. smiling impenetrably. we receive them. and secured his trousers round his waist.this terrestrial star. looked at the priming. "Then you know the men who are now on Monte Cristo?" "Oh. when the same luminous track was again observed. smugglers are not thieves. "Well?" exclaimed Franz and the sailors in unison." "And what are these Corsican bandits doing here with Spanish smugglers?" "Alas. and in a few minutes the fire disappeared." "And do you think we have nothing to fear if we land?" "Nothing at all. During this time the captain had thrown off his vest and shirt. All this was done in silence." returned the captain with an accent of the most profound pity. Gaetano?" "Your excellency. and after five minutes' discussion a manoeuvre was executed which caused the vessel to tack about. and the boat came to rest. they see a vessel. "they have with them two Corsican bandits. This costs us nothing. of a fellow-creature. and recognize each other by signs. they returned the way they had come. and from the moment that their course was changed not a word was spoken. his feet were naked. "They are Spanish smugglers." returned the other." "Ah!" said Franz. he could only be traced by the phosphorescent line in his wake. had taken all the responsibility on himself. or at least the liberty. "we ought always to help one another. who had proposed the expedition. Every one on board remained motionless for half an hour. the four sailors fixed their eyes on him. he had two double-barrelled guns and a rifle. they come and demand hospitality of us. he loaded them. which rapidly approached the island. and saves the life. it was evident that he had touched the shore. Gaetano. hidden by an elevation of the land. The pilot again changed the course of the boat. we must live somehow. and waited quietly. who on the first occasion returns the service by pointing out some safe spot where we can land our goods without interruption. and was soon within fifty paces of it. "How can you find out?" "You shall see." said he. swam towards the shore with such precaution that it was impossible to hear the slightest sound." Gaetano consulted with his companions. "then you are a smuggler occasionally." . while they got out their oars and held themselves in readiness to row away. which. Very often the bandits are hard pressed by gendarmes or carbineers. As for Franz. and good fellows like us on board. thanks to the darkness. yes. he examined his arms with the utmost coolness. Gaetano lowered the sail. and for greater security we stand out to sea. so he had no shoes and stockings to take off. we sailors are like freemasons.

calculating the chances of peril. it was a grave one. but your excellency will permit us to take all due precautions. For a man who. we shall be able to hold them in check. he kept his eye on the crew. which had appeared improbable during the day. viewed his position in its true light. and his gun in his hand. The sailors had again hoisted sail. The blaze illumined the sea for a hundred paces around. Do you think they will grant it?" "Without doubt. when they were opposite the fire. of which his companions sung the chorus. and who had often examined his weapons. without any other escort than these men. he was about to land. and then. as if it was not in a Corsican's nature to revenge himself. thanks to the smugglers and bandits."But these two Corsican bandits?" said Franz. placed as he was between two possible sources of danger." "Just our number. Every one obeyed." "How many are they?" "Four." said the young man. he saw the fire more brilliant than ever. could see the looming shore along which the boat was sailing. for the last time. "I mean that they have killed an enemy. be as wise as Nestor and as prudent as Ulysses. who knew that he had several thousand francs in his belt. I exhort you." "What do you mean by having made a stiff?--having assassinated a man?" said Franz." "By all means. They soon . at least with curiosity. and the two bandits make six. I do more than permit." "Silence. "Well." "How so?" "Because they are pursued for having made a stiff. so that if they prove troublesome. continuing his investigation. on an island which had. so. but that of the authorities. like Franz. and about it five or six persons seated. carefully keeping the boat in the shadow.--if not with envy. steer to Monte Cristo. singing a fishing song. but which did not seem to Franz likely to afford him much hospitality. indeed. "It is not their fault that they are bandits. On the other hand. At the first words of the song the men seated round the fire arose and approached the landing-place. Gaetano skirted the light." "Yes. and who had no reason to be devoted to him. The history of the scuttled vessels. and the vessel was once more cleaving the waves." returned the captain. he steered to the centre of the circle. evidently seeking to know who the new-comers were and what were their intentions. then. then!" said Gaetano. Through the darkness Franz.--which were very beautiful. seemed very probable at night. "let us demand hospitality of these smugglers and bandits. their eyes fixed on the boat. as they rounded a rocky point. a very religious name. whose eyes were now more accustomed to it. which is a very different thing. He was alone in the darkness with sailors whom he did not know.

--merely say I am a Frenchman travelling for pleasure. half a dozen partridges. As for his suspicions. exchanged a few words with the sentinel. appearance of his hosts. "My name must rest unknown. "Besides. "Who comes there?" in Sardinian. one of the halting-places of the wandering visitors of Monte Cristo. Around in the crevices of the rocks grew a few dwarf oaks and thick bushes of myrtles. The sailors did not wait for a second invitation." said Franz. inhaling the aroma of the roasted meat. Franz with his disembarkment. the sailors with their sails. four strokes of the oar brought them to land. presented arms after the manner of a sentinel. The man who had disappeared returned suddenly on the opposite side to that by which he had left. but.appeared satisfied and returned (with the exception of one. his dress. then his comrades disembarked. every one seemed occupied. Gaetano sprang to shore. or rather." Gaetano faltered an excuse. you are welcome. half artist. and a sailor held his rifle. and." returned Franz. turning to the boat." The Italian s'accommodi is untranslatable. "S'accommodi. his anxiety had quite disappeared. who carried a carbine. "if the smell of their roast meat tempts you. but which evidently concerned him. and cried. make yourself at home. you are the master. and saw by the mass of cinders that had accumulated that he was not the first to discover this retreat. "anything new?--do they refuse?" . Franz lowered a torch. "go and try. if you please. had turned to appetite. They advanced about thirty paces. who replied that nothing could be more easy than to prepare a supper when they had in their boat. who remained at the shore) to their fire. Not a word was spoken. which was." "You are a born diplomat. "Will your excellency give your name. at which the carcass of a goat was roasting. "Not that way. the spot they chose did not suit the smuggler who filled the post of sentinel. Franz coolly cocked both barrels. half dandy. doubtless. and they advanced a few paces to find a comfortable bivouac. it means at once. consequently. the smugglers with their goat. when the captain returned with a mysterious air. at sight of the goat. the sentinel gave an order to one of the men seated round the fire. and lastly came Franz. wine. for he cried out." added he. the man on the beach. "Come. enter. while two sailors kindled torches at the fire to light them on their way. no disquietude. doubtless. Gaetano then exchanged a few words with this man which the traveller did not understand. and a good fire to roast them by." It is like that Turkish phrase of Moliere's that so astonished the bourgeois gentleman by the number of things implied in its utterance. Franz waited impatiently. "Well. The boat was moored to the shore. but in the midst of all this carelessness it was evident that they mutually observed each other. who rose and disappeared among the rocks. and then stopped at a small esplanade surrounded with rocks. he made a sign with his head to the sentinel. or remain incognito?" asked the captain. When the boat was within twenty paces of the shore. once that he had seen the indifferent. if not friendly. in which seats had been cut. and advanced to the opposite side." As soon as Gaetano had transmitted this answer. bread. did not excite any suspicion. One of his guns was swung over his shoulder. He mentioned this to Gaetano. said. who. once on terra firma." Meanwhile the sailors had collected dried sticks and branches with which they made a fire. Gaetano had the other. I will go and offer them two of our birds for a slice. not unlike sentry-boxes.

" "Well. Cama. and rather a peculiar one." "The deuce!--and what is this condition?" "That you are blindfolded. it is quite true.--I should go." "Favorably or otherwise?" "Both. "Ah. it is not that. what he thought of this proposal." "Do you know. then?" "No." "You know this chief." "There is something very peculiar about this chief. "I know this is a serious matter. to see. if possible." said Gaetano. "the chief. who was told you were a young Frenchman. vowing that such treasures were only to be heard of in fairy tales. "What do they say?" "That this chief inhabits a cavern to which the Pitti Palace is nothing." "His house? Has he built one here. and he came back amazed. "this chief is very polite. "It is no nonsense. the pilot of the Saint Ferdinand." observed Franz." replied he. and do not take off the bandage until he himself bids you." Franz looked at Gaetano. were it only out of curiosity. for supper. reseating himself. guessing Franz's thought." "What should you do in my place?" "I. lowering his voice. "I do not know if what they say is true"--he stopped to see if any one was near. and I see no objection--the more so as I bring my share of the supper."On the contrary." observed Franz." "What nonsense!" said Franz. went in once. but he has a very comfortable one all the same." "Oh. he has plenty. who have nothing to lose. invites you to sup with him. then?" "Listen. "that with such stories you make me think of Ali Baba's enchanted cavern?" "I tell you what I have been told. before he will receive you at his house." "You would accept?" "Yes. then?" "I have heard talk of him. but he makes one condition." returned Gaetano. and to spare." "Then you advise me to accept?" . so they say.

since the two accounts do not agree." "And how did a leader of smugglers." "Is it a very beautiful vessel?" "I would not wish for a better to sail round the world. I don't say that." "Sinbad the Sailor?" "Yes. and wished to learn all he possibly could concerning his host." Franz pondered the matter for a few moments. "he is still more mysterious. I should be sorry to advise you in the matter. "I know their vessel."Oh. accepted. during this dialogue. and seeing only the prospect of a good supper." ." "Come. but I doubt if it be his real name. he had not then spoken to any one. but Gaetano did. He turned towards the sailor." replied the sailor." returned the sailor." "Gaetano had only seen the vessel from a distance. concluded that a man so rich could not have any intention of plundering him of what little he had. Franz was prudent. Gaetano departed with the reply." continued Franz. "venture to build a vessel designed for such a purpose at Genoa?" "I did not say that the owner was a smuggler. and asked him how these men had landed. who is he?" "A wealthy signor." thought Franz. who. as no vessel of any kind was visible." "And if this person be not a smuggler. who travels for his pleasure. I thought." "Of what burden is she?" "About a hundred tons. "Never mind that. but she is built to stand any weather. had sat gravely plucking the partridges with the air of a man proud of his office." "What country does he come from?" "I do not know." "Where was she built?" "I know not." "What is his name?" "If you ask him he says Sinbad the Sailor." "And where does he reside?" "On the sea. She is what the English call a yacht. but my own opinion is she is a Genoese. "No. your excellency will do as you please.

and projecting direct from the brow." "Decidedly." muttered Franz. But what astonished Franz. like the men of the south. to seek for this enchanted palace?" "Oh. evidently advancing towards that part of the shore where they would not allow Gaetano to go--a refusal he could now comprehend. were set off to admiration by the black mustache that encircled them. but always in vain. and knew thus that he was passing the bivouac. I beg you will remove your bandage. this man had a remarkably handsome face."Have you ever seen him?" "Sometimes. yes." "Have you never had the curiosity. Although of a paleness that was almost livid. quite straight. "Welcome. Then his two guides took his arms. Without uttering a word. they say that the door is not opened by a key. who had treated Gaetano's description as a fable." It may be supposed. and yellow slippers. pantaloons of deep red." said a voice. and his guides let go their hold of him. but we never could find the slightest trace of any opening. his nose. large and full gaiters of the same color. had small hands and feet. and preceded by the sentinel. and presented it to the man who had spoken to him. and he went on. was of the pure Greek type. and became balmy and perfumed. Presently. he knew that they were entering a cave. and. and found himself in the presence of a man from thirty-eight to forty years of age. a red cap with a long blue silk tassel. then. . as white as pearls. in excellent French. embroidered with gold like the vest." "His excellency waits for you. while his teeth. after going on for a few seconds more he heard a crackling. sir. "this is an Arabian Nights' adventure. he smelt the appetizing odor of the kid that was roasting. we examined the grotto all over. more than once. Franz did not wait for a repetition of this permission. but took off the handkerchief. they then led him on about fifty paces farther. Afterwards he was made to promise that he would not make the least attempt to raise the bandage. He was accompanied by two of the yacht's crew. said. that it seemed to pertain to one who had been long entombed. although. and then a voice. but extremely well made. At length his feet touched on a thick and soft carpet. which he recognized as that of the sentinel. when you have landed and found this island deserted. with a foreign accent." "Where will he receive me?" "No doubt in the subterranean palace Gaetano told you of. guided by them." "What sort of a man is he?" "Your excellency will judge for yourself. and it seemed to him as though the atmosphere again changed. He was not particularly tall. they bandaged his eyes with a care that showed their apprehensions of his committing some indiscretion. His pallor was so peculiar. by a change in the atmosphere. and who was incapable of resuming the healthy glow and hue of life. After going about thirty paces. There was a moment's silence. and a small sharp and crooked cangiar was passed through his girdle. Franz drew his handkerchief from his pocket. his eyes were penetrating and sparkling. but a magic word. he had a splendid cashmere round his waist. He promised. a vest of black cloth embroidered with gold. dressed in a Tunisian costume--that is to say.

I tell you that I am generally called 'Sinbad the Sailor. "will tell you. will you now take the trouble to enter the dining-room." he said. in which they sunk to the instep. such as is my supper. were four magnificent statues. and once convinced of this important point he cast his eyes around him. but because I should not have the certainty I now possess of separating myself from all the rest of mankind at pleasure. my dear sir. and also in front of another door. I should doubtless. is the supper ready?" At this moment the tapestry moved aside. that I too much respect the laws of hospitality to ask your name or title. after a pause. as I only require his wonderful lamp to make me precisely like Aladdin. that I see no reason why at this moment I should not be called Aladdin." replied Franz. there were . As for myself. it is at your disposal.was the splendor of the apartment in which he found himself. made a sign to his master that all was prepared in the dining-room. "you heard our repast announced. leading into a second apartment which seemed to be brilliantly illuminated. but as. it is yours to share. moving aside the tapestry. I may say with Lucullus. The dining-room was scarcely less striking than the room he had just left. The entire chamber was lined with crimson brocade. worked with flowers of gold. "make no apologies. for instance. and the handles resplendent with gems. with antique bas-reliefs of priceless value. which was oblong. tapestry hung before the door by which Franz had entered.'" "And I. "Now. of beautiful shape and color. those of Raoul in the 'Huguenots. if you will." "Well. These baskets contained four pyramids of most splendid fruit. surmounted with a stand of Arabian swords in silver scabbards. not even taking his eyes off him. Signor Aladdin. Pray observe. Ali. I would have prepared for it.' and really I have nothing to complain of. that I may put you at your ease." replied Franz." "Ma foi. and offer you what no doubt you did not expect to find here--that is to say. during the greater portion of the year. then. while the feet rested on a Turkey carpet. I have always observed that they bandage people's eyes who penetrate enchanted palaces. I only request you to give me one by which I may have the pleasure of addressing you. "Sir. from the ceiling hung a lamp of Venetian glass. and a Nubian. "a thousand excuses for the precaution taken in your introduction hither." said the unknown to Franz. returned look for look. your humble servant going first to show the way?" At these words. this island is deserted. having baskets in their hands. a tolerable supper and pretty comfortable beds. But such as is my hermitage. That will keep us from going away from the East whither I am tempted to think I have been conveyed by some good genius. Sinbad preceded his guest. 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. moreover. for what I see makes me think of the wonders of the 'Arabian Nights. In a recess was a kind of divan. find on my return my temporary retirement in a state of great disorder. it was entirely of marble. and dressed in a plain white tunic. "I do not know if you are of my opinion. black as ebony. if the secret of this abode were discovered. the table was splendidly covered." replied the singular amphitryon. Franz now looked upon another scene of enchantment. and. which would be exceedingly annoying. not for the loss it occasioned me.'" "Alas. The host gave Franz time to recover from his surprise. Let me now endeavor to make you forget this temporary unpleasantness. and at the four corners of this apartment. if I could have anticipated the honor of your visit.

that the guest complimented his host thereupon." said the unknown with a singular smile. and acquitted himself so admirably. I always had a desire to have a mute in my service. I made a vow at a time when I little thought I should ever be able to accomplish it. The dishes were of silver." Although Sinbad pronounced these words with much calmness." Ali approached his master. so learning the day his tongue was cut out. "Would it be impertinent. and a gigantic lobster. the hand the second. oranges from the Balearic Isles. Ali alone was present to wait at table. but on condition that the poor fellow never again set foot in Tunis. and agreed to forgive the hand and head. they are simple enough. he runs down below." said Franz. your pallid complexion. his eyes gave forth gleams of extraordinary ferocity. the real life of a pasha. He remembers that I saved his life. This was a useless clause in the bargain. He hesitated a moment. a boar's ham with jelly. "What makes you suppose so?" "Everything.Sicily pine-apples." Franz remained a moment silent and pensive. half-cruelty. "Yes. and the plates of Japanese china. your look. "you pass your life in travelling?" "Yes. "to ask you the particulars of this kindness?" "Oh. "And like the celebrated sailor whose name you have assumed. and even the life you lead. and he was condemned by the bey to have his tongue cut out. for whenever the coward sees the first glimpse of the shores of Africa." "I?--I live the happiest life possible. Franz rubbed his eyes in order to assure himself that this was not a dream. and proposed to give him for Ali a splendid double-barreled gun which I knew he was very desirous of having." answered Franz. Between these large dishes were smaller ones containing various dainties. and kissed it. "You have suffered a great deal. as he replied. I get . a quarter of a kid with tartar sauce. he feels some gratitude towards me for having kept it on his shoulders. took his hand. by way of changing the conversation. and the head the third. while he did the honors of the supper with much ease and grace--"yes." replied he. the tongue the first day. and can only be induced to appear again when we are out of sight of that quarter of the globe." he said. peaches from France. Signor Sinbad. and as he has a regard for his head. he was so very desirous to complete the poor devil's punishment. and dates from Tunis. The supper consisted of a roast pheasant garnished with Corsican blackbirds. and his hand and head cut off.--"your voice. he is a poor devil who is much devoted to me. Sinbad started and looked fixedly at him. I am king of all creation. and does all he can to prove it. pomegranates from Malaga. the bey yielded. I went to the bey. "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. "and I made some others also which I hope I may fulfil in due season. with which his host related the brief narrative. But when I added to the gun an English cutlass with which I had shivered his highness's yataghan to pieces. hardly knowing what to think of the half-kindness. and stay there. I am pleased with one place. a glorious turbot. sir?" said Franz inquiringly." replied the host.

Such as you see me I am. I must seem to you by no means curious. The care with which Ali placed this cup on the table roused Franz's curiosity. "And why revenge?" he asked." "I should avail myself of your offer with pleasure." responded Sinbad. it will be.tired of it." "But. and I will endeavor to repay you. has a fearful account to settle with it. and then casting his eyes towards his host he saw him smile at his disappointment. as far as lies in my power. in all probability. for instance!" observed Franz." "And do you propose to make this journey very shortly?" "I do not know. that green preserve is nothing less than the ambrosia which Hebe served at the table of Jupiter." "I should like to be there at the time you come." "Well. I really cannot. a sort of philosopher." replied Franz. you would not desire any other. my attendants obey my slightest wish. "but. but which was perfectly unknown to him. and which no one sees. and would never return to the world unless you had some great project to accomplish there. for your liberal hospitality displayed to me at Monte Cristo. for the unknown scarcely touched one or two dishes of the splendid banquet to which his guest did ample justice. "this ambrosia. silent and sure. Sometimes I amuse myself by delivering some bandit or criminal from the bonds of the law. incognito. Then Ali brought on the dessert. "You have not guessed rightly. Then I have my mode of dispensing justice. or rather took the baskets from the hands of the statues and placed them on the table. it will." "Revenge. without respite or appeal." "And will that be the first time you ever took that journey?" "Yes. then. The unknown fixed on the young man one of those looks which penetrate into the depth of the heart and thoughts. laughing with his singular laugh which displayed his white and sharp teeth. I am free as a bird and have wings like one. and one day perhaps I shall go to Paris to rival Monsieur Appert. persecuted by society. no doubt. unfortunately. "what there is in that small vase. in passing through mortal hands has lost its heavenly appellation and assumed a human name. 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. and the little man in the blue cloak. He raised the cover and saw a kind of greenish paste. "you seem to me like a man who. something like preserved angelica. He replaced the lid." replied Franz. it depends on circumstances which depend on certain arrangements. Between the two baskets he placed a small silver cup with a silver cover. and leave it. if I go there. which condemns or pardons. Ah. if you had tasted my life." replied the host. "You cannot guess." said he. . "Because. as ignorant of what the cup contained as he was before he had looked at it." The supper appeared to have been supplied solely for Franz. can you?" "No.

There is a struggle in nature against this divine substance. ever-ripe fruit. you advance free in heart. "we frequently pass so near to happiness without seeing. believing that the death they underwent was but a quick transition to that life of delights of which the holy herb. since it is only to do thus? look!" At these words he uncovered the small cup which contained the substance so lauded." cried Sinbad. king of the universe. and is it not an easy thing. king of creation." "Then.in vulgar phrase. What these happy persons took for reality was but a dream. says Marco Polo. and is gold your god? taste this. for which. thus it is that our material origin is revealed. but it was a dream so soft. Signor Aladdin. or England. the man to whom there should be built a palace. the only man.--the hashish of Abou-Gor. and Golconda are opened to you. died in torture without a murmur. it is hashish--the purest and most unadulterated hashish of Alexandria. raised it to his lips. free in mind. what may you term this composition. inscribed with these words. "it is hashish! I know that--by name at least. to tell the truth." "Judge for yourself. in the midst of ever-blooming shrubs. and the boundaries of possibility disappear. Are you ambitious. had given them a slight foretaste. that they sold themselves body and soul to him who gave it to them. which transported them to Paradise. Franz did not disturb him whilst he absorbed his favorite sweetmeat. he inquired.--in nature which is not made for joy and clings to pain. the celebrated maker. struck down the designated victim. you will be king and master of all the kingdoms of the earth. 'A grateful world to the dealer in happiness. is this precious stuff?" "Did you ever hear. not a king of a petty kingdom hidden in some corner of Europe like France. and in these gardens isolated pavilions. we must habituate the senses to a fresh impression. and do you seek after the greatnesses of the earth? taste this. In this valley were magnificent gardens planted by Hassen-ben-Sabah. "of the Old Man of the Mountain. Into these pavilions he admitted the elect. I do not feel any particular desire?" "Ah. sad or joyous. or if we do see and regard it. Spain." "That is it precisely." he replied.--"What. and there." "Well. into the boundless realms of unfettered revery. yet without recognizing it. Like everything else. took a teaspoonful of the magic sweetmeat." said Franz. now before you. gave them to eat a certain herb. the . and obedient to his orders as to those of a deity. "I have a very great inclination to judge for myself of the truth or exaggeration of your eulogies. you know he reigned over a rich valley which was overhung by the mountain whence he derived his picturesque name. Are you a man of imagination--a poet? taste this. and ever-lovely virgins. then. so enthralling. and in an hour you will be a king. and swallowed it slowly with his eyes half shut and his head bent backwards. Signor Aladdin--judge. the fields of infinite space open to you. Are you a man for the substantials. Guzerat. gentle or violent. but king of the world. so voluptuous. Nature subdued must yield in the combat. and the mines of Peru. but do not confine yourself to one trial.'" "Do you know. without bowing at the feet of Satan. who attempted to assassinate Philip Augustus?" "Of course I have." cried Franz. but when he had finished. Is it not tempting what I offer you. without regarding it.

you must seek me at Cairo. Bagdad. Let us now go into the adjoining chamber. "I do not know if the result will be as agreeable as you describe. and then the dream reigns supreme." They both arose. then the dream becomes life. for I feel eagle's wings springing out at my shoulders. It was round. and Ali will bring us coffee and pipes." said his host. they are the only men who know how to live." "Because your palate his not yet been attuned to the sublimity of the substances it flavors. cool or boiling? As you please. walls. that you would desire to live no longer. there were heavy-maned lion-skins from Atlas. Divan." "Ma foi. chibouques with jasmine tubes and amber mouthpieces were within reach. it is the same with hashish. striped tiger-skins from Bengal. with one of those singular smiles which did not escape the young man. into which we always sink when smoking excellent tobacco. and to give the smoker in exchange all the visions of the soul. and while he who called himself Sinbad--and whom we have occasionally named so." he added. "And you are right. which now appears to you flat and distasteful. "it would be the easiest thing in the world. those Orientals. only eat for a week. porter. bear-skins from Siberia. have some title by which to distinguish him--gave some orders to the servant. you would seem to leave a Neapolitan spring for a Lapland winter--to quit paradise for earth--heaven for hell! Taste the hashish." "I will take it in the Turkish style. did you like them? Could you comprehend how the Romans stuffed their pheasants with assafoetida. spotted beautifully. which Ali lighted and then retired to prepare the coffee. Tell me. like those that appeared to Dante. even in the midst of his conversation. It was simply yet richly furnished. were all covered with magnificent skins as soft and downy as the richest carpets. and nothing in the world will seem to you to equal the delicacy of its flavor. strong or weak. or Ispahan. floor. Both laid themselves down on the divan. after having swallowed the divine preserve. so that it seemed like walking over the most mossy turf. and sundry other dainties which you now adore. and Franz abandoned himself to that mute revery." Franz's only reply was to take a teaspoonful of the marvellous preparation. Ali brought in the coffee. that we might. ceiling. like his guest. "it shows you have a tendency for an Oriental life. tea. during which Sinbad gave himself up to thoughts that seemed to occupy him incessantly. As for me." said Franz. and the Chinese eat swallows' nests? Eh? no! Well. Franz entered still another apartment. guest of mine--taste the hashish. the first time you tasted oysters. panther-skins from the Cape. or reclining on the most luxurious bed. but the thing does not appear to me as palatable as you say. sugar or none. But what changes occur! It is only by comparing the pains of actual being with the joys of the assumed existence. Ah. Each of them took one.dream must succeed to reality. There was a moment's silence. When you return to this mundane sphere from your visionary world. "in the French or Turkish style. fox-skins from Norway. I shall go and die in the East. but to dream thus forever. "when I have completed my affairs in Paris. and with those wings I . and so on. "Diable!" he said. it is ready in all ways." replied Franz. and all these skins were strewn in profusion one on the other. truffles. and lift it to his mouth. "How do you take it?" inquired the unknown. and life becomes the dream. and a large divan completely encircled it. and all prepared so that there was no need to smoke the same pipe twice. about as much in quantity as his host had eaten. which is your apartment. and should you wish to see me again. which seems to remove with its fume all the troubles of the mind.

in the midst of the songs of his sailors. several steps. At length the boat touched the shore. the horizon continued to expand. like those of Icarus. Lips of stone turned to flame. which seemed to veil its virgin brow before these marble wantons. transparent.--he saw the Island of Monte Cristo. like a Christian angel in the midst of Olympus. and approached the couch on which he was reposing. but as an oasis in the desert. that they would have made a divine harmony had their notes been taken down. Messalina. It seemed to Franz that he closed his eyes. and he was again in the chamber of statues. when we are still sufficiently conscious to be aware of the coming of slumber. As to Franz a strange transformation had taken place in him. disappeared as they do at the first approach of sleep. as lips touch lips. then. weary of a struggle that taxed his . lighted only by one of those pale and antique lamps which watch in the dead of the night over the sleep of pleasure. and he was held in cool serpent-like embraces. unbounded horizon. those soft visions. as if some Loreley had decreed to attract a soul thither. all the spangles of the sun." He then said something in Arabic to Ali.could make a tour of the world in four and twenty hours. hair flowing like waves. and bright and flowing hair. as burning mouths were pressed to his thirsty lips. Then the three statues advanced towards him with looks of love. in attraction. fear nothing. and in a last look about him saw the vision of modesty completely veiled. He descended. They were Phryne. his perception brightened in a remarkable manner. Cleopatra. all the perfumes of the summer breeze. as his boat drew nearer. and then followed a dream of passion like that promised by the Prophet to the elect. Then among them glided like a pure ray. and if your wings. then all seemed to fade away and become confused before his eyes. unfurl your wings. They were the same statues. so that to Franz. their feet hidden in their long white tunics. smiles of love. or Amphion. with all the blue of the ocean. breasts of ice became like heated lava. but not to any distance. to Ali. like that which may be supposed to reign around the grotto of Circe. and he entered the grotto amidst continued strains of most delicious melody. melt before the sun. those three celebrated courtesans. and assuming attitudes which the gods could not resist. love was a sorrow and voluptuousness a torture. but which saints withstood. intended there to build a city. the enchanter. His body seemed to acquire an airy lightness. but it was not the gloomy horizon of vague alarms. the songs became louder. but without effort. formed from such perfumes as set the mind a dreaming. who made a sign of obedience and withdrew. and fly into superhuman regions. for an enchanting and mysterious harmony rose to heaven. and looks inflexible and ardent like those with which the serpent charms the bird." "Ah. Well. and such fires as burn the very senses. all the preoccupation of mind which the events of the evening had brought on. and which he had seen before he slept. and he saw again all he had seen before his sleep. those calm shadows. and at length. with eyes of fascination. and then he gave way before looks that held him in a torturing grasp and delighted his senses as with a voluptuous kiss. the hashish is beginning its work.--songs so clear and sonorous. The more he strove against this unhallowed passion the more his senses yielded to its thrall. but a blue. without shock. and poesy. their throats bare. his senses seemed to redouble their power. or rather seemed to descend. inhaling the fresh and balmy air. from Sinbad. like the last shadows of the magic lantern before it is extinguished. we are here to ease your fall. yielding for the first time to the sway of the drug. rich in form. All the bodily fatigue of the day. his singular host. the mute attendant. one of those chaste figures. there is a watch over you. yes. then. no longer as a threatening rock in the midst of the waves.

he gave way and sank back breathless and exhausted beneath the kisses of these marble goddesses. so deep was the impression made in his mind by the dream." said Franz." So saying. and listened to the dash of the waves on the beach. recognize your host in the midst of his crew. or undulating in the vessel. and touched stone. specially after a fantastic dream. went towards the opening. and through a kind of fanlight saw a blue sea and an azure sky. he felt a certain degree of lightness. even in the very face of open day. a faculty for absorbing the pure air. When Franz returned to himself. on the shore the sailors were sitting. said. and at ten yards from them the boat was at anchor. Otherwise. his presentation to a smuggler chief. and holding a spy-glass in his hand. very soft and odoriferous. and found himself lying on his bournous in a bed of dry heather. The air and water were shining in the beams of the morning sun. entertained me right royally. He was attired as he had been on the previous evening. and the patron.very soul. they had vanished at his waking." "So. so grand. "this is. that at least a year had elapsed since all these things had passed. he rose to his seat. and as if the statues had been but shadows from the tomb. There for some time he enjoyed the fresh breeze which played on his brow. so calm. He stretched forth his hand. He recalled his arrival on the island. there exists a man who has received me in this island. He was for some time without reflection or thought for the divine charm which is in the things of nature. and a spoonful of hashish. Thus every now and then he saw in fancy amid the sailors. reminded him of the illusiveness of his vision. on the contrary. chatting and laughing. however. and if you will use your glass. he was free from the slightest headache. and enjoying the bright sunshine more vividly than ever. Gaetano. He found that he was in a grotto. one of the shadows which had shared his dream with looks and kisses. He went gayly up to the sailors. a subterranean palace full of splendor. and waved his pocket-handkerchief to his guest in . Franz adjusted his telescope. as very important business calls him to Malaga. undulating gracefully on the water. It seemed. Gaetano was not mistaken. then gradually this view of the outer world. and so strong a hold had it taken of his imagination. and once more awakened memory. Gaetano pointed in a direction in which a small vessel was making sail towards the southern point of Corsica. and his body refreshed. At the stern the mysterious stranger was standing up looking towards the shore. but he trusts you will excuse him. The Waking. and the enchantment of his marvellous dream. who rose as soon as they perceived him. into which a ray of sunlight in pity scarcely penetrated. that left against the rocks a lace of foam as white as silver. all reality. accosting him. and directed it towards the yacht. and desires us to express the regret he feels at not being able to take his leave in person. He advanced several paces towards the point whence the light came. his head was perfectly clear. so pure. He thought himself in a sepulchre. then. and to all the excitement of his dream succeeded the calmness of reality. The vision had fled. you will. "The Signor Sinbad has left his compliments for your excellency. then. and his departed while I was asleep?" "He exists as certainly as that you may see his small yacht with all her sails spread. an excellent supper. in all probability. seated on a rock. he seemed still to be in a dream. Chapter 32.

the yacht only seemed like a small white speck on the horizon. When Franz appeared again on the shore. which rose gracefully as it expanded in the air." said the patron. he began a second. and. Moreover. while it seems he is in the direction of Porto-Vecchio. which he had utterly forgotten. were too much like domestic goats. He took his fowling-piece. "There. The second visit was a long one. "you told me that Signor Sinbad was going to Malaga. if it would amuse you. "In the first place. and two or three times the same fancy has come over me. which were at last utterly useless.token of adieu. do you hear?" observed Gaetano. yes. occupied his mind. "Ah. but even then he could not distinguish anything. he had really been the hero of one of the tales of the "Thousand and One Nights." replied the patron. in vain. 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. after having told Gaetano to roast one of the two kids. "to find the entrance to the enchanted apartment. These animals. But I too have had the idea you have. Franz took the lamp. 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. he is one who fears neither God ." he remarked to Gaetano. in spite of the failure of his first search. unless that. Then. and Franz could not consider them as game. and he is going to land them. as impenetrable as futurity. After a second. Yet he did not leave a foot of this granite wall." he added." Giovanni obeyed. like him. Gaetano reminded him that he had come for the purpose of shooting goats. much more enthralling. "and give it to his excellency. "I told you that among the crew there were two Corsican brigands?" "True. and at the end of a quarter of an hour he had killed a goat and two kids." replied Gaetano." "Ah." and he was irresistibly attracted towards the grotto. Franz returned the salute by shaking his handkerchief as an exchange of signals. Giovanni. light a torch. and I will get you the torch you ask for." The young man took his carbine and fired it in the air. he did not see a fissure without introducing the blade of his hunting sword into it. other ideas. light me a torch. and entered the subterranean grotto. continuing her flight towards Corsica. but without any idea that the noise could be heard at the distance which separated the yacht from the shore. He looked again through his glass. "he is bidding you adieu. With much pleasure. without strict scrutiny. and then Franz heard a slight report." "Don't you remember. followed by Gaetano. "Precisely so. now like a sea-gull on the wave. He saw nothing. rather than enjoying a pleasure. by traces of smoke. others had before him attempted the same thing. At the end of this time he gave up his search. "Why. your excellency. "What are your excellency's orders?" inquired Gaetano. the evening before. Since. though wild and agile as chamois. and began to hunt over the island with the air of a man who is fulfilling a duty. and he saw the little yacht." added Franz. All was vain. Franz was sitting on the spot where he was on the previous evening when his mysterious host had invited him to supper. a slight cloud of smoke was seen at the stern of the vessel. I understand. but I have always given it up. and Gaetano smiled. and he lost two hours in his attempts.

