The Count The Count of of Monte Cristo Monte Cristo

by Alexandre Dumas (Père)

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


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

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


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?” 5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


“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 deadleaf color peculiar to the buildings of the country, and within coated with whitewash, like a Spanish posada. A young and beautiful girl, with hair as black as jet, her eyes as velvety as the gazelle’s, was leaning with her back against the wainscot, rubbing in her slender delicately moulded fingers a bunch of heath blossoms, the flowers of which she was picking off and strewing on the floor; her arms, bare to the elbow, brown, and modelled after those of the Arlesian Venus, moved with a kind of restless impatience, and she tapped the earth with her arched and supple foot, so as to display the pure and full shape of her well-turned leg, in its red cotton, gray and blue clocked, stocking. At three paces from her, seated in a chair which he balanced on two legs, leaning his elbow on an old worm-eaten 23

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

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

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

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


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


whose shade seemed to restore somewhat of calmness to his senses. “He seems besotted. laughing. Catalan.” said he. “I called you because you were running like a madman.” was Caderousse’s reply. but did not say a word. when a man has friends.” said Danglars. Catalan! Hallo. said Caderousse. “You called me. “Are we mistaken.” said Caderousse. Fernand looked at them both with a stupefied air. “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. but.” added Danglars. “Good-day. said. to prevent his swallowing three or four pints of water unnecessarily!” 29 .“Hallo. pushing Caderousse with his knee. and slowly entered the arbor. and perceived Caderousse sitting at table with Danglars. and I was afraid you would throw yourself into the sea. moreover. didn’t you?” And he fell. can’t you make up your mind?” Fernand wiped away the perspiration steaming from his brow. “Well”. Fernand! where are you running to?” exclaimed a voice. “Why. The young man stopped suddenly. “Well. on one of the seats which surrounded the table. under an arbor. rather than sat down. looked around him. and is Dantes triumphant in spite of all we have believed?” “Why. they are not only to offer him a glass of wine. and whose coolness somewhat of refreshment to his exhausted body. and turning towards the young man. we must inquire into that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sir. we will not forget you.” “Sire. and that is another sacrifice made to the royal cause. I went straight to the Duc de Blacas. M.” continued the king.” “Never mind. then?” “I think not. I forgot. “I alighted at the Hotel de Madrid. de Villefort.” “But you will see him. “I forgot you and M.” he replied.” “We shall see. sire. go and rest. above the order of Notre-Dame-du-Mont-Carmel and St. with some asperity.’ and especially so when they can add.’“ “Sire.” “Ah. and gave it to Villefort) – “in the meanwhile take this cross.” “But you have seen him?” “Sire.” said Louis. ‘And we are on the track of the guilty persons. smiling in a manner which proved that all these questions were not made without a motive. 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. “the police think that they have disposed of the whole matter when they say. I will no longer detain you. Noirtier are not on the best terms possible. Louis. be amply satisfied on this point at least. sire. ‘A murder has been committed.“How strange. “No. near the cross of St. Of course you stopped at your father’s?” A feeling of faintness came over Villefort. Lazare. I trust.” 126 . and for which you should be recompensed. for you must be fatigued after so long a journey. in the Rue de Tournon. In the meanwhile” (the king here detached the cross of the Legion of Honor which he usually wore over his blue coat. make your mind easy. your majesty will.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

have deprived Villefort of his office had it not been for Noirtier. always smouldering in the south.’s half-filled snuff-box. and thus the Girondin of ‘93 and the Senator of 1806 protected him who so lately had been his protector. Villefort. made but a faint attempt to parry this unexpected blow. a return which was unprecedented in the past. Every one knows the history of the famous return from Elba. therefore. – he found on the table there Louis XVIII. Noirtier was a true prophet. 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. who was all powerful at court. doubtless.Chapter 13: The Hundred Days. However. scarcely was the imperial power established – that is. to rekindle the flames of civil war. Napoleon would. 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. Louis XVIII. 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. M. as he had predicted. being suspected of royalism. 139 . 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. although M. and things progressed rapidly. in spite of the authorities. – scarcely had this occurred when Marseilles began. scarcely had the emperor re-entered the Tuileries and begun to issue orders from the closet into which we have introduced our readers. and will probably remain without a counterpart in the future. de Blacas had duly forwarded the brevet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

