The Count of Monte Cristo

Dumas, Alexandre

Published: 1845 Categories(s): Fiction, Action & Adventure Source: Feedbooks


About Dumas: Alexandre Dumas, père, born Dumas Davy de la Pailleterie (July 24, 1802 – December 5, 1870) was a French writer, best known for his numerous historical novels of high adventure which have made him one of the most widely read French authors in the world. Many of his novels, including The Count of Monte Cristo, The Three Musketeers, and The Man in the Iron Mask were serialized, and he also wrote plays and magazine articles and was a prolific correspondent. Source: Wikipedia Also available on Feedbooks for Dumas: • The Three Musketeers (1844) • Twenty Years After (1845) • Ten Years Later (1848) • The Vicomte of Bragelonne (1847) • The Black Tulip (1850) • The Borgias (1840) • Louise de la Valliere (1849) • Ali Pacha (1840) • Murat (1840) • Martin Guerre (1840) Note: This book is brought to you by Feedbooks. Strictly for personal use, do not use this file for commercial purposes.


Note: Footnotes are represented by * and are placed immediately below the paragraph to which they refer — ED.




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 a-cockbill, the jib-boom guys already eased off, and standing by the side of the pilot, who was steering the Pharaon towards the narrow entrance of the inner port, was a young man, who, with activity and vigilant eye, watched every motion of the ship, and repeated each direction of the pilot. The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much affected one of the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff, desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Reserve basin. When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship's bulwarks.


He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven's wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger. "Ah, is it you, Dantes?" cried the man in the skiff. "What's the matter? and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?" "A great misfortune, M. Morrel," replied the young man, — "a great misfortune, for me especially! Off Civita Vecchia we lost our brave Captain Leclere." "And the cargo?" inquired the owner, eagerly. "Is all safe, M. Morrel; and I think you will be satisfied on that head. But poor Captain Leclere — " "What happened to him?" asked the owner, with an air of considerable resignation. "What happened to the worthy captain?" "He died." "Fell into the sea?" "No, sir, he died of brain-fever in dreadful agony." Then turning to the crew, he said, "Bear a hand there, to take in sail!" All hands obeyed, and at once the eight or ten seamen who composed the crew, sprang to their respective stations at the spanker brails and outhaul, topsail sheets and halyards, the jib downhaul, and the topsail clewlines and buntlines. The young sailor gave a look to see that his orders were promptly and accurately obeyed, and then turned again to the owner. "And how did this misfortune occur?" inquired the latter, resuming the interrupted conversation. "Alas, sir, in the most unexpected manner. After a long talk with the harbor-master, Captain Leclere left Naples greatly disturbed in mind. In twenty-four hours he was attacked by a fever, and died three days afterwards. We performed the usual burial service, and he is at his rest, sewn up in his hammock with a thirty-six pound shot at his head and his heels, off El Giglio island. We bring to his widow his sword and cross of honor. It was worth while, truly," added the young man with a melancholy smile, "to make war against the English for ten years, and to die in his bed at last, like everybody else." "Why, you see, Edmond," replied the owner, who appeared more comforted at every moment, "we are all mortal, and the old must make way for the young. If not, why, there would be no promotion; and since you assure me that the cargo — "


"Is all safe and sound, M. Morrel, take my word for it; and I advise you not to take 25,000 francs for the profits of the voyage." Then, as they were just passing the Round Tower, the young man shouted: "Stand by there to lower the topsails and jib; brail up the spanker!" The order was executed as promptly as it would have been on board a man-of-war. "Let go — and clue up!" At this last command all the sails were lowered, and the vessel moved almost imperceptibly onwards. "Now, if you will come on board, M. Morrel," said Dantes, observing the owner's impatience, "here is your supercargo, M. Danglars, coming out of his cabin, who will furnish you with every particular. As for me, I must look after the anchoring, and dress the ship in mourning." The owner did not wait for a second invitation. He seized a rope which Dantes flung to him, and with an activity that would have done credit to a sailor, climbed up the side of the ship, while the young man, going to his task, left the conversation to Danglars, who now came towards the owner. He was a man of twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, of unprepossessing countenance, obsequious to his superiors, insolent to his subordinates; and this, in addition to his position as responsible agent on board, which is always obnoxious to the sailors, made him as much disliked by the crew as Edmond Dantes was beloved by them. "Well, M. Morrel," said Danglars, "you have heard of the misfortune that has befallen us?" "Yes — yes: poor Captain Leclere! He was a brave and an honest man." "And a first-rate seaman, one who had seen long and honorable service, as became a man charged with the interests of a house so important as that of Morrel & Son," replied Danglars. "But," replied the owner, glancing after Dantes, who was watching the anchoring of his vessel, "it seems to me that a sailor needs not be so old as you say, Danglars, to understand his business, for our friend Edmond seems to understand it thoroughly, and not to require instruction from any one." "Yes," said Danglars, darting at Edmond a look gleaming with hate. "Yes, he is young, and youth is invariably self-confident. Scarcely was the captain's breath out of his body when he assumed the command without consulting any one, and he caused us to lose a day and a half at the Island of Elba, instead of making for Marseilles direct."


"As to taking command of the vessel," replied Morrel, "that was his duty as captain's mate; as to losing a day and a half off the Island of Elba, he was wrong, unless the vessel needed repairs." "The vessel was in as good condition as I am, and as, I hope you are, M. Morrel, and this day and a half was lost from pure whim, for the pleasure of going ashore, and nothing else." "Dantes," said the shipowner, turning towards the young man, "come this way!" "In a moment, sir," answered Dantes, "and I'm with you." Then calling to the crew, he said — "Let go!" The anchor was instantly dropped, and the chain ran rattling through the port-hole. Dantes continued at his post in spite of the presence of the pilot, until this manoeuvre was completed, and then he added, "Halfmast the colors, and square the yards!" "You see," said Danglars, "he fancies himself captain already, upon my word." "And so, in fact, he is," said the owner. "Except your signature and your partner's, M. Morrel." "And why should he not have this?" asked the owner; "he is young, it is true, but he seems to me a thorough seaman, and of full experience." A cloud passed over Danglars' brow. "Your pardon, M. Morrel," said Dantes, approaching, "the vessel now rides at anchor, and I am at your service. You hailed me, I think?" Danglars retreated a step or two. "I wished to inquire why you stopped at the Island of Elba?" "I do not know, sir; it was to fulfil the last instructions of Captain Leclere, who, when dying, gave me a packet for Marshal Bertrand." "Then did you see him, Edmond?" "Who?" "The marshal." "Yes." Morrel looked around him, and then, drawing Dantes on one side, he said suddenly — "And how is the emperor?" "Very well, as far as I could judge from the sight of him." "You saw the emperor, then?" "He entered the marshal's apartment while I was there." "And you spoke to him?" "Why, it was he who spoke to me, sir," said Dantes, with a smile. "And what did he say to you?"


"Asked me questions about the vessel, the time she left Marseilles, the course she had taken, and what was her cargo. I believe, if she had not been laden, and I had been her master, he would have bought her. But I told him I was only mate, and that she belonged to the firm of Morrel & Son. `Ah, yes,' he said, `I know them. The Morrels have been shipowners from father to son; and there was a Morrel who served in the same regiment with me when I was in garrison at Valence.'" "Pardieu, and that is true!" cried the owner, greatly delighted. "And that was Policar Morrel, my uncle, who was afterwards a captain. Dantes, you must tell my uncle that the emperor remembered him, and you will see it will bring tears into the old soldier's eyes. Come, come," continued he, patting Edmond's shoulder kindly, "you did very right, Dantes, to follow Captain Leclere's instructions, and touch at Elba, although if it were known that you had conveyed a packet to the marshal, and had conversed with the emperor, it might bring you into trouble." "How could that bring me into trouble, sir?" asked Dantes; "for I did not even know of what I was the bearer; and the emperor merely made such inquiries as he would of the first comer. But, pardon me, here are the health officers and the customs inspectors coming alongside." And the young man went to the gangway. As he departed, Danglars approached, and said, — "Well, it appears that he has given you satisfactory reasons for his landing at Porto-Ferrajo?" "Yes, most satisfactory, my dear Danglars." "Well, so much the better," said the supercargo; "for it is not pleasant to think that a comrade has not done his duty." "Dantes has done his," replied the owner, "and that is not saying much. It was Captain Leclere who gave orders for this delay." "Talking of Captain Leclere, has not Dantes given you a letter from him?" "To me? — no — was there one?" "I believe that, besides the packet, Captain Leclere confided a letter to his care." "Of what packet are you speaking, Danglars?" "Why, that which Dantes left at Porto-Ferrajo." "How do you know he had a packet to leave at Porto-Ferrajo?" Danglars turned very red. "I was passing close to the door of the captain's cabin, which was half open, and I saw him give the packet and letter to Dantes."


"He did not speak to me of it," replied the shipowner; "but if there be any letter he will give it to me." Danglars reflected for a moment. "Then, M. Morrel, I beg of you," said he, "not to say a word to Dantes on the subject. I may have been mistaken." At this moment the young man returned; Danglars withdrew. "Well, my dear Dantes, are you now free?" inquired the owner. "Yes, sir." "You have not been long detained." "No. I gave the custom-house officers a copy of our bill of lading; and as to the other papers, they sent a man off with the pilot, to whom I gave them." "Then you have nothing more to do here?" "No — everything is all right now." "Then you can come and dine with me?" "I really must ask you to excuse me, M. Morrel. My first visit is due to my father, though I am not the less grateful for the honor you have done me." "Right, Dantes, quite right. I always knew you were a good son." "And," inquired Dantes, with some hesitation, "do you know how my father is?" "Well, I believe, my dear Edmond, though I have not seen him lately." "Yes, he likes to keep himself shut up in his little room." "That proves, at least, that he has wanted for nothing during your absence." Dantes smiled. "My father is proud, sir, and if he had not a meal left, I doubt if he would have asked anything from anyone, except from Heaven." "Well, then, after this first visit has been made we shall count on you." "I must again excuse myself, M. Morrel, for after this first visit has been paid I have another which I am most anxious to pay." "True, Dantes, I forgot that there was at the Catalans some one who expects you no less impatiently than your father — the lovely Mercedes." Dantes blushed. "Ah, ha," said the shipowner, "I am not in the least surprised, for she has been to me three times, inquiring if there were any news of the Pharaon. Peste, Edmond, you have a very handsome mistress!" "She is not my mistress," replied the young sailor, gravely; "she is my betrothed." "Sometimes one and the same thing," said Morrel, with a smile.


"Not with us, sir," replied Dantes. "Well, well, my dear Edmond," continued the owner, "don't let me detain you. You have managed my affairs so well that I ought to allow you all the time you require for your own. Do you want any money?" "No, sir; I have all my pay to take — nearly three months' wages." "You are a careful fellow, Edmond." "Say I have a poor father, sir." "Yes, yes, I know how good a son you are, so now hasten away to see your father. I have a son too, and I should be very wroth with those who detained him from me after a three months' voyage." "Then I have your leave, sir?" "Yes, if you have nothing more to say to me." "Nothing." "Captain Leclere did not, before he died, give you a letter for me?" "He was unable to write, sir. But that reminds me that I must ask your leave of absence for some days." "To get married?" "Yes, first, and then to go to Paris." "Very good; have what time you require, Dantes. It will take quite six weeks to unload the cargo, and we cannot get you ready for sea until three months after that; only be back again in three months, for the Pharaon," added the owner, patting the young sailor on the back, "cannot sail without her captain." "Without her captain!" cried Dantes, his eyes sparkling with animation; "pray mind what you say, for you are touching on the most secret wishes of my heart. Is it really your intention to make me captain of the Pharaon?" "If I were sole owner we'd shake hands on it now, my dear Dantes, and call it settled; but I have a partner, and you know the Italian proverb — Chi ha compagno ha padrone — `He who has a partner has a master.' But the thing is at least half done, as you have one out of two votes. Rely on me to procure you the other; I will do my best." "Ah, M. Morrel," exclaimed the young seaman, with tears in his eyes, and grasping the owner's hand, "M. Morrel, I thank you in the name of my father and of Mercedes." "That's all right, Edmond. There's a providence that watches over the deserving. Go to your father: go and see Mercedes, and afterwards come to me." "Shall I row you ashore?"


"No, thank you; I shall remain and look over the accounts with Danglars. Have you been satisfied with him this voyage?" "That is according to the sense you attach to the question, sir. Do you mean is he a good comrade? No, for I think he never liked me since the day when I was silly enough, after a little quarrel we had, to propose to him to stop for ten minutes at the island of Monte Cristo to settle the dispute — a proposition which I was wrong to suggest, and he quite right to refuse. If you mean as responsible agent when you ask me the question, I believe there is nothing to say against him, and that you will be content with the way in which he has performed his duty." "But tell me, Dantes, if you had command of the Pharaon should you be glad to see Danglars remain?" "Captain or mate, M. Morrel, I shall always have the greatest respect for those who possess the owners' confidence." "That's right, that's right, Dantes! I see you are a thoroughly good fellow, and will detain you no longer. Go, for I see how impatient you are." "Then I have leave?" "Go, I tell you." "May I have the use of your skiff?" "Certainly." "Then, for the present, M. Morrel, farewell, and a thousand thanks!" "I hope soon to see you again, my dear Edmond. Good luck to you." The young sailor jumped into the skiff, and sat down in the stern sheets, with the order that he be put ashore at La Canebiere. The two oarsmen bent to their work, and the little boat glided away as rapidly as possible in the midst of the thousand vessels which choke up the narrow way which leads between the two rows of ships from the mouth of the harbor to the Quai d'Orleans. The shipowner, smiling, followed him with his eyes until he saw him spring out on the quay and disappear in the midst of the throng, which from five o'clock in the morning until nine o'clock at night, swarms in the famous street of La Canebiere, — a street of which the modern Phocaeans are so proud that they say with all the gravity in the world, and with that accent which gives so much character to what is said, "If Paris had La Canebiere, Paris would be a second Marseilles." On turning round the owner saw Danglars behind him, apparently awaiting orders, but in reality also watching the young sailor, — but there was a great difference in the expression of the two men who thus followed the movements of Edmond Dantes.




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


good fortune; it has happened, and I really cannot pretend to lament it. The good Captain Leclere is dead, father, and it is probable that, with the aid of M. Morrel, I shall have his place. Do you understand, father? Only imagine me a captain at twenty, with a hundred louis pay, and a share in the profits! Is this not more than a poor sailor like me could have hoped for?" "Yes, my dear boy," replied the old man, "it is very fortunate." "Well, then, with the first money I touch, I mean you to have a small house, with a garden in which to plant clematis, nasturtiums, and honeysuckle. But what ails you, father? Are you not well?" "'Tis nothing, nothing; it will soon pass away" — and as he said so the old man's strength failed him, and he fell backwards. "Come, come," said the young man, "a glass of wine, father, will revive you. Where do you keep your wine?" "No, no; thanks. You need not look for it; I do not want it," said the old man. "Yes, yes, father, tell me where it is," and he opened two or three cupboards. "It is no use," said the old man, "there is no wine." "What, no wine?" said Dantes, turning pale, and looking alternately at the hollow cheeks of the old man and the empty cupboards. "What, no wine? Have you wanted money, father?" "I want nothing now that I have you," said the old man. "Yet," stammered Dantes, wiping the perspiration from his brow, — "yet I gave you two hundred francs when I left, three months ago." "Yes, yes, Edmond, that is true, but you forgot at that time a little debt to our neighbor, Caderousse. He reminded me of it, telling me if I did not pay for you, he would be paid by M. Morrel; and so, you see, lest he might do you an injury" — "Well?" "Why, I paid him." "But," cried Dantes, "it was a hundred and forty francs I owed Caderousse." "Yes," stammered the old man. "And you paid him out of the two hundred francs I left you?" The old man nodded. "So that you have lived for three months on sixty francs," muttered Edmond. "You know how little I require," said the old man.


"Heaven pardon me," cried Edmond, falling on his knees before his father. "What are you doing?" "You have wounded me to the heart." "Never mind it, for I see you once more," said the old man; "and now it's all over — everything is all right again." "Yes, here I am," said the young man, "with a promising future and a little money. Here, father, here!" he said, "take this — take it, and send for something immediately." And he emptied his pockets on the table, the contents consisting of a dozen gold pieces, five or six five-franc pieces, and some smaller coin. The countenance of old Dantes brightened. "Whom does this belong to?" he inquired. "To me, to you, to us! Take it; buy some provisions; be happy, and 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." "No, my boy, no," said Caderousse. "I am not in any want, thank God, my living is suited to my means. Keep your money — keep it, I say; — one never has too much; — but, at the same time, my boy, I am as much obliged by your offer as if I took advantage of it." "It was offered with good will," said Dantes. "No doubt, my boy; no doubt. Well, you stand well with M. Morrel I hear, — you insinuating dog, you!" "M. Morrel has always been exceedingly kind to me," replied Dantes. "Then you were wrong to refuse to dine with him." "What, did you refuse to dine with him?" said old Dantes; "and did he invite you to dine?" "Yes, my dear father," replied Edmond, smiling at his father's astonishment at the excessive honor paid to his son. "And why did you refuse, my son?" inquired the old man. "That I might the sooner see you again, my dear father," replied the young man. "I was most anxious to see you."


"But it must have vexed M. Morrel, good, worthy man," said Caderousse. "And when you are looking forward to be captain, it was wrong to annoy the owner." "But I explained to him the cause of my refusal," replied Dantes, "and I hope he fully understood it." "Yes, but to be captain one must do a little flattery to one's patrons." "I hope to be captain without that," said Dantes. "So much the better — so much the better! Nothing will give greater pleasure to all your old friends; and I know one down there behind the Saint Nicolas citadel who will not be sorry to hear it." "Mercedes?" said the old man. "Yes, my dear father, and with your permission, now I have seen you, and know you are well and have all you require, I will ask your consent to go and pay a visit to the Catalans." "Go, my dear boy," said old Dantes: "and heaven bless you in your wife, as it has blessed me in my son!" "His wife!" said Caderousse; "why, how fast you go on, father Dantes; she is not his wife yet, as it seems to me." "So, but according to all probability she soon will be," replied Edmond. "Yes — yes," said Caderousse; "but you were right to return as soon as possible, my boy." "And why?" "Because Mercedes is a very fine girl, and fine girls never lack followers; she particularly has them by dozens." "Really?" answered Edmond, with a smile which had in it traces of slight uneasiness. "Ah, yes," continued Caderousse, "and capital offers, too; but you know, you will be captain, and who could refuse you then?" "Meaning to say," replied Dantes, with a smile which but ill-concealed his trouble, "that if I were not a captain" — "Eh — eh!" said Caderousse, shaking his head. "Come, come," said the sailor, "I have a better opinion than you of women in general, and of Mercedes in particular; and I am certain that, captain or not, she will remain ever faithful to me." "So much the better — so much the better," said Caderousse. "When one is going to be married, there is nothing like implicit confidence; but never mind that, my boy, — go and announce your arrival, and let her know all your hopes and prospects." "I will go directly," was Edmond's reply; and, embracing his father, and nodding to Caderousse, he left the apartment.


Caderousse lingered for a moment, then taking leave of old Dantes, he went downstairs to rejoin Danglars, who awaited him at the corner of the Rue Senac. "Well," said Danglars, "did you see him?" "I have just left him," answered Caderousse. "Did he allude to his hope of being captain?" "He spoke of it as a thing already decided." "Indeed!" said Danglars, "he is in too much hurry, it appears to me." "Why, it seems M. Morrel has promised him the thing." "So that he is quite elated about it?" "Why, yes, he is actually insolent over the matter — has already offered me his patronage, as if he were a grand personage, and proffered me a loan of money, as though he were a banker." "Which you refused?" "Most assuredly; although I might easily have accepted it, for it was I who put into his hands the first silver he ever earned; but now M. Dantes has no longer any occasion for assistance — he is about to become a captain." "Pooh!" said Danglars, "he is not one yet." "Ma foi, it will be as well if he is not," answered Caderousse; "for if he should be, there will be really no speaking to him." "If we choose," replied Danglars, "he will remain what he is; and perhaps become even less than he is." "What do you mean?" "Nothing — I was speaking to myself. And is he still in love with the Catalane?" "Over head and ears; but, unless I am much mistaken, there will be a storm in that quarter." "Explain yourself." "Why should I?" "It is more important than you think, perhaps. You do not like Dantes?" "I never like upstarts." "Then tell me all you know about the Catalane." "I know nothing for certain; only I have seen things which induce me to believe, as I told you, that the future captain will find some annoyance in the vicinity of the Vieilles Infirmeries." "What have you seen? — come, tell me!"


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




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


leaning his elbow on an old worm-eaten table, was a tall young man of twenty, or two-and-twenty, who was looking at her with an air in which vexation and uneasiness were mingled. He questioned her with his eyes, but the firm and steady gaze of the young girl controlled his look. "You see, Mercedes," said the young man, "here is Easter come round again; tell me, is this the moment for a wedding?" "I have answered you a hundred times, Fernand, and really you must be very stupid to ask me again." "Well, repeat it, — repeat it, I beg of you, that I may at last believe it! Tell me for the hundredth time that you refuse my love, which had your mother's sanction. Make me understand once for all that you are trifling with my happiness, that my life or death are nothing to you. Ah, to have dreamed for ten years of being your husband, Mercedes, and to lose that hope, which was the only stay of my existence!" "At least it was not I who ever encouraged you in that hope, Fernand," replied Mercedes; "you cannot reproach me with the slightest coquetry. I have always said to you, `I love you as a brother; but do not ask from me more than sisterly affection, for my heart is another's.' Is not this true, Fernand?" "Yes, that is very true, Mercedes," replied the young man, "Yes, you have been cruelly frank with me; but do you forget that it is among the Catalans a sacred law to intermarry?" "You mistake, Fernand; it is not a law, but merely a custom, and, I pray of you, do not cite this custom in your favor. You are included in the conscription, Fernand, and are only at liberty on sufferance, liable at any moment to be called upon to take up arms. Once a soldier, what would you do with me, a poor orphan, forlorn, without fortune, with nothing but a half-ruined hut and a few ragged nets, the miserable inheritance left by my father to my mother, and by my mother to me? She has been dead a year, and you know, Fernand, I have subsisted almost entirely on public charity. Sometimes you pretend I am useful to you, and that is an excuse to share with me the produce of your fishing, and I accept it, Fernand, because you are the son of my father's brother, because we were brought up together, and still more because it would give you so much pain if I refuse. But I feel very deeply that this fish which I go and sell, and with the produce of which I buy the flax I spin, — I feel very keenly, Fernand, that this is charity." "And if it were, Mercedes, poor and lone as you are, you suit me as well as the daughter of the first shipowner or the richest banker of


Marseilles! What do such as we desire but a good wife and careful housekeeper, and where can I look for these better than in you?" "Fernand," answered Mercedes, shaking her head, "a woman becomes a bad manager, and who shall say she will remain an honest woman, when she loves another man better than her husband? Rest content with my friendship, for I say once more that is all I can promise, and I will promise no more than I can bestow." "I understand," replied Fernand, "you can endure your own wretchedness patiently, but you are afraid to share mine. Well, Mercedes, beloved by you, I would tempt fortune; you would bring me good luck, and I should become rich. I could extend my occupation as a fisherman, might get a place as clerk in a warehouse, and become in time a dealer myself." "You could do no such thing, Fernand; you are a soldier, and if you remain at the Catalans it is because there is no war; so remain a fisherman, and contented with my friendship, as I cannot give you more." "Well, I will do better, Mercedes. I will be a sailor; instead of the costume of our fathers, which you despise, I will wear a varnished hat, a striped shirt, and a blue jacket, with an anchor on the buttons. Would not that dress please you?" "What do you mean?" asked Mercedes, with an angry glance, — "what do you mean? I do not understand you?" "I mean, Mercedes, that you are thus harsh and cruel with me, because you are expecting some one who is thus attired; but perhaps he whom you await is inconstant, or if he is not, the sea is so to him." "Fernand," cried Mercedes, "I believed you were good-hearted, and I was mistaken! Fernand, you are wicked to call to your aid jealousy and the anger of God! Yes, I will not deny it, I do await, and I do love him of whom you speak; and, if he does not return, instead of accusing him of the inconstancy which you insinuate, I will tell you that he died loving me and me only." The young girl made a gesture of rage. "I understand you, Fernand; you would be revenged on him because I do not love you; you would cross your Catalan knife with his dirk. What end would that answer? To lose you my friendship if he were conquered, and see that friendship changed into hate if you were victor. Believe me, to seek a quarrel with a man is a bad method of pleasing the woman who loves that man. No, Fernand, you will not thus give way to evil thoughts. Unable to have me for your wife, you will content yourself with having me for your friend and sister; and besides," she added, her eyes troubled and moistened with tears, "wait, wait, Fernand; you said just now that the sea


was treacherous, and he has been gone four months, and during these four months there have been some terrible storms." Fernand made no reply, nor did he attempt to check the tears which flowed down the cheeks of Mercedes, although for each of these tears he would have shed his heart's blood; but these tears flowed for another. He arose, paced a while up and down the hut, and then, suddenly stopping before Mercedes, with his eyes glowing and his hands clinched, — "Say, Mercedes," he said, "once for all, is this your final determination?" "I love Edmond Dantes," the young girl calmly replied, "and none but Edmond shall ever be my husband." "And you will always love him?" "As long as I live." Fernand let fall his head like a defeated man, heaved a sigh that was like a groan, and then suddenly looking her full in the face, with clinched teeth and expanded nostrils, said, — "But if he is dead" — "If he is dead, I shall die too." "If he has forgotten you" — "Mercedes!" called a joyous voice from without, — "Mercedes!" "Ah," exclaimed the young girl, blushing with delight, and fairly leaping in excess of love, "you see he has not forgotten me, for here he is!" And rushing towards the door, she opened it, saying, "Here, Edmond, here I am!" Fernand, pale and trembling, drew back, like a traveller at the sight of a serpent, and fell into a chair beside him. Edmond and Mercedes were clasped in each other's arms. The burning Marseilles sun, which shot into the room through the open door, covered them with a flood of light. At first they saw nothing around them. Their intense happiness isolated them from all the rest of the world, and they only spoke in broken words, which are the tokens of a joy so extreme that they seem rather the expression of sorrow. Suddenly Edmond saw the gloomy, pale, and threatening countenance of Fernand, as it was defined in the shadow. By a movement for which he could scarcely account to himself, the young Catalan placed his hand on the knife at his belt. "Ah, your pardon," said Dantes, frowning in his turn; "I did not perceive that there were three of us." Then, turning to Mercedes, he inquired, "Who is this gentleman?" "One who will be your best friend, Dantes, for he is my friend, my cousin, my brother; it is Fernand — the man whom, after you, Edmond, I love the best in the world. Do you not remember him?"


"Yes!" said Dantes, and without relinquishing Mercedes hand clasped in one of his own, he extended the other to the Catalan with a cordial air. But Fernand, instead of responding to this amiable gesture, remained mute and trembling. Edmond then cast his eyes scrutinizingly at the agitated and embarrassed Mercedes, and then again on the gloomy and menacing Fernand. This look told him all, and his anger waxed hot. "I did not know, when I came with such haste to you, that I was to meet an enemy here." "An enemy!" cried Mercedes, with an angry look at her cousin. "An enemy in my house, do you say, Edmond! If I believed that, I would place my arm under yours and go with you to Marseilles, leaving the house to return to it no more." Fernand's eye darted lightning. "And should any misfortune occur to you, dear Edmond," she continued with the same calmness which proved to Fernand that the young girl had read the very innermost depths of his sinister thought, "if misfortune should occur to you, I would ascend the highest point of the Cape de Morgion and cast myself headlong from it." Fernand became deadly pale. "But you are deceived, Edmond," she continued. "You have no enemy here — there is no one but Fernand, my brother, who will grasp your hand as a devoted friend." And at these words the young girl fixed her imperious look on the Catalan, who, as if fascinated by it, came slowly towards Edmond, 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!" "Hallo, Catalan! Hallo, Fernand! where are you running to?" exclaimed a voice. The young man stopped suddenly, looked around him, and perceived Caderousse sitting at table with Danglars, under an arbor. "Well", said Caderousse, "why don't you come? Are you really in such a hurry that you have no time to pass the time of day with your friends?" "Particularly when they have still a full bottle before them," added Danglars. Fernand looked at them both with a stupefied air, but did not say a word.


didn't you?" And he fell. can't you make up your mind?" Fernand wiped away the perspiration steaming from his brow. and he is in love with a very fine girl. Fernand. and answer us. and turning towards the young man. to prevent his swallowing three or four pints of water unnecessarily!" Fernand gave a groan." said Caderousse. and whose coolness somewhat of refreshment to his exhausted body. that the fine girl is in love with the mate of the Pharaon. "this is how it is. winking at his friend. and slowly entered the arbor." said Danglars. and what then?" said Fernand. one of the best fishermen in Marseilles. "Poor Fernand has been dismissed. "you look uncommonly like a rejected lover. named Mercedes. "a lad of his make was not born to be unhappy in love. Danglars. you see. Fernand. clinching his hands without raising his head. when a man has friends. "Ah." said Caderousse." said Caderousse. and looking at Caderousse like a man who looks for some one on whom to vent his 24 . and is Dantes triumphant in spite of all we have believed?" "Why. "You called me. beginning the conversation. "I called you because you were running like a madman." was Caderousse's reply. pushing Caderousse with his knee. whose shade seemed to restore somewhat of calmness to his senses." said he. lifting up his head. which resembled a sob. and I was afraid you would throw yourself into the sea." "My health is well enough. laughing. rather than sat down. Caderousse. "Bah!" said Danglars. I must say. whom you see here. said."He seems besotted." continued Caderousse. his elbows leaning on the table." and he burst into a hoarse laugh. but it appears. I do not understand. "Well. and dropped his head into his hands." he replied. You are laughing at him. "Well. you understand!" "No. "Are we mistaken." said Danglars. Catalan. "Good-day. "Why. come. is a good and brave Catalan. It's not polite not to reply to friends who ask news of your health. "only hark how he sighs! Come." said Fernand. they are not only to offer him a glass of wine. moreover. but. we must inquire into that. "hold up your head. with that brutality of the common people in which curiosity destroys all diplomacy. "Well. on one of the seats which surrounded the table. and as the Pharaon arrived to-day — why." said Caderousse." "No. unfortunately. Fernand.

Fernand. or perchance faithless! These things always come on us more severely when they come suddenly. and swallowed the contents at a gulp." During this time Danglars fixed his piercing glance on the young man." "Ah. "Never mind — in the meantime he marries Mercedes — the lovely Mercedes — at least he returns to do that. "as surely as Dantes will be captain of the Pharaon — eh. I believe I see double. "What do I see down there by the wall. But I thought you were a Catalan. "Poor fellow!" remarked Danglars. Fernand dashed his on the ground. was terrible in his vengeance. eh!" stammered Caderousse. especially. on whose heart Caderousse's words fell like molten lead. and they told me the Catalans were not men to allow themselves to be supplanted by a rival. and filling his own for the eighth or ninth time. your eyes are better than mine. Danglars?" "No." said Caderousse. "let us drink to Captain Edmond Dantes. it is not yet fixed!" murmured Fernand. perhaps. in the direction of the Catalans? Look. but he read nothing but envy in a countenance already rendered brutal and stupid by drunkenness. "Eh." Fernand smiled piteously. while Danglars had merely sipped his. Danglars?" Danglars shuddered at this unexpected attack." said he. 25 . "Why. to try and detect whether the blow was premeditated. — "under any circumstances Fernand is not the only person put out by the fortunate arrival of Dantes. but it will be. affecting to pity the young man from the bottom of his heart. "No. under any circumstances. and hand in hand. you are right — and I should say that would bring him ill-luck. It was even told me that Fernand. ma foi. if you take it in that sense.anger. and turned to Caderousse. is he. eh. never mind. you see. filling the glasses." said Caderousse. "A lover is never terrible. husband of the beautiful Catalane!" Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with unsteady hand." he said. "Well. but I should say it was two lovers walking side by side. "it is another thing. he did not expect to see Dantes return so suddenly — he thought he was dead. "Oh. is she? Is she not free to love whomsoever she will?" "Oh. and on whom the fumes of the wine began to take effect." said Caderousse." answered Caderousse. pouring out a glass of wine for Fernand. You know wine is a deceiver." "Well. whose countenance he scrutinized. "Mercedes is not accountable to any person. who drank as he spoke. "And when is the wedding to be?" he asked.

" was the reply. and laugh at us all. Yet this Catalan has eyes that glisten like those of the vengeful Spaniards. now!" said Caderousse. At this Fernand recollected her threat of dying if Edmond died. my dear fellow!" replied Dantes. was about to rush out. pricked by Danglars. half-rising. and they are actually embracing!" Danglars did not lose one pang that Fernand endured. Danglars looked at the two men. too. they do not know that we can see them. but I am happy. will you?" said Danglars. See. Unquestionably. "hallo. "Hallo!" continued Caderousse. for he had risen from his seat. and follow his example." "Ah. and Calabrians. see there. or are you too proud to speak to them?" "No. with the tenacity of drunkards. "How do you do. Sicilians. and the other has fists big enough to crush an ox at one blow. look at Fernand. and here is a fool who sees the woman he loves stolen from under his nose and takes on like a big baby. one after the other. and seemed to be collecting himself to dash headlong upon his rival. lovely damsel! Come this way. "Try to stand upright. "and I am very much afraid of being here between a drunkard and a coward. for Fernand here is so obstinate he will not tell us. very well. pretending to restrain Caderousse." "Hold your tongue. and he will marry the splendid girl — he will be captain. Edmond! do you not see your friends. and dropped again heavily on his seat. and let the lovers make love without interruption. and with his fist on the table." he added. I think. "and I did not recognize them! Hallo.Heaven forgive me." he muttered. lifted up her lovely head. probably excited beyond bearing. Fernand?" he said. leaned out of the arbor. Dantes! hello. "It is Edmond and Mercedes!" "Ah. as the bull is by the bandilleros. the other overwhelmed with love. smiling and graceful. "I shall get nothing from these fools. "Do you know them. unless" — a sinister smile passed over Danglars' lips — "unless I take a hand in the affair. "Yes. and let us know when the wedding is to be. and happiness blinds. Madame Dantes?" 26 . the one brutalized by liquor. that's an explanation!" said Caderousse. more than pride. "I am not proud. Here's an envious fellow making himself boozy on wine when he ought to be nursing his wrath. in a low voice. who. and looked at them with her clear and bright eyes. Edmond's star is in the ascendant. when Mercedes. he is well-behaved!" Fernand.

M. My friends will be there." said Dantes. But it is not selfishness alone that makes me thus in haste. Dantes. Besides. and to-morrow. and he could not utter a word." "We must excuse our worthy neighbor.Mercedes courtesied gravely. Danglars. to call a young girl by the name of her betrothed before he becomes her husband. Ah. "I will say to you as Mercedes said just now to Caderousse." "Your pardon." "Yes. the wedding festival here at La Reserve. bowing to the young couple. I must go to Paris. I understand." said Danglars. "he is so easily mistaken. he added. `Do not give me a title which does not belong to me'. this letter gives me an idea — a capital idea! Ah. to-day all preliminaries will be arranged at my father's. So call me Mercedes. Mercedes and I." said Danglars. "As soon as possible. "I merely said you seemed in a hurry. Danglars. smiling. for when we have suffered a long time. and in my country it bodes ill fortune. and then in a low tone. the wedding is to take place immediately." "Have you business there?" "Not of my own. really? — to Paris! and will it be the first time you have ever been there. M." "So. "To Paris. and we have lots of time. Danglars." "We are always in a hurry to be happy." replied Danglars. I shall only take the time to go and return. and said — "That is not my name. but his voice died on his lips. we have great difficulty in believing in good fortune. yes." Fernand opened his mouth to reply. "and we." "And Fernand. then. should be very sorry if he were absent at such a time. Danglars — it is sacred. I hope. you know to what I allude. "Fernand." said Caderousse with a chuckle. "To-day the preliminaries. or next day at latest. is invited!" "My wife's brother is my brother. they say. captain!" "Danglars. too." said Edmond. you are invited. Dantes. M. to-morrow or next day the ceremony! You are in a hurry. if you please. 27 . the Pharaon cannot be under weigh again in less than three months. M. that is to say. and you. Dantes?" "Yes." "Ah." said Edmond. Caderousse. that may bring me bad luck. no doubt to deliver the letter which the grand marshal gave him. Caderousse. the last commission of poor Captain Leclere.

"A pleasant journey. as calm and joyous as if they were the very elect of heaven. and the two lovers continued on their friend. 28 . you are not yet registered number one on board the good ship Pharaon." said Edmond with a friendly nod." he cried. who was walking away." then turning towards Edmond. "Thank you.

"How do I know? Is it my affair? I am not in love with Mademoiselle Mercedes. Danglars followed Edmond and Mercedes with his eyes until the two lovers disappeared behind one of the angles of Fort Saint Nicolas." "And you sit there. but for you — in the words of the gospel.Chapter 4 Conspiracy. what she threatens she will do. pale and trembling. "Do you. then. with the accents of unshaken resolution." "I have found already. into his chair. and you shall find. what matter. provided Dantes is not captain?" "Before Mercedes should die. "That's love." "What?" "I would stab the man. "whether she kill herself or not. while Caderousse stammered out the words of a drinking-song. instead of seeking to remedy your condition." "What would you have me do?" said Fernand. "I would die myself!" "That's what I call love!" said Caderousse with a voice more tipsy than ever." said Fernand. who had fallen. he perceived Fernand." replied Fernand. seek. or I don't know what love is." "You do not know Mercedes. I did not think that was the way of your people. "here is a marriage which does not appear to make everybody happy." "Idiot!" muttered Danglars. then turning round. but the woman told me that if any misfortune happened to her betrothed. tearing your hair." 29 ." said Danglars to Fernand." "Pooh! Women say those things. "Well." "It drives me to despair. love Mercedes?" "I adore her!" "For long?" "As long as I have known her — always. my dear sir. she would kill herself. but never do them.

"and when one gets out and one's name is Edmond Dantes. "and here is Danglars." "Death alone can separate them. Danglars. C'est bien prouve par le deluge. and you will be completely so. I like Dantes. but I added." "Drunk. Dantes is a good fellow. — `Tous les mechants sont beuveurs d'eau. who will prove to you that you are wrong. and the marriage may easily be thwarted. "you are three parts drunk. "Let him run on. to help you it would be sufficient that Dantes did not marry her you love. and yet Dantes need not die." Fernand rose impatiently. Absence severs as well as death. who is a wide-awake. Dantes. finish the bottle." "I — drunk!" said Caderousse. This drunken Caderousse has made me lose the thread of my sentence.") "You said. my friend. "but how?" "My dear fellow. Drink then. but" — "Yes. 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." said Caderousse. it would. "drunk as he is. they are no bigger than cologne flasks. sir. I have answered for you. for it is because they have bad thoughts which they are afraid the liquor will extract from their hearts. "well that's a good one! I could drink four more such bottles." said Danglars." said Caderousse. indeed." remarked Fernand. Pere Pamphile. restraining the young man. clever. "What was I saying? I forget. "you appear to me a good sort of fellow. listened eagerly to the conversation. and hang me." said Danglars." replied Danglars. "You were saying. Say there is no need why Dantes should die. but one gets out of prison. for that requires all one's wit and cool judgment." and Caderousse began to sing the two last lines of a song very popular at the time. but" — "Yes. who. "You talk like a noodle. if you like. sir" — said Fernand."Come. he is not much out in what he says. you would like to help me." "Yes. be a pity he should. with what sense was left him. so much the worse for those who fear wine. awaiting with great anxiety the end of this interrupted remark. methinks. more wine!" and Caderousse rattled his glass upon the table. Prove it. deep fellow. and do not meddle with what we are discussing. your health.'* (* "The wicked are great drinkers of water As the flood proved once for all." said Caderousse. one seeks revenge" — 30 . I should like to help you.

my dear friend. adieu. yes. drink to his health. "Have you not hit upon any?" asked Danglars." persisted Caderousse. and turning towards Fernand. "should they put Dantes in prison? he has not robbed or killed or murdered. Dantes. said. "No. who had let his head drop on the table. Do you find the means. as I shared mine with him. "here's to his health! his health — hurrah!" "But the means — the means?" said Fernand. "And why. "Well. for he who himself hates is never mistaken in the sentiments of others. you have some motive of personal hatred against Dantes." "Hold your tongue!" said Danglars. and this morning offered to share his money with me. restraining him. as you said just now. you understand there is no need to kill him." "I! — motives of hatred against Dantes? None. get out of the affair as best you may. muddlehead?" replied Danglars. — "Kill Dantes! who talks of killing Dantes? I won't have him killed — I won't! He's my friend. no. Danglars saw in the muddled look of the tailor the progress of his intoxication. that's all. for Mercedes has declared she will kill herself if Dantes is killed." and Danglars rose as if he meant to depart. "No! — you undertook to do so. now raised it. But why should I meddle in the matter? it is no affair of mine. I like Dantes." he added. "but this I know." 31 ."What matters that?" muttered Fernand." said Fernand. "We were merely joking. "I won't hold my tongue!" replied Caderousse. I hate him! I confess it openly. if. on my word! I saw you were unhappy." Caderousse. "stay! It is of very little consequence to me at the end of the matter whether you have any angry feeling or not against Dantes. you have the means of having Dantes arrested. provided it is not to kill the man. and your unhappiness interested me. I will execute it. "and do not interfere with us." "I know not why you meddle. I should like to know. "I say I want to know why they should put Dantes in prison. I won't have Dantes killed — I won't!" "And who has said a word about killing him. emptying his glass." "Yes. Dantes' good health!" said Caderousse." "Certainly not. and looking at Fernand with his dull and fishy eyes. your health!" and he swallowed another glass of wine. he said." said Fernand. seizing his arm. but since you believe I act for my own account. filling Caderousse's glass. Have you that means?" "It is to be found for the searching.