At the moment the boat began her course they lost sight of the yacht. Corpus Christi. "Very good. which was continually increasing and getting more and more turbulent. and they were soon under way. for the moment at least. The rest of the floor was hired by a very rich gentleman who was supposed to be a Sicilian or Maltese. between life and death. excusing himself for having made his excellency wait. hashish. he had no longer any inducement to remain at Monte Cristo. This plan succeeded.--all became a dream for Franz. When Franz had once again set foot on shore. Peter. and so enjoyed exceptional privileges. and at which Franz had already halted five or six times. as it disappeared in the gulf of Porto-Vecchio. All the rest of the year the city is in that state of dull apathy. had the honor of being on excellent terms with the smugglers and bandits along the whole coast of the Mediterranean. when Morcerf himself appeared. With it was effaced the last trace of the preceding night. but a bird. Then he sent his card to Signor Pastrini. and at Rome there are four great events in every year. for the streets were thronged with people. and would at any time run fifty leagues out of his course to do a poor devil a service." replied Gaetano with a laugh. his boat being ready. and then supper. He set out. with the impertinence peculiar to hired hackney-coachmen and inn-keepers with their houses full. his yacht is not a ship. At last he made his way through the mob. and then thought of nothing but how he should rejoin his companion. and if he were to throw himself on the coast." said Franz. in the first place. he forgot. Holy Week. he consequently despatched his breakfast. "but we must have . and at each time found it more marvellous and striking. "And what cares he for that. On his first inquiry he was told." said Franz. and thus he had but to go to Signor Pastrini's hotel. and the Feast of St. who was ready to pounce on the traveller and was about to lead him to Albert. which renders it similar to a kind of station between this world and the next--a sublime spot. and. when the sun rose. The boat sailed on all day and all night. Sinbad. signor Pastrini. and he would beat any frigate three knots in every nine. Let them try to pursue him! Why. and Signor Pastrini himself ran to him. scolding the waiters." "But such services as these might involve him with the authorities of the country in which he practices this kind of philanthropy. they had lost sight of Monte Cristo. An apartment. and next morning. and reached the hotel. as we have said. The apartment consisted of two small rooms and a parlor. He had lost all hope of detecting the secret of the grotto. statues.--the Carnival. and on the Saturday evening reached the Eternal City by the mail-coach. while he finished his affairs of pleasure at Florence. The two rooms looked onto the street--a fact which Signor Pastrini commented upon as an inappreciable advantage. As to Franz.nor Satan. Franz's host. taking the candlestick from the porter. who was awaiting him at Rome. "or any authorities? He smiles at them. and asked for Albert de Morcerf. a resting-place full of poetry and character. the events which had just passed. that there was no room for him at the Hotel de Londres. they say. had been retained beforehand. and Rome was already a prey to that low and feverish murmur which precedes all great events. But this was not so easy a matter. but the host was unable to decide to which of the two nations the traveller belonged. is he not certain of finding friends everywhere?" It was perfectly clear that the Signor Sinbad. why. he hastened on board.

let us sup. "we will do all in our power to procure you one--this is all I can say. "you shall be served immediately." replied the host." "I am afraid if we offer them double that we shall not procure a carriage. that's all. they will come in due season. the deuce! then we shall pay the more. and there's an end of it. and there are none left but those absolutely requisite for posting. Signor Pastrini. it is only a question of how much shall be charged for them. but that's no matter. no joking. went to bed. and dreamed he was racing all over Rome at Carnival time in a coach with six horses." "As to supper." Albert looked at Franz like a man who hears a reply he does not understand." "There are no horses. "To-morrow morning. Is supper ready. "Come." "Then they must put horses to mine. "Do you understand that." "What are we to say to this?" asked Franz. I am accustomed not to dwell on that thing. "Oh. add five lire a day more for extras. my dear boy. Roman Bandits. then. Signor Pastrini?" "Yes." Morcerf then. but to pass to another. we must have a carriage. that will make forty. and thirty or thirty-five lire a day more for Sundays and feast days. "Be easy. my dear Franz--no horses?" he said." "But the carriage and horses?" said Franz.some supper instantly. that when a thing completely surpasses my comprehension. Chapter 33. ." "And when shall we know?" inquired Franz. come. At Drake's or Aaron's one pays twenty-five lire for common days. and a carriage for tomorrow and the following days. "I say. but as for the carriage"-"What as to the carriage?" exclaimed Albert. slept soundly. your excellency. It is a little worse for the journey." answered the inn-keeper." "Sir. with that delighted philosophy which believes that nothing is impossible to a full purse or well-lined pocketbook. I see plainly enough." "Well." replied the landlord. "but can't we have post-horses?" "They have been all hired this fortnight. supped.

"to-day is Thursday." said Albert. the devil." said the landlord triumphantly. "which will make it still more difficult. "do you think we are going to run about on foot in the streets of Rome. and instantly rang the bell." "Do your excellencies still wish for a carriage from now to Sunday morning?" "Parbleu!" said Albert. like lawyer's clerks?" . who was desirous of of the Christian world in the carriages to be had from Sunday Sunday you can have fifty if you "Ah. there we are sure of obtaining gondolas if we cannot have carriages." "That is to say." replied Franz. "you have guessed it. and I will." The two young men looked at each other with an air of stupefaction. that you were too late--there is not a single carriage to be had--that is. "I feared yesterday." "Well. and we shall have complete success." cried Albert." Pastrini. a window!" exclaimed Signor Pastrini. "let us enjoy the present without gloomy forebodings for the future. entering. and who knows what may arrive between this and Sunday?" "Ten or twelve thousand travellers will arrive. "that there are no to Tuesday evening." "Ah. "Well." "Yes. "for the very three days it is most needed. though I see it on stilts." "My friend. We will disguise ourselves as monster pulchinellos or shepherds of the Landes. "no carriage to be had?" "Just so. for the last three days of the carnival." "Bravo! an excellent idea." returned Franz. excellency. that is something. no. your Eternal City is a nice sort of place. The sound had not yet died away when Signor Pastrini himself entered. but from now till please." returned Franz." "Ah. excellency." said Franz to Albert. "I came to Rome to see the Carnival." said Morcerf.The next morning Franz woke first." "What is the matter?" said Albert." "At least we can have a window?" "Where?" "In the Corso. and that has been let to a Russian prince for twenty sequins a day. and without waiting for Franz to question him." replied keeping up the dignity of the capital eyes of his guest. "do you know what is the best thing we can do? It is to pass the Carnival at Venice.--"utterly impossible. "Well. there was only one left on the fifth floor of the Doria Palace. when I would not promise you anything.

his first impulse was to look round him. and. he will take a less price than the one I offer you." said Franz." returned Signor Pastrini. But Albert did not know that it takes a day to see Saint Peter's. in the hope of making more out of me." The genius for laudation characteristic of the race was in that phrase. They returned to the hotel. the young men would have thought themselves happy to have secured it for the last three days of the Carnival. "To Saint Peter's first." and the Hotel de Londres was the "palace. at the door Franz ordered the coachman to be ready at eight. who has plundered me pretty well already. the Temple of . but. When we show a friend a city one has already visited. still striving to gain his point. and the day after. skirt the outer wall. who is mine also. excellency"--said Pastrini. and I hope you will be satisfied. as I am not a millionaire. The day was passed at Saint Peter's alone." "Do not give yourselves the trouble. and that will be your fault. Suddenly the daylight began to fade away. with the smile peculiar to the Italian speculator when he confesses defeat." "And now we understand each other. thus they would behold the Colosseum without finding their impressions dulled by first looking on the Capitol. and then you will make a good profit. only. He was to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo. the Forum. He wished to show Albert the Colosseum by moonlight." "But."I hasten to comply with your excellencies' wishes. their excellencies stretched their legs along the seats. "Where do your excellencies wish to go?" asked he. I tell you beforehand." "When do you wish the carriage to be here?" "In an hour. and re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni. "Now go. "shall I bring the carriage nearer to the palace?" Accustomed as Franz was to the Italian phraseology. Franz and Albert descended. like the gentleman in the next apartments. he is an old friend of mine." returned Albert. and a month to study it. but these words were addressed to him. the carriage will cost you six piastres a day. "I warn you." An hour after the vehicle was at the door. that as I have been four times before at Rome. Franz took out his watch--it was half-past four. "Excellency. it was a hack conveyance which was elevated to the rank of a private carriage in honor of the occasion. Franz was the "excellency." the vehicle was the "carriage." cried the cicerone. we feel the same pride as when we point out a woman whose lover we have been. you will lose the preference. in spite of its humble exterior. the carriage approached the palace. seeing Franz approach the window." "And. excellency. I know the prices of all the carriages." "In an hour it will be at the door. the Arch of Septimus Severus. "or I shall go myself and bargain with your affettatore." returned Franz. tomorrow. "I will do all I can. we will give you twelve piastres for to-day. the cicerone sprang into the seat behind. and then to the Colosseum. as he had shown him Saint Peter's by daylight.

it was evident that he was musing over this answer.Antoninus and Faustina." "But. and the Via Sacra. to drive round the walls. and began accordingly. but I can assure you he is quite unknown at Paris.--when anything cannot be done. and it is done directly. "No. I do not understand why they travel. "But. but it was not for that I came. lighting his cigar. at Rome things can or cannot be done. "he may be very famous at Rome. ever do travel. "for that reason." said Pastrini. in his turn interrupting his host's meditations." returned Signor Pastrini. but at the first words he was interrupted. They sat down to dinner." "Well. when you are told anything cannot be done. "you had some motive for coming here." "Did you come to tell us you have procured a carriage?" asked Albert. "Excellency. to say the least. and the Cafe de Paris. Men in their senses do not quit their hotel in the Rue du Helder. and dined frequently at the only restaurant where you can really dine. Franz thought that he came to hear his dinner praised. which did not seem very clear. appeared every day on the fashionable walk." "Pray. "only madmen. Signor Pastrini had promised them a banquet. who may this famous Luigi Vampa be?" inquired Albert. or blockheads like us. somewhat piqued. and re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni?" "These are my words exactly." "Impossible!" "Very dangerous. Signor Pastrini remained silent a short time." "Dangerous!--and why?" "On account of the famous Luigi Vampa. if you are on good terms with its frequenters. yes. you have ordered your carriage at eight o'clock precisely?" "I have. that is. this route is impossible." "That is what all the French say." "You mean the Colosseum?" "It is the same thing." . you pay double. At the end of the dinner he entered in person. emitting a volume of smoke and balancing his chair on its hind legs. "I am delighted to have your approbation. there is an end of it. You have told your coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo." said Albert. he gave them a tolerable repast. and your excellencies will do well not to think of that any longer." said Franz. may I beg to know what it was?" "Ah." It is of course understood that Albert resided in the aforesaid street." "You intend visiting Il Colosseo. their walk on the Boulevard de Gand." "It is much more convenient at Paris.

" returned Signor Pastrini." "But if your excellency doubt my veracity"-"Signor Pastrini. we must do him justice. having told you this. "Excellency. but to your companion. and tell us all about this Signor Vampa. "that you will go out by one. Signor Pastrini. Come. and double-barrelled guns. hurt at Albert's repeated doubts of the truth of his assertions. who knows Rome. "I do not say this to you. and knows. go on. addressing Franz." "Once upon a time"-"Well. turning to Franz." "Well. "here is a bandit for you at last. we will fill our carriage with pistols. it is useless for me to say anything. then. Signor Pastrini. "if you look upon me as a liar. it was for your interest!"-"Albert does not say you are a liar.--he had had a great many Frenchmen in his house." said Franz. and we take him--we . what has this bandit to do with the order I have given the coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo." "Why?" asked Franz." "Well. blunderbusses. "you are more susceptible than Cassandra.--but I will believe all you say." returned Franz. who seemed to him the more reasonable of the two." "I had told your excellency he is the most famous bandit we have had since the days of Mastrilla. compared to whom the Decesaris and the Gasparones were mere children. are sure of the credence of half your audience." "You have never heard his name?" "Never."What! do you not know him?" "I have not that honor. he is a bandit. after nightfall." replied Signor Pastrini. "but that he will not believe what you are going to tell us. "Because. sit down." said Albert. that these things are not to be laughed at. Luigi Vampa comes to take us." "I forewarn you." "Now then. but I very much doubt your returning by the other." "My dear fellow. who was a prophetess." Signor Pastrini turned toward Franz. "Count. that I shall not believe one word of what you are going to tell us. so proceed. while you." said he gravely. Albert." cried Franz. you are not safe fifty yards from the gates. but had never been able to comprehend them. too." "On your honor is that true?" cried Albert. and yet no one believed her. "here is an admirable adventure. and to re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni?" "This. at least. begin.

" "My dear Albert. "not make any resistance!" "No. but made me a present of a very splendid watch. whose courage revolted at the idea of being plundered tamely. ruin. for he only answered half the question. and it would be ridiculous to risk our lives for so foolish a motive." Doubtless Signor Pastrini found this pleasantry compromising. like Curtius and the veiled Horatius. but. and worthy the 'Let him die. recollected me. "And pray. "Your excellency knows that it is not customary to defend yourself when attacked by bandits." said Albert. the preservers of their country.' of Corneille. if we meet him by chance. for I knew him when he was a child. in order that. parbleu!--they should kill me." "What!" cried Albert. and present him to his holiness the Pope. and proclaim us. "Your friend is decidedly mad. like Bugaboo John or Lara. of Parisian manufacture. and set me free. and then he spoke to Franz. tell me who is this Luigi Vampa." "I shared the same fate at Aquapendente. only. and related his history to me. and a count's coronet. Signor Pastrini. he." The inn-keeper turned to Franz with an air that seemed to say." said Albert. Is he a shepherd or a nobleman?--young or old?--tall or short? Describe him." Whilst Albert proposed this scheme. "where are these pistols. Signor Pastrini drew from his fob a magnificent Breguet. and other deadly weapons with which you intend filling the carriage?" "Not out of my armory. and you have seen how peaceful my intentions are." "Let us see the watch." said Franz. "that this practice is very convenient for bandits. and level their pieces at you?" "Eh. muttering some unintelligible words. "your answer is sublime. who asks how he can repay so great a service. for it would be useless. it is only to gratify a whim. or aqueduct. fortunately for me." "Do you know. and one day that I fell into his hands." "You could not apply to any one better able to inform you on all these points. . as for us. then we merely ask for a carriage and a pair of horses. which he sipped at intervals." asked Franz.bring him back to Rome. "now that my companion is quieted. blunderbusses. when Horace made that answer. and doubtless the Roman people will crown us at the Capitol. Signor Pastrini. "Well. not only without ransom. lighting a second cigar at the first." returned Franz. bearing the name of its maker. and we see the Carnival in the carriage. going from Ferentino to Alatri. the safety of Rome was concerned. as the only one likely to listen with attention. for at Terracina I was plundered even of my hunting-knife. What could you do against a dozen bandits who spring out of some pit." Albert poured himself out a glass of lacryma Christi. we may recognize him. and that it seems to be due to an arrangement of their own. Signor Pastrini's face assumed an expression impossible to describe.

"Here it is. he was born at Pampinara. "that you knew Luigi Vampa when he was a child--he is still a young man. "Your excellencies permit it?" asked the host. and that he must profit as much as possible by it." said Franz. "Thanks for the comparison. At the end of . motioning Signor Pastrini to seat himself. "the hero of this history is only two and twenty?" "Scarcely so much. smiling at his friend's susceptibility. "You tell me. Every day Luigi led his flock to graze on the road that leads from Palestrina to Borgo." "Is he tall or short?" "Of the middle height--about the same stature as his excellency. and at his age. then?" "A young man? he is only two and twenty. when he was seven years old. When quite a child. but the good curate went every day to say mass at a little hamlet too poor to pay a priest and which. he told Luigi that he might meet him on his return. "you are not a preacher. Caesar. Alexander. and asked to be taught to read. he came to the curate of Palestrina." "Let us hear the history. warning him that it would be short. were quite behind him. it was somewhat difficult. which meant that he was ready to tell them all they wished to know concerning Luigi Vampa. pointing to Albert. Albert?--at two and twenty to be thus famous?" "Yes." said Franz. which he sold at Rome. who owned a small flock." said he. "To what class of society does he belong?" "He was a shepherd-boy attached to the farm of the Count of San-Felice. after having made each of them a respectful bow." "So. and entered the count's service when he was five years old.--he will gain himself a reputation. having no other name. "Pardieu!" cried Albert. for he could not quit his flock. every day. "Peste. to remain standing!" The host sat down." returned Albert. his father was also a shepherd. The child accepted joyfully. who have all made some noise in the world. Signor Pastrini. One day. and the little shepherd took his lesson out of the priest's breviary. "Go on." returned the host. the priest and the boy sat down on a bank by the wayside. "I compliment you on it. at nine o'clock in the morning. and lived by the wool and the milk. the little Vampa displayed a most extraordinary precocity." continued Franz.000 francs. I have its fellow"--he took his watch from his waistcoat pocket--"and it cost me 3." said Albert. at the moment Signor Pastrini was about to open his mouth. situated between Palestrina and the lake of Gabri. with a bow." "What do you think of that. and Napoleon." continued Franz. and that then he would give him a lesson. was called Borgo.

in the evening they separated the Count of San-Felice's flock from those of Baron Cervetri. a gesture. passing all their time with each other. Vampa saw himself the captain of a vessel. this was what Vampa longed for. the famous sculptor. who sent for the little shepherd. and prowl around his flock. in all their dreams. born at Valmontone and was named Teresa. Teresa alone ruled by a look. and the children returned to their respective farms. houses. Palestrina. superbly attired. made at Breschia. one middling. heated and sharpened it. and attended by a train of liveried domestics. he began to carve all sorts of objects in wood. ordered his attendant to let him eat with the domestics. but one day the count broke the stock. made him read and write before him. at the end of a week he wrote as well with this pen as with the stylus. And yet their natural disposition revealed itself. and thus they grew up together. a little younger than Vampa--tended sheep on a farm near Palestrina. and their conversations. or governor of a province. general of an army. This gun had an excellent barrel. At the end of three months he had learned to write. and giving themselves up to the wild ideas of their different characters. and one small. With this. Teresa was the most beautiful and the best-attired peasant near Rome. or Valmontone had been able to gain any influence over him or even to become his companion. and Teresa eleven. he was given to alternating fits of sadness and enthusiasm. they separated their flocks. like Giotto. Teresa was lively and gay. The next day they kept their word. which yielded beneath the hand of a woman. she was an orphan. Luigi purchased books and pencils. The next morning he gathered an armful of pieces of slate and began. paper. So that. and gold hairpins. The steward gave him a gun. His disposition (always inclined to exact concessions rather than to make them) kept him aloof from all friendships. but nothing compared to the first. their wishes. Beside his taste for the fine arts. . This was not enough--he must now learn to write. This demanded new effort. The same evening. Thus. The curate. when the flock was safe at the farm. The two children grew up together. and. but could never have been bended. and a penknife. were expended in ear-rings. The two children met. and pointed out to him that by the help of a sharp instrument he could trace the letters on a slate. had commenced. "One day the young shepherd told the count's steward that he had seen a wolf come out of the Sabine mountains. but coquettish to excess. promising to meet the next morning. The curate related the incident to the Count of San-Felice. and which beneath the hand of a man might have broken. when they had thus passed the day in building castles in the air. The priest had a writing teacher at Rome make three alphabets--one large. and thus learn to write. and formed a sort of stylus. he drew on his slate sheep. and always sarcastic. this impetuous character. let their flocks mingle together. "A girl of six or seven--that is. Then. astonished at his quickness and intelligence. necklaces. and to give him two piastres a month. He applied his imitative powers to everything. Then. with his knife. took a large nail. thanks to her friend's generosity. when young. the little Luigi hastened to the smith at Palestrina. and trees. laughed. None of the lads of Pampinara. played. sat down near each other. and conversed together. Vampa was twelve. was often angry and capricious. which Luigi had carried as far as he could in his solitude.three months he had learned to read. and descended from the elevation of their dreams to the reality of their humble position. and carrying a ball with the precision of an English rifle. The two piastres that Luigi received every month from the Count of San-Felice's steward. and the price of all the little carvings in wood he sold at Rome. it was thus that Pinelli. Teresa saw herself rich. made him a present of pens. a word.

Vampa took the dead animal on his shoulders. and she is abandoned to their brutality until death relieves her sufferings. And yet the two young people had never declared their affection. One day he carried off a young girl. He strove to collect a band of followers. He was spoken of as the most adroit. the most extraordinary traits of ferocious daring and brutality were related of him. The bandit's laws are positive. a young girl belongs first to him who carries her off. the first desire of a manly heart is to possess a weapon. the strongest. but the wolf had scarcely advanced ten yards ere he was dead. The brigands have never been really extirpated from the neighborhood of Rome. Many young men of Palestrina. But nothing could be farther from his thoughts. whose branches intertwined.and had then cast the gun aside. and Pampinara had disappeared. and the most courageous contadino for ten leagues around. Proud of this exploit. a messenger is sent to negotiate. by rendering its owner terrible. that grew on the Sabine mountains. When their parents are sufficiently rich to pay a ransom. but it was soon known that they had joined Cucumetto. Only their wish to see each other had become a necessity. and everything served him for a mark--the trunk of some old and moss-grown olivetree. The man of superior abilities always finds admirers. Their disappearance at first caused much disquietude. whom he hoped to surpass. like Manfred. the fox. his name was Carlini. and had taken refuge on the banks of the Amasine between Sonnino and Juperno. had he chosen to sell it. Sometimes a chief is wanted. but when a chief presents himself he rarely has to wait long for a band of followers. but Carlini felt his heart sink. had crossed the Garigliano. For a long time a gun had been the young man's greatest ambition. and although Teresa was universally allowed to be the most beautiful girl of the Sabines. Teresa was sixteen. After some time Cucumetto became the object of universal attention. and whose intermingled perfume rises to the heavens. should the ransom be refused. pursued in the Abruzzo. so beautifully carved that it would have fetched fifteen or twenty piastres. and Vampa seventeen. This. and they would have preferred death to a day's separation. the prisoner is hostage for the security of the messenger. go where he will. which at once renders him capable of defence or attack. that Teresa overcame the terror she at first felt at the report. the daughter of a surveyor of Frosinone. the poor girl extended her arms to him. About this time. and followed the footsteps of Decesaris and Gasperone. however. was nothing to a sculptor like Vampa. for he but too . Frascati. and. no one had ever spoken to her of love. driven out of the kingdom of Naples. When she recognized her lover. often makes him feared. because it was known that she was beloved by Vampa. and carried him to the farm. they had grown together like two trees whose roots are mingled. and amused herself by watching him direct the ball wherever he pleased. with as much accuracy as if he placed it by hand. where he had carried on a regular war. 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. The young girl's lover was in Cucumetto's troop. then the rest draw lots for her. In every country where independence has taken the place of liberty. and made a fresh stock. the prisoner is irrevocably lost. as he quitted his earth on some marauding excursion. he examined the broken stock. From this moment Vampa devoted all his leisure time to perfecting himself in the use of his precious weapon. he purchased powder and ball. "The celebrated Cucumetto. calculated what change it would require to adapt the gun to his shoulder. "One evening a wolf emerged from a pine-wood hear which they were usually stationed. and believed herself safe. the eagle that soared above their heads: and thus he soon became so expert.

and bade him find a shepherd to send to Rita's father at Frosinone.' At this moment Carlini heard a woman's cry. The moon lighted the group. seated at the foot of a huge pine that stood in the centre of the forest. Carlini seized it. Twelve hours' delay was all that was granted--that is. they had met in some neighboring ruins. 'At nine o'clock to-morrow Rita's father will be here with the money. broke it across the face of him who presented it. and does credit to your taste. their promises of mutual fidelity. to inform him what had occurred. He repeated his question. as her father was rich. The natural messengers of the bandits are the shepherds who live between the city and the mountains. to abandon her to the common law?' said Carlini.well knew the fate that awaited her. this young girl is charming. which had grasped one of the pistols in his belt. and hastened to the plain to find a messenger. The instant the letter was written. and was answered by a burst of laughter. and bidding her write to her father. and his hair stood on end. After a hundred yards he turned the corner of the thicket.' returned Carlini. we will return to our comrades and draw lots for her. so that he had been unable to go to the place of meeting. he divined the truth. He inquired where they were. Cucumetto seemed to yield to his friend's entreaties. his hand.'--'You have determined. a pistol in each hand. Cucumetto had been there. any more than the rest. until nine the next morning. A cold perspiration burst from every pore. He found the troop in the glade. Rita lay between them. saying. between civilized and savage life. and as he had saved his life by shooting a dragoon who was about to cut him down. and could pay a large ransom. "'Why should an exception be made in her favor?' "'I thought that my entreaties'-"'What right have you. fell to his side. while the young girl. There he told the chief all--his affection for the prisoner. to ask for an . and rushed towards the spot whence the cry came. telling her she was saved. Carlini flew joyfully to Rita. but his eye vainly sought Rita and Cucumetto among them. and had carried the maiden off. the other with the pallor of death on his brow. The boy undertook the commission. as he said. A terrible battle between the two men seemed imminent. At the sight of Carlini. we will have a merry night. "'Well. made a veil of her picturesque head-dress to hide her face from the lascivious gaze of the bandits. and announce the joyful intelligence. since he had been near. "It so happened that night that Cucumetto had sent Carlini to a village. Cucumetto rose. as he had for three years faithfully served him.'--'It is well. promising to be in Frosinone in less than an hour. and how every night. then. by accident. One of the bandits rose. He took Cucumetto one side. but by degrees Carlini's features relaxed. Carlini besought his chief to make an exception in Rita's favor. supping off the provisions exacted as contributions from the peasants. The two brigands looked at each other for a moment--the one with a smile of lasciviousness on his lips. anxious to see his mistress. captain. he hoped the chief would have pity on him. he found Rita senseless in the arms of Cucumetto. and offered him a glass filled with Orvietto. However. in the meantime. He found a young shepherd watching his flock. Now. as I am not egotistical. Carlini returned. as he was a favorite with Cucumetto. however. 'have you executed your commission?' "'Yes. 'To the health of the brave Cucumetto and the fair Rita.' said Cucumetto. and that her ransom was fixed at three hundred piastres. seized the glass.

and approaching the corpse. Cucumetto placed his sentinels for the night.--'Your health. the unearthly pallor of the young girl and of Diavolaccio. without his hand trembling in the least. 'are you coming?'--'I follow you. The bandits looked on with astonishment at this singular conduct until they heard footsteps. "Their demand was fair. Diavolaccio advanced amidst the most profound silence. 'Now. and to whom Carlini replied by breaking the glass across his face. he took a glass in one hand and a flask in the other. and he drank it off.' cried Carlini. three hundred piastres distributed among the band was so small a sum that he cared little about it. while Diavolaccio disappeared.' Every one expected an explosion on Carlini's part. 'that is acting like a good fellow. and as for the money. 'my expedition has given me an appetite. "'Now. They turned round. and saw Diavolaccio bearing the young girl in his arms. Diovalaccio. and lay down before the fire. Carlini ate and drank as if nothing had happened.' said the chief. then. was bleeding profusely. 'My supper. the ticket bore the name of Diovolaccio. and the red light of the fire made them look like demons.'--'Well done.' Carlini raised her in his arms.' said he. Then sitting down by the fire.' continued Cucumetto. but. Carlini!' cried the brigands. A knife was plunged up to the hilt in Rita's left breast. and ate and drank calmly. 'Captain. for. to his great surprise. when they saw the chief. who was still insensible. near Rita. and filling it. advancing towards the other bandits. burst into a loud laugh. Cucumetto fancied for a moment the young man was about to take her in his arms and fly. have done the same. rising in his turn. and the chief inclined his head in sign of acquiescence. that every one rose. propose mine to him. extending from the temple to the mouth. 'I now understand why Carlini stayed behind. without losing sight of Carlini. 'sooner or later your turn will come. and let us see if he will be more condescending to you than to me.' said he. Diavolaccio. and her long hair swept the ground. 'Ah. but they all understood what Carlini had done.' and they all formed a circle round the fire. laughing. 'Let us draw lots! let us draw lots!' cried all the brigands. but this mattered little to him now Rita had been his. 'does any one dispute the possession of this woman with me?'--'No. the sheath at his belt was empty.' said he calmly. The eyes of all shone fiercely as they made their demand. including Carlini.' Carlini's teeth clinched convulsively. were placed in a hat. He continued to follow the path to the glade. ah. perhaps. with the exception of Carlini. Her head hung back. the bandits could perceive. No other of the bandits would. He was the man who had proposed to Carlini the health of their chief. This apparition was so strange and so solemn. 'just now Carlini would not drink your health when I proposed it to him. and the bandits wrapped themselves in their cloaks. but to their great surprise. who remained seated. Every one looked at Carlini.exception?'--'It is true. He was standing. and laid Rita at the captain's feet. doubtless. then. A large wound.' "Cucumetto departed. As they entered the circle. his hand on the butt of one of his pistols. and carried her out of the circle of firelight.'--'But never mind. 'she is thine. and the youngest of the band drew forth a ticket. seeing himself thus favored by fortune. he feared lest he should strike him unawares. his arms folded. but nothing betrayed a hostile design on Carlini's part.' All savage natures appreciate a desperate deed. Then every one could understand the cause of the unearthly pallor in the young girl and the bandit. by the firelight. The names of all.' said Cucumetto. Carlini arrived almost as soon as himself. At midnight .' returned the chief.