in order to obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the imperfect light that struggled through the grating. – 177 . and a long (and still black) beard reaching down to his breast. Large drops of perspiration were now standing on his brow. betokened a man more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties than his physical strength.Chapter 16: A Learned Italian. he stooped and raised the stone easily in spite of its weight.” said he. he said. then. He received the enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident pleasure. Dantes almost carried him towards the window. fitting it into its place. He had a deep-set. He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly welcome. “Let us first see. 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. 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. with hair blanched rather by suffering and sorrow than by age. “whether it is possible to remove the traces of my entrance here – our future tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely ignorant of it. as though his chilled affections were rekindled and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent. 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. He was a man of small stature. almost buried beneath the thick gray eyebrow. and the bold outline of his strongly marked features. His thin face. penetrating eye. The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty-five years.” Advancing to the opening. deeply furrowed by care.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

from the Arabic to the Provencal. This made him less uneasy. who perhaps employed this ingenious means of learning some of the secrets of his trade. was accompanied with salutes of artillery. as they have no visible means of support. and then. Without having been in the school of the Abbe Faria. 260 . He was very well known to the customs officers of the coast. 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. persons always troublesome and frequently indiscreet. and who live by hidden and mysterious means which we must suppose to be a direct gift of providence. than if the newcomer had proved to be a customs officer. and as there was between these worthies and himself a perpetual battle of wits. but this supposition also disappeared like the first. It is fair to assume that Dantes was on board a smuggler. and heard the distant report. country. or occupation. like that of kings. gave him great facilities of communication. and this. while it spared him interpreters. he had at first thought that Dantes might be an emissary of these industrious guardians of rights and duties. it must be owned. with the small boats sailing along the coast. 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. either with the vessels he met at sea. At first the captain had received Dantes on board with a certain degree of distrust. he was instantly struck with the idea that he had on board his vessel one whose coming and going. But the skilful manner in which Dantes had handled the lugger had entirely reassured him. who are always seen on the quays of seaports. or with the people without name.Chapter 22: The Smugglers. when he beheld the perfect tranquillity of his recruit. when he saw the light plume of smoke floating above the bastion of the Chateau d’If.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but it wore the same wild. sprinkled fresh sand over the spot from which it had been taken. heaping on it broken masses of rocks and rough fragments of crumbling granite. they had scarcely done so when they received intelligence that a guard285 . filled his pockets with gems. filling the interstices with earth. power. he impatiently awaited the return of his companions. With the first light Dantes resumed his search. put the box together as well and securely as he could. he lifted the stone. This done. On the sixth day. Again he climbed the rocky height he had ascended the previous evening. From a distance Dantes recognized the rig and handling of The Young Amelia. then carefully watering these new plantations. the smugglers returned. and dragging himself with affected difficulty towards the landing-place. he scrupulously effaced every trace of footsteps. which yearned to return to dwell among mankind. he met his companions with an assurance that. He then inquired how they had fared in their trip. and influence which are always accorded to wealth – that first and greatest of all the forces within the grasp of man. although considerably better than when they quitted him. into which he deftly inserted rapidly growing plants. he replaced the stone. and then carefully trod down the earth to give it everywhere a uniform appearance. such as the wild myrtle and flowering thorn. and to assume the rank. quitting the grotto. leaving the approach to the cavern as savage-looking and untrodden as he had found it. then. Day. 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.Chapter 25: The Unknown. for which Dantes had so eagerly and impatiently waited with open eyes. although successful in landing their cargo in safety. barren aspect when seen by the rays of the morning sun which it had done when surveyed by the fading glimmer of eve. To this question the smugglers replied that. Descending into the grotto. he still suffered acutely from his late accident. and strained his view to catch every peculiarity of the landscape. again dawned.

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

Dantes. and was not expected back in less than three weeks or a month. At the moment of his arrival a small yacht was under trial in the bay. was desirous of possessing a specimen of their skill. The following morning Jacopo set sail for Marseilles. 287 . the price agreed upon between the Englishman and the Genoese builder was forty thousand francs. Then Dantes departed for Genoa. upon condition that he should be allowed to take immediate possession. offering sixty thousand francs. and expressions of cordial interest in all that concerned him. he ceased to importune him further. applied to its owner to transfer it to him. The delighted builder then offered his services in providing a suitable crew for the little vessel. who at first tried all his powers of persuasion to induce him to remain as one of the crew. this yacht had been built by order of an Englishman. distributing so liberal a gratuity among her crew as to secure for him the good wishes of all. The proposal was too advantageous to be refused.large fortune. by which time the builder reckoned upon being able to complete another. Dantes took leave of the captain. The term for which Edmond had engaged to serve on board The Young Amelia having expired. Dantes proceeded to make his final adieus on board The Young Amelia. 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. To the captain he promised to write when he had made up his mind as to his future plans. Having seen Jacopo fairly out of the harbor. but having been told the history of the legacy. but this Dantes declined with many thanks. having heard that the Genoese excelled all other builders along the shores of the Mediterranean in the construction of fastsailing vessels. left him by an uncle. whose sole heir he was. A bargain was therefore struck. Dantes led the owner of the yacht to the dwelling of a Jew. and upon their return the Jew counted out to the shipbuilder the sum of sixty thousand francs in bright gold pieces. struck with the beauty and capability of the little vessel. with directions from Dantes to join him at the Island of Monte Cristo. the more so as the person for whom the yacht was intended had gone upon a tour through Switzerland. who. retired with the latter for a few minutes to a small back parlor.