I should wish nothing better than that he would come and seek a quarrel with me. who. 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 a sheet of paper. pen." "The fellow is not so drunk as he appears to be. "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. "There's what you want on that table. ink. in which he touched at the Island of Elba. and Mercedes! Mercedes. that the Spaniards ruminate." said Danglars." said Caderousse. and confront you with him you have denounced. a bottle of ink. and paper. "Well!" resumed the Catalan. for instance. "Bring them here. or rather dropped. like the confirmed toper he was. and without my tools I am fit for nothing. I am a supercargo." said Fernand impatiently. almost overcome by this fresh assault on his senses. I will supply you with the means of supporting your accusation. 32 . "When one thinks. ink."True. woe betide him who was the cause of his incarceration!" "Oh. "pen. then. and paper. his glass upon the table. than of a sword or pistol. ink. "the French have the superiority over the Spaniards." muttered Fernand. "that if after a voyage such as Dantes has just made." replied Danglars. who will detest you if you have only the misfortune to scratch the skin of her dearly beloved Edmond!" "True!" said Fernand." "Pen." "Pen. ink. for I know the fact well. Fernand. rested. But Dantes cannot remain forever in prison. then. then. "Well. while the French invent. letting his hand drop on the paper. "Waiter." resumed Danglars. lifted his hand from the paper and seized the glass. I should say." "Yes. The Catalan watched him until Caderousse." called Fernand loudly. but they will make you then sign your declaration. as he saw the final glimmer of Caderousse's reason vanishing before the last glass of wine. "Yes." Fernand filled Caderousse's glass. and one day or other he will leave it. "Give him some more wine." said Danglars." "Do you invent. "Yes." The waiter did as he was desired. and paper. and the day when he comes out." said the waiter. and paper are my tools.

" said Danglars. wrote with his left hand. the following lines." continued Danglars." "Very good. for the letter will be found upon him. "let's have some more wine." And Danglars."No. or in his cabin on board the Pharaon. no. "and if you continue. "In this case. it would be much better to take. `To the king's attorney." said Danglars. who still remained seated. this pen." And Danglars wrote the address as he spoke. Proof of this crime will be found on arresting him. by a last effort of intellect. and write with the left hand (that the writing may not be recognized) the denunciation we propose. and instinctively comprehended all the misery which such a denunciation must entail. "Yes. "if we resolve on such a step. because unable to stand on your legs. and that's all settled. and I. dip it into this ink." and he stretched out his hand to reach the letter. you will be compelled to sleep here. and that's all settled!" exclaimed Caderousse. and I won't have him ill-used. drunkard. that one Edmond Dantes. who. is informed by a friend of the throne and religion. and write upon it." said Danglars. after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo. had followed the reading of the letter. "Dantes is my friend." "You have had too much already. rising and looking at the young man." resumed Danglars. should be sorry if anything happened to Dantes — the worthy Dantes — look here!" And taking the letter. "Yes." replied Caderousse. or at his father's. as I now do. amongst the first and foremost. which he handed to Fernand. uniting practice with theory.' and that's all settled. and by the usurper with a letter for the Bonapartist committee in Paris." 33 . has been intrusted by Murat with a letter for the usurper. for in no way can it revert to yourself. mate of the ship Pharaon. the king's attorney. arrived this morning from Smyrna. only it will be an infamous shame. there is nothing to do now but fold the letter as I am doing. and which Fernand read in an undertone: — "The honorable. but whose eye was fixed on the denunciatory sheet of paper flung into the corner. "All right!" said Caderousse. and in a writing reversed from his usual style. I wish to drink to the health of Edmond and the lovely Mercedes. and totally unlike it. "and as what I say and do is merely in jest. taking it from beyond his reach. and the matter will thus work its own way. he squeezed it up in his hands and threw it into a corner of the arbor." "And who thinks of using him ill? Certainly neither I nor Fernand. "now your revenge looks like common-sense. "Yes.

"why." said Caderousse. Come along. and putting it into his pocket then rush out of the arbor towards Pillon." said Danglars." said Fernand. come. Fernand!" "Oh. won't you return to Marseilles with us?" "No. "but I don't want your arm at all. Hallo. pick up the crumpled paper. there's liberty for all the world. I'll wager I can go up into the belfry of the Accoules." 34 . "I should have said not — how treacherous wine is!" "Come." said Caderousse." "Well. and let us go. to take him off towards Marseilles by the Porte Saint-Victor. Danglars looked back and saw Fernand stoop. "Well. let us go. Give me your arm. and let the young gentleman return to the Catalans if he chooses." said Caderousse. you don't see straight. "he's gone right enough. "I'll take your bet." "I will not. When they had advanced about twenty yards. too!" "Done!" said Danglars. "now the thing is at work and it will effect its purpose unassisted. just as you like. Come. Fernand. Danglars. "I can't keep on my legs? Why. my prince." "You're wrong. staggering as he went. "I shall return to the Catalans. and he is going to the city." Danglars took advantage of Caderousse's temper at the moment." "What do you mean? you will not? Well. and without staggering. Come with us to Marseilles — come along. what a lie he told! He said he was going to the Catalans. but to-morrow — to-day it is time to return." said Danglars to himself." "Very well. rising with all the offended dignity of a drunken man."I?" said Caderousse.

Danglars. the sailors put no restraint on their tumultuous joy at finding that the opinion and choice of their superiors so exactly coincided with their own. in order to do greater honor to the occasion. beneath these windows a wooden balcony extended the entire length of the house. consisting of the favored part of the crew of the Pharaon. and other personal friends of the bride-groom. an hour previous to that time the balcony was filled with impatient and expectant guests. accompanied by Caderousse. 35 . but all seemed unanimous in doubting that an act of such rare and exceeding condescension could possibly be intended. The apartment destined for the purpose was spacious and lighted by a number of windows. stating that he had recently conversed with M. Morrel. The feast had been made ready on the second floor at La Reserve. a moment later M. 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. touching the foamy waves into a network of ruby-tinted light. Various rumors were afloat to the effect that the owners of the Pharaon had promised to attend the nuptial feast. effectually confirmed the report. who now made his appearance. In fact. who had himself assured him of his intention to dine at La Reserve. over each of which was written in golden letters for some inexplicable reason the name of one of the principal cities of France. And although the entertainment was fixed for twelve o'clock. and as Dantes was universally beloved on board his vessel. the whole of whom had arrayed themselves in their choicest costumes. The morning's sun rose clear and resplendent. however.Chapter 5 The Marriage-Feast. 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.

His thin but wiry legs were arrayed in a pair of richly embroidered clocked stockings. father and son. although there still lingered in his mind a faint and unperfect recollection of the events of the preceding night. clad in the dress peculiar to the merchant service — a costume somewhat between a military and a civil garb.With the entrance of M. but ere they had gone many steps they perceived a group advancing towards them. a party of young girls in attendance on the bride. like one who either anticipated or foresaw some great and important event. looking for all the world like one of the aged dandies of 1796. while Fernand. parading the newly opened gardens of the Tuileries and Luxembourg. and a nervous contraction distort his features. a deep flush would overspread his countenance. The old man was attired in a suit of glistening watered silk. while from his three-cornered hat depended a long streaming knot of white and blue ribbons. Danglars and Caderousse took their places beside Fernand and old Dantes. however. to have entirely forgotten that such a being as himself existed. trimmed with steel buttons. Danglars and Caderousse were despatched in search of the bride-groom to convey to him the intelligence of the arrival of the important personage whose coming had created such a lively sensation. Neither Mercedes nor Edmond observed the strange expression of his countenance. was pale and abstracted. whose lips wore their usual sinister smile. his aged countenance lit up with happiness. the whole brought up by Fernand. they were so happy that they were conscious only of the sunshine and the presence of each other. supporting himself on a curiously carved stick. and to beseech him to make haste. who seemed. As Danglars approached the disappointed lover. whose desire to partake of the good things provided for the wedding-party had induced him to become reconciled to the Dantes. as he slowly paced behind the happy pair. occasionally. Dantes himself was simply. in their own unmixed content. Danglars and Caderousse set off upon their errand at full speed. — the latter of whom attracted universal notice. and with his fine countenance. with an agitated and restless gaze. Thus he came along. and exchanged a hearty shake of the hand with Edmond. while. Beside him glided Caderousse. he cast on him a look of deep meaning. by whose side walked Dantes' father. radiant with joy and 36 . Having acquitted themselves of their errand. composed of the betrothed pair. just as the brain retains on waking in the morning the dim and misty outline of a dream. beautifully cut and polished. Morrel. evidently of English manufacture. he would glance in the direction of Marseilles. but becomingly.

beneath whose heavy tread the slight structure creaked and groaned for the space of several minutes. while. "Father. that are cast up by the wash of waters on the sandy beach. Arlesian sausages. as he carried to his lips a glass of wine of the hue and brightness of the topaz. the clovis. Danglars at his left. respectfully placed the arm of his affianced bride within that of M. I pray you. prawns of large size and brilliant color." pointing with a soft and gentle smile to Fernand. on my left I will place him who has ever been as a brother to me. piquant. followed by the soldiers and sailors there assembled. Mercedes boasted the same bright flashing eyes of jet. or. at a sign from Edmond. but. the delighted girl looked around her with a smile that seemed to say: "If you are my friends. rejoice with me. Morrel descended and came forth to meet it. so as to have concealed the liquid lustre of her animated eyes. Then they began to pass around the dusky." As soon as the bridal party came in sight of La Reserve. at least. esteemed by the epicures of the South as more than rivalling the exquisite flavor of the oyster. and styled by the grateful fishermen "fruits of the sea. stopping when she had reached the centre of the table. M. forthwith conducting her up the flight of wooden steps leading to the chamber in which the feast was prepared. at the approach of his patron. round. coral lips. a more perfect specimen of manly beauty could scarcely be imagined. One more practiced in the arts of great cities would have hid her blushes beneath a veil." "A pretty silence truly!" said the old father of the bride-groom. that Dantes should be the successor to the late Captain Leclere. was gayly followed by the guests. in fact. 37 . free step of an Arlesienne or an Andalusian. "sit. and ripe. Edmond. — all the delicacies. the echinus with its prickly outside and dainty morsel within. for I am very happy. 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. at the opposite side of the table. to whom he had repeated the promise already given. who. Lovely as the Greek girls of Cyprus or Chios. Morrel. had been occupied in similarly placing his most honored guests. and lobsters in their dazzling red cuirasses.happiness. for his lips became ghastly pale. M. She moved with the light." said Mercedes. but her words and look seemed to inflict the direst torture on him. Dantes. the rest of the company ranged themselves as they found it most agreeable. on the contrary. Morrel was seated at his right hand. on my right hand. have cast down her thickly fringed lashes. During this time.

"Well. nay!" cried Caderousse. thus it is. Just assume the tone and manner of a husband. next to my father. happiness is like the enchanted palaces we read of in our childhood." "And that is the very thing that alarms me. you are right." returned Dantes. "a man cannot always feel happy because he is about to be married. my worthy friend. Mercedes is not yet your wife." sighed Caderousse. what ails you?" asked he of Edmond. "Man does not appear to me to be intended to enjoy felicity so unmixed. "you have not attained that honor yet. while Fernand grasped the handle of his knife with a convulsive clutch. turning pale. "Now." "The truth is. where fierce. "Do you fear any approaching evil? I should say that you were the happiest man alive at this instant. "How is that." replied Dantes. with the exception of the elder Dantes." added he. seemed to start at every fresh sound. Mercedes looked pleased and gratified." replied Dantes. it is not worth while to contradict me for such a trifle as that. drawing out his watch. I owe every blessing I enjoy. to whom. my friend?" "Why. whose excitable nature received and betrayed each fresh impression. restless and uneasy." "Nay. Morrel. fiery dragons defend the entrance and approach. and monsters of all shapes and kinds. every 38 . smiling. 'Tis true that Mercedes is not actually my wife. and see how she will remind you that your hour is not yet come!" The bride blushed. who desire nothing better than to laugh and dance the hours away?" "Ah. neighbor Caderousse.and which had just been placed before Mercedes herself. and from time to time wiped away the large drops of perspiration that gathered on his brow. 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. merry party. whose laugh displayed the still perfect beauty of his large white teeth." Danglars looked towards Fernand. it seems to oppress us almost the same as sorrow. but. requiring to be overcome ere victory is ours. joy takes a strange effect at times. never mind that. "In an hour?" inquired Danglars. "Why." A general exclamation of surprise ran round the table. if that is what you meant by your observation. would anybody think that this room contained a happy. "in an hour and a half she will be. "that I am too happy for noisy mirth. while Fernand. "Thanks to the influence of M.

We have purchased permission to waive the usual delay. had commented upon the silence that prevailed. while Mercedes glanced at the clock and made an expressive gesture to Edmond. that. is all the time I shall be absent. Dantes." asked Danglars. I shall be back here by the first of March. was lost amid the noisy felicitations of the company. to obtain a moment's tranquillity in which to drink to the health and prosperity of the bride and bridegroom. and at half-past two o'clock the mayor of Marseilles will be waiting for us at the city hall. and married to-day at three o'clock! Commend me to a sailor for going the quick way to work!" "But. however. no. which." This joke elicited a fresh burst of applause. "it didn't take long to fix that. at the commencement of the repast. 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. I do not consider I have asserted too much in saying. our papers were quickly written out. four days to go. you see.difficulty his been removed. Such as at the 39 . perceiving the affectionate eagerness of his father. who. as a quarter-past one has already struck." cried the old man. he could not refrain from uttering a deep groan. amid the general din of voices. and certainly do not come very expensive." answered Dantes. "Upon my word. "So that what we presumed to be merely the betrothal feast turns out to be the actual wedding dinner!" said Danglars. in a timid tone. So. and he was compelled to support himself by the table to prevent his falling from his chair. I have none to settle on her. in another hour and thirty minutes Mercedes will have become Madame Dantes. Mercedes has no fortune. laughingly. and on the second I give my real marriage feast. now found it difficult. that the elder Dantes. with one day to discharge the commission intrusted to me. To-morrow morning I start for Paris." This prospect of fresh festivity redoubled the hilarity of the guests to such a degree. Arrived here only yesterday morning. and the same to return. "don't imagine I am going to put you off in that shabby manner. "how did you manage about the other formalities — the contract — the settlement?" "The contract. Now. "you make short work of this kind of affair." Fernand closed his eyes. a burning sensation passed across his brow. but in spite of all his efforts." answered Dantes. responded by a look of grateful pleasure. "No.

"let us go directly!" His words were re-echoed by the whole party. when the beauty of the bride is concerned. — "upon my word. Fernand's paleness appeared to have communicated itself to Danglars. saw him stagger and fall back. At this moment Danglars. he was among the first to quit the table. against a seat placed near one of the open windows." "Shall we not set forth?" asked the sweet. silvery voice of Mercedes. united with the effect of the excellent wine he had partaken of. and sought out more agreeable companions. but when I saw how completely he had mastered his feelings. "two o'clock has just struck. had effaced every feeling of envy or jealousy at Dantes' good fortune. "Upon my word. to pace the farther end of the salon. even so far as to become one of his rival's attendants. had joined him in a corner of the room.commencement of the repast had not been able to seat themselves according to their inclination rose unceremoniously. Upon my soul. "the sacrifice was no trifling one. "Certainly. I knew there was no further cause for apprehension. and. with vociferous cheers. Everybody talked at once. with an almost convulsive spasm. "at first I certainly did feel somewhat uneasy as to what Fernand might be tempted to do. Caderousse approached him just as Danglars. whom Fernand seemed most anxious to avoid. in utter silence. there was no harm meant. Dantes is a downright good fellow. from whose mind the friendly treatment of Dantes. At the same instant his ear caught a sort of indistinct 40 . as though seeking to avoid the hilarious mirth that rose in such deafening sounds." answered Danglars. eagerly quitting the table. and you know we are expected in a quarter of an hour. As for Fernand himself." Caderousse looked full at Fernand — he was ghastly pale. without waiting for a reply and each one seemed to be contented with expressing his or her own thoughts. and when I see him sitting there beside his pretty wife that is so soon to be. he continued." "To be sure! — to be sure!" cried Dantes. I cannot help thinking it would have been a great pity to have served him that trick you were planning yesterday. who had been incessantly observing every change in Fernand's look and manner." said Caderousse." continued Danglars." "Oh. he seemed to be enduring the tortures of the damned. unable to rest. I only wish he would let me take his place. that future captain of mine is a lucky dog! Gad.

advanced with dignity. it must. meanwhile. and a magistrate. He saw before him an officer delegated to enforce the law. "and wherefore. and although I most reluctantly perform the task assigned me. "I arrest you in the name of the law!" "Me!" repeated Edmond. that even the officer was touched. Morrel felt that further resistance or remonstrance was useless. nevertheless. let me beg of you to calm your apprehensions. although firm in his duty.sound on the stairs. whom he evidently knew." "If it be so." M. but you will be duly acquainted with the reasons that have rendered such a step necessary at the preliminary examination. Your son has probably neglected some prescribed form or attention in registering 41 . as to address a petition to some cold marble effigy. and said. he kindly said. spite of the agitation he could not but feel. sprang forward. Uneasiness now yielded to the most extreme dread on the part of those present. "in the name of the law!" As no attempt was made to prevent it." replied the magistrate." said a loud voice outside the room. presented himself. addressing the magistrate. There are situations which the heart of a father or a mother cannot be made to understand. Three blows were struck upon the panel of the door. "May I venture to inquire the reason of this unexpected visit?" said M. among whom a vague feeling of curiosity and apprehension quelled every disposition to talk. "rely upon every reparation being made. in a firm voice. "I am he. the door was opened. The sounds drew nearer. with the clanking of swords and military accoutrements. Morrel. followed by four soldiers and a corporal. "there is doubtless some mistake easily explained. Old Dantes. so as to deaden even the noisy mirth of the bridal party. be fulfilled. what is your pleasure with me?" "Edmond Dantes." replied the magistrate. followed by the measured tread of soldiery. slightly changing color. however. and. and perfectly well knew that it would be as unavailing to seek pity from a magistrate decked with his official scarf. I pray?" "I cannot inform you. wearing his official scarf. The company looked at each other in consternation. "I demand admittance. and almost instantaneously the most deathlike stillness prevailed. He prayed and supplicated in terms so moving. then came a hum and buzz as of many voices. "My worthy friend. Who among the persons here assembled answers to the name of Edmond Dantes?" Every eye was turned towards the young man who. I am the bearer of an order of arrest.

besides. my good fellows. you fool! — what should you know about it? — why. "Make yourselves quite easy." "Oh. A carriage awaited him at the door. "I am. followed by two soldiers and the magistrate. "How can I tell you?" replied he. you did not!" answered Caderousse. whether touching the health of his crew. 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. to be sure!" responded Danglars. preceded by the magistrate. I suppose." "Nonsense. but he had disappeared. "gone." Caderousse then looked around for Fernand. there is some little mistake to clear up." said he. after having exchanged a cheerful shake of the hand with all his sympathizing friends." During this conversation. "How do I know?" replied Danglars. you were drunk!" "Where is Fernand?" inquired Caderousse. of Danglars. utterly bewildered at all that is going on. merely saying. "So. so. 42 . that if it be so. "nothing more than a mistake. I feel quite certain. and well deserves to bring double evil on those who have projected it." "What is the meaning of all this?" inquired Caderousse. and followed by the soldiers. 'tis an ill turn. who had now approached the group. like yourself. as every prudent man ought to be. frowningly. he got in. "this. that's all. in a hoarse and choking voice. and cannot in the least make out what it is about. let you and I go and see what is to be done for our poor friends. and very likely I may not have to go so far as the prison to effect that. most likely. Dantes. The scene of the previous night now came back to his mind with startling clearness." returned Danglars." "Hold your tongue. and it is more than probable he will be set at liberty directly he has given the information required. or the value of his freight. Never mind where he is. "you merely threw it by — I saw it lying in a corner." "No. "I tell you again I have nothing whatever to do with it. you know very well that I tore the paper to pieces. to Danglars. to look after his own affairs. depend upon it." Dantes descended the staircase. then. is a part of the trick you were concerting yesterday? All I can say is.his cargo. had surrendered himself to the officer sent to arrest him. who had assumed an air of utter surprise. and the vehicle drove off towards Marseilles.

" said one of the party. poured out for himself a glass of water with a trembling hand. "go. The prisoner heard the cry. "What think you."Adieu. Mercedes — we shall soon meet again!" Then the vehicle disappeared round one of the turnings of Fort Saint Nicholas. to Danglars. he's too stupid to imagine such a scheme." "You don't mention those who aided and abetted the deed. I only hope the mischief will fall upon the head of whoever wrought it." said Caderousse. dearest Edmond!" cried Mercedes." 43 . by mere chance. which sounded like the sob of a broken heart. "I think it just possible Dantes may have been detected with some trifling article on board ship considered here as contraband. "one cannot be held responsible for every chance arrow shot into the air. "Surely. "of this event?" "Why." whispered Caderousse." answered the other. placed next to the seat on which poor Mercedes had fallen half fainting. and leaning from the coach he called out. and hurry to Marseilles. and with a simultaneous burst of feeling rushed into each other's arms. went to sit down at the first vacant place. but at length the two poor victims of the same blow raised their eyes. "He is the cause of all this misery — I am quite sure of it. "I don't think so. turning towards him. who had never taken his eyes off Fernand. when the arrow lights point downward on somebody's head. and this was. Instinctively Fernand drew back his chair. when released from the warm and affectionate embrace of old Dantes. Morrel. whence I will bring you word how all is going on. The old father and Mercedes remained for some time apart." "You can. then hastily swallowing it. stretching out her arms to him from the balcony. 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. Danglars. Meanwhile Fernand made his appearance. indeed. "I will take the first conveyance I find. each absorbed in grief." replied he." answered Danglars. "Wait for me here. all of you!" cried M. adieu." Meantime the subject of the arrest was being canvassed in every different form." "That's right!" exclaimed a multitude of voices. "Good-by.

now burst out in a violent fit of hysterical sobbing. "Hope!" faintly murmured Fernand. and I beg I may not be asked for any further particulars." "Oh. and a convulsive spasm passed over his countenance. Morrel." said the afflicted old father. however. Danglars. and discovered poor Dantes' hidden treasures. indeed — indeed. and at Smyrna from Pascal's. Her grief. now." said the old man. there is still hope!" "Hope!" repeated Danglars. you see. "my poor boy told me yesterday he had got a small case of coffee. "you have deceived me — the trick you spoke of last night has been played. since you are the ship's supercargo?" "Why. and another of tobacco for me!" "There. the old man sank into a chair. "What news?" exclaimed a general burst of voices. "be comforted. Morrel." exclaimed Danglars. "Ah. as for that. depend upon it the custom-house people went rummaging about the ship in our absence. I know she was loaded with cotton. Danglars!" whispered Caderousse. "Alas. "Good news! good news!" shouted forth one of the party stationed in the balcony on the lookout."But how could he have done so without your knowledge. "but still he is charged" — "With what?" inquired the elder Dantes. "That I believe!" answered M. paid no heed to this explanation of her lover's arrest. but the word seemed to die away on his pale agitated lips. we shall hear that our friend is released!" Mercedes and the old man rushed to meet the shipowner and greeted him at the door. No doubt. I could only know what I was told respecting the merchandise with which the vessel was laden. "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. my friends. my poor child. sir. come. A despairing cry escaped the pale lips of Mercedes. Morrel back. He was very pale. "Now the mischief is out. and that she took in her freight at Alexandria from Pastret's warehouse. "Come." "Now I recollect. "Here comes M." replied M. "the thing has assumed a more serious aspect than I expected. he is innocent!" sobbed forth Mercedes. that is all I was obliged to know. but I cannot suffer a poor 44 . with a mournful shake of his head. which she had hitherto tried to restrain." Mercedes.

where he quitted it. will it not be taken for granted that all who uphold him are his accomplices?" With the rapid instinct of selfishness. he overtook his supercargo and Caderousse. Who can tell whether Dantes be innocent or guilty? The vessel did touch at Elba. pleased to find the other so tractable. from M. should any letters or other documents of a compromising character be found upon him. I cannot stay here any longer. if guilty. as. on account of your uncle. M. who served under the other government. casting a bewildered look on his companion. "or I will not answer even for your own safety. it is no use involving ourselves in a conspiracy. Policar Morrel. de Villefort. Now. and passed a whole day in the island." said he." "Be silent. Then added in a low whisper. wistfully. you know I told you. my dear Danglars?" asked M. "Could you have believed such a thing possible?" "Why. I should have feared to injure both 45 . "You understand that. on Danglars. by all means. who had now again become the friend and protector of Mercedes. why. of course he will be set at liberty. "Let us take ourselves out of the way. he gazed. and see what comes of it. The rumor of Edmond's arrest as a Bonapartist agent was not slow in circulating throughout the city. and who does not altogether conceal what he thinks on the subject. doubtfully." "And did you mention these suspicions to any person beside myself?" "Certainly not!" returned Danglars. you are strongly suspected of regretting the abdication of Napoleon. I am determined to tell them all about it. led the girl to her home.old man or an innocent girl to die of grief through your fault. and then caution supplanted generosity. "To be sure!" answered Danglars. "that I considered the circumstance of his having anchored at the Island of Elba as a very suspicious circumstance. Morrel. while the friends of Dantes conducted the now half-fainting man back to his abode." "With all my heart!" replied Danglars. then. "Let us wait. and leave things for the present to take their course. "Suppose we wait a while." "Let us go. Fernand. Caderousse readily perceived the solidity of this mode of reasoning. the assistant procureur. If he be innocent. "Could you ever have credited such a thing." After their departure. grasping him by the arm." replied Danglars. you simpleton!" cried Danglars. on his return to the port for the purpose of gleaning fresh tidings of Dantes.

I am too well aware that though a subordinate. had I divulged my own apprehensions to a soul." "But meanwhile. Private misfortunes must never be allowed to interfere with business. but do you think we shall be permitted to see our poor Edmond?" "I will let you know that directly I have seen M." "Is it possible you were so kind?" "Yes." continued M. Morrel. M. and look carefully to the unloading of her freight. and it will be so far advantageous to you to accept my services. "You know that I am as capable of managing a ship as the most experienced captain in the service." "'Tis well. I fully authorize you at once to assume the command of the Pharaon. de Villefort. like myself." "Thanks. Morrel. and if he should have any reluctance to continue you in your post." answered Danglars. "since we cannot leave this port for the next three months. "No one can deny his being a noblehearted young fellow. but that whoever possessed the good opinion and confidence of the ship's owner would have his preference also. "here is the Pharaon without a captain." "No doubt. is bound to acquaint the shipowner with everything that occurs. "You are a worthy fellow. Danglars — 'tis well!" replied M. Morrel. let us hope that ere the expiration of that period Dantes will be set at liberty. whom I shall endeavor to interest in Edmond's favor. there are many things he ought most carefully to conceal from all else." replied Danglars. for somehow I have perceived a sort of coolness between you." "Oh.Edmond and yourself." "Be easy on that score. Morrel. Danglars — that will smooth over all difficulties. 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. "Poor Dantes!" said Caderousse. I had previously inquired of Dantes what was his opinion of you. I am aware he is a furious 46 . and I had already thought of your interests in the event of poor Edmond having become captain of the Pharaon. M." "And what was his reply?" "That he certainly did think he had given you offence in an affair which he merely referred to without entering into particulars. but in the meantime?" "I am entirely at your service. indeed." "The hypocrite!" murmured Danglars.

he may have sent the letter itself! Fortunately. "I would give a great deal if nothing of the kind had happened. by Heavens. But now hasten on board. Morrel. and bending his steps towards the Allees de Meillan. moving his head to and fro." "Still." "Nonsense! If any harm come of it." "Well. "that I can answer for. he is a man like ourselves. he did not take the trouble of recopying it." returned M. is Fernand." argued Caderousse. "the turn things have taken. you know. you knew very well that I threw the paper into a corner of the room — indeed. that I had had no hand in it." "But who perpetrated that joke. and either copied it or caused it to be copied. depend upon it. that I have unconsciously stumbled upon the truth. or. well. you did not. in spite of that. for me." So saying. and that's rather against him. let me ask? neither you nor myself. after the manner of one whose mind was overcharged with one absorbing idea." "Oh." replied Danglars. it should fall on the guilty person. the handwriting was disguised. however. As I before said. I fancied I had destroyed it. "but I hear that he is ambitious. And now I think of it. that it will turn out an unlucky job for both of us.royalist. nothing more. then. and of his being king's attorney. even. 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. but yet it seems to me a shocking thing that a mere joke should lead to such consequences. not breathing a word to any living soul. I thought the whole thing was a joke. Danglars. no. perhaps. and that. if you did. I will join you there ere long." said Danglars. Do you still feel any desire to stand up in his defence?" "Not the slightest. You will see. and you will see that the storm will pass away without in the least affecting us. Fernand picked it up. the worthy shipowner quitted the two allies. It seems. addressing Caderousse. and remain perfectly quiet." replied Caderousse. and proceeded in the direction of the Palais de Justice. waving his hand in token of adieu to Danglars." "Then you were aware of Dantes being engaged in a conspiracy?" "Not I. "You see. at least." "Perhaps not. and I fancy not a bad sort of one. "we shall see. to keep our own counsel. and muttering as he went." "Amen!" responded Caderousse. but Fernand. 47 . How can we be implicated in any way? All we have got to do is." "Well. but.

temporarily. he leaped into a boat." said Danglars. Morrel had agreed to meet him. commander of the Pharaon. "she will take her own. then. desiring to be rowed on board the Pharaon. with the certainty of being permanently so." added he with a smile. "all has gone as I would have it." So saying. there."So far. My only fear is the chance of Dantes being released. But. 48 . if that fool of a Caderousse can be persuaded to hold his tongue. where M. mentally. and. I am. he is in the hands of Justice.

after having held sovereign sway over one-half of the world. and in this they foresaw for themselves the bright and cheering prospect of a revivified political existence. The guests were still at table. but over the defeat of the Napoleonic idea. Instead of a rude mixture of sailors. officers who had deserted from the imperial army and joined forces with Conde. In this case. almost at the same hour with the nuptial repast given by Dantes. the military part of the company talked unreservedly of Moscow and Leipsic. and younger members of families. — after having been accustomed to hear the "Vive Napoleons" of a hundred and twenty millions of human beings.Chapter 6 The Deputy Procureur du Roi. a second marriage feast was being celebrated. now king of the petty Island of Elba. uttered in ten different languages. brought up to hate and execrate the man whom five years of exile would convert into a martyr. soldiers. and those belonging to the humblest grade of life. — was looked upon here as a ruined man. counting as his subjects a small population of five or six thousand souls. 49 . while the women commented on the divorce of Josephine. The magistrates freely discussed their political views. however. — magistrates who had resigned their office during the usurper's reign. although the occasion of the entertainment was similar. that they rejoiced. the present assembly was composed of the very flower of Marseilles society. The emperor. and fifteen of restoration elevate to the rank of a god. for five centuries religious strife had long given increased bitterness to the violence of party feeling. separated forever from any fresh connection with France or claim to her throne. It was not over the downfall of the man. the company was strikingly dissimilar. In one of the aristocratic mansions built by Puget in the Rue du Grand Cours opposite the Medusa fountain. where unhappily. and the heated and energetic conversation that prevailed betrayed the violent and vindictive passions that then agitated each dweller of the South.

glasses were elevated in the air a l'Anglais. with a look of tenderness that seemed out of keeping with her harsh dry features. was. and that is the shrine of maternal love. wealth. It was the Marquis de SaintMeran. What I was saying. dearest mother. yes. I shall be delighted to answer. decorated with the cross of Saint Louis." "If the marquise will deign to repeat the words I but imperfectly caught. on one's wedding day there are more agreeable subjects of conversation than dry politics. let me tell you. "Never mind." "Marquise. they could not help admitting that the king. for whom we sacrificed rank.An old man. an almost poetical fervor prevailed. and the ladies." said M. snatching their bouquets from their fair bosoms. M. Villefort?" "I beg your pardon. or devotion. "I forgive you. so as to prevent his listening to what you said. Villefort. who have driven us from those very possessions they afterwards purchased for a mere trifle during the Reign of Terror. "'tis all my fault for seizing upon M.' while their wretched usurper his been. But there — now take him — he is your own for as long as you like. This toast. since we were content to follow the fortunes of a falling monarch. made their fortune by worshipping the rising sun. despite her fifty years — "ah. enthusiasm. with a profusion of light brown hair. these revolutionists. I beg to remind you my mother speaks to you. yes. that all true devotion was on our side." replied the marquise." said the Marquise de Saint-Meran." said a young and lovely girl. I really must pray you to excuse me. while they. however all other feelings may be withered in a woman's nature. to them their evil genius. and ever will be. strewed the table with their floral treasures." 50 . de Villefort. on the contrary. recalling at once the patient exile of Hartwell and the peace-loving King of France. marquise!" interposed the old nobleman who had proposed the toast. but. a woman with a stern. and station was truly our `Louis the well-beloved. excited universal enthusiasm. and eyes that seemed to float in liquid crystal. but — in truth — I was not attending to the conversation. would be compelled to own. their `Napoleon the accursed. that the Bonapartists had not our sincerity. Renee. now rose and proposed the health of King Louis XVIII. there is always one bright smiling spot in the desert of her heart. In a word. de Villefort.' Am I not right. forbidding eye. "let the young people alone. madame." "Never mind. were they here. "Ah. Villefort. though still noble and distinguished in appearance.

in proof of which I may remark. as I trust he is forever. who. however. Villefort. the other elevates the people to a level with the throne. "I do not mean to deny that both these men were revolutionary scoundrels. it has been so with other usurpers — Cromwell. Observe. he was an equal sufferer with yourself during the Reign of Terror. "and that was fanaticism. The only difference consists in the opposite character of the equality advocated by these two men." "Do you know. that you are talking in a most dreadfully revolutionary strain? But I excuse it. for instance. and 51 ." "True. Still. but also as the personification of equality. do not strip the latter of his just rights to bestow them on the Corsican. "but bear in mind. one is the equality that elevates." "Nay. come. to my mind. Napoleon has still retained a train of parasitical satellites. were lucky days for France. it is impossible to expect the son of a Girondin to be free from a small spice of the old leaven. your father lost no time in joining the new government. fallen. that while my family remained among the stanchest adherents of the exiled princes. and is worshipped by his commonplace but ambitions followers. that our respective parents underwent persecution and proscription from diametrically opposite principles. that of Napoleon on the column of the Place Vendome. but he was not among the number of those who voted for the king's death. what supplied the place of those fine qualities. then." said Villefort. if you please. and that the 9th Thermidor and the 4th of April." replied the marquise." answered he." "He!" cried the marquise: "Napoleon the type of equality! For mercy's sake. and had well-nigh lost his head on the same scaffold on which your father perished. I would place each of these heroes on his right pedestal — that of Robespierre on his scaffold in the Place Louis Quinze." replied the young man. who was not half so bad as Napoleon. and that explains how it comes to pass that. had his partisans and advocates. what would you call Robespierre? Come. in the year 1814. Napoleon is the Mahomet of the West. one brings a king within reach of the guillotine. marquise. "that my father was a Girondin. without wincing in the slightest degree at the tragic remembrance thus called up. madame."They had. "'Tis true. madame. has usurped quite enough. the other is the equality that degrades. worthy of being gratefully remembered by every friend to monarchy and civil order." A deep crimson suffused the countenance of Villefort. smiling. not only as a leader and lawgiver.

that we have pledged ourselves to his majesty for your fealty and strict loyalty. But bear in mind. and is called Noirtier. I. madame. also." interposed Renee. But we have not done with the thing yet. Remember. to separate entirely from the stock from which it sprung. I have already successfully conducted several public prosecutions. under one frivolous pretext or other. and condescend only to regard the young shoot which has started up at a distance from the parent tree." "Do you. from hence arise 52 . fearful of it." "Dear mother. is too near France. who are daily. compels me to be severe. I have laid aside even the name of my father. am a stanch royalist. All I ask is. Marseilles is filled with half-pay officers. a perfect amnesty and forgetfulness of the past. Napoleon. without having the power. you will be so much the more bound to visit the offence with rigorous punishment. now. think so?" inquired the marquise. namely. "excellently well said! Come. "to add my earnest request to Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran's. and that at our recommendation the king consented to forget the past. as I do" (and here she extended to him her hand) — "as I now do at your entreaty." "With all my heart. and altogether disown his political principles. Villefort!" cried the marquis. probably may still be — a Bonapartist. Villefort." replied Villefort.that while the Citizen Noirtier was a Girondin. I promise you it affords me as little pleasure to revive it as it does you. also. and style myself de Villefort. at least. indeed." replied the marquise. and brought the offenders to merited punishment. as it is known you belong to a suspected family. "you know very well it was agreed that all these disagreeable reminiscences should forever be laid aside. madame. in the Island of Elba. on the contrary. as well as the times in which we live. I have hopes of obtaining what I have been for years endeavoring to persuade the marquise to promise. getting up quarrels with the royalists. Let what may remain of revolutionary sap exhaust itself and die away with the old trunk. What avails recrimination over matters wholly past recall? For my own part. the Count Noirtier became a senator. that Villefort will be firm and inflexible for the future in his political principles. and his proximity keeps up the hopes of his partisans." "Suffer me." "Alas. that you will kindly allow the veil of oblivion to cover and conceal the past. that should there fall in your way any one guilty of conspiring against the government." returned Villefort. any more than the wish. "I am." "Bravo. "let the past be forever forgotten. He was — nay. "my profession.

" "Unfortunately. "there are the treaties of 1814. and Naples." "Then all he has got to do is to endeavor to repair it. one of M. de Villefort to purify Marseilles of his partisans. madame." responded M. the sovereignty of which he coveted for his son. As Villefort observes. The king is either a king or no king. they were talking about it when we left Paris." "For heaven's sake. madame. "the strong arm of the law is not called upon to interfere until the evil has taken place. of which his brother-in-law is king." replied the young man." "You have heard. where he was born." "Oh." "Oh." said M. instead of shedding tears as at the fictitious tale of woe produced at a theatre. you behold in a law-court a case of real and genuine distress — a drama of 53 . "do try and get up some famous trial while we are at Marseilles." replied the count. I am told it is so very amusing!" "Amusing. de Saint-Meran's oldest friends.continual and fatal duels among the higher classes of persons. perhaps. certainly. and we must trust to the vigilance of M. by the aid of the Holy Alliance. "There wasn't any trouble over treaties when it was a question of shooting the poor Duc d'Enghien." said Villefort. well. de Salvieux. the law is frequently powerless to effect this. and assassinations in the lower. and we cannot molest Napoleon without breaking those compacts. "it seems probable that." answered Villefort. if he be acknowledged as sovereign of France." cried a beautiful young creature. and face to face with Italy. de SaintMeran. we shall find some way out of it. "and where is it decided to transfer him?" "To Saint Helena. I never was in a law-court. where is that?" asked the marquise. "So much the better. daughter to the Comte de Salvieux. de Villefort. M. at least two thousand leagues from here." "Unfortunately. we shall be rid of Napoleon." said the marquise. he should be upheld in peace and tranquillity. "An island situated on the other side of the equator." said the Comte de Salvieux. "that the Holy Alliance purpose removing him from thence?" "Yes. "inasmuch as. and chamberlain to the Comte d'Artois. 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. all it can do is to avenge the wrong done. it is a great act of folly to have left such a man between Corsica." "Well." "Nay. and the cherished friend of Mademoiselle de SaintMeran.

my dear Villefort!" remarked a third. de Villefort!" said Renee. to have served under Napoleon — well. than to slaughter his fellow-creatures. "I mean the trial of the man for murdering his father. I would not choose to see the man against whom I pleaded smile. in order to lash one's self into a state of sufficient vehemence and power. as is more than probable. — is removed from your sight merely to be reconducted to his prison and delivered up to the executioner." said a second. becoming quite pale. "don't you see how you are frightening us? — and yet you laugh. as though in mockery of my words. can you expect for an instant. agitated. "you surely are not in earnest. one requires the excitement of being hateful in the eyes of the accused. M. however. to rush fearlessly on the very bayonets of his foe. "and in the interesting trial that young lady is anxious to witness. "What a splendid business that last case of yours was. "Bravo!" cried one of the guests. I leave you to judge how far your nerves are calculated to bear you through such a scene. Of this. against the movers of political conspiracies. my pride is to see the accused pale. you killed him ere the executioner had laid his hand upon him. Suppose. M." "Just the person we require at a time like the present." 54 . and then retiring to rest. agitated. the prisoner. The prisoner whom you there see pale. for I will not fail to offer you the choice of being present. No." Renee uttered a smothered exclamation. will scruple more to drive a stiletto into the heart of one he knows to be his personal enemy. becoming more and more terrified. instead of — as is the case when a curtain falls on a tragedy — going home to sup peacefully with his family. merely because bidden to do so by one he is bound to obey? Besides. be assured. that one accustomed." "Indeed I am." said Renee. and alarmed. and only waiting a favorable opportunity to be buried in my heart?" "Gracious heavens. de Villefort. and who can say how many daggers may be ready sharpened. five or six times." "What would you have? 'Tis like a duel." "For shame. I have already recorded sentence of death. at the word of his commander. that he may recommence his mimic woes on the morrow. Upon my word. "that is what I call talking to some purpose. that should any favorable opportunity present itself." replied the young magistrate with a smile. and as though beaten out of all composure by the fire of my eloquence. the case would only be still more aggravated.

and he who shall plot or contrive aught against the life and safety of the parent of thirty-two millions of souls." responded the marquise. he will have achieved a noble work." Having made this well-turned speech." added the incorrigible marquise. "that M. and embroidery. as he gazed with unutterable tenderness on the lovely speaker. at the present moment. possibly." said the marquise. for instance." replied Renee." "And one which will go far to efface the recollection of his father's conduct. a firm and zealous friend to religion and order — a better royalist. with a mournful smile. but as regards poor unfortunate creatures whose only crime consists in having mixed themselves up in political intrigues" — "Why. "I have already had the honor to observe that my father has — at least. the king is the father of his people. Nowadays the military profession is in abeyance and the magisterial robe is the badge of honor. I hope so — abjured his past errors. "you and I will always consult upon our verdicts." cried the marquis." replied Villefort. "Let us hope." "My love. "I cannot speak Latin. M. that is the very worst offence they could possibly commit. but do not meddle with what you do not understand." said Villefort with a bow. your lap-dogs. as for parricides. for. de Villefort may prove the moral and political physician of this province. my child." said Renee. Do you know I always felt a shudder at the idea of even a destroying angel?" "Dear. you have promised me — have you not? — always to show mercy to those I plead for. than his son." whispered Villefort. don't you see. is a parricide upon a fearfully great scale?" "I don't know anything about that. Renee." interposed Renee." "Make yourself quite easy on that point. There is a wise Latin proverb that is very much in point. "I cannot help regretting you had not chosen some other profession than your own — a physician. "it matters very little what is done to them. for he has to atone for past dereliction. decided preference and conviction. de Villefort. "Well. and that he is. "Madame." answered Villefort. 55 . with one of his sweetest smiles."Oh. if so." "Cedant arma togae. and such dreadful people as that. while I have no other impulse than warm. "attend to your doves. "but. good Renee. much as he would have done had he been addressing the bench in open court. Villefort looked carefully around to mark the effect of his oratory.

and the stings of wasps. were a conspirator to fall into your hands. Now. I like him much. `Villefort' — observe that the king did not pronounce the word Noirtier." answered the marquis. dear mother." cried the marquise. without our suspecting it. on the contrary. he will confess that they perfectly agree with what his majesty said to him. "I give you his very words. `is a young man of great judgment and discretion. — then I shall be contented." At this moment." cried the Comte de Salvieux. and if the marquis chooses to be candid. and miserable cheats to fall into M." interposed Renee. measles. Villefort immediately rose from table 56 ." "That is true.' said his majesty. and that Providence will only permit petty offenders. "I trust your wishes will not prosper. who will be sure to make a figure in his profession.'" "Is it possible the king could have condescended so far as to express himself so favorably of me?" asked the enraptured Villefort. my dear Villefort. but. and as though the utterance of Villefort's wish had sufficed to effect its accomplishment. and whispered a few words in his ear. If you wish to see me the king's attorney. 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. "that is exactly what I myself said the other day at the Tuileries. interrupted us by saying. "I love to see you thus. a servant entered the room. when he went six months ago to consult him upon the subject of your espousing his daughter. then. Then the king. and I assure you he seemed fully to comprehend that this mode of reconciling political differences was based upon sound and excellent principles. or any other slight affection of the epidermis. I should myself have recommended the match. you must desire for me some of those violent and dangerous diseases from the cure of which so much honor redounds to the physician. had not the noble marquis anticipated my wishes by requesting my consent to it."Do you know. poor debtors. de Villefort's hands. and it gave me great pleasure to hear that he was about to become the son-inlaw of the Marquis and Marquise de Saint-Meran. "How much do I owe this gracious prince! What is there I would not do to evince my earnest gratitude!" "That is right. placed considerable emphasis on that of Villefort — `Villefort. he would be most welcome. who." "For my part." "Just the same as though you prayed that a physician might only be called upon to prescribe for headaches. had overheard our conversation.

seemed formed to excite the innocent admiration with which she gazed on her graceful and intelligent lover. then it will assuredly be discovered in the cabin belonging to the said Dantes on board the Pharaon. "Is it possible?" burst simultaneously from all who were near enough to the magistrate to hear his words. addressing her. but to the king's attorney. which bids fair to make work for the executioner. Should it not be found in the possession of father or son. but that gentleman being absent. is not even addressed to you. "Why. "You were wishing just now. Ample corroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting the above-mentioned Edmond Dantes. which. turning pale." said Villefort." said Villefort: — "`The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and the religions institutions of his country. Well. he soon. Renee regarded him with fond affection. if my information prove correct. "I will read you the letter containing the accusation. or has it at his father's abode. after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo." "Then the guilty person is absolutely in custody?" said the marquise. this day arrived from Smyrna. but not finding me. "this letter." "Can I believe my ears?" cried the marquise. he sent for me." "How dreadful!" exclaimed Renee. has been the bearer of a letter from Murat to the usurper. not even that of my betrothal. however. opened his letters. mate of the ship Pharaon. after all. at least. is but an anonymous scrawl. took upon himself to give the necessary orders for arresting the accused party. thinking this one of importance. "that I were a doctor instead of a lawyer." "True. with an air of deep interest." said Renee. I at least resemble the disciples of Esculapius in one thing — that of not being able to call a day my own. lit up as they then were with more than usual fire and animation. who either carries the letter for Paris about with him. that one named Edmond Dantes. by his orders. returned.and quitted the room upon the plea of urgent business. his secretary. and again taken charge of another letter from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris." "And wherefore were you called away just now?" asked Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. a sort of Bonaparte conspiracy has just been discovered. his whole face beaming with delight. 57 . "For a very serious matter.'" "But. and certainly his handsome features.