'aid me to bury my child. Carlini was killed. to Cucumetto. He then took an oath of bitter vengeance over the dead body of the one and the tomb of the other.--'Wretch!' returned the old man. These were the first tears the man of blood had ever wept. and now leave me alone. and then the lover. avenge her.' and he returned to his companions. A ray of moonlight poured through the trees. he should have received a ball between his shoulders. When the grave was formed.' continued Carlini.--'Thou hast done well!' returned the old man in a hoarse voice. into the arms of his mistress's father. he held it out to the old man with one hand.' said he. Then.' Carlini threw himself. It had been resolved the night before to change their encampment. while with the other he tore open his vest. Then they knelt on each side of the grave. her head resting on the knees of a man.' Carlini fetched two pickaxes. when they had finished. But he was unable to complete this oath. Carlini raised his head.' said the old man. that. like a wise man. without knowing what had become of Rita's father.'--'Yet'--replied Carlini. But the chief. folded himself in his cloak. the woman's face became visible. they placed her in the grave. 'Now. they cast the earth over the corpse. give me back my child. sobbing like a child. 'I thank you. without taking the money. pale and bloody. Cucumetto aroused his men. anticipated it. The old man recognized his child. and the forms of two persons became visible to the old man's eyes. therefore I slew her. 'embrace me. as he raised his head. beneath which the young girl was to repose. He found the old man suspended from one of the branches of the oak which shaded his daughter's grave. . he will tell thee what has become of her.' said the bandit to Rita's father. The old man obeyed. a knife buried in her bosom. and heard this oath of vengeance. and soon appeared to sleep as soundly as the rest.' and withdrawing the knife from the wound in Rita's bosom. however. from Fondi to Perusia. my son.' said he.the sentinel gave the alarm. 'Here. and said the prayers of the dead. every one trembles at the name of Cucumetto. until the grave was filled. He went toward the place where he had left him. the other the feet. There was some surprise.' Carlini obeyed. 'here are three hundred piastres. "'There. and. and in an instant all were on the alert. They told ten other stories of this bandit chief. and grew pale as death. On the morning of the departure from the forest of Frosinone he had followed Carlini in the darkness. extending his hand. one taking the head. 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. made a sign to him to follow.--'Leave me. A woman lay on the ground. as he was with his face to the enemy. who brought his daughter's ransom in person. An hour before daybreak. in an encounter with the Roman carbineers. Then. They both advanced beneath the trees. rejoined his comrades. 'I loved her. I command you. As he approached. the old man said. through whose branches streamed the moonlight. It was Rita's father. he felt that some great and unforeseen misfortune hung over his head.--'Cucumetto had violated thy daughter. for two days afterwards. and the father and the lover began to dig at the foot of a huge oak. and gave the word to march. and lighted up the face of the dead. and Carlini recognized the old man. afterwards. the meaning of which he could not comprehend. for she would have served as the sport of the whole band. 'I expected thee. But Carlini would not quit the forest. my son. who was seated by her. each more singular than the other. 'if I have done wrongly. Thus. At length he advanced toward the group. the father kissed her first. 'what hast thou done?' and he gazed with terror on Rita. and pointed to two persons grouped at the foot of a tree.' The old man spoke not. 'Now. Cucumetto stopped at last. 'demand thy child of Carlini. The old man remained motionless.' said the bandit.

The Count of San-Felice announced a grand masked ball. The ball was given by the Count for the particular pleasure of his daughter . but Vampa reassured her with a smile. three of them appeared to be looking for the fugitive. hastened to the stone that closed up the entrance to their grotto. in a retreat unknown to every one. The three carbineers looked about carefully on every side. They had seen no one. Five hundred Roman crowns are three thousand lire. which he offered to them.' The two young persons exchanged looks. then. for the man we are looking for is the chief. and they neither saw nor heard of Cucumetto. and he drew from his pocket a purse full of gold. and if that did not restore her courage. Several days elapsed. The young girl trembled very much at hearing the stories.' "Then the carbineers scoured the country in different directions. This was granted. 'but we have not seen him. after a time. Time passed on. they heard two or three reports of firearms. Instantly afterwards four carbineers. began to question them. and this look from Teresa showed to him that she was a worthy daughter of Eve. 'That is very annoying. "'Yes. 'I am pursued. touched the trigger. and had only their employers' leave to ask. he exclaimed. Teresa had a great desire to see this ball. tapping the butt of his good fowling-piece. perched on some dead branch. "Cucumetto was a cunning fiend. he pointed to a crow. and galloping up.' said the brigadier. while the fourth dragged a brigand prisoner by the neck. 'and as his head is valued at a thousand Roman crowns. there would have been five hundred for you. the steward. They were both orphans. which threw its ball so well.' said Vampa. it is very annoying. as to Teresa. drew it away. took aim. Vampa. But Vampa raised his head proudly. appeared on the edge of the wood. and Cucumetto came out. can you conceal me?' They knew full well that this fugitive must be a bandit. without saying a word. and the two young people had agreed to be married when Vampa should be twenty and Teresa nineteen years of age. her eyes sparkled when she thought of all the fine gowns and gay jewellery she could buy with this purse of gold. made a sign to the fugitive to take refuge there. Through the crevices in the granite he had seen the two young peasants talking with the carbineers. When he came within hearing. Luigi asked permission of his protector. One day when they were talking over their plans for the future. but there is an innate sympathy between the Roman brigand and the Roman peasant and the latter is always ready to aid the former. and then suddenly a man came out of the wood. The brigadier had a moment's hope.' replied the brigadier. near which the two young persons used to graze their flocks. closed the stone upon him.'--'Cucumetto?' cried Luigi and Teresa at the same moment. "'Yes. they disappeared. if you had helped us to catch him. that she and he might be present amongst the servants of the house. under the pretext of saluting his protectors. to which all that were distinguished in Rome were invited. and three thousand lire are a fortune for two poor orphans who are going to be married. and had assumed the form of a brigand instead of a serpent. but in vain."These narratives were frequently the theme of conversation between Luigi and Teresa. and then went and resumed his seat by Teresa. and guessed the subject of their parley. He had read in the countenances of Luigi and Teresa their steadfast resolution not to surrender him. pausing several times on his way. on horseback. which had been already sought and obtained. saw the young peasants. and hurried towards them. The time of the Carnival was at hand. and the bird fell dead at the foot of the tree. Vampa then removed the stone. and he returned to the forest.

with the servants and peasants. formed quadrilles. but thousands of colored lanterns were suspended from the trees in the garden. and tables spread with refreshments. the cashmere waist-girdles. and then thrilled through his whole body. were brilliant with gold and jewels. He followed with his eye each movement of Teresa and her cavalier. and gayest glass beads. her bodice and skirt were of cashmere. and the reflection of sapphires and diamonds almost turned her giddy brain. and then went to Teresa. and invited her to dance in a quadrille directed by the count's daughter.' replied the count. They both mingled. and the buttons of her corset were of jewels. Her cap was embroidered with pearls. and Sora. and saying a few words to him. Velletri. The young man looked. Two of her companions were dressed. or those of her companions. whom he adored. but not one of the guests had a costume similar to her own. "Carmela wished to form a quadrille.Carmela. Civita-Castellana. and the other as a woman of La Riccia. the exact and strict costume of Teresa had a very different character from that of Carmela and her companions. her girdle was of Turkey silk. in the eyes of an artist. the guests stopped. Carmela was attired like a woman of Sonnino. They were attired as peasants of Albano. who was hanging on Luigi's arm in a group of peasants. although Teresa listened timidly and with downcast eyes to the conversation of her cavalier. When they spoke. On the evening of the ball Teresa was attired in her best. pointed with her finger to Teresa. and with the other convulsively grasped . like those of the young women. took her appointed place with much agitation in the aristocratic quadrille. father?' said Carmela. she looked at Luigi. Carmela was precisely the age and figure of Teresa. Then fearing that his paroxysm might get the better of him. bowed in obedience. all dazzled her. Luigi slowly relinquished Teresa's arm. 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. "Luigi felt a sensation hitherto unknown arising in his mind. and all the voices of hell were whispering in his ears ideas of murder and assassination. and thus the embroidery and muslins. but there was one lady wanting.--she was in the costume of the women of Frascati. he clutched with one hand the branch of a tree against which he was leaning. and very soon the palace overflowed to the terraces. 'Will you allow me.--'Certainly. It was like an acute pain which gnawed at his heart. which he had held beneath his own. and danced in any part of the grounds they pleased. every pulse beat with violence. and the terraces to the garden-walks. not only was the villa brilliantly illuminated. At each cross-path was an orchestra. and Teresa was as handsome as Carmela. with large embroidered flowers. the pins in her hair were of gold and diamonds. who could not refuse his assent. "The festa was magnificent. The Count of San-Felice pointed out Teresa. as Luigi could read in the ardent looks of the good-looking young man that his language was that of praise. 'are we not in Carnival time?'--Carmela turned towards the young man who was talking with her. and Teresa. it seemed as if the whole world was turning round with him. accompanied by her elegant cavalier. Certainly. when their hands touched. Carmela looked all around her. he felt as though he should swoon. her most brilliant ornaments in her hair. the one as a woman of Nettuno. her apron of Indian muslin. We need hardly add that these peasant costumes. and Teresa was frivolous and coquettish. Luigi wore the very picturesque garb of the Roman peasant at holiday time. as they had leave to do. Teresa felt a flush pass over her face. and it seemed as though a bell were ringing in his ears.

he said. Why. 'that I would give half my life for a costume such as she wore. The truth was. half by persuasion and half by force.' replied the young girl. Teresa might escape him. raised her head to look at him. but yet she did not the less feel that these reproaches were merited. he took Teresa quite away. "The young peasant girl. Teresa had yielded in spite of herself. influenced by her ambitions and coquettish disposition. She had almost all the honors of the quadrille. to Teresa's great astonishment.-"'Teresa. due. that she acceded. and it was evident there was a great demand for a repetition. We have said that Teresa was handsome. and attempted . it was almost tremblingly that she resumed her lover's arm. unwittingly. Carmela alone objecting to it. and each time she saw that he was pale and that his features were agitated. what were you thinking of as you danced opposite the young Countess of San-Felice?'--'I thought. and without having done anything wrong. no doubt. he drew from the scabbard from time to time. and where Luigi awaited her. The Villa of San-Felice took fire in the rooms adjoining the very apartment of the lovely Carmela. wrapped herself in a dressing-gown. but the Count of San-Felice besought his daughter so earnestly. once even the blade of his knife. Teresa followed him with her eyes into the darkness as long as she could. and as he left her at her home. The quadrille had been most perfect. he had removed Teresa toward another part of the garden. 'Do you desire it as ardently as you say?'--'Yes. without whom it was impossible for the quadrille to be formed. Teresa was endowed with all those wild graces which are so much more potent than our affected and studied elegancies. then. And with overpowering compliments her handsome cavalier led her back to the place whence he had taken her. Awakened in the night by the light of the flames. and if she were envious of the Count of San-Felice's daughter. but his face was so gloomy and terrible that her words froze to her lips. Luigi remained mute. and I had only one word to say. and the gates of the villa were closed on them for the festa in-doors.the dagger with a carved handle which was in his belt. he left her. and which. had dazzled her eyes with its sinister glare. One of the cavaliers then hastened to invite Teresa. but when she looked at the agitated countenance of the young man.' said Luigi. much astonished. As Luigi spoke thus. However.'--'Well. to the imprudence of some servant who had neglected to extinguish the lights. that Luigi had not felt the strength to support another such trial. at first timid and scared. with all the frankness of her nature. but the young girl had disappeared. soon recovered herself. yet fully comprehended that Luigi was right in reproaching her. she went into the house with a sigh. When the chill of the night had driven away the guests from the gardens. she did not know. half drawn from its sheath. we will not undertake to say that Carmela was not jealous of her. Thus. and when he had quite disappeared. and not a word escaped his lips the rest of the evening.' "'And what said your cavalier to you?'--'He said it only depended on myself to have it. and. "That night a memorable event occurred. but this is not all. Twice or thrice during the dance the young girl had glanced at Luigi.' "'He was right. you shall have it!' "The young girl. Luigi was jealous! He felt that. She herself was not exempt from internal emotion. she understood by his silence and trembling voice that something strange was passing within him. she sprang out of bed.

and. when suddenly her window. she on her part assumed a smiling air. Luigi threw his cloak on the ground. As the count was immensely rich. excepting the danger Carmela had run. On arriving there. made that appear to him rather a favor of providence than a real misfortune.--the loss occasioned by the conflagration was to him but a trifle. were spread out the pearl necklace and the diamond pins. The traveller. and seemed to have completely forgotten the events of the previous evening. without inquiring whence this attire came. All the servants surrounded her. 'yesterday evening you told me you would give all the world to have a costume similar to that of the count's daughter. and led her to the door of the grotto. and on reaching these the traveller might again stray from his route. and showed Teresa the grotto.'--'Yes. he was inquired after. darted into the grotto. as long as Carmela was safe and uninjured? Her preserver was everywhere sought for. 'Go into the grotto and dress yourself."--'And here is your recompense.' At these words he drew away the stone. placed his carbine on his shoulder. She then returned to her room. was opened. and thus presenting against the blue sky that perfect outline which is peculiar to distant objects in southern climes. as if uncertain of his road. offering her assistance. but seeing Luigi so cheerful. which burnt on each side of a splendid mirror. Teresa. which was twenty feet from the ground.'--'And I replied. and freed from his heavy covering. looked at him steadfastly.' "'I have promised no more than I have given you. and on a chair at the side was laid the rest of the costume. and now you cannot again mistake.--"That is your road. had mistaken his way. but no one had seen him. The young girl. for on the crest of a small adjacent hill which cut off the view toward Palestrina. Carmela was greatly troubled that she had not recognized him. In ten minutes Luigi and the traveller reached the cross-roads. stopping a moment. seized her in his arms. 'but of course your reply was only to please me. Luigi took her arm beneath his own. made by Luigi. her father was by her side. a young peasant jumped into the chamber. preceded the traveller with the rapid step of a mountaineer.' said Luigi proudly.--and the marvellous manner in which she had escaped.' said the . 'but I was mad to utter such a wish. calling for help as loudly as she could. and with superhuman skill and strength conveyed her to the turf of the grass-plot. An entire wing of the villa was burnt down. "The next day. with an air as majestic as that of an emperor. transformed into a dressing-room. he stretched his hand towards that one of the roads which the traveller was to follow. where she fainted. When she recovered. which a horse can scarcely keep up with.' said Luigi."'--'Yes. on a rustic table. 'Teresa. he saw a traveller on horseback.to escape by the door. He came toward Teresa in high spirits. which was natural to her when she was not excited or in a passion. but the corridor by which she hoped to fly was already a prey to the flames. When he saw Luigi. The young girl was very pensive. but what of that. lighted up by two wax lights. but he did not appear. the two young peasants were on the borders of the forest. or even thanking Luigi. Luigi pushed the stone behind her. who was going from Palestrina to Tivoli.' replied Teresa with astonishment. whose astonishment increased at every word uttered by Luigi. perceiving that there was something extraordinary. at the usual hour. he begged Luigi to be his guide. "Very well. Then he paused.' replied the young girl. you shall have it. excellency. "Teresa uttered a cry of joy. the young man directed him. Luigi was not mistaken. Luigi arrived first. but as at a distance of a quarter of a mile the road again divided into three ways. he put his horse into a gallop and advanced toward him.

Three cries for help came more distinctly to his ear. as had the name of the Count of Monte Cristo on the previous evening. was already three-quarters of the way on the road from the grotto to the forest. "Vampa put the two sequins haughtily into his pocket.' answered the traveller. "that was the name which the traveller gave to Vampa as his own. King of Macedon. and she had dropped on her knees. A moment afterwards he thought he heard his own name pronounced distinctly. He listened to know whence this sound could proceed." he said.' said the young herdsman.--'Luigi Vampa.traveller. but for me. but the man lay on the earth struggling in the agonies of death. you will. that is another thing. This man.--'And yours?'--'I. awakened in him a world of recollections. The ravisher stopped suddenly. for this poniard is worth more than two sequins. yes. and slowly returned by the way he had gone. offering the young herdsman some small pieces of money. Vampa measured the distance. and he fell with Teresa in his arms. the man was at least two hundred paces in advance of him. Fortunately. so that the young man feared that the ball that had brought down his enemy. "Proceed!" said he to the host.' replied the traveller. I do not sell it. As he came within two or three hundred paces of the grotto. He cast his eyes around him and saw a man carrying off Teresa. "Yes.' "'I accept it. she was unscathed. "it is a very pretty name." replied the narrator. with the same air as he would have replied. "'Thank you.' said the traveller. 'but then the obligation will be on my side. carried Dejanira. and it was . who seemed used to this difference between the servility of a man of the cities and the pride of the mountaineer. and then fired.' said the traveller. followed him for a second in his track. the centaur. perhaps. to make herself a pair of earrings. The young shepherd stopped. who was hastening towards the wood.' "'What is your name?' inquired the traveller. and what may you have to say against this name?" inquired Albert. 'take these two Venetian sequins and give them to your bride. and the adventures of the gentleman of that name amused me very much in my youth. and in a moment reached the summit of a hill opposite to that on which he had perceived the traveller. as Nessus. 'am called Sinbad the Sailor. who engraved it myself.' replied the shepherd.' "'And then do you take this poniard. took aim at the ravisher. as may well be supposed.'" Franz d'Epinay started with surprise. Vampa then rushed towards Teresa.'--'For a dealer perhaps. drawing back his hand. then he put the butt of his carbine to his shoulder. The name of Sinbad the Sailor. accept a gift. as if his feet had been rooted to the ground. had also wounded his betrothed. "Sinbad the Sailor. He bounded like a chamois. his knees bent under him."--Franz said no more." "Well.'--'Well. for at ten paces from the dying man her legs had failed her. and there was not a chance of overtaking him.'--'Then. cocking his carbine as he went.' said Luigi. he thought he heard a cry. I must confess. it is hardly worth a piastre. 'if you refuse wages. 'I render a service. The young girl rose instantly. 'you will not find one better carved between Albano and Civita-Castellana.'--'Ah. Alexander. The cry proceeded from the grotto.

and buttons of sapphires.' he . dared not approach the slain ruffian but by degrees. but as she saw him advance with even step and composed countenance. Vampa gazed on him for a moment without betraying the slightest emotion. and a hat whereon hung ribbons of all colors. and profiting by the moment when her lover had left her alone. his mouth in a spasm of agony. worked with a thousand arabesques.' "Teresa was clothed from head to foot in the garb of the Count of San-Felice's daughter. and would have declared. The young man saw the effect produced on his betrothed. and soon entered it. We need scarcely say that all the paths of the mountain were known to Vampa. had pierced his heart. but he knew his path by looking at the trees and bushes. while. emeralds. he therefore went forward without a moment's hesitation. shuddering in every limb. He had just expired. clad in a cashmere grown. They went towards the forest. yes!' exclaimed the young girl enthusiastically. He would. he turned towards the wounded man. not uttering a syllable. led into a deep gorge. Teresa uttered a cry of admiration. seemed. When Luigi had assured himself that she was safe and unharmed. and a splendid poniard was in his belt. Vampa approached the corpse. and powerful as a god.--'And follow me wherever I go?'--'To the world's end. a man advanced from behind a tree and aimed at Vampa. he had been enamoured of Teresa. she endeavored to repress her emotion. on reaching Paris. and a smile of pride passed over his lips. and red and green silk. he would have seen a strange thing. enclosed between two ridges. his costume was no less elegant than that of Teresa. and let us on. we have no time to lose. Vampa took this wild road. Suddenly Vampa turned toward his mistress:--'Ah. a cartridge-box worked with gold. for he appeared to her at this moment as handsome. He wore a vest of garnet-colored velvet. His eyes remained open and menacing. and recognized Cucumetto. Vampa in this attire resembled a painting by Leopold Robert. and shadowed by the tufted umbrage of the pines. while in her turn Teresa remained outside. have believed that he had returned to the times of Florian. two watches hung from his girdle. or Schnetz. Suddenly. although there was no beaten track. Vampa took Cucumetto's body in his arms and conveyed it to the grotto. proud.'--The young girl did so without questioning her lover as to where he was conducting her. At the end of this time they had reached the thickest of the forest. fastened above the knee with diamond buckles. about ten paces from them. a Roman scarf tied round his neck.--'Not another step. If a second traveller had passed. but for the difficulties of its descent. 'are you ready to share my fortune. with clinched hands.'--'Then take my arm. with buttons of cut gold. that he had met an Alpine shepherdess seated at the foot of the Sabine Hill. From the day on which the bandit had been saved by the two young peasants. that path to Avernus of which Virgil speaks. and threw a hesitating glance at the dead body over the shoulder of her lover. diamond pins. Teresa had become alarmed at the wild and deserted look of the plain around her.' said he--'good. which. and pressed closely against her guide. whatever it may be?'--'Oh. At the end of a quarter of an hour Vampa quitted the grotto. had carried her off. when the ball. A torrent.fright alone that had overcome Teresa.--'Now. and rubies. it is now my turn to dress myself. with ear-rings and necklace of pearls. on the contrary. and believed he at length had her in his power.' he said to Teresa. From that time he had watched them. garters of deerskin. He had assumed the entire costume of Cucumetto. whose bed was dry.--a shepherdess watching her flock. no doubt. and thus they kept on advancing for nearly an hour and a half. directed by the unerring skill of the young herdsman. and his hair on end in the sweat of death. a silk waistcoat covered with embroidery. Teresa. sky-blue velvet breeches. and had sworn she should be his. good! You are dressed.

'you may now go on.' said Vampa. shepherd of the San-Felice farm." "Then the police have vainly tried to lay hands on him?" "Why. or Monte Cristo." replied Franz. then.'--'What do you want?'--'I would speak with your companions who are in the glade at Rocca Bianca." "Well. then. the fishermen of the Tiber. and the smugglers of the coast. Guanouti. Teresa and Luigi reached the summit. or La Riccia. and all at once found themselves in the presence of twenty bandits.--'I come to ask to be your captain. who had recognized Luigi Vampa. vice Cucumetto deceased. a croak answered this signal.' said the lieutenant.' said the young man.'--'Follow me." said Franz. 'and you seek admittance into our ranks?'--'Welcome!' cried several bandits from Ferrusino. and Anagni. he has a good understanding with the shepherds in the plains. and he has suddenly taken refuge in the islands.' was Vampa's reply. at Giglio. The two young persons obeyed. 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.' An hour afterwards Luigi Vampa was chosen captain. went before Teresa.--'What has he to say?' inquired the young man who was in command in the chief's absence.--'I am Luigi Vampa. The bandits shouted with laughter. 'Here is a young man who seeks and wishes to speak to you.' said the sentinel. The retreat of Rocca Bianca was at the top of a small mountain. turning towards his friend. They seek for him in the mountains.'--'And what may that be?' inquired the bandits with astonishment.--'Ah. 'do wolves rend each other?'--'Who are you?' inquired the sentinel. 'And what have you done to aspire to this honor?' demanded the lieutenant. and he is on the waters." replied Albert. 'or. Then the bandit thrice imitated the cry of a crow. as you know your way.'--Luigi and Teresa again set forward.' said the sentinel." "And what may a myth be?" inquired Pastrini. "what think you of citizen Luigi Vampa?" "I say he is a myth. as they went on Teresa clung tremblingly to her lover at the sight of weapons and the glistening of carbines through the trees. go first. while Teresa. my dear Albert. I understand.'--Vampa smiled disdainfully at this precaution on the part of the bandit. raising his hand with a gesture of disdain.--'I wish to say that I am tired of a shepherd's life. Tivoli. "and never had an existence.--'I have killed your chief. and I set fire to the villa San-Felice to procure a wedding-dress for my betrothed. Pampinara." . 'or you are a dead man.'--'What. and when they hunt for him there.said. "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.--'Good!' said the sentry. "The explanation would be too long. they follow him on the waters. Cucumetto. you see. my dear landlord. but I came to ask something more than to be your companion.--'Yes. he reappears suddenly at Albano. and he is on the open sea. whose dress I now wear. clung closely to him. no longer able to restrain her alarm. and continued to advance with the same firm and easy step as before. At the end of ten minutes the bandit made them a sign to stop. then they pursue him.

twelve hours. "if the way be picturesque. "are you still disposed to go to the Colosseum by the outer wall?" "Quite so. and a coachman appeared. Civita-Vecchio. or a day wherein to pay their ransom. he blows out the prisoner's brains with a pistol-shot. The Colosseum. At the sixtieth minute of this hour." "Well. and got into the carriage. as on those of Corsica. so that no preliminary impression interfered to mitigate the colossal proportions of the gigantic building they came to admire. Franz had so managed his route. reminded Franz of the two Corsican bandits he had found supping so amicably with the crew of the little yacht. arriving at a satisfactory reply to any of them. This itinerary possessed another great advantage. and to ask himself an interminable number of questions touching its various circumstances without. Tuscany. and further." The clock struck nine as the door opened. I thought you had more courage. he continued to ponder over the singular history he had so lately listened to. your excellencies?" "By the streets. Ostia. and lighting his third cigar. by the streets!" cried Franz. abundantly proved to him that his island friend was playing his philanthropic part on the shores of Piombino. "the coach is ready. however." So saying. Chapter 34." said Albert."And how does he behave towards travellers?" "Alas! his plan is very simple. and Pastrini's account of Vampa's having found refuge on board the vessels of smugglers and fishermen. morbleu. 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. my dear fellow." "Well." inquired Franz of his companion. in which his mysterious host of Monte Cristo was so strangely mixed up.--that of leaving Franz at full liberty to indulge his deep reverie upon the subject of Signor Pastrini's story. and Spain. Albert. "really. the two young men went down the staircase. rising. that during the ride to the Colosseum they passed not a single ancient ruin. whether he gives eight hours. and that settles the account. if the money is not forthcoming. One fact more than the rest brought his friend "Sinbad the Sailor" back to his recollection. The very name assumed by his host of Monte Cristo and again repeated by the landlord of the Hotel de Londres." "By the Porta del Popolo or by the streets. or plants his dagger in his heart. "Excellencies. the travellers would find themselves directly opposite the Colosseum. It depends on the distance he may be from the city. Franz bethought him of having heard his singular entertainer speak both of Tunis and Palermo. "let us to the Colosseum. proving thereby how largely his circle of . and that was the mysterious sort of intimacy that seemed to exist between the brigands and the sailors." said he. and Gaeta. which had even deviated from its course and touched at Porto-Vecchio for the sole purpose of landing them." said Franz. "Ah. then. Seated with folded arms in a corner of the carriage. and when that time has elapsed he allows another hour's grace." said Albert. The road selected was a continuation of the Via Sistina.

and more especially by moonlight. it would have been so much the more difficult to break their bondage. as a matter of course. to his credit be it spoken. almost to each part of a monument. his mind. there is also a special cicerone belonging to each monument--nay. who. But however the mind of the young man might be absorbed in these reflections. indeed. The usual guide from the hotel having followed them. who seizes upon you directly you set foot in your hotel. and the many voices of Fame spread far and wide the surpassing merits of this incomparable monument. and certainly no adequate notion of these stupendous ruins can be formed save by such as have visited them. they had paid two conductors. they were at once dispersed at the sight of the dark frowning ruins of the stupendous Colosseum.acquaintances extended. who appeared to have sprung up from the ground. 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. with the Lions' Den. that wonder of all ages. but blindly and confidingly surrendered themselves into the care and custody of their conductors. and as regularly followed by them. which Martial thus eulogizes: "Let Memphis cease to boast the barbarous miracles of her pyramids. and immediately opposite a large aperture. and the young men."). the young men made no attempt at resistance. therefore. leaving them to follow their monotonous round. seated himself at the foot of a column. through the various openings of which the pale moonlight played and flickered like the unearthly gleam from the eyes of the wandering dead. The carriage stopped near the Meta Sudans. as the guides alone are permitted to visit these monuments with torches in their hands. and. abandoning Albert to the guides (who would by no means yield their prescriptive right of carrying their victims through the routine regularly laid down. the door was opened. than. Franz ascended a half-dilapidated staircase. and the wonders of Babylon be talked of no more among us." As for Albert and Franz. they essayed not to escape from their ciceronian tyrants. but dragged the unconscious visitor to the various objects with a pertinacity that admitted of no appeal. then. It may. which permitted him to enjoy a full and undisturbed view of the gigantic dimensions of the majestic ruin. eagerly alighting. had emerged from a vomitarium at the opposite extremity of the Colosseum. holding torches in their hands. had the reflective Franz walked a hundred steps beneath the interior porticoes of the ruin. even amid the glib loquacity of the guides. to escape a jargon and mechanical survey of the wonders by which he was surrounded. whose rays are sufficiently clear and vivid to light the horizon with a glow equal to the soft twilight of an eastern clime. nor is it possible. and then again . so unexpected was his appearance. all must bow to the superiority of the gigantic labor of the Caesars. at which time the vast proportions of the building appear twice as large when viewed by the mysterious beams of a southern moonlit sky. and. while his less favored companion trod for the first time in his life the classic ground forming the monument of Flavius Vespasian. found themselves opposite a cicerone. beginning. therefore. Thus. and never quits you while you remain in the city. and from whence his eyes followed the motions of Albert and his guides. at Rome. to avoid this abundant supply of guides. Albert had already made seven or eight similar excursions to the Colosseum. be easily imagined there is no scarcity of guides at the Colosseum. Scarcely. and. was duly and deeply touched with awe and enthusiastic admiration of all he saw. besides the ordinary cicerone. and finishing with Caesar's "Podium.

entering through the broken ceiling. which. He wore a large brown mantle. but the hesitation with which he proceeded. served likewise to mask the lower part of his countenance. that rendered it impossible to distinguish his features. Franz withdrew as much as possible behind his pillar. I should have felt quite sure that the delay was not . "but I don't think I'm many minutes after my time. like Franz. From the imperfect means Franz had of judging. The stranger thus presenting himself was probably a person who. and the stranger began to show manifest signs of impatience. Some few minutes had elapsed. while large masses of thick. But even if you had caused me to wait a little while. but it seemed to him that the substance that fell gave way beneath the pressure of a foot. through which might be seen the blue vault of heaven. Conjecture soon became certainty. strong fibrous shoots forced their way through the chasm. and glided down by their help to within three or four feet of the ground. and then leaped lightly on his feet. like so many waving strings. whose delicate green branches stood out in bold relief against the clear azure of the firmament. 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. The lower part of his dress was more distinctly visible by the bright rays of the moon. one fold of which. which had. then. thrown over his left shoulder. as his eye caught sight of him in the mantle. The person whose mysterious arrival had attracted the attention of Franz stood in a kind of half-light. The man who had performed this daring act with so much indifference wore the Transtevere costume." said the man. in the Roman dialect. resembling. possibly.disappeared down the steps conducting to the seats reserved for the Vestal virgins. About ten feet from the spot where he and the stranger were. and also that some one. By a sort of instinctive impulse. and the figure of a man was clearly seen gazing with eager scrutiny on the immense space beneath him. the roof had given way. There was nothing remarkable in the circumstance of a fragment of granite giving way and falling heavily below. he could only come to one conclusion. while the upper part was completely hidden by his broad-brimmed hat. gradually emerging from the staircase opposite. stopping and listening with anxious attention at every step he took.--that the person whom he was thus watching certainly belonged to no inferior station of life. over which descended fashionably cut trousers of black cloth. he grasped a floating mass of thickly matted boughs. upon which the moon was at that moment pouring a full tide of silvery brightness. ten o'clock has just struck on the Lateran. when a slight noise was heard outside the aperture in the roof. for the figure of a man was distinctly visible to Franz. and hung floating to and fro. as they glided along." "Say not a word about being late. preferred the enjoyment of solitude and his own thoughts to the frivolous gabble of the guides. for ages permitted a free entrance to the brilliant moonbeams that now illumined the vast pile. shed their refulgent beams on feet cased in elegantly made boots of polished leather. "'tis I who am too soon. convinced Franz that he expected the arrival of some person. was approaching the spot where he sat." replied the stranger in purest Tuscan. Around this opening. leaving a large round opening. although his dress was easily made out. thickly studded with stars. grew a quantity of creeping plants. "I beg your excellency's pardon for keeping you waiting. some restless shades following the flickering glare of so many ignes-fatui. and almost immediately a dark shadow seemed to obstruct the flood of light that had entered it. who endeavored as much as possible to prevent his footsteps from being heard. And his appearance had nothing extraordinary in it.