so constructed as to be concealed from all but himself. bets were offered to any amount that she was bound for Spain. while Africa was positively reported by many persons as her intended course. Dantes had carefully noted the general appearance of the shore. 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. seemed to be animated with almost human intelligence. But their wonder was soon changed to admiration at seeing the perfect skill with which Dantes handled the helm. The island was utterly deserted. but no one thought of Monte Cristo. The spectators followed the little vessel with their eyes as long as it remained visible. The following day Dantes sailed with his yacht from Genoa. his boat had proved herself a first-class sailer. his treasure was just as he had left it. under the inspection of an immense crowd drawn together by curiosity to see the rich Spanish nobleman who preferred managing his own yacht. instead of landing at the usual place. and bore no evidence of having been visited since he went away. 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. 288 . Early on the following morning he commenced the removal of his riches. Dantes furnishing the dimensions and plan in accordance with which they were to be constructed. and his principal pleasure consisted in managing his yacht himself. The boat. others the Island of Elba. The builder cheerfully undertook the commission.saying he was accustomed to cruise about quite alone. and promised to have these secret places completed by the next day. he dropped anchor in the little creek. they then turned their conjectures upon her probable destination. Yet thither it was that Dantes guided his vessel. so promptly did it obey the slightest touch. and at Monte Cristo he arrived at the close of the second day. indeed. and had come the distance from Genoa in thirty-five hours. the closet to contain three divisions. and. Some insisted she was making for Corsica. and ere nightfall the whole of his immense wealth was safely deposited in the compartments of the secret locker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sir. after fastening a thirty-six pound cannon-ball to their feet.” “No matter.” replied De Boville.“As I have already told you. and threw him into the sea. “at the end of his teeth. and. they fastened a thirty-six pound ball to his feet. “So can I. “he was drowned?” “Unquestionably. in supreme good-humor at the certainty of recovering his two hundred thousand francs.” And he shouted with laughter. – “no matter.” “That would have been difficult.” “Really!” exclaimed the Englishman. he was a very dangerous man.” continued the Englishman who first gained his composure. and they simply throw the dead into the sea.” said the Englishman. sir. but he laughed as the English do. “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. I can fancy it. “Well. fortunately. “Yes.” “Well.” continued the inspector of prisons. and he laughed too.” observed the Englishman as if he were slow of comprehension.” 332 . 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 so.

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

Beneath these lines was written in another hand: “See note above – nothing can be done. 1815. the Englishman understood that it might have been added by some inspector who had taken a momentary interest in Dantes’ situation. found it impossible to give any effect to the interest he had felt. had become. the application dated 10th April. placed in a bracket against his name: – Edmond Dantes. read the examination. As to the note which accompanied this. took an active part in the return from the Island of Elba. examination. from discretion. An inveterate Bonapartist. kept back by Villefort. had seated himself in a 334 . As we have said. – the accusation. in which Morrel. He folded up the accusation quietly. and that he might not disturb the Abbe Faria’s pupil in his researches. Morrel’s petition. and discovered that the note in the bracket was the same writing as the certificate – that is to say. from the remarks we have quoted. To be kept in strict solitary confinement. There he found everything arranged in due order. and to be closely watched and guarded. perused. and saw that the name of Noirtier was not mentioned in it. M. de Villefort’s marginal notes. under the second restoration. This petition to Napoleon. by the deputy procureur’s advice. too. 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.inspector had related interested him greatly. 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. but who had. Then he saw through the whole thing. for after having perused the first documents he turned over the leaves until he reached the deposition respecting Edmond Dantes. the inspector.” He compared the writing in the bracket with the writing of the certificate placed beneath Morrel’s petition. was in Villefort’s handwriting. and put it as quietly in his pocket.