" "Come. "Never mind that foolish girl. Villefort. "He is at my house."Nay. and leaning over her chair said tenderly." "He is in safe custody. my friend. "and rely upon it. while imprinting a son-in-law's respectful salute on it. dear mother. 58 ." The young man passed round to the side of the table where the fair pleader sat. unless he goes forth under the especial protection of the headsman. madame. "Fear not. "be merciful on this the day of our betrothal." then casting an expressive glance at his betrothed. "Nay. come. "She will soon get over these things." "And where is the unfortunate being?" asked Renee. say the accused person." said the marquise. "do not neglect your duty to linger with us. "I must try and fancy 'tis your dear hand I kiss. I promise to show all the lenity in my power. you really must give me leave to order his head to be cut off. as it should have been. "your folly exceeds all bounds. clasping her hands. which seemed to say. You are the king's servant." interrupted the marquise. for your dear sake my justice shall be tempered with mercy. why." "O Villefort!" cried Renee. — "To give you pleasure. as much as to say. child!" exclaimed the angry marquise. You know we cannot yet pronounce him guilty. I pray you pardon this little traitor. if the letter is found." Renee shuddered. he will not be likely to be trusted abroad again. but if the charges brought against this Bonapartist hero prove correct." answered Villefort. my sweet Renee." and receiving a sweet and approving smile in return." sighed poor Renee. and looking towards her lover with piteous earnestness." So saying. then. looked at Renee." "These are mournful auspices to accompany a betrothal. I promise you that to make up for her want of loyalty. Villefort quitted the room. 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. "Upon my word. I will be most inflexibly severe. who. and must go wherever that service calls you. Madame de Saint-Meran extended her dry bony hand to Villefort.

and which might interfere. monsieur. At the door he met the commissary of police. he held a high official situation. all the papers found have been sealed up and placed on your desk. who was waiting for him. trading in cotton with Alexandria and Smyrna. not passionately. sir. unless he acted with the greatest prudence." 59 . though only twenty-seven. which they would. but reasonably. and belonging to Morrel & Son. with his own career. he had carefully studied before the glass. than he assumed the grave air of a man who holds the balance of life and death in his hands. which were very great. as became a deputy attorney of the king. as we have before described. The sight of this officer recalled Villefort from the third heaven to earth. exert in his favor. Already rich. and besides her personal attractions. No sooner had Villefort left the salon. besides. the command of which. Gerard de Villefort was as happy as a man could be. Except the recollection of the line of politics his father had adopted. of Marseilles. mate on board the three-master the Pharaon. He was about to marry a young and charming woman. and said. now inform me what you have discovered concerning him and the conspiracy. The prisoner himself is named Edmond Dantes. and you have acted rightly in arresting this man. "I have read the letter. These considerations naturally gave Villefort a feeling of such complete felicity that his mind was fairly dazzled in its contemplation. the prospect of seeing her fortune increased to half a million at her father's death.Chapter 7 The Examination. in spite of the mobility of his countenance. whom he loved. he composed his face. and he had. The dowry of his wife amounted to fifty thousand crowns. it was by no means easy for him to assume an air of judicial severity. Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran's family possessed considerable political influence. like a finished actor." "We know nothing as yet of the conspiracy. Now. of course.

" replied Villefort. who seemed to have been waiting for him. Morrel." "I know it. monsieur. there is not a better seaman in all the merchant service. monsieur. and that if he be innocent you shall not have appealed 60 ." This give us sounded revolutionary in the deputy's ears. de Villefort. for his own conscience was not quite clear on politics. de Villefort. "and I am now going to examine him. I beseech your indulgence for him. however. while his eyes seemed to plunge into the heart of one who. kind and equitable. and yet be. He replied. "I am delighted to see you. — "I entreat you. he is very young. Is it not true?" The magistrate laid emphasis on these words. Villefort looked disdainfully at Morrel." cried he. had himself need of indulgence. "is Dantes then a member of some Carbonari society. that a man may be estimable and trustworthy in private life. a great criminal. as you always are."Before he entered the merchant service." At this moment. the first was a royalist. and give him back to us soon. what Dantes had told him of his interview with the grand-marshal. as if he wished to apply them to the owner himself." said Morrel. de Villefort." murmured he. M. it was M. a man. "you do not know him. if I recollect. "Ah. the most trustworthy creature in the world. Some of your people have committed the strangest mistake — they have just arrested Edmond Dantes. belonged to the aristocratic party at Marseilles. politically speaking. "Ah. and as Villefort had arrived at the corner of the Rue des Conseils. embarrassed him. He is the most estimable. and what the emperor had said to him. mate of my vessel. and I will venture to say. that his protector thus employs the collective form? He was. M." "How old?" "Nineteen or twenty at the most." Villefort. monsieur. you may rest assured I shall perform my duty impartially." "Oh. had he ever served in the marines?" "Oh. ah. carried away by his friendship. — "You are aware. Oh. Morrel to the plebeian. be. in company with a great many others." Then he added. "Monsieur. besides. no. M. as we have seen. approached. arrested in a tavern. Morrel reddened. and the best seaman in the merchant service. and replied. interceding for another. the other suspected of Bonapartism. and I do.

"My name is Edmond Dantes. containing information relative to the prisoner. thanks to the corrupt espionage of which "the accused" is always made the victim. as if petrified." returned Dantes. and sat down. however. impunity would furnish a dangerous example." As he had now arrived at the door of his own house. Morrel's salon. already. looked round for a seat. An instant after Dantes entered. while seeming to read the thoughts of others. He me in vain. Morrel & Son. in this present epoch. belonging to Messrs. in an hour's time. 61 ." said the young man. that a police agent had given to him on his entry. had swelled to voluminous proportions. be guilty. his voice slightly tremulous. the feelings of compassion that were rising. but calm and collected. on the spot where Villefort had left him. — that look peculiar to the magistrate. betrays nothing of his own. coldly saluted the shipowner. and frankness in the thick lips that showed a set of pearly teeth. as if he had been in M. so great was the contrast between the sombre aspect of M. it had served to give him an idea of the man he was about to interrogate. "What were you doing at the moment you were arrested?" "I was at the festival of my marriage. "Nineteen. he entered. forgetting the difference between the two words. disappeared. It was then that he encountered for the first time Villefort's look. after having. at his desk." "Your age?" continued Villefort." Rapid as had been Villefort's glance. composed his features. "I am mate of the Pharaon. grim and sombre. saying. which adjoined the Palais de Justice. Villefort traversed the ante-chamber. The ante-chamber was full of police agents and gendarmes. and saluting his judge with easy politeness. stood the prisoner. "Who and what are you?" demanded Villefort. that he applied the maxim to the impression. carefully watched. He was pale. Villefort's first impression was favorable. "Bring in the prisoner. in the midst of whom. He had recognized intelligence in the high forehead. who stood. turning over a pile of papers. monsieur. and taking a packet which a gendarme offered him. therefore. but he had been so often warned to mistrust first impulses. but calm and smiling. so great was the contrast between that happy moment and the painful ceremony he was now undergoing. and I must do my duty. cast a side glance at Dantes. should he." replied the young man calmly. and that. de Villefort and the radiant face of Mercedes. who. courage in the dark eye and bent brow.

Morrel. and because happiness renders even the wicked good — extended his affection even to his judge. With the deputy's knowledge of crime and criminals." said Villefort. — simple. I am on the point of marrying a young girl I have been attached to for three years. "Yes. spite of Villefort's severe look and stern accent." "It is reported your political opinions are extreme. monsieur. struck a sympathetic chord in his own bosom — he also was on the point of being married. Dantes seemed full of kindness." "Tell me on which point you desire information. full of affection for everybody. only. This lad. I have no part to play. "I warn you I know very little. "Go on. "Pardieu. without knowing who the culprit was." added he. and recollected the words of Renee. I never had any opinions. natural. sir. "This philosophic reflection. every word the young man uttered convinced him more and more of his innocence. as if it were an accusation. If I obtain the situation I desire. When this speech was arranged."You were at the festival of your marriage?" said the deputy. — I love my father. for he was scarcely a man." and he arranged mentally. "Alas. This." thought he. I hope I shall gain Renee's favor easily by obeying the first command she ever imposed on 62 . had besought his indulgence for him. and I will tell all I know." said he." said Villefort. who had never heard anything of the kind. I am hardly nineteen. because he was happy. and the tremulous voice of Dantes." As Dantes spoke. is all I can tell you. shuddering in spite of himself. I know nothing. de SaintMeran's. "he is a noble fellow. but private — are confined to these three sentiment. I respect M. Thus all my opinions — I will not say public. sir. "will make a great sensation at M. while Dantes awaited further questions. who. Villefort turned to Dantes. but was not sorry to make this inquiry. and I adore Mercedes." Villefort. and you see how uninteresting it is. was struck with this coincidence. Morrel. sir. with a smile. "What would you have me say?" "Give all the information in your power. the antithesis by which orators often create a reputation for eloquence. and he was summoned from his own happiness to destroy that of another. I shall owe it to M. eloquent with that eloquence of the heart never found when sought for." "Have you served under the usurper?" "I was about to be mustered into the Royal Marines when he fell. Villefort gazed at his ingenuous and open countenance. "My political opinions!" replied Dantes. surprised in the midst of his happiness. impassive as he was.

not as a father. You are about to become captain at nineteen — an elevated post. for this envious person is a real enemy. because then I should be forced to hate them. I am very fortunate. Then. you are about to marry a pretty girl. "If Renee could see me. Villefort saw how much energy lay hid beneath this mildness. You seem a worthy young man. 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. but as an elder brother. I have had ten or twelve sailors under me." added he. monsieur. I shall have at least a pressure of the hand in public. "to be examined by such a man as you." "But you may have excited jealousy." "You are wrong. I will depart from the strict line of my duty to aid you in discovering the author of this accusation. do you know the writing?" As he spoke. I confess. Villefort's face became so joyous. "None at all." said Villefort. A cloud passed over his brow as he said." 63 .me. but as one man to another who takes an interest in him. at least. that you know. for I am too young. and presented it to Dantes. they will tell you that they love and respect me. Here is the paper." Full of this idea." And by the rapid glance that the young man's eyes shot forth. that when he turned to Dantes. was smiling also. but if such persons are among my acquaintances I prefer not to know it. Dantes read it. I swear by my honor as a sailor. and these two pieces of good fortune may have excited the envy of some one." "You are right. you should always strive to see clearly around you. I do not know the writing." "I have enemies?" replied Dantes. by the life of my father" — "Speak." said Villefort. "answer me frankly. that is. "have you any enemies. I will tell you the real facts. and yet it is tolerably plain. looking gratefully at Villefort." said the deputy. and a sweet kiss in private. As for my disposition. Villefort drew the letter from his pocket. but I have striven to repress it. and what you say may possibly be the case. somewhat too hasty. internally. monsieur. I hope she would be satisfied. you know men better than I do. "Now. the latter. Whoever did it writes well. who had watched the change on his physiognomy. "my position is not sufficiently elevated for that. and if you question them. and would no longer call me a decapitator. who loves you. perhaps. "Sir. by my love for Mercedes. not as a prisoner to a judge. — "No.

Morrel. for it is a matter of the deepest importance. his disorder rose to such a height. captain.' "`I swear. and what every one would have done in my place. I sailed for the Island of Elba.' said the captain. Give up this letter you have brought from Elba. You will accomplish what I was to have done.' "`I will do it. captain. assume the command. as the latter had told me. it was imprudence. `My dear Dantes. at my marriage-feast. I ordered everybody to remain on board. feeling he was dying. Everywhere the last requests of a dying man are sacred. He questioned me concerning Captain Leclere's death. and. and I should have been married in an hour. but I sent the ring I had received from the captain to him. as I told you. all the forms were got over. that at the end of the third day." said Villefort. "this seems to me the truth.' said he. and go and rejoin your friends. Thanks to M. in a word I was. 64 . and bear up for the Island of Elba. had I not been arrested on this charge which you as well as I now see to be unjust. and went on shore alone. and was instantly admitted." "And what did you do then?" "What I ought to have done. and charge you with a commission.' replied I. the next day he died. give him this letter — perhaps they will give you another letter. I landed here. he called me to him. Captain Leclere was attacked with a brain fever." "Ah. `swear to perform what I am going to tell you. but with a sailor the last requests of his superior are commands. As I had expected. If you have been culpable. and derive all the honor and profit from it. and remove every difficulty. regulated the affairs of the vessel. but perhaps I shall not be admitted to the grand marshal's presence as easily as you expect?' "`Here is a ring that will obtain audience of him. as after my death the command devolves on you as mate. and he was so anxious to arrive at Elba. As we had no doctor on board. ask for the grand-marshal."Well. whom I found more lovely than ever. that he would not touch at any other port. At these words he gave me a ring. when we quitted Naples. and to-morrow I intended to start for Paris. It was time — two hours after he was delirious. and hastened to visit my affianced bride. and this imprudence was in obedience to the orders of your captain. and pass your word you will appear should you be required. I undertook it because it was what my captain had bade me do. gave me a letter to carry on to a person in Paris. disembark at Porto-Ferrajo. I found some difficulty in obtaining access to the grand-marshal. where I arrived the next day. "`Well.

" said the deputy." "Have you shown this letter to any one?" asked Villefort. and not you. "I was forced to read the address to know to whom to give it. growing still paler. Villefort's brow darkened more and more. "I have. and addressed to M. then?" asked Dantes. Noirtier?" "Everybody. "To whom is it addressed?" "To Monsieur Noirtier. but first give me this letter. "a faithful servant of the king does not know conspirators. rising hastily. "Yes." "And that was too much. his white lips and clinched teeth filled Dantes with apprehension." "Everybody is ignorant that you are the bearer of a letter from the Island of Elba. "do you know him?" "No. I was entirely ignorant of the contents of the letter. then. but raised his head at the expiration of a few seconds. Villefort covered his face with his hands." Had a thunderbolt fallen into the room. for it was taken from me with some others which I see in that packet."I am free. except the person who gave it to me. as Dantes took his hat and gloves. "stay where you are. on my honor. Noirtier. sir. now began to feel a tenfold alarm. however." "It is a conspiracy. "And you say that you are ignorant of the contents of this letter?" "I give you my word of honor. No." "You have it already. He sank into his seat. "Oh. Paris." said Dantes. "Yes." "Yes. "but what is the matter? You are ill — shall I ring for assistance? — shall I call?" "No. Villefort could not have been more stupefied." replied Villefort. already told you. and hastily turning over the packet. drew forth the fatal letter. "To no one. sir?" cried Dantes joyfully. and again perused the letter." said Villefort. sir. who after believing himself free." said Dantes." murmured Villefort. Rue Coq-Heron. Rue Coq-Heron." murmured he." "Stop a moment. becoming still more pale. After reading the letter. "what is the matter?" Villefort made no answer. at which he glanced with an expression of terror. far too much. 13. "M. but you knew the name of the person to whom it was addressed." said Villefort." said Dantes timidly." 65 . It is for me to give orders here.

" "Listen. "you can now have confidence in me after what I have done. I must detain you some time longer. read the letter." exclaimed Dantes. expecting a question. and waited until it was entirely consumed. should you. moist with perspiration. you and I alone know of its existence." "Listen." continued he. and you are saved. "if you doubt me. if he knows the contents of this!" murmured he. for the third time. "I am no longer able. I destroy it?" "Oh. and I will follow your advice. it was a temporary indisposition. deny all knowledge of it — deny it boldly. but in vain. it is impossible to doubt it. "You see. "it was only to summon assistance for you. — "Sir. "and that Noirtier is the father of Villefort. this is not a command." "Be satisfied."Monsieur. answer me. I will answer you." "Oh." "Oh. but do not breathe a word of this letter." "I promise. and." Villefort made a violent effort." cried Dantes. as I had hoped." Dantes waited. I am lost!" And he fixed his eyes upon Edmond as if he would have penetrated his thoughts. before doing so. The principal charge against you is this letter." said he. but I will strive to make it as short as possible. and you see" — Villefort approached the fire. "the letter is destroyed. and in a tone he strove to render firm." "I shall detain you until this evening in the Palais de Justice. where fragments of burnt paper fluttered in the flames. "Oh." cried he. and the prisoner who reassured him. but advice I give you. therefore. suddenly. "You see. Villefort fell back on his chair. say to him what you have said to me. and I will obey. cast it in. "you are goodness itself." "It was the only letter you had?" 66 . Should any one else interrogate you. "In heaven's name!" cried the unhappy young man." "Well. be questioned." replied Dantes proudly. Attend to yourself." continued Villefort. I must consult the trial justice. command." "I want none. passed his hand over his brow. to restore you immediately to liberty. monsieur. I will deny it. glancing toward the grate. what my own feeling is you already know. "Oh." It was Villefort who seemed to entreat. "you have been rather a friend than a judge." "Speak. question me.

alas. "Follow him." murmured he. "Alas. Oh. "and from this letter. a smile played round his set mouth."It was." "Swear it. I will make my fortune." said Villefort to Dantes. Villefort whispered some words in his ear." Villefort rang. A police agent entered. "This will do. "if the procureur himself had been at Marseilles I should have been ruined. my father. must your past career always interfere with my successes?" Suddenly a light passed over his face. Dantes saluted Villefort and retired. to which the officer replied by a motion of his head. 67 . Hardly had the door closed when Villefort threw himself halffainting into a chair. which might have ruined me." And after having assured himself that the prisoner was gone." "I swear it." said he. and his haggard eyes were fixed in thought. This accursed letter would have destroyed all my hopes. Now to the work I have in hand. the deputy procureur hastened to the house of his betrothed.

He had advanced at first. every blow seeming to Dantes as if struck on his heart. the massy oaken door flew open. who placed themselves one on Dantes' right and the other on his left. and just as Dantes began to despair. and its appearance. It was four o'clock when Dantes was placed in this chamber. that from its grated windows looks on the clock-tower of the Accoules. but grated and barred. The obscurity augmented the acuteness of his hearing. "By the orders of the deputy procureur?" 68 . A door that communicated with the Palais de Justice was opened. After numberless windings. steps were heard in the corridor. the bolts creaked. who seemed to interest himself so much.Chapter 8 The Chateau D'If. convinced they were about to liberate him. whose appearance might have made even the boldest shudder. but stopped at the sight of this display of force. By the torchlight Dantes saw the glittering sabres and carbines of four gendarmes. He was conducted to a tolerably neat chamber. at the slightest sound he rose and hastened to the door. did not greatly alarm him. the words of Villefort. The commissary of police. "Are you come to fetch me?" asked he. The door opened. — a sombre edifice. It was. about ten o'clock. but the sound died away. a key turned in the lock. — he was in prison. but thick and mephitic. therefore. The commissary took up an iron mallet and knocked thrice." replied a gendarme. "Yes. and Dantes sank again into his seat. The air he inhaled was no longer pure. At last. and they went through a long range of gloomy corridors. the 1st of March. The Palais de Justice communicated with the prison. made a sign to two gendarmes. Dantes saw a door with an iron wicket. as he traversed the ante-chamber. and the prisoner was soon buried in darkness. besides. resounded still in his ears like a promise of freedom. and the door closed with a loud sound behind him. the two gendarmes gently pushed him forward. as we have said. and a flood of light from two torches pervaded the apartment.

"Can all this force be summoned on my account?" thought he. In an instant he was placed in the stern-sheets of the boat. The prisoner's first feeling was of joy at again breathing the pure air — for air is freedom. and having neither the power nor the intention to resist. and. The two gendarmes who were opposite to him descended first. and four sturdy oarsmen impelled it rapidly towards the Pilon. approached the guardhouse. and was in an instant seated inside between two gendarmes. then he was ordered to alight and the gendarmes on each side of him followed his example. The prisoner glanced at the windows — they were grated. Through the grating. "Is this carriage for me?" said Dantes. Dantes saw they were passing through the Rue Caisserie. The officer opened the door. and now through the open windows came the laughter and revelry of a ball. 69 . answered Dantes' question. and a police officer sat beside him."I believe so. which was locked. but he soon sighed. A carriage waited at the door. to the port. he advanced calmly. where he had that morning been so happy. Soon he saw the lights of La Consigne. the officer descended. but feeling himself urged forward. a dozen soldiers came out and formed themselves in order. Dantes folded his hands. and the carriage rolled heavily over the stones. Dantes was about to speak. the two others took their places opposite. de Villefort relieved all Dantes' apprehensions. as Dantes knew. They advanced towards a boat. raised his eyes to heaven. between the gendarmes. however. while the officer stationed himself at the bow. The soldiers looked at Dantes with an air of stupid curiosity. the chain that closes the mouth of the port was lowered and in a second they were. and by the Rue Saint-Laurent and the Rue Taramis. The carriage stopped. near the quay. without speaking a word. "It is for you. in the Frioul and outside the inner harbor. Dantes saw the reflection of their muskets by the light of the lamps on the quay. for he saw between the ranks of the soldiers a passage formed from the carriage to the port." The conviction that they came from M. and placed himself in the centre of the escort. and prayed fervently. for he passed before La Reserve. a shove sent the boat adrift. he had changed his prison for another that was conveying him he knew not whither." replied a gendarme. which a custom-house officer held by a chain. the coachman was on the box. he mounted the steps. At a shout from the boat.

Mercedes was the only one awake in the whole settlement. perhaps. striving to pierce through the darkness. and so he remained silent. on the right.The boat continued her voyage. had not the deputy. 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. This manoeuvre was incomprehensible to Dantes. An intervening elevation of land hid the light. they were going to leave him on some distant point. While he had been absorbed in thought. he had nothing to apprehend? Had not Villefort in his presence destroyed the fatal letter. Dantes turned to the nearest gendarme. "Whither are you taking me?" asked he. and were now opposite the Point des Catalans. and about to double the battery. trained in discipline. to tell me where we are going. told him that provided he did not pronounce the dreaded name of Noirtier. and taking his hand. for it was there Mercedes dwelt. his eyes fixed upon the light. nor had they made any attempt to handcuff him. They had left the Ile Ratonneau. A loud cry could be heard by her. "You will soon know. he thought. tell me where you are conducting me. and Dantes saw that it came from Mercedes' chamber. Besides. They had passed the Tete de Morte. were now off the Anse du Pharo. and I promise you on my honor I will submit to my fate. knew that nothing would be more absurd than to question subordinates. but the prisoner thought only of Mercedes. who were forbidden to reply. they had shipped their oars and hoisted sail. the only proof against him? He waited silently. where the lighthouse stood. Dantes turned and perceived that they had got out to sea." 70 . He was not bound. "I adjure you. there was no vessel at anchor outside the harbor. The boat they were in could not make a long voyage. thought accused of treason. But pride restrained him and he did not utter it. The most vague and wild thoughts passed through his mind." Dantes. a loyal Frenchman. I am Captain Dantes. who had been so kind to him. the boat was now moving with the wind." "But still" — "We are forbidden to give you any explanation. In spite of his repugnance to address the guards. as a Christian and a soldier. the boat went on. — "Comrade. It seemed to the prisoner that he could distinguish a feminine form on the beach." said he. What would his guards think if they heard him shout like a madman? He remained silent. this seemed a good augury.

" "Unless you are blind. "what are we going there for?" The gendarme smiled. in spite of M. or you will make me think you are laughing at me in return for my good nature. without any formality?" "All the formalities have been gone through. "that I am taken to the Chateau d'If to be imprisoned there?" "It is probable. who returned for answer a sign that said." said Dantes.The gendarme looked irresolutely at his companion." "Without any inquiry." and the gendarme replied." "And so. even if I intended. "You think. come. do not look so astonished. seemed to Dantes like a scaffold to a malefactor." "I do not." said he. and yet you do not know where you are going?" "On my honor. turnkeys." "Look round you then. a garrison. I entreat." "That is impossible. and good thick walls. but there is no occasion to squeeze so hard. This gloomy fortress." "But my orders. in half an hour. and a sailor." "I swear to you it is true. "it is only used for political prisoners." "Your orders do not forbid your telling me what I must know in ten minutes. "I am not going there to be imprisoned. "I see no great harm in telling him now. Tell me. Are there any magistrates or judges at the Chateau d'If?" "There are only. you must know. the inquiry is already made. when he saw rise within a hundred yards of him the black and frowning rock on which stands the Chateau d'If. then." Dantes rose and looked forward. which has for more than three hundred years furnished food for so many wild legends. I have no idea. de Villefort's promises?" 71 . You see I cannot escape. or an hour. Come. "a governor." "Have you no idea whatever?" "None at all. or have never been outside the harbor." said the gendarme. I have committed no crime. "The Chateau d'If?" cried he. — "You are a native of Marseilles." Dantes pressed the gendarme's hand as though he would crush it.

comrades. during which he strove to collect his thoughts. he was in a court surrounded by high walls. which the gendarme's practiced eye had perceived. the gendarmes released him. but I will not disobey the second. But he bethought him of M. "believe softspoken gentlemen again! Harkye. 72 . The orders came. and Dantes guessed they were at the end of the voyage. I have disobeyed my first order. while the police officer carrying a musket with fixed bayonet followed behind. "but I know we are taking you to the Chateau d'If. He did not even see the ocean. taking him by the arms and coat-collar. but all this indistinctly as through a mist." said the gendarme. Certain Dantes could not escape. and as they passed before the light he saw the barrels of their muskets shine. help!" By a rapid movement. he heard the measured tread of sentinels. and dragged him towards the steps that lead to the gate of the fortress. placing his knee on his chest. He looked around. my friend. but four vigorous arms seized him as his feet quitted the bottom of the boat. They seemed awaiting orders." replied the gendarmes. de Villefort's promise. But what are you doing? Help. They halted for a minute. One of the sailors leaped on shore. For a moment the idea of struggling crossed his mind. he was conscious that he passed through a door. I will blow your brains out. that terrible barrier against freedom. a cord creaked as it ran through a pulley. and. and that they were mooring the boat. His guards. At this moment the boat came to a landing with a violent shock. They waited upwards of ten minutes. Dantes made no resistance. and that the door closed behind him. he was like a man in a dream: he saw soldiers drawn up on the embankment. death in a boat from the hand of a gendarme seemed too terrible. and if you move. "Good!" said the gendarme. who felt the muzzle against his temple. He remained motionless." And he levelled his carbine at Dantes. but gnashing his teeth and wringing his hands with fury. and of so ending the unexpected evil that had overtaken him. de Villefort promised you. he knew vaguely that he was ascending a flight of steps. "Where is the prisoner?" said a voice. "Here. Dantes sprang forward to precipitate himself into the sea. besides. He fell back cursing with rage."I do not know what M. which the prisoners look upon with utter despair. forced him to rise.

and showed Dantes the features of his conductor. as if fixed there." 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. taking with him the lamp and closing the door. Dantes appeared not to perceive him. his eyes swollen with weeping. All his emotion then burst forth. "Are you hungry?" continued he. The prisoner followed his guide. Dantes followed him with his eyes. "Have you not slept?" said the jailer. leaving stamped upon the prisoner's mind the dim reflection of the dripping walls of his dungeon. Edmond started. he cast himself on the ground. water. but walked round and round the cell like a wild beast in its cage. With the first dawn of day the jailer returned. "It is late. a lamp placed on a stool illumined the apartment faintly. with orders to leave Dantes where he was. for which he was famous." "Go!" said the gendarmes. In the meantime there is bread. He touched him on the shoulder. One thought in particular tormented him: namely. 73 . and stretched forth his hands towards the open door. "Here is your chamber for to-night. the jailer disappeared. thrusting Dantes forward. and. and the governor is asleep." replied Dantes. and asking himself what crime he had committed that he was thus punished. concealed himself until the arrival of a Genoese or Spanish vessel. that during his journey hither he had sat so still. but the door closed. whose bare and reeking walls seemed as though impregnated with tears. "I do not know. To-morrow." The jailer shrugged his shoulders and left the chamber. and of sullen appearance. he may change you. weeping bitterly. and fresh straw. perhaps. who led him into a room almost under ground. and that is all a prisoner can wish for. He found the prisoner in the same position. thanks to his powers of swimming. he scarcely tasted food. The jailer advanced. He had passed the night standing. Goodnight. I will take him to his cell." said he. a dozen times. have gained the shore. "I do not know. whereas he might. have plunged into the sea. ill-clothed. The day passed thus."Let him follow me. and without sleep." "Do you wish for anything?" "I wish to see the governor. The jailer stared. an under-jailer. Dantes was alone in darkness and in silence — cold as the shadows that he felt breathe on his burning forehead.

then?" "Better fare." said Edmond." "You think so?" "Yes. or you will be mad in a fortnight. and all this because he had trusted to Villefort's promise. then." asked Dantes. I shall die of hunger — that is all. the jailer came again. He had no fears as to how he should live — good seamen are welcome everywhere. "Well. cheer up. but if you are very well behaved you will be allowed to walk about. who was in this chamber before you." said the jailer. a month — six months — a year. The next morning at the same hour." "What is allowed. he would have been free." "I have already told you it was impossible." "Ah. but I wish to see the governor. ignorant of the future destiny of his father and Mercedes." 74 . "how long shall I have to wait?" "Ah." said the jailer. that is his affair. "are you more reasonable to-day?" Dantes made no reply. if you pay for it. and prisoners must not even ask for it. and Dantes threw himself furiously down on his straw." "Well." The jailer saw by his tone he would be happy to die. books." "If you worry me by repeating the same thing. and leave to walk about. and do not care to walk about. "Come. where Mercedes and his father could have joined him. and some day you will meet the governor." "I do not want books. whereas he was now confined in the Chateau d'If. and as every prisoner is worth ten sous a day to his jailer.escaped to Spain or Italy. that impregnable fortress. I wish to see him at once. and Spanish like a Castilian." "It is too long a time. is there anything that I can do for you?" "I wish to see the governor. I will not bring you any more to eat. "What you ask is impossible." "Why so?" "Because it is against prison rules. and happy with Mercedes and his father. He spoke Italian like a Tuscan." "But. I am satisfied with my food. "if you do not. we have an instance here. he replied in a more subdued tone. "do not always brood over what is impossible. and if he chooses to reply. it was by always offering a million of francs to the governor for his liberty that an abbe became mad. The thought was maddening.

"By the governor's orders. "you are certainly going mad. I will send word to the governor. retreating and putting himself on the defensive. I am not. mad enough to tie up." "Was he liberated. unfortunately." The soldiers seized Dantes. he then sat down in the corner until his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. and he was thrust in. who followed passively. and give her two lines from me. but at present." said the jailer. I will make you another offer." "Well. but I will give you a hundred crowns if. I am not mad. because I have it not." Dantes whirled the stool round his head. then?" "No." said the corporal." "Listen!" said Dantes. "mark this. then. and were detected. The jailer was right." "To the dungeon. since you will have it so. dropping the stool and sitting on it as if he were in reality mad. The door closed." said he. 75 . 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." "Threats!" cried the jailer. fortunately. perhaps I shall be. the first time you go to Marseilles. "I am not an abbe." "If I took them. we must put the madman with the madmen. and in three days you will be like him. all right." "Very well. and when you enter I will dash out your brains with this stool. if you refuse at least to tell Mercedes I am here. I should lose my place. and the door of a dungeon was opened."How long has he left it?" "Two years. but. "All right." "What is that?" "I do not offer you a million. he was put in a dungeon. at the Catalans. "conduct the prisoner to the tier beneath. there are dungeons here. and returned in an instant with a corporal and four soldiers." said Dantes." returned Dantes. "Yes. which is worth two thousand francs a year. Dantes wanted but little of being utterly mad. "all right. and Dantes advanced with outstretched hands until he touched the wall. you will seek out a young girl named Mercedes. The abbe began like you. The jailer went out. He descended fifteen steps.

what is the matter?" said one. as soon as they were by themselves. and they left the salon. "Has the Corsican ogre broken loose?" cried a third. then?" asked the marquis. Villefort had." "Are we threatened with a fresh Reign of Terror?" asked another. "I must!" "Where." The guests looked at each other. "judge for yourself if it be not important. "Well. and on entering the house found that the guests whom he had left at table were taking coffee in the salon. Guardian of the State. with all the rest of the company." returned Villefort. "I request your pardon for thus leaving you. "You wish to speak to me alone?" said the marquis. let us go to the library. Decapitator." "You are going to leave us?" cried Renee. "That." The marquis took his arm.Chapter 9 The Evening of the Betrothal." said Villefort. please. "Speak out." added he. then. so. Brutus. it is really a serious matter. Will the marquis honor me by a few moments' private conversation?" "Ah. and will with pleasure undertake them. turning to Renee. "Well. "Marquise. hastened back to Madame de SaintMeran's in the Place du Grand Cours. "So serious that I must take leave of you for a few days. remarking the cloud on Villefort's brow. Royalist. is an official secret." asked he. but if you have any commissions for Paris. Renee was. as we have said. "tell me what it is?" 76 . are you going?" asked the marquise. approaching his future mother-in-law. anxiously awaiting him. madame. unable to hide her emotion at this unexpected announcement. and his entrance was followed by a general exclamation. "Yes. a friend of mine is going there to-night. "Alas.

ordering him to sell out at the market price. that demands my immediate presence in Paris. then!" And. but there is no occasion to divide the honors of my discovery with him. marquis. and tell him to sell out without an instant's delay. my fortune is made if I only reach the Tuileries the first. for the king will not forget the service I do him." 77 . The keeper would leave me in the background." said Villefort." "But how can I sell out here?" "You have a broker. I will call Salvieux and make him write the letter." "Tell your coachman to stop at the door. have you not?" "Yes. excuse the indiscretion. whom I leave on such a day with great regret. sitting down." "Then sell out — sell out. marquis. but ask M." "The deuce you say!" replied the marquis. "I must have another!" "To whom?" "To the king. de Salvieux to do so. seven or eight hundred thousand francs. Now. and can procure you audience at any hour of the day or night. but have you any landed property?" "All my fortune is in the funds. and take all the glory to himself." "In that case go and get ready." "Doubtless." "I dare not write to his majesty."An affair of the greatest importance. or you will lose it all." "Be as quick as possible." "To the king?" "Yes. he wrote a letter to his broker. I must be on the road in a quarter of an hour. then. he has the right of entry at the Tuileries." "But address yourself to the keeper of the seals. I tell you. marquis. perhaps even now I shall arrive too late. "Now." "I do not ask you to write to his majesty." "You will present my excuses to the marquise and Mademoiselle Renee. placing the letter in his pocketbook. I want a letter that will enable me to reach the king's presence without all the formalities of demanding an audience. "let us lose no time. that would occasion a loss of precious time." "Then give me a letter to him.

hearing no news of her lover." "Now. furious and terrible." Mercedes burst into tears. it seemed to him that she was the judge. a servant entered. "The young man you speak of. Dantes had spoken of Mercedes. "But. And desirous of putting an end to the interview. The man he sacrificed to his ambition. he carried the arrow in his wound. tell me where he is. and. but that slow and consuming agony whose pangs are intensified from hour to hour up to the very moment of death. he pushed by her. and he the accused. At his door he perceived a figure in the shadow that seemed to wait for him. she advanced and stood before him. had come unobserved to inquire after him. at least. and when she inquired what had become of her lover. and bringing with him remorse. and owing to his irresistible eloquence they had been condemned. that innocent victim immolated on the altar of his father's faults. then. and closed the door. again addressed him. and. and can make your farewells in person. It was Mercedes. like Virgil's wounded hero." "A thousand thanks — and now for the letter. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him. "I do not know." said she. and Villefort instantly recognized her. As Villefort drew near. he resumed his ordinary pace. Villefort uttered a sigh that was almost a sob. Then the first pangs of an unending torture seized upon his heart. "Say to the Comte de Salvieux that I would like to see him. Then he had a moment's hesitation. mademoiselle. as if to exclude the pain he felt." replied Villefort. appeared to him pale and threatening. and yet the slightest shadow of remorse had never clouded Villefort's brow. leading his affianced bride by the hand. but reflecting that the sight of the deputy procureur running through the streets would be enough to throw the whole city into confusion. at 78 . as Villefort strove to pass her. "is a great criminal. not such as the ancients figured."You will find them both here. that I may know whether he is alive or dead. he is no longer in my hands. and I can do nothing for him. He had frequently called for capital punishment on criminals. because they were guilty." said Villefort abruptly. go. But remorse is not thus banished. and sank into a chair. "I shall be gone only a few moments." The marquis rang." Villefort hastily quitted the apartment. who. arrived at the salon." said the marquis.

or rather sprang. Morrel had not readily given up the fight. and which had hitherto been unknown to him. and then. far from pleading for Dantes. emptied all the gold it contained into his pocket. She loved Villefort. or the fair Mercedes had entered and said. and had despairingly cast herself on her couch. and Renee. Villefort found the marquise and Renee in waiting. you are there. and he left her at the moment he was about to become her husband. The lamp went out for want of oil. muttered a few inarticulate sounds. but Villefort's was one of those that never close. but she knew not that it was day. and covered it with kisses that Mercedes did not even feel. He had learned that Dantes had been taken to prison. at length. Meanwhile what of Mercedes? She had met Fernand at the corner of the Rue de la Loge." said she. but she paid no heed to the darkness. his hand pressed to his head. hated the man whose crime separated her from her lover. arise in his bosom. and he had gone to all his friends. ordering the postilions to drive to M. Alas. or if they do. kneeling by her side. Villefort rose. she had returned to the Catalans. only close to reopen more agonizing than ever. She passed the night thus. and the door was opened only by Villefort's valet. and dawn came. from his chair. The hapless Dantes was doomed. Villefort knew not when he should return. If at this moment the sweet voice of Renee had sounded in his ears pleading for mercy. hastily opened one of the drawers of his desk. he sprang into the carriage. I conjure you to restore me my affianced husband. took her hand. M. He started when he saw Renee. perceiving that his servant had placed his cloak on his shoulders. and 79 . de Saint-Meran's. As the marquis had promised. and fill him with vague apprehensions. "I have not quitted you since yesterday. but the executioner." his cold and trembling hands would have signed his release. he believed so. he felt the sensation we have described. "Ah. but no voice broke the stillness of the chamber. but here was an innocent man whose happiness he had destroyed: in this case he was not the judge. for he fancied she was again about to plead for Dantes. It is thus that a wounded man trembles instinctively at the approach of the finger to his wound until it be healed. As he thus reflected. her emotions were wholly personal: she was thinking only of Villefort's departure. stood motionless an instant. "In the name of God." returned Fernand sorrowfully. turning towards Fernand. Grief had made her blind to all but one object — that was Edmond. who came to tell him that the travelling carriage was in readiness.least. Fernand.

he had shut himself up with two bottles of black currant brandy. to aid Dantes. especially when. like M. embraced Renee. while spectres danced in the light of the unsnuffed candle — spectres such as Hoffmann strews over his punch-drenched pages. The life of a man was to him of far less value than a numeral. declaring that the matter was serious and that nothing more could be done. 80 . Villefort. kissed the marquise's hand. But he did not succeed. Morrel. He went to bed at his usual hour. and an inkstand in place of a heart. like black. he could increase the sum total of his own desires. and had returned home in despair. but instead of seeking. Danglars alone was content and joyous — he had got rid of an enemy and made his own situation on the Pharaon secure. and as the most sanguine looked upon any attempt of Napoleon to remount the throne as impossible.the influential persons of the city. started for Paris along the Aix road. and became too intoxicated to fetch any more drink. With his elbows on the table he sat between the two empty bottles. but the report was already in circulation that Dantes was arrested as a Bonapartist agent. by taking it away. But we know very well what had become of Edmond. Old Dantes was dying with anxiety to know what had become of Edmond. Caderousse was equally restless and uneasy. he met with nothing but refusal. fantastic dust. and slept in peace. de Salvieux' letter. in the hope of drowning reflection. and shaken that of the marquis. Everything with him was multiplication or subtraction. Danglars was one of those men born with a pen behind the ear. after having received M. and yet not so intoxicated as to forget what had happened.