Perhaps some of these days I may be entrapped." "But Peppino did not even belong to my band: he was merely a poor shepherd. and deserves not the smallest pity. but one thing I have resolved on. no one knows what may happen. by which means." said the man. But mark the distinction with which he is treated. is poor Peppino." "Which makes him your accomplice to all intents and purposes. the amusements of the day are diversified. ** Beheaded. like poor Peppino and may be very glad to have some little nibbling mouse to gnaw the meshes of my net." "My good friend. whose only crime consisted in furnishing us with provisions. "The fact is." "Your excellency is perfectly right in so thinking." "And who is Beppo?" "Oh. instead of being knocked on the head as you would be if once they caught hold of you. I should hate and despise myself as a coward did I desert the brave fellow in his present extremity. "I came here direct from the Castle of St. [*] he is an atrocious villain.occasioned by any fault of yours. who has got into this scrape solely from having served me. The other sufferer is sentenced to be decapitato. "excuse me for saying that you seem to me precisely in the mood to commit some wild or extravagant act." "And what do you mean to do?" . your excellency. too. to stop at nothing to restore a poor devil to liberty. and so help me out of prison." "Without reckoning the wholly unexpected one I am preparing to surprise them with. that they are glad of all opportunity of making an example. that you have inspired not only the pontifical government. Angelo. as is customary at Rome at the commencement of all great festivals." * Knocked on the head. One of the culprits will be mazzolato. and I had an immense deal of trouble before I could get a chance to speak to Beppo." said the man in the cloak. I see. and there is a spectacle to please every spectator. you see. Beppo is employed in the prison." "Why." "Briefly. with such extreme fear. he is simply sentenced to be guillotined. who murdered the priest who brought him up. what did you glean?" "That two executions of considerable interest will take place the day after to-morrow at two o'clock. and that is." "Indeed! You are a provident person. and I give him so much a year to let me know what is going on within his holiness's castle." "Perhaps I am. but also the neighboring states. [**] and he.

Take what precautions you please. "I said. means of pistols. and convinces me that my scheme is far better than yours. I have engaged the three lower windows at the Cafe Rospoli.000 piastres. "you are fully persuaded of my entire . will hand it to the executioner. and blunderbusses included. carbines. His dress will procure him the means of approaching the scaffold itself. then. in case your excellency should fail. because in either case a very useless expense will have been incurred. and that you have but one day to work in. to act." "And what is your excellency's project?" "Just this. and during that year. and. if it be only to prevent his dying of fear or losing his senses.400 seconds very many things can be done. and he will deliver the official order to the officer. the two outside windows will be hung with yellow damasks. should I have obtained the requisite pardon for Peppino. there can be no harm in myself and party being in readiness. that the person receiving them shall obtain a respite till next year for Peppino. and have my good fellow." "None whatever. at a signal from me." "Oh. no fears for the result. but rely upon my obtaining the reprieve I seek. if it is any satisfaction to you to do so. in the meantime. it will be as well to acquaint Peppino with what we have determined on. will rush forward directly Peppino is brought for execution. in his turn. who. who. "What did your excellency say?" inquired the other. drive back the guard. having a large cross in red marked on it. I will so advantageously bestow 2. and the centre with white. suddenly expressing himself in French." "And what of that? Is not a day divided into twenty-four hours. by the assistance of their stilettos. Leave me."To surround the scaffold with twenty of my best men. and I will give it to him. that is very easily arranged." "Remember. and carry off the prisoner.000 piastres will afford him the means of escaping from his prison. another skilfully placed 1. each hour into sixty minutes." "That seems to me as hazardous as uncertain. the execution is fixed for the day after tomorrow. and every minute sub-divided into sixty seconds? Now in 86." "Your excellency. that I would do more single-handed by the gold than you and all your troop could effect with stilettos." "And whom will you employ to carry the reprieve to the officer directing the execution?" "Send one of your men." said the man." "And how shall I know whether your excellency has succeeded or not. disguised as a penitent friar." "At least." "And do you feel sure of succeeding?" "Pardieu!" exclaimed the man in the cloak.

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. then. those guides are nothing but spies. Franz was on the road to the Piazza de Spagni. Franz let him proceed without interruption. and might possibly recognize you." replied the cavalier in the cloak. and henceforward you shall receive not only devotion. and if from the other end of the world you but write me word to do such or such a thing. my good fellow. are you not?" "Nay. who are visiting the Colosseum by torchlight. in my turn. perhaps. and I further promise you to be there as a spectator of your prowess." "And if you fail?" "Then all three windows will have yellow draperies. Franz." "'Twere better we should not be seen together. you may regard it as done. after the manner of Pliny and Calpurnius. for done it shall be." "'Tis some travellers. 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. and. the Transteverin disappeared down the staircase. on the word and faith of"-"Hush!" interrupted the stranger. may require your aid and influence. my good friend." "Let that day come sooner or later. The next minute Franz heard himself called by Albert. then. I flatter myself that there can be no doubt of it. bearing a red cross. for I may remind you of your promise at some. if once the extent of our intimacy were known." "Well." "Have a care how far you pledge yourself.devotion to you. only fulfil your promise of rescuing Peppino. not very distant period. did not hear what . and descended to the arena by an outward flight of steps. my worthy friend. when I. listening with studied indifference to the learned dissertation delivered by Albert. however I may be honored by your friendship. 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. depend upon me as firmly as I do upon you. but the most absolute obedience from myself and those under me that one human being can render to another. In ten minutes after the strangers had departed. passed almost close to Franz." "And then?" "And then." Saying these words. touching the iron-pointed nets used to prevent the ferocious beasts from springing on the spectators. in fact." "We understand each other perfectly. use your daggers in any way you please. while his companion. and. your excellency. "Well. however. "I hear a noise. Adieu. your excellency will find me what I have found you in this my heavy trouble. then.

and La Specchia. and also what performers appeared in it. the firmer grew his opinion on the subject. he longed to be alone. 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. with their orchestras from which it is impossible to see. but in the present instance. the confidential nature of the conversation he had overheard made him. The opera of "Parisina" was announced for representation. 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. As we have seen. and though Franz had been unable to distinguish his features. Moriani. he permitted his former host to retire without attempting a recognition. had reason to consider themselves fortunate in having the opportunity of hearing one of the best works by the composer of "Lucia di Lammermoor. Still. "Sinbad the Sailor. Neither had he neglected to ascertain the name of the piece to be played that night at the Teatro Argentino. but fully promising himself a rich indemnity for his present forbearance should chance afford him another opportunity. and the absence of balconies. the more entire was his conviction. delighted with his day's work. with propriety. yet well-pitched voice that had addressed him in the grotto of Monte Cristo. and had received in return more invitations to balls and routs than it would be possible for him to accept. all these defects pressed hard on a man who had had his stall at the Bouffes. he fell asleep at daybreak. and Franz. 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 which he heard for the second time amid the darkness and ruined grandeur of the Colosseum." Under any other circumstances. therefore. Franz would have found it impossible to resist his extreme curiosity to know more of so singular a personage. relinquished the carriage to Albert for the whole of the day. Like a genuine Frenchman. Albert had never been able to endure the Italian theatres. Yes. or open boxes. but. Albert displayed his most dazzling and effective costumes each time he visited the theatres. It was more especially when this man was speaking in a manner half jesting. he had sent to engage a box at the Teatro Argentino. that the person who wore the mantle was no other than his former host and entertainer. In vain did Franz endeavor to forget the many perplexing thoughts which assailed him. that Franz's ear recalled most vividly the deep sonorous. And the more he thought. in vain did he court the refreshment of sleep. and did not awake till late. and with that intent have sought to renew their short acquaintance. in a single day he had accomplished what his more serious-minded companion would have taken weeks to effect.was said. in spite of this. having a number of letters to write. besides this. whose mysterious meeting in the Colosseum he had so unintentionally witnessed. from his being either wrapped in his mantle or obscured by the shadow. and the more he thought. Albert had employed his time in arranging for the evening's diversion. hear them when or where he might. he had been occupied in leaving his letters of introduction. and free to ponder over all that had occurred. Worn out at length. his elegant toilet was wholly thrown away. alas. and the principal actors were Coselli." supported by three of the most renowned vocalists of Italy. judge that his appearance at such a time would be anything but agreeable. but not so the other. was an entire stranger to him. half bitter. The young men. and had shared a lower box at the Opera. he had seen (as he called it) all the remarkable sights at Rome. At five o'clock Albert returned. . therefore. One of the two men.

Albert. and claims to notice. a more than sufficient sum to render him a personage of considerable importance in Paris. certainly. there might be an exception to the general rule. aided by a powerful opera-glass.000 livres. and Neapolitans were all faithful. that they are faithful even in their infidelity. Alas. poor Albert! none of those interesting adventures fell in his way. besides being an elegant. for this reason. he was a viscount--a recently created one. thus advantageously placed. he leaned from his box and began attentively scrutinizing the beauty of each pretty woman. Albert de Morcerf commanded an income of 50. but in the present day it is not necessary to go as far back as Noah in tracing a descent. and deign to mingle in the follies of this time of liberty and relaxation. into whose good graces he was desirous of stealing. according to the characteristic modesty of a Frenchman.Sometimes Albert would affect to make a joke of his want of success. and it was but too apparent that the lovely creatures. whether dated from 1399 or merely 1815. the most admired and most sought after of any young person of his day. therefore Albert had not an instant to lose in setting forth the programme of his hopes. and is. 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. and all he gained was the painful conviction that the ladies of Italy have this advantage over those of France. The box taken by Albert was in the first circle. Totally disregarding the business of the stage. was also possessed of considerable talent and ability. expectations. Another motive had influenced Albert's selection of his seat. as. but to crown all these advantages. alas. moreover. however. Florentines. hoped to indemnify himself for all these slights and indifferences during the Carnival. their lovers. well-looking young man. and thought not of changing even for the splendid appearance of Albert de Morcerf. and exerted himself to set off his personal attractions by the aid of the most rich and elaborate toilet. Albert. although each of the three tiers of boxes is deemed equally aristocratic. or a place in a princely balcony. and merely have his labor for his pains. and an introduction might ensue that would procure him the offer of a seat in a carriage. were all so much engrossed with themselves. Rome is the spot where even the wisest and gravest throw off the usual rigidity of their lives. to think that Albert de Morcerf. and his self-love immensely piqued. or their own thoughts.--who knew but that. With this design he had engaged a box in the most conspicuous part of the theatre. 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. as elsewhere. Albert had quitted Paris with the full conviction that he had only to show himself in Italy to carry all before him. but. the lovely Genoese. if not to their husbands. Yet he could not restrain a hope that in Italy." and although the box engaged for the two friends was sufficiently capacious to contain at least a dozen persons. And the thing was so much the more annoying. that they had not so much as noticed him or the . not even curiosity had been excited. he might not in truth attract the notice of some fair Roman. knowing full well that among the different states and kingdoms in which this festivity is celebrated. The Carnival was to commence on the morrow. and that upon his return he should astonish the Parisian world with the recital of his numerous love-affairs. and a genealogical tree is equally estimated. should thus be passed over. at least to their lovers. generally styled the "nobility's boxes. it had cost less than would be paid at some of the French theatres for one admitting merely four occupants. this attempt to attract notice wholly failed. but internally he was deeply wounded.

with the "holy week" that was to succeed it. the countess perceived Franz. they quickly relapsed into their former state of preoccupation or interesting conversation." continued Franz gravely." "Ah. to which he replied by a respectful inclination of the head. "Do you know the woman who has just entered that box?" "Yes. there is a similarity of feeling at this instant between ourselves and the countess--nothing more." At that instant. of taste. a well-executed recitative by Coselli. that the anticipated pleasures of the Carnival. so filled every fair breast. a lady entered to whom Franz had been introduced in Paris. where indeed. and graciously waved her hand to him. I was to have been presented to her when I met her at Madame Villefort's ball. The actors made their entries and exits unobserved or unthought of. to listen to some brilliant effort of Moriani's. The quick eye of Albert caught the involuntary start with which his friend beheld the new arrival." said Albert. "Upon my word. as to prevent the least attention being bestowed even on the business of the stage. my good fellow? Pray tell me. he said hastily. Towards the close of the first act. 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. I know her by name!" exclaimed Albert. but that momentary excitement over." "You are mistaken in thinking so. "My dear fellow. and.--I mean that of judging the habits and customs of Italy and Spain by our Parisian notions. turning to him. "you seem to be on excellent terms with the beautiful countess." returned Franz calmly. The truth was. she is perfectly lovely--what a complexion! And such magnificent hair! Is she French?" "No. are you really on such good terms with her as to venture to take me to her box?" "Why. I have only had the honor of being in her society and conversing with her three or four times in my life. what do you think of her?" "Oh. "she is said to possess as much wit and cleverness as beauty. believe me. . "but you merely fall into the same error which leads so many of our countrymen to commit the most egregious blunders." "Shall I assist you in repairing your negligence?" asked Franz. indeed. the spectators would suddenly cease their conversation. is it sympathy of heart?" "No. a Venetian." "And her name is--" "Countess G----. or rouse themselves from their musings. he had imagined she still was. but you know that even such an acquaintance as that might warrant my doing what you ask. the door of a box which had been hitherto vacant was opened. or to join in loud applause at the wonderful powers of La Specchia. at certain conventional moments." "Is there.manipulation of his glass.

that they never mean to finish it. let us only remember the present." cried Albert. you must admire Moriani's style and execution."And in what manner has this congeniality of mind been evinced?" "By the countess's visiting the Colosseum." "And what did you say to her?" "Oh. by moonlight. you are really too difficult to please. arranged his cravat and wristbands. my dear fellow. sought not to retard the gratification of Albert's eager impatience." "You were with her. but began at once the tour of the house. we talked of the illustrious dead of whom that magnificent ruin is a glorious monument!" "Upon my word. then?" "I was." "Oh. ponderous appearance singing with a voice like a woman's. turning to him." "At least. they will." The curtain at length fell on the performances." "Well." "My good friend. inelegant fellow he is. only listen to that charming finale." "I never fancied men of his dark." "And you will probably find your theme ill-chosen. and yet to find nothing better a talk about than the dead! All I can say is. "you seem determined not to approve. closely followed by Albert." "But what an awkward. such singers as these don't make the same impression on you they perhaps do on others. what do you say to La Specchia? Did you ever see anything more perfect than her acting?" "Why. who availed himself of the few minutes required . rapidly passed his fingers through his hair. How exquisitely Coselli sings his part." "What a confounded time this first act takes. to the infinite satisfaction of the Viscount of Morcerf. and nearly alone. while Albert continued to point his glass at every box in the theatre. as we did last night." said Albert. or all but alone. Franz. the living should be my theme." "But. I believe. yes. then. who seized his hat. directly the curtain falls on the stage. who had mutely interrogated the countess. "you must have been a very entertaining companion alone. when one has been accustomed to Malibran and Sontag. and signified to Franz that he was waiting for him to lead the way. breaking in upon his discourse. Are you not going to keep your promise of introducing me to the fair subject of our remarks?" "Certainly. and received from her a gracious smile in token that he would be welcome. on my soul. with a beautiful woman in such a place of sentiment as the Colosseum. "never mind the past. if ever I should get such a chance." said Franz. you know.

" replied the countess. admirably arranged and put on the stage by Henri. At the knock." "And what do you think of her personal appearance?" "Oh. Franz added that his companion. since beauty such as hers was well worthy of being observed by either sex. and the young man who was seated beside the countess. 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. would be expected to retire upon the arrival of other visitors. she recommended Franz to take the next best. and at others she is merely attended by a black servant. and since then she has never missed a performance. bowed gracefully to Albert. dressed in a Greek costume. inviting Albert to take the vacant seat beside her. one act of . speaking to the countess of the various persons they both knew there. while Franz returned to his previous survey of the house and company. instantly rose and surrendered his place to the strangers. and extended her hand with cordial kindness to Franz. Behind her. Albert was soon deeply engrossed in discoursing upon Paris and Parisian matters. This important task was just completed as they arrived at the countess's box. "All I can tell about her. method. and a hundred and fifty persons may be seen exhibiting the same attitude. in reply. that would lead you to suppose that but one mind. was the outline of a masculine figure. took up Albert's glass. and concluded by asking pardon for his presumption in having taken it upon himself to do so. and pointed to the one behind her own chair. and had requested him (Franz) to remedy the past misfortune by conducting him to her box. "is.to reach the opposite side of the theatre to settle the height and smoothness of his collar. was most anxious to make up for it. Franz could not forbear breaking in upon the apparently interesting conversation passing between the countess and Albert. but situated on the third row. and began in his turn to survey the audience. which was one of those excellent specimens of the Italian school. in the front of a box immediately opposite. and then the latter resumed her conversation with Albert. and. but in deep shadow. both as regarded his position in society and extraordinary talents. but the features of this latter personage it was not possible to distinguish. unwilling to interfere with the pleasure he so evidently felt. The countess. to inquire of the former if she knew who was the fair Albanian opposite. from the principal dancers to the humblest supernumerary. for in Paris and the circle in which the viscount moved. Sometimes she is accompanied by the person who is now with her. or elevating the same arm or leg with a simultaneous movement. and to arrange the lappets of his coat. Franz presented Albert as one of the most distinguished young men of the day. who. and elegance in which the whole corps de ballet. in turn. which evidently. are all engaged on the stage at the same time." Franz and the countess exchanged a smile. from the ease and grace with which she wore it. then. was a woman of exquisite beauty. was her national attire. Sitting alone. deeply grieved at having been prevented the honor of being presented to the countess during her sojourn in Paris. if he wished to view the ballet. in obedience to the Italian custom. for I saw her where she now sits the very first night of the season. The curtain rose on the ballet. Franz perceived how completely he was in his element. the door was immediately opened. I consider her perfectly lovely--she is just my idea of what Medora must have been. nor did he say more than the truth. he was looked upon and cited as a model of perfection. that she has been at Rome since the beginning of the season.

volition. his singular host evidently resided at Rome. and was about to join the loud. and the very same person he had encountered the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum. Excited beyond his usual calm demeanor. that. The injured husband goes through all the emotions of jealousy. while she seemed to experience an almost childlike delight in watching it. who. thrilled through the soul of Franz with an effect equal to his first emotions upon hearing it. never even moved. in a frenzy of rage and indignation. leaning forward again on the railing of her box. for the countess." However much the ballet might have claimed his attention. for he left his seat to stand up in front. "Countess. cymbals. until conviction seizes on his mind. though Franz tried his utmost. and then. This duet is one of the most beautiful. betrays to Azzo the secret of her love for Ugo. Franz observed the sleeper slowly arise and approach the Greek girl. after gazing with a puzzled look at his face. and whose voice and figure had seemed so familiar to him. and. unanimous plaudits of an enthusiastic and delighted audience. and the curtain fell amid the loud. during the whole time the piece lasted. he awakens his guilty wife to tell her that he knows her guilt and to threaten her with his vengeance. the pauses between the performances are very short. expressive and terrible conceptions that has ever emanated from the fruitful pen of Donizetti. enthusiastic applause that followed. animated looks contrasting strongly with the utter indifference of her companion." returned Franz. her eager. crashing din produced by the trumpets. and begged to know what had happened. and his eyes turned from the box containing the Greek girl and her strange companion to watch the business of the stage. The curtain rose. I must now beseech you to inform me who and what . his hands fell by his sides. Franz now listened to it for the third time. she became as absorbed as before in what was going on. and Chinese bells sounded their loudest from the orchestra. "I asked you a short time since if you knew any particulars respecting the Albanian lady opposite. and the half-uttered "bravos" expired on his lips. at the first sound of the leader's bow across his violin. enjoying soft repose and bright celestial dreams. Franz rose with the audience. when necessary. so that. The overture to the second act began. burst into a fit of laughter. Franz had no difficulty in recognizing him as the mysterious inhabitant of Monte Cristo. Most of my readers are aware that the second act of "Parisina" opens with the celebrated and effective duet in which Parisina. his countenance being fully revealed. so tenderly expressive and fearfully grand as the wretched husband and wife give vent to their different griefs and passions. but was. Owing to the very judicious plan of dividing the two acts of the opera with a ballet. and then. influenced the moving mass--the ballet was called "Poliska. while the dancers are executing their pirouettes and exhibiting their graceful steps. The countenance of the person who had addressed her remained so completely in the shade. Of this he took no heed. totally unheeding her raillery. All doubt of his identity was now at an end. not even when the furious. the singers in the opera having time to repose themselves and change their costume. The surprise and agitation occasioned by this full confirmation of Franz's former suspicion had no doubt imparted a corresponding expression to his features. but suddenly his purpose was arrested. while sleeping. The occupant of the box in which the Greek girl sat appeared to share the universal admiration that prevailed. he could not distinguish a single feature. as far as appearances might be trusted. yet its notes. The ballet at length came to a close. who turned around to say a few words to him. Franz was too deeply occupied with the beautiful Greek to take any note of it. and the attention of Franz was attracted by the actors.

shrugging up her beautiful shoulders. "what do you think of our opposite neighbor?" "Why. taking up the lorgnette. "that those who have once seen that man will never be likely to forget him. pray do. after the countess had a second time directed her lorgnette at the box. I depend upon you to escort me home." whispered Franz." "And I can well understand. or what?" "I fancy I have seen him before. bore in his looks that cast of inauspicious melancholy by which the physiognomists of that time pretended to distinguish those who were predestined to a violent and unhappy death. felt the same unaccountable awe and misgiving." continued the countess. ch. indeed." replied Franz. seems to me as though he had just been dug up. and even assured me that he had seen them. "Oh." cried the countess." The sensation experienced by Franz was evidently not peculiar to himself." said the countess. although he could but allow that if anything was likely to induce belief in the existence of vampires. whose history I am unable to furnish. "I know no more of him than yourself. xxii. I cannot permit you to go. and directing it toward the box in question. tell us all about--is he a vampire." This fresh allusion to Byron [*] drew a smile to Franz's countenance. he is the exact . than anything human. "Is it possible. and the father of a yet more unfortunate family. of course: "The son of an ill-fated sire. "No. "Byron had the most perfect belief in the existence of vampires. or a resuscitated corpse. "that you entertain any fear?" "I'll tell you. he looks more like a corpse permitted by some friendly grave-digger to quit his tomb for a while." said Franz." answered the countess. and I even think he recognizes me. "Well." said Franz. The description he gave me perfectly corresponds with the features and character of the man before us. "I must positively find out who and what he is. it would be the presence of such a man as the mysterious personage before him. that he is no other than Lord Ruthven himself in a living form. rising from his seat. "you must not leave me. another." "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. "that the gentleman. "All I can say is. as though an involuntary shudder passed through her veins. and wholly uninterested person.is her husband?" "Nay." * Scott. no. and revisit this earth of ours."--The Abbot." inquired Franz." answered the countess. Oh. How ghastly pale he is!" "Oh. for heaven's sake. Oh. he is always as colorless as you now see him. "Then you know him?" almost screamed the countess.

except relinquish my determination of finding out who this man is." "Where he comes from I am ignorant. For that purpose I mean to keep you all to myself. the countess quitted Franz." "I will do anything you desire. pursue your researches if you will.--the same ghastly paleness. Pursue your chase after him to-morrow as eagerly as you please. glittering eyes. go to your rooms. I am quite sure I shall not be able to close my eyes. large bright. a dealer in magical arts. 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." So saying.personification of what I have been led to expect! The coal-black hair. "and do not be so very headstrong. and try to sleep away all recollections of this evening. It was quite evident. For my own part. like himself. "Nay. and therefore cannot possibly remain till the end of the opera. There are certain affinities between the persons we quit and those we meet afterwards." said the countess." There was nothing else left for Franz to do but to take up his hat. Then observe. She is a foreigner--a stranger." said the countess. good-night. and make no attempt to follow this man to-night." "Let us only speak of the promise you wished me to make. and I am sure it does not spring from your heart. for many reasons. I have more reasons than you can imagine for desiring to know who he is. you must give me your word to return immediately to your hotel. it ill accords with the expression of your countenance. Nobody knows who she is. Franz perceived that she had deceived him when she spoke of expecting company. without the least doubt. by her manner. open the door of the box. in reply to her companion's half-reproachful observation on the subject. on the contrary. I entreat of you not to go near him--at least to-night. that I might compose my startled mind. "do not smile. her own return before the appointed hour seemed greatly to astonish the servants. "but that horrid man had made me feel quite uncomfortable. too. Upon arriving at her hotel. "Excuse my little subterfuge. unearthly fire seems burning. originally created in her mind by the wild tales she had listened to till she believed them truths." said Franz. and Franz himself could not resist a feeling of superstitious dread--so much the stronger in him. Now. as it arose from a variety of corroborative recollections. in which a wild. "Listen to me. if you would not see me die of terror." said she. and offer the countess his arm. "Well. and I longed to be alone. but never bring him near me. promise me one thing. and if to-morrow your curiosity still continues as great. I have a party at my house to-night. and is." Franz protested he could not defer his pursuit till the following day. I say. while the terror of the countess sprang from an instinctive belief. Franz could even feel her arm tremble as he assisted her into the carriage. but I can readily tell you where he is going to. or where she comes from. then. No doubt she belongs to the same horrible race he does. that her uneasiness was not feigned. However. do not serve as a conductor between that man and me." "What is it?" "Promise me. from whence he came. and that is down below. that the woman with him is altogether unlike all others of her sex. For heaven's sake. And now. and whither he is going. ." Franz essayed to smile. I am going home. but to-night you neither can nor shall.

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. that tends to confirm my own ideas." "What do you say?" "Nothing." cried he. 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. her reputation would be gone forever. springing up. "My dear fellow." "At what? At the sight of that respectable gentleman sitting opposite to us in the same box with the lovely Greek girl? Now." "He spoke the Romaic language. is because they live so much in public. I was arranging a little surprise for you. I met them in the lobby after the conclusion of the piece. Of what nature?" . Did he speak in your hearing? and did you catch any of his words?" "I did. you must have perceived that the countess was really alarmed." "Upon my soul. certainly. from the cut of his clothes. you know. past all doubt. Why. nothing. Why. "Well. Upon his return to the hotel. "I am glad of this opportunity to tell you. But tell me." "My dear Albert. paleness is always looked upon as a strong proof of aristocratic descent and distinguished breeding. these women would puzzle the very Devil to read them aright. once and forever." "Indeed. but they were uttered in the Romaic dialect. but then. I feel quite sure." murmured Franz. "is it really you? Why. and hang me. "'Tis he. Franz found Albert in his dressing-gown and slippers. they are made by a first-rate Paris tailor--probably Blin or Humann. I can assure you that this hobgoblin of yours is a deuced fine-looking fellow--admirably dressed. if I can guess where you took your notions of the other world from." "That settles it. what were you thinking about when I came in?" "Oh." "And the very reason why the women of this fine country put so little restraint on their words and actions. if a Parisian were to indulge in a quarter of these marks of flattering attention. He was rather too pale." replied Franz. for my part. smoking a cigar. Indeed. that you entertain a most erroneous notion concerning Italian women." said Franz. listlessly extended on a sofa. for he well remembered that Albert particularly prided himself on the entire absence of color in his own complexion. "that the countess's suspicions were destitute alike of sense and reason. or whether her fears and agitations were genuine. did he?" "I think so.leaving him unable to decide whether she were merely amusing herself at his expense. here--they give you their hand--they press yours in return--they keep up a whispering conversation--permit you to accompany them home. I knew that from the mixture of Greek words. and have really nothing to conceal. Besides.

"you deserve to be called out for such a misgiving and incredulous glance as that you were pleased to bestow on me just now." "Well." "And a pair of oxen?" "As easily found as the cart." "And have you communicated your triumphant idea to anybody?" "Only to our host. and if you and I dress ourselves as Neapolitan reapers."Why." replied Albert with gratified pride. I am bound to give you credit for having hit upon a most capital idea. ye Romans! you thought to make us." "Well. "this time. after the manner of that splendid picture by Leopold Robert. Albert. like so many lazzaroni." "Very possibly." "You agree." "Now. hearken to me. with a cart and a couple of oxen our business can be managed. trot at the heels of your processions. now." cried Albert. but have failed. more especially as the countess is quite beautiful enough to represent a madonna." "Then you see. in this difficulty a bright idea has flashed across my brain. "I tell you what." "And I promise to give you the satisfaction of a gentleman if your scheme turns out as ingenious as you assert. then." Franz looked at Albert as though he had not much confidence in the suggestions of his imagination. and I also know that we have done all that human means afforded to endeavor to get one." "Neither can we procure horses?" "True. because no carriages or horses are to be had in your beggarly city. Our group would then be quite complete. and I then explained to him what I wished to procure." "Certainly. we have offered any sum. when we can't have one thing we invent another." "Well. unhappy strangers. Ha. Sir Franz. too. But you don't know us. that obtaining a carriage is out of the question?" "I do." "I listen. He assured me that nothing ." "And quite a national one. do you not. my good fellow." said Franz. then. what do you say to a cart? I dare say such a thing might be had. you know it is quite impossible to procure a carriage. we may get up a striking tableau. The cart must be tastefully ornamented. Upon my return home I sent for him. It would add greatly to the effect if the countess would join us in the costume of a peasant from Puzzoli or Sorrento. "A mere masque borrowed from our own festivities. ha.

" "Then he will be able to give us an answer to-night." "Oh." returned Signor Pastrini in a tone indicative of unbounded self-confidence. "Speak out. there's a worthy fellow. "Permesso?" inquired he. One thing I was sorry for. he would have conveyed his invitation through another channel.would be easier than to furnish all I desired." The friends looked at each other with unutterable surprise. "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. "Take care. swelling with importance. that he is noble as a Borghese and rich as a gold-mine. then. and the head of Signor Pastrini appeared. mine host." exclaimed Albert. and not permitted it to be brought to us in this unceremonious way. he told me there would not be time." said Franz." "When. "have you found the desired cart and oxen?" "Better than that!" replied Signor Pastrini. with the air of a man perfectly well satisfied with himself." said Albert." asked Albert. like two poor students in the back streets of Paris. hearing of the dilemma in which you are placed. "since it is owing to that circumstance that we are packed into these small rooms." "Now. He would have . "that the Count of Monte Cristo is living on the same floor with yourselves!" "I should think we did know it. by to-morrow it might be too late." "Let your excellencies only leave the matter to me. "Come in. "better is a sure enemy to well. but this I know." "And where is he now?" "Who?" "Our host." "It seems to me. has sent to offer you seats in his carriage and two places at his windows in the Palazzo Rospoli." At this instant the door opened. as it would require three days to do that." asked Albert eagerly." "Your excellencies are aware. but whether Maltese or Sicilian I cannot exactly say." cried Franz. so you see we must do without this little superfluity. when I bade him have the horns of the oxen gilded. I expect him every minute." "Gone out in search of our equipage." responded the landlord. then. "Certainly--certainly. the Count of Monte Cristo. speaking in an undertone to Albert. "that if this person merited the high panegyrics of our landlord. "A very great nobleman. "But what have you done?" asked Franz. my worthy host. "But do you think.

possessed the ring of Gyges." "Tell the count. who had not the same motives for early rising. then he should be able to establish his identity. and he will be honored by an intimation of what time they will please to receive him." replied Franz. Franz d'Epinay." said Albert. "that we will do ourselves the pleasure of calling on him. "You were quite correct in what you said." The truth was. 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. the windows in the Palazzo Rospoli alone decided me. "Pray. "there is not much to find fault with here. and. Franz?" "Oh. Franz. "Come in. he said." "Faith. by way of recompense for the loss of our beautiful scheme. "That is what I call an elegant mode of attack. who forthwith presented them to the two young men. from the Count of Monte Cristo to Viscomte Albert de Morcerf and M. was still soundly asleep. Eight o'clock found Franz up and dressed. "I had no such intention. while Albert. The first act of Franz was to summon his landlord. I don't know but what I should have held on by my original plan. A servant. and even if I had ." said Franz. you are much too late. who presented himself with his accustomed obsequiousness. "Please to deliver these." replied Albert.written--or"-At this instant some one knocked at the door. "Still. I agree with you. wearing a livery of considerable style and richness. Signor Pastrini." continued the servant. in which the stranger in the cloak had undertaken to obtain the freedom of a condemned criminal. your excellency. Franz passed the night in confused dreams respecting the two meetings he had already had with his mysterious tormentor. and also to prosecute his researches respecting him with perfect facility and freedom. and unless his near neighbor and would-be friend." "Oh. "Of course we do. "is not some execution appointed to take place to-day?" "Yes. The Count of Monte Cristo is unquestionably a man of first-rate breeding and knowledge of the world." whispered Albert. and in waking speculations as to what the morrow would produce. appeared at the threshold." asked Franz. the Count of Monte Cristo." "Then you accept his offer?" said the host. 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 servant bowed and retired. Signor Pastrini. and by its power was able to render himself invisible. placing two cards in the landlord's hands. What say you. 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. The next day must clear up every doubt. The Count of Monte Cristo. it was very certain he could not escape this time." answered Franz. but if your reason for inquiry is that you may procure a window to view it from. "begs these gentlemen's permission to wait upon them as their neighbor. no.

their names. I might have done so from Monte Pincio--could I not?" "Ah!" exclaimed mine host. dear.felt a wish to witness the spectacle. indeed. Meanwhile. that all good and faithful Catholics may offer up their prayers for the unfortunate culprits. by order of the Tribunal of the Rota. my most excellent host. "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. taking the tablet from the wall. February 23d. "but in case I feel disposed. above all. beseech of heaven to grant them a sincere repentance. "I have caused one to be placed on the landing. who read as follows:-"'The public is informed that on Wednesday. no." "Upon my word. oblige me by a sight of one of these tavolettas. and you may rely upon me to proclaim so striking a proof of your attention to your guests wherever I go. of two persons. "Oh." returned the landlord. the number of persons condemned to suffer. give me some particulars of to-day's executions. chuckling and rubbing his hands with infinite complacency. their crimes. on which is pasted up a paper containing the names of the condemned persons. which. "I did not think it likely your excellency would have chosen to mingle with such a rabble as are always collected on that hill. named ." "And these tablets are brought to you that you may add your prayers to those of the faithful. close by your apartment. "Why. are they?" asked Franz somewhat incredulously. The reason for so publicly announcing all this is. and he brings them to me as he would the playbills." "Very possibly I may not go. executions will take place in the Piazza del Popolo. and description of the death they are to die. your excellency! Only a few minutes ago they brought me the tavolettas. being the first day of the Carnival." "What particulars would your excellency like to hear?" "Why. your excellency! I have not time for anybody's affairs but my own and those of my honorable guests." "Nothing can be easier than to comply with your excellency's wish. he handed it to Franz." answered Franz." Then. he may obtain every requisite information concerning the time and place etc. and. opening the door of the chamber. and mode of punishment." "I see that plainly enough. your excellency. they consider as exclusively belonging to themselves." cried Franz." "What are they?" "Sort of wooden tablets hung up at the corners of streets the evening before an execution. but I make an agreement with the man who pastes up the papers." said the landlord. that is a most delicate attention on your part." "That happens just lucky. Signor Pastrini. that in case any person staying at my hotel should like to witness an execution.