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this all?” “No. 287. “To questions frankly put. have deprived me. my vessel arrives safely.” said he. “a straightforward answer should be given.” replied the Englishman.” said he.” At this almost brutal speech Morrel turned deathly pale. as I hope. “Yes. and looked at the man.” “I know that. “Well.” “I recognize them. yet the report is current in Marseilles that you are not able to meet your liabilities.000 francs. for its arrival will again procure me the credit which the numerous accidents. of which I have been the victim.500 francs payable shortly.” repeated he. and assigned to our house by the holders. “But as a man of honor should answer another. if.” replied the Englishman. “I will not. and this last resource be gone” – the poor man’s eyes filled with tears.” said the other. he would be unable to honor his own signature. who spoke with more assurance than he had hitherto shown. they are all signed by you. I have for the end of the month these bills which have been assigned to us by the house of Pascal. “if this last resource fail you?” 340 . shall you pay these with the same punctuality?” Morrel shuddered. whose face was suffused. but if the Pharaon should be lost. “conceal from you. “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. that while your probity and exactitude up to this moment are universally acknowledged. tell me fairly. in all.” said Morrel. who had himself conducted it for five and thirty years – never has anything bearing the signature of Morrel & Son been dishonored. Yes. for the first time in his life. amounting to nearly 55. “Sir. I shall pay.500 francs. and the house of Wild & Turner of Marseilles. as he thought that. after a moment’s silence.” It is impossible to describe what Morrel suffered during this enumeration. and now here are 32. sir.” continued he.“Just so. “Two hundred and eighty-seven thousand five hundred francs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

who had shown themselves so considerate towards him. Cocles thus remained in his accustomed tranquillity.000 francs. if not of tranquillity. Morrel had not only engagements with the house of Thomson & French. Emmanuel. The bills signed by Morrel were presented at his office with scrupulous exactitude. and. that if he had to repay on the 15th the 50.000 francs of M. and have those 300. The extension provided for by the agent of Thomson & French. Great. he had time granted. and a ray of hope. whether through envy or stupidity. and some even came to a contrary decision. he must be a ruined man. and get only six or eight per cent of our money back again. as well as the debt due to the inspector of prisons. and could only attribute it to some such selfish argument as this: – “We had better help a man who owes us nearly 300. and the general opinion was that the complete ruin of the unfortunate shipowner had been postponed only 350 .Chapter 30: The Fifth of September. under the reverses which had successively weighed down Morrel. therefore. thanks to the delay granted by the Englishman. was the astonishment when at the end of the month. he could by no means account for this generous conduct on the part of Thomson & French towards him. however. The same day he told his wife. at the moment when Morrel expected it least. When he thought the matter over. returned to the family. and on the 30th the 32. de Boville. for which. and not friends. as he had said. and. It was Morrel alone who remembered with alarm. he cancelled all his obligations with his usual punctuality.” Unfortunately. Still confidence was not restored to all minds.500 francs of bills. Unfortunately. and his daughter all that had occurred. it was impossible for him to remain solvent.000 francs at the end of three months than hasten his ruin. were paid by Cocles with equal punctuality. The opinion of all the commercial men was that. 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. in business he had correspondents. all Morrel’s correspondents did not take this view.

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

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

trembling. but also of the duties of a man.000. this day he did not leave the house. and expected promotion on the first vacancy.000 francs to meet debts amounting to 287. At the time when he decided on his profession his father had no desire to choose for him. Julie saw the latter leave it pale. he appeared very calm. They had not mistaken the gravity of this event.500 francs. However. He was a strong-minded. opened the portfolio. mademoiselle. 353 . For a year he had held this rank. a portfolio. had great influence over his father. which. but had consulted young Maximilian’s taste. when Morrel went down to his dinner. 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. making the best of everything. and a bag of money. and had in consequence studied hard. This calmness was more alarming to the two women than the deepest dejection would have been. gave him 14. but returned to his office. or 8. and left it as sub-lieutenant of the 53d of the line. not only of the obligations imposed on a soldier. mademoiselle. and his features betraying the utmost consternation.000. and he thus gained the name of “the stoic. In his regiment Maximilian Morrel was noted for his rigid observance.though hardly two and twenty. passed brilliantly through the Polytechnic School. and read the Semaphore. She would have questioned him as he passed by her. upright young man. and did not even know what it meant. He had at once declared for a military life. All his funds amounted to 6. his bills receivable up to the 5th to 4.” We need hardly say that many of those who gave him this epithet repeated it because they had heard it. “Oh. for the moment after Morrel had entered his private office with Cocles.000 or 5. After dinner Morrel usually went out and used to take his coffee at the Phocaean club.000 francs. and only raised his hands to heaven and exclaimed. but the worthy creature hastened down the staircase with unusual precipitation. Morrel examined the ledgers. He had not even the means for making a possible settlement on account. and counted the money. 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.