There.." continued M. my dear Blacas?" "Sire. "if it only be to reassure a faithful servant. and with a king as full of foresight as your majesty. and meanwhile making a marginal note in a volume of Gryphius's rather inaccurate. and Dauphine. sire.. the king." "Really. and now of Louis Philippe. on the contrary. aristocratic bearing. Louis XVIII. and passing through two or three apartments. "Sire. travelling — thanks to trebled fees — with all speed. Louis XVIII. scarcity is not a thing to be feared. will your majesty send into Languedoc.. We will leave Villefort on the road to Paris. with gray hair. so well known as having been the favorite closet of Napoleon and Louis XVIII. Provence. sir" — said the king. and to which. it is very fine weather in that direction. liked a pleasant jest. edition of Horace — a work which was much indebted to the sagacious observations of the philosophical monarch. but much sought-after. enter at the Tuileries the little room with the arched window." replied Louis XVIII. he was particularly attached." "Then of what other scourge are you afraid." Man of ability as he was. "You say.Chapter 10 The King's Closet at the Tuileries. "That I am exceedingly disquieted. I have every reason to believe that a storm is brewing in the south. seated before a walnut table he had brought with him from Hartwell. de Blacas. 81 ." "Well. sire. and know positively that. was carelessly listening to a man of fifty or fifty-two years of age. and exceedingly gentlemanly attire. my dear duke. "I think you are wrongly informed. for that would only betoken for us seven years of plenty and seven years of scarcity. from one of those fancies not uncommon to great people. have you had a vision of the seven fat kine and the seven lean kine?" "No.

" "By whom?" "By Bonaparte. another note on the margin of his Horace. with repressed smile. sire. sire. "Does your majesty wish me to drop the subject?" "By no means." "Which?" "Whichever you please — there to the left. prevent me from sleeping with your security.." continued Louis XVIII. "your majesty may be perfectly right in relying on the good feeling of France. and tell the duke all you know — the latest news of M." said Louis XVIII. while he is only commenting upon the idea of another. Dandre himself." "Sire. and so I hastened to you. but I fear I am not altogether wrong in dreading some desperate attempt. my dear duke. — "Go on. my dear duke." "Wait." replied the courtier." "My dear Blacas. You will find yesterday's report of the minister of police." said the king. who had for a moment the hope of sacrificing Villefort to his own profit. deserving all my confidence. and charged by me to watch over the south" (the duke hesitated as he pronounced these words). "come in.. at least. in order that he might seem to comprehend the quotation. Baron." said Blacas. sire?" "I tell you to the left. my dear sir. by his adherents. "Come in. — let us see. laughing. said. and then looking at the duke with the air of a man who thinks he has an idea of his own. but just stretch out your hand. do not conceal anything. or. who will bring you back a faithful report as to the feeling in these three provinces?" "Caninus surdis. "has arrived by post to tell me that a great peril threatens the king. still annotating." and M. de Bonaparte." "Here. "I am compelled to tell you that these are not mere rumors destitute of foundation which thus disquiet me. go on — I listen. "you with your alarms prevent me from working." There was a brief pause. entered. for I have such a delightful note on the Pastor quum traheret — wait. wait a moment." replied the king." "And you. Dandre." "Mala ducis avi domum. there.trusty men. the Island of Elba is 82 . "Sire. continuing the annotations in his Horace. during which Louis XVIII. I mean on my left — yes. in a hand as small as possible. however serious. wrote. but a seriousminded man. and I will listen to you afterwards. But here is M. and you are looking to the right. announced by the chamberlain-in-waiting.

what the report contains — give him the particulars of what the usurper is doing in his islet. Bonaparte" — M. Dandre looked at Louis XVIII. lest another should reap all the benefit of the disclosure. 83 . yes. "is mortally wearied. at other time he passes hours on the seashore. laughing. had yet communicated enough to cause him the greatest uneasiness. "Scratches himself?" inquired the duke. this hero." "Monsieur.." said Louis XVIII. indeed. who did not choose to reveal the whole secret." "And scratches himself for amusement. who cannot find anything. Now. to the usurper's conversion. flinging stones in the water and when the flint makes `duck-anddrake' five or six times. prurigo?" "And. let us proceed. the usurper will be insane. "Well. "we are almost assured that. did not even raise his head. you must agree that these are indubitable symptoms of insanity. well." said the baron to the duke. my dear duke. and we may expect to have issuing thence flaming and bristling war — bella." The minister of police bowed. who. Sometimes he weeps bitterly. horrida bella. he appears as delighted as if he had gained another Marengo or Austerlitz." continued the baron. my dear baron — or of wisdom." continued the minister of police. employed in writing a note. sometimes laughs boisterously. Dandre." M. "the greatest captains of antiquity amused themselves by casting pebbles into the ocean — see Plutarch's life of Scipio Africanus. and passes whole days in watching his miners at work at Porto-Longone. therefore. this demigod.a volcano. Villefort. de Blacas pondered deeply between the confident monarch and the truthful minister. moreover. his head becomes weaker. Dandre leaned very respectfully on the back of a chair with his two hands. "all the servants of his majesty must approve of the latest intelligence which we have from the Island of Elba. my dear duke. "what does your majesty mean?" "Yes.. is attacked with a malady of the skin which worries him to death. but tell the duke himself." said Louis XVIII." M. "Blacas is not yet convinced. — "Has your majesty perused yesterday's report?" "Yes." "Or of wisdom. Did you forget that this great man. and said. in a very short time.. "Bonaparte." "Insane?" "Raving mad." added the king.

sire." said Louis XVIII. have you any report more recent than this dated the 20th February. I will give you an eagle with outstretched wings. — this is the 4th of March?" "No.' These were his own words. 84 . "make one." said the minister. that is the usual way." replied the minister. and I will urge your majesty to do him this honor.." "Go thither. Tell him all about it. but I am hourly expecting one." "Well. Baron. wait. they trust to fortune. "Really. who spoke alternately.." "Why. and as two or three of his old veterans expressed a desire to return to France. de Blacas. it may have arrived since I left my office." "Well. coming from hosts of people who hope for some return for services which they seek to render. said Louis XVIII. sire. looking at the king and Dandre. Blacas. but you must not expect me to be too confiding. that the minister of police is greatly deceived or I am. is it not?" and the king laughed facetiously. my dear duke. baron. and rely upon some unexpected event in some way to justify their predictions. of that I am certain. if I might advise. "The usurper converted!" "Decidedly. de Blacas." "In what way converted?" "To good principles. M. "will go and find my messenger." "I will but go and return. like Virgil's shepherds." "Wait. 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. go"."The usurper's conversion!" murmured the duke. this is the way of it. he gave them their dismissal. I shall be back in ten minutes. under your auspices I will receive any person you please. your majesty will interrogate the person of whom I spoke to you. it is probable that I am in error." "Most willingly." "And I. and exhorted them to `serve the good king. sir. "we have no occasion to invent any. with the gravest air in the world: "Napoleon lately had a review. sire. I must change your armorial bearings. "and remember that I am waiting for you. and if there be none — well." continued Louis XVIII. but cannot. well. However. sir. sire. and pausing for a moment from the voluminous scholiast before him. duke. sire. sire. "I say. "Oh. what think you of this?" inquired the king triumphantly. every day our desks are loaded with most circumstantial denunciations." said M.

what do you think of the molli anhelitu?" "Admirable. biting his nails with impatience. and begs me to present him to your majesty." "M. "I wish to consult you on this passage. de Villefort?" "Yes." "No. "Sire." "Which is undergoing great fatigue and anxiety. but my messenger is like the stag you refer to." said De Blacas. ambitious. de Salvieux. sire. and." "Why did you not mention his name at once?" replied the king. "is the messenger's name M.holding in its claws a prey which tries in vain to escape." "And your majesty has employed the son of such a man?" 85 ." "Sire. you know his father's name!" "His father?" "Yes. pardieu. I listen. Blacas. you recompense but badly this poor young man. and bearing this device — Tenax." "Does he speak to you of this conspiracy?" "No. betraying some uneasiness." "And writes me thence. de Villefort." "Ah. my dear duke. Noirtier. de Salvieux. to give your majesty useful information. If only for the sake of M. when we have a telegraph which transmits messages in three or four hours.' you know it refers to a stag flying from a wolf. sire. I entreat your majesty to receive him graciously. no. and with so much ardor. then. and that without getting in the least out of breath. sire. too. de Villefort!" cried the king." "Noirtier the Girondin? — Noirtier the senator?" "He himself. my brother's chamberlain?" "Yes. sire. who recommends him to me. who has come so far. he is a man of strong and elevated understanding. `Molli fugiens anhelitu." "He is at Marseilles." "And he comes from Marseilles?" "In person. for he has posted two hundred and twenty leagues in scarcely three days. Are you not a sportsman and a great wolf-hunter? Well." "M. I thought his name was unknown to your majesty. but strongly recommends M.

who was all astonishment at finding that this young man had the audacity to enter before the king in such attire. I told you Villefort was ambitious. The king was seated in the same place where the duke had left him. de Villefort. waited until the king should interrogate him. that it is not irreparable. even his father. Louis XVIII. is the news as bad in your opinion as I am asked to believe?" "Sire. "Come in. and I believe your majesty will think it equally important. sire. which was not of courtly cut. I like order in everything. in my carriage. his really sincere royalism made him youthful again. the duke is right. and turning his eyes on his half-opened Horace. "M. and the young magistrate's first impulse was to pause. and advancing a few steps." "Sire."Blacas. de Blacas returned as speedily as he had departed. in spite of the protestations which the master of ceremonies made for the honor of his office and principles. I believe it to be most urgent." A glance at the king after this discreet and subtle 86 ." "Sire. "I will render a faithful report to your majesty." M. On opening the door. may I present him?" "This instant. M. sir." said Louis XVIII. Villefort was introduced. and before everything else." "I hasten to do so." Villefort bowed. The duke. remained alone. Villefort found himself facing him. who began to give way to the emotion which had showed itself in Blacas's face and affected Villefort's voice. but I must entreat your forgiveness if my anxiety leads to some obscurity in my language.. muttered. my friend. duke! Where is he?" "Waiting below. "Speak." said the king." said the king. and to attain this ambition Villefort would sacrifice everything. and. however. sir. Villefort's dusty garb." said Villefort." "Speak as fully as you please. but in the antechamber he was forced to appeal to the king's authority. de Breze. de Villefort." "Then. by the speed I have used. overcame all difficulties with a word — his majesty's order. — "Justum et tenacem propositi virum. sir." "In the first place." The duke left the royal presence with the speed of a young man. excited the susceptibility of M. "come in. "the Duc de Blacas assures me you have some interesting information to communicate. but I hope. and pray begin at the beginning. you have but limited comprehension. his costume." "Seek him at once.

terrible.. the usurper is arming three ships. a sailor. How did you obtain these details?" "Sire. sire. There he saw the grand-marshal. "and recently we have had information that the Bonapartist clubs have had meetings in the Rue SaintJacques. to inform your majesty that I have discovered. This person. and the assurance of my devotion. or on the coast of Tuscany." said Louis XVIII. in the exercise of my duties. smiling. yes. is yet. but assuredly to attempt a landing either at Naples." "Sire. I fear it is a conspiracy. or perhaps on the shores of France." "And the matter seems serious to you?" "So serious. that I might hasten to lay at your majesty's feet the fears which impressed me." "A conspiracy in these times. but let us talk of this plot. not a commonplace and insignificant plot. re-established so recently on the throne of our ancestors. much agitated. "is a thing very easy to meditate. But proceed. but this mission was to prepare men's minds for a return (it is the man who says this. but more difficult to conduct to an end. that when the circumstance surprised me in the midst of a family festival. but an actual conspiracy — a storm which menaces no less than your majesty's throne. however mad." said the king. whose name I could not extract from him. inasmuch as. they are the results of an examination which I have made of a man of Marseilles.. "was there not a marriage engagement between you and Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran?" "Daughter of one of your majesty's most faithful servants. and whom I suspected of Bonapartism. he meditates some project. I left my bride and friends. which. M. we have our 87 . assured Villefort of the benignity of his august auditor. Your majesty is well aware that the sovereign of the Island of Elba has maintained his relations with Italy and France?" "I am." "And where is this man?" "In prison. has been secretly to the Island of Elba. of turbulent character." "Yes. and he went on: — "Sire. on the very day of my betrothal. who charged him with an oral message to a Bonapartist in Paris. to go whither I know not. Sire. and arrested on the day of my departure. sire.exordium. I have come as rapidly to Paris as possible. whom I have watched for some time. perhaps. such as is every day got up in the lower ranks of the people and in the army." "True." said Louis XVIII. sir. sire) — a return which will soon occur. At this moment he will have left Elba. de Villefort. postponing everything. I fear it is more than a plot. I beg of you.

if he land in France.eyes open at once upon the past. he will be in an unfriendly territory. trembling. in order to watch the shore of the Mediterranean. If Bonaparte landed at Naples. Dandre!" cried de Blacas. pale. and as if ready to faint. restrained him. At this instant the minister of police appeared at the door. Villefort was about to retire. de Blacas. the present. the whole coalition would be on foot before he could even reach Piomoino. 88 . and the result of that is easily foretold. Take courage." "Ah. taking his hand. but at the same time rely on our royal gratitude. but M. here is M. For the last ten months my ministers have redoubled their vigilance. if he land in Tuscany. it must be with a handful of men. and the future. execrated as he is by the population. sir.

and M. — at a small port. sire. de Blacas has told me. and landed on the 1st of March. the usurper left Elba on the 26th February." said Louis XVIII. de Villefort has just confirmed?" M.Chapter 11 The Corsican Ogre. "In France. on the 1st of March. "I command you to speak. was about to throw himself at the feet of Louis XVIII. giving way to an impulse of despair." "And where? In Italy?" asked the king eagerly. Has your uneasiness anything to do with what M. two hundred and fifty leagues from Paris. in the Gulf of Juan. what a dreadful misfortune! I am." "Alas. "Oh. indeed. sire. the 4th of March! Well. baron?" he exclaimed. and then drew himself up as if this sudden blow had struck him at the same moment in heart and countenance. to be pitied. de Blacas moved suddenly towards the baron. The minister of police. pushed from him violently the table at which he was sitting." "Well. At the sight of this agitation Louis XVIII. I can never forgive myself!" "Monsieur. it is but too true!" Louis made a gesture of indescribable anger and alarm. and besides. "You appear quite aghast. sire. or you have gone mad. You must have received a false report. near Antibes. what is it?" asked Louis XVIII. as matters were. 89 . sire. "Well. sir. and you only acquired this information to-day. in the Gulf of Juan. what you tell me is impossible. who retreated a step and frowned. but the fright of the courtier pleaded for the forbearance of the statesman. it was much more to his advantage that the prefect of police should triumph over him than that he should humiliate the prefect. near Antibes." "The usurper landed in France. "Will you speak?" he said. "What ails you.. "Sire" — stammered the baron..

"And Dauphine." he said. The minister bowed his head. "Your pardon. he was silent."In France!" he cried. we have all been blind. you do not know! Have you neglected to obtain information on that point? Of course it is of no consequence. and it seems to me that if he ventured into the south." exclaimed the Duc de Blacas." "Advancing — he is advancing!" said Louis XVIII. now try and aid us with the remedy. sire." "Then. "the usurper is detested in the south." he exclaimed. "Is he then advancing on Paris?" The minister of police maintained a silence which was equivalent to a complete avowal. spared no pains to understand the 90 ." "But" — said Villefort. it would be easy to raise Languedoc and Provence against him. sir?" inquired the king. The mountaineers are Bonapartists. — "By the telegraph. "You alone forewarned us of the evil. of Villefort. "Do you think it possible to rouse that as well as Provence?" "Sire." "Yes. with a withering smile. bowing. and then suddenly checking himself. "So then." said Villefort. "M. but the feeling in Dauphine is quite the reverse of that in Provence or Languedoc. it was impossible to learn. sir. "my zeal carried me away. "What. then he continued. during those five-and-twenty years. I am sorry to tell your majesty a cruel fact. Dandre is not a man to be accused of treason! Sire." "Oh. Will your majesty deign to excuse me?" "Speak. A miracle of heaven replaced me on the throne of my fathers after five-and-twenty years of exile." — Louis XVIII. Who knows? they were. "but he is advancing by Gap and Sisteron. sire." replied Louis." murmured Louis." he added. sire. advanced a step. and folded his arms over his chest as Napoleon would have done. speak boldly." "And how did this despatch reach you?" inquired the king. in league with him. assuredly. sire. and the minister of police has shared the general blindness. sire. And how many men had he with him?" "I do not know. "Sire. "the usurper in France! Then they did not watch over this man. I have. the despatch simply stated the fact of the landing and the route taken by the usurper." answered the minister of police." "Sire. "he was well informed. "seven conjoined and allied armies overthrew that man. perhaps. that is all." replied the minister. turning pale with anger. and while a deep color overspread his cheeks. he stammered out.

Unfortunately. de Villefort. was listening to a conversation on which depended the destiny of a kingdom. for he felt his increased importance. Ridicule. and tell monsieur that it is possible to know beforehand all that he has not known. spies. it was really impossible to learn secrets which that man concealed from all the world. 91 . sir — why.." "Really impossible! Yes — that is a great word. and yet you ought to know it!" "Sire. however light a thing to destiny. agents. and shatters me to atoms!" "Sire. and who would have saved my crown. then. sire. addressing the young man. I would rather mount the scaffold of my brother. if. who at the first glance had sounded the abyss on which the monarchy hung suspended. — "to fall. and fifteen hundred thousand francs for secret service money. it is fatality!" murmured the minister. sir. than thus descend the staircase at the Tuileries driven away by ridicule. who learned more than you with all your police. — for my fortune is theirs — before me they were nothing — after me they will be nothing. sir. but to be in the midst of persons elevated by myself to places of honor. you know not its power in France. I would console myself. he had the power of directing a telegraph. like you. "Approach. as there are great men." "Sire. the power I hold in my hands bursts. you are right — it is fatality!" The minister quailed before this outburst of sarcasm." resumed the king. here is a gentleman who had none of these resources at his disposal — a gentleman. who. I have measured them. motionless and breathless. "for pity's" — "Approach. was too much for any human strength to endure. who bent his head in modest triumph. "To fall. "What our enemies say of us is then true.people of France and the interests which were confided to me. and perish miserably from incapacity — ineptitude! Oh. We have learnt nothing. forgotten nothing! If I were betrayed as he was. yes. Louis XVI. M. and learn of that fall by telegraph! Oh. Villefort smiled within himself. M." continued King Louis. to know what is going on at sixty leagues from the coast of France! Well. only a simple magistrate. who ought to watch over me more carefully than over themselves. when I see the fruition of my wishes almost within reach. there are great words. de Blacas wiped the moisture from his brow. and now. Really impossible for a minister who has an office. see. feeling that the pressure of circumstances." murmured the minister." The look of the minister of police was turned with concentrated spite on Villefort.

gentlemen." said Villefort. that your majesty may never have occasion to recall the first opinion you have been pleased to form of me. who. the minister. Blacas. "Your pardon. suddenly pausing. speaking of reports. "I have no further occasion for you. Yet. and Villefort understood that he had succeeded in his design. but my devotion to your majesty has made me forget. he had made a friend of one on whom. Any other person would. and I have profited by that chance. he might rely." said M. in case of necessity. had been unable to unearth Napoleon's secret. instead of aiding to crush him. although he saw that Dandre was irrevocably lost. that without forfeiting the gratitude of the king. de Blacas. have been overcome by such an intoxicating draught of praise." he continued. might in despair at his own downfall interrogate Dantes and so lay bare the motives of Villefort's plot." The minister of police thanked the young man by an eloquent look. what have you learned with regard to the affair in the Rue Saint-Jacques?" "The affair in the Rue Saint-Jacques!" exclaimed Villefort. what your majesty is pleased to attribute to me as profound perspicacity is simply owing to chance. "And now. Villefort came to the rescue of the crest-fallen minister. sire. or else dictated by venal ambition. sire. he added. at least you have had the good sense to persevere in your suspicions. sire. "Sire. in the plenitude of his power." "Fortunately. and you may retire. that is to say. for I know now what confidence to place in them. perhaps. "the suddenness of this event must prove to your majesty that the issue is in the hands of Providence. not the 92 . de Villefort insignificant. Do not attribute to me more than I deserve.. what now remains to do is in the department of the minister of war. Any other than yourself would have considered the disclosure of M. In fact." These words were an allusion to the sentiments which the minister of police had uttered with so much confidence an hour before." continued Louis XVIII. unable to repress an exclamation."I do not mean that for you. "for if you have discovered nothing. to me. duke. "we can rely on the army. Realizing this. "'Tis well. your majesty knows how every report confirms their loyalty and attachment. Then. baron. Villefort understood the king's intent. de Blacas and the minister of police. like a good and devoted servant — that's all. but he feared to make for himself a mortal enemy of the police minister." "Do not mention reports." resumed the king. turning towards M.

General Quesnel. Villefort trembled. had just left a Bonapartist club when he disappeared. The king looked towards him. "Yes." "Sire. for that is too deeply engraved in my heart. the servant has given his description. heard the street mentioned. "I came a moment ago to give your majesty fresh information which I had obtained on this head. but he was lost sight of at the corner of the Rue de la Jussienne and the Rue Coq-Heron. de Villefort. Villefort. Yesterday a person exactly corresponding with this description was followed." "On the contrary. put us on the direct track of a great internal conspiracy. sir. and the death of General Quesnel will. turned alternately red and pale. the general's valet. but the rules of etiquette." At the name of General Quesnel. go on. perhaps. sir. and made an appointment with him in the Rue Saint-Jacques. sire. "that death was not the result of suicide. and a thick mustache. unfortunately. but of assassination. for as the minister of police went on speaking he felt his legs bend under him." As the police minister related this to the king. but did not catch the number. — on the contrary. but when he learned that the unknown 93 . and now these facts will cease to interest your majesty." replied the king. when your majesty's attention was attracted by the terrible event that has occurred in the gulf. it appears. sire. "Do you not think with me. dark.respect I have." said the minister of police. with black eyes covered with shaggy eyebrows. buttoned up to the chin. has perished the victim of a Bonapartist ambush?" "It is probable. "Everything points to the conclusion. who looked as if his very life hung on the speaker's lips." Villefort leaned on the back of an arm-chair. An unknown person had been with him that morning. "this affair seems to me to have a decided connection with that which occupies our attention. M. who was dressing his hair at the moment when the stranger entered. whom they believed attached to the usurper." replied Villefort. He was dressed in a blue frock-coat. and wore at his button-hole the rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor. but who was really entirely devoted to me." said Louis XVIII. "But is this all that is known?" "They are on the track of the man who appointed the meeting with him. He is a man of from fifty to fifty-two years of age. that General Quesnel.. as we first believed. "you have to-day earned the right to make inquiries here." "Go on." interposed the minister of police." "On his track?" said Villefort.

" "But you have seen him?" "Sire. "How strange. he took the cross and kissed it. Bonapartists or not. above the order of Notre-Dame-du-Mont-Carmel and St. M. I forgot. de Villefort. be amply satisfied on this point at least." said Louis XVIII. sir. near the cross of St. `And we are on the track of the guilty persons. has been murdered. 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..'" "Sire." "Ma foi." "Ah. in the Rue de Tournon." continued the king. shall be cruelly punished. I went straight to the Duc de Blacas. and that is another sacrifice made to the royal cause. `A murder has been committed. for I have not the time to procure you another. let it be your care to see that the brevet is made out and sent to M." "We shall see. Louis. "Continue to seek for this man." he replied. his assassins. I trust." Villefort's eyes were filled with tears of joy and pride. In the meanwhile" (the king here detached the cross of the Legion of Honor which he usually wore over his blue coat. sire. with some asperity.' and especially so when they can add. sire. "I alighted at the Hotel de Madrid. this is an officer's cross. "your majesty mistakes.had escaped the vigilance of the agent who followed him. Lazare. who would have been so useful to us at this moment." "Sire." said the king to the minister of police. 94 . we will not forget you. "for if. I will no longer detain you. such as it is." said Louis. and for which you should be recompensed. your majesty will. smiling in a manner which proved that all these questions were not made without a motive." "But you will see him. Blacas. General Quesnel. Noirtier are not on the best terms possible. Of course you stopped at your father's?" A feeling of faintness came over Villefort." "Never mind. and gave it to Villefort) — "in the meanwhile take this cross." It required all Villefort's coolness not to betray the terror with which this declaration of the king inspired him. "I forgot you and M. sir. "take it. for you must be fatigued after so long a journey. de Villefort. go and rest. "the police think that they have disposed of the whole matter when they say. he breathed again." said Villefort. as I am all but convinced." "Sire. then?" "I think not. make your mind easy. "No.

" he said. remain. whose career was ended. and gave loose to dreams of ambition." "Dark or fair?" "Dark. saluting the minister. "Well. a man of about fifty." "Short or tall?" "About your own height. "may I inquire what are the orders with which your majesty deigns to honor me?" "Take what rest you require." said Villefort. The valet entered. "in an hour I shall have quitted Paris. He was about to begin his repast when the sound of the bell rang sharp and loud. ordered horses to be ready in two hours." "Did he mention my name?" "Yes. Ten minutes afterwards Villefort reached his hotel. and springing in. sir." replied Villefort." said the minister of police to Villefort. and looking about him for a hackney-coach. sir."And now. Baron. "you entered by luck's door — your fortune is made." "And how dressed?" asked Villefort quickly." "A stranger who will not send in his name! What can he want with me?" "He wishes to speak to you." said the king. which he hailed." "Ah. sir. with black eyes. do not be afraid to bring yourself to my recollection. 95 . black hair." "Go. "Who could know that I was here already?" said the young man." "Will it be long first?" muttered Villefort. "and should I forget you (kings' memories are short)." "To me?" "Yes. The valet opened the door. Blacas. he gave his address to the driver. you may be of the greatest service to me at Marseilles. black eyebrows. send for the minister of war." "What sort of person is he?" "Why. sir. threw himself on the seat. and remember that if you are not able to serve me here in Paris. — very dark. and Villefort heard some one speak his name. bowing. "what is it? — Who rang? — Who asked for me?" "A stranger who will not send in his name. as they left the Tuileries. and asked to have his breakfast brought to him. One passed at the moment." "Sire.

"allow me to say." said the individual whose description we have twice given. entering the door. then."In a blue frock-coat." said Villefort. Germain." "Leave us. my dear Gerard." replied the new-comer. I felt sure it must be you. putting his cane in a corner and his hat on a chair. pardieu. if you felt so sure. The servant quitted the apartment with evident signs of astonishment." "It is he!" said Villefort. buttoned up close. 96 . that it was not very filial of you to keep me waiting at the door." "Well. "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. turning pale. "Eh. decorated with the Legion of Honor. "then I was not deceived.

my dear boy. and my journey will be your salvation. for it is for you that I came." said Gerard. your coolness makes me shudder. my dear father. when you announce to me your wedding for the 28th of February." "Why. now. and then. and on the 3rd of March you turn up here in Paris. Noirtier then took the trouble to close and bolt the ante-chamber door. no doubt. that he might be overheard in the ante-chamber. seating himself. with a very significant look." "Father. drawing closer to M. you seem as if you were not very glad to see me?" "My dear father. and then extended his hand to Villefort." "And if I have come. delighted. I am vice-president. who had followed all his motions with surprise which he could not conceal. Noirtier. indeed. he becomes 97 . yes. but I so little expected your visit. who proved that he was not exempt from the sin which ruined our first parents. "do not complain. "do you know. Noirtier — for it was. Noirtier. my dear Gerard. pray tell me all about it. when a man has been proscribed by the mountaineers. he opened the door again. been hunted over the plains of Bordeaux by Robespierre's bloodhounds. "I am. 53. then that of the bed-chamber. that it has somewhat overcome me. "Really.Chapter 12 Father and Son. Noirtier. indeed!" said M. for it must be interesting. has escaped from Paris in a hay-cart. M. stretching himself out at his ease in the chair. on the contrary. you have heard speak of a certain Bonapartist club in the Rue Saint-Jacques?" "No. fearing. "Well." said he to the young man. he who entered — looked after the servant until the door was closed. M. nor was the precaution useless. my dear fellow. "I might say the same thing to you. as appeared from the rapid retreat of Germain." said Villefort." "Father." replied M." "Ah." "But.

and General Quesnel. Had that letter fallen into the hands of another. come." replied Noirtier." said he. in return for your story." 98 . Why didn't they search more vigilantly? they would have found" — "They have not found. I entreat of you — for your own sake as well as mine. "I will tell you another. three days ago the emperor had not landed. "will the Restoration adopt imperial methods so promptly? Shot. for that letter must have led to your condemnation. for three days ago I posted from Marseilles to Paris with all possible speed. my dear father. you. I can easily comprehend that. Why." continued Noirtier. and knew it even before you could. and which I discovered in the pocket-book of the messenger." "My dear father. 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. Yes. but they are on the track." "I must refer again to the club in the Rue Saint-Jacques. I heard this news." "It appears that this club is rather a bore to the police. who quitted his own house at nine o'clock in the evening." "No matter." "Well. sir — I save you. was found the next day in the Seine." Villefort's father laughed." "You do? Why." "To me?" "To you.accustomed to most things." "Three days ago? You are crazy. I was aware of his intention. I think I already know what you are about to tell me." "Ah. for fear that even a fragment should remain. father." "And who told you this fine story?" "The king himself. half-desperate at the enforced delay. then." "And the destruction of your future prospects. the thing becomes more and more dramatic — explain yourself. But go on." "I burnt it. what about the club in the Rue Saint-Jacques?" "Why. they induced General Quesnel to go there. would probably ere this have been shot. "yes." "I do better than that. "Come. But I have nothing to fear while I have you to protect me. you have heard of the landing of the emperor?" "Not so loud. really." "How did you know about it?" "By a letter addressed to you from the Island of Elba.

etc. to found an accusation on such bad premises! Did I ever say to you. no. that the usual phrase. Villefort. What could that mean? why. When the police is at fault." "I do not understand you. sir. there is nothing to prove that the general was murdered." "And who thus designated it?" "The king himself. our revenge will be sweeping. No. and in all countries they call that a murder. there are no men. but they have found a corpse. having thrown themselves in. he replied that he was a royalist. the general has been killed. with a sneaking air. in spite of that. you have committed a murder?' No." 99 . in politics we do not kill a man. father. but interests. and people do not bathe in the Seine in the month of January. we only remove an obstacle. I said. that on leaving us he lost his way. where he would find some friends. it will be our turn." "The king! I thought he was philosopher enough to allow that there was no murder in politics. when you were fulfilling your character as a royalist. Then all looked at each other. this was murder in every sense of the word. In politics. it declares that it is on the track. that the track is lost. my dear fellow. and the government patiently awaits the day when it comes to say. and the plan was unfolded to him for leaving Elba. my dear fellow. Yet he did not return home." "Father.'" "But. or having been drowned from not knowing how to swim. When he had heard and comprehended all to the fullest extent. Would you like to know how matters have progressed? Well. perchance. A murder? really. do not be deceived. and invited him to the Rue Saint-Jacques. but ideas — no feelings." "A murder do you call it? why. to-morrow. It was thought reliance might be placed in General Quesnel. he was recommended to us from the Island of Elba. but with such an ill grace that it was really tempting Providence to swear him. a deputy procureur. one of us went to him. that is all. you have gained the victory. I am quite familiar with it. you know. — he was made to take an oath. and cut off the head of one of my party." "Yes. that's all. `My son. the general was allowed to depart free — perfectly free. I will tell you. You."Yes. when our turn comes. `Very well. take care. and yet. you know very well that the general was not a man to drown himself in despair. He came there. and did so. the projected landing. People are found every day in the Seine. as well as I do. you surprise me.

with a sneer. my dear father. you wished to conceal your journey from me. devotion. He is pursued. he will not advance two leagues into the interior of France without being followed. and yet I knew of your arrival half an hour after you had passed the barrier. and our police are as good as your own. to escort him into the capital." "Yes. you are but a child. I believe." "Indeed!" replied Villefort."You rely on the usurper's return?" "We do. we are as well informed as you. You gave your direction to no one but your postilion. You who are in power have only the means that money produces — we who are in expectation." "Grenoble and Lyons are faithful cities. "you really do seem very well informed. Would you like a proof of it? well. and will oppose to him an impassable barrier. "one word more. `The usurper has landed at Cannes with several men. the phrase for hopeful ambition." said the young man." 100 . and armies will be despatched against him. they do know one terrible thing." "My dear fellow. and plate." "Yes. "Wait. without drawing a trigger. then. and in this way they will chase him to Paris. the emperor is at this moment on the way to Grenoble. on the 10th or 12th he will be at Lyons. for that is. three days after the landing. you think yourself well informed because the telegraph has told you." "Devotion!" said Villefort. to summon the servant whom his son had not called. Ring. fork. looking at his father with astonishment. and on the 20th or 25th at Paris. yet I have your address." "Grenoble will open her gates to him with enthusiasm — all Lyons will hasten to welcome him." "Eh? the thing is simple enough.' But where is he? what is he doing? You do not know at all." "You are mistaken. have those which devotion prompts." "However stupid the royalist police may be. "Yes. and in proof I am here the very instant you are going to sit at table. tracked." "He has but a handful of men with him." "The people will rise. Really. for a second knife. my dear Gerard. if you please. Villefort caught his arm. to go and meet him. and caught like a wild beast. Believe me." And Villefort's father extended his hand to the bell-rope." "Say on. and we will dine together.

yes. 101 . leaving his cane in the corner where he had deposited it. "and why. and a cane. when this disguise was completed." At these words he rose. and. "I rely on your prudence to remove all the things which I leave in your care. if this person were not on his guard. "true." said Noirtier. is it?" said Noirtier. a colored neckerchief which lay at the top of an open portmanteau. have they? And what may be that description?" "Dark complexion. do you think your police will recognize me now. and. blue frockcoat. buttoned up to the chin. on the morning of the day when General Quesnel disappeared. ha. turning towards his wondering son. "at least. and whiskers. instead of his black cravat. and that you have really saved my life. "Yes. but they may catch him yet." Villefort shook his head. and now I believe you are right. they lost sight of him at the corner of the Rue Coq-Heron. rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor in his button-hole. he took up a small bamboo switch." "Oh. that's it. have they not laid hands on him?" "Because yesterday."What is that?" "The description of the man who." "Didn't I say that your police were good for nothing?" "Yes." "True. as he is. tried on before the glass a narrow-brimmed hat of his son's. be assured I will return the favor hereafter. I hope not. with a firm hand. my dear boy. black. lathered his face. a coat of Villefort's of dark brown. and put off his frock-coat and cravat. and walked about with that easy swagger which was one of his principal characteristics. "Well. then." stammered Villefort. looking carelessly around him. took a razor." he said. hair." "Ah. went towards a table on which lay his son's toilet articles. put on. father. and cut away in front. cut off the compromising whiskers." "And now. or the day before. which appeared to fit him perfectly. cut the air with it once or twice. "He will consequently make a few changes in his personal appearance." "No. a hat with wide brim." and he added with a smile. took. His whiskers cut off. Villefort watched him with alarm not devoid of admiration. the admirable police have found that out. in lieu of his blue and high-buttoned frockcoat. "well." continued Noirtier. rely on me." "Oh." said Villefort. eyebrows. Noirtier gave another turn to his hair. presented himself at his house.

we shall act like powerful men who know their enemies. he whom in Paris you call the Corsican ogre. if you prefer it. for your adversary is powerful enough to show you mercy. friendly counsels. what should I say to the king?" "Say this to him: `Sire. or. Sire. and the prejudices of the army. Marengo. return with all speed. but by right of conquest. secret. This will be. to him who acquired it. and a blue frock-coat. and your house by the backdoor. Keep your journey a secret. captured. but some day they do them justice. my dear Gerard. not that you incur any risk. but because it would be humiliating for a grandson of Saint Louis to owe his life to the man of Arcola. with the same calmness that had characterized him during the whole of this remarkable and trying conversation. with a smile. sire. Austerlitz. we will keep you in your place. Go. I swear to you." "Well." "True. above all. gather like atoms of snow about the rolling ball as it hastens onward. and. my son — go." Noirtier left the room when he had finished. by two or three ill-looking men at the corner of the street. pale and agitated. as to the opinions of the towns. go. ready to desert. go. perhaps. enter Marseilles at night. quiet." added Noirtier. and at your next journey alight at my door. "one means by which you may a second time save me. or."You are not convinced yet?" "I hope at least. Gerard. ran to the window. You think he is tracked." "Shall you see the king again?" "Perhaps. and saw him pass. inoffensive. leave France to its real master. and emperor at Grenoble. he is advancing as rapidly as his own eagles. put aside the curtain. my dear Gerard. pursued. and cast you aloft while hurling me down. Adieu. and there remain. that you may be mistaken. Villefort. rather. if the political balance should some day take another turn. you would then pass for a great man. The soldiers you believe to be dying with hunger. worn out with fatigue. is already saluted as Bonaparte at Lyons. for this time. or have done. tell him nothing. 102 . and supposing a second restoration. 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. and hat with broad brim. to arrest a man with black whiskers. who were there.' Tell him this. do not boast of what you have come to Paris to do. father. not by purchase. cool and collected. who at Nevers is styled the usurper. submissive. and by your obedience to my paternal orders.

until his father had disappeared at the Rue Bussy. at length reached Marseilles. 103 . a prey to all the hopes and fears which enter into the heart of man with ambition and its first successes. sprang into his carriage. which was ready. broke the cane into small bits and flung it in the fire. and calling his valet. breathless. and in the midst of the tumult which prevailed along the road. put on his travelling-cap. checked with a look the thousand questions he was ready to ask. paid his bill. learned at Lyons that Bonaparte had entered Grenoble.Villefort stood watching. Then he turned to the various articles he had left behind him. put the black cravat and blue frock-coat at the bottom of the portmanteau. threw the hat into a dark closet.

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. — scarcely had this occurred when Marseilles began. so much so. doubtless. scarcely had the emperor re-entered the Tuileries and begun to issue orders from the closet into which we have introduced our readers. Louis XVIII. and things progressed rapidly. because Morrel was a prudent and rather a timid man. scarcely was the imperial power established — that is. Napoleon would. Owing to this change. and at a sign from the emperor the incongruous structure of ancient prejudices and new ideas fell to the ground. therefore. although M.'s half-filled snuff-box. the monarchy he had scarcely reconstructed tottered on its precarious foundation. a return which was unprecedented in the past. M. de Blacas had duly forwarded the brevet. being suspected of royalism. which he had the prudence not to wear.Chapter 13 The Hundred Days. Noirtier was a true prophet. Villefort. Every one knows the history of the famous return from Elba. All Villefort's influence barely enabled him to stifle the secret Dantes had so nearly divulged. made but a faint attempt to parry this unexpected blow. the worthy shipowner became at that moment — we will not say all powerful. as he had predicted. — he found on the table there Louis XVIII. The king's procureur alone was deprived of his office. and will probably remain without a counterpart in the future. to rekindle the flames of civil war. have deprived Villefort of his office had it not been for Noirtier. always smouldering in the south. 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. and thus the Girondin of '93 and the Senator of 1806 protected him who so lately had been his protector. in spite of the authorities. that many of the most zealous partisans of 104 . who was all powerful at court. However.

" said the magistrate. after a brief interval. returned." "Do you not guess. the mate of my ship. He had entered Villefort's office expecting that the magistrate would tremble at the sight of him. that most insurmountable barrier which separates the well-bred from the vulgar man. and his head leaning on his hand." said Morrel." "Monsieur. and the marriage be still more suitable. on the contrary. he felt a cold shudder all over him when he saw Villefort sitting there with his elbow on his desk. Villefort retained his place. The deputy-procureur was. the influence of M. although he had no one with him. and M. Gerard required a different alliance to aid his career. Morrel was announced. Morrel to be admitted. He made Morrel wait in the ante-chamber. He stopped at the door. but Villefort was a man of ability. if Louis XVIII. — "M." "Come nearer. You then served Louis XVIII. 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 after passing a quarter of an hour in reading the papers. recovering his assurance as he proceeded. he ordered M. the first magistrate of Marseilles. monsieur?" asked Morrel. "Not in the least. If the emperor remained on the throne. then. "Yes. but if I can serve you in any way I shall be delighted." "Everything depends on you. Morrel expected Villefort would be dejected." "Explain yourself. therefore. like his own. during which the honest shipowner turned his hat in his hands. "do you recollect that a few days before the landing of his majesty the emperor. Morrel. de Saint-Meran. but his marriage was put off until a more favorable opportunity. sir. with a patronizing wave of the hand. could be vastly increased. when one morning his door opened. I came to intercede for a young man. "and tell me to what circumstance I owe the honor of this visit. I believe?" said Villefort. firm. calm. pray.. for the simple reason that the king's procureur always makes every one wait. Any one else would have hastened to receive him. and you did not show any favor — it was your duty. Villefort gazed at him as if he had some difficulty in recognizing him. and full of that glacial politeness. 105 . he found him as he had found him six weeks before. and he knew this would be a sign of weakness.Bonaparte accused him of "moderation" — but sufficiently influential to make a demand in favor of Dantes.