" The landlord preceded the friends across the landing. the former found guilty of the murder of a venerable and exemplary priest. and invited them to enter." "Well. named Don Cesare Torlini. and to grant them a hearty and sincere repentance for their crimes. I am quite sure. canon of the church of St. that it may please God to awaken them to a sense of their guilt. his friend entered the room in perfect costume for the day. and Peppino. are you ready. "I will let the count know that you are here. The prayers of all good Christians are entreated for these unfortunate men. "The Count of Monte Cristo is always an early riser.'" This was precisely what Franz had heard the evening before in the ruins of the Colosseum. no doubt. and the softest and most inviting couches. The anticipated delights of the Carnival had so run in his head as to make him leave his pillow long before his usual hour. John Lateran. and his band. Albert?" "Perfectly." "Let us go and return our best thanks for his courtesy. "Now. my excellent Signor Pastrini. addressing his landlord. all agreed with his previous information. however. the sound of a guzla reached the ears of . as he had already done at Porto-Vecchio and Tunis. easy-chairs. let us do so. therefore." replied he. then. Luigi Vampa. otherwise called Rocca Priori. and I can answer for his having been up these two hours. and the man shrouded in the mantle the same he had known as "Sinbad the Sailor. and sofas. the second culprit beheaded. and Franz deemed it advisable to awaken Albert. and. No part of the programme differed. As the door opened. while heavy curtains of costly tapestry were suspended before the different doors of the room. was still pursuing his philanthropic expedition in Rome. offered their high-piled and yielding cushions to such as desired repose or refreshment. Time was getting on. which was all that separated them from the apartments of the count. The richest Turkey carpets covered the floor. intermingled with magnificent trophies of war. They passed through two rooms. The first-named malefactor will be subjected to the mazzuola. furnished in a luxurious manner they had not expected to see under the roof of Signor Pastrini. "since we are both ready.Andrea Rondola. the Transteverin was no other than the bandit Luigi Vampa himself. Splendid paintings by the first masters were ranged against the walls. upon the door being opened by a servant." "Yes. "If your excellencies will please to be seated." "Then you really consider we shall not be intruding if we pay our respects to him directly?" "Oh. do you think we may proceed at once to visit the Count of Monte Cristo?" "Most assuredly. I will take all the blame on myself if you find I have led you into an error. and were shown into an elegantly fitted-up drawing-room. if it be so." said the man." said Franz. their crimes.--the names of the condemned persons. In all probability." but who. and the latter convicted of being an accomplice of the atrocious and sanguinary bandit." And with these words he disappeared behind one of the tapestried portieres. but at the moment he prepared to proceed to his chamber. rang at the bell. "I signori Francesi. and mode of punishment." The domestic bowed respectfully. said.

for in the person of him who had just entered he recognized not only the mysterious visitant to the Colosseum. La Mazzolata. my dear fellow. while the count had no hold on Franz. alone and isolated as I am. I seek every opportunity of making the acquaintance of my neighbors. He did not mention a syllable of your embarrassment to me. I most eagerly seized the opportunity of offering my services. found nothing to say." said Franz to his friend. "what think you of all this?" "Why. that I did not sooner assist you in your distress. "Count." returned the count. Moreover. "you have offered us places in your carriage. "we shall ascertain who and what he is--he comes!" As Franz spoke. 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. Albert instantly rose to meet him. but Franz remained. he had this advantage. he did not know whether to make any allusion to the past. and almost immediately afterwards the tapestry was drawn aside. and I have held myself at your disposal. therefore. besides." said he. then at the gorgeous furnishings of the apartment. Chapter 35. Franz had. hush!" replied Franz. you sent me word that you would come to me. but I feared to disturb you by presenting myself earlier at your apartments. motioning the two young men to sit down." The two young men bowed. although sure it was he who had been in the box the previous evening. or some prince travelling incog." said the Count of Monte Cristo as he entered. "Gentlemen. "It was the fault of that blockhead Pastrini. who had nothing to conceal." "Hush. he had come to no determination. to let things take their course without making any direct overture to the count." "Indeed. count. and as nothing in the count's manner manifested the wish that he should recognize him.the young men. upon my soul. Can you tell us where we can obtain a sight of the Piazza del Popolo?" . when he knows that. besides. he could not be equally positive that this was the man he had seen at the Colosseum. As soon as I learned I could in any way assist you. Everything seemed more magnificent at a second view than it had done at their first rapid survey. and we were on the point of inventing a very fantastic vehicle when your friendly invitation reached us. spellbound on his chair." returned Albert. he resolved to lead the conversation to a subject which might possibly clear up his doubts. He resolved. as yet." "Franz and I have to thank you a thousand times. "you extricated us from a great dilemma. for the rapid closing of the door merely allowed one rich swell of harmony to enter. he heard the sound of a door turning on its hinges. but was almost immediately lost. in a manner. "I pray you excuse me for suffering my visit to be anticipated. and the occupant of the box at the Teatro Argentino. but also his extraordinary host of Monte Cristo. "Well. and the owner of all these riches stood before the two young men. Franz and Albert looked inquiringly at each other. and at your windows in the Rospoli Palace. he was master of the count's secret. or wait until he had more proof. However.

but he did not appear to recognize him. "Monsieur Bertuccio." "Did I not tell you I wished for one?" replied the count. Monsieur Bertuccio. "will. Give orders to the coachman. and Peppino. and be in readiness on the stairs to conduct us to it. "with the employment of time and the means of simplifying the summoning your servants? I have. convicted of complicity with the detestable bandit Luigi Vampa." The steward bowed." continued the count." "There is no need to do that. M. "we shall abuse your kindness. "is there not something like an execution upon the Piazza del Popolo?" "Yes. excellency. for my steward. perhaps I can render you this slight service also. These gentlemen. guilty of murder on the person of the respected and venerated Don Cesare Torlini. Bertuccio. I think I told my steward yesterday to attend to this. "Did you ever occupy yourself. taking out his tablets. for my majordomo." "Not at all. canon of the church of St. 'that to-day." continued the count." added he. "Stay. "Ah. the 23d of February. as I ordered you yesterday." "Yes. and was about to quit the room. M. in the same tone with which he would have read a newspaper." . "you have procured me windows looking on the Piazza del Popolo. exactly resembling the smuggler who had introduced Franz into the cavern. "but it was very late. John Lateran. the second decapitato. and copied it down. thrice.' Hum! 'The first will be mazzolato." A man of about forty-five or fifty entered. finding that the count was coming to the point he wished. do me the honor to breakfast with me?" "But." He then took Franz's tablets out of his hand. but I think since yesterday some change has taken place in the order of the ceremony. one or other of you. frowning." said Albert." said Franz. "And your excellency has one. it is for my valet. You will. but I was obliged to pay a hundred"-"That will do--that will do. and the men of his band. called Rocca Priori. I passed the evening at the Cardinal Rospigliosi's. I trust. You have the window. return it to me at Paris. that is sufficient. and if he can send us an account of the execution. twice. "for I saw the account. which was let to Prince Lobanieff."Ah.' Yes. It was evident he had his orders." returned the steward. and there mention was made of something like a pardon for one of the two men. and rang the bell thrice. When I ring once. perhaps both. lay covers for three.' he read.--thus I do not waste a minute or a word." He extended his hand." "Very well. "Yes." "Really?" said Franz. "be good enough to ask Pastrini if he has received the tavoletta. but let us know when breakfast is ready. will be executed Andrea Rondolo. spare these gentlemen all such domestic arrangements. you will give me great pleasure. you can retire. Here he is. turning to the two friends." said the count. "'We announce." returned Franz. on the contrary. "it was at first arranged in this way. Bertuccio. my dear count." said he to Franz." said the count negligently. looking attentively at Morcerf.

temperaments. left a desolation. is it not then. as the blood would to the face of any other. avenges death by death.--the more men you see die." said the count." * Guillotine. your betrothed." continued the count. "that where society." said the count coldly. in a contemptuous tone. is very simple." "I do not quite understand you. "pray explain your meaning. as you must know." "Why so? In life. they are in the infancy. "No. while the other. in your breast. "one would think that you had studied the different tortures of all the nations of the world. or rather the old age. death may be a torture. carelessly. the second indifference. called Rocca Priori. But are there not a thousand tortures by which a man may be made to suffer without society taking the least cognizance of them.--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." added the count. "Really. a wound that never closes. count. she can give blood in return for blood. I know. curious to study the different ways by which the soul and body can part. our greatest preoccupation is death. the third curiosity. "do not tell me of European punishments. for Peppino. "And you took pleasure in beholding these dreadful spectacles?" "My first sentiment was horror."For Andrea Rondolo?" asked Franz. and allows him who has caused us years of moral sufferings to escape with a few moments of physical pain?" "Yes. "for the other (he glanced at the tablets as if to recall the name). attacked by the death of a person." said Franz." replied Franz. and deep hatred mounted to his face. and how. of cruelty. and even the second. or offering him even the insufficient means of vengeance. the easier it becomes to die yourself." replied the count. that is all. of which we have just spoken? ." "I will put another case to you. Ah. but it is not an expiation. when torn from you.--a being who. "If a man had by unheard-of and excruciating tortures destroyed your father. The mandaia [*] never fails. from existence to annihilation? As for myself." "Listen. for you excite my curiosity to the highest pitch. but the mazzuola still remains. according to their different characters. I can assure you of one thing. never strikes thirty times ineffectually. "that human justice is insufficient to console us." replied Franz." "There are. and to whose tender mercy Richelieu had doubtless recommended the sufferer. You are thus deprived of seeing a man guillotined. different persons bear the transition from life to death." "Curiosity--that is a terrible word. your mother. and even the different customs of their countries. but you must demand from her only what it is in her power to grant. like the soldier who beheaded the Count of Chalais. and in my opinion. few that I have not seen. never trembles. at least. which is a very curious punishment when seen for the first time.

but." "Then you disapprove of duelling? You would not fight a duel?" asked Albert in his turn. thanks to my skill in all bodily exercises. an eye for an eye. not if he be rich and skilful. and the more so that. moreover. were it possible. for here comes the servant to inform us that breakfast is ready. astonished at this strange theory. "had I to avenge myself. "and it is to punish them that duelling is tolerated." "But. and which are unpunished by society? Answer me. an existence of misery and infamy. but in return for a slow. "a pleasant manner. gentlemen. as the Orientalists say. are inadequate tortures. and whether it is worth even mentioning. a servant opened one of the four doors of the apartment. the augers of the Persians. and which the philanthropic French Revolution has substituted for being torn to pieces by horses or broken on the wheel. a tooth for a tooth.--our masters in everything." "Yes." As he spoke. for an insult. do not these crimes exist?" "Yes. And remember. and despair in your heart. I should be almost certain to kill my man. if he be poor and inexperienced. really this is a most singular conversation for the Carnival. and you think you are avenged because you send a ball through the head." answered Franz. or pass a sword through the breast. What matters this punishment. a man has dishonored your daughter. but whether with his usual carelessness he had paid but little attention to . I recollect. I would fight a duel for a trifle." cried the count." replied the count. it would be difficult to adopt a course that would forever prevent your falling under the power of the law. you shall have it." continued the count. "Oh. how did it arise? Ah. eternal torture. upon my soul.--those favored creatures who have formed for themselves a life of dreams and a paradise of realities. Hatred is blind. that it is often he who comes off victorious from the strife. I would give back the same. for a blow. a man has seduced your wife. of arriving at your end when that end is vengeance! A man has carried off your mistress. No. saying--"Al suo commodo!" The two young men arose and entered the breakfast-room." said Franz to the count. but let us first sit down to table. yes. Franz looked repeatedly at Albert. you asked for a place at my window. I almost regret that in all probability this miserable Peppino will not be beheaded. "with this theory. which renders you at once judge and executioner of your own cause." "Ah. 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. duelling. and the indifference to danger I have gradually acquired. no. I would fight for such a cause. besides. as you might have had an opportunity then of seeing how short a time the punishment lasts. of that man who has planted madness in your brain. Oh. rage carries you away. "understand me.Are there not crimes for which the impalement of the Turks. in order to observe the impressions which he doubted not had been made on him by the words of their entertainer. and admirably served. the worst that could happen to him would be the punishment of which we have already spoken. the stake and the brand of the Iroquois Indians. it is not thus I would take revenge. During the meal. profound. absolved of all crime in the eyes of the world. which was excellent. as long as he is avenged? On my word. and he who pours out vengeance runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught.

he just touched the dishes. when a churchman is killed. it is to see everything. it is no reason because you have not seen an execution at Paris." "Opposite the scaffold?" "The scaffold forms part of the fete. it should be with a different weapon than a log." "After the execution?" cried Franz. for I had quitted college the same morning. "Before or after. suppose it is a bull-fight you are going to see? Recollect the ancient Romans of . they say that the culprit is an infamous scoundrel. 'I do not know'! And. he seemed to fulfil the duties of a host by sitting down with his guests. "You lips have been will will more able describe it to me. I have reflected on the matter. the worst in the world. that you should not see one anywhere else. 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. but I think I was rather intoxicated that day." said Franz. and it is absolutely necessary to procure them. "and the recital from your make as great an impression on me as if I had witnessed it. a private room in the Piazza del Popolo. I will have whatever costumes you choose brought to us." replied Franz. 'How do they execute at Rome?' and you reply. when you travel. Diable. Albert?" "I. besides." "Do not concern yourself about that. but I shall content myself with accepting a place in your carriage and at your window at the Rospoli Palace. Think what a figure you will make when you are asked. count. he remarked that his companion did not pay the least regard to them. This brought back to Franz.--"I saw Castaing executed. and you." "Count." "But I warn you. As for the count. especially when he has behaved like a father. At the end of the breakfast Franz took out his watch. whether the explanation of the Count of Monte Cristo with regard to duelling had satisfied him. and we had passed the previous night at a tavern. I than once intended witnessing an execution. and I leave you at liberty to dispose of my place at the Piazza del Popolo." replied the viscount." returned Franz. "I thank you for your courtesy." returned the count. whichever you please." "Besides. the recollection of the terror with which the count had inspired the Countess G----. in spite of himself. and you can dress there. "Well. and awaited their departure to be served with some strange or more delicate food. we have." "What may that be?" "We have no masks." said the count. I think. you will lose a very curious sight.him. If you went to Spain. who killed with a log of wood a worthy canon who had brought him up like his own son. but I have never to make up my mind. and her firm conviction that the man in the opposite box was a vampire. "but we have still much to do. or whether the events which Franz knew of had had their effect on him alone. would you not see the bull-fight? Well. "what are you doing?" "You must excuse us.

Is this possible. will you return to the salon? you will find good cigars on the centre table. Think of the eighty thousand applauding spectators. "I think he is a delightful fellow."--Albert reflected. myself." "Is it important that you should go that way?" "Yes. sending a volume of smoke up towards the ceiling. by the Strada del Babuino. and as Franz well knew that Albert professed never to form an opinion except upon long reflection. left by another door. and uttered a cry of joy at perceiving some veritable puros. I hesitated. the count takes me for a . evidently surprised at such a question from his companion. "what think you of the Count of Monte Cristo?" "What do I think?" said Albert. 'Come. and my clothes are of a most antiquated cut. but the count's eloquence decides me.'" "Shall you go. like Brutus. again apologizing. read much. then. who does the honors of his table admirably. Albert?" asked Franz. and moreover. count?" "On foot." added he. like you." "Let us go. and who had considered it no small sacrifice to be deprived of the cigars of the Cafe de Paris. through the Corso." "Well. "But. Albert. the sage matrons who took their daughters. yes." said a servant. "since you wish it. and the charming Vestals who made with the thumb of their white hands the fatal sign that said. I will be with you directly. then. "I know who he is. gentlemen." replied he. we will go by the Corso. "a man in the dress of a penitent wishes to speak to you. for I shall be glad to pass. "Ma foi." "Ah. while the count. I wish to pass through the Corso. "did you observe one very singular thing?" "What?" "How attentively he looked at you." said Franz. to see if some orders I have given have been executed." said he.the Circus. then. "that is not very surprising. he made no attempt to change it. We will send the carriage to wait for us on the Piazza del Popolo. "Ah. who was a great smoker." "Excellency." "At me?" "Yes. despatch the dying." asked Franz. I have been more than a year absent from Paris. yes" returned the count. of the Stoic school." Such was Albert's opinion of the count. approached the table. no. in a carriage. "that he has excellent cigars. is. yes. sighing." The young men rose and returned into the salon. opening the door. there is something I wish to see. but on our way to the Piazza del Popolo. who has travelled much. and the sports where they killed three hundred lions and a hundred men. "Well." "I will go on foot.

and by the terrible instrument that was in the centre." All three descended. The first opportunity you have. on account of the confetti (sweetmeats). "I am now quite at your service. and we will go another. but the masks were visible behind the windows. I will return all this. The three windows were still untenanted. which marks the centre of the square. situated between the Via del Babuino and the Monte Pincio." said he. which the count had doubtless wished to conceal from his guests." returned Albert. The side windows were hung with yellow damask. de Morcerf. and the doors. scaffolds were raised. and drove down the Via del Babuino. "Which are your windows?" asked he of the count. Albert. and tell him I am nothing of the kind. by the Corso. As they approached the Piazza del Popolo. "The three last." said the count to the two friends. and they are most suitable. of a small dressing-room. del Babuino. Franz. The window. and he perhaps did not fully appreciate this new attention to their wishes. and since you allow me. and windows were hung with flags. let at an exorbitant price. and that is all the . and above the heads of the multitude two objects were visible: the obelisk. Come. with as much indifference as he could assume. undeceive him. when the door of communication was shut. which is shaped like a crescent. the two uprights of the scaffold. I intend going there soon. falls from a less height. "As you left the choice of your costumes to me. for he had not forgotten the signal agreed upon between the man in the mantle and the Transtevere peasant. at the point where the three streets. the carriages could not move about. and. and the count continued to descend the Corso. which led directly between the Fiano and Rospoli palaces. While the three gentlemen walked along the Piazza de Spagni and the Via Frattina. At the corner of the street they met the count's steward. The man in the mantle had kept his promise to the Transteverin. the crowd became more dense. and. if you please. between which glittered the curved knife of the mandaia. "Italian cigars are horrible. meet. with a negligence evidently unaffected. the carriages. chairs were placed. gentlemen. the coachman received his master's orders. for he could not imagine with what intention the question was put. we have not any time to lose. It was the first time Franz had ever seen a guillotine." "With all my heart." returned he. that cuts with the convex side. del Corso. When you come to Paris. On chairs were laid elegant masquerade costumes of blue and white satin. surmounted by a cross." "I will not refuse. it is half-past twelve--let us set off. "I have had these brought. was on the second floor of the great palace. as they do not show the flour. It consisted. I beg. the inmates were quite alone. and in front of the obelisk." Franz smiled. for he was wholly absorbed by the spectacle that the Piazza del Popolo presented.provincial." Franz heard the words of the count but imperfectly. and di Ripetta. [*] The knife. an instant after the count entered. M. Franz's attention was directed towards the windows of that last palace. Franz glanced rapidly towards the three windows. as they will be the most worn this year. I will pay you a visit. Preparations were making on every side. and there could now be no doubt that he was the count. as we have said. and the centre one with white damask and a red cross. because the Roman mandaia is formed on almost the same model as the French instrument. Take some more of these cigars. "The carriage is going one way to the Piazza del Popolo. The masks could not appear.--we say guillotine. opening into a bedroom. who was awaiting his master.

difference. Peppino walked with a firm step. his black eyes especially were full of kindness and pity. clothed from head to foot in robes of gray sackcloth. such as Franz had never before witnessed in them. Andrea was short and fat. although he had not half smoked it. "that you told me there would be . A double line of carbineers. Behind the penitents came a man of vast stature and proportions. It was evident that the execution was. appeared first. in the eyes of the people. with the exception of cloth drawers at the left side of which hung a large knife in a sheath. and seemed on the watch to see on which side his liberator would appear. disclosed his white teeth. At this sight alone Franz felt his legs tremble under him. One of them lifted the plank. took out a flask of wine. were eating their breakfasts. He looked at Albert--he was as white as his shirt. that was impelled towards the portico. only the commencement of the Carnival. in a chapel closed by a grating. did not indicate age. the two culprits advanced. His nostrils dilated like those of a wild beast that scents its prey. moreover. bronzed by the sun. seated on the movable plank on which the victim is laid. leaving a path about ten feet wide. laughter and jests arose from the crowd. He had. Guillotin got the idea of his famous machine from witnessing an execution in Italy. transported the previous evening from the Carcere Nuovo to the little church of Santa Maria del Popolo. first Peppino and then Andrea. the balconies of the two churches at the corner of the Via del Babuino and the Via di Ripetta were crammed. All the rest of the square was paved with heads. placed on each side of the door of the church." said Franz to the count. and then passed it to his companion. Each was accompanied by two priests. reached to the scaffold. This man was the executioner. small and sharp like those of a jackal. while waiting for the criminal. The prisoners. his legs bent beneath him. and he bore on his right shoulder a heavy iron sledge-hammer. A brotherhood of penitents. as if by magic. The count alone seemed unmoved--nay. the chief marched at the head. and his movements were apparently automatic and unconscious. At this sight Franz felt the perspiration start forth upon his brow. Peppino was a handsome young man of four or five and twenty. and around the guillotine a space of nearly a hundred feet. In prison he had suffered his beard to grow. * Dr. and the doors of the church opened. Behind the executioner came. and formed a circle around it. in the order in which they were to die. more. marked with brutal cruelty. had passed the night. Suddenly the tumult ceased. and thus the children had the best view. and holding in their hands lighted tapers. What the count said was true--the most curious spectacle in life is that of death. Many women held their infants on their shoulders. And yet his features wore an expression of smiling tenderness. Two men. Each of them. and his lips. drank some. he might be thirty. before which were two sentinels. The Monte Pincio seemed a vast amphitheatre filled with spectators. and as they approached their faces became visible. his visage. kissed the crucifix a confessor held out to them. Andrea was supported by two priests. instead of the silence and the solemnity demanded by the occasion. And yet. However. his head fell on his shoulder. doubtless aware of what awaited him. Neither had his eyes bandaged. "I thought. every niche in the wall held its living statue. the steps even seemed a parti-colored sea. He was naked. Their repast consisted apparently of bread and sausages. a slight color seemed striving to rise in his pale cheeks. sandals bound on his feet by cords. with holes for the eyes. he carried his head erect. each accompanied by two priests. half opened. and mechanically cast away his cigar. from time to time. These two men were the executioner's assistants. who were relieved at intervals.

You have no right to put me to death alone." cried the count. there is no time to lose. But man--man. who read and returned it to him. upon whom God has laid his first. "Heaven be praised. Peppino remained breathless. who seemed roused from the torpor in which he had been plunged." "If the pardon is to come. The executioner made a sign. unfolded it. a priest arrived in some haste.but one execution. as all the talk was in the Roman dialect. and." "I told you true. gave him a folded paper. and. and striving desperately to break the cords that bound his hands. here it is. look. Oh. "And yet here are two culprits. and his two assistants leaped from the scaffold and seized him. "What is going on?" asked Franz of the count. The piercing eye of Peppino had noticed all." "Yes. 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. this masterpiece of nature. this king of the creation!" And the count burst into a laugh. extending his clinched hands towards the crowd. his sole commandment. 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. Do you know what gave him strength?--do you know what consoled him? It was. Honor to man. "For Peppino!" cried Andrea. he had not perfectly understood it. and that at all times you are worthy of yourselves!" Meanwhile Andrea and the two executioners were struggling on the ground." cried the count. but only one of these two is about to die. And he passed the paper to the officer commanding the carbineers. the other has many years to live. and he kept exclaiming. two oxen to the slaughterhouse. seizing the young men's hands--"look. to love his neighbor--man. "Pardon for whom?" cried he. the ox will bellow with joy. whom God created in his own image--man. Lead two sheep to the butcher's. I will not die alone--I will not!" And he broke from the priests struggling and raving like a wild beast. "that this human creature who is about to die is furious that his fellow-sufferer does not perish with him? and. Here is a man who had resigned himself to his fate. forced his way through the soldiers." "And see. "here is a pardon for one of the prisoners!" "A pardon!" cried the people with one voice--"a pardon!" At this cry Andrea raised his head. for. At the moment when Peppino reached the foot of the mandaia." said the count. advancing to the chief of the brotherhood. that showed he must have suffered . and make one of them understand that his companion will not die." said the principal friar. I was promised he should die with me." said he in a loud voice. man. The chief took the paper. "Why for him and not for me? We ought to die together. were he able. "A pardon for Peppino. that another partook of his punishment--that another partook of his anguish--that another was to die before him. the sheep will bleat for pleasure. a terrible laugh. man--race of crocodiles. who was going to the scaffold to die--like a coward. "how well do I recognize you there. "He ought to die!--he shall die!--I will not die alone!" "Look. for on my soul it is curious." replied he coldly. called Rocca Priori. it is true. but he was about to die without resistance. and his holiness also. raising his hand. "Do you not see?" returned the count.

in spite of his struggles." replied the count. as you see. his bites. only he has remained asleep. At every stroke a jet of blood sprang from the wound. look!" The command was needless. the mace fell on his left temple.horribly to be able thus to laugh. to judge from his pallor. He glanced mechanically towards the square--the scene was wholly changed. then." "It is but a dream. However. During this time the executioner had raised his mace. executioners. the struggle still continued. who. unlike most men. that I have suffered. half fainting. A dull and heavy sound was heard. stamped violently on it with his feet. only the people remained. has yet murdered his benefactor. "Put him to death! put him to death!" Franz sprang back. victims. who was assuming his masquerade costume. "Do you pity him? If you heard the cry of 'Mad dog!' you would take your gun--you would unhesitatingly shoot the poor beast. The two assistants had borne Andrea to the scaffold. all had disappeared. who." said Franz. but sank. wishes to see his companion in captivity perish. This time Franz could contain himself no longer. and his cries. into a seat. and the man dropped like an ox on his face. and twenty thousand voices cried. but the culprit?" "That is a dream also. was ringing a joyous peal. was standing grasping the window-curtains. "Well." "In fact. which only sounds on the pope's decease and the opening of the Carnival. was delighted to see that the general . The executioner let fall his mace. was only guilty of having been bitten by another dog. and the count. like the Avenging Angel! Chapter 36. and who. with his eyes closed. and then turned over on his back. the Carnival has commenced." asked he of the count. who are happy in proportion as they are noticed. the criminal strove to rise. and signed to them to get out of the way. and mounting on his stomach. no--look. drew his knife. had forced him to his knees. but. And yet you pity a man who. he stood in great need. "only. and held him before the window. Franz was fascinated by the horrible spectacle. Make haste and dress yourself. When Franz recovered his senses. scaffold. The count was erect and triumphant. Albert. "this horrible scene has passed away like a dream. and it was dreadful to witness. The Carnival at Rome. and who knows which of you is the most fortunate?" "But Peppino--what has become of him?" "Peppino is a lad of sense. happened?" "Nothing. and with one stroke opened his throat. full of noise and excitement. The bell of Monte Citorio. he saw Albert drinking a glass of water. ere he had time. after all. now unable to kill any one. but the count seized his arm. No. of which. a nightmare." "Yes. because his hands are bound. "what has. while you have awakened. that has disturbed you. and there. The people all took part against Andrea. without being bitten by one of his race. "What are you doing?" said he.

and their windows with flags. yielding to the influence of the scene." returned Albert. He profited by this distraction to slip away among the crowd. and I understand what the count said--that when you have once habituated yourself to a similar spectacle. "Well. with their sarcasms and their missiles. attacking. It must be allowed that Andrea was not very handsome. while it covered Morcerf and his two companions with dust. and seizing handfuls of confetti and sweetmeats. and the real visage is disclosed. dominoes. companions and strangers. incited him to join in the general combat. the Piazza del Popolo presented a spectacle of gay and noisy mirth and revelry. Their toilet finished. and they felt themselves obliged to take part in the noise and confusion. A handful of confetti that came from a neighboring carriage. "But I am really glad to have seen such a sight. At these balconies are three hundred thousand spectators--Romans. dress yourselves. indiscriminately. wealth. A crowd of masks flowed in from all sides. gentlemen. M. "do you feel much inclined to join the revels? Come. and genius. dress yourselves. cast them with all the force and skill he was master of. the hideous scoundrel! Come." said the count. so much were they occupied by the gay and glittering procession they now beheld. the united aristocracy of birth. pantomimists. Italians.attention was directed towards his companion. the carriage awaited them at the door. nosegays." Albert was drawing on the satin pantaloon over his black trousers and varnished boots. Franz and Albert were like men who. pricked his neck and that portion of his face uncovered by his mask like a hundred pins." "Ma foi. The strife had fairly begun. but little by little the general vertigo seized them. harlequins." Franz felt it would be ridiculous not to follow his two companions' example. filled with sweetmeats and bouquets. or did anything but laugh. They fell into the line of carriages. friends and foes. without even thanking the worthy priests who accompanied him. "on the steps of the scaffold death tears off the mask that has been worn through life. and which." "Without reflecting that this is the only moment in which you can study character." said Franz. bordered from one end to the other with lofty palaces. and shower down confetti. and who. as they drink and become intoxicated. Decidedly man is an ungrateful and egotistical animal. in which all the masks around him were engaged. feel a thick veil drawn between the past and the present. They saw. In the streets the lively . confetti. Transteverins. no. fighting. have recourse to wine. Albert. knights. the air seems darkened with the falling confetti and flying flowers. bend over their balconies. or rather continued to see. throwing eggs filled with flour. and fastened on the mask that scarcely equalled the pallor of his own face. descending from the windows. It is difficult to form an idea of the perfect change that had taken place. he had never for an instant shown any appearance of having been moved. with which the carriage was filled. they descended. mummers. to drive away a violent sorrow. or lean from their windows. see. and no one took offence. Imagine the large and splendid Corso. de Morcerf sets you the example. gesticulating. emerging from the doors. But dress yourself. Lovely women. He assumed his costume. screaming. He rose in his turn. strangers from all parts of the world. As for the Count of Monte Cristo. and peasants. From every street and every corner drove carriages filled with clowns. which are returned by bouquets. with their balconies hung with carpets. Instead of the spectacle of gloomy and silent death. and the recollection of what they had seen half an hour before was gradually effaced from the young men's minds. answer frankly. it is the only one that causes you any emotion. the image of what they had witnessed.