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

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

She cast her eyes again over the note to peruse it a second time. “what is your pleasure? I do not know you. with a strong Italian accent.out of the apartment. 15. it may 356 . The young girl hastily took the letter from him. raised her eyes. “Yes. and saw there was a postscript. Julie hesitated. indeed. You promised to obey me implicitly. but on the first step of the staircase she found a man holding a letter in his hand. take from the corner of the mantelpiece a purse netted in red silk. “It concerns the best interests of your father. She opened it quickly and read: – “Go this moment to the Allees de Meillan. or should any one else go in your place.” said the messenger.” replied Julie with hesitation. handing it to her. ask the porter for the key of the room on the fifth floor. “Are you not Mademoiselle Julie Morrel?” inquired the man.” “Read this letter. but he had disappeared. She read: – “It is important that you should fulfil this mission in person and alone.” The young girl uttered a joyful cry. If you go accompanied by any other person. sir. “Sinbad the Sailor. 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.” he said. enter the house No. Remember your oath. enter the apartment. It is important that he should receive it before eleven o’clock. But there is no need to know danger in order to fear it. the porter will reply that he does not know anything about it. and give it to your father. looked round to question the messenger.” This postscript decreased greatly the young girl’s happiness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and a Nubian. “I do not know if you are of my opinion. returned look for look.’ and really I have nothing to complain of. find on my return my temporary retirement in a state of great disorder. and also in front of another door. and dressed in a plain white tunic. 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. “Now. Pray observe. I may say with Lucullus. my dear sir. is the supper ready?” At this moment the tapestry moved aside.’“ “Alas. those of Raoul in the ‘Huguenots. made a sign to his master that all was prepared in the dining-room. it is at your disposal. “Sir. but as. Let me now endeavor to make you forget this temporary unpleasantness. that I too much respect the laws of hospitality to ask your name or title. in which they sunk to the instep. during the greater portion of the year. it is yours to share. “a thousand excuses for the precaution taken in your introduction hither. from the ceiling hung a lamp of Venetian glass. leading into a second apartment which seemed to be brilliantly illuminated. such as is my supper. if the secret of this abode were discovered. and. The host gave Franz time to recover from his surprise. I only request you to give me one by which I may have the 383 . for instance. after a pause. which would be exceedingly annoying. if you will. but because I should not have the certainty I now possess of separating myself from all the rest of mankind at pleasure. a tolerable supper and pretty comfortable beds.” “Ma foi. I would have prepared for it. I have always observed that they bandage people’s eyes who penetrate enchanted palaces. moreover. I should doubtless. for what I see makes me think of the wonders of the ‘Arabian Nights.the handles resplendent with gems.” said the unknown to Franz. and offer you what no doubt you did not expect to find here – that is to say. while the feet rested on a Turkey carpet. black as ebony.” he said. But such as is my hermitage. of beautiful shape and color. not for the loss it occasioned me. “make no apologies. tapestry hung before the door by which Franz had entered. not even taking his eyes off him. Ali. this island is deserted. if I could have anticipated the honor of your visit.” replied Franz.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

whose dress I now wear. The bandits shouted with laughter. The two young persons obeyed. and I set fire to the villa San-Felice to procure a wedding-dress for my betrothed.” “Well. ‘do wolves rend each other?’ – ‘Who are you?’ inquired the sentinel. but I came to ask something more than to be your companion.’ said the sentinel. – ‘I have killed your chief. turning towards his friend. ‘and you seek admittance into our ranks?’ – ‘Welcome!’ cried several bandits from Ferrusino. Cucumetto. – ‘Good!’ said the sentry. a croak answered this signal. ‘And what have you done to aspire to this honor?’ demanded the lieutenant. Pampinara. ‘you may now go on. I understand.’ said the sentinel. shepherd of the San-Felice farm. ‘Here is a young man who seeks and wishes to speak to you. – ‘I wish to say that I am tired of a shepherd’s life. The retreat of Rocca Bianca was at the top of a small mountain. vice Cucumetto deceased.” said Franz.’ said the lieutenant.’ – Luigi and Teresa again set forward. then. went before Teresa. – ‘Ah.him. and all at once found themselves in the presence of twenty bandits.’ An hour afterwards Luigi Vampa was chosen captain. “what think you of citizen Luigi Vampa?” 428 .’ – ‘What do you want?’ – ‘I would speak with your companions who are in the glade at Rocca Bianca.’ – ‘And what may that be?’ inquired the bandits with astonishment.’ was Vampa’s reply.’ – ‘Follow me. Teresa and Luigi reached the summit. go first. ‘or. At the end of ten minutes the bandit made them a sign to stop. as they went on Teresa clung tremblingly to her lover at the sight of weapons and the glistening of carbines through the trees.’ – Vampa smiled disdainfully at this precaution on the part of the bandit. who had recognized Luigi Vampa.’ said the young man. – ‘I come to ask to be your captain. and continued to advance with the same firm and easy step as before. Then the bandit thrice imitated the cry of a crow. as you know your way. and Anagni. – ‘I am Luigi Vampa. 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. – ‘Yes. – ‘What has he to say?’ inquired the young man who was in command in the chief’s absence. my dear Albert.