" returned Villefort. "I have it — a sailor. I come. but he did not blanch. "Tell me his name. turning to Morrel." Villefort opened a large register. "Dantes." said Morrel. and you ought to protect him — it is equally your duty. The miraculous return of Napoleon has conquered me. the royalists were very severe with the Bonapartists in those days." "Wait a moment. Villefort had calculated rightly." Villefort would probably have rather stood opposite the muzzle of a pistol at five-and-twenty paces than have heard this name spoken. then went to a table. the legitimate monarch is he who is loved by his people. turning over the leaves of a register. "I like to hear you speak thus." "Edmond Dantes. monsieur?" said he. in the most natural tone in the world. Do not you recollect. "Edmond Dantes. I have known him for ten years." "Yes. "I am not mistaken. from the table turned to his registers. Had Morrel been a more quick-sighted man. it was a very serious charge. But Morrel. to ask what has become of him?" Villefort by a strong effort sought to control himself. he would have been surprised at the king's procureur answering him on such a subject. therefore." "That's right!" cried Morrel. — "Are you quite sure you are not mistaken. "What is his name?" said he." "Carried off!" said Morrel. disappointed in his expectations of exciting fear. "What can they have done with him?" 106 ." repeated he. and I augur well for Edmond from it. I recollect now. who was about to marry a young Catalan girl. and a week after he was carried off. the last four of which he was in my service. "No. was conscious only of the other's condescension. instead of referring him to the governors of the prison or the prefect of the department. You received me very coldly. Oh." "Monsieur. but the chosen of the nation. and then. because I believed the Bourbons not only the heirs to the throne." "How so?" "You know that when he left here he was taken to the Palais de Justice. I came about six weeks ago to plead for clemency." said Villefort. you serve Napoleon. as I come to-day to plead for justice." "Well?" "I made my report to the authorities at Paris. "I was then a royalist. or better versed in these matters.

" said Morrel." "Do not be too hasty. and the number of prisoners whose names are not on the register is incalculable. "is there no way of expediting all these formalities — of releasing him from arrest?" "There has been no arrest. my dear Morrel. so much kindness would have dispelled them. but he will read a petition countersigned and presented by me. it shall be kept for him. "Petition the minister. but at present" — "It has always been so. so that no written forms or documents may defeat their wishes." "But. if it did take place would leave him defenceless. But lose no time. the letters have not yet been forwarded. "The order of imprisonment came from high authority. "But how shall I address the minister?" "Sit down there." said Villefort. to Pignerol. I know what that is. however improbable it might be. Dantes was then guilty. or to the SainteMarguerite islands. the minister receives two hundred petitions every day. and does not read three." "Oh. since the reign of Louis XIV." 107 ." "How?" "It is sometimes essential to government to cause a man's disappearance without leaving any traces. de Villefort. "and write what I dictate. giving up his place to Morrel. Some fine morning he will return to take command of your vessel. M."Oh. and now he is innocent. we have lost too much already. and. Morrel. and the order for his liberation must proceed from the same source. "Well." "Will you be so good?" "Certainly." Villefort thus forestalled any danger of an inquiry." "It might be so under the Bourbons. and it is as much my duty to free him as it was to condemn him." replied Villefort. he has been taken to Fenestrelles." "That is true. 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." Had Morrel even any suspicions. M. The emperor is more strict in prison discipline than even Louis himself." "And will you undertake to deliver it?" "With the greatest pleasure. how would you advise me to act?" asked he. as Napoleon has scarcely been reinstated a fortnight. which." "Come when he will.

remounted the throne. Louis XVIII. whose father now stood higher at court than ever." And. no doubt. "That will do. — that is. and twice had Villefort soothed him with promises. after the Hundred Days and after Waterloo. Villefort. sought and obtained the situation of king's procureur at Toulouse. "a decree of Providence. he carefully preserved the petition that so fearfully compromised Dantes. and a fortnight afterwards he married Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. As for Villefort. At last there was Waterloo. after the manner of mediocre minds. Villefort read it aloud. and Morrel came no more. Dantes remained a prisoner."That is true. The petition finished. or the still more tragic destruction of the empire. remained in his dungeon. Villefort dictated a petition. Twice during the Hundred Days had Morrel renewed his demand. but he had gone too far to draw back. who took leave of Villefort. "leave the rest to me. It was evident that at the sight of this document the minister would instantly release him. he. and heard not the noise of the fall of Louis XVIII. and hastened to announce to old Dantes that he would soon see his son. forgotten of earth and heaven. and he lived in constant fear of Dantes' return on a mission of vengeance." This assurance delighted Morrel. when Napoleon returned to France. termed the coincidence. and he was made out one of the most active agents of Napoleon's return." "Countersigned by you?" "The best thing I can do will be to certify the truth of the contents of your petition." But when Napoleon returned to Paris. he had done all that was in his power. instead of sending to Paris. in the hopes of an event that seemed not unlikely. Dantes' patriotic services were exaggerated. 108 . a second restoration. in which. Dantes must be crushed to gratify Villefort's ambition." said he. Danglars comprehended the full extent of the wretched fate that overwhelmed Dantes." Villefort shuddered at the suggestion.'s throne. and any fresh attempt would only compromise himself uselessly. He therefore informed M. from an excellent intention. Danglars' heart failed him. And so Dantes. sitting down. "What more is to be done?" "I will do whatever is necessary. and. Villefort wrote the certificate at the bottom. to whom Marseilles had become filled with remorseful memories. Only think what the poor fellow may even now be suffering." "Will the petition go soon?" "To-day.

and the sea that had never seemed so vast. he was merely sent to the frontier. Only. his rival would perhaps return and marry Mercedes. that is. at other times gazing on the sea. What had become of him he cared not to inquire." These words carried a ray of hope into Fernand's heart. enrolled in the army. like Fernand. Sometimes she stood mute and motionless as a statue. lost all hope at Napoleon's downfall. I shall be alone in the world. During this time the empire made its last conscription. Had Fernand really meant to kill himself. he reflected. and thus end her woes. watching for the apparition of a young and handsome man. and almost at the hour 109 . bearing with him the terrible thought that while he was away. partly on the means of deceiving Mercedes as to the cause of his absence. into whose service he entered at the end of March. at the spot from whence Marseilles and the Catalans are visible. Mercedes might one day be his. Fernand understood nothing except that Dantes was absent. and debating as to whether it were not better to cast herself into the abyss of the ocean. "be careful of yourself. but. It was not want of courage that prevented her putting this resolution into execution. He then left for Madrid. Caderousse was. Five months after he had been separated from his son. Fernand's mind was made up." said she as she placed his knapsack on his shoulders. But Fernand was mistaken. as from time to time he sat sad and motionless on the summit of Cape Pharo. and the compassion he showed for her misfortunes. looking towards Marseilles. and obtained a recommendation from him to a Spanish merchant. Fernand departed with the rest. a man of his disposition never kills himself. he would have done so when he parted from Mercedes. for he constantly hopes. and then kill himself. but her religious feelings came to her aid and saved her. His devotion. for if you are killed. during the respite the absence of his rival afforded him. and every man in France capable of bearing arms rushed to obey the summons of the emperor. Mercedes was left alone face to face with the vast plain that had never seemed so barren. partly on plans of emigration and abduction.Morrel of his wish to quit the sea. who was for him also the messenger of vengeance. produced the effect they always produce on noble minds — Mercedes had always had a sincere regard for Fernand. Should Dantes not return. being married and eight years older. Old Dantes. "My brother. and was no more heard of. he would shoot Dantes. and this was now strengthened by gratitude. who was only sustained by hope. ten or twelve days after Napoleon's return. Bathed in tears she wandered about the Catalan village.

the south was aflame. M. the father of so dangerous a Bonapartist as Dantes. and a few small debts the poor old man had contracted. there was courage. Morrel paid the expenses of his funeral. There was more than benevolence in this action. he breathed his last in Mercedes' arms. and to assist. even on his death-bed. 110 . was stigmatized as a crime.of his arrest.

Are there any others?" "Yes. when you see one prisoner. and if they had any request to make. "We must play the farce to the end." said the governor." "Take all needful precautions. The universal response was. They shook their heads. and you might fall a victim." "Let us first send for two soldiers. — sounds that at the depth where he lay would have been inaudible to any but the ear of a prisoner. The inspector visited." "Let us visit them. commit acts of useless violence. whose good behavior or stupidity recommended them to the clemency of the government. Two soldiers were accordingly sent for. so dark." replied the inspector. through mere uneasiness of life. He guessed something uncommon was passing among the living. a visit was made by the inspectorgeneral of prisons. "who can live here?" 111 . one after another. as to be loathsome to sight. and that they wanted to be set free. and in order to be sentenced to death. — ill fed and innocent. A year after Louis XVIII. the dangerous and mad prisoners are in the dungeons. smell. What could they desire beyond their liberty? The inspector turned smilingly to the governor. — always the same thing." said the inspector with an air of fatigue. so humid. Let us see the dungeons. He inquired how they were fed. and respiration. Dantes in his cell heard the noise of preparation. the cells and dungeons of several of the prisoners. that he looked upon himself as dead. The inspector asked if they had anything else to ask for. "Oh. and the inspector descended a stairway.'s restoration.Chapter 14 The Two Prisoners. who could hear the splash of the drop of water that every hour fell from the roof of his dungeon. so foul. "The prisoners sometimes." cried the inspector. you see all. "I do not know what reason government can assign for these useless visits. that the fare was detestable. but he had so long ceased to have any intercourse with the world.

whence he could see the ray of light that came through a narrow iron grating above. Now we have in a dungeon about twenty feet distant. he wished to display his authority. and the creaking of the hinges." said the inspector. he is almost mad now. Seeing a stranger." "Was he placed here when he first arrived?" "No. "I must conscientiously perform my duty. a man we are ordered to keep the most strict watch over. and that the 112 . "and this remark proves that you have deeply considered the subject. "By all means. who took his food to him. as this remark shows. Dantes. "He is worse than that. he now laughs. You had better see him." said the inspector. escorted by two turnkeys holding torches and accompanied by two soldiers." This was the inspector's first visit. a man full of philanthropy. sir. raised his head. "He must be mad. as he is daring and resolute." "How long his he been there?" "Nearly a year." replied the governor. "Let us visit this one first. "You are right. — he is a devil!" returned the turnkey. he grew thin. Besides. Dantes. — he will suffer less." "I will see them both. and the change is astonishing. the very one who is lighting us. an abbe. not until he attempted to kill the turnkey. and to whom the governor spoke bareheaded. Antoine?" asked the governor. "True enough. he wanted to kill me!" returned the turnkey." "He is alone?" "Certainly." "So much the better for him. "Shall I complain of him?" demanded the inspector. who was crouched in a corner of the dungeon." returned the inspector. for his madness is amusing. He was." "To kill the turnkey?" "Yes. and he signed to the turnkey to open the door." added he. and to which you descend by another stair. who has been here since 1811. and in 1813 he went mad. "Oh. no. who guessed the truth. and in another year he will be quite so. formerly leader of a party in Italy."A most dangerous conspirator. He used to weep. and in every way fit for his office. At the sound of the key turning in the lock. Is it not true. he now grows fat. it is useless." replied the governor.

" "To-day is the 30th of July. and I beg his pardon. the victim of an infamous denunciation. but a trial." "And you are not so any longer?" "No. 1815. What matters really. when you tried to kill the turnkey. then. was on the point of marrying a woman he adored." "So long? — when were you arrested. The soldiers interposed their bayonets. he is afraid. for they thought that he was about to attack the inspector." remarked the governor. to die here cursing his executioners. like me. The inspector listened attentively. to be set at liberty.moment to address himself to the superior authorities was come." "Only seventeen months. but I was mad." replied Dantes. and sought to inspire him with pity. it's of no consequence. I made some curious observations on this at Charenton. and ask for me. is that an innocent man should languish in prison. infusing all the humility he possessed into his eyes and voice. not only to me." Then. not pardon." "You are very humble to-day. then?" asked the inspector. the other day. at half-past two in the afternoon. turning to the governor. then. not intelligence. turning to the prisoner. and the latter recoiled two or three steps. I don't know. especially to a man who. "you are not so always. that. "Oh. to be shot. but a verdict — a trial. observed. and is ignorant of the fate of his affianced wife. he addressed the inspector." "Are you well fed?" said the inspector. Dantes saw that he was looked upon as dangerous. Have pity on me. but to officers of justice and the king. I ask only for a trial. "I want to know what crime I have committed — to be tried. sprang forward with clasped hands. sir. Then." "It is true. if innocent. surely. and if I am guilty. had arrived at the summit of his ambition — to a man. and whether his aged father be still living! Seventeen months captivity to a sailor accustomed to the boundless ocean. who. for he his always been very good to me. — why it is but seventeen months. like me. "He will become religious — he is already more gentle. sir. captivity has subdued me — I have been here so long. "I believe so. you do not know what is seventeen months in prison! — seventeen ages rather. and retreated before the bayonets — madmen are not afraid of anything. cannot be denied to one who is accused!" 113 . and who loses all in an instant — who sees his prospects destroyed. who saw an honorable career opened before him. for instance. is a worse punishment than human crime ever merited. "What is it you want?" said he. 1816. "The 28th of February.

"I can only promise to examine into your case. and offer you five millions." "Ah." "Monsieur. 27." "Certainly." "How curious! — what is his name?" "The Abbe Faria. and his madness is less affecting than this one's display of reason. two. on the contrary." "M. "or proceed to the other cell?" "Let us visit them all. Villefort is no longer at Marseilles. "Monsieur. Let me know my crime. and hear what he says. turning to the governor." "Go on with the lights. three." said the inspector. "On my word." "I can. He is now in his fifth year of captivity. Villefort. and so on progressively." "Oh. the second." said the inspector. he is now at Toulouse. rely on the notes he has left concerning you?" "Entirely." replied the inspector." "What is his folly?" "He fancies he possesses an immense treasure." "I cannot tell you that. but you will find terrible charges. The door closed. he was very kind to me. and the reason why I was condemned." continued Dantes. "If I once went up those stairs." "That is well. he will ask to speak to you in private. I should never have the courage to come down again. but you can plead for me — you can have me tried — and that is all I ask. then. The first year he offered government a million of francs for his release. "I can tell by your voice you are touched with pity." "No." cried Dantes. wait patiently. this one is not like the other. "I know it is not in your power to release me. Uncertainty is worse than all. but this time a fresh inmate was left with Dantes — hope. then." said the inspector. See him." Dantes fell on his knees. de Villefort any cause of personal dislike to you?" "None. "since my only protector is removed. the third. 114 . I am free — then I am saved!" "Who arrested you?" "M." murmured Dantes. then. the poor devil touches me." asked the governor. "Will you see the register at once."We shall see." said the inspector." "Had M. You must show me the proofs against him. and prayed earnestly. tell me at least to hope." "I am no longer surprised at my detention.

I was arrested. Antoine. now. "and we shall understand each other. then. unlock the door. like Milan and Florence. "I." "There." returned the Abbe Faria. but to inquire if you have anything to ask or to complain of. "What is it you want?" said the inspector. since then I have demanded my liberty from the Italian and French government. why." said the inspector. Piombino has become the capital of some French department. which was to make Italy a united kingdom. monsieur." returned the inspector. He hastily seized the coverlet of his bed. that is different." "Monsieur." whispered the governor. I hope." cried the abbe. He did not move at the sound of the door. toward the beginning of the year 1811. only I am not come to discuss politics. "and as the emperor had created the kingdom of Rome for his infant son. "providence has changed this gigantic plan you advocate so warmly. and seemed as much absorbed in his problem as Archimedes was when the soldier of Marcellus slew him. I presume that he has realized the dream of Machiavelli and Caesar Borgia." continued the prisoner. and the inspector gazed curiously into the chamber of the "mad abbe. sat a man whose tattered garments scarcely covered him." continued the inspector. happy."It is here. I was for twenty years Cardinal Spada's secretary." "Ah." replied the abbe with an air of surprise — "I want nothing. "I am the Abbe Faria." "It is the only means of rendering Italy strong. I know not. he perceived with astonishment the number of persons present. "I am sent here by government to visit the prison. born at Rome." "Very possibly. and independent. and continued his calculations until the flash of the torches lighted up with an unwonted glare the sombre walls of his cell. "it is just as I told you. in a circle traced with a fragment of plaster detached from the wall. He was drawing in this circle geometrical lines." The turnkey obeyed." In the centre of the cell. "you have not the latest news from Italy?" "My information dates from the day on which I was arrested." "Why from the French government?" "Because I was arrested at Piombino. and hear the requests of the prisoners. and wrapped it round him." 115 . and I presume that. raising his head." "You do not understand." "Oh." "Monsieur.

seeing that the inspector was about to depart." said the governor. which. "keep them until you are liberated." whispered the governor." continued the abbe. "You knew him. the government is rich and does not want your treasures. I should believe what he says. "I can tell you the story as well as he. Inspector. the governor can be present."The food is the same as in other prisons." returned the inspector with a smile. "it is not absolutely necessary for us to be alone. amounting to five millions. if they will only give me my liberty. "It is for that reason I am delighted to see you." continued Faria." said the inspector in a low tone. — that is. and I offer to sign an 116 . passable for a dungeon. and having eyes see not." "Unfortunately. "I know beforehand what you are about to say. for it has been dinned in my ears for the last four or five years." said the abbe. "although you have disturbed me in a most important calculation. the lodging is very unhealthful. "Of course. "that you are like those of Holy Writ. "But. Had not government better profit by it? I will offer six millions." whispered the inspector in his turn. would possibly change Newton's system." cried he. "The treasure I speak of really exists. and I will content myself with the rest. "of what else should I speak?" "Mr. on the whole." "That proves. with that acuteness of hearing peculiar to prisoners." The abbe's eyes glistened." "We are coming to the point." "On my word." continued he. he seized the inspector's hand. Could you allow me a few words in private. it concerns your treasures. "What you ask is impossible. "and am detained here until my death? this treasure will be lost." replied the inspector. "But what if I am not liberated." returned the abbe. does it not?" Faria fixed his eyes on him with an expression that would have convinced any one else of his sanity." "My dear sir." "The very sum you named. very bad. "I would speak to you of a large sum. but a secret I have to reveal of the greatest importance. who having ears hear not." "I am not mad. "However." replied Faria. if it succeeded." said he." "What did I tell you?" said the governor. addressing Faria. monsieur. but." continued the governor. but it is not that which I wish to speak of. "had I not been told beforehand that this man was mad.

and this visit only increased the belief in his insanity. "If all the prisoners took it into their heads to travel a hundred leagues." replied Faria." said the inspector." "After all. restrained by the limits of mere probability." said the governor. "and the abbe's plan has not even the merit of originality." "Are you well fed?" repeated the inspector. in exchange for his wealth. I will keep it for myself. for. resumed his place. They fear the ear that hears their orders. Caligula or Nero. and if I deceive you." And the abbe. have neither courage nor desire. "He was wealthy once." "You do not reply to my question. He remained in his cell. the liberty he so earnestly prayed for." "It is not ill-planned. "Or dreamed he was. so there is no chance of my escaping." replied the governor. would have accorded to the poor wretch. Faria replied to this sarcasm with a glance of profound contempt. I will stay here. they would have a capital chance of escaping. But the kings of modern times. you run no risk. As the Inquisition rarely 117 . "Counting his treasures. in which I promise to lead you to the spot where you shall dig. — I ask no more. and continued his calculations." "The scheme is well known.agreement with you." So the matter ended for the Abbe Faria. and the eye that scrutinizes their actions. God will give it me. and their guardians consented to accompany them. and awoke mad. but nowadays they are not inviolable. perhaps?" said the inspector. casting away his coverlet." The governor laughed. The turnkey closed the door behind them. "You will not accept my gold." Then turning to Faria — "I inquired if you are well fed?" said he. It has always been against the policy of despotic governments to suffer the victims of their persecutions to reappear. and shielded by their birth. and I will stay here while you go to the spot. bring me here again. "to free me if what I tell you prove true. You refuse me my liberty. those desirers of the impossible." said the inspector. he would not have been here." cried the abbe. "What is he doing there?" said the inspector. "if he had been rich. "Monsieur. Formerly they believed themselves sprung from Jupiter. "Swear to me. "Is the spot far from here?" "A hundred leagues." replied the inspector impatiently. "Nor you to mine. as I told you. those treasure-seekers. They went out.

he learned their numbers instead. condemned him to perpetual captivity. then six more. three months passed away. in order not to lose his reckoning again. he examined the register. he had. At the expiration of a year the governor was transferred. and made a mark every day. till then. and amongst them Dantes' jailer. but now. and the unhappy young man was no longer called Edmond Dantes — he was now number 34. he had obtained charge of the fortress at Ham.allowed its victims to be seen with their limbs distorted and their flesh lacerated by torture. The inspector could not contend against this accusation. The greatest watchfulness and care to be exercised. 30th July. it would have been too tedious to acquire the names of the prisoners. where the doctor has no thought for man or mind in the mutilated being the jailer delivers to him. and found the following note concerning him: — Edmond Dantes: Violent Bonapartist. should it depart. their inhabitants were designated by the numbers of their cell. 1816. This note was in a different hand from the rest. and Dantes began to fancy the inspector's visit but a dream. so madness is always concealed in its cell. — "Nothing to be done. which showed that it had been added since his confinement. A new governor arrived. took an active part in the return from Elba. an illusion of the brain. with a fragment of plaster. he decided that the inspector would do nothing until his return to Paris. he therefore fixed three months. gone mad in prison. He took with him several of his subordinates." This visit had infused new vigor into Dantes. he at first expected to be freed in a fortnight. forgotten the date. it is conveyed to some gloomy hospital. and that he would not reach there until his circuit was finished. from whence. then months — Dantes still waited. The inspector kept his word with Dantes. Finally ten months and a half had gone by and no favorable change had taken place. he wrote the date. This fortnight expired. The very madness of the Abbe Faria. This horrible place contained fifty cells. 118 . he simply wrote. Days and weeks passed away.

He besought the jailer one day to let him have a companion. even though mute. but the sound of his voice terrified him. At the bottom of his heart he had often had a feeling of pity for this unhappy young man who suffered so. and the brand on the shoulder. to have fresh air. but still. made up of thieves. They were very happy. relaxing his sentiment of pride. not to God. and he laid the request of number 34 before the governor. if possible. His requests were not granted. books. however disadvantageous. was yet a man. the chain. and writing materials. with the infamous costume. The jailer. was still a change. who ought to begin with God. was something. Dantes' mind had revolted at the idea of assemblages of prisoners. in order to see some other face besides that of his jailer. He accustomed himself to speaking to the new jailer. although the latter was. more taciturn than the old one. but the latter sapiently imagined that Dantes wished to conspire or attempt an escape. but he went on asking all the same. Dantes spoke for the sake of hearing his own voice. were it even the mad abbe. and saw each other. and would afford him some amusement. He entreated to be allowed to walk about. Dantes passed through all the stages of torture natural to prisoners in suspense. before his captivity. to speak to a man. Unfortunates. though rough and hardened by the constant sight of so much suffering. and 119 . but to man. then he began to doubt his own innocence. The galley-slaves breathed the fresh air of heaven.Chapter 15 Number 34 and Number 27. do not have any hope in him till they have exhausted all other means of deliverance. God is always the last resource. He was sustained at first by that pride of conscious innocence which is the sequence to hope. and then. for a change. he sighed for the galleys. Often. vagabonds. Dantes asked to be removed from his present dungeon into another. he had tried to speak when alone. which justified in some measure the governor's belief in his mental alienation. He now wished to be amongst them. and murderers. he addressed his supplications.

wreaked his anger upon everything." Yet in spite of his earnest prayers. he whose past life was so short. devoured it (so to speak). was imprisoned like an eagle in a cage. without apparent cause. and chiefly upon himself. traverse in mental vision the history of the ages. Rage supplanted religious fervor. and rebuild the ancient cities so vast and stupendous in the light of the imagination. All the pious ideas that had been so long forgotten. dashed himself furiously against the walls of his prison. he considered and reconsidered this idea. for he fell into a sort of ecstasy. so that the least thing. by an unheard-of fatality. a straw. and that pass before the eye glowing with celestial colors in Martin's Babylonian pictures. and every line gleamed forth in fiery letters on the wall like the mene tekel upharsin of Belshazzar. and he then turned to God. therefore. and without education. and discovered a new meaning in every word. whose present so melancholy. proposed tasks to accomplish. Then gloom settled heavily upon him. he could not. for in prosperity prayers seem but a mere medley of words. as the implacable Ugolino devours the skull of Archbishop Roger in the Inferno of Dante. He could not do this. because after torture 120 . He laid every action of his life before the Almighty. returned. 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. 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 remained a prisoner. he recollected the prayers his mother had taught him. — a grain of sand. Then the letter that Villefort had showed to him recurred to his mind. and his future so doubtful. He told himself that it was the enmity of man.refused his request. and found them all insufficient. or a breath of air that annoyed him. Dantes was a man of great simplicity of thought. no longer terrified at the sound of his own voice. led to paroxysms of fury. He clung to one idea — that of his happiness. and not the vengeance of heaven. that would have exalted in thus revisiting the past. He consigned his unknown persecutors to the most horrible tortures he could imagine. his energetic spirit. in the solitude of his dungeon. destroyed. Dantes uttered blasphemies that made his jailer recoil with horror. bring to life the nations that had perished. and prayed aloud. Nineteen years of light to reflect upon in eternal darkness! No distraction could come to his aid. that had thus plunged him into the deepest misery. Dantes had exhausted all human resources.

like a monstrous bird. But I did so because I was happy. beating the two horizons with its wings. Edmond found some solace in these ideas. Soon the fury of the waves and the sight of the sharp rocks announced the approach of death. because I had not courted death. fled from his cell when the angel of death seemed about to enter. I die exhausted and broken-spirited. and. broods over ideas like these! Before him is a dead sea that stretches in azure calm before the eye. when I was a man and commanded other men. less terrible than the sufferings that precede or the punishment that possibly will follow." said he." No sooner had this idea taken possession of him than he became more composed. and if punishment were the end in view other tortures than death must be invented. and I used all my skill and intelligence as a man and a sailor to struggle against the wrath of God. I have lost all that bound me to life. because he felt that he could throw it off at pleasure. at the bottom of which lie darkness and obscurity.came death. with their train of gloomy spectres. a creature made for the service of God. all his sufferings. who. at least the boon of unconsciousness. on the brink of misfortune. death smiles and invites me to repose. There is a sort of consolation at the contemplation of the yawning abyss. ate little and slept less. like a worn-out garment. Once thus ensnared. Dantes reviewed his past life with composure. I die after my own manner. because I was unwilling that I. because to be cast upon a bed of rocks and seaweed seemed terrible. he began to reflect on suicide. and after death. as I fall asleep when I have paced three thousand times round my cell. however. the sea rage and foam. He could hang himself with his 121 . By dint of constantly dwelling on the idea that tranquillity was death. the storm arise. Then I felt that my vessel was a vain refuge. that trembled and shook before the tempest. and found existence almost supportable. and his struggles but tend to hasten his destruction. arranged his couch to the best of his power. looking forward with terror to his future existence. Two methods of self-destruction were at his disposal. "in my voyages. and. all is over. All his sorrows. Unhappy he. should serve for food to the gulls and ravens. and death then terrified me. unless the protecting hand of God snatch him thence. if not repose. chose that middle line that seemed to afford him a refuge. But now it is different. I have seen the heavens overcast. This state of mental anguish is. "Sometimes. but he who unwarily ventures within its embrace finds himself struggling with a monster that would drag him down to perdition.

or refuse food and die of starvation. and began that day to carry out his resolve." and had chosen the manner of his death. at the end of the second he had ceased to mark the lapse of time. he would not die by what seemed an infamous death. Edmond felt a sort of stupor creeping over him which brought with it a feeling almost of content. awake him. twice a day he cast out. What unforseen events might not open his prison door. Edmond hoped he was dying." He kept his word. of tainted fish. he held the plate in his hand for an hour at a time. Nothing but the recollection of his oath gave him strength to proceed. But the first was repugnant to him. of black and mouldy bread. and fearful of changing his mind. and he would not break it. then his dungeon seemed less sombre. the provisions his jailer brought him — at first gayly. "I wish to die. through the barred aperture. his prospects less desperate. It was a continual scratching. the gnawing pain at his stomach had ceased. Edmond heard a hollow sound in the wall against which he was lying. Dantes said. and they will think that I have eaten them. at last. the jailer feared he was dangerously ill. then with deliberation. he refused himself. Hunger made viands once repugnant. as if made by 122 . when he closed his eyes he saw myriads of lights dancing before them like the will-o'-the-wisps that play about the marshes." thought he. he had not sufficient strength to rise and cast his supper out of the loophole. He persisted until. and gazed thoughtfully at the morsel of bad meat. "I will cast them out of the window. about nine o'clock in the evening. So many loathsome animals inhabited the prison. like a voluntary Tantalus. Dantes had always entertained the greatest horror of pirates. who are hung up to the yard-arm. or whether the noise was really louder than usual. He was still young — he was only four or five and twenty — he had nearly fifty years to live. "When my morning and evening meals are brought. Nearly four years had passed away. and at last with regret. It was the twilight of that mysterious country called Death! Suddenly.handkerchief to the window bars. now acceptable. He resolved to adopt the second. and restore him to liberty? Then he raised to his lips the repast that. his thirst had abated. It was the last yearning for life contending with the resolution of despair. that their noise did not. Edmond raised his head and listened. Thus the day passed away. The next morning he could not see or hear. he had taken an oath to die. in general. but he thought of his oath. but whether abstinence had quickened his faculties.

but how could he risk the question? It was easy to call his jailer's attention to the noise. Oh. he withdrew. he then heard a noise of something falling. and wearying the patience of his jailer. so used to misfortune. It was easy to ascertain this. doubtless he was deceived. about the bad quality of the food. no. and the sound became more and more distinct. nearer and more distinct. he fancied that Dantes was delirious. No. Edmond had not spoken to the attendant. The jailer brought him his breakfast. or some iron instrument attacking the stones. and it was but one of those dreams that forerun death! Edmond still heard the sound. and so destroy a ray of something like hope that soothed his last moments. 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. Perhaps one of those beloved ones he had so often thought of was thinking of him. For a week since he had resolved to die. had not answered him when he inquired what was the matter with him. Although weakened. "it is some prisoner who is striving to obtain his freedom. who out of kindness of heart had brought broth and white bread for his prisoner. Edmond listened. and striving to diminish the distance that separated them. but might he not by this means destroy hopes far more important than the short-lived satisfaction of his own curiosity? 123 . if I were only there to help him!" Suddenly another idea took possession of his mind. "There can be no doubt about it. and had sent this noise to warn him on the very brink of the abyss. the young man's brain instantly responded to the idea that haunts all prisoners — liberty! It seemed to him that heaven had at length taken pity on him. and placing the food on the rickety table." thought he. in order to have an excuse for speaking louder. Fortunately. Some hours afterwards it began again. a powerful tooth.a huge claw. and watch his countenance as he listened. grumbling and complaining. It lasted nearly three hours. but now the jailer might hear the noise and put an end to it. and during the four days that he had been carrying out his purpose. and all was silent. Suddenly the jailer entered. Dantes raised himself up and began to talk about everything. about the coldness of his dungeon. Edmond was intensely interested. and turned his face to the wall when he looked too curiously at him.

and he will cease to work." Edmond rose again. the noise I make will alarm him. staggered towards it. and so preparing himself for his future destiny. he ate these listening anxiously for the sound. and why he does so. but without compromising anybody. in order to find out who is knocking. and not begin again until he thinks every one is asleep. shaking the iron bars of the loophole. he will soon resume it. rose. walking round and round his cell. who did not guess he had been disturbed by a captive as anxious for liberty as himself. and strengthen his thoughts by reasoning. Edmond's brain was still so feeble that he could not bend his thoughts to anything in particular. In the morning the jailer brought him fresh provisions — he had already devoured those of the previous day. The night passed in perfect silence. If. Full of hope. He soon felt that his ideas became again collected — he could think. and his sight was clear. The day passed away in utter silence — night came without recurrence of the noise. He turned his eyes towards the soup which the jailer had brought. detached a stone. Edmond did not close his eyes. but this time his legs did not tremble. it is a prisoner. Edmond swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread and water. an hour passed. "It is a prisoner. If it is a workman. and no sound was heard from the wall — all was silent there. Three days passed — seventy-two long tedious hours which he counted off by minutes! 124 . Edmond listened intently. At the first blow the sound ceased." said Edmond joyfully. raised the vessel to his lips. Edmond replaced on the table the bread he was about to devour. found himself well-nigh recovered. "I must put this to the test. he went to a corner of his dungeon. but as his occupation is sanctioned by the governor. and drank off the contents with a feeling of indescribable pleasure. He struck thrice. and with it knocked against the wall where the sound came.Unfortunately. and returned to his couch — he did not wish to die. He saw but one means of restoring lucidity and clearness to his judgment. He had often heard that shipwrecked persons had died through having eagerly devoured too much food. I need but knock against the wall. At intervals he listened to learn if the noise had not begun again. and. he will cease. restoring vigor and agility to his limbs by exercise. thanks to the vigor of his constitution. and grew impatient at the prudence of the prisoner. on the contrary. as if by magic. two hours passed. Then he said to himself.

a chair. He let the jug fall on the floor. but they were screwed to the wood. a pail. Edmond had all the night to work in. and departed. He moved away. walked up and down his cell to collect his thoughts. Edmond determined to assist the indefatigable laborer. saw by the faint light that penetrated into his cell. and he soon felt that he was working against something very hard. but that had been removed. penetrate the moist cement.At length one evening. but he had too often assured himself of its solidity. leaving the rest on the floor. the window grating was of iron. without giving himself the trouble to remove the fragments of the broken one. advised the prisoner to be more careful. Day came. and then. the prisoner had discovered the danger. a table. 125 . hastily displacing his bed. he had no knife or sharp instrument. and waited for day. with his ear for the hundredth time at the wall. the pail had once possessed a handle. and the jailer went grumblingly to fetch another. and it would have required a screw-driver to take them off. Encouraged by this discovery. the jailer entered. He saw nothing. that he had labored uselessly the previous evening in attacking the stone instead of removing the plaster that surrounded it. All night he heard the subterranean workman. and it broke in pieces. The matter was no longer doubtful. he pushed back his bed. Dantes heard joyfully the key grate in the lock. Dantes. and looked around for anything with which he could pierce the wall. and had substituted a lever for a chisel. The breaking of his jug was too natural an accident to excite suspicion. and with one of the sharp fragments attack the wall. which was to break the jug. and a jug. Dantes concealed two or three of the sharpest fragments in his bed. who continued to mine his way. he listened until the sound of steps died away. and displace a stone. Something was at work on the other side of the wall. Dantes told him that the jug had fallen from his hands while he was drinking. but in the darkness he could not do much. and then went back and listened. as the jailer was visiting him for the last time that night. Dantes had but one resource. fancied he heard an almost imperceptible movement among the stones. The table and chair had nothing. He began by moving his bed. He returned speedily. The bed had iron clamps. All his furniture consisted of a bed.

The jailer was accustomed to pour the contents of the saucepan into Dantes' plate. or half empty. and despondency. and after waiting an hour. he paused. It was one of these he had uncovered. prayer. and the perspiration dried on his forehead. blocks of hewn stone were at intervals imbedded. after eating his soup with a wooden spoon. This time he could not blame Dantes. The fragments of the jug broke. as it spared him the necessity of making another trip. "you can take it away when you bring me my breakfast. "Leave the saucepan. Dantes' entire dinner service consisted of one plate — there was no alternative. this saucepan contained soup for both prisoners. only grumbled. Dantes was beside himself with joy. in removing the cement. it is true. as he entered. Was he to be thus stopped at the beginning. Then he looked about for something to pour the soup into. a mathematician might have calculated that in two years. stepped on it and broke it. He rapidly devoured his food. The wall was built of rough stones. The prisoner reproached himself with not having thus employed the hours he had passed in vain hopes. for Dantes had noticed that it was either quite full. The handle of this saucepan was of iron. He was wrong to leave it there. The jailer. but the jailer was wrong not to have looked before him. with the utmost precaution. and Dantes was able to break it off — in small morsels. Dantes strove to do this with his nails. The jailer always brought Dantes' soup in an iron saucepan." This advice was to the jailer's taste. Now when evening came Dantes put his plate on the ground near the door. among which. During the six years that he had been imprisoned. the jailer. He left the saucepan. and Dantes. lest the jailer should change his mind and 126 .The damp had rendered it friable. Dantes would have given ten years of his life in exchange for it. therefore. to give strength to the structure. but at the end of half an hour he had scraped off a handful. a passage twenty feet long and two feet broad. according as the turnkey gave it to him or to his companion first." said Dantes. and exposing the stone-work. and was he to wait inactive until his fellow workman had completed his task? Suddenly an idea occurred to him — he smiled. what might he not have accomplished? In three days he had succeeded. washed the plate. and which he must remove from its socket. which thus served for every day. and after an hour of useless toil. supposing that the rock was not encountered. might be formed. but they were too weak.

When the hour for his jailer's visit arrived. and placed it in its accustomed place. to dig above or under it. but after two or three hours he encountered an obstacle. wishing to make the best use of his time while he had the means of labor. as it had been for the last three days. then you make me break your plate. He had noticed.return. and employed it as a lever." replied the turnkey." Dantes raised his eyes to heaven and clasped his hands beneath the coverlet. So for the future I hope you will not be so destructive. "you destroy everything. At the dawn of day he replaced the stone. leaving a cavity a foot and a half in diameter. Dantes sighed. my God!" murmured he. however. Then. The turnkey poured his ration of soup into it. he continued to work without ceasing. Dantes carefully collected the plaster. Dantes straightened the handle of the saucepan as well as he could. This beam crossed. the jailer entered and placed the bread on the table. The iron made no impression. "No. and found that it was a beam. the hole Dantes had made. carried it into the corner of his cell. "O my God. This would have been a method of reckoning time. he toiled on all the night without being discouraged. therefore. had not Dantes long ceased to do so. "I have so earnestly prayed to you. and covered it with earth. "Well. He felt more gratitude for the possession of this piece of iron than he had ever felt for anything. that the prisoner on the other side had ceased to labor. no matter. or rather blocked up. he removed his bed. don't you intend to bring me another plate?" said Dantes. inserted the point between the hewn stone and rough stones of the wall. and pour your soup into that. but met with a smooth surface. A slight oscillation showed Dantes that all went well. He listened — all was silent. it was necessary. All day he toiled on untiringly. Having poured out the soup. that I hoped my prayers had been 127 . this was a greater reason for proceeding — if his neighbor would not come to him. Dantes touched it. I shall leave you the saucepan. However. the turnkey retired. pushed his bed against the wall. First you break your jug. Dantes wished to ascertain whether his neighbor had really ceased to work. The unhappy young man had not thought of this. and by the evening he had succeeded in extracting ten handfuls of plaster and fragments of stone. it was evident that his neighbor distrusted him. the government would be ruined. together with the fish — for thrice a week the prisoners were deprived of meat. if all the prisoners followed your example. and lay down. took the handle of the saucepan. At the end of an hour the stone was extricated from the wall. The breakfast consisted of a piece of bread. he would go to his neighbor.

and. sounded hollow and sepulchral in the young man's ears. though the sound of your voice terrifies me." "But of what are you accused?" "Of having conspired to aid the emperor's return." cried Dantes." Dantes shuddered." said he. then?" "He abdicated at Fontainebleau in 1814.heard. Edmond's hair stood on end. my God. After having deprived me of my liberty. "only tell me how high up is your excavation?" "On a level with the floor. 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 deprived me of death. have pity on me. and a jailer is no man to a prisoner — he is a living door. a barrier of flesh and blood adding strength to restraints of oak and iron. "An unhappy prisoner." "Your profession?" "A sailor." said the voice. "Do not dig any more. "Of what country?" "A Frenchman. who made no hesitation in answering. after having recalled me to existence." "How long have you been here?" "Since the 28th of February. "Ah." "Your name?" "Edmond Dantes. Who are you?" "Who are you?" said the voice." 128 . "speak again. 1815. this man had been four years longer than himself in prison." replied Dantes." "What! For the emperor's return? — the emperor is no longer on the throne." "Your crime?" "I am innocent. But how long have you been here that you are ignorant of all this?" "Since 1811. deadened by the distance. and he rose to his knees." "How is it concealed?" "Behind my bed. "In the name of heaven. "I hear a human voice." Edmond had not heard any one speak save his jailer for four or five years. and was sent to the Island of Elba.

for I have got to the end of my strength." said Dantes. guessing instinctively that this man meant to abandon him." "And the corridor?" "On a court."Has your bed been moved since you have been a prisoner?" "No. "Oh." cried Dantes. what is the matter?" cried Dantes. and you will have my death to reproach yourself with." "Oh. for I have not counted the years I have been here. I took the wrong angle. I am a Christian. that I was just nineteen when I was arrested. "I have made a mistake owing to an error in my plans. do not work any more. I swear to you. who you are?" "I am — I am No. the 28th of February. 27. no. "at that age he cannot be a traitor. gained one of the islands near here — the Isle de Daume or the Isle de Tiboulen — and then I should have been safe." "And supposing you had succeeded?" "I should have thrown myself into the sea. but now all is lost. "I swear to you by him who died for us that naught shall induce me to breathe one syllable to my jailers. "I swear to you again." "What does your chamber open on?" "A corridor. and wait until you hear from me. then." "Tell me. but I conjure you do not abandon me. If you do." "You mistrust me." "But then you would be close to the sea?" "That is what I hoped. Edmond fancied he heard a bitter laugh resounding from the depths." cried Dantes. I would allow myself to be hacked in pieces!" 129 . "Oh. that I will dash my brains out against the wall. 1815." "All?" "Yes. no. at least." "Could you have swum so far?" "Heaven would have given me strength." "Not quite twenty-six!" murmured the voice." "Alas!" murmured the voice. stop up your excavation carefully." "I do not know my age. rather than betray you. All I do know is. I took the wall you are mining for the outer wall of the fortress. and have come out fifteen feet from where I intended." "How old are you? Your voice is that of a young man.

"You have done well to speak to me. whom he loved already. perhaps. but 130 . Night came. and ask for my assistance. My father has not yet forgotten me." "Then you will love me. and leave you. You must love somebody?" "No. about to regain his liberty. but God alone knows if she loves me still." "But you will not leave me. and if we cannot escape we will talk. Dantes was on his bed." returned the voice. you will come to me. he would kill him with his water jug. and prayers where two or three are gathered together invoke the mercy of heaven. It seemed to him that thus he better guarded the unfinished opening. you of those whom you love. If you are young. at the worst. The jailer came in the evening. I am alone in the world. dispersed the fragments with the same precaution as before. and pushed his bed back against the wall. for I was about to form another plan. Wait. "Come. or you will let me come to you. pressing his hand on his heart. I only love him and a young girl called Mercedes. for the jailer said. Doubtless there was a strange expression in his eyes. At the slightest noise he bounded towards the door. and I of those whom I love. I will be your son. "to-morrow. All day Dantes walked up and down his cell. We will escape. The jailer went away shaking his head. I shall love you as I loved my father. I will be your comrade. Once or twice the thought crossed his mind that he might be separated from this unknown. I will give you the signal. He then gave himself up to his happiness. He sat down occasionally on his bed. he feared that the emotion of his voice would betray him. He would no longer be alone. He was. but he was about to die of grief and despair when this miraculous noise recalled him to life. but your age reassures me. are you going mad again?" Dantes did not answer." "It is well." These few words were uttered with an accent that left no doubt of his sincerity. I will not forget you. I have a father who is seventy if he yet lives. He would be condemned to die. I am sure. and captivity that is shared is but half captivity. Dantes hoped that his neighbor would profit by the silence to address him. if you are old. and then his mind was made up — when the jailer moved his bed and stooped to examine the opening. he would have a companion." "How long?" "I must calculate our chances. Dantes rose. Plaints made in common are almost prayers.