he was busily occupied throwing bouquets at a carriage full of Roman peasants that was passing near him. my dear fellow. "you did not see?" "What?" "There. half serious. a lovely face is exhibited. as in Callot's Temptation of St. "I hope the Carnival will not pass without some amends in one shape or the other." "No." "Well. and wish to become spectators of this scene. "Ah. the other ascended towards the Palazzo di Venezia. accidentally or purposely. "Bravo. and while he descended the Piazza del Popolo. Franz looked up--they were opposite the Rospoli Palace. . however. half laughing." We have forgotten to mention." "Laugh if you please--I really think so. I am convinced they are all charming women. in the midst of all this a mask is lifted. Franz thanked the count for his attention. the line of carriages moved on again. Albert seized it. Anthony. and as Franz had no reason to suppose it was meant for him. "in token of your ingratitude." "How unfortunate that you were masked. Albert. bravo. "things go wonderfully. "when you are tired of being actors. "Gentlemen. Doubtless one of the charming females Albert had detected beneath their coquettish disguise was touched by his gallantry. He instantly rose and cast the remainder of the bouquets into the carriage. in spite of Albert's hope." The jest." said he to Franz." said Franz. my carriage. Unfortunately for him. that the count's coachman was attired in a bear-skin. the one hung with white damask with a red cross." "Pardieu. for when Albert and Franz again encountered the carriage with the contadini. "Well. laughing. excepting two or three encounters with the carriage full of Roman peasants." said Franz. and the carriage went triumphantly on. beneath which Franz's imagination easily pictured the beautiful Greek of the Argentina. with which they made grimaces at every one who passed. As for Albert. So I will not abandon this bouquet.--that calash filled with Roman peasants. buffaloes' heads bellow from men's shoulders." said the count. he suffered Albert to retain it. At one of these encounters. as the carriage of the two friends passed her. Albert placed it in his button-hole. "here was an opportunity of making up for past disappointments. she threw a bunch of violets. clapped her hands when she beheld them in his button-hole. the one who had thrown the violets to Albert." "Oh. leaving the vehicle at their disposal. soon appeared to become earnest. springing out. which we would fain follow. At the second turn." returned Franz. and requested permission to withdraw. "there is the beginning of an adventure. This will give a faint idea of the Carnival at Rome. dispose of my coachman. for. exactly resembling Odry's in "The Bear and the Pasha. and. but from which we are separated by troops of fiends. dogs walk on their hind legs." said Franz to him. Albert's mask fell off." But. At the centre window. with spring masks. In the meantime.crowd is dressed in the most fantastic costumes--gigantic cabbages walk gravely about. was a blue domino. you know you have places at my windows." and the two footmen behind were dressed up as green monkeys." replied he. the count stopped the carriage. and my servants. the day passed unmarked by any incident.

he inquired if Signor Pastrini could procure him a tailor. The count had. moreover. to carry the intrigue no farther. the two windows. we have them ready-made. Franz hastened to inquire after the count. but the count and the blue domino had also disappeared. "but remember. The file on the Corso broke the line. passed along the Piazza di Spagni and the Rospoli Palace and stopped at the door of the hotel. and to express regret that he had not returned in sufficient time. Franz questioned Albert as to his intentions. hung with yellow damask. carefully preserved the bunch of violets. Signor Pastrini came to the door to receive his guests. for although the young men made several more turns." The host again assured them they might rely on him. you shall find a collection of costumes with which you will be satisfied. without saying a word. "and for what?" "To make us between now and to-morrow two Roman peasant costumes." "On my word. Leave all to me." returned Albert. then she will give me some sign or other. it was his token reserved for the morrow. and afterwards go and see 'The Algerian Captive. the coachman." said Franz." Albert was right.'" "Agreed. which had turned up one of the neighboring streets. she will find us to-morrow. they did not again see the calash. and proceeded to disencumber themselves of their costumes. but Albert had great projects to put into execution before going to the theatre.Shall I leave you? Perhaps you would prefer being alone?" "No. that both my friend and myself attach the greatest importance to having to-morrow the costumes we have asked for." replied he. and I shall know what I have to do. the fair unknown had resolved. doubtless." "My dear Albert. Albert. but this is quite a French demand. "leave all to our host. drove up it. "I will not be caught like a fool at a first disclosure by a rendezvous under the clock. The two friends sat down to table. charged him to offer the two friends the key of his box at the Argentina. and that it had gone at four o'clock to fetch him from the Rospoli Palace. "A tailor. and that their wishes should be attended to. were still occupied by the persons whom the count had invited. when you awake. and instead of making any answer. we shall find her. Franz and Albert were opposite the Via delle Maratte." "Then I must give up the idea?" "No. If the fair peasant wishes to carry matters any further. as he took off his dress. Then they returned to the Rospoli Palace. but they could not refrain from remarking the difference between the Count of Monte . let us dine quietly. or rather. Signor Pastrini. and to-morrow. he has already proved himself full of resources." returned Albert. 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. but Pastrini reassured him by saying that the Count of Monte Cristo had ordered a second carriage for himself. The host shook his head. "To make you two costumes between now and to-morrow? I ask your excellencies' pardon. and your fair Circe must be very skilful or very powerful if she succeed in changing you into a beast of any kind. as they say at the opera-balls. and in a second all the carriages had disappeared." said Franz." said the host. "you are wise as Nestor and prudent as Ulysses. upon which Franz and Albert mounted to their apartments. At this moment the same bell that had proclaimed the beginning of the mascherata sounded the retreat.

" he said. "given positive orders that the carriage was to remain at their lordships' orders all day. my dear countess." They resolved to profit by the count's courtesy. and they could therefore dispose of it without fear of indiscretion. "Well. to confess that the advantage was not on Pastrini's side. who use their boxes to hold receptions. this morning we breakfasted with him. Albert. then?" "Yes. This precaution taken." "Very well. sat behind. and which was somewhat the worse for the numerous combats they had sustained. During dessert. the two friends went to pay their respects to the countess. 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. in his turn. Albert and Franz looked at each other. Her opera-glass was so fixedly directed towards them. and installed themselves in the count's box." "When?" ." "So much the more reason. and. and you are already the best friends in the world. but tell me how you made his acquaintance? Did any one introduce you to him?" "No." "You know him." "All day?" "Yes." "At least wait until the story has a conclusion." "Tell it to me. Truth compelled Franz. while they substituted evening dress for that which they had on. they went to the theatre. During the first act. hardly giving Franz time to sit down." "How so?" "It is a long story." "Without being so far advanced as that. I prefer complete histories. "it seems you have nothing better to do than to make the acquaintance of this new Lord Ruthven. fearing really to abuse the count's kindness. The servant understood them. availing himself of one of the privileges of the spectators of the Italian theatres. and now we have taken possession of his box." "It would frighten you too much. it was he who introduced himself to us.entered. and ordered the horses to be harnessed. the servant inquired at what time they wished for the carriage. we rode in his carriage all day. "I cannot deny that we have abused his good nature all day. "His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo had.Cristo's table and that of Signor Pastrini." returned Franz. Scarcely had they entered. the Countess G---. and no. when she motioned to Franz to assume the seat of honor." said she. in spite of the dislike he seemed to have taken to the count. that Franz saw it would be cruel not to satisfy her curiosity.

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. who was herself from one of the oldest Venetian families. Did you pass through the Corso?" "Yes. you know?" "The Count of Monte Cristo." "Well. did you notice two windows hung with yellow damask." "When you say invisible. I think." said the countess. after we left you. and you have seen her?" "Her?" "The beautiful Greek of yesterday. at the Hotel de Londres with you?" "Not only in the same hotel. but on the same floor." returned Albert. of course." "You hear. "What sort of a man is he?" "Ask the Vicomte de Morcerf." "The count had three windows at the Rospoli Palace?" "Yes. A friend of ten years' standing could not have done more for us."Last night." "Through what medium?" "The very prosaic one of our landlord. de Morcerf. madam. I am referred to you. then. we heard." interrupted Albert. we must put up with that. "did we not think him delightful. and one with . "We should be very hard to please." "No." "What is his name--for. but she remained perfectly invisible. or with a more perfect courtesy." "And he is a count?" "A Tuscan count. it is the name of the island he has purchased." observed the countess." "Well. "I see my vampire is only some millionaire." said the countess. who has taken the appearance of Lara in order to avoid being confounded with M." "Come. "At the Rospoli Palace." "He is staying. the sound of her guzla. M." "That is not a family name?" "No. "it is only to keep up the mystery. de Rothschild. smiling.

" "Then why did he purchase it?" "For a whim. and charged the tailor to sew on each of their hats about twenty yards of ribbon. but are they not now hideous with their blue frocks buttoned up to the chin. This circumstance had. he must be a nabob. The Count of Monte Cristo remained a quarter of an hour with them. I leave the carriage entirely at your disposal. "Gentlemen. and. and for the remainder of the Carnival." "Why. but they could find no good reason for refusing an offer which was so agreeable to them. "he seemed to me somewhat eccentric. The Turks used to be so picturesque with their long and flowing robes. Do you know what those three windows were worth?" "Two or three hundred Roman crowns?" "Two or three thousand. so that you will not inconvenience me in any way. Albert was impatient to see how he looked in his new dress--a jacket and breeches of blue velvet. and a silk waistcoat. they selected two exactly alike. This morning he made two or three exits worthy of Didier or Anthony. and to procure them two of the long silk sashes of different colors with which the lower orders decorate themselves on fete-days. Franz gave up his seat to him. Make use of it. . and he assured them that they would be perfectly satisfied. who had eight or ten Roman peasant costumes on his arm. conversing on all subjects with the greatest ease. I come to say that to-day. for your pleasure or your business. the effect of changing the conversation. according to custom. and their red caps." "He is an original. This picturesque attire set him off to great advantage. let fall on his shoulder a stream of ribbons. silk stockings with clocks. and when his hat." At this moment a fresh visitor entered." "The deuce. then?" "In reality. The next morning." observed Albert. who looked at himself in the glass with an unequivocal smile of satisfaction. Franz was forced to confess that costume has much to do with the physical superiority we accord to certain nations. which make them look like a bottle of wine with a red seal? Franz complimented Albert. an hour afterwards the two friends returned to their hotel. perfect freedom is sometimes still more agreeable. I pray you. he entered Franz's room." The young men wished to decline. shoes with buckles. "although a companion is agreeable. were he at Paris. as we have already said. at nine o'clock.white damask with a red cross? Those were the count's windows. I should say he was a poor devil literally mad." said he. followed by a tailor. He was. moreover." "Does his island produce him such a revenue?" "It does not bring him a baiocco. Signor Pastrini had already set about procuring their disguises for the morrow. and a frequenter of the theatres. placed coquettishly on one side. They were thus engaged when the Count of Monte Cristo entered. The host will tell you I have three or four more. and when he had bound the scarf around his waist.

On his return from the Vatican. At ten minutes past five Albert entered overjoyed. He did not then think of the Carnival. while he had changed his costume they had assumed his. At half-past one they descended. He insisted upon it. also. and Albert was not sorry to be upon an equal footing with them. Albert had fastened the faded bunch of violets to his button-hole. It is almost needless to say that the flirtation between Albert and the fair peasant continued all day. or whether a similar feeling had possessed them both. perhaps even more animated and noisy. on his return. the count appeared for an instant at his window. A few words he let fall showed them that he was no stranger to the sciences. but that he was unwilling to ask it. At the second turn. but her joyous companions also. A glance at the walls of his salon proved to Franz and Albert that he was a connoisseur of pictures. declaring beforehand that he was willing to make any sacrifice the other wished. The permission to do what he liked with the carriage pleased him above all. who received his congratulations with the air of a man conscious that they are merited. Franz remarked. and incited as much by a religious feeling as by gratitude. Franz found a letter from the embassy. while he gave these details. for in spite of his condescension and touching kindness. The two friends did not venture to return the count the breakfast he had given them. the peasants had changed their costume. Albert let himself be pressed just as long as friendship required. She was charming. indicated to Albert that. and as she passed she raised her mask. At each previous visit he had made to Rome. but when they again passed he had disappeared. an action which seemed greatly to amuse not only the fair lady who had thrown it. for the fair peasants had appeared in a most elegant carriage the preceding evening. and then avowed to Franz that he would do him a great favor by allowing him to occupy the carriage alone the next day. he was unwilling to quit the capital of the Christian world without laying his respectful homage at the feet of one of St. Franz congratulated Albert. At the first sound of the bell they hastened into the Corso by the Via Vittoria. and which gained them the applause of Franz and Albert. He had made up his mind to write to her the next day. Franz carefully avoided the Corso. that his fair incognita belonged to the aristocracy. that Albert seemed to have something to ask of him. one cannot incline one's self without awe before the venerable and noble old man called Gregory XVI. informing him that he would have the honor of being received by his holiness the next day. but he kept the faded one in his hand. Albert attributed to Franz's absence the extreme kindness of the fair peasant in raising her mask. which gave them a more ridiculous appearance than ever. a bunch of fresh violets. and he seemed much occupied with chemistry.perfectly well acquainted with the literature of all countries. like himself and his friend. The harlequin had reassumed her peasant's costume. and he was only prevented from recognizing him for a perfect gentleman by reason of his varied knowledge. Peter's successors who has set the rare example of all the virtues. In the evening. Albert was charmed with the count's manners. the coachman and footman had put on their livery over their disguises. to which the mad gayety of the maskers would have been profanation. and when he again met the calash. Albert placed the fresh bouquet in his button-hole. he had solicited and obtained the same favor. he raised it to his lips. and whether it was the result of chance. he brought away with him a treasure of pious thoughts. and he received their excuses with the air of a man who appreciated their delicacy. The day was as gay as the preceding one. They told him so frankly. He had recognized by certain unmistakable signs. thrown from a carriage filled with harlequins. Franz was not sufficiently egotistical to stop Albert in the middle of an . it would have been too absurd to offer him in exchange for his excellent table the very inferior one of Signor Pastrini.

charming." "Whether she goes there or not." returned Albert." (The writing was." said Franz. "Take care." This word was pronounced in a manner impossible to describe. and find if you can. The next morning he saw Albert pass and repass." Franz and Albert had received that morning an invitation from the celebrated Roman banker." "Well. "You have read the letter?" "Yes.adventure that promised to prove so agreeable to his curiosity and so flattering to his vanity. Franz was by no means sorry to learn how to act on such an occasion. holding an enormous bouquet. and as. "Read. in order that you may be recognized. "what do you think of that?" "I think that the adventure is assuming a very agreeable appearance. When you arrive at the first step of the church of San Giacomo. "All the nobility of Rome will be present. be sure to fasten a knot of rose-colored ribbons to the shoulder of your harlequin costume. my opinion is still the same. Look at the writing. "and I very much fear you will go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's ball.) "You are born to good fortune. Franz anticipated his wishes by saying that the noise fatigued him. and read:-Tuesday evening." asked he. also. but delirium. Franz took the letter. and the orthography irreproachable. "was I mistaken?" "She has answered you!" cried Franz. for the next evening Franz saw him enter triumphantly shaking a folded paper which he held by one corner. . He felt assured that the perfect indiscretion of his friend would duly inform him of all that happened." "You know how imperfectly the women of the mezzo cito are educated in Italy?" (This is the name of the lower class." replied Albert. which he doubtless meant to make the bearer of his amorous epistle. Albert was not deceived." said he. a similar piece of good fortune had never fallen to his share. at seven o'clock. she must go there. read the letter again. Until then you will not see me. Constancy and Discretion. and follow the Roman peasant who snatches your torch from you. "Well." "I think so. He therefore promised Albert that he would content himself the morrow with witnessing the Carnival from the windows of the Rospoli Palace. and that he should pass the next day in writing and looking over his journal. any blemish in the language or orthography. "Well. 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.) "Yes. in reality. and if your fair incognita belong to the higher class of society. The evening was no longer joy. as he returned the letter. Albert. during three years that he had travelled all over Italy. descend from your carriage opposite the Via dei Pontefici." said Franz. when Franz had finished. Albert nothing doubted but that the fair unknown would reply in the same manner.

his characteristic face. but even think of him without imagining his stern head upon Manfred's shoulders." "You alarm me." Doubtless Albert was about to discuss seriously his right to the academic chair when they were informed that dinner was ready. which had so forcibly struck him at their first meeting. however great Franz's desire was to allude to their former interview. The evening passed as evenings mostly pass at Italian theatres. Whether he kept a watch over himself. Albert's love had not taken away his appetite. with his eccentric character. Franz was less enthusiastic. His forehead was marked with the line that indicates the constant presence of bitter thoughts. but the count exercised over him also the ascendency a strong mind always acquires over a mind less domineering." said Albert. and I do not despair of seeing you a member of the Academy. And. the count seemed to have the power of fascination. as he was going to the Palli Theatre. and were told they were all let. After dinner. at least. Franz and Albert made some difficulty. alleging their fear of depriving him of it." "Come. but the count replied that. and had only returned an hour since. and he had no doubt but that. or beneath Lara's helmet. the only defect. a Byronic hero! Franz could not. but also return to Florence alone. He thought several times of the project the count had of visiting Paris. "I see that I shall not only go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's. to complete his resemblance with the fantastic heroes of the English poet." "If my unknown be as amiable as she is beautiful. He could not refrain from admiring the severe beauty of his features. not in listening to the music. free to recommence the discussion after dinner. Franz had by degrees become accustomed to the count's pallor. he would produce a great effect there. The count must feel sure that Franz recognized him. "I am in love. He had started the previous evening. and yet it was easy to understand that he was formed to rule the young men with whom he associated at present. Albert was constantly expatiating on their good fortune in meeting such a man. the fear of being disagreeable to the man who had loaded him and his friend with kindness prevented him from mentioning it. but in paying . 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. he had the fiery eyes that seem to penetrate to the very soul. He was charming. He hastened with Franz to seat himself. "I shall fix myself at Rome for six weeks. and I have always had a great taste for archaeology. we will not say see him. and yet he had not let fall a single word indicating any previous acquaintance between them." cried Franz. The count was no longer young. And yet he did not wish to be at Paris when the count was there." replied Albert. On his side. or rather the principal quality of which was the pallor."Laugh as much as you will. I adore Rome. The count had learned that the two friends had sent to secure a box at the Argentina Theatre. Signor Pastrini informed them that business had called him to Civita Vecchia. or whether by accident he did not sound the acrimonious chords that in other circumstances had been touched. two or three more such adventures. the box at the Argentina Theatre would be lost if they did not profit by it. Truly. He was at least forty. and his colossal fortune. that is. he was to-night like everybody else. The man was an enigma to Franz. They had not seen him for two days. This assurance determined the two friends to accept it. In consequence. the Count of Monte Cristo was announced. he brought them the key of his own--at least such was the apparent motive of his visit.

On Tuesday. a single arm that did not move. does not recollect to have ever seen a ceremony interrupted by one of those events so common in other countries. are candles which vary in size from the pascal taper to the rushlight. how to extinguish the moccoletti of .visits and conversing. but Franz announced he had something far newer to tell her. who crowded amongst the horses' feet and the carriage wheels without a single accident. which again flow into the parent river. and nosegays. in the carriages. A detachment of carbineers. Then the Castle of Saint Angelo fired three cannon to indicate that number three had won. The moccoli. excited by the shouts of three hundred thousand spectators. he informed the countess of the great event which had preoccupied them for the last three days. without any other signal. the comtess did not manifest the least incredulity. In order that there might be no confusion. she gave Albert no sign of her existence the morrow or the day after.--first. Albert was triumphant in his harlequin costume. at the windows. down all the streets. like torrents pent up for a while. a second volley of fireworks was discharged. The Countess G---. The pedestrians ranged themselves against the walls. or moccoletti. and retired by the adjacent streets. They promised. On Tuesday. the theatres open at ten o'clock in the morning. At length Tuesday came. From two o'clock till five Franz and Albert followed in the fete. have not been to see the Carnival before. upon separating. Almost instantly. time. 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. and the immense stream again continued its course between its two granite banks. The sellers of moccoletti entered on the scene. The heroine of the bouquet kept her word. in the midst of a tremendous and general outcry. the last and most tumultuous day of the Carnival. When the detachment arrived at the Piazza di Venezia. but congratulated Albert on his success. like the moccoli.wished to revive the subject of the count. At three o'clock the sound of fireworks. in spite of Albert's demonstrations of false modesty. and. eggs. to meet at the Duke of Bracciano's ball. and secondly. A knot of rose-colored ribbons fell from his shoulder almost to the ground. A new source of noise and movement was added to the crowd. and which give to each actor in the great final scene of the Carnival two very serious problems to grapple with. flowers. galloped up the Corso in order to clear it for the barberi. if we may credit travellers. It was a human storm. a single tongue that was silent. As the day advanced. There was not on the pavement. as Lent begins after eight at night. passed by like lightning. to which all Rome was invited. Immediately. Franz wore his peasant's costume. The author of this history. without the police interfering in the matter. As similar intrigues are not uncommon in Italy. are one of the episodes peculiar to the last days of the Carnival. and a hail of sweetmeats. the tumult became greater. to announce that the street was clear. how to keep his own moccoletto alight. exchanging handfuls of confetti with the other carriages and the pedestrians. or enthusiasm. a single dispute. The races. All these evolutions are executed with an inconceivable address and marvellous rapidity. At the sound of the fireworks the carriages instantly broke ranks. then the trampling of horses and the clashing of steel were heard. made up of a thunder of cries. fifteen abreast. all those who through want of money. flowing on towards the Corso. mingle in the gayety. or a single fight. the carriages moved on. and contribute to the noise and excitement. oranges. The fetes are veritable pleasure days to the Italians. who has resided five or six years in Italy. seven or eight horses.

It seemed as though Rome. relighting. and already. but. It seemed like the fete of jack-o'-lanterns. a first-rate pugilist. but Albert. one after the other. The night was rapidly approaching. the whole accompanied by cries that were never heard in any other part of the world. Franz followed Albert with his eyes. The distance was short. the moon. The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian. two or three stars began to burn among the crowd. and the streets which the young man traversed were plunged in the deepest obscurity. wearing the well-known costume of a peasant woman. stopped before the Hotel de Londres. so rapid a transition from gayety to sadness. The Carnival was over. at length it pointed to seven. had suddenly changed into a vast tomb. under the magic breath of some demon of the night. nothing was visible save a few lights that burnt behind the windows. Had old AEolus appeared at this moment. It seemed as though one immense blast of the wind had extinguished every one. The two friends were in the Via dei Pontefici. It was a signal. In his whole life. descending from the Palazzo di Venezia to the Piazza del Popolo. at the cry of "Moccoletti!" repeated by the shrill voices of a thousand vendors. and the devil has somewhat aided him. and that one comes from God. The moccoletto is kindled by approaching it to a light. The moccoletto is like life: man has found but one means of transmitting it. and at the same instant all the moccoletti were extinguished as if by enchantment. but as Albert had told him that he should not return so soon. By a chance. which added yet more to the intensity of the darkness. he would have been proclaimed king of the moccoli. for he saw Albert disappear arm-in-arm with the peasant girl. He watched them pass through the crowd for some time. and continued his course towards the church of San Giacomo. Franz had never before experienced so sudden an impression. the monstrous extinguishers. Suppose that all the stars had descended from the sky and mingled in a wild dance on the face of the earth. and Aquilo the heir-presumptive to the throne. or rather the count's. the features of the spectators on the third and fourth stories were visible. but at length he lost sight of them in the Via Macello. and saw him mount the first step. the Transteverin the citizen. bearing his moccoletto in his hand. which was on the wane. Two or three masks strove to knock his moccoletto out of his hand. did not rise until eleven o'clock. No sound was audible save that of the carriages that were carrying the maskers home. This battle of folly and flame continued for two hours. nothing hostile passed. without doubt. But he has discovered a thousand means of taking it away. snatched his moccoletto from him without his offering any resistance. It is impossible to form any idea of it without having seen it. Every one hastened to purchase moccoletti--Franz and Albert among the rest. every one blowing. and at the end of ten minutes his carriage. The steps were crowded with masks. The facchino follows the prince. Franz was too far off to hear what they said. At the end of ten minutes fifty thousand lights glittered. Franz sat down . sent them rolling in the street.others. Dinner was waiting. Instantly a mask. the Corso was light as day. Franz found himself in utter darkness. Albert sprang out. who strove to snatch each other's torches. and mounting from the Piazzo del Popolo to the Palazzo di Venezia. Suddenly the bell that gives the signal for the end of the carnival sounded. But who can describe the thousand means of extinguishing the moccoletto?--the gigantic bellows. perhaps. Chapter 37. extinguishing. the superhuman fans. as in this moment. Every five minutes Albert took out his watch.

that it is a charming night. the duchess." "And don't you know where he is?" "Not at all." replied Franz. the duke's brother.without him. for eleven o'clock." replied the countess. At eleven o'clock Albert had not come back. therefore. Albert de Morcerf. "this is a bad day. or rather a bad night. "of the persons who are here. and was leaning on the arm of Signor Torlonia. not precisely. "Then he has not returned?" said the duke." . "and those who are here will complain of but one thing--its too rapid flight." said the duke with a smile. however. "who is out in the streets of Rome at this hour. and that he had lost sight of him in the Via Macello. the darkness which had replaced the light. desiring Signor Pastrini to inform him the moment that Albert returned to the hotel. Franz resolved to wait for Albert as late as possible. does its honors with the most consummate grace. Signor Pastrini. Franz and Albert had brought to Rome letters of introduction to them. The house of the Duke of Bracciano is one of the most delightful in Rome. Franz replied that he had left him at the moment they were about to extinguish the moccoli. countess. The sudden extinction of the moccoletti. I think it was something very like a rendezvous. "and whom I have not seen since. I meant persons who were out in the streets of Rome. Franz dressed himself. one of the last heiresses of the Colonnas. and the women of falling ill of jealousy at seeing you so lovely. to be out late." "Ah. "I think. and went out. He ordered the carriage. on the contrary. countess!" These words were addressed to the Countess G----. who had just arrived. is it not. who presented himself two or three times to inquire if he wanted anything. the men run no other danger than that of falling in love with you. had left in Franz's mind a certain depression which was not free from uneasiness." "Is he armed?" "He is in masquerade. unless it be to go to a ball?" "Our friend. but Franz merely replied that Albert had received on the previous evening an invitation which he had accepted. whom I left in pursuit of his unknown about seven o'clock this evening. and the silence which had succeeded the turmoil." "Diavolo!" said the duke." said Franz." asked the countess. inquired into the cause of his absence. in spite of the officious attention of his host. who had been accustomed to see them dine together. He therefore dined very silently. and thus their fetes have a European celebrity. "And do you know whither he went?" "No. "I waited for him until this hour. and their first question on his arrival was to inquire the whereabouts of his travelling companion." "I am not speaking. telling his host that he was going to pass the night at the Duke of Bracciano's.

"Yes." "Oh. He had no doubt that it was the messenger from Albert." replied the duke. who gained the prize in the race to-day. what could happen to him?" "Who can tell? The night is gloomy. He went up to him. The man was wrapped up in a large cloak." said the countess." he said." 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." "And who is the man?" "I do not know." "Why did he not bring it to me here?" "The messenger did not say. to his extreme astonishment. the servant came up to him. He had sent away his carriage with orders for it to fetch him at two o'clock." "A letter from the viscount!" exclaimed Franz. the stranger . if it is not any serious affair. "go with all speed--poor young man! Perhaps some accident has happened to him. "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." said the duke to Franz. "Oh. "and then moreover." "Ah. "here I think. in any event." The duke was not mistaken. Franz saw a man in the middle of the street. "and desired them to come and inform me of his return. "Shall we see you again to give us any information?" inquired the countess." "Be prudent." said the countess to Franz. pray be assured of that. when he saw Franz." said Franz. fortunately the Palazzo Bracciano." replied Franz. and on the other in the Square of the Holy Apostles. As he came near the hotel. is hardly ten minutes' walk from the Hotel de Londres. but."You should not have allowed him to go. "I informed them at the hotel that I had the honor of passing the night here. who know Rome better than he does." "I will hasten." "And where is the messenger?" "He went away directly he saw me enter the ball-room to find you." replied Franz. "Your excellency. duke." "You might as well have tried to stop number three of the barberi. otherwise I cannot answer as to what I may do myself. "Yes. is one of my servants who is seeking you." Franz took his hat and went away in haste. "you. which is on one side in the Corso. and the Tiber is very near the Via Macello.

Run to Torlonia. relying on you as you may rely on me. "And why?" "Your excellency will know when you have read the letter. Your friend. with a smile." "Your excellency's name"-"Is the Baron Franz d'Epinay." "Shall I find you here. "What wants your excellency of me?" inquired the man. I have seen him. add your own to it. then?" "Certainly.first addressed him. "and he has handed this letter to me." inquired Franz." he replied. It was thus worded:-My Dear Fellow. "from the Viscount of Morcerf?" "Your excellency lodges at Pastrini's hotel?" "I do. "Well--what?" responded Franz. and unfolded it. Light the candles in my apartment. if it be not sufficient. It is urgent that I should have this money without delay. "Yes." "I prefer waiting here." Franz entered the hotel. draw from him instantly four thousand piastres. and so he went instantly towards the waxlight." "Is there any answer?" inquired Franz.--The moment you have received this." The inn-keeper gave orders to a servant to go before Franz with a light. taking the letter from him. The young man had found Signor Pastrini looking very much alarmed. and give them to the bearer. if you please." "Then it is to your excellency that this letter is addressed. and I will give it to you. "You have seen the man who desired to speak with you from your friend?" he asked of Franz. as if to keep on his guard. retreating a step or two. ." said the messenger. I do not say more. "Yes--your friend at least hopes so. "Well?" said the landlord." "Your excellency is the travelling companion of the viscount?" "I am. Franz read it twice before he could comprehend what it contained. and this had only made him the more anxious to read Albert's letter. "Are not you the person who brought me a letter. which you will find in the square drawer of the secretary. have the kindness to take the letter of credit from my pocket-book." "Come up-stairs with me. It was written and signed by Albert. On the staircase he met Signor Pastrini.

He hastened to open the secretary. but of these six thousand Albert had already expended three thousand. True. "do you know if the count is within?" "Yes. "and what may it be?" "Are we alone?" "Yes.--I now believe in Italian banditti. Franz gave him Albert's letter. Thus seven or eight hundred piastres were wanting to them both to make up the sum that Albert required. he had brought but a hundred louis. going to the door. what good wind blows you hither at this hour?" said he. He was in a small room which Franz had not yet seen. in whose existence he had for so long a time refused to believe. if you please." Signor Pastrini did as he was desired." Franz went along the corridor. then. as he lived at Florence.Albert de Morcerf. when suddenly a luminous idea crossed his mind. Albert. had fallen into the hands of the famous bandit chief. he might in such a case rely on the kindness of Signor Torlonia. . in a strange hand. and had only come to Rome to pass seven or eight days. and which was surrounded with divans. "If by six in the morning the four thousand piastres are not in my hands. He remembered the Count of Monte Cristo. and a servant introduced him to the count. and found the pocket-book in the drawer. Below these lines were written.S." This second signature explained everything to Franz. Franz was about to ring for Signor Pastrini. "have you come to sup with me? It would be very kind of you. about to return to the Palazzo Bracciano without loss of time." "A serious matter. the street was safer for him." "Is he in bed?" "I should say no. and returning five minutes after. and returning. I have come to speak to you of a very serious matter." said the count. The count came towards him. alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di vivere." replied the count. and of these he had not more than fifty left. the following in Italian:-Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono nelle mie mani. looking at Franz with the earnestness usual to him. he has this moment returned. "My dear sir. he had no letter of credit." "No. therefore.--"The count awaits your excellency. your excellency. by seven o'clock the Count Albert will have ceased to live. when that worthy presented himself. and in it the letter of credit. P. "Well. There were in all six thousand piastres. He was." he said. As to Franz. Luigi Vampa." he said. There was no time to lose. and request him to be so kind as to give me an audience. hastily. he said. who now understood the objection of the messenger to coming up into the apartment. The count read it." "Then ring at his door. "Read that.