and he is on the open sea. he has a good understanding with the shepherds in the plains. Albert. It depends on the distance he may be from the city. “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. “The explanation would be too long. the fishermen of the Tiber.” inquired Franz of his companion. they follow him on the waters. and when that time has elapsed he allows another hour’s grace. Guanouti. or La Riccia. he reappears suddenly at Albano.“I say he is a myth. twelve hours. “are you still disposed to go to the Colosseum by the outer wall?” 429 . if the money is not forthcoming. At the sixtieth minute of this hour. my dear landlord. and that settles the account.” replied Franz.” “And what may a myth be?” inquired Pastrini. at Giglio. then they pursue him.” “Then the police have vainly tried to lay hands on him?” “Why. he blows out the prisoner’s brains with a pistol-shot. and the smugglers of the coast. or plants his dagger in his heart.” “Well. “and never had an existence.” “And how does he behave towards travellers?” “Alas! his plan is very simple. and he has suddenly taken refuge in the islands. and he is on the waters. Tivoli. and when they hunt for him there. whether he gives eight hours. or Monte Cristo. or a day wherein to pay their ransom. They seek for him in the mountains. you see.” replied Albert.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The young men. and the absence of balconies. therefore. And the thing was so much the more annoying. and Neapolitans were all faithful. he had been occupied in leaving his letters of introduction. Albert displayed his most dazzling and effective costumes each time he visited the theatres. and the principal actors were Coselli. to think that Albert de Morcerf. Still. Neither had he neglected to ascertain the name of the piece to be played that night at the Teatro Argentino. Alas. in a single day he had accomplished what his more serious-minded companion would have taken weeks to effect. Yes. with their orchestras from which it is impossible to see. 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. had reason to consider themselves fortunate in having the opportunity of hearing one of the best works by the composer of “Lucia di Lammermoor. delighted with his day’s work. but internally he was deeply wounded. and that upon his return he should astonish the Parisian world with the recital of his numerous love-affairs. besides this. he had seen (as he called it) all the remarkable sights at Rome. Albert had quitted Paris with the full conviction that he had only to show himself in Italy to carry all before him. his elegant toilet was wholly thrown away.” supported by three of the most renowned vocalists of Italy. Moriani. if not to their 441 . the most admired and most sought after of any young person of his day. and also what performers appeared in it. At five o’clock Albert returned. poor Albert! none of those interesting adventures fell in his way. Albert had never been able to endure the Italian theatres. and merely have his labor for his pains. and had received in return more invitations to balls and routs than it would be possible for him to accept. according to the characteristic modesty of a Frenchman. the lovely Genoese. all these defects pressed hard on a man who had had his stall at the Bouffes. in spite of this. and La Specchia. Florentines. and his self-love immensely piqued. The opera of “Parisina” was announced for representation. or open boxes. should thus be passed over. and had shared a lower box at the Opera. as. but.of the day. alas. Sometimes Albert would affect to make a joke of his want of success.

The Carnival was to commence on the morrow. at least to their lovers. although each of the three tiers of boxes is deemed equally aristocratic. and claims to notice. however. as elsewhere. knowing full well that among the different states and kingdoms in which this festivity is celebrated.” and although the box engaged for the two friends was sufficiently capacious to contain at least a dozen persons. that they are faithful even in their infidelity. moreover. was also possessed of considerable talent and ability. well-looking young man. – who knew but that. Albert. and deign to mingle in the follies of this time of liberty and relaxation. therefore Albert had not an instant to lose in setting forth the programme of his hopes. and all he gained was the painful conviction that the ladies of Italy have this advantage over those of France. for this reason. a more than sufficient sum to render him a personage of considerable importance in Paris. Yet he could not restrain a hope that in Italy. Albert. and an introduction might ensue that would procure him the offer of a seat in a 442 . With this design he had engaged a box in the most conspicuous part of the theatre. expectations. Another motive had influenced Albert’s selection of his seat. he was a viscount – a recently created one. he might not in truth attract the notice of some fair Roman. thus advantageously placed. certainly. generally styled the “nobility’s boxes. whether dated from 1399 or merely 1815. 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. but in the present day it is not necessary to go as far back as Noah in tracing a descent. and is. The box taken by Albert was in the first circle. Albert de Morcerf commanded an income of 50. there might be an exception to the general rule.husbands. and a genealogical tree is equally estimated. hoped to indemnify himself for all these slights and indifferences during the Carnival. it had cost less than would be paid at some of the French theatres for one admitting merely four occupants. and thought not of changing even for the splendid appearance of Albert de Morcerf. Rome is the spot where even the wisest and gravest throw off the usual rigidity of their lives. and exerted himself to set off his personal attractions by the aid of the most rich and elaborate toilet. besides being an elegant. but to crown all these advantages.000 livres.