"Oh. then the shoulders. he saw appear. he threw himself on his knees. yes. Then from the bottom of this passage." In a moment that part of the floor on which Dantes was resting his two hands. just as he removed his bed from the wall. who sprang lightly into his cell. 131 . he drew back smartly. and lastly the body of a man. The next morning." "I can work. this instant. suddenly gave way. while a mass of stones and earth disappeared in a hole that opened beneath the aperture he himself had formed. "Is it you?" said he. then?" said the voice. as he knelt with his head in the opening." "Is your jailer gone?" "Yes. yes. he heard three knocks." said Dantes.he was mistaken. the depth of which it was impossible to measure. first the head. I entreat you. so that we have twelve hours before us. however. "I am here. "he will not return until the evening.

Large drops of perspiration were now standing on his brow. fitting it into its place. he stooped and raised the stone easily in spite of its weight. penetrating eye. His thin face." "Why. He was a man of small stature. as though his chilled affections were rekindled and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent. betokened a man more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties than his physical strength." said he. Seizing in his arms the friend so long and ardently desired. deeply furrowed by care. in order to obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the imperfect light that struggled through the grating. Dantes almost carried him towards the window." exclaimed Dantes.Chapter 16 A Learned Italian. 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. 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. then. "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. but I suppose you had no tools to aid you. "whether it is possible to remove the traces of my entrance here — our future tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely ignorant of it. almost buried beneath the thick gray eyebrow. — "You removed this stone very carelessly. He received the enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident pleasure. and the bold outline of his strongly marked features. he said. The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty-five years. and a long (and still black) beard reaching down to his breast. with astonishment. He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly welcome." Advancing to the opening. with hair blanched rather by suffering and sorrow than by age. He had a deep-set. "do you possess any?" 132 .

pincers. and were we to work our way through. unfortunately. he displayed a sharp strong blade. The fourth and last side of your cell faces on — faces on — stop a minute." "Well. as I told you. for I find that the corridor looks into a courtyard filled with soldiers. I have all that are necessary. instead of taking an ellipsis of forty feet. to reach the outer wall. as many years to perforate it. "And with what did you contrive to make that?" inquired Dantes. I expected. kept along the corridor on which your chamber opens. "but the corridor you speak of only bounds one side of my cell. and this very tool has sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I came hither. with a handle made of beechwood." said Dantes."I made myself some. "Do not speak so loud. for want of the necessary geometrical instruments to calculate my scale of proportion. however. It frequently occurs in a state prison like this. in the first place. instead of going beneath it." So saying. My labor is all in vain." "Oh." "And you say that you dug your way a distance of fifty feet to get here?" "I do. duly furnished with the requisite tools. how I should like to see these products of your industry and patience. I have." "That's true." "Fifty feet!" responded Dantes. here is my chisel. young man — don't speak so loud. and it would take ten experienced miners. and throw myself into the sea. "With one of the clamps of my bedstead. a distance of about fifty feet. I made it fifty. where we must necessarily be recaptured." "That makes no difference. — a chisel. which gradually diminished in size as it approached the outside. I did not curve aright. and lever. only. that persons are stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely to overhear the conversation of the prisoners. almost terrified. that is about the distance that separates your chamber from mine. pierce through it." "But they believe I am shut up alone here. there are three others — do you know anything of their situation?" "This one is built against the solid rock. This adjoins the lower part of the governor's apartments. to an opening 133 . we should only get into some lock-up cellars. This loophole. now where does it face?" The wall of which he spoke was the one in which was fixed the loophole by which light was admitted to the chamber. and with the exception of a file.

This side of your chamber looks out upon a kind of open gallery. saying. "the will of God be done!" and as the old man slowly pronounced those words." "Willingly. "never have I met with so remarkable a person as yourself." answered the elder prisoner. "it is so. "if. he managed to slip his head between the upper bars of the window. mounted on the table. for I was fearful he might also see me. The elder prisoner pondered the matter. indeed. As the stranger asked the question. where patrols are continually passing." pursued the young man eagerly — "Then. who and what you are?" said he at length. then." answered the stranger." "Are you quite sure of that?" "Certain. climbed from the table to the outstretched hands of Dantes. was. and from them to his shoulders. and. The stranger. placed his back securely against the wall and held out both hands. I saw the soldier's shape and the top of his musket. "What was it that you thought?" asked the young man anxiously. alas. an air of profound resignation spread itself over his careworn countenance. sprang up with an agility by no means to be expected in a person of his years. that made me draw in my head so quickly. and sentries keep watch day and night. Dantes gazed on the man who could thus philosophically resign hopes so long and ardently nourished with an astonishment mingled with admiration. in his turn descending from the table. and. furnished with three iron bars. light and steady on his feet as a cat or a lizard. The young man obeyed. he dragged the table beneath the window. for the ceiling of the dungeon prevented him from holding himself erect." "Well?" inquired Dantes." said he at length. bending double. you feel any curiosity respecting one. for better security. he nimbly leaped from the table to the ground.through which a child could not have passed. powerless to aid you in any way. now. I entreat of you. An instant afterwards he hastily drew back his head. whom as yet Dantes knew only by the number of his cell. "I thought so!" and sliding from the shoulders of Dantes as dextrously as he had ascended. "Yes." 134 . divining the wishes of his companion." said he to Dantes. so as to quiet all apprehensions even in the mind of the most suspicious jailer as to the possibility of a prisoner's escape. "Tell me. so as to be able to command a perfect view from top to bottom. "You perceive then the utter impossibility of escaping through your dungeon?" "Then. "Climb up.

" replied Faria. who feigned to enter into my views only to betray me. compact. In the year 1811 I was transferred to Piedmont in France. After Charles I.. each held by some weak or tyrannical ruler. you can console and support me by the strength of your own powerful mind. and. and then James II. "I am the Abbe Faria." continued he. named king of Rome even in his cradle. Ah. then a constitution. because. some Prince of Orange. and Clement VII.. and have been imprisoned as you know in this Chateau d'If since the year 1811." said he. Then new concessions to the people. "you are young. Pray let me know who you really are?" The stranger smiled a melancholy smile. Charles II.. and I fancy myself at liberty. turning towards Dantes. yes. It was at this period I learned that the destiny which seemed subservient to every wish formed by Napoleon. "Then listen. but it will never succeed now. 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.?" "No. and instead of allowing it to be split up into a quantity of petty principalities. you will see all this come to pass. It was the plan of Alexander VI. and powerful empire. "we are prisoners. and there are even moments when my mental vision transports me beyond these walls. I sought to form one large." "But wherefore are you here?" "Because in 1807 I dreamed of the very plan Napoleon tried to realize in 1811. a stadtholder who becomes a king. that four years afterwards. lastly. this colossus of power would be overthrown. "'Twill be the same as it was in England. my friend!" said the abbe. but I forget this sometimes. and then some son-in-law or relation. had bestowed on him a son." "The brother of Louis XVII. Cromwell. if ever I get out of prison!" "True."Say not so. I desired to alter the political face of Italy. previously to which I had been confined for three years in the fortress of Fenestrelle. namely. Louis XVIII. for they attempted it 135 . because I fancied I had found my Caesar Borgia in a crowned simpleton. and surveying him with the kindling gaze of a prophet. like Machiavelli. after Cromwell.! How inscrutable are the ways of providence — for what great and mysterious purpose has it pleased heaven to abase the man once so elevated. I was very far then from expecting the change you have just informed me of.. then liberty." "Probably. "Yes. Then who reigns in France at this moment — Napoleon II.

and I consider it impious to attempt that which the Almighty evidently does not approve." Dantes remained for a short time mute and motionless. and Napoleon was unable to complete his work. that I scarcely think it would be possible to add another handful of dust without leading to discovery. hard as granite itself. I was four years making the tools I possess." he asked. 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. In the first place. and. he knew nothing.fruitlessly. Dantes could not understand a man risking his life for such matters. inasmuch as he had seen and spoken with him. at length he said." answered Dantes. Consider also that I fully believed I had accomplished the end and aim of my undertaking. "the priest who here in the Chateau d'If is generally thought to be — ill?" "Mad. it shows how little notion you can have of all it has cost me to effect a purpose so unexpectedly frustrated. Italy seems fated to misfortune. if such innocent beings could be found in an abode devoted like this to suffering and despair. then. considering my labor well repaid if. — "Then you abandon all hope of escape?" "I perceive its utter impossibility. smiling. "Are you not. by night-time I had contrived to carry away a square inch of this hardbound cement. but of Clement VII. Whole days have I passed in these Titanic efforts. don't you?" "I did not like to say so." And the old man bowed his head. you mean. I was compelled to break through a staircase. "Well. changed by ages into a substance unyielding as the stones themselves. Napoleon certainly he knew something of. "let me answer your question in full. and Alexander VI. but the well is now so completely choked up." resumed Faria with a bitter smile. then what toil and fatigue has it not been to remove huge stones I should once have deemed impossible to loosen. for many years permitted to amuse the different visitors with what is said to be my insanity. for which I had so exactly husbanded my strength as to make it just hold out 136 ." "Nay. and have been two years scraping and digging out earth. I should be promoted to the honor of making sport for the children. then to conceal the mass of earth and rubbish I dug up. by acknowledging that I am the poor mad prisoner of the Chateau d'If. in all probability. be not discouraged. that you talk of beginning over again. and throw the fruits of my labor into the hollow part of it.

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. supposing all these perils past. had devoted three years to the task. that nothing shall induce me to renew attempts evidently at variance with the Almighty's pleasure. Rattonneau. Dantes would dig a hundred. continued in the water for more than twice as long! At once Dantes resolved to follow the brave example of his energetic companion. hesitate to entertain the same project? He could do it in an hour. would conduct you to a precipice overhanging the sea — to plunge into the waves from the height of fifty. This same person. Faria. perhaps a hundred feet. Faria. why. like himself. resigning himself rather to death. who had so often for mere amusement's sake plunged to the bottom of the sea to fetch up the bright coral branch. and inspired him with new the termination of my enterprise. and had failed only because of an error in calculation. older and less strong than he. at the risk of being dashed to pieces against the rocks. There are. with almost incredible patience and perseverance. 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. for pure pastime. shrink from a similar task. some things which appear so impossible that the mind does not dwell on them for an instant." Dantes held down his head. should a hardy sailer. and how many times had he. Another. To undermine the ground for fifty feet — to devote three years to a labor which. my hopes are forever dashed from me. and even. should he. gave a fresh turn to his ideas. should you have been fortunate enough to have escaped the fire of the sentinels. or Lemaire. an experienced diver. at the moment when I reckoned upon success. indeed. a priest and savant. 137 . But the sight of an old man clinging to life with so desperate a courage. Another had done all this. No. 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. Escape had never once occurred to him. who was but half as old. had contrived to provide himself with tools requisite for so unparalleled an attempt. would sacrifice six. sixty. if successful. had attempted what he had not had sufficient resolution to undertake. and now. I repeat again. he. and to remember that what has once been done may be done again. then. was it impossible to Dantes? Faria had dug his way through fifty feet. The abbe sank upon Edmond's bed. at the age of fifty. while Edmond himself remained standing.

" replied Faria. neither do I wish to incur guilt. I have thought it no sin to bore through a wall. dressing yourself in his clothes. does it not?" "It does. All we require to insure success is courage. "I have found what you were in search of!" Faria started: "Have you. you have abundantly proved yours — you shall now see me prove mine. and strength. extends in the same direction as the outer gallery. "that where your liberty is at stake you can allow any such scruple to deter you from obtaining it?" "Tell me. indeed?" cried he." replied the abbe. or destroy a staircase. let me know what it is you have discovered?" "The corridor through which you have bored your way from the cell you occupy here. as it were the top part of a cross. the young man suddenly exclaimed. This time you will lay your plans more accurately. "do you think yourself more guilty in making the attempt since you have encountered me?" "No. "what has hindered you from knocking down your jailer with a piece of wood torn from your bedstead. and what use I intend making of my strength. and that you possess.After continuing some time in profound meditation." said he. I will tell you what we must do. and every night renewing the task of the day." "And have your notions changed?" asked Dantes with much surprise. "it is clear you do not understand the nature of the courage with which I am endowed. We must pierce through the corridor by forming a side opening about the middle. 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. I consider that I have abundantly exercised that in beginning every morning the task of the night before." "And is not above fifteen feet from it?" "About that. and make our escape. but I cannot so easily persuade myself to pierce a heart or take away a life. But then. which I am not deficient in. As for patience. and merited not condemnation. we shall get out into the gallery you have described." "One instant. young man (and I pray of you to give me your full attention). "Is it possible. my dear friend. "pray. then. as for patience. not men." "Well. and endeavoring to escape?" 138 . raising his head with quick anxiety." A slight movement of surprise escaped Dantes. kill the sentinel who guards it. Hitherto I have fancied myself merely waging war against circumstances.

you had your hopes to refresh and encourage you. Faria saw this." "What did you do then?" "I wrote or studied." said Faria. whose nature teaches him to delight in shedding blood. wait patiently for some favorable moment. for there are two distinct sorts of ideas." replied the old man." said the old man. The tiger. "I will show you an entire work. but man. "the natural repugnance to the commission of such a crime prevented you from thinking of it." "I assure you. Those that have been crowned with full success have been long meditated upon. on the contrary. Let us. for instance." answered Dantes. and those are the best of all. and when it presents itself. as the escape of the Duc de Beaufort from the Chateau de Vincennes. of Latude from the Bastille." "Were you then permitted the use of pens. profit by it." answered the abbe. and when weary with toil. therefore. my young friend. but he had some difficulty in believing." Dantes gazed with admiration. or rather soul. no. and paper?" "Oh. needs but the sense of smell to show him when his prey is within his reach." "You made paper. 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. "Since my imprisonment. Then there are those for which chance sometimes affords opportunity." said Dantes." "Ah. and so it ever is because in simple and allowable things our natural instincts keep us from deviating from the strict line of duty. that of the Abbe Dubuquoi from For l'Eveque. "you might well endure the tedious delay. "I did not turn to that source for recreation or support. "Because. and carefully arranged. loathes the idea of blood — it is not alone that the laws of social life inspire him with a shrinking dread of taking life. such. ink. "I have thought over all the most celebrated cases of escape on record. They have rarely been successful. pens and ink?" "Yes. those that proceed from the head and those that emanate from the heart. the fruits of the thoughts and reflections of my 139 ."Simply the fact that the idea never occurred to me. "I had none but what I made for myself. you were constantly employed in the task you set yourself. "When you pay me a visit in my cell." said he. and by following this instinct he is enabled to measure the leap necessary to permit him to spring on his victim.

so that since I have been in prison. Xenophon. Plutarch. a very slight effort of memory has enabled me to recall their contents as readily as though the pages were open before me. and Spanish." "And on what have you written all this?" "On two of my shirts. Shaksepeare. I know Lavoisier. doubtless. at the foot of St. a chemist?" "Somewhat. Strada. how can you manage to do so?" "Why. I found out that with one hundred and fifty well-chosen books a man possesses.whole life. Machiavelli. "why. I made a vocabulary of the words I knew. The work I speak of is called `A Treatise on the Possibility of a General Monarchy in Italy. I could recite you the whole of Thucydides. then. which is all that is absolutely necessary. I know nearly one thousand words. and Bossuet. but I am still trying to improve myself. Mark's column at Venice. who almost fancied he had to do with one gifted with supernatural powers. Spinoza. and was the intimate friend of Cabanis. I devoted three years of my life to reading and studying these one hundred and fifty volumes." "But for such a work you must have needed books — had you any?" "I had nearly five thousand volumes in my library at Rome. Titus Livius. till I knew them nearly by heart. acquainted with a variety of languages. if not a complete summary of all human knowledge. but after reading them over many times." "You are. turned. Tacitus." "Improve yourself!" repeated Dantes. and on the borders of the Arno at Florence. still hoping to find some 140 .' and will make one large quarto volume. and arranged them. and that would be quite as much as I should ever require. returned. at least all that a man need really know. I cannot hope to be very fluent." "You are. Dante. I speak five of the modern tongues — that is to say. French. little imagining at the time that they would be arranged in order within the walls of the Chateau d'If. but I certainly should have no difficulty in explaining my wants and wishes. Montaigne. so as to enable me to express my thoughts through their medium." Stronger grew the wonder of Dantes. I name only the most important. Italian. by the aid of ancient Greek I learned modern Greek — I don't speak it so well as I could wish. although I believe there are nearly one hundred thousand in the dictionaries. English. so as to have been able to read all these?" "Yes. German. I invented a preparation that makes linen as smooth and as easy to write on as parchment. Jornandes. many of them meditated over in the shades of the Coloseum at Rome.

then let it be directly!" exclaimed the young man. "but it was closed up long ere I became an occupant of this prison." asked Dantes." replied the abbe. and traversing at will the path of history I cease to remember that I am myself a prisoner. "of what did you make your ink?" "There was formerly a fireplace in my dungeon. followed by Dantes. Well." "And when. which would be universally preferred to all others if once known. While retracing the past. 141 . this soot I dissolved in a portion of the wine brought to me every Sunday. he added. "may I see all this?" "Whenever you please. "Oh. and wrote with my own blood. it must have been many years in use. and you can scarcely imagine the delight with which I welcomed the arrival of each Wednesday. how did you manage to write the work you speak of?" "I made myself some excellent ones." "But the ink. as affording me the means of increasing my stock of pens. I pricked one of my fingers. and Saturday. I selected the cartilages of the heads of these fishes. "Follow me. for I will freely confess that my historical labors have been my greatest solace and relief. For very important notes. You are aware what huge whitings are served to us on maigre days. as he re-entered the subterranean passage. Still.imperfection which might bring him down to a level with human beings." replied Faria. and I assure you a better ink cannot be desired." said the abbe. Friday. for which closer attention is required. for it was thickly covered with a coating of soot. I forget the present. "Then if you were not furnished with pens. then. in which he soon disappeared." said Dantes.

by means of these lines. from seeing the sun rise from behind the mountains and set in the Mediterranean. while the sun and earth never vary in their appointed paths. Well. 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 worthy of digging out as the gold and diamonds in the mines of Guzerat and Golconda. into which the abbe's cell opened. appeared to him perfectly impossible." said the abbe." said the abbe. however. and the ellipse it describes round the sun. The floor of the abbe's cell was paved. As he entered the chamber of his friend.Chapter 17 The Abbe's Chamber. Dantes cast around one eager and searching glance in quest of the expected marvels. but nothing more than common met his view. After having passed with tolerable ease through the subterranean passage. and not the earth." Instinctively Dantes turned round to observe by what watch or clock the abbe had been able so accurately to specify the hour. and of which he could feel nothing. 142 . A double movement of the globe he inhabited. which are in accordance with the double motion of the earth. I am enabled to ascertain the precise hour with more minuteness than if I possessed a watch. from that point the passage became much narrower. "It is well." This last explanation was wholly lost upon Dantes. "and then observe the lines traced on the wall. Each word that fell from his companion's lips seemed fraught with the mysteries of science. which. "Look at this ray of light which enters by my window. the two friends reached the further end of the corridor. and barely permitted one to creep through on hands and knees. who had always imagined. that it moved. for that might be broken or deranged in its movements. "we have some hours before us — it is now just a quarter past twelve o'clock. did not admit of their holding themselves erect.

That's my masterpiece. 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. "Ah. "Oh." "Look!" said Faria. and much resembling the size of the handle of a fine painting-brush. as well as this larger knife. to the end of which was tied. "Come. "Now let me behold the curious pens with which you have written your work. and." said he to the abbe. I have torn up two of my shirts. I made it. laid one over the other. beneath which was a cavity of considerable depth. Dantes examined it with intense admiration. then looked around to see the instrument with which it had been shaped so correctly into form. and divided at the nib like an ordinary pen. by a piece of thread. which had doubtless been the hearth." The abbe smiled. "There. a language he. a long stone. they were all carefully numbered and closely covered with writing." said Faria. showing to the young man a slender stick about six inches long. These rolls consisted of slips of cloth about four inches wide and eighteen long." The penknife was sharp and keen as a razor. to complete the precious pages. as a Provencal. your great work on the monarchy of Italy!" Faria then drew forth from his hiding-place three or four rolls of linen. it was pointed. out of an old iron candlestick. like folds of papyrus. raised. so legible that Dantes could easily read it." "I see. proceeding to the disused fireplace. Should I ever get out of prison and find in all Italy a printer courageous enough to publish what I have composed. yes. my literary reputation is forever secured. "I am anxious to see your treasures. as for the other knife. "there is the work complete. as well as make out the sense — it being in Italian. by the help of his chisel. serving as a safe depository of the articles mentioned to Dantes. 143 . perfectly understood.which he could just recollect having visited during a voyage made in his earliest youth. it would serve a double purpose. and as many handkerchiefs as I was master of. "What do you wish to see first?" asked the abbe. one of those cartilages of which the abbe had before spoken to Dantes. and with it one could cut and thrust." answered Dantes." said he. "the penknife. I wrote the word finis at the end of the sixty-eighth strip about a week ago.

" said Faria. for heaven's sake. as I require it. Dantes closely and eagerly examined it. and compact enough to bear any weight. the abbe exhibited a sort of torch very similar to those used in public illuminations. are your eyes like cats'. rubbed his foot well on it to make it assume the same appearance as the other. so that I have been able to finish my work here. was a hollow space. and when I was removed to the Chateau d'If." observed Dantes. he found it firm. but God his supplied man with the intelligence that enables him to overcome the limitations of natural conditions. I managed to bring the ravellings with me." "And was it not discovered that your sheets were unhemmed?" 144 . Behind the head of the bed. that you can see to work in the dark?" "Indeed they are not. and so made oil — here is my lamp. and asked for a little sulphur." "One thing still puzzles me. melted it. the abbe sprinkled a little dust over it to conceal the traces of its having been removed."As for the ink. and stood with his head drooping on his breast. and then. solid. I furnished myself with a light." "You did? Pray tell me how." "I separated the fat from the meat served to me. "for I did not think it wise to trust all my treasures in the same hiding-place. Let us shut this one up." "And matches?" "I pretended that I had a disorder of the skin. "Who supplied you with the materials for making this wonderful work?" "I tore up several of my shirts. going towards his bed. as though overwhelmed by the perseverance and strength of Faria's mind. which was readily supplied. "Night! — why. during my three years' imprisonment at Fenestrelle. and ripped out the seams in the sheets of my bed." They put the stone back in its place." replied Faria. "and that is how you managed to do all this by daylight?" "I worked at night also. he removed it from the spot it stood in. "You have not seen all yet." continued Faria. "I told you how I managed to obtain that — and I only just make it from time to time. "But light?" "Here are two flints and a piece of burnt linen." Dantes laid the different things he had been looking at on the table. and concealed by a stone fitting in so closely as to defy all suspicion." So saying. and in this space a ladder of cords between twenty-five and thirty feet in length.

lightning. which."Oh. and I therefore renounced the project altogether as too full of risk and danger. I carefully preserved my ladder against one of those unforeseen opportunities of which I spoke just now. the overflow of my brain would probably. "of removing these iron bars. however. for when I had taken out the thread I required. "I know nothing." continued Faria." replied Dantes. I hemmed the edges over again. as." The abbe smiled. illumination. in the first place. is somewhat wider than yours. imputing the deep abstraction in which his visitor was plunged to the excess of his awe and wonder. Nevertheless. opening his ragged vestments. I discovered that I should merely have dropped into a sort of inner court. "upon the enormous degree of intelligence and ability you must have employed to reach the high perfection to which you have attained." "No. What would you not have accomplished if you had been free?" "Possibly nothing at all. Compression is needed to explode gunpowder. You must be blessed indeed to possess the knowledge you have. have evaporated in a thousand follies. where he himself could see nothing. no. "but you had another subject for your thoughts. although I should have enlarged it still more preparatory to my flight. and you are well aware that from the collision of clouds electricity is produced — from electricity. the mind of Dantes was. sharp fish-bone." said the abbe. Some of your words are to me quite empty of meaning. ingenious. "What are you thinking of?" asked the abbe smilingly. misfortune is needed to bring to light the treasures of the human intellect. busily occupied by the idea that a person so intelligent. "I was reflecting. and which sudden chance frequently brings about. as you see. "Well. "I once thought. did you not say so just now?" "I did!" "You have told me as yet but one of them — let me hear the other." replied Dantes. a small portion of which still remained in it. he showed Dantes a long." While affecting to be deeply engaged in examining the ladder. Captivity has brought my mental faculties to a focus. in fact." 145 . in a state of freedom. and clear-sighted as the abbe might probably be able to solve the dark mystery of his own misfortunes." said he. from lightning." "With what?" "With this needle. and letting myself down from the window. with a small perforated eye for the thread.

— to whom could your disappearance have been serviceable?" "To no one. and this I swear by the two beings most dear to me upon earth. in a right and wholesome state." "Then you profess ignorance of the crime with which you are charged?" "I do. human nature. closing his hiding-place. with the death of Captain Leclere. which bears upon what I was saying to you some little while ago. his interview with that personage. "a clever maxim. Now." Dantes obeyed." said the abbe. his temporary detention at the Palais de Justice. and interview with his father — his affection for Mercedes. and the receipt of a packet to be delivered by himself to the grand marshal. not even the length of time he had been imprisoned. and pushing the bed back to its original situation. that unless wicked ideas take root in a naturally depraved mind. From this point everything was a blank to Dantes — he knew nothing more. at the end of his meditations. revolts at crime. "let me hear your story. and that is."It was this. in place of the packet brought. seek first to discover the person to whom the perpetration of that bad action could be in any way advantageous. and two or three voyages to the Levant until he arrived at the recital of his last cruise. Still. vices. and ultimately to lead us into guilt and wickedness. and commenced what he called his history. my young friend. a letter addressed to a Monsieur Noirtier — his arrival at Marseilles." said he. I would fain fix the source of it on man that I may no longer vent reproaches upon heaven." "It has been long enough to inflict on me a great and undeserved misfortune. comes the axiom that if you visit to discover the author of any bad action. you were perfectly unacquainted with mine. His recital finished. then." 146 . From this view of things. and their nuptual feast — his arrest and subsequent examination." "Come. by heaven! I was a very insignificant person. — my father and Mercedes. "There is. — that while you had related to me all the particulars of your past life. has not been of sufficient length to admit of your having passed through any very important events." "Your life. indeed. to apply it in your case. the abbe reflected long and earnestly. and false tastes. which occasionally become so powerful as to stifle within us all good feelings. but which consisted only of the account of a voyage to India. and his final imprisonment in the Chateau d'If. and his receiving. from an artificial civilization have originated wants.

these twelve thousand livres are his civil list. should you have retained him in his employment?" "Not if the choice had remained with me. from the highest to the lowest degree. to the employee who keeps his rival out of a place." "Good again! Now then. was any person present during your last conversation with Captain Leclere?" "No. the supernumerary steps into his shoes. so that we have a spiral which in defiance of reason rests upon the apex and not on the base. What say you?" "I cannot believe such was the case. I had quarelled with him some time previously. But these forces increase as we go higher. and is beset by stormy passions and conflicting interests. Now. has his place on the social ladder. as in Descartes' theory of pressure and impulsion." "And had you been captain." "Could your conversation have been overheard by any one?" 147 . from the king who stands in the way of his successor. There was only one person among the crew who had any feeling of ill-will towards me. Every one. and receives his salary of twelve thousand livres." "What rank did he hold on board?" "He was supercargo. I was generally liked on board. Well. Now let us return to your particular world. and had the sailors possessed the right of selecting a captain themselves. for your reply evinces neither logic nor philosophy. and had even challenged him to fight me. everything is relative. we were quite alone. my dear young friend."Do not speak thus." "And about to become the husband of a young and lovely girl?" "Yes. 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. for I had frequently observed inaccuracies in his accounts. tell me." "Now we are getting on. but he refused. And what was this man's name?" "Danglars. and are as essential to him as the twelve millions of a king. — when the employee dies. You say you were on the point of being made captain of the Pharaon?" "Yes. I feel convinced their choice would have fallen on me. in the event of the king's death." "Now. his successor inherits a crown.

that one Edmond Dantes. "now we are on the right scent. again." cried the abbe." "And what did you do with this same letter while returning from Porto-Ferrajo to the vessel?" "I carried it in my hand. Did you take anybody with you when you put into the port of Elba?" "Nobody. I read it over three times. for the cabin door was open — and — stay. and gave you a letter in place of it. or in his cabin on board the 148 . mate on board the Pharaon. listen to me. everybody could see that you held a letter in your hand?" "Yes. has been intrusted by Murat with a packet for the usurper."It might." "So that when you went on board the Pharaon. the grand marshal did. after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo. and try to recall every circumstance attending your arrest. this day arrived from Smyrna. "This is it. as well as the rest?" "Danglars. then said. Do you recollect the words in which the information against you was formulated?" "Oh yes." "Now. it was left on board." "Repeat it to me. This proof of his guilt may be procured by his immediate arrest. by the usurper. as the letter will be found either about his person." Dantes paused a moment. — Danglars himself passed by just as Captain Leclere was giving me the packet for the grand marshal. I think?" "Yes. then? Now. with a letter for the Bonapartist Club in Paris." "Somebody there received your packet." "Then it was not till your return to the ship that you put the letter in the portfolio?" "No. how could a sailor find room in his pocket for a portfolio large enough to contain an official letter?" "You are right." "That's better. and the words sank deeply into my memory." "And what did you do with that letter?" "Put it into my portfolio." "Danglars. as well as others. word for word: `The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and religion. now I recollect." "You had your portfolio with you. at his father's residence.

" said the abbe. "the various circumstances mentioned in the letter were wholly unknown to him." "That is in strict accordance with the Spanish character. that performed with the left hand is invariably uniform. taking up what he called his pen." 149 ." "Let us proceed." "You imagine him capable of writing the letter?" "Oh. the first two or three words of the accusation." "You have evidently seen and observed everything." "Oh. and. "Why your writing exactly resembles that of the accusation. yes!" "Now as regards the second question.'" The abbe shrugged his shoulders." "And how was the anonymous letter written?" "Backhanded. Dantes drew back. not to have suspected the origin of the whole affair." said Dantes." "That is a Spanish name. never. after dipping it into the ink. a young man who loved her." "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 would indeed be infamous. but an act of cowardice." "Was there any person whose interest it was to prevent your marriage with Mercedes?" "Yes. "Disguised. "How very astonishing!" cried he at length." "It was very boldly written. an assassination they will unhesitatingly commit.Pharaon." "Besides. no." "Stop a bit. as well as a good heart. running hand." "And his name was" — "Fernand." "Do you really think so? Ah. "and you must have had a very confiding nature. if disguised. and gazed on the abbe with a sensation almost amounting to terror. yes." "How did Danglars usually write?" "In a handsome. with his left hand. he wrote on a piece of prepared linen." Again the abbe smiled. he would more likely have got rid of me by sticking a knife into me. "The thing is clear as day." "I am listening." said he. I think?" "He was a Catalan.

"I would beg of you." responded the abbe." "Pray ask me whatever questions you please. ink. "Yes. that on the table round which they were sitting were pens. then. but Fernand looked pale and agitated." "Wait a little. not even to my betrothed. "Is there anything else I can assist you in discovering. They were in earnest conversation. Pray. to explain to me how it was that I underwent no second examination. and who had. his deputy." "Then it is Danglars. but he was very drunk. in all probability made their acquaintance. for. besides the villany of your friends?" inquired the abbe with a laugh. was condemned without ever having had sentence passed on me?" "That is altogether a different and more serious matter. yes. All we have hitherto done in the matter has been child's play."You had never spoken of them yourself to any one?" "To no one. he was a tailor named Caderousse. you must assist me by the most minute information on every point. If you wish me to enter upon the more difficult part of the business. was never brought to trial. you see more clearly into my life than I do myself. treacherous scoundrels!" exclaimed Dantes. was Danglars acquainted with Fernand?" "No — yes. Danglars was joking in a friendly way. the heartless." "I feel quite sure of it now. who see so completely to the depths of things. Now I recollect" — "What?" "To have seen them both sitting at table together under an arbor at Pere Pamphile's the evening before the day fixed for my wedding." "Not even to your mistress?" "No." "Were they alone?" "There was a third person with them whom I knew perfectly well. or a magistrate?" "The deputy. in good truth. who examined you. Oh. and paper. "The ways of justice are frequently too dark and mysterious to be easily penetrated. Stay! — stay! — How strange that it should not have occurred to me before! Now I remember quite well. and. and to whom the greatest mystery seems but an easy riddle. pressing his hand to his throbbing brows." "In the first place." "Was he young or old?" 150 . he was." replied Dantes eagerly. — the king's attorney. above all.

and. the letter." "You think so?" "I am sure of it. let us go on. "Old enough to be ambitions. `You see I thus destroy the only proof existing against you. it is not altogether impossible he might have had. I should say." "With all my heart! You tell me he burned the letter?" "He did."About six or seven and twenty years of age. "you make me shudder. saying at the same time." answered the abbe." "And that?" "He burnt the sole evidence that could at all have criminated me." "That alters the case." "Now can you conceive of any interest that your heroic deputy could possibly have had in the destruction of that letter?" "Why." "Upon my word. He seemed quite overcome by my misfortune. 13 Coq-Heron. And how did he treat you?" "With more of mildness than severity. assuring me he so advised me for my own interest. but too young to be corrupt. Is the world filled with tigers and crocodiles?" "Yes." "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. after all. To whom was this letter addressed?" "To M." "By your misfortune?" "Yes." "Are you sure?" "I saw it done. at any rate." "Then you feel quite sure that it was your misfortune he deplored?" "He gave me one great proof of his sympathy. more than this. Noirtier. No.'" "This action is somewhat too sublime to be natural. be a greater scoundrel than you have thought possible." "What? the accusation?" "No. This man might." "So." said Dantes. for he made me promise several times never to speak of that letter to any one." "Did you tell him your whole story?" "I did. and remember that two-legged tigers and crocodiles are more dangerous than the others. Paris. he 151 ." "Never mind.

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." "Why. The change that had come over Villefort during the examination." "And then made you swear never to utter the name of Noirtier?" "Yes. then he hurried to the opening that led from the abbe's cell to his own. his father." "Well. "Do you see that ray of sunlight?" "I do. dumb and motionless as a statue." replied the abbe. while Dantes gazed on him in utter astonishment. which to him had seemed only minutes. he clasped his hands around his head as though to prevent his very brain from bursting." "And the worthy man destroyed your compromising letter?" "Yes. "his right name was Noirtier de Villefort. 152 . and staggered against the wall like a drunken man. sitting with fixed gaze and contracted features.insisted on my taking a solemn oath never to utter the name mentioned in the address." At this instant a bright light shot through the mind of Dantes. and said. the destruction of the letter." When he regained his dungeon. who had been a Girondin during the Revolution! What was your deputy called?" "De Villefort!" The abbe burst into a fit of laughter. the exacted promise. "His father! his father!" "Yes. During these hours of profound meditation. "Noirtier! — I knew a person of that name at the court of the Queen of Etruria. Starting up. can you not guess who this Noirtier was. he threw himself on his bed. and cleared up all that had been dark and obscure before. He cried out." Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of Dantes. — all returned with a stunning force to his memory. whose very name he was so careful to keep concealed? Noirtier was his father. to think over all this." "Noirtier!" repeated the abbe. "What ails you?" said he at length. "I must be alone. and exclaimed. who seemed rather to implore mercy than to pronounce punishment. where the turnkey found him in the evening visit. you poor short-sighted simpleton. 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. — a Noirtier. the almost supplicating tones of the magistrate.

but it was never egotistical. but. or applied to the sort of knowledge his nautical life had enabled him to acquire.he had formed a fearful resolution. Dantes was at length roused from his revery by the voice of Faria." said he. had procured for the abbe unusual privileges. He was supplied with bread of a finer. who. contained many useful and important hints as well as sound information. his features were no longer contracted. and gave fantastic glimpses of new horizons. and even regaled each Sunday with a small quantity of wine. The elder prisoner was one of those persons whose conversation. where he was so much at home. for the unfortunate man never alluded to his own sorrows. but there was that in his whole appearance that bespoke one who had come to a fixed and desperate resolve. however. my boy." The abbe smiled. I promise you never to mention another word about escaping." "Why so?" inquired Dantes. 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. were wholly incomprehensible to him. and now wore their usual expression. whiter quality than the usual prison fare. The reputation of being out of his mind. or having given you the information I did. Faria bent on him his penetrating eye: "I regret now. Now this was a Sunday. "Let us talk of something else. then mournfully shook his head. and the abbe had come to ask his young companion to share the luxuries with him. 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. "Because it has instilled a new passion in your heart — that of vengeance. If you will only agree to my request. some of his remarks corresponded with what he already knew. 153 . Dantes listened with admiring attention to all he said. "You must teach me a small part of what you know. Dantes followed." Dantes smiled." said he. "if only to prevent your growing weary of me." said he. like the aurora which guides the navigator in northern latitudes. opened new vistas to the inquiring mind of the listener. Again the abbe looked at him. but in accordance with Dantes' request." said Dantes. having also been visited by his jailer. he began to speak of other matters. "Alas. "having helped you in your late inquiries. had come to invite his fellowsufferer to share his supper. like that of all who have experienced many trials. and bound himself to its fulfilment by a solemn oath. though harmlessly and even amusingly so. A part of the good abbe's words.

it is like the golden cloud in which the Messiah went up into heaven. history. there are the learners and the learned. "What shall you teach me first? I am in a hurry to begin."human knowledge is confined within very narrow limits. however." "But cannot one learn philosophy?" "Philosophy cannot be taught. one thought seemed incessantly to harass and distract his mind. physics. Memory makes the one. combined with an astonishing quickness and readiness of conception. to learn is not to know. in spite of the relief his society afforded. so that at the end of six months he began to speak Spanish. Now. you will know as much as I do myself. and when I have taught you mathematics. begin pacing the confined space of his dungeon. And that very evening the prisoners sketched a plan of education. At the end of a year Dantes was a new man. certainly. Days. and exclaimed. passed by unheeded in one rapid and instructive course. and." "Two years!" exclaimed Dantes. One day he stopped all at once. then. while his naturally poetical feelings threw a light and pleasing veil over the dry reality of arithmetical computation. even months. the mathematical turn of his mind rendered him apt at all kinds of calculation. I want to learn. it is the application of the sciences to truth. sigh heavily and involuntarily. and German. with folded arms. it will scarcely require two years for me to communicate to you the stock of learning I possess. Dantes spoke no more of escape. 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. In strict accordance with the promise made to the abbe." "Well. that Faria. Dantes possessed a prodigious memory. then suddenly rise. "do you really believe I can acquire all these things in so short a time?" "Not their application. He already knew Italian. Dantes observed. and by the aid of these two languages he easily comprehended the construction of all the others. Sometimes he would fall into long reveries. philosophy the other. Perhaps the delight his studies afforded him left no room for such thoughts." said Dantes. to be entered upon the following day. if there were no sentinel!" 154 . "Ah. or the rigid severity of geometry. and the three or four modern languages with which I am acquainted. but their principles you may. and had also picked up a little of the Romaic dialect during voyages to the East." said the abbe. English. daily grew sadder." "Everything.

The young man. "we may hope to put our design into execution. except as a last resort?" "I promise on my honor. "that I loathe the idea of shedding blood. alas!" cried the abbe. It consisted of a plan of his own cell and that of Dantes." "And how long shall we be in accomplishing the necessary work?" "At least a year. if you choose to call it so. "Do you consider the last twelve months to have been wasted?" asked the abbe." "Then."There shall not be one a minute longer than you please." "And yet the murder. In this passage he 155 . you have thought of it?" "Incessantly. "Are you strong?" the abbe asked one day of Dantes." replied the young man. "I have. "I have already told you. blushing deeply. with an air of determination that made his companion shudder. let me show you my plan. have you not?" asked Dantes eagerly. "impossible!" Dantes endeavored to renew the subject. Three months passed away. and then as readily straightened it. in reply." "Still. and refused to make any further response." "No matter! I could never agree to it. "Forgive me!" cried Edmond. with the passage which united them. tut!" answered the abbe." answered the abbe. "And will you engage not to do any harm to the sentry. "And you have discovered a means of regaining our freedom." said Dantes. no. "man is but man after all." "And shall we begin at once?" "At once. bent it into the form of a horseshoe. the abbe shook his head in token of disapproval. if it were only possible to place a deaf and blind sentinel in the gallery beyond us. took up the chisel." The abbe then showed Dantes the sketch he had made for their escape. and you are about the best specimen of the genus I have ever known." said the abbe. Come. would be simply a measure of self-preservation." "He shall be both blind and deaf. 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. "No. "Tut." "We have lost a year to no purpose!" cried Dantes." cried the abbe.

stunned by his fall. with a vigor and alacrity proportionate to their long rest from fatigue and their hopes of ultimate success. The prisoners were then to make their way through one of the gallery windows. and a wooden lever. and which is seldom possessed except by those who have been placed in constant intercourse with persons of high birth and breeding. 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. mixed in the first society of the day. this level would bring the two prisoners immediately beneath the gallery where the sentry kept watch. the rubbish being first pulverized so finely that the night wind carried it far away without permitting the smallest trace to remain. was thrown. That very day the miners began their labors. a knife. More than a year had been consumed in this undertaking. a large excavation would be made. moreover. Dantes' eyes sparkled with joy. The abbe was a man of the world. The fresh earth excavated during their present work. sometimes in one language. and the excavation completed beneath the gallery. by degrees and with the utmost precaution. out of the window in either Faria's or Dantes' cell. At the end of fifteen months the level was finished. as well as that outward polish and politeness he had before been wanting in. and had. easily acquired. and he rubbed his hands with delight at the idea of a plan so simple. They had learned to distinguish the almost imperceptible sound of his footsteps as he descended towards their dungeons. and which would have entirely blocked up the old passage. would be immediately bound and gagged by Dantes before he had power to offer any resistance. and the two workmen could distinctly hear the measured tread of the sentinel as he paced to and fro over their heads. 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. Faria still continuing to instruct Dantes by conversing with him. and to let themselves down from the outer walls by means of the abbe's ladder of cords. who. 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. thanks to the imitative powers bestowed on him by nature. at others. once there. and happily. 156 . he wore an air of melancholy dignity which Dantes. sometimes in another. the only tools for which had been a chisel. yet apparently so certain to succeed.proposed to drive a level as they do in mines. never failed of being prepared for his coming.