" "I think that if you would take the trouble of reflecting." said the count. and remained silent an instant. "How so?" returned the count. and pulling out a drawer filled with gold. "'Luigi Vampa." "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?" "Have you not saved Peppino's life?" "Well." "Shall I take any arms?" "For what purpose?" . I am sure he would not refuse you Albert's freedom. "The postscript is explicit." replied he. "Have you the money he demands?" "Yes. all but eight hundred piastres." said Franz. would you accompany me?" "If my society would not be disagreeable. "who told you that?" "No matter. I come to you first and instantly."Well." "Be it so. "Is it absolutely necessary." "You see. to send the money to Luigi Vampa?" asked the young man. "And I thank you. "And if I went to seek Vampa. you could find a way of simplifying the negotiation. "Judge for yourself.'" "What think you of that?" inquired Franz. then. indeed. I know it. alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di vivere. looking fixedly in his turn at the count." The count went to his secretary. well!" said he. well. said to Franz. with surprise." and he made a sign to Franz to take what he pleased. opened it. "'Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono nelle mie mani." The count knit his brows. "Did you see the postscript?" "I did. It is a lovely night." replied Franz. have what you will. on the contrary. and a walk without Rome will do us both good. "If we were to go together to Luigi Vampa.--"I hope you will not offend me by applying to any one but myself.

you may speak before his excellency." said he." "The chief's mistress?" "Yes. threw himself on his knees. he would not come up." replied Peppino. "Well?" said the count. for it is a week ago. But Peppino. but he will not make any difficulty at entering mine."Any money?" "It is useless. in the same tone in which he would have given an order to his servant. with the chief's ." said the count. The messenger obeyed without the least hesitation. perhaps. and never shall I forget it. "was Luigi Vampa in the carriage with the Roman peasants?" "It was he who drove. "you have. then." said Franz. "I am ready to answer any questions your excellency may address to me." "What?" cried Franz." "It is useless. disguised as the coachman." returned Peppino. instead of answering. Where is the man who brought the letter?" "In the street. seized the count's hand. and. "I am a friend of the count's. but it is something that you believe so. The Frenchman threw her a bouquet. "Ah." "You can speak before me. the Frenchman's carriage passed several times the one in which was Teresa. "Never? That is a long time. Teresa." "Good!" returned Peppino." The count went to the window of the apartment that looked on to the street. The man in the mantle quitted the wall. who was in the carriage." "How did the Viscount Albert fall into Luigi's hands?" "Excellency. but rather with alacrity. the Frenchman took off his mask. "Salite!" said the count." "He awaits the answer?" "Yes. excellency. "Oh." "I must learn where we are going. it is you. "Ah." "To your apartments. and advanced into the middle of the street. I will summon him hither." "No. Peppino. and whistled in a peculiar manner. "it is necessary to excite this man's confidence. then. "Well. that is strange. entered the hotel. "he is one of my friends. with an accent of profound gratitude. Rise and answer. mounting the steps at a bound." said the count. and covered it with kisses. five seconds afterwards he was at the door of the room." Peppino glanced anxiously at Franz. You allow me to give you this title?" continued the count in French. not forgotten that I saved your life. Teresa returned it--all this with the consent of the chief.

and away I go. At the same time. and sat by him. He is in a very picturesque place--do you know the catacombs of St. a carriage was waiting at the end of the Via Macello. sir. and a footman appeared. Beppo put a brace of pistols to his head. and then brought him to Teresa and Luigi." "And Beppo led him outside the walls?" said the count. day and night. that I should think it very amusing. here is an opportunity made to your hand. surrounded the carriage. I always have one ready. He gallantly offered the right-hand seat to Beppo." "And. Beppo told him he was going to take him to a villa a league from Rome. "Oh." "Well. Teresa gave him one--only." "Well. decidedly. Sebastian." replied Franz. who were concealed on the banks of the Almo. "if it had happened to any one but poor Albert. You need not awaken the coachman. and it would be difficult to contrive a better. be assured. The Frenchman asked for a rendezvous." he said. and when they were two hundred yards outside." "What!" exclaimed Franz. I resolve on starting for some particular point. did the same. "Exactly so. turning towards Franz. or in the middle of the night. who were waiting for him in the catacombs of St. and he did not wait to be asked twice. walk along the banks of the river. the coachman pulled up and did the same." "And shall we go and find him?" inquired Franz." said the count. What do you say to it?" "Why. They made him get out. Beppo has taken in plenty of others. "and remove the pistols which are in the holsters. "Order out the carriage." "Always ready?" "Yes. if you had not found me here. Beppo got in.consent." replied Peppino. instead of Teresa. as the Frenchman became somewhat too forward. "it seems to me that this is a very likely story." In a very short time the noise of wheels . The Frenchman made some resistance. "the peasant girl who snatched his mocoletto from him"-"Was a lad of fifteen. but now." said the count. but I have often resolved to visit them. I am a very capricious being. and was forced to yield. "But it was no disgrace to your friend to have been deceived. or after my dinner." The count rang. in truth. but he could not resist five armed men. Have you a carriage?" "No. his alarm will be the only serious consequence. four of the band." "That is of no consequence. the Frenchman assured him he would follow him to the end of the world. inviting the Frenchman to follow him. and nearly strangled Beppo. Ali will drive. "it might have proved a gallant adventure which would have cost your friend dear. and I should tell you that sometimes when I rise. it was Beppo who was on the steps of the church of San Giacomo. Sebastian?" "I was never in them. The coachman went up the Via di Ripetta and the Porta San Paola.

during which Franz saw the shepherd going along a narrow path that led over the irregular and broken surface of the Campagna. Ali was on the box." One of the two men was Peppino. "we shall be there. "Who comes there?" At the same time they saw the reflection of a torch on a carbine barrel. They then perceived two men conversing in the obscurity." He then took Peppino aside. and reached the gates of St. and suddenly retreat into the darkness on a signal from Peppino. The count first reached an open space and Franz followed him closely. They went on a hundred and fifty paces in this way. The road which the carriage now traversed was the ancient Appian Way." replied the count. but the Count of Monte Cristo produced a permit from the governor of Rome." said the count to his companion. Are you still resolved to accompany me?" "More determined than ever. ." "Well. and turned to see if they came after him. and went down the Corso. At the door they found the carriage. at the distance of a hundred paces. "We might start at five o'clock and be in time. and they set off at a rapid pace. "In ten minutes. by the light of the moon. Peppino glided first into this crevice. and were scarcely able to proceed abreast of one another. accompanied by Peppino. Peppino will have warned the sentry of our coming. still Franz and the count were compelled to advance in a stooping posture. enlarging as they proceeded. Franz and the count advanced." Franz and the count in their turn then advanced along the same path. but the delay may cause your friend to pass an uneasy night. Sebastian. and the carriage stopped at the door. and the other a bandit on the lookout. the porter had a louis for his trouble. which. the portcullis was therefore raised. Peppino placed himself beside Ali." said Peppino. "let us follow him. come along. and then were stopped by. A short time before they reached the Baths of Caracalla the carriage stopped. "Half-past twelve. Peppino passed. then. by which a man could scarcely pass. "Ought we to go on?" asked Franz of the count. Peppino opened the door. They came to an opening behind a clump of bushes and in the midst of a pile of rocks. Ali had received his instructions. after they got along a few paces the passage widened. "if you will follow me. in whom Franz recognized the dumb slave of the grotto of Monte Cristo. Five minutes elapsed.was heard. and bordered with tombs. the opening of the catacombs is close at hand. The count took out his watch. brought with them in the carriage. crossed the Campo Vaccino." "Go on." Franz and the count went downstairs. taking with him a torch. addressing the count. gave him an order in a low voice. led them over a declivity to the bottom of a small valley. which began to rise. and the count and Franz alighted. The passageway sloped in a gentle descent. then. Then the porter raised some difficulties. and they went on their way. Franz and the count got into the carriage. and finally he disappeared in the midst of the tall red herbage. Franz imagined that he saw something like a sentinel appear at various points among the ruins. "Now. allowing him to leave or enter the city at any hour of the day or night." said the count. which seemed like the bristling mane of an enormous lion. and Peppino went away. From time to time. went up the Strada San Gregorio. "or shall we wait awhile?" "Let us go on. "Your excellency. lighted his torch." he said. and the bandit saluted them. and therefore we had better go with all speed to extricate him from the hands of the infidels.

and in groups. which went all round the columbarium. Down one of the corridors. who was less abstracted. Peppino. as was evident from the cross which still surmounted them. A lamp. When the count thought Franz had gazed sufficiently on this picturesque tableau."A friend!" responded Peppino. and like a shadow. was visible along the wall. and. but I was so far from expecting the honor of a visit. making a sign that they might proceed. In the midst of this chamber were four stones. who was so intent on the book before him that he did not hear the noise of his footsteps. each having his carbine within reach. . put out the torch. dug into niches. "Exceedingly. Around him. it appears to me that you receive a friend with a great deal of ceremony." "Ground arms. They advanced silently. Five corridors diverged like the rays of a star. like the first. A man was seated with his elbow leaning on the column." said he in a voice perfectly calm. entirely surrounded by niches similar to those of which we have spoken. which was only distinguishable because in that spot the darkness seemed more dense than elsewhere. and then he. while with the other he took off his hat respectfully. and twenty carbines were levelled at the count. the count guiding Franz as if he had the singular faculty of seeing in the dark. These arcades opened on one side into the corridor where the count and Franz were. and Franz and the count were in utter darkness. and the walls. and found themselves in a mortuary chamber. except that fifty paces in advance of them a reddish glare." Peppino obeyed. drawing at the same moment a pistol from his girdle. and on the other into a large square chamber. advancing alone towards the sentry. saluted the nocturnal visitors. "Well. however. and was reading with his back turned to the arcades. Three arcades were before them. through the openings of which the new-comers contemplated him. Vampa rose quickly. were to be seen twenty brigands or more. scarcely visible. according to their fancy. silent. my dear Vampa. and no muscle of his countenance disturbed. lying in their mantles. he said a few words to him in a low tone. placed at the base of a pillar. "well. more evident since Peppino had put out his torch. saw his way more plainly in proportion as he went on towards the light. and. ascending the three steps which led to the corridor of the columbarium. Behind the sentinel was a staircase with twenty steps. who was walking up and down before a grotto. or with their backs against a sort of stone bench. was a sentinel. and the middle one was used as a door. In a moment all the bandits were on their feet. rays of light were visible. whose extent it was impossible to determine." replied Franz. entered the chamber by the middle arcade. then. At this challenge. turning to the singular personage who had caused this scene. your excellency. The count laid his hand on Franz's shoulder." exclaimed the chief. Franz himself. "Would you like to see a camp of bandits in repose?" he inquired. Luigi Vampa. Franz and the count descended these. he raised his finger to his lips. showed that they were at last in the catacombs. "Your pardon. At the other end. and who saw by the lamp-light a shadow approaching his chief. 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. "Come with me. with an imperative sign of the hand. which were arranged one above the other in the shape of coffins. to warn him to be silent. which served in some manner as a guide. This was the chief of the band. which had formerly served as an altar. "Who comes there?" cried the sentinel. he said. and advanced towards Vampa. then.

and yet. who all retreated before his look." "Nothing has happened to him." he said to him. that this had happened. pointing to the hollow space in front of which the bandit was on guard. "I told you there was some mistake in this. for the last hour I have not heard him stir. looking round him uneasily. "I am with the person to whom this letter was addressed. I would blow his brains out with my own hand!" "Well. and also my reply. "Was it not agreed. Well. "Welcome among us. you have carried him off. "you have set a ransom on him. "you heard what the count just said." Franz approached." added the count. but also that of my friends. your excellency." said the count." said the count frowningly. should be respected by you?" "And how have I broken that treaty." the count added. "What is the prisoner doing?" inquired Vampa of the sentinel." . and. in a tone that made Franz shudder." replied Vampa. "that not only my person. turning towards Franz. and to whom I desired to prove that Luigi Vampa was a man of his word. "and I will go myself and tell him he is free. having committed an error." replied the sentry. "where is the Viscount?--I do not see him. 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. I repeat to you." "Why did you not tell me all this--you?" inquired the brigand chief. Vampa. captain. turning to Franz. but also the conditions you make with them. "I do not know. "Ma foi. Come. and Franz and the count followed him." "What conditions have I forgotten. "here is Luigi Vampa. who has all our lives in his hands? By heavens.that I did not really recognize you. and conveyed him hither. taking the letter from his pocket. "Why have you caused me thus to fail in my word towards a gentleman like the count. I hope." said the count. let me add that I would not for the four thousand piastres at which I had fixed your friend's ransom." said Franz. if I thought one of you knew that the young gentleman was the friend of his excellency. the chief advancing several steps to meet him." "But. "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." asked the count. your excellency." continued the count. with the air of a man who. as if he were an utter stranger. is anxious to repair it." The chief went towards the place he had pointed out as Albert's prison. your excellency?" inquired the bandit." "Are you not alone?" asked Vampa with uneasiness. "and that not only do you forget people's faces. "The prisoner is there. who will himself express to you his deep regret at the mistake he has committed. turning towards his men.

"you are really most kind. captain? You should have allowed me to sleep. "but our neighbor." Vampa looked at Albert with a kind of admiration. for the future. Albert was to be seen wrapped up in a cloak which one of the bandits had lent him. "Oh. my dear Franz. "this must be one of your friends. similar to that which lighted the columbarium. and in the next for this visit." he said. "not so bad for a man who is to be shot at seven o'clock to-morrow morning. Napoleon's maxim. "You are right. my dear count. with perfect ease of mind." said Vampa. and opened his eyes. "Come." "My dear fellow." Albert looked around and perceived Franz. we shall yet have time to finish the night at Torlonia's." "Come hither?" "Yes. I should have finished my galop. The count and Franz ascended seven or eight steps after the chief." replied Franz." said the count. so that you will owe no ill-will to Signor Luigi.' if you had let me sleep on. "if you will make haste. 'Never awaken me but for bad news. as for Franz. "Will your excellency please to awaken?" Albert stretched out his arms." said Albert gayly. arranging his cravat and wristbands." "Really? Then that person is a most amiable person. he was evidently accustomed to see his prisoners tremble before him. but who nevertheless did give it. then. not I. he was enchanted at the way in which Albert had sustained the national honor in the presence of the bandit. throughout this whole affair acted like a gentleman." replied Albert. "Why the devil do you rouse me at this hour?" "To tell you that you are free. "My dear Albert. The bandit gazed on this scene with amazement. the Count of Monte Cristo."Come in. Then. "What. I was dancing the galop at Torlonia's with the Countess G----. rubbed his eyelids. who shuddered as he gave his own." said he. and have been grateful to you all my life." "Well. he touched him on the shoulder. and I hope you will consider me as under eternal obligations to you. hither. who drew back a bolt and opened a door. "remember." Then he drew his watch from his pocket. "is it you." he said. in the first place for the carriage. your excellency." . then. who has. that he might see how time sped. they have paid my ransom?" "No." Then going to Albert. by the gleam of a lamp. your excellency. how am I free?" "A person to whom I can refuse nothing has come to demand you." "Oh. indeed." said he. I had such a delightful dream. You may conclude your interrupted galop." and he put out his hand to the Count. whose devotion and friendship are thus displayed?" "No. So. "Half-past one only?" said he. saying. your excellency. he was not insensible to such a proof of courage. your excellency. lying in a corner in profound slumber. and yet here was one whose gay temperament was not for a moment altered. smiling with his own peculiar smile. "is it you.

"Madame. and he will assure you the delay arose from no fault of mine. On reaching the door. "Ah. turning round. he bowed." said the brigand chief. and the horses went on at great speed. not as a servant who performs an act of civility. but like a king who precedes ambassadors. I am enormously anxious to finish my night at the Duke of Bracciano's. sir. "And now. Franz paused for a moment. left the caves.'" said the bandit." "Well." Franz and Albert bowed. "allow me to repeat my apologies." added he. but here is my friend." replied the bandit. you compensate for your mistakes in so gentlemanly a way. "perhaps the offer may not appear very tempting to you. hat in hand. followed by Franz and the count. then. Albert put his arm round the waist of the countess. Their return was quite an event. "Has your excellency anything to ask me?" said Vampa with a smile. in his turn. "Now. forced to give his hand to Albert. my dear count." continued Albert." And Albert. he preceded his guests." "Well. The count went out first. "you are as free as air. "it is my favorite work. "let us on with all the speed we may. and disappeared with her in the whirl of dancers. "yesterday you were so condescending as to promise me a galop." and he. "here I am."You are decidedly right. Come. Signor Luigi. but if you should ever feel inclined to pay me a second visit. then Albert. "is there any formality to fulfil before I take leave of your excellency?" "None. I have. "Yes. wherever I may be. "I am curious to know what work you were perusing with so much attention as we entered. a happy and merry life to you. "will you allow me." "Caesar's 'Commentaries. all uneasiness on Albert's account ceased instantly. turning towards the young men. "give me the torch. your excellency. my dear Vampa." said the Viscount of Morcerf." added the chief. In the meanwhile Franz was considering the singular shudder that had passed over the Count of Monte Cristo at the moment when he had been. advancing towards the countess." replied Franz." "Gentlemen. but as they entered together. "I will show you the way back myself. "besides. "Yes. captain?" And he lighted his cigar at Vampa's torch." They found the carriage where they had left it." said the captain. you shall be welcome." replied the count. crossed the square chamber. where stood all the bandits. in some sort. and we may reach the Palazzo by two o'clock." "No. ." he said. It was just two o'clock by Albert's watch when the two friends entered into the dancing-room. They advanced to the plain." And as at this moment the orchestra gave the signal for the waltz. gentlemen. come. "Peppino." "What are you going to do?" inquired the count. whose character for veracity you well know. I am rather late in claiming this gracious promise." And taking the lighted torch from the hands of the herdsman." said Albert. your pardon. and I hope you will not entertain any resentment at what has occurred. descended the staircase. are you coming?" asked Albert. "that is the least honor that I can render to your excellency. The count said a word in Arabic to Ali." replied Franz. that one almost feels obliged to you for having committed them.

"your offer. "you really exaggerate my trifling exertions. it is quite true. with a smile. that although men get into troublesome scrapes all over the world. in which terror was strangely mingled." "I am wholly a stranger to Paris--it is a city I have never yet seen. and all to whom my life is dear.--nay. but. 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. at your disposal. I can in any way serve you? My father. I will go still further. believe me. and I unhesitatingly place the best services of myself. and. "I deserve no credit for what I could not help. namely." "Upon my word." replied the count. although of Spanish origin." "Is it possible. is precisely what I expected from you. francs. 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 the perfect indifference you manifested as to the turn events might take." said Albert. contained a request that Franz would accompany him on a visit to the count. and calls for immediate correction." exclaimed Albert." "Monsieur de Morcerf. however. and to assure you that the remembrance of all I owe to you will never be effaced from my memory. after a short delay. and I now come to ask you whether. far from surprising me. the count joined them in the salon.Chapter 38. "that you have reached your present age without visiting the finest capital in the world? I can scarcely credit it. and to let those bandits see." "My very good friend and excellent neighbor. on the following morning. in my own person. or connections. both at the court of France and Madrid. and say that I had previously made up my mind to ask a great favor at your hands. "permit me to repeat the poor thanks I offered last night. The Compact. pray name it. but at once accompanied him to the desired spot. true. advancing to meet him. but services such as he had rendered could never be too often acknowledged.000. so that there is not much of a score between us. a determination to take everything as I found it. in all . and I accept it in the same spirit of hearty sincerity with which it is made. still. I agree with you in thinking that my present ignorance of the first city in Europe is a reproach to me in every way. there is no nation but the French that can smile even in the face of grim Death himself. The first words that Albert uttered to his friend. "My dear count. I shall never cease to dwell with grateful recollection on the prompt and important service you rendered me. possesses considerable influence. and therefore made no objection to Albert's request. my family. who seemed attracted by some invisible influence towards the count. Franz. and also to remember that to you I am indebted even for my life. which you have been saved out of your travelling expenses. All that." "Oh." "Nevertheless. You owe me nothing but some trifle of 20." replied the count." said Albert. the Comte de Morcerf. has nothing to do with my obligations to you. the young man had warmly and energetically thanked the count on the previous evening.

of necessity." 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. "and so much the more readily as a letter received this morning from my father summons me to Paris. "But tell me now.probability. both inclination and positive necessity compel me to visit Paris. "tell me truly whether you are in earnest. I can only say that you may command me and mine to any extent you please." said Franz. but as my motive in travelling to your capital would not have been for the pleasure of dabbling in stocks. but his countenance was inscrutable especially when." "Then it is settled. as a millionaire. I beg of you) with a family of high standing. but unfortunately I possessed no acquaintance there. and with infinite pleasure." returned the count. I can find no merit I possess. in consequence of a treaty of marriage (my dear Franz. that I do. "could scarcely have required an introduction. but as regards myself. 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." said the count. it was veiled in a sphinx-like smile. as that of making myself acquainted with the wonders and beauties of your justly celebrated capital. do not smile. and. Aguado and M. my dear count. "and I give you my solemn assurance that I only waited an opportunity like the present to realize plans that I have long meditated. I shall be quite a sober. so necessary a duty. delighted at the idea of having to chaperon so distinguished a person as Monte Cristo. 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. is liable to be blown over by the first puff of wind?" "I pledge you my honor." "You are most kind." exclaimed Albert. smooths all difficulties. I might have become a partner in the speculations of M." "So distinguished an individual as yourself." "Connected by marriage. I stayed away till some favorable chance should present itself of carrying my wish into execution. Rothschild." cried Albert. as in the present case. de Morcerf" (these words were accompanied by a most peculiar smile). like a house built on the sand. 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. hoping to read something of his purpose in his face. Perhaps by the time you return to Paris." answered Albert. "whether you undertake. had I known any person who would have introduced me into the fashionable world. my dear M. you mean. was compelled to abandon the idea." answered Albert. save that. however. laughingly. "Well. but which. count. upon my arrival in France. and while the Count was speaking the young man watched him closely. and connected with the very cream of Parisian society. I should have performed so important. and I have only to ask you. "that I mean to do as I have said. "it comes to the same thing in the end." "When do you propose going thither?" "Have you made up your mind when you shall be there yourself?" . never mind how it is. Your offer.

" said Albert." and drawing out his watch. and expect me the 21st of May at the same hour in the forenoon. as fast as I can get there!" "Nay. added." replied the count." ." said the Count. as. "you will be at my house?" "Shall we make a positive appointment for a particular day and hour?" inquired the count." "Have you bachelor's apartments there? I hope my coming will not put you to any inconvenience." exclaimed Albert. as I am compelled to go to Naples." "Quite sufficient. Rue du Helder. "make yourself perfectly easy. when do you leave?" "To-morrow evening. "that will suit me to a dot. he said." "Shall I see you again ere my departure?" asked Albert. "only let me warn you that I am proverbial for my punctilious exactitude in keeping my engagements. and shall not return hither before Saturday evening or Sunday morning. "That depends. and extending his hand towards a calendar. "your breakfast shall be waiting. but occupy a pavilion at the farther side of the court-yard. "And in three months' time." "Day for day. addressing Franz. "do you also depart to-morrow?" "Yes." "Now then. that is to say. "to-day is the 21st of February. half-past ten in the morning." "I reside in my father's house." "In that case I must say adieu to you. at five o'clock." said Albert. hour for hour. I shall remain in Italy for another year or two. 27." "For France?" "No. suspended near the chimney-piece." replied the count. entirely separated from the main building."Certainly I have." said the count. he wrote down "No. you see I make an ample allowance for all delays and difficulties. for Venice. Now promise me to remember this. Rue du Helder." "So be it. the hand of your time-piece will not be more accurate in marking the time than myself. baron." "Where do you live?" "No. 21st May." "Capital. "it is exactly half-past ten o'clock. taking out his tablets. then. in a fortnight or three weeks' time. returning his tablets to his pocket." pursued the count." "Then we shall not meet in Paris?" "I fear I shall not have that honor. And you. 27. "I will give you three months ere I join you.

" "Did you ever meet him previously to coming hither?" "I have. since we must part." replied the Count. for I have noticed how cold you the count. the dream." "Listen to me. and the appointment you have made to meet him in Paris fills me with a thousand apprehensions. "what can there possibly be in that to excite uneasiness? Why. "you seem more than commonly thoughtful. Rue du Helder. all the particulars of the supper. on the other hand. at half-past ten in the morning. "allow me to wish you both a safe and pleasant journey. He dwelt with considerable force and energy on the almost magical hospitality he had received from the count. "I am glad that the occasion has this to you." "And where?" "Will you promise me not to repeat a single word of what I am about to tell you?" "I promise." He recounted." answered Franz. Albert. and unconsciously he shuddered at its touch. quitted the room. the statues. save the small yacht. and your word of honor passed for your punctuality?" "The 21st of May. at his awakening. in the Rue du Helder. while he. the hashish. holding out a hand to each of the young men." "Then listen to me. on the 21st of May. with circumstantial exactitude." "Upon your honor?" "Upon my honor. when they had returned to their own apartments. "the count is a very singular person. has to us." "I will confess to you." said the count. "it is agreed--is it not?--that you are to be at No. Franz." 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." "Whether I am in my senses or not. and the magnificence of his entertainment in the grotto of the "Thousand and One Nights. and bowing to the count. 27." It was the first time the hand of Franz had come in contact with that of the mysterious individual before him. The young men then rose. you must have lost your senses. there remained no proof or trace of all these events. and how." said Albert." said presented itself for saying are in your bearing towards always been courtesy itself him?" "Possibly. Have you anything particular against ."Well. at half-past ten in the morning. and the two Corsican bandits with them. seen in the distant horizon driving under full sail toward Albert." "My dear fellow. No. "What is the matter?" asked Albert of Franz. for it felt cold and icy as that of a corpse." replied Franz. "Let us understand each other. "that is the way I feel. 27." exclaimed Albert.

should I ever go to Corsica. therefore." replied Franz. Then he detailed the conversation overheard by him at the Colosseum. they are a race of men I admire greatly. How the count evidently possessed over those will allow that such men as who have no other motive than do you explain the influence ruffians?" "My good friend. and have the same liking for this amusement. for my own part. instead of condemning him for his intimacy with outlaws. to prevent the possibility of the Tuscan government taking a fancy to his enchanted palace. possesses a vessel of his own. Albert listened with the most profound attention." "Still. Nobody knows better than yourself that the bandits of Corsica are not rogues or thieves. should be to the bandits of Colomba. plunder when they seize your person. what is his native tongue. driven by some sinister motive from their native town or village.000 piastres. it would ill become me to search too closely into its source. but. when Franz had concluded." "Talking of countries. proving most indisputably.Porto-Vecchio. most assuredly. being translated. "I suppose you Vampa and his band are regular villains. "of what country is the count. At last he arrived at the adventure of the preceding night." persisted Franz. I should never have been estimated in France. but purely and simply fugitives. you must give me leave to excuse any little irregularity there may be in such a connection. in which the count had promised to obtain the release of the bandit Peppino. and that their fellowship involves no disgrace or stigma. my first visit. "the Corsican bandits that were among the crew of his vessel?" "Why. 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.000 livres of our money--a sum at which. while you have manfully resisted its effects for as many years. I protest that. as in all probability I own my present safety to that influence. and you will find the harbors crowded with the yachts belonging to such of the English as can afford the expense. by way of having a resting-place during his excursions. for. as our readers are aware." added Albert with a laugh. my good fellow. means neither more nor less than 24. and thereby depriving him of the advantages naturally expected from so large an outlay of capital. 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. but certainly for saving me 4. avoiding the wretched cookery--which has been trying its best to poison me during the last four months. being rich. Just ask yourself.--an engagement which. he has wisely enough purchased the island. Now. between the count and Vampa." said Franz. not altogether for preserving my life. and taken its name. on my conscience. "what do you find to object to in all you have related? The count is fond of travelling. really the thing seems to me simple enough. if I could only manage to find them. Go but to Portsmouth or Southampton.--and obtaining a bed on which it is possible to slumber. "that no prophet is honored in his own country. ere even I presented myself to the mayor or prefect. and what were those events of his early life--a life as marvellous as unknown--that have tinctured his succeeding years with so dark and ." said he. Monte Cristo has furnished for himself a temporary abode where you first found him. whence does he derive his immense fortune. which. and. "Well. for my own idea was that it never was in much danger. and finally of his application to the count and the picturesque and satisfactory result that followed. he most faithfully fulfilled.

did he ask you. you found the necessity of asking the count's assistance. Come. given. I should like to have answered. contrary to the usual state of affairs in discussions between the young men.' Was not that nearly what you said?" "It was. 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. I will readily give him the one and promise the other. and the following afternoon. you promptly went to him. shall we take our luncheon. for services so promptly and unhesitatingly rendered. Still. beneath the name of Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. "when." "No. I did not very particularly care to remain. on which. But. "and no doubt his motive in visiting Paris is to compete for the Monthyon prize." Chapter 39." answered the other. Peter's?" Franz silently assented. let us talk of something else. "do as you please my dear viscount. my dear Franz." "He is a philanthropist." said Franz with a sigh. Albert. then. Franz. and Franz d'Epinay to pass a fortnight at Venice. in spite of all. when. he merely came and freed me from the hands of Signor Vampa. 'My friend Albert de Morcerf is in danger. and then pay a last visit to St. upon receipt of my letter. help me to deliver him." replied Albert. you must have lost your senses to think it possible I could act with such cold-blooded policy. Now. "Well. three other windows looked into . half-past ten A. he had written in pencil--"27. then. I can assure you. Albert de Morcerf inhabited a pavilion situated at the corner of a large court. as you are aware. If my vote and interest can obtain it for him. Two windows only of the pavilion faced the street. to whoever shall be proved to have most materially advanced the interests of virtue and humanity.M. where. in spite of all my outward appearance of ease and unconcern." "My dear Franz. at half-past five o'clock. for your arguments are beyond my powers of refutation.gloomy a misanthropy? Certainly these are questions that. you must admit that this Count of Monte Cristo is a most singular personage. on the 21st May. placed in the care of a waiter at the hotel a card to be delivered to the Count of Monte Cristo. the young men parted. Rue du Helder." And this time it must be confessed that. and directly opposite another building. saying. ere he entered his travelling carriage. everything was being prepared on the morning of the 21st of May to do honor to the occasion. fearing that his expected guest might forget the engagement he had entered into. the effective arguments were all on Albert's side. in which were the servants' apartments. where Albert had invited the Count of Monte Cristo. in your place. 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. Albert de Morcerf to return to Paris. In the house in the Rue du Helder." "Well. 'Who is M. And now. did he put all these questions to you?" "I confess he asked me none. The Guests.

Albert could see all that passed. A small door. Between the court and the garden. on the right. This door was a mockery to the concierge. looking into the garden. adorned with a carved shield. the three arts that complete a dandy's education. brushes. By means of the two windows looking into the street. Albert de Morcerf could follow up his researches by means of a small gate. which had been increased in size by pulling down the partitions--a pandemonium. the only rooms into which. There were not lacking. it was evident that every precaution had been taken. however. in which perhaps had sat Henry IV. and. and a bedroom. on which were engraved the fleur-de-lis of France on an azure field evidently came from the Louvre. boxing-gloves. gave ingress and egress to the servants and masters when they were on foot. and hid from the garden and court these two apartments. and which formed the ante-chamber. hunting-horns. The boudoir up-stairs communicated with the bed-chamber by an invisible door on the staircase. close to the lodge of the concierge. easels. as they were on the ground-floor. or Sully. and Charles Leboucher. Then." opening at the "Sesame" of Ali Baba. surmounted at intervals by vases filled with flowers. foils. Louis XIII. careless life of an only son. with the addition of a third. with which the door communicated. fencing. and on the left the salon. The salon down-stairs was only an Algerian divan. boxing. and two at the back into the garden. Cook. broadswords. pencils--for music had been succeeded by painting. and single-sticks--for. and Palissy platters. had chosen this habitation for Albert. Shrubs and creeping plants covered the windows. dyed beneath . Albert's breakfast-room. flutes--a whole orchestra. similar to that close to the concierge's door. It was easy to discover that the delicate care of a mother. At the end of a long corridor. i. built in the heavy style of the imperial architecture. some royal residence. and single-stick.. Albert de Morcerf cultivated. the prying eyes of the curious could penetrate. for the use of smokers. like that famous portal in the "Arabian Nights. There were collected and piled up all Albert's successive caprices. a boudoir. and which merits a particular description. should anything appear to merit a more minute examination. who always want to see the world traverse their horizon. for Albert had had not a taste but a fancy for music. the sight of what is going on is necessary to young men.the court. at least. or Richelieu--for two of these arm-chairs. filled with Chinese porcelain and Japanese vases. and it was here that he received Grisier. and who lives as it were in a gilded cage. in which the artist and the dandy strove for preeminence. and yet aware that a young man of the viscount's age required the full exercise of his liberty. A high wall surrounded the whole of the hotel. or. On the floor above were similar rooms. of old arm-chairs. 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. formed out of the ante-chamber. but the well-oiled hinges and locks told quite another story. and broken in the centre by a large gate of gilded iron. these three rooms were a salon. palettes. Above this floor was a large atelier. unwilling to part from her son. 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. Over these dark and sombre chairs were thrown splendid stuffs. was. which served as the carriage entrance. so entirely was it covered with dust and dirt. The rest of the furniture of this privileged apartment consisted of old cabinets.e. evidences of what we may call the intelligent egoism of a youth who is charmed with the indolent. Lucca della Robbia faience. from whose vigilance and jurisdiction it was free. bass-viols. even if that horizon is only a public thoroughfare. looking into the court. following the example of the fashionable young men of the time. with far more perseverance than music and drawing.