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

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

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

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

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

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

and then. and was about to join the loud. for the countess. after gazing with a puzzled look at his face.” “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. until conviction seizes on his mind. The occupant of the box in which the Greek girl sat appeared to share the universal admiration that prevailed. Franz now listened to it for the third time. and begged to know what had happened. I must now beseech you to inform me who and what is her husband?” “Nay.all the emotions of jealousy. “Countess. The surprise and agitation occasioned by this full confirmation of Franz’s former suspicion had no doubt imparted a corresponding expression to his features. Franz had no difficulty in recognizing him as the mysterious inhabitant of Monte Cristo. Excited beyond his usual calm demeanor.” replied Franz. enthusiastic applause that followed. “I know no more of him than yourself. 449 . in a frenzy of rage and indignation. burst into a fit of laughter. his singular host evidently resided at Rome. his countenance being fully revealed. his hands fell by his sides. This duet is one of the most beautiful. “I asked you a short time since if you knew any particulars respecting the Albanian lady opposite. Franz rose with the audience.” returned Franz. expressive and terrible conceptions that has ever emanated from the fruitful pen of Donizetti. so tenderly expressive and fearfully grand as the wretched husband and wife give vent to their different griefs and passions. for he left his seat to stand up in front. totally unheeding her raillery. thrilled through the soul of Franz with an effect equal to his first emotions upon hearing it. and the half-uttered “bravos” expired on his lips. but suddenly his purpose was arrested. yet its notes. All doubt of his identity was now at an end. and whose voice and figure had seemed so familiar to him. so that.” answered the countess. he awakens his guilty wife to tell her that he knows her guilt and to threaten her with his vengeance. and the very same person he had encountered the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and to let those bandits see. and. true. – but you must really permit me to congratulate you on the ease and unconcern with which you resigned yourself to your fate. that although men get into troublesome scrapes all over the world. but services such as he had rendered could never be too often acknowledged. 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. Franz. All that. You owe me nothing but some trifle of 20.” said Albert. I shall never cease to dwell with grateful recollection on the prompt and important service you rendered me. who seemed attracted by some invisible influence towards the count. and therefore made no objection to Albert’s request. “you really exaggerate my trifling exertions. as long as I live. on the following morning. so that there is not much of a score between us. The first words that Albert uttered to his friend. which you have been saved out of your travelling expenses. there is no nation but the French that can smile even in the face of grim Death himself. “I deserve no credit for what I could not help.” “My very good friend and excellent neighbor. namely. after a short delay. “permit me to repeat the poor thanks I offered last night. has nothing to do with my 519 .” said Albert. believe me. however. but at once accompanied him to the desired spot. with a smile. and also to remember that to you I am indebted even for my life. “My dear count. a determination to take everything as I found it. and the perfect indifference you manifested as to the turn events might take. contained a request that Franz would accompany him on a visit to the count.” replied the count.Chapter 38: The Compact. advancing to meet him. in which terror was strangely mingled. and to assure you that the remembrance of all I owe to you will never be effaced from my memory.000 francs.” “Upon my word. the count joined them in the salon. the young man had warmly and energetically thanked the count on the previous evening.

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

delighted at the idea of having to chaperon so distinguished a person as Monte Cristo. I can only say that you may command me and mine to any extent you please. in consequence of a treaty of marriage (my dear Franz. I beg of you) with a family of high standing.” “Connected by marriage. “Well. de Morcerf” (these words were accompanied by a most peculiar smile). and with infinite pleasure. and I have only to ask you. you mean.” exclaimed Albert. “tell me truly whether you are in earnest. laughingly. and while the Count was speaking the young man watched him closely. that I do. I stayed away till some favorable chance should present itself of carrying my wish into execution. 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. my dear count. like a house built on the sand.” “Then it is settled. never mind how it is. 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. count. 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. smooths all difficulties. but which. “and so much the more readily as a letter received this morning from my father summons me to Paris.” said the count. is liable to be blown over by the first puff of wind?” 521 . “it comes to the same thing in the end.” said Franz. Perhaps by the time you return to Paris. however.” answered Albert. it was veiled in a sphinx-like smile. as in the present case.” Franz did not doubt that these plans were the same concerning which the count had dropped a few words in the grotto of Monte stocks. hoping to read something of his purpose in his face. upon my arrival in France. Your offer. do not smile. “whether you undertake.” answered Albert. my dear M. I shall be quite a sober. “and I give you my solemn assurance that I only waited an opportunity like the present to realize plans that I have long meditated. “But tell me now. and connected with the very cream of Parisian society. but his countenance was inscrutable especially when.