"listen to what I have to say. Dantes was occupied in arranging this piece of wood when he heard Faria. I will tell you what that is. 157 . This malady admits but of one remedy. whose eyes. and his very hair seemed to stand on end. "Alas. "all is over with me. dragging his unfortunate companion with him. draw out one of the feet that support the bed. they were obliged to defer their final attempt till that auspicious moment should arrive. and his hands clinched tightly together. as they were. Go into my cell as quickly as you can. I had a similar attack the year previous to my imprisonment." Dantes looked in fear and wonder at the livid countenance of Faria. when he immediately laid the sufferer on his bed. I am seized with a terrible. but descended into the passage.Compelled. or how long the attack may last?" In spite of the magnitude of the misfortune which thus suddenly frustrated his hopes. to await a night sufficiently dark to favor their flight. where he found him standing in the middle of the room. while his lips were white as those of a corpse. Dantes did not lose his presence of mind. therefore help me back to my room while I have the strength to drag myself along. I can feel that the paroxysm is fast approaching. half-carrying. when it comes to its height I shall probably lie still and motionless as though dead. he managed to reach the abbe's chamber. "Gracious heavens!" exclaimed Dantes. 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. then. perhaps mortal illness. his forehead streaming with perspiration. Dantes hastened to his dungeon. half-supporting him. I beseech you. "what is the matter? what has happened?" "Quick! quick!" returned the abbe. Who knows what may happen. "Thanks. who had remained in Edmond's cell for the purpose of cutting a peg to secure their rope-ladder." faltered out the abbe. "I am about to be seized with a fit of catalepsy. their greatest dread now was lest the stone through which the sentry was doomed to fall should give way before its right time. 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. shivering as though his veins were filled with ice. were surrounded by purple circles. "Tell me. already dull and sunken. no! — I may be found here. what ails you?" cried Dantes. letting his chisel fall to the floor. pale as death. call to him in a tone indicative of great suffering. Bring it to me — or rather — no." said the poor abbe.

taking up the knife. he with difficulty forced open the closely fixed jaws. his cheeks became purple. pour from eight to ten drops of the liquor contained in the phial down my throat. his eyes started from their sockets. Almost before the key had turned in the lock. for if they are it is more than probable I should be removed to another part of the prison. When I become quite motionless. continued gazing on the lifeless features of his friend. he struggled. a faint sigh issued from the lips. — force open my teeth with the knife. and hurried to his cell. and cause me to fall into fearful convulsions. and. and the sufferer made a feeble effort to move. doubled up in one last convulsion. carefully administered the appointed number of drops. dashed himself about. He had scarcely done so before the door opened. It was therefore near seven o'clock. and I may perhaps revive. and plainly distinguished the approaching steps of the jailer. An hour passed away and the old man gave no sign of returning animation. "He is saved! he is saved!" cried Dantes in a paroxysm of delight. the symptoms may be much more violent. foamed. and 158 . Take care my cries are not heard." "Perhaps!" exclaimed Dantes in grief-stricken tones. and became as rigid as a corpse. cold. foam at the mouth. and we be separated forever. "I — I — die — I" — So sudden and violent was the fit that the unfortunate prisoner was unable to complete the sentence. but he pointed with evident anxiety towards the door. more crushed and broken than a reed trampled under foot. Dantes began to fear he had delayed too long ere he administered the remedy. which. and colder and paler than marble. and uttered the most dreadful cries. The fit lasted two hours. a violent convulsion shook his whole frame. and cry out loudly. and not before. The sick man was not yet able to speak. Dantes listened. he fell back. At length a slight color tinged the livid cheeks. more helpless than an infant. On the other hand. thrusting his hands into his hair. Dantes prevented from being heard by covering his head with the blanket. — be careful about this. and the jailer saw the prisoner seated as usual on the side of his bed. open eyeballs. darted through it. his mouth was drawn on one side. then. and rigid as a corpse. however. The young man sprang to the entrance. but Edmond's anxiety had put all thoughts of time out of his head. carefully drawing the stone over the opening. consciousness returned to the dull.uttering neither sigh nor groan. then. "Help! help!" cried the abbe. then. Edmond waited till life seemed extinct in the body of his friend. and anxiously awaited the result.

and got up without help. We shall save you another time. and we can select any time we choose." The young man raised the arm. "be not deceived." answered the abbe. which fell back by its own weight. because we shall be able to command every requisite assistance. The third attack will either carry me off. The attack which has just passed away. only with a better chance of success. whose restless anxiety concerning his friend left him no desire to touch the food brought him. 159 . alas! I am fearfully exhausted and debilitated by this attack. knowing that all was ready for flight. now I can move neither my right arm nor leg. and judge if I am mistaken." "Be of good cheer. A sigh escaped him. but. Faria had now fully regained his consciousness. "lasted but half an hour." "Well." said the abbe. "And why not?" asked the young man. "your strength will return. if need be. but he still lay helpless and exhausted. or leave me paralyzed for life." "No. "you are mistaken — you will not die! And your third attack (if. Alas. Dantes. Everything is in readiness for our flight. As soon as you feel able to swim we will go." replied Faria." "I shall never swim again. we will wait. and my head seems uncomfortable. a month. to Dantes. condemns me forever to the walls of a prison. and after it I was hungry. I had no such idea." said he. which shows that there has been a suffusion of blood on the brain. was soon beside the sick man's couch." said he feebly. and took his hands. not for a time." replied Dantes. — a week." "My good Edmond." The deep glow of indignation suffused the cheeks of Dantes. indeed." cried Dantes. as we have done this." And as he spoke he seated himself near the bed beside Faria. "The last attack I had. two months. but forever. I thought you might have made your escape. — and meanwhile your strength will return. The abbe shook his head. "Without you? Did you really think me capable of that?" "At least. hurried back to the abbe's chamber. "This arm is paralyzed. and raising the stone by pressing his head against it. perfectly inanimate and helpless. None can fly from a dungeon who cannot walk. no. "Did you fancy yourself dying?" "No. Lift it. "I did not expect to see you again.before the departing steps of the jailer had died away in the long corridor he had to traverse. "I now see how wrong such an opinion would have been. you should have another) will find you at liberty.

and the young man retired to his task. that even your own excellent heart refuses to believe in. I can offer you no assistance. "you. "By the blood of Christ I swear never to leave you while you live. and swim for both of us. to allow yourself to be duped by vain hopes." "The physician may be mistaken!" exclaimed Dantes. are you not?" asked the abbe. 160 . high-principled young friend. "And as for your poor arm. must know as well as I do that a man so loaded would sink before he had done fifty strokes. You may one of these days reap the reward of your disinterested devotion." Faria gazed fondly on his noble-minded. but fly — go-I give you back your promise. was no other than the celebrated Cabanis. delay not on my account. in the spirit of obedience and respect which he had sworn to show towards his aged friend. As for you."You are convinced now. and he predicted a similar end for me." said the abbe. will be the hour of my death. then. single-hearted. both my father and grandfather died of it in a third attack. and you will not. and call the attention of his officer to the circumstance." Dantes took the hand of the abbe in his. "Then I shall also remain. then." said Dantes. for it is a family inheritance. in which. and that. "Thanks." "It is well. keep at it all night. he might. Since the first attack I experienced of this malady. in all human probability. and set about this work. quit this place." Then. if necessary. hear the hollow sound of his footsteps. I have continually reflected on it. Cease. Go. what difference will that make? I can take you on my shoulders. Indeed." murmured the invalid. rising and extending his hand with an air of solemnity over the old man's head. The physician who prepared for me the remedy I have twice successfully taken. and affectionately pressed it. I expected it. who are a sailor and a swimmer. extending one hand. he slowly added. Edmond. I shall have something of the greatest importance to communicate to you. Faria smiled encouragingly on him." "My son. "Depend upon it. That would bring about a discovery which would inevitably lead to our being separated. it becomes necessary to fill up the excavation beneath the soldier's gallery. by chance. Here I shall remain till the hour of my deliverance arrives. But as I cannot. who are young and active. and read in his countenance ample confirmation of the sincerity of his devotion and the loyalty of his purpose. and do not return here to-morrow till after the jailer his visited me. unhappily. I know what I say. "I accept.

you will. from being constantly rolled into a small compass. He had taken the silence of the old man for a return to reason. since I have the proof of your fidelity — this paper is my treasure. a sheet of paper." said Dantes." said the abbe with a smile. "Yes. "and I only see a half-burnt paper. of which alone." The sweat started forth on Dantes brow." said Faria. This treasure exists. from this day forth. "I have looked at it with all possible attention. Dantes. and I see by your paleness and agitation what is passing in your heart at this moment. I am not mad. he held open in his left hand. and now these few words uttered by Faria. He did not speak. "Your treasure?" stammered Dantes. With his instinctive delicacy Edmond had preferred avoiding any touch on this painful chord. and was not easily kept open. Edmond. and if I have not been allowed to possess it. on which are traces of Gothic characters inscribed with a peculiar kind of ink. and Faria had been equally silent. be assured." "This paper. of which. "What is that?" he inquired. Yes — you. which had brought upon the abbe the accusation of madness. it will be recollected. a noble nature. "Look at it. Faria smiled. who 161 . "You have. which. he found Faria seated and looking composed. "I may now avow to you. No." said he. he retained the use. my friend.Chapter 18 The Treasure. In the ray of light which entered by the narrow window of his cell. but you. When Dantes returned next morning to the chamber of his companion in captivity. had the form of a cylinder. one-half belongs to you. after so painful a crisis. Until this day and for how long a time! — he had refrained from talking of the treasure. but showed the paper to Dantes. because everyone thought me mad. seemed to indicate a serious relapse into mental alienation. No one would listen or believe me. indeed.

Edmond!" replied the old man. perhaps. Edmond. fatigued you. I shudder at any delay. your attack has." he said. read this paper. if you will." continued Faria. and believe me so afterwards if you will. "this is a terrible relapse! There was only this blow wanting. and taking the paper. Besides. I see you require proofs. which would make the wealth of a dozen families. — now that I think of all that may result to you in the good fortune of such a disclosure. the third attack may not come on? and then must not all be over? Yes." replied Dantes.must know that I am not." 162 . but read this paper today. "You persist in your incredulity. by some accident." "Then we will not talk of it until to-morrow. which are rendered illegible by fire. "My words have not convinced you. desirous of not yielding to the old man's madness. I will hear your narrative. — having been burnt. "a treasure is not a thing we need hurry about. or the next day after. now that I see you." "Alas. my dear friend. "I see nothing but broken lines and unconnected words. it is a matter of the utmost importance. and I tasted it slowly in the night of my dungeon and the despair of my captivity. and tremble lest I should not assure to one as worthy as yourself the possession of so vast an amount of hidden wealth. of which half was wanting. but to-day I wish to nurse you carefully. "25th April. But now I have forgiven the world for the love of you. young and with a promising future. "Why. when the young man had finished reading it. no doubt. which I have never shown to any one." "I will not irritate him. "I thought it was understood that we should not talk of that until to-morrow. indeed." "To-morrow." thought Edmond." Edmond turned away his head with a sigh. will be forever lost to those men who persecute me. Well. had you not better repose awhile? Tomorrow. "My dear friend. listen to me. — he read: — "This treasure." Then he said aloud." murmured Edmond to himself." "On the contrary. l49" "Well!" said Faria. I have often thought with a bitter joy that these riches. which may amount to two… of Roman crowns in the most distant a… of the second opening wh… declare to belong to him alo… heir." said Edmond. then. "Who knows if to-morrow. This idea was one of vengeance to me.

It was the governor. touched with pity. but not for me. that he could not understand how so much wisdom on all points could be allied with madness. who. His fear was lest the governor. During this time. restored by his alarm to a certain amount of activity. convinced that the poor madman. Edmond. for otherwise he would not have been able to enter by the small aperture which led to Dantes' chamber. and covered it with a mat in order the more effectually to avoid discovery. happy to escape the history and explanation which would be sure to confirm his belief in his friend's mental instability. "Steps approach — I go — adieu. tried to move and get over the distance which separated them. thinking thus to defer the moment when he should be convinced. avoiding all gestures in order that he might conceal from the governor the paralysis that had already half stricken him with death. 163 . who read them for the first time. had come in person to see him. had been on all points so rational and logical. tried to collect his scattered thoughts. Faria sat up to receive him. not daring to return to his friend. not seeing the young man appear. Faria. was only troubled with a slight indisposition. Faria. or was all the world deceived as to Faria? Dantes remained in his cell all day. towards the evening after the hour for the customary visit had gone by. while Faria."Yes. since their first acquaintance. glided like a snake along the narrow passage." "And do you believe you have discovered the hidden meaning?" "I am sure I have." "Silence!" exclaimed Dantes." And Dantes. who have grown pale over them by many nights' study. pushed the stone into place with his foot. that the abbe was mad — such a conviction would be so terrible! But. might order him to be removed to better quarters. for whom in his heart he felt a kind of affection. But fortunately this was not the case. and thus separate him from his young companion. my friend. and the governor left him. Edmond shuddered when he heard the painful efforts which the old man made to drag himself along. seated on his bed with his head in his hands. hearing of Faria's illness from the jailer. and he could no longer make use of one arm. in fact. completed every thought. and you shall judge for yourself. and have reconstructed every phrase. to you. once for all. Was Faria deceived as to his treasure. Edmond was obliged to assist him. but first listen to the history of this paper. so wonderfully sagacious. his leg was inert.

and it was necessary. The result was. The pope had also need of money to bring matters to an end with Louis XII. which I can never forget: — "`The great wars of Romagna had ended. I tried by absolute devotion to his will. his palace was my paradise. He determined to make two cardinals. who are dead. who had completed his conquest. His holiness had an idea.' But he. both felt the high honor of such a favor from the pope. in the twentieth chapter of the Life of Pope Alexander VI. I had often seen my noble patron annotating ancient volumes. to make up to him all he had done for me during ten years of unremitting kindness. lived on this reputation for wealth. "that I was the secretary and intimate friend of Cardinal Spada.' "By choosing two of the greatest personages of Rome. and Caesar Borgia soon found purchasers for their appointments. `As rich as a Spada. Listen to me. I was tutor to his nephews. and Caesar Spada. the last of the princes of that name. they were Giovanni Rospigliosi. and deploring the prostration of mind that followed them. who was formidable still in spite of his recent reverses." Edmond saw there was no escape. He was not rich. had need of money to purchase all Italy. he seated himself on the stool beside him. especially rich men — this was the return the holy father looked for. that Rospigliosi and Spada paid for being cardinals. and placing the old man on his bed. who held four of the highest dignities of the Holy See. One day when I was reproaching him for his unavailing searches. and eight 164 . Caesar Borgia." said the abbe. which was a matter of great difficulty in the impoverished condition of exhausted Italy. "You thought to escape my munificence. smiling bitterly. one of the noblest and richest of the Roman nobility. and I heard the phrase very often. pursuing you remorselessly. like public rumor. he looked at me. In the first place. although the wealth of his family had passed into a proverb. There. and. which will appear hereafter. The cardinal's house had no secrets for me. King of France. therefore. I owe to this worthy lord all the happiness I ever knew. They were ambitious. "You know." he said with a benignant smile. were the following lines. There was a third point in view. to have recourse to some profitable scheme. and eagerly searching amongst dusty family manuscripts.. and then he had the two hats to sell besides. he could sell the great appointments and splendid offices which the cardinals already held. The pope and Caesar Borgia first found the two future cardinals."Here I am. opened a volume relating to the History of the City of Rome. but it is in vain. and when he was alone in the world.

the person was pricked by this small point. in the first place. the bite was mortal. quite set up with his new dignities. had made progress in Rome. Then there was the ring with the lion's head. so eminently civilizing. Then the pope and Caesar Borgia invited the two cardinals to dinner.' 165 . — a negligence on the part of the locksmith.. a young captain of the highest promise. "It is time now to proceed to the last part of the speculation. and induced them to arrange their affairs and take up their residence at Rome. and at the end of twenty-four hours. Rospigliosi. Caesar. This key was furnished with a small iron point. replied: `Now as to the worthy cardinals. a charming retreat which the cardinals knew very well by report. The pope heaped attentions upon Rospigliosi and Spada. that they should either ask the cardinals to open the cupboard. Caesar proposed to his father. Spada. while a prick or a bite occasions a delay of a day or two. who came with a smile on his lips to say from the pope.' but it was a legate a latere. you forget. `Caesar wills that you die.' Caesar gave way before such cogent reasoning. let us ask both of them to dinner. and died next day.other persons paid for the offices the cardinals held before their elevation. near San Pierdarena. which Caesar wore when he wanted to greet his friends with a clasp of the hand. "The table was laid in a vineyard belonging to the pope. but it appeared the servant did not find him. Spada and Rospigliosi. This was a matter of dispute between the holy father and his son. "Spada knew what these invitations meant. something tells me that we shall get that money back. but Alexander VI. conferred upon them the insignia of the cardinalate. a prudent man. took paper and pen. or shake hands with them. went with a good appetite and his most ingratiating manner. Besides. He then sent word to his nephew to wait for him near the vineyard. that is to say. and the cardinals were consequently invited to dinner. and thus eight hundred thousand crowns entered into the coffers of the speculators. When this was pressed to effect the opening of the cupboard. of which the lock was difficult. Caesar thought they could make use of one of the means which he always had ready for his friends. since Christianity. it was no longer a centurion who came from the tyrant with a message. The lion bit the hand thus favored. the famous key which was given to certain persons with the request that they go and open a designated cupboard. an indigestion declares itself immediately. `His holiness requests you to dine with him. and greatly attached to his only nephew. and made his will.

admired the breviary. the nephew expired at his own door. Then. amongst others. was really the most miserable of uncles — no treasures — unless they were those of science. and Caesar Borgia paying him most marked attentions. he went and got himself obscurely killed in a night skirmish. but in these days landed property had not much value. The pope awaited him. Caesar and his father searched. in full costume. There were two palaces and a vineyard behind the Palatine Hill. there is a will. — you know by what mistake. but found nothing. and about the same in ready money. and the two palaces and the vineyard remained to the family since they were beneath the rapacity of the pope and his son. The first sight that attracted the eyes of Spada was that of his nephew. contained in the library and laboratories. for he had already drunk a glass of excellent wine. Alexander VI. examined. not exceeding a few thousand crowns in plate. escaped by shedding his skin like a snake. They began dinner and Spada was only able to inquire of his nephew if he had received his message. which proved that he had anticipated all. scrutinized. my breviary with the gold corners. Caesar."Spada set out about two o'clock to San Pierdarena. the rich man. compelled to quit Rome. my books. but it was fruitless. and. It was too late. under presence of seeking for the papers of the dead man. After the pope's death and his son's exile. or at least very little. which he was pressed to taste. which I beg he will preserve in remembrance of his affectionate uncle. scarcely noticed in history. But the inheritance consisted in this only. Spada died on the threshold of the vineyard. Spada turned pale. but the nephew had time to say to his wife before he expired: `Look well among my uncle's papers. it was supposed that the Spada family would resume the 166 . An hour afterwards a physician declared they were both poisoned through eating mushrooms. Spada at the same moment saw another bottle approach him.' "The heirs sought everywhere. The nephew replied no. perfectly comprehending the meaning of the question. a scrap of paper on which Spada had written: — `I bequeath to my beloved nephew my coffers. Months and years rolled on. poisoned. as Caesar looked at him with an ironical air. "Then Caesar and the pope hastened to lay hands on the heritage. That was all. poisoned at the same time.' "They sought even more thoroughly than the august heirs had done. and were greatly astonished that Spada. and that the snare was well spread. laid hands on the furniture. but the new skin was spotted by the poison till it looked like a tiger's. making signs which his wife could not comprehend. died. placed for him expressly by the pope's butler.

" said Faria. my friend. for the sole purpose of assuring myself whether any increase of fortune had occurred to them on the death of the Cardinal Caesar Spada. The Spadas remained in doubtful ease. It had been handed down from father to son. go on. I remained in my ignorance. that a servant always carried it before the cardinal on days of great solemnity. interrupting the thread of his narrative. all descending from the poisoned cardinal. He did so. stewards. had caused it to be regarded as a genuine relic. It was an illuminated book. with beautiful Gothic characters. Yet I had read. a better politician than his father. "I was then almost assured that the inheritance had neither profited the Borgias nor the family. "At the sight of papers of all sorts. "this seems to you very meaningless. It was useless. I had even written a precise history of the Borgia family. I in my turn examined the immense bundles of documents. and I advised him to invest all he had in an annuity. calculated a thousand and a thousand times the income and expenditure of the family for three hundred years. contracts." "The family began to get accustomed to their obscurity. I beg of you. I searched. others diplomatists. but in spite of the most exhaustive researches. which were kept in the archives of the family. counted. and some were ruined. and so weighty with gold. "Up to this point. parchments. no doubt. a mystery hung over this dark affair. eh?" "Oh. and was in the count's possession." "I will. which slept in the bosom of the earth under the eyes of the genie. his companion in misfortune. I say the two. I found — nothing. but could only trace the acquisition of the property of the Cardinal Rospigliosi. some grew rich. whose secretary I was — the Count of Spada. secretaries before me. preserved in the family with superstitious veneration. it seems as if I were reading a most interesting narrative. that Caesar. for the singular clause of the only will that had been found. like twenty servitors. and the 167 . some bankers. I come now to the last of the family. and thus doubled his income. had carried off from the pope the fortune of the two cardinals. "on the contrary. I had often heard him complain of the disproportion of his rank with his fortune. was completely despoiled. and amongst the descendants some were soldiers. — titles.splendid position they had held before the cardinal's time. ransacked. because Cardinal Rospigliosi. The celebrated breviary remained in the family. but this was not the case." cried Dantes. and the public rumor was. who had not taken any precaution. some churchmen. Years rolled on. but had remained unpossessed like the treasures of the Arabian Nights.

"In 1807. when. and his famous breviary. tired with my constant labor at the same thing. kept there by the request of the heirs. It was indeed but anticipating the simple manners which I should soon be under the necessity of adopting. I determined to find one for myself. I raised my head. found it. lighted my taper in the fire itself. and opened the crumpled paper with inexpressible emotion. recognizing. I awoke as the clock was striking six. and with the other groped about for a piece of paper (my match-box being empty). He had reserved from his annuity his family papers. I was in utter darkness. for the palace was sold to a stranger. and I was going to leave Rome and settle at Florence. composed of five thousand volumes. I felt for it. twisted it up together. I grasped it in my hand. and a fortnight after the death of the Count of Spada. set light to it. however. I rang for a light. All these he bequeathed to me. an old paper quite yellow with age. on the 25th of December (you will see presently how the date became fixed in my memory). Dantes. and that I would draw up a genealogical tree and history of his house. which he had in ready money. then recollected that I had seen in the famous breviary. his library. a month before I was arrested. with which I proposed to get a light from the small flame still playing on the embers. with a thousand Roman crowns. and the famous breviary. my library. I hesitated for a moment. on condition that I would have anniversary masses said for the repose of his soul. and putting it into the expiring flame. It was that paper you read this morning. we are near the conclusion. that these characters had been traced in mysterious and sympathetic ink. "But beneath my fingers. Be easy. and then I will complete for you the incomplete words and unconnected sense. for the thousandth time. but as no one came. the papers I was arranging. I took a wax-candle in one hand. in proportion as the fire ascended. intending to take with me twelve thousand francs I possessed. my dear Edmond. My patron died. when I had done so. Fearing. I was reading. as if by magic. nearly one-third of the paper had been consumed by the flame. and overcome by a heavy dinner I had eaten. and I fell asleep about three o'clock in the afternoon. which was on the table beside me. to make use of any valuable piece of paper.Count of Spada in his poverty. my head dropped on my hands. read it again. and which had served as a marker for centuries. I saw yellowish characters appear on the paper." 168 . All this I did scrupulously. put out the flame as quickly as I could. only appearing when exposed to the fire.

when he saw that Dantes had read the last line. … know of the existence of this treasure. and re… serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara and Bentivoglio. Two open… ings have been made in these caves. that I alone… know of the existence of this treasure. that I have bu… ried in a place he knows and has visited with me. "and now. all I poss… jewels. Two open… in these caves. which treasure I bequeath and leave en… tire to him as my sole heir. traced with an ink of a reddish color resembling rust: — "This 25th day of April. with an air of triumph. and fearing that not… he may desire to become my heir. in… Island of Monte Cristo." Dantes obeyed. and re… and Bentivoglio. gold. be… ing invited to dine by his Holiness Alexander VI. offered the paper to Dantes. money. and fearing that not… content with making me pay for my hat. and judge for yourself. Guido Spada … ried in a place he knows … the caves of the small … essed of ingots. "put the two fragments together.Faria. 1498. "Caes… "And now. … tire to him … ar Spada. "Caes… ar Spada. jewels. money. that is. which … lions of Roman crowns. that I have bu… and has visited with me. … serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara … I declare to my nephew. who were poisoned. gems. who this time read the following words. which Edmond read as follows: — "… ing invited to dine by his Holiness … content with making me pay for my hat. 1498. who were poisoned… I declare to my nephew. 1498.. the treasure is in the furthest a… ngle in the second." "Well. my sole heir." and he presented to Dantes a second leaf with fragments of lines written on it. diamonds.. and the conjointed pieces gave the following: — "This 25th day of April. that is. do you comprehend now?" inquired Faria. diamonds. gold.… my sole heir. and which he … ck from the small … ings have been made … ngle in the second. Guido Spada. "25th April. gems. which may amount to nearly two mil… lions of Roman crowns. in… the caves of the small Island of Monte Cristo all I poss… ssed of ingots. be… Alexander VI. "read this other paper. the treasure is in the furthest a… which treasure I bequeath and leave en… as my sole heir. 1498. he may desire to become my heir. 169 ." said the abbe. and which he will find on raising the twentieth ro… ck from the small creek to the east in a right line." Faria followed him with an excited look. "25th April. that I alone… may amount to nearly two mil… will find on raising the twentieth ro… creek to the east in a right line." he said.

"now. "The Spada family was one of the oldest and most powerful families of the fifteenth century."* (* $2." "But. no. the unity of the Italian kingdom. "Now. he bequeathed to me all it contained. and in those times. and you escape alone. "has this treasure no more legitimate possessor in the world than ourselves?" "No. nearly thirteen millions of our money. no. quite contrary to what Napoleon desired so soon as he had a son born to him. made me his heir. The last Count of Spada. make your mind satisfied on that point. when other opportunities for investment were wanting. measuring the length of the lines by those of the paper. if I die here."It is the declaration of Cardinal Spada. you know as much as I do myself. yes!" "And who completed it as it now is?" "I did. still incredulous. be easy on that score. addressing Dantes with an almost paternal expression. and divining the hidden meaning by means of what was in part revealed. such accumulations of gold and jewels were by no means rare. we may enjoy it without remorse. and my hasty departure. as we are guided in a cavern by the small ray of light above us. "Yes. and did set out at that very instant." Edmond thought he was in a dream — he wavered between incredulity and joy. carrying with me the beginning of my great work. wished for a partition of provinces) had their eyes on me." replied Edmond. a thousand times." "And what did you do when you arrived at this conclusion?" "I resolved to set out. Aided by the remaining fragment. staggered at the enormous amount. the family is extinct. half this treasure is yours.000 in 1894. 170 ." continued Faria.600." inquired Dantes hesitating." "And you say this treasure amounts to" — "Two millions of Roman crowns. bequeathing to me this symbolic breviary. moreover. handed down by entail. and which they cannot touch. no. though possessed of nearly a million in diamonds and jewels. and the will so long sought for.) "Impossible!" said Dantes. "Impossible? and why?" asked the old man. my dear fellow. there are at this day Roman families perishing of hunger. If we lay hands on this fortune. I was arrested at the very moment I was leaving Piombino. the cause of which they were unable to guess. having aroused their suspicions. but for some time the imperial police (who at this period. If we ever escape together. I guessed the rest. the whole belongs to you.

my dear friend." "You are my son. I have no right to it." replied Dantes. "that I might test your character. now. Well. 171 ."I have only kept this secret so long from you. "You are the child of my captivity. "and to you only." exclaimed the old man. Had we escaped before my attack of catalepsy. God has sent you to me to console." continued Faria. I am no relation of yours. and the prisoner who could not get free. My profession condemns me to celibacy. "it is you who will conduct me thither. Dantes. at one and the same time." 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. with a sigh. you do not thank me?" "This treasure belongs to you. and then surprise you. the man who could not be a father. I should have conducted you to Monte Cristo." he added. Dantes.

This island was. could insure the future happiness of him whom Faria really loved as a son. as if fate resolved on depriving the prisoners of their last chance. Dantes drew a plan of the island for Faria. and had once touched there. explaining to Dantes all the good which. They had repaired it completely. and he reflected how much ill.Chapter 19 The Third Attack. But for this precaution. a man could do in these days to his friends. and Faria gave Dantes advice as to the means he should employ to recover the treasure. still existed. a new misfortune befell them. which had so long been the object of the abbe's meditations. the gallery on the sea side. for the oath of vengeance he had taken recurred to his memory. and then Dantes' countenance became gloomy. with thirteen or fourteen millions of francs. Now that this treasure. in these times. it had doubled its value in his eyes. and every day he expatiated on the amount. and though he considered the treasure as by no means chimerical. he yet believed it was no longer there. always had been. but Dantes knew it. and stopped up with vast masses of stone the hole Dantes had partly filled in. which had long been in ruins. and the way in which he had achieved the discovery. a man with thirteen or fourteen millions could do to his enemies. and making them understand that they were condemned to perpetual imprisonment. But Dantes was far from being as enthusiastic and confident as the old man. which looks as though it had been thrust up by volcanic force from the depth to the surface of the ocean. It was past a question now that Faria was not a lunatic. it will be 172 . It is a rock of almost conical form. but at the same time Dantes could not believe that the deposit. increased Edmond's admiration of him. However. and had often passed it. situated twenty-five miles from Pianosa. supposing it had ever existed. between Corsica and the Island of Elba. which had given rise to the suspicion of his madness. which. and still is. completely deserted. The abbe did not know the Island of Monte Cristo. was rebuilt.

and now I could not break my promise if I would. and Dantes knew it from the first to the last word. and more inexorable barrier was interposed to cut off the realization of their hopes. could not deprive me of this. the abbe had made to Edmond. this is better for me than tons of gold and cases of diamonds. and makes my whole frame capable of great and terrible things. and anticipating the pleasure he would enjoy. a stronger. for their attempt to escape would have been detected. and which have taken root there with all their philological ramifications. even Caesar Borgia himself. yet the days these two unfortunates passed together went quickly. Then he 173 . and they would undoubtedly have been separated. Believe me. I owe you my real good. These different sciences that you have made so easy to me by the depth of the knowledge you possess of them. strengthens my soul. "that God deems it right to take from me any claim to merit for what you call my devotion to you. which awaits me beneath the sombre rocks of Monte Cristo. and all the sovereigns of the earth. and neither of us will quit this prison." Thus. if I should ever be free. the languages you have implanted in my memory. with an air of sorrowful resignation. who for so long a time had kept silence as to the treasure. For fear the letter might be some day lost or stolen. and the clearness of the principles to which you have reduced them — this is my treasure.remembered. Thus a new. which we take for terra firma. "You see. But my real treasure is not that. To have you as long as possible near me. and take comfort. my present happiness. it is the rays of intelligence you have elicited from my brain. and with this you have made me rich and happy. the misfortune would have been still greater. it is your presence. in spite of our jailers." said the young man. our living together five or six hours a day. he remained paralyzed in the right arm and the left leg. I have promised to remain forever with you. and which evaporate and vanish as we draw near to them. — so fills my whole existence. and had given up all hope of ever enjoying it himself. has no longer any hold over me. now perpetually talked of it. my dear friend. As he had prophesied would be the case. but actual. Faria. he compelled Dantes to learn it by heart. that the despair to which I was just on the point of yielding when I knew you. and this — this is my fortune — not chimerical. But he was continually thinking over some means of escape for his young companion. — which embellishes my mind. to hear your eloquent speech. if not actually happy. The treasure will be no more mine than yours. even were they not as problematical as the clouds we see in the morning floating over the sea. my beloved friend. to Faria.

Dantes saw the old man. Then. to endeavor to find the wonderful caverns. rushed into the passage. from the day and hour and moment when he was so. of which we have spoken. and reached the opposite extremity. — Faria. He sat up in bed and a cold sweat broke out upon his brow. believing that he heard some one calling him. who learns to make something from nothing. He opened his eyes upon utter darkness. and once there. In the meanwhile the hours passed. but yet erect. and had gradually. my dear friend. without having recovered the use of his hand and foot. which found vent when Faria was left alone. once free. clinging to the bedstead. he could have but one only thought. By the light of the wretched and wavering lamp. assured that if the first were seized. Dantes. and which had so seriously alarmed him when he saw them for the first time. But beneath this superficial calm there were in the heart of the young man. no one would be able to discover its real meaning. for fear of recalling the almost extinct past which now only floated in his memory like a distant light wandering in the night. many repressed desires. and search in the appointed spot. to gain Monte Cristo by some means. His name. being the farthest angle in the second opening. that he might not see himself grow old. as we have said. One night Edmond awoke suddenly. besides the moral instructions we have detailed. "you understand. Undoubtedly the call came from Faria's dungeon.destroyed the second portion. and I need not attempt to explain to you?" 174 . pale." murmured Edmond. Faria. They were thus perpetually employed. at least tolerably. "Alas. taught his youthful companion the patient and sublime duty of a prisoner. His features were writhing with those horrible symptoms which he already knew. be it remembered. "Alas. had regained all the clearness of his understanding. and perhaps in that of the old man. 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 remain there alone under some pretext which would arouse no suspicions. — instructions which were to serve him when he was at liberty. or rather a plaintive voice which essayed to pronounce his name. do you not. which was. drew up the stone. "can it be?" He moved his bed. reached him. if not rapidly." said Faria in a resigned tone. Whole hours sometimes passed while Faria was giving instructions to Dantes. the secret entrance was open. many stifled sighs. — the appointed spot. and when Edmond returned to his cell.

is yet always so dear. yes. At length providence has done something for you." "There is not a hope. and in whose heart he has so profoundly rooted the love of life. all the springs of life are now exhausted in me. the dungeon I am about to leave will not long remain empty. "but no matter. looking at his paralyzed arm and leg. and it was time I should die. yes!" exclaimed Dantes. which had failed at the words of the old man. strong. only do not wait so long. his heart wrung with anguish. and so act as to render your captivity supportable or your flight possible. exclaiming. my dear friend." replied Faria. "has but half its work to do. he restores to you more than he takes away. and to him you will appear like an angel of salvation. which. in five minutes the malady will reach its height. Quick. We must now only think of you. Perhaps he will be young. and death. try. however painful it may be. he drew out the phial. "See. help!" Faria had just sufficient strength to restrain him. It would require years to do again what I have done here." he continued." Edmond could only clasp his hands and exclaim." he exclaimed. still a third filled with the red liquor. "and I tell you that I will save you yet. after having made me 175 ." "Oh!" exclaimed Dantes. begin to pervade my whole frame. my friend. some other unfortunate being will soon take my place. "Do as you did before. quick! tell me what I must do this time. while I have been but a hindrance. The cold gains upon me. and enduring. and will aid you in your escape. "Silence. and I will save you a second time!" And raising the foot of the bed. which had for a moment staggered under this blow. be assured. my friend. and the results would be instantly destroyed if our jailers knew we had communicated with each other. "Oh. which make my teeth chatter and seem to dislocate my bones. should do all in his power to preserve that existence. "Help. like yourself. Besides. "Oh. God wills it that man whom he has created. These horrible chills. then. "or you are lost. I listen. I have saved you once. I feel the blood flowing towards my brain. my dear Edmond. If. he said.Edmond uttered a cry of agony. quite out of his senses. "there remains still some of the magic draught. shaking his head. rushed towards the door. and in a quarter of an hour there will be nothing left of me but a corpse. You will no longer have half a dead body tied to you as a drag to all your movements." he said. are there any fresh instructions? Speak." "Well. speak not thus!" and then resuming all his presence of mind. and. my friend." "Oh. and his strength.

" said Faria. clasping Edmond's hand convulsively — "adieu!" "Oh. "that they may not separate us if you save me!" "You are right. swollen eyelids. you see that I do not recover. It seemed as if a flow of blood had ascended from the chest to the head. yes. I wish you all the happiness and all the prosperity you so well deserve. God grants me the boon of vision unrestricted by time or space. in place of the intellectual being who so lately rested there. "Listen. If you do escape. The treasure of the Spadas exists. now. my dear friend. no. "And now. forget not Monte Cristo!" And he fell back on the bed. "sole consolation of my wretched existence. yes. you do not seem to be in such agony as you were before. was not so. The crisis was terrible. 'tis here — 'tis here — 'tis over — my sight is gone — my senses fail! Your hand. he said. whom all the world called mad. and are dazzled at the sight of so much riches. a priceless gift. — no. then pour the rest down my throat. Oh. but still gave me. "Adieu. Oh. adieu!" murmured the old man. My son. At your age we have faith in life. — you whom heaven gave me somewhat late. I see it in the depths of the inner cavern. I suffer less because there is in me less strength to endure." Edmond took the old man in his arms." he cried. — "Monte Cristo. although you suffer much. but old men see death more clearly. to what I say in this my dying moment. be assured I shall save you! Besides. I bless thee!" The young man cast himself on his knees. Dantes raised his head and saw Faria's eyes injected with blood. succor him! Help — help — help!" "Hush — hush!" murmured the dying man. "do not forsake me! Oh. lay on the bed of torture. My eyes pierce the inmost recesses of the earth. in which he summoned all his faculties. remember that the poor abbe. and lips flecked with bloody foam." "Do not mistake. Dantes! Adieu — adieu!" And raising himself by a final effort. — at the moment of separating from you forever. Now lift me on my bed. Hasten to Monte Cristo — avail yourself of the fortune — for you have indeed suffered long enough. for I can no longer support myself.swallow twelve drops instead of ten. and laid him on the bed. leaning his head against the old man's bed. it is the privilege of youth to believe and hope." A violent convulsion attacked the old man. and for which I am most grateful. and a rigid form with twisted limbs. 176 . not yet.

pried open the teeth. he took the knife. and paled the ineffectual light of the lamp. he heaved a sigh which resembled a shriek. stiffened body. which offered less resistance than before. which had remained extended. but in vain — they opened again as soon as shut. but the eyeballs were glazed. placed it on a projecting stone above the bed. and without having occasion to force open his jaws. which he tried many times to close. perhaps. and the heart's pulsation become more and more deep and dull. Half an hour. — no change took place. When he believed that the right moment had arrived. an hour and a half elapsed. the phial contained. his brow bathed with perspiration. Dantes still doubted. Edmond leaned over his friend. closing as well as he could the entrance to the secret passage by the large stone as he descended. and he put the phial to the purple lips of Faria. half an hour. his hand applied to his heart. a quarter of an hour.Dantes took the lamp. counted one after the other twelve drops. On this occasion he began his rounds at Dantes' cell. and felt the body gradually grow cold. and then went away. his eyes opened until it was fearful to gaze upon them. until at length it stopped. It was time. but as soon as the daylight gained the pre-eminence. and watched. It was six o'clock in the morning. and its feeble ray came into the dungeon. he poured the whole of the liquid down his throat. and at times gave it the appearance of life. the last movement of the heart ceased. and he dared not again press the hand that hung out of bed. Strange shadows passed over the countenance of the dead man. With steady gaze he awaited confidently the moment for administering the restorative. he saw that he was alone with a corpse. Then an invincible and extreme terror seized upon him. an hour. his hair erect. the face became livid. the dawn was just breaking. carefully concealed it. The draught produced a galvanic effect. He waited ten minutes. and on leaving him he went on to Faria's 177 . While the struggle between day and night lasted. whence its tremulous light fell with strange and fantastic ray on the distorted countenance and motionless. and then his convulsed body returned gradually to its former immobility. twice as much more. Trembling. the eyes remaining open. He extinguished the lamp. and during this period of anguish. he dared no longer to gaze on those fixed and vacant eyes. he counted the seconds by the beating of his heart. Then he thought it was time to make the last trial. for the jailer was coming. a violent trembling pervaded the old man's limbs. the eyes remained open.

Other turnkeys came. He therefore returned by the subterraneous gallery." said the governor. At the end of an hour. heard the voice of the governor. The voices soon ceased. who called out for help. Dantes was then seized with an indescribable desire to know what was going on in the dungeon of his unfortunate friend. he will not have enough to pay for his shroud!" said another. He went on his way. Questions and answers followed in a nonchalant manner that made Dantes indignant. "the madman has gone to look after his treasure. therefore. Still he dared not to enter. It was the governor who returned. There was a moment's silence. "as he was a churchman. and declared that he was dead. "Well." said one. "I am very sorry for what you tell me. "the shrouds of the Chateau d'If are not dear!" "Perhaps. mute and motionless. as they might have left some turnkey to watch the dead. Last of all came the governor. The doctor analyzed the symptoms of the malady to which the prisoner had succumbed. The inquiries soon commenced. he heard a faint noise." "They may give him the honors of the sack. which increased. and words of pity fell on Dantes' listening ears. but comprehended very little of what was said. Nothing betokened that the man know anything of what had occurred. Edmond heard the creaking of the bed as they moved the corpse. and it seemed to him as if every one had left the cell. and arrived in time to hear the exclamations of the turnkey." added a third voice. Good journey to him!" "With all his millions. they may go to some expense in his behalf. followed by the doctor and other attendants. and then was heard the regular tramp of soldiers. for he was a 178 ." said one of the previous speakers. — it was evident that the doctor was examining the dead body. for he felt that all the world should have for the poor abbe a love and respect equal to his own. well. He remained. they sent for the doctor. replying to the assurance of the doctor. the prisoner did not recover. who asked them to throw water on the dead man's face. The governor then went out. hardly venturing to breathe.dungeon. mingled with brutal laughter. taking thither breakfast and some linen. and seeing that. in spite of this application." Edmond did not lose a word. "that the old man is really dead. "Oh.

during which Dantes.quiet. "Yes. "You had never anything to complain of?" said the governor to the jailer who had charge of the abbe." "Wasn't his name Faria?" inquired one of the officers who accompanied the governor. "but really it is a useless precaution. In spite of all appearances. very learned. be so kind. "this burn in the heel is decisive. when my wife was ill. on the contrary. sir. without any attempt to escape." "It is the sort of malady which we call monomania. of which the peculiar and nauseous smell penetrated even behind the wall where Dantes was listening in horror. therefore." This order to heat the irons made Dantes shudder. and some minutes afterwards a turnkey entered." replied the jailer. "You see. and required no watching. people going and coming. he is really dead. knew that the doctor was examining the corpse a second time." said the governor. — "Here is the brazier. and. sir. One day." 179 ." "Still." added the turnkey." There was a moment of complete silence. as he said. notwithstanding your certainty. too. "he is dead." said the governor. and not that I doubt your science. and rational enough on all points which did not relate to his treasure. too." "You know. inoffensive prisoner. and then was heard the crackling of burning flesh. "Never. as to finish your duty by fulfilling the formalities described by law. but in discharge of my official duty. indeed. I will answer for that. sir. he was intractable. The perspiration poured forth upon the young man's brow. I'll answer for it. persisting." said the doctor. "there was no occasion for watching him: he would have stayed here fifty years." said the doctor. he gave me a prescription which cured her. and delivered from his captivity. still listening." said the doctor. He heard hasty steps." said the doctor. "You may make your mind easy. "I believe it will be requisite. happy in his folly. sir." "Ah. saying. He was." "Let the irons be heated. that we should be perfectly assured that the prisoner is dead." There was a moment's silence. but on that. and he felt as if he should faint. he sometimes amused me very much by telling me stories. lighted. "never. the creaking of a door. The poor fool is cured of his folly. "that we are not content in such cases as this with such a simple examination. it was an ancient name.