Take her six bottles of different wine--Cyprus. I wish to be punctual. the symmetrical derangement. Malay creeses. after coffee. Haydn. a destination unknown to their owner himself. then. on the ceiling." "Very well. with their long tubes of morocco. minerals. Madame Danglars' footman left the other. and of narghiles. beside them. do you breakfast?" "What time is it now?" "A quarter to ten. In the centre of the room was a Roller and Blanchet "baby grand" piano in rosewood. he composed. However. Albert had himself presided at the arrangement. held in one hand a number of papers. the morning of the appointment. sherry. selected two written in a small and delicate hand. "it is the hour I told the count. daggers. This was Albert's favorite lounging place. sir. of chibouques. be obliged to go to the minister--and besides" (Albert looked at his tablets). and in the other a packet of letters. On the walls. This valet.--from the yellow tobacco of Petersburg to the black of Sinai. a collection of German pipes. What these stuffs did there." "At what o'clock.Persia's sun. get them at Borel's. regalias. at half past ten. and enclosed in scented envelopes. and on great occasions the count's chasseur also. and. in boxes of fragrant wood. every species of tobacco known. Gretry. Is the countess up yet?" . pueros. and be sure you say they are for me. "One by the post. battle-axes. with their amber mouth-pieces ornamented with coral. and their beaks forever open. and a barrel of Ostend oysters. during the day. At a quarter to ten. and who only spoke English. Weber. a valet entered.--was exposed in pots of crackled earthenware of which the Dutch are so fond. which he gave to Albert. tell Rosa that when I leave the Opera I will sup with her as she wishes. rather. while gratifying the eyes. There. the young man had established himself in the small salon down-stairs. and though I do not much rely upon his promise. their flame-colored wings outspread in motionless flight. they awaited. in an open cabinet. and ascends in long and fanciful wreaths to the ceiling. Wait. or. perhaps. and stuffed birds." "Let Madame Danglars know that I accept the place she offers me in her box. and so on along the scale from Maryland and Porto-Rico. and groaning beneath the weight of the chefs-d'oeuvre of Beethoven. Albert glanced carelessly at the different missives. Mozart. in the meantime they filled the place with their golden and silky reflections. and Porpora. to Latakia. opened them and perused their contents with some attention. over the doors. and who enjoyed the entire confidence of his young master. all Albert's establishment. dried plants. "How did these letters come?" said he. were swords. 21st May. with a little groom named John. and Malaga. but holding the potentialities of an orchestra in its narrow and sonorous cavity. havanas. on a table. surrounded at some distance by a large and luxurious divan. maces. damasked. at half past ten. or woven by the fingers of the women of Calcutta or of Chandernagor. awaiting the caprice or the sympathy of the smokers. the guests at a breakfast of modern days love to contemplate through the vapor that escapes from their mouths. which. according to their size and quality. whose name was Germain. it was impossible to say. and inlaid suits of armor. and manillas. gilded. Debray will. although the cook of the hotel was always at his service. were ranged.

Do you not know that all Paris knew it yesterday." "At Bourges?" "Yes. one after the other. seating himself on the divan. you arrive at five minutes to ten. and a tortoiseshell eye-glass suspended by a silken thread." "Yes. and which. "Good-morning. ask her for one of her liqueur cellarets." "It is for that reason you see me so early. my dear fellow. do not confound our plans. he fixed in his eye. he has not much to complain of. by an effort of the superciliary and zygomatic muscles. and the day before it had already transpired on the Bourse. and that I request permission to introduce some one to her. you drive Don Carlos out of Spain. and not a ballet. and you wish to announce the good news to me?" . "These papers become more and more stupid every day. true. "your punctuality really alarms me. muttering. dressed in a blue coat with beautifully carved gold buttons. do not affect indifference." "Ah. and offer him hospitality at Bourges." "And makes you resemble the Prince of Wales or the Duke of Reichstadt. carelessly." returned Debray. and M. they sent me the order of Charles III. and I begin to believe that we shall pass into a state of immobility. no. "Come. and tell her I shall have the honor of seeing her about three o'clock. What do I say? punctuality! You. and thin and compressed lips. clear gray eyes. tore off the cover of two or three of the papers." returned the young man. with a half-official air.." "No. and threw down. but confess you were pleased to have it. a carriage stopped before the door. entered.. good-morning. we are tottering always." "Yes." said Albert."If you wish. mine is incomplete." "Oh. "reassure yourself. Lucien Debray. Albert threw himself on the divan. made a face seeing they gave an opera." "Because you have the order of Charles III. the three leading papers of Paris. whom I expected last. without smiling or speaking. A tall young man. I will inquire. when the time fixed was half-past! Has the ministry resigned?" "No. 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. it is very well as a finish to the toilet. my dear fellow. but we never fall. with light hair. and then the affairs of the Peninsula will completely consolidate us. a white neckcloth. Bourges is the capital of Charles VII. looked at the theatre announcements. We take him to the other side of the French frontier." A moment after. and the servant announced M. hunted vainly amongst the advertisements for a new tooth-powder of which he had heard." The valet left the room. for I see you have a blue ribbon at your button-hole. It looks very neat on a black coat buttoned up. Lucien.

No. the jockey-club.--two enemies who rarely accompany each other." "I know so many men already. while Lucien turned over. lighting a manilla at a rose-colored taper that burnt in a beautifully enamelled stand--"how happy you are to have nothing to do. Address yourself to M. I will amuse you." replied Morcerf. a tailor who never disappoints you. "you astonish me by the extent of your knowledge. queens. better still. and who are yet leagued against me. plunged at once into European cabals and Parisian intrigues. a glass of sherry and a biscuit. but my head ached and I got up to have a ride for an hour. You do not know your own good fortune!" "And what would you do. I am bored. "Germain. our breakfast comes from my father's kitchen. and persuade the minister to sell us such instead of poisoning us with cabbage leaves. no. of course--try them. 26. and strove to sleep. with the opera." "Where does he come from--the end of the world?" "Farther still. "if you did nothing? What? private secretary to a minister. 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.. my dear diplomatist. the papers that lay on the table. and which you would not part with. my dear Albert. because I passed the night writing letters. a horse. corridor A." "On my word." "But you do not know this man. my dear Lucien. Besides. I then recollected you gave a breakfast this morning. and other diversions." returned Albert. I will do nothing of the kind. section of the indirect contributions. feed me." "The deuce! I hope he does not bring our breakfast with him. a sort of Carlo-republican alliance. parties to unite." "How?" "By introducing to you a new acquaintance." "A man or a woman?" "A man. with a slight degree of irony in his voice. with his gold-mounted cane. Humann. can you not amuse yourself? Well. Are you hungry?" ." replied Lucien. I am hungry." "It is my duty as your host. here are cigars--contraband."No. Take a cigar. perhaps. elections to direct. for which Chateau-Renaud offered you four hundred louis." "Really. the moment they come from government you would find them execrable.--five and twenty despatches. and here I am. amuse me. ennui and hunger attacked me at once. and. In the meantime." "Oh. possessing five and twenty thousand francs a year." said Albert. At the Bois de Boulogne. I returned home at daybreak." "Peste. having kings. to protect. besides your place. that does not concern the home but the financial department. ringing the bell.

"do I ever read the papers?" "Then you will dispute the more. You would think they felt some remorse." said Lucien with an air of sovereign contempt. we should never dream of dining at home." returned Beauchamp. come in." "You will then obtain the Golden Fleece." "M." announced the servant. If we were not forced to entertain a parcel of country boobies because they think and vote with us. who detests you without reading you. Beauchamp." "In the entire political world. "for I criticise him without knowing what he does. of which you are one of the leaders. you can dispute together. depreciate other persons' dinners. Albert. "Here is Debray." "Yes. and that sowing so much red. but we do not invite people of fashion." "Well." said the private secretary." "Yes. you ought to reap a little blue. so he says." "He is quite right. Good-day. you must allow it is the best thing for the stomach. but Don Carlos?" "Well. take another glass of sherry and another biscuit. and in ten years we will marry his son to the little queen. Your Spanish wine is excellent. But I dined at M." . but I hear Beauchamp in the next room. you have adopted the system of feeding me on smoke this morning. You see we were quite right to pacify that country. Don Carlos will drink Bordeaux. did you ever remark that?" "Ah. rising and advancing to meet the young man. if you are still in the ministry." "I think. de Villefort's. I am. and that will pass away the time. commander!" "Ah. "Come in." "About what?" "About the papers. smiling and shaking hands with him. I assure you." "Willingly." "Well."Humiliating as such a confession is." said Albert. "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." "They say that it is quite fair. and lawyers always give you very bad dinners. you know that already." "My dear friend. you ministers give such splendid ones.

and the diplomatist a Metternich. therefore. Eugenie Danglars. and since we had our choice. how could we choose that?" "I understand. Do we breakfast or dine? I must go to the Chamber." said Beauchamp. and the instant they arrive we shall sit down to table. let you run down the speeches of a man who will one day say to me. "he votes for you. for . that is." "I only await one thing before following your advice. I shall take a cutlet on my way to the Chamber. follow Debray's example. you do not know with what I am threatened. you must lay in a stock of hilarity. and three for the diplomatist. "Why do you not join our party. and cigars. that is exactly the worst of all. I must do something to distract my thoughts. you know I give my daughter two millions. to laugh at my ease." said Albert to Beauchamp. Danglars' speeches. I shall come back to dessert. this marriage will never take place. a minister who will hold office for six months. The devil take the constitutional government." "Pardieu. "it is plain that the affairs of Spain are settled. but he cannot make him a gentleman. and yet it seems to me that when the minister is out of spirits. coffee. in the meantime. and take a glass of sherry and a biscuit. for our life is not an idle one. "A gentleman. The Breakfast. I cannot in conscience."Come. Recollect that Parisian gossip has spoken of a marriage between myself and Mlle. "The king has made him a baron. for he belongs to the opposition." "Do not do anything of the sort. one word. 'Vicomte. that is not bad!" said Lucien. we will breakfast at eleven. and the Count of Morcerf is too aristocratic to consent. keep me some strawberries. I shall hear this morning that M. as they say. My dear Albert." "My dear friend. I am waiting until you send him to speak at the Luxembourg. the opposition ought to be joyous. "And what sort of persons do you expect to breakfast?" said Beauchamp. my dear Beauchamp? With your talents you would make your fortune in three or four years. and at his wife's this evening I shall hear the tragedy of a peer of France." "Then we shall have to wait two hours for the gentleman. for you are most desperately out of humor this morning. and can make him a peer. and a diplomatist." Chapter 40." "Ah." "You only breakfast. for I must give poor Lucien a respite." "You are like Debray. at least. for were the gentleman a Montmorency." "Do not run down M.'" "Ah. Danglars make a speech at the Chamber of Deputies. I await two persons. come." said Debray. I will stay." "Be it so.

the paltry sum of two million francs. Salute my hero." returned Lucien." replied Morcerf. he can be. and his broad chest was decorated with the order of the Legion of Honor. and black mustache. give three to your wife. and you will still have four." said Beauchamp." And he stepped on one side to give place to a young man of refined and dignified bearing." . "and pray that." "He will sully it then." "Well said. captain of Spahis. "My dear Albert. "do you marry her. "for here is Chateau-Renaud. I think you are right. "Oh. announcing two fresh guests. "the count of Chateau-Renaud knew how much pleasure this introduction would give me." said Albert with affectionate courtesy. You marry a money-bag label. well. to breakfast. half Oriental. every millionaire is as noble as a bastard--that is. laughing. if I remember. The Viscount of Morcerf can only wed a marchioness. The young officer bowed with easy and elegant politeness. gentleman all over. "the minister quotes Beranger." said Debray.--took Albert's hand. under circumstances sufficiently dramatic not to be forgotten. de Guise had." cried Beauchamp. "for. who. "Now. "Monsieur.--that is. what shall we come to next?" "M. M. "M." returned Beauchamp. de Chateau-Renaud exaggerates. de Chateau-Renaud--M. "for I am low--very low. You have seven martlets on your arms. if you should ever be in a similar predicament. heavens." "Do not say that. nothing worth speaking of. you told me you only expected two persons. but what does that matter? It is better to have a blazon less and a figure more on it." "Morrel. piercing eyes. viscount. my friend. Maximilian Morrel. then." muttered Albert--"Morrel--who is he?" But before he had finished. "let me introduce to you M. set off his graceful and stalwart figure. A rich uniform." said he." "On my word. with large and open brow." "But two million francs make a nice little sum. Morcerf." interrupted Chateau-Renaud." "Never mind what he says. to cure you of your mania for paradoxes. "It is the social capital of a theatre on the boulevard. or a railroad from the Jardin des Plantes to La Rapee." said Albert absently. and what is more--however the man speaks for himself--my preserver. Debray. de Chateau-Renaud. a handsome young man of thirty." "What has he done?" asked Albert. he may do as much for you as he did for me. Lucien. that is one more than M. his ancestor. through your body." said the servant. Maximilian Morrel. whom our readers have already seen at Marseilles. it is true. be ours also." "Oh. half French. "To be sure. you are his friend. who so nearly became King of France. besides." said Morrel. will pass the sword of Renaud de Montauban. and whose cousin was Emperor of Germany. to a mesalliance. with the figure of a Guiche and the wit of a Mortemart. Albert.

"you did fight some time ago. "you think he will bear the cold better. I retreated with the rest." "You all know that I had the fancy of going to Africa. "Chateau-Renaud can tell us while we eat our breakfast. I do not prevent your sitting down to table." "You are quite right." . true. In consequence I embarked for Oran. Poor brute--accustomed to be covered up and to have a stove in the stable."Not worth speaking of?" cried Chateau-Renaud. you know I am starving. and I expect some one else. being unwilling to let such talents as mine sleep. but for me. which he terminated so entirely to my satisfaction." said Debray: "do not set him off on some long story." "On what occasion?" asked Beauchamp. I cannot bear duelling since two seconds. even had I been able to offer him the Golden Fleece and the Garter." said Debray. a diplomatist!" observed Debray. but the third morning my horse died of cold." said Debray. since we are not to sit down to table." observed the young aristocrat. for eight and forty hours. It is very well for you. whom I had chosen to arrange an affair. where I arrived just in time to witness the raising of the siege." "Exactly so." "Well. baron. I wished to try upon the Arabs the new pistols that had been given to me. "Diplomat or not. Morrel." said Morcerf. that." replied Beauchamp. "take a glass of sherry. "it is only a quarter past ten. that had I been king." returned Chateau-Renaud. I endured the rain during the day. "Beauchamp." "It is a road your ancestors have traced for you. I don't know. my good fellow. that Captain Morrel saved your life. and tell us all about it." "Well. true. on my word." said Debray. forced me to break the arm of one of my best friends. "life is not worth speaking of!--that is rather too philosophical." "Gentlemen. who only did so once"-"We gather from all this. I only know that he charged himself on my account with a mission. "It was only to fight as an amateur. "But I recollect perfectly one thing." "That's why you want to purchase my English horse." "Ah. Beauchamp. and the cold during the night tolerably well. who risk your life every day. the Arabian finds himself unable to bear ten degrees of cold in Arabia." "Ah. one whom you all know--poor Franz d'Epinay." said Albert gallantly. "Yes? but I doubt that your object was like theirs--to rescue the Holy Sepulchre. if I remember. and went from thence to Constantine. I should have instantly created him knight of all my orders. about what?" "The devil take me.

" cried Morcerf. but by giving me the whole." "Precisely?" asked Debray. for I have made a vow never to return to Africa. Six Arabs came up. laughing. and I already felt the cold steel on my neck." replied Chateau-Renaud. taking out his watch." "You were very much frightened. But that is not all--after rescuing me from the sword." interrupted Chateau-Renaud. the anniversary of the day on which my father was miraculously preserved. that day I owed an offering to bad fortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had on other days granted to us. shot the one who held me by the hair. heroism or not. and that there are only Arabs who cut off heads? ." "Yes. and not our memories. then?" asked Beauchamp." "Of whom?" "Of myself. which he will tell you some day when you are better acquainted with him. not by sharing his cloak with me. "ask Debray if he would sacrifice his English steed for a stranger?" "Not for a stranger. then from hunger by sharing with me--guess what?" "A Strasbourg pie?" asked Beauchamp. but I was then disarmed." returned Chateau-Renaud. and two were still left. and I had good reason to be so. "is an admirable one. "I was retreating on foot. of which we each of us ate a slice with a hearty appetite. and two more with my pistols. when this gentleman whom you see here charged them."You are mistaken. "Oh. the other swung a yataghan. as far as it lies in my power. the sacrifice. "I was chosen. "but for a friend I might. Martin." said Debray. yes. full gallop. one seized me by the hair (that is why I now wear it so short. "parbleu. "Well. his horse. count. perhaps. I endeavor to celebrate it by some"-"Heroic action." "The history to which M." replied Morcerf. "it was the 5th of September. It was very hard. He had assigned himself the task of saving a man's life that day." replied Morrel. and cleft the skull of the other with his sabre." "I divined that you would become mine. When I am rich I will order a statue of Chance from Klagmann or Marochetti." said Morrel. "No. do you think I cannot be saved as well as any one else. Morrel alludes. Albert?" "At half-past ten. for no one knows what may happen). chance caused that man to be myself. like St." continued Chateau-Renaud. What time do you breakfast. I shot two with my double-barrelled gun. "besides. smiling. to cut off my head." "The horse?" said Morcerf. to-day let us fill our stomachs. for my horse was dead. as I had the honor to tell you. he rescued me from the cold. you will give me five minutes' grace. sacrifice or not. therefore. "No. "for I also expect a preserver.

" "And where does he come from?" asked Debray. for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this morning.500.000 francs." "And I did more than that. "I think him capable of everything. "Yes there are. he was then at Rome. and I must make up for it. Unfortunately. "I do not know." "I know it." "I was at Rome during the last Carnival." "We know that. "for I caught one. Say so at once. and conducted me to a gloomy spot." said Debray." interrupted Beauchamp. and that. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum of 4." said Albert." "Well. "You have already answered the question once." "Come. and for a most curious one. and to listen to your history. but what you do not know is that I was carried off by bandits. then. it will be given to some one who has done nothing to deserve it. I had not above 1. that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend or Marennes.000 Roman crowns--about 24. with the five minutes' grace." "Well." "And I say to you. I was ." said Beauchamp. fabulous as it promises to be. I hope so--two benefactors of humanity. we are sufficiently well-bred to excuse you. like Madame de Maintenon. and we shall have at table--at least. for I found them ugly enough to frighten me. fabulous as it may seem. and most hideous. "are there any materials for an article in what you are going to tell us?" "Yes." "Go on. "we have only one Monthyon prize." "There are no bandits." "What shall we do?" said Debray. "confess that your cook is behindhand. "I narrowly escaped catching a fever there. but so vaguely that I venture to put it a second time. "Yes." cried Debray.Our breakfast is a philanthropic one. you are going to replace the dish by a story." said Beauchamp." said Chateau-Renaud." "Really." replied Morcerf. but since that time who knows where he may have gone?" "And you think him capable of being exact?" demanded Debray. or rather most admirable ones. "that is the way the Academy mostly escapes from the dilemma. I tell it as a true one from beginning to end. we have only ten left. when I invited him three months ago. The brigands had carried me off. called the Catacombs of Saint Sebastian. my dear Albert." "I will profit by them to tell you something about my guest." "I beg pardon.

" added Chateau-Renaud." "Armed to the teeth?" "He had not even a knitting-needle." "No.at the end of my journey and of my credit. he is a man about my own size. "Well. he of whom I speak is the lord and master of this grain of sand." said Maximilian. a Perseus freeing Andromeda." "But he paid your ransom?" "He said two words to the chief and I was free. 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." "There is no Count of Monte Cristo" said Debray. then?" "I believe so. he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am going to present to you. "I do not think so. and Signor Luigi Vampa. would have scrupulously kept his word. "Just so." ." "No." "Why. he has purchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany. an atom in the infinite." "Precisely!" cried Albert." "He is rich. "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." "I think I can assist your researches. "Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?" "He comes possibly from the Holy Land." "No. his name is the Count of Monte Cristo. as the Mortemarts did the Dead Sea. "A man whose name is Franz d'Epinay or Albert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuring them. he is a second Ariosto. such was the name of the chief of these bandits." "Ah." "But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns." said Chateau-Renaud. of this atom. this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus. 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. and one of his ancestors possessed Calvary." "And they apologized to him for having carried you off?" said Beauchamp." "But that ought to be visible. with the air of a man who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly.

"Yes. and make my secretaries strangle me. and was waited on by mutes and by women to whom Cleopatra was a painted strumpet. every one has not black slaves. Albert? I will send you to Constantinople. Franz went in with his eyes blindfolded." The two young men looked at Morcerf as if to say. "what you tell us is so extraordinary. because your ambassadors and your consuls do not tell you of them--they have no time. not a word of this before him. every one exists." "Ah." said Debray." cried Albert." "Have you read the 'Arabian Nights'?" "What a question!" "Well. Morcerf?" asked Beauchamp. They are too much taken up with interfering in the affairs of their countrymen who travel. How will you have them protect you? The Chamber cuts down their salaries every day." "You say very true. you are vexed." responded Debray. . He has even a name taken from the book." "Pardieu." "Which means?" "Which means that my Count of Monte Cristo is one of those fishermen. Will you be ambassador. "it is very lucky that M. or are you laughing at us?" "And I also." "Doubtless. for heaven's sake. but Franz has. are you not. for they did not come in until after he had taken hashish." said Albert." "And you have seen this cavern. and suddenly they open some mysterious cavern filled with the wealth of the Indies. "No. Morrel comes to aid me. lest on the first demonstration I make in favor of Mehemet Ali. so that now they have scarcely any. "have heard something like this from an old sailor named Penelon." said Morrel thoughtfully. Only he is not quite sure about the women."That is what deceives you. since he calls himself Sinbad the Sailor.--"Are you mad. but not in the same way. Debray. "but this has nothing to do with the existence of the Count of Monte Cristo." "Ah. do you know if the persons you see there are rich or poor." "I do not understand you. the Sultan send me the bowstring. that he thus gives a clew to the labyrinth?" "My dear Albert." "No." "Now you get angry. so that what he took for women might have been simply a row of statues. if their sacks of wheat are not rubies or diamonds? They seem like poor fishermen. and attack our poor agents. and has a cave filled with gold.

than from the sight of the executioner and the culprit. idlers on the Boulevard de Gand or the Bois de Boulogne." added Chateau-Renaud. always excepting his little arrangements with the Italian banditti." "Wild eyes." "He eats. rail on at your ease. "No Count of Monte Cristo" added Debray." cried Beauchamp." "There are no Italian banditti. This man has often made me shudder. more from hearing the cold and calm manner in which he spoke of every description of torture. somewhat piqued." "Have you seen the Greek mistress?" "I have both seen and heard her. "you have described him feature for feature." continued Beauchamp. the iris of which contracts or dilates at pleasure. an arsenal of weapons that would do credit to an Arabian fortress. it seems to me we are not of the same race." "Just so. "For a man not connected with newspapers. politeness unexceptionable. make you sign a flaming parchment. "your Count of Monte Cristo is a very fine fellow. "Or. but so little. or steps in the ante-chamber. surrendering your soul to him as Esau did his birth-right?" "Rail on." "Confess you have dreamed this. and one day that we were viewing an execution. I thought I should faint." "Did he not conduct you to the ruins of the Colosseum and suck your blood?" asked Beauchamp. "His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo. Yes." "I am highly flattered. if you will. capital." "Laugh. and think of this man." said Morcerf. "facial angle strongly developed." The involuntary start every one gave proved how much Morcerf's narrative had impressed them. having delivered you. the Countess G----." returned Beauchamp. sharp and white teeth.a princely retinue. Lucien. then?" "Yes. and Greek mistresses. magnificent forehead." "Ah." said Beauchamp. horses that cost six thousand francs apiece. livid complexion. Albert. and heard her one morning when I breakfasted with the count. declared that the count was a vampire. "At the same time. "No vampire." "He must be a vampire. here is the pendant to the famous sea-serpent of the Constitutionnel. and let us sit down to breakfast. black beard. and Albert himself could not wholly refrain from manifesting sudden emotion. "There is half-past ten striking. keen and cutting politeness. "When I look at you Parisians." said Debray. the door had itself opened ." said Debray. But the sound of the clock had not died away when Germain announced. who knew Lord Ruthven. He had not heard a carriage stop in the street. it can hardly be called eating. I saw her at the theatre. gentlemen." returned Morcerf.

it seems. However." At these words it was still possible to observe in Monte Cristo the concentrated look. I hope you will excuse the two or three seconds I am behindhand. I request you to allow me to introduce him as my friend. "You have never seen our Africans. and a slight tinge of red colored his pale cheeks. an editor of a paper. that. "so much the better. But. who was by this time perfectly master of himself again. monsieur. And we have just heard. "is the politeness of kings." interrupted Morrel. Every article of dress--hat. M. you perhaps have not heard in Italy. however strange the speech might seem. He seemed scarcely five and thirty. "Punctuality." replied Albert. which was in general so clear. Beauchamp. and the terror of the French government. he has an open look about him that pleases me. but it is not the same with travellers. captain of Spahis. it was impossible to be offended at it. in spite of his national celebrity." continued Albert. with his aristocratic glance and his knowledge of the world. smiling. But what struck everybody was his extreme resemblance to the portrait Debray had drawn. M. and limpid when he pleased. beneath this uniform beats one of the bravest and noblest hearts in the whole army. They are the Count of Chateau-Renaud. had penetrated at once all that was penetrable in Monte Cristo." This exclamation. who had hitherto saluted every one with courtesy. whose nobility goes back to the twelve peers." . coat. The count appeared. where. who hastened towards him holding out his hand in a ceremonial manner.noiselessly. into the centre of the room. "Albert has not deceived us. at the same time." said Monte Cristo. but the most fastidious dandy could have found nothing to cavil at in his toilet. dressed with the greatest simplicity. and especially Morrel. but at the same time with coldness and formality. Maximilian Morrel. "Ah. and especially in France. private secretary to the minister of the interior." "My dear count. The count advanced. the intonation was so soft that. "Why should he doubt it?" said Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud. de Morcerf. for the count is a most singular being. "it is a handsome uniform. and slight trembling of the eyelid that show emotion. "Well. "In reality. five hundred leagues are not to be accomplished without some trouble. who. and M. although I have seen him to-day for the first time. and whose ancestors had a place at the Round Table." said the count." At this name the count. but of whom. and so heroic a one. "You wear the uniform of the new French conquerors. "of a new deed of his." replied the latter. lustrous. stepped a pace forward." said he. What say you. according to one of your sovereigns. and boots--was from the first makers. "Let me go on. which corresponded to the count's own thought rather than to what Albert was saying. whom I had invited in consequence of the promise you did me the honor to make. since his paper is prohibited there. who looked at Monte Cristo with wonder. it is forbidden to beat the postilions. "I was announcing your visit to some of my friends. changing color. Lucien Debray. and approached Albert. M. I think. you have a noble heart. in spite of the singular remark he has made about me. count?" said Albert. and whom I now present to you. surprised everybody. Morrel!" "Ma foi." "Oh." No one could have said what caused the count's voice to vibrate so deeply." replied the count. and what made his eye flash. captain. "Never. gloves.

The count was. "permit me to make a confession which must form my excuse for any improprieties I may commit." returned the count. I beg you. My dear count. and a stranger to such a degree. let us breakfast." said he. Albert remarked this. who have not always any food to eat." They passed silently into the breakfast-room. for I have not eaten since yesterday morning. I slept. and to-day. and rarely anything to drink. expressing his fears lest. I am a stranger." "What." added Debray. that the fare of the Rue du Helder is not so much to your taste as that of the Piazza di Spagni. so that I was somewhat late. "A great man in every country. I eat everywhere. then." "But you can sleep when you please. M. "Germain informs me that breakfast is ready." cried all the guests. I ought to have consulted you on the point." said the count. and swallows' nests in China. it may be remembered. "but. unfortunately. or when I am hungry without feeling inclined to eat." muttered Beauchamp. allow me to show you the way. or too Arabian. Debray. that you reproach me with my want of appetite. "decidedly he is a great man. to excuse if you find anything in me too Turkish." "You have a recipe for it?" "An infallible one. and that is." "Yes." said Chateau-Renaud. and of everything." "That would be invaluable to us in Africa. and up to the present time I have followed the Eastern customs. "My dear count." "A great man in his own country. The French way of living is utterly unknown to me. and every one took his place. "you would not give one thought of such a thing for a traveller like myself. monsieur?" said Morrel. is my day of appetite. "you have not eaten for four and twenty hours?" "No." "And you ate in your carriage?" asked Morcerf. as I generally do when I am weary without having the courage to amuse myself. that this is the first time I have ever been at Paris. pilau at Constantinople. who has successively lived on maccaroni at Naples. olla podrida at Valencia. only I eat but little."Gentlemen." said Monte Cristo. "I was forced to go out of my road to obtain some information near Nimes." "With what an air he says all this. "Yes." "Did you know me better. seating himself. "I fear one thing. polenta at Milan. and have had some dishes prepared expressly. and therefore I did not choose to stop." replied the count. therefore. the Parisian mode of life should displease the traveller in the most essential point. "Gentlemen. a most temperate guest. which are entirely in contrast to the Parisian. "No. karrick in India. Now. too Italian." said Albert. a recipe excellent for a . at the outset. smiling.

However. as became a journalist." "I had three similar ones. another to our holy father the Pope. "The Sultan." replied the Count. "No. and I had it hollowed out. "Oh. given by the Emperor Napoleon to his predecessor. and prepare my pills myself. "And is it your cook who prepares these pills?" asked Beauchamp. though not so fine. I think he tasted them one day. "the Pope. . Ten minutes after one is taken. "you always carry this drug about you?" "Always. between the Tigris and the Euphrates." "But. This ball had an acrid and penetrating odor. no. who had it set in his tiara. who mounted it in his sabre. 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. The casket passed around the table. "although my mother has some remarkable family jewels." "Would it be an indiscretion to ask to see those precious pills?" continued Beauchamp." said Beauchamp. monsieur. was very incredulous." "And it was Peppino you saved. and the largest I have ever seen. It is a mixture of excellent opium." returned the count." replied Morcerf. "And what did these two sovereigns give you in exchange for these magnificent presents?" asked Debray. Ask Baron Franz d'Epinay. was it not?" cried Morcerf. he spoke with so much simplicity that it was evident he spoke the truth. the sight of the emerald made them naturally incline to the former belief. "I gave one to the Sultan." returned the count." "May we inquire what is this recipe?" asked Debray." returned Monte Cristo. "it was for him that you obtained pardon?" "Perhaps. or that he was mad. and formed into pills. but rendered it more commodious for the purpose I intended. "I make no secret of it." "This is a magnificent emerald. smiling." "Yes." replied Monte Cristo. hoping to take him at a disadvantage. which I fetched myself from Canton in order to have it pure. which might not awake when i