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

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

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

and the magnificence of his entertainment in the grotto of the “Thousand and One Nights. – an engagement which. and how. between the count and Vampa. the hashish. “what do you find to object to in all you have related? The count is fond of travelling. he most faithfully fulfilled.” “Then listen to me. there remained no proof or trace of all these events. with circumstantial exactitude. being rich. when Franz had concluded. At last he arrived at the adventure of the preceding night. the dream. 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. while you have manfully resisted its effects for as many years.” 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. “Well. Monte Cristo has furnished for himself a temporary abode where you first found him. Albert listened with the most profound attention. and the two Corsican bandits with them. avoiding the wretched cookery – which has been trying its best to poison me during the last four months. at his awakening. all the particulars of the supper. and. and you will find the harbors crowded with the yachts belonging to such of the English as can afford the expense. as our readers are aware. Now. possesses a vessel of his own. Then he detailed the conversation overheard by him at the Colosseum. and finally of his application to the count and the picturesque and satisfactory result that followed. in which the count had promised to obtain the release of the bandit Peppino. the statues. He dwelt with considerable force and energy on the almost magical hospitality he had received from the count.” He recounted. by way of having a resting-place during his excursions.“Upon your honor?” “Upon my honor. to prevent the possibility of the Tuscan government taking a fancy to his enchanted palace. Go but to Portsmouth or Southampton. save the small yacht.” said he. seen in the distant horizon driving under full sail toward Porto-Vecchio. and thereby depriving him of the advantages naturally 525 . – and obtaining a bed on which it is possible to slumber. and have the same liking for this amusement.

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

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

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

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

with far more perseverance than music and drawing. Above this floor was a large atelier. with which the door communicated. the only rooms into which. and it was here that he received Grisier. and. pencils – for music had been succeeded by painting. and which formed the antechamber. The boudoir up-stairs communicated with the bed-chamber by an invisible door on the staircase. There were collected and piled up all Albert’s successive caprices. it was evident that every precaution had been taken.” opening at the “Sesame” of Ali Baba. which had been increased in size by pulling down the partitions – a pandemonium. Albert de Morcerf cultivated. or Richelieu – for two of these arm-chairs. The rest of the furniture of this privileged apartment consisted of old cabinets. or woven by the fingers of the women of Calcutta or of Chandernagor. The salon down-stairs was only an Algerian divan. Lucca della Robbia faience. following the example of the fashionable young men of the time. 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. some royal residence. adorned with a carved shield. Louis XIII. i. flutes – a whole orchestra. or Sully.vigilance and jurisdiction it was free. on the right. and on the left the salon. like that famous portal in the “Arabian Nights. the prying eyes of the curious could penetrate. boxing. easels. was. as they were on the ground-floor. bass-viols. palettes. these three rooms were a salon. on which were engraved the fleur-de-lis of France on an azure field evidently came from the Louvre. fencing. brushes. for Albert had had not a taste but a fancy for music. On the floor above were similar rooms. at least. Cook. foils. of old arm-chairs. Albert’s breakfast-room. in which perhaps had sat Henry IV. boxing-gloves. and Charles Leboucher. looking into the garden. dyed beneath Persia’s sun. At the end of a long corridor. filled with Chinese porcelain and Japanese vases. and singlestick. What these 530 . broadswords. with the addition of a third. looking into the court. and Palissy platters. in which the artist and the dandy strove for preeminence.. the three arts that complete a dandy’s education. formed out of the ante-chamber. Over these dark and sombre chairs were thrown splendid stuffs. hunting-horns. or. Shrubs and creeping plants covered the windows. for the use of smokers. and hid from the garden and court these two apartments. a boudoir.e. and a bedroom. and single-sticks – for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 41: The Presentation. representing Notre Dame de Paris with that vigor that makes the artist the rival of the poet. on the contrary. which was. with their long reeds and tall trees. who tore each other with their teeth while their riders contended fiercely with their maces. or beneath the dome of a mosque – in a word. their damasked arms. can amuse yourself by calculating in how many square feet a young man who is not the worst lodged in Paris can live. with their long white burnouses. The salon was fille