180 ." Then the steps retreated. Meanwhile the operation of putting the body in the sack was going on. I told him I would attend to the prisoners in his absence. "Will there be any mass?" asked one of the attendants. with the impiety usual in persons of his profession. If the poor abbe had not been in such a hurry. but I hope. when the task was ended. and a silence more sombre than that of solitude ensued. "The chaplain of the chateau came to me yesterday to beg for leave of absence. pooh. about ten or eleven o'clock. in order to take a trip to Hyeres for a week. and looked carefully around the chamber. going and coming." A shout of laughter followed this brutal jest." said the governor. "I did not know that I had a rival. with its creaking hinges and bolts ceased. then the bed again creaked under the weight deposited upon it." Other footsteps." "Yes." replied the governor. were now heard. yes."Ah. and the heavy footfall of a man who lifts a weight sounded on the floor. and not give the devil the wicked delight of sending him a priest. governor. and struck its icy chill to the very soul of Dantes." said the doctor." said the governor. "At what hour?" inquired a turnkey. and a moment afterwards the noise of rustling canvas reached Dantes' ears." "Shall we watch by the corpse?" "Of what use would it be? Shut the dungeon as if he were alive — that is all. he shall be decently interred in the newest sack we can find. Then he raised the flag-stone cautiously with his head. But make haste — I cannot stay here all day. "That is impossible. "This evening. "Certainly. sir?" inquired a turnkey. make your mind easy. God will respect his profession. It was empty. the bed creaked." "Pooh. "Why. ah!" said the doctor. the noise of the door. and Dantes emerged from the tunnel. that you will show him all proper respect. "he is a churchman. Will that satisfy you?" "Must this last formality take place in your presence. and the voices died away in the distance. — the silence of death. which was all-pervasive. "This evening. he might have had his requiem.

But how to die? It is very easy. and faintly illuminated by the pale light that came from the window. and fell into melancholy and gloomy revery. Alone — he was alone again — again condemned to silence — again face to face with nothingness! Alone! — never again to see the face. indeed. — a winding-sheet which. to give way to the sarcasm of destiny. had I died years ago. He seated himself on the edge of that terrible bed. where the frail bark is tossed from the depths to the top of the wave. Faria." But excessive grief is like a storm at sea. A barrier had been placed between Dantes and his old friend. I will yet win back the happiness 181 . and then they will guillotine me. rush on the first person that opens the door. with whom he was accustomed to live so intimately." he went on with a smile. "I should go where he goes. now hovered like a phantom over the abbe's dead body. as the turnkey said." he said. no. lay a sack of canvas. Dantes recoiled from the idea of so infamous a death. and should assuredly find him again. cost so little. No longer could Edmond look into those wide-open eyes which had seemed to be penetrating the mysteries of death. "I will remain here. no longer could he clasp the hand which had done so much to make his existence blessed. strangle him. I want to live. never again to hear the voice of the only human being who united him to earth! Was not Faria's fate the better. and passed suddenly from despair to an ardent desire for life and liberty. at full length. and under its rude folds was stretched a long and stiffened form. "If I could die. it was Faria's last windingsheet. On the bed. "Die? oh. but now to die would be. I shall struggle to the very last. after all — to solve the problem of life at its source. even at the risk of horrible suffering? The idea of suicide. Everything was in readiness. after having lived and suffered so long and so much! Die? yes." he exclaimed — "not die now. No. the beneficent and cheerful companion. no longer breathed. which his friend had driven away and kept away by his cheerful presence.Chapter 20 The Cemetery of the Chateau D'If.

If they took him to the cemetery and laid him in a grave. "Just God!" he muttered. and tried vainly to close the resisting eyes. that he might not allow his thoughts to be distracted from his desperate resolution. but he was afraid that the governor would change his mind. and then paused abruptly by the bed. and. lifted his hand to his brow as if his brain wore giddy. Dantes might have waited until the evening visit was over. Before I die I must not forget that I have my executioners to punish. took from the hiding-place the needle and thread. if they tried to catch him. and getting inside the sack. too. and this is what he intended to do. flung off his rags. escape. and perhaps. turned the head towards the wall. profiting by their alarm. and. drew the bed against the wall. and then. and I shall die in my dungeon like Faria. as was his frequent custom. he became silent and gazed straight before him like one overwhelmed with a strange and amazing thought. placed himself in the posture in which the dead body had been laid. some friends to reward. believe that he was asleep. laid it on his couch. and bore it along the tunnel to his own chamber. as it was night. which glared horribly. If while he was being carried out the grave-diggers should discover that they were bearing a live instead of a dead body.of which I have been deprived. let me take the place of the dead!" Without giving himself time to reconsider his decision. covered it with his counterpane. tied around its head the rag he wore at night around his own. indeed. returned to the other cell. he would use his knife to better purpose. opened it with the knife which Faria had made. once again kissed the ice-cold brow. the grave-diggers could scarcely have turned their backs before he would have worked his way through the yielding soil and escaped. He would have been discovered by the beating of his heart. he would allow himself to be covered with earth. he bent over the appalling shroud. so that the jailer might. if by any mischance the jailers had entered at that moment. paced twice or thrice round the dungeon. when he brought the evening meal. Now his plans were fully made. Suddenly he arose." As he said this. he meant to open the sack from top to bottom. He hoped 182 . Yet they will forget me here. and sewed up the mouth of the sack from the inside. that they might feel only naked flesh beneath the coarse canvas. "whence comes this thought? Is it from thee? Since none but the dead pass freely from this dungeon. Dantes did not intend to give them time to recognize him. drew the corpse from the sack. but with a sudden cut of the knife. entered the tunnel again. and order the dead body to be removed earlier. who knows. In that case his last hope would have been destroyed.

about the hour the governor had appointed. Yet the hours passed on without any unusual disturbance. and thus discover all. "He's heavy though for an old and thin man. It was a good augury. while. At length. you're right. approaching the ends of the bed. This time the jailer might not be as silent as usual. If he was detected in this and the earth proved too heavy. took the sack by its extremities. His hand placed upon his heart was unable to redress its throbbings. His situation was too precarious to allow him even time to reflect on any thought but one. might perceive the change that had been made. but he had not thought of hunger. but speak to Dantes. when he brought him his supper at seven o'clock. when he heard the noise they made in putting down the hand-bier. Dantes' agony really began. he would be stifled. footsteps were heard on the stairs. summoned up all his courage. and went away without saying a word. and Dantes knew that he had escaped the first peril. The two men. From time to time chills ran through his whole body. and then — so much the better. "What would be the use of carrying so much more weight?" was the reply. from misanthropy or fatigue. "Have you tied the knot?" inquired the first speaker. and seeing that he received no reply. The footsteps — they were double — paused at the door — and Dantes guessed that the two grave-diggers had come to seek him — this idea was soon converted into certainty. The first risk that Dantes ran was." said one. twenty times at least. and then the man placed his bread and soup on the table. and clutched his heart in a grasp of ice. The door opened. held his breath. "What's the knot for?" thought Dantes. Dantes had not eaten since the preceding evening. When seven o'clock came." said another. a third remaining at the door with a torch in its hand. as he raised the head. lifting the feet. go to the bed. Then he thought he was going to die. with the other he wiped the perspiration from his temples." "Yes.that the weight of earth would not be so great that he could not overcome it. and would have been happy if at the same time he could have repressed the throbbing of his veins. "I can do that when we get there. Edmond felt that the moment had arrived. Dantes had received his jailer in bed. "They say every year adds half a pound to the weight of the bones. and a dim light reached Dantes' eyes through the coarse sack that covered him. that the jailer. all would be over." replied the companion. nor did he think of it now. fortunately. 183 . he saw two shadows approach his bed.

who heard a heavy metallic substance laid down beside him. "The spade. who was looking on. and then stopped to open a door. "Yes. yes.They deposited the supposed corpse on the bier." said one of them. and pretty tight too. the abbe runs a chance of being wet. "Here it is at last. It was a sensation in which pleasure and pain were strangely mingled. and Dantes knew that the mistral was blowing. and they proceeded. and at the same moment a cord was fastened round his feet with sudden and painful violence. have you tied the knot?" inquired the grave-digger. Suddenly he felt the fresh and sharp night air. but his hair stood erect on his head. then stopped. and then there was a burst of brutal laughter. and then the party. One of them went away. I can tell you. "not without some trouble though." said the other bearer. "A little farther — a little farther. he is by no means a light load!" said the other bearer. They advanced fifty paces farther. and Dantes heard his shoes striking on the pavement. "Well." "Yes." said the other. but fortunately he did not attempt it. then." "Why. "Where am I?" he asked himself. "You know very well that the last was stopped 184 . sitting on the edge of the hand-barrow. ascended the stairs. putting the bier down on the ground. "Give us a light. reached Dantes' ear distinctly as they went forward. who went first. "Bad weather!" observed one of the bearers." And the bier was lifted once more. although not asked in the most polite terms." As he said this. "Well. the man came towards Edmond. Dantes' first impulse was to escape." was the answer. "or I shall never find what I am looking for. then went forward again. "but it has lost nothing by waiting. perhaps. here we are at last." The man with the torch complied. "What can he be looking for?" thought Edmond." was the answer." said the other. lighted by the man with the torch. The noise of the waves dashing against the rocks on which the chateau is built. "Really. Edmond stiffened himself in order to play the part of a dead man. "Move on. Dantes did not comprehend the jest. "not a pleasant night for a dip in the sea." An exclamation of satisfaction indicated that the grave-digger had found the object of his search." he said. The bearers went on for twenty paces.

dashed on the rocks. and the governor told us next day that we were careless fellows. The sea is the cemetery of the Chateau d'If. and swung him to and fro. one by the head and the other by the heels. falling. "two! three!" And at the same instant Dantes felt himself flung into the air like a wounded bird. with a rapidity that made his blood curdle." They ascended five or six more steps. and then Dantes felt that they took him. stifled in a moment by his immersion beneath the waves. falling. 185 . At last. Although drawn downwards by the heavy weight which hastened his rapid descent. and as he did so he uttered a shrill cry. and was dragged into its depths by a thirty-six pound shot tied to his feet.on his way. it seemed to him as if the fall lasted for a century. "One!" said the grave-diggers. he darted like an arrow into the ice-cold water. with a horrible splash. Dantes had been flung into the sea.

and as his right hand (prepared as he was for every chance) held his knife open. for he usually attracted a crowd of spectators in the bay before the lighthouse at Marseilles when he swam there. before him was the vast expanse of waters.Chapter 21 The Island of Tiboulen. and by a desperate effort severed the cord that bound his legs. Dantes dived again. When he came up again the light had disappeared. and on the highest rock was a torch lighting two figures. but Ratonneau and Pomegue are inhabited. blacker than the sea. in order to avoid being seen. and then dived. blacker than the sky. Behind him. he felt it dragging him down still lower. and was unanimously declared to be the best swimmer in the port. although stunned and almost suffocated. Dantes waited only to get breath. Dantes. he was fifty paces from where he had first sunk. He must now get his bearings. sombre and terrible. He saw overhead a black and tempestuous sky. He then bent his body. Dantes. Tiboulen and Lemaire were therefore the safest for Dantes' venture. across which the wind was driving clouds that occasionally suffered a twinkling star to appear. had sufficient presence of mind to hold his breath. This was an easy feat to him. and remained a long time beneath the water. whose waves foamed and roared as if before the approach of a storm. he rapidly ripped up the sack. He fancied that these two forms were looking at the sea. whose projecting crags seemed like arms extended to seize their prey. When he arose a second time. rose phantom-like the vast stone structure. but in spite of all his efforts to free himself from the shot. at the moment when it seemed as if he were actually strangled. as is also the islet of Daume. doubtless these strange grave-diggers had heard his cry. Ratonneau and Pomegue are the nearest islands of all those that surround the Chateau d'If. With a mighty leap he rose to the surface of the sea. and then his body. while the shot dragged down to the depths the sack that had so nearly become his shroud. The islands of Tiboulen and Lemaire are a league from the Chateau d'If. extricated his arm. 186 .

"Well." said he. Then he put out his hand. when he saw him idle and inactive. but the sea was too violent. he kept the Island of Tiboulen a little on the left. continued to cleave the waves. gleaming in front of him like a star. you must not give way to this listlessness. "Let us see. it was at least a league from the Chateau d'If to this island. Fear. and strove to penetrate the darkness. It was the Island of Tiboulen. but he heard nothing. "Dantes. at the same time he felt a sharp pain in his knee. in order to rest himself. "I have swum above an hour. however." and he struck out with the energy of despair. and he felt that he could not make use of this means of recuperation.nevertheless. and your strength has not been properly exercised and prepared for exertion. He swam on still. that resembled nothing so much as a vast fire petrified at the moment of its most fervent combustion. as we have said. Before him rose a grotesque mass of rocks. He found with pleasure that his captivity had taken away nothing of his power. He fancied for a moment that he had been shot. during which Dantes." These words rang in Dantes' ears. he would find it. He fancied that every wave behind him was a pursuing boat. advanced a few steps. if I am not mistaken. Often in prison Faria had said to him. I must be close to Tiboulen. therefore. and then I shall sink. determined to make for them." said he. that relentless pursuer. He sought to tread water. But how could he find his way in the darkness of the night? At this moment he saw the light of Planier. that has retarded my speed. By leaving this light on the right. excited by the feeling of freedom. 187 . but he felt its presence. and every time that he rose to the top of a wave he scanned the horizon. He could not see it. or the cramp seizes me. But. you will be drowned if you seek to escape. increasing rapidly his distance from the chateau. and listened for the report. clogged Dantes' efforts. and he redoubled his exertions. by turning to the left. An hour passed. Suddenly the sky seemed to him to become still darker and more dense. Dantes rose. but exhausting his strength. but as the wind is against me. But what if I were mistaken?" A shudder passed over him. and heavy clouds seemed to sweep down towards him. and encountered an obstacle and with another stroke knew that he had gained the shore. he hastened to cleave his way through them to see if he had not lost his strength. He listened for any sound that might be audible. even beneath the waves. "I will swim on until I am worn out. and already the terrible chateau had disappeared in the darkness. and that he was still master of that element on whose bosom he had so often sported as a boy.

and bear him off into the centre of the storm. for their cries were carried to his ears by the wind. He extended his hands. A second after. Another flash showed him four men clinging to the shattered mast and the rigging. the waves. Then all was dark again. Dantes had not been deceived — he had reached the first of the two islands. and swim to Lemaire. he fell into the deep. stretched himself on the granite. lighting up the clouds that rolled on in vast chaotic waves. which seemed to him softer than down. He knew that it was barren and without shelter. he saw it again. in spite of the wind and rain. Dantes saw a fishing-boat driven rapidly like a spectre before the power of winds and waves. with a fervent prayer of gratitude. The men he beheld saw him undoubtedly. equally arid. Edmond felt the trembling of the rock beneath which he lay. He was safely sheltered.and. and yet he felt dizzy in the midst of the warring of the elements and the dazzling brightness of the lightning. and scarcely had he availed himself of it when the tempest burst forth in all its fury. 188 . and that it would. Above the splintered mast a sail rent to tatters was waving. break moorings. wetted him with their spray. suddenly the ropes that still held it gave way. but larger. Dantes from his rocky perch saw the shattered vessel. Tiboulen. and drank greedily of the rainwater that had lodged in a hollow of the rock. sweet sleep of utter exhaustion. a quarter of a league distant. in fact. but they saw it themselves. approaching with frightful rapidity. Then. As he rose. At the expiration of an hour Edmond was awakened by the roar of thunder. like a vessel at anchor. and cries of distress. between the Island of Lemaire and Cape Croiselle. but when the sea became more calm. By its light. He then recollected that he had not eaten or drunk for four-and-twenty hours. a flash of lightning. It seemed to him that the island trembled to its base. and it disappeared in the darkness of the night like a vast sea-bird. that seemed to rive the remotest heights of heaven. Dantes cried at the top of his voice to warn them of their danger. and among the fragments the floating forms of the hapless sailors. while a fifth clung to the broken rudder. which was. dashing themselves against it. At the same moment a violent crash was heard. from time to time a flash of lightning stretched across the heavens like a fiery serpent. he resolved to plunge into its waves again. and consequently better adapted for concealment. An overhanging rock offered him a temporary shelter. illumined the darkness. The tempest was let loose and beating the atmosphere with its mighty wings.

"the turnkey will enter my chamber. he groped about. "Oh. who are in reality smugglers. and do for me what I am unable to do for myself. I must wait. and was standing out to sea rapidly. these men. I am cold. I am hungry.Dantes ran down the rocks at the risk of being himself dashed to pieces. It was day. She was coming out of Marseilles harbor. I can pass as one of the sailors wrecked last night." As Dantes (his eyes turned in the direction of the Chateau d'If) uttered this prayer. The police of Marseilles will be on the alert by land. the men who cast me into the sea and who must have heard the cry I uttered. But I cannot —-I am starving. but he heard and saw nothing — the cries had ceased. will be questioned. I have suffered enough surely! Have pity on me. Soon a red streak became visible in the horizon. for there is no one left to contradict me. and indeed since his captivity in the Chateau d'If he had forgotten that such scenes were ever to be witnessed. and with his sailor's eye he knew it to be a Genoese tartan." cried Edmond. O my God. recognize it. and the tempest continued to rage." thought Dantes. He turned towards the fortress. will prefer selling me to doing a good action. the waves whitened. "In two or three hours. besides. and give the alarm. The cannon will warn every one to refuse shelter to a man wandering about naked and famished. and conveyed back to Marseilles! What can I do? What story can I invent? under pretext of trading along the coast. and looked at both sea and land. did I not fear being questioned. and gilded their foaming crests with gold. Then boats filled with armed soldiers will pursue the wretched fugitive. vast gray clouds rolled towards the west. seek for me in vain. It was about five o'clock. The gloomy building rose from the bosom of the ocean with imposing majesty and seemed to dominate the scene. he listened. Dantes stood mute and motionless before this majestic spectacle. I have lost even the knife that saved me." 189 . find the body of my poor friend. Then the tunnel will be discovered. By degrees the wind abated. My story will be accepted. perhaps I have not been missed at the fortress. as if he now beheld it for the first time. a light played over them. The sea continued to get calmer. detected. "to think that in half an hour I could join her. In a few hours my strength will be utterly exhausted. 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. her sharp prow cleaving through the waves. and the blue firmament appeared studded with bright stars. whilst the governor pursues me by sea.

making signs of distress. and one of them cried in Italian. perhaps. advanced rapidly towards him. and he was almost breathless. He soon saw that the vessel. though almost sure as to what course the vessel would take. but before they could meet. The two sailors redoubled their efforts. with the wind dead ahead. An instant after. between the islands of Jaros and Calaseraigne. and in one of its tacks the tartan bore down within a quarter of a mile of him. He shouted again. to reach the vessel — certainly to return to shore. he saw they were about to lower the boat. Dantes let go of the timber. had yet watched it anxiously until it tacked and stood towards him. This time he was both seen and heard. uttered a third cry. for without it he would have been unable. and the vessel stood on another tack. his legs lost their flexibility. "Courage!" The word reached his ear as a wave which he no longer had the strength to surmount passed over his head. and swam vigorously to meet them. In an instant Dantes' plan was formed. as if the fatal cannon shot were again 190 . Dantes. placed it on his head. the vessel and the swimmer insensibly neared one another. He swam to the cap. and started. For an instant he feared lest. floated at the foot of the crag. By a violent effort he rose half out of the water. and then he realized how serviceable the timber had been to him. "I am saved!" murmured he. At the same time. should he be unsuccessful in attracting attention. Then he advanced. Dantes would have shouted. but he soon saw that she would pass. but no one on board saw him. seized one of the timbers. His arms became stiff. And this conviction restored his strength. waving his cap. He rose again to the surface. and felt himself sinking. It was then he rejoiced at his precaution in taking the timber. the boat. But he had reckoned too much upon his strength. she should stand out to sea. struggled with the last desperate effort of a drowning man. which he now thought to be useless. was tacking between the Chateau d'If and the tower of Planier. and the tartan instantly steered towards him.As he spoke. the vessel again changed her course. and struck out so as to cut across the course the vessel was taking. However. like most vessels bound for Italy. instead of keeping in shore. but he knew that the wind would drown his voice. and uttering a loud shout peculiar to sailers. Dantes looked toward the spot where the fishing-vessel had been wrecked. He rose on the waves. rowed by two men. 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.

Leave me at the first port you make. then he saw and heard nothing. though. whom he recognized as the one who had cried out "Courage!" held a gourd full of rum to his mouth. in bad Italian. "I thank you again." "I almost hesitated. "Yes." "It was I. but today the vow expires. looked on with that egotistical pity men feel for a misfortune that they have escaped yesterday. at once the pilot and captain. His first care was to see what course they were taking. "I made a vow. and we were wrecked on these rocks. A sailor was rubbing his limbs with a woollen cloth. he was lying on the deck. The storm of last night overtook us at Cape Morgion. anything you please. and I thank you." replied the sailor. I have barely escaped. We were coming from Syracuse laden with grain. "I was lost when one of your sailors caught hold of my hair." "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." returned Dantes. another. for you were sinking. I shall be sure to find employment. My captain is dead.tied to his feet. with your beard six inches. but I am a good sailor. As we have said." continued Dantes." 191 ." replied Dantes. He had fainted. and fearful of being left to perish on the desolate island. I swam off on a piece of wreckage to try and intercept your course." "Now what are we to do with you?" said the captain. A convulsive movement again brought him to the surface. while the third. You have saved my life. "a Maltese sailor. 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." said a sailor of a frank and manly appearance. Dantes was so exhausted that the exclamation of joy he uttered was mistaken for a sigh. "Who are you?" said the pilot in bad French. and your hair a foot long. He felt himself seized by the hair. I saw your vessel. "Alas. "and it was time." "Yes. and which may overtake them to-morrow. "you looked more like a brigand than an honest man." said he. holding out his hand. an old sailer. while the friction of his limbs restored their elasticity. They were rapidly leaving the Chateau d'If behind. and the sky turned gray. When he opened his eyes Dantes found himself on the deck of the tartan. "I am. A few drops of the rum restored suspended animation." Dantes recollected that his hair and beard had not been cut all the time he was at the Chateau d'If. The water passed over his head.

"Haul taut. what hinders his staying with us?" "If he says true. for my food and the clothes you lend me. while the pilot looked on." This order was also executed. "To Leghorn." said Dantes." "Then why. "But in his present condition he will promise anything. "Bravo!" repeated the sailors." said Dantes. captain. 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. and it will be all right." "Give me what you give the others. "Belay. and take his chance of keeping it afterwards. The four seamen." said the seaman who had saved Dantes." "I will do more than I promise. instead of tacking so frequently." "I say. "I shall be of some use to you." returned the other."Do you know the Mediterranean?" "I have sailed over it since my childhood. if you are reasonable." "You shall pass it by twenty fathoms. "if what he says is true." said the captain. "We shall see. without being a first-rate sailer. "That's not fair." 192 ." "Take the helm. who composed the crew." — They obeyed. "You see. do you not sail nearer the wind?" "Because we should run straight on to the Island of Rion." said the captain doubtingly." returned Dantes." The young man took the helm. and let us see what you know. and I will pay you out of the first wages I get." said the sailor who had cried "Courage!" to Dantes." "Ah. "Where are you going?" asked Dantes. twenty fathoms to windward. "for you know more than we do. at least during the voyage. obeyed. felt to see if the vessel answered the rudder promptly and seeing that. "Bravo!" said the captain. as Dantes had predicted. you can leave me there." "You know the best harbors?" "There are few ports that I could not enter or leave with a bandage over my eyes. smiling. quitting the helm." said he. she yet was tolerably obedient. — "To the sheets. and the vessel passed. If you do not want me at Leghorn. "we can agree very well.

" "That is all I want. Dantes could thus keep his eyes on Marseilles. The sailors looked at one another." returned Jacopo. Dantes asked to take the helm. and Jacopo offered him the gourd. "A prisoner has escaped from the Chateau d'If. crowned the summit of the bastion of the Chateau d'If. if you have them. and they are firing the alarm gun. then. do you wish for anything else?" said the patron." replied Dantes. glad to be relieved. for I have made a rare acquisition. "Now. if the captain had any. "that I have almost lost my memory." He had not tasted food for forty hours." "No. It was fourteen years day for day since Dantes' arrest. "but I have a shirt and a pair of trousers. which had attracted Dantes' attention. A small white cloud." replied Jacopo. "What is this?" asked the captain. you would do much better to find him a jacket and a pair of trousers. "I only make a remark. He was nineteen when he entered the Chateau d'If. "At any rate. and the latter by a sign indicated that he might abandon it to his new comrade. "What is the day of the month?" asked he of Jacopo. so much the better."What is that to you. for I have not eaten or drunk for a long time. A piece of bread was brought. looked at the captain. "Larboard your helm. "A piece of bread and another glass of the capital rum I tasted." murmured he. died away." cried the captain to the steersman. "The 28th of February. then paused with hand in mid-air. "I ask you in what year!" "You have forgotten then?" "I got such a fright last night. Dantes glanced that way as he lifted the gourd to his mouth." "In what year?" "In what year — you ask me in what year?" "Yes." interrupted Dantes. "if it be. "Every one is free to ask what he pleases." said Jacopo. Jacopo dived into the hold and soon returned with what Edmond wanted. but he had lifted the rum to his lips and was drinking it with so much composure." Under pretence of being fatigued. who sat down beside him. the steersman." "Well. "Hollo! what's the matter at the Chateau d'If?" said the captain." replied Dantes. smiling. At the same moment the faint report of a gun was heard. Jacopo?" returned the Captain. I ask you what year is it?" "The year 1829. The captain glanced at him. 193 . that suspicions." "That's true." replied the young man.

194 . and Villefort the oath of implacable vengeance he had made in his dungeon. Fernand. This oath was no longer a vain menace. who must believe him dead. Then his eyes lighted up with hatred as he thought of the three men who had caused him so long and wretched a captivity. that with every stitch of canvas set was flying before the wind to Leghorn. he asked himself what had become of Mercedes. He renewed against Danglars. A sorrowful smile passed over his face. for the fastest sailer in the Mediterranean would have been unable to overtake the little tartan.he was thirty-three when he escaped.

either with the vessels he met at sea. persons always troublesome and frequently indiscreet. he was instantly struck with the idea that he had on board his vessel one whose coming and going. and who live by hidden and mysterious means which we must suppose to be a direct gift of providence. This made him less uneasy. At first the captain had received Dantes on board with a certain degree of distrust. country. as they have no visible means of support. or with the people without name. while it spared him interpreters. Without having been in the school of the Abbe Faria. Edmond thus had the advantage of knowing what the owner was. but this supposition also disappeared like the first. who are always seen on the quays of seaports. who perhaps employed this ingenious means of learning some of the secrets of his trade.Chapter 22 The Smugglers. than if the new-comer had proved to be a customs officer. 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. and this. like that of kings. and as there was between these worthies and himself a perpetual battle of wits. he had at first thought that Dantes might be an emissary of these industrious guardians of rights and duties. and heard the distant report. or occupation. was accompanied with salutes of artillery. with the small boats sailing along the coast. when he beheld the perfect tranquillity of his recruit. But the skilful manner in which Dantes had handled the lugger had entirely reassured him. without the owner knowing who he was. 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. and then. when he saw the light plume of smoke floating above the bastion of the Chateau d'If. it must be owned. It is fair to assume that Dantes was on board a smuggler. He was very well known to the customs officers of the coast. from the Arabic to the Provencal. gave him great facilities of communication. and however the old sailor and 195 .

when the features are encircled with black hair. The oval face was lengthened. and his hair reduced to its usual length. three-and-thirty years of age. his eyes were full of melancholy. and who anticipates a future corresponding with his past. Here Edmond was to undergo another trial. and his fourteen years' imprisonment had produced a great transformation in his appearance. the aristocratic beauty of the man of the north. thick and black hair and beard. subtle as he was. and believe nothing but what they should believe. When the operation was concluded. in whose favor his mild demeanor. had now that pale color which produces. as we have said. now a barber would only be surprised if a man gifted with such advantages should consent voluntarily to deprive himself of them. In this state of mutual understanding. which he knew as well as Marseilles. and from their depths occasionally sparkled gloomy fires of misanthropy and hatred. Thus the Genoese. his complexion. was duped by Edmond. The Leghorn barber said nothing and went to work. 196 . and Edmond felt that his chin was completely smooth. The barber gazed in amazement at this man with the long. they reached Leghorn. He had preserved a tolerably good remembrance of what the youth had been. Moreover. pleaded. This was now all changed. he asked for a hand-glass.his crew tried to "pump" him. and held stoutly to his first story. and he had also acquired. his eyebrows were arched beneath a brow furrowed with thought. he remembered a barber in St. He was now. as he had not seen his own face for fourteen years. Dantes had entered the Chateau d'If with the round. they extracted nothing more from him. As he had twenty times touched at Leghorn. his nautical skill. he was to find out whether he could recognize himself. it is possible that the Genoese was one of those shrewd persons who know nothing but what they should know. smiling face of a young and happy man. the profound learning he had acquired had besides diffused over his features a refined intellectual expression. he went there to have his beard and hair cut. and his admirable dissimulation. with whom the early paths of life have been smooth. His comrades believed that his vow was fulfilled. his smiling mouth had assumed the firm and marked lines which betoken resolution. so long kept from the sun. Ferdinand Street. he gave accurate descriptions of Naples and Malta. At this period it was not the fashion to wear so large a beard and hair so long. open. which gave his head the appearance of one of Titian's portraits. and was now to find out what the man had become. being naturally of a goodly stature.

would not agree for a longer time than three months. and body soaking in seabrine. indeed. It was in this costume. from being so long in twilight or darkness. and consisting of white trousers. as we all know. Attracted by his prepossessing appearance. a striped shirt. prayers. common to the hyena and the wolf. The next morning going on deck. where certain speculators undertook to forward the cargo to France. and imprecations had changed it so that at times it was of a singularly penetrating sweetness. Edmond was again cleaving the azure sea which had been the first horizon of his youth. which the rising sun tinged with rosy light. and at others rough and almost hoarse. They sailed. He had scarcely been a week at Leghorn before the hold of his vessel was filled with printed muslins. who was very desirous of retaining amongst his crew a man of Edmond's value. or recognize in the neat and trim sailor the man with thick and matted beard. which Edmond had accepted. and land it on the shores of Corsica. Edmond smiled when he beheld himself: it was impossible that his best friend — if. who had made him tell his story over and over again before he could believe him. the patron found Dantes leaning against the bulwarks gazing with intense earnestness at a pile of granite rocks. To the elegance of a nervous and slight form had succeeded the solidity of a rounded and muscular figure. The master of The Young Amelia. and tobacco on which the excise had forgotten to put its mark. English powder. hair tangled with seaweed. who had his own projects. whom he had picked up naked and nearly drowned. As to his voice. and which he had so often dreamed of in prison. It was the Island of Monte 197 . had offered to advance him funds out of his future profits. sobs. He left Gorgone on his right and La Pianosa on his left. contraband cottons. The master was to get all this out of Leghorn free of duties. and a cap. and bringing back to Jacopo the shirt and trousers he had lent him. Moreover.that vigor which a frame possesses which has so long concentrated all its force within itself. very simple. The Young Amelia had a very active crew. and went towards the country of Paoli and Napoleon. very obedient to their captain. but Dantes. his eyes had acquired the faculty of distinguishing objects in the night. that Edmond reappeared before the captain of the lugger. as he always did at an early hour. 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. who lost as little time as possible. he could not recognize himself. he had any friend left — could recognize him. he renewed his offers of an engagement to Dantes.

continued to behold it last of all. he had waited fourteen years for his liberty. and Edmond saw the island tinged with the shades of twilight. 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. as they passed so closely to the island whose name was so interesting to him. The second operation was as successful as the first. or about eighty francs. The same night. Dantes had learned how to wait. which was to replace what had been discharged. had they not died with him? It is true. all day they coasted. the letter of the Cardinal Spada was singularly circumstantial. and now he was free he could wait at least six months or a year for wealth. for he remained alone upon deck. which. without arms to defend himself? Besides. and each man had a hundred Tuscan livres. and kept on for Corsica. The Young Amelia was in luck. Fortunately. without making much noise. for he had not forgotten a word. But then what could he do without instruments to discover his treasure. were not those riches chimerical? — offspring of the brain of the poor Abbe Faria. in acknowledgement of the compliment. Dantes thought. what would the sailors say? What would the patron think? He must wait. such a man of regularity was the patron of The Young Amelia. which. from one end to the other. The next morn broke off the coast of Aleria. and they came to within a gunshot of the shore. that he had only to leap into the sea and in half an hour be at the promised land. Four shallops came off with very little noise alongside the lugger. the position of these was no doubt a signal for landing. and Dantes repeated it to himself. But the voyage was not ended. the profits were divided. for a ship's lantern was hung up at the mast-head instead of the streamer. and in the evening saw fires lighted on land. lowered her own shallop into the sea. for he. Evening came. But on this occasion the precaution was superfluous. mounted two small culverins. and then disappear in the darkness from all eyes but his own. The Young Amelia left it three-quarters of a league to the larboard. Would he not have accepted liberty without riches if it had been offered to him? Besides.Cristo. and everything proceeded with the utmost smoothness and politeness. They turned the bowsprit towards Sardinia. as he neared the land. can throw a four ounce ball a thousand paces or so. with vision accustomed to the gloom of a prison. This new 198 . no doubt. where they intended to take in a cargo.

Edmond. as the poor Abbe Faria had been his tutor. for they were rude lessons which taught him with what eye he could view danger. He pointed out to him the bearings of the coast. his heart was in a fair way of petrifying in his bosom. who had nothing to expect from his comrade but the inheritance of his share of the prize-money. thanks to the favorable winds that swelled her sails. As a result of the sympathetic devotion which Jacopo had from the first bestowed on Edmond. He had contemplated danger with a smile. And from this time the kindness which Edmond showed him was enough for the brave seaman. and with what endurance he could bear suffering.cargo was destined for the coast of the Duchy of Lucca. the everlasting enemy of the patron of The Young Amelia. who instinctively felt that Edmond had a right to superiority of position — a superiority which Edmond had concealed from all others. and almost pleased at being wounded. had believed him killed. thou art not an evil. sherry. gliding on with security over the azure sea. or the chill of human sentiment. manifested so much sorrow when he saw him fall. and with certain herbs gathered at certain seasons." He had. Edmond then resolved to try Jacopo. and offered him in return for his attention a share of his prizemoney. But this sufficed for Jacopo. the wound soon closed. required no care but the hand of the helmsman. and. This world was not then so good as Doctor Pangloss believed it. in truth. the excise was. when the vessel. a ball having touched him in the left shoulder. Edmond was only wounded. became the instructor of Jacopo. with a chart in his hand. Fortunately. and when wounded had exclaimed with the great philosopher. and two sailors wounded. Dantes was almost glad of this affray. A customs officer was laid low. and taught him to read 199 . but Jacopo refused it indignantly. and Malaga wines. and rushing towards him raised him up. and sold to the smugglers by the old Sardinian women. Dantes was one of the latter. Jacopo. and was moving towards the end he wished to achieve. and consisted almost entirely of Havana cigars. "Pain. There they had a bit of a skirmish in getting rid of the duties. since this man. whether from heat of blood produced by the encounter. the latter was moved to a certain degree of affection. as we have said. Then in the long days on board ship. seeing him fall. looked upon the customs officer wounded to death. moreover. neither was it so wicked as Dantes thought it. this sight had made but slight impression upon him. and then attended to him with all the kindness of a devoted comrade. Dantes was on the way he desired to follow. explained to him the variations of the compass.

It was necessary to find some neutral ground on which an exchange could be made. who had great confidence in him. which being completely deserted. and having 200 . He then formed a resolution. Dantes was tossed about on these doubts and wishes. who supplied the whole coast for nearly two hundred leagues in extent. Two months and a half elapsed in these trips. stuffs of the Levant. became emperor. "Who knows? You may one day be the captain of a vessel. Prison had made Edmond prudent. took him by the arm one evening and led him to a tavern on the Via del' Oglio. 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. As soon as his engagement with the patron of The Young Amelia ended. connected with a vessel laden with Turkey carpets. The patron of The Young Amelia proposed as a place of landing the Island of Monte Cristo. And when Jacopo inquired of him. "What is the use of teaching all these things to a poor sailor like me?" Edmond replied. when the patron. there would be a gain of fifty or sixty piastres each for the crew." We had forgotten to say that Jacopo was a Corsican. This time it was a great matter that was under discussion. and was very desirous of retaining him in his service. but not once had he found an opportunity of landing there. He had passed and re-passed his Island of Monte Cristo twenty times. where the leading smugglers of Leghorn used to congregate and discuss affairs connected with their trade. he had formed an acquaintance with all the smugglers on the coast. Bonaparte. If the venture was successful the profit would be enormous. But in this world we must risk something. and cashmeres. and seeing all these hardy that vast book opened over our heads which they call heaven. Already Dantes had visited this maritime Bourse two or three times. But in vain did he rack his imagination. and where God writes in azure with letters of diamonds. Then he would be free to make his researches. fertile as it was. Your fellow-countryman. he would hire a small vessel on his own account — for in his several voyages he had amassed a hundred piastres — and under some pretext land at the Island of Monte Cristo. he could not devise any plan for reaching the island without companionship. and then to try and land these goods on the coast of France. and Edmond had become as skilful a coaster as he had been a hardy seaman. for he would be doubtless watched by those who accompanied him. and he was desirous of running no risk whatever. and learned all the Masonic signs by which these half pirates recognize each other.

and orders were given to get under weigh next night. to make the neutral island by the following day. and. classes of mankind which we in modern times have separated if not made distinct. where all the languages of the known world were jumbled in a lingua franca. and that great enterprises to be well done should be done quickly. and took a turn around the smoky tavern. 201 . but which antiquity appears to have included in the same category. it had been decided that they should touch at Monte Cristo and set out on the following night. the god of merchants and robbers. he rose to conceal his emotion. seemed to have been placed in the midst of the ocean since the time of the heathen Olympus by Mercury. When he again joined the two persons who had been discussing the matter. being consulted.neither soldiers nor revenue officers. Edmond. At the mention of Monte Cristo Dantes started with joy. wind and weather permitting. was of opinion that the island afforded every possible security. Nothing then was altered in the plan.

Edmond. and with it the preparation for departure. 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. 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. wonderstruck. The night was one of feverish distraction. and was almost as feverish as the night had been. Dantes was about to secure the opportunity he wished for. distinct. the treasure disappeared. and Dantes was then enabled to arrange a plan which had hitherto been vague and unsettled in his brain. but it brought reason to the aid of imagination. amazed. and the roof glowing with diamond stalactites. He had by degrees assumed such authority over his companions that he was almost like a commander on board. and land on the island without incurring any suspicion. as subterranean waters filter in their caves. 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. by simple and natural means. 202 . One night more and he would be on his way. and easy of execution. and these preparations served to conceal Dantes' agitation. when be discovered that his prizes had all changed into common pebbles. filled his pockets with the radiant gems and then returned to daylight.Chapter 23 The Island of Monte Cristo. and in its progress visions good and evil passed through Dantes' mind. and now the path became a labyrinth. and then the entrance vanished. All was useless. He ascended into grottos paved with emeralds. Pearls fell drop by drop. with panels of rubies. his comrades obeyed him with celerity and pleasure. Thus. He then endeavored to re-enter the marvellous grottos. The day came at length. and had again reverted to the genii from whom for a moment he had hoped to carry it off. and as his orders were always clear. If he closed his eyes. but they had suddenly receded. Night came.

When the patron awoke. and a mist passed over his eyes. but. The peak of Monte Cristo reddened by the burning sun. Night came. in spite of a sleepless night. for he too had recognized the superiority of Dantes over the crew and himself. and from time to time his cheeks flushed. and what solitude is more complete. as he knew that he should shorten his course by two or three knots. and all went to their bunks contentedly. Dantes ordered the helmsman to put down his helm. the night lighted up by his illusions. as the boat was about to double the Island of Elba. Never did gamester. cast from solitude into the world. When the Maltese (for so they called Dantes) had said this. and at ten o'clock they anchored. The Young Amelia was first at the rendezvous. and went and lay down in his hammock. and the silence animated by his anticipations. and under the eye of heaven? Now this solitude was peopled with his thoughts. They were making nearly ten knots an hour. and every sail full with the breeze. At seven o'clock in the evening all was ready. his brow darkened. in which God also lighted up in turn his beacon lights. About five o'clock in the evening the island was distinct. experience the anguish which Edmond felt in his paroxysms of hope. and. owing to that clearness of the atmosphere peculiar to the light which the rays of the sun cast at its setting. In spite of his usual 203 . or more poetical. and he would take the helm. and regretted that he had not a daughter. the vessel was hurrying on with every sail set. in order to leave La Pianosa to starboard. they sailed beneath a bright blue sky.The old patron did not interfere. and beyond the flat but verdant Island of La Pianosa. was seen against the azure sky. than that of a ship floating in isolation on the sea during the obscurity of the night. Edmond resigned the lugger to the master's care. and at ten minutes past seven they doubled the lighthouse just as the beacon was kindled. in the silence of immensity. They were just abreast of Mareciana. This frequently happened. that he might have bound Edmond to him by a more secure alliance. The Island of Monte Cristo loomed large in the horizon. he could not close his eyes for a moment. frequently experienced an imperious desire for solitude. each of which is a world. from the brightest pink to the deepest blue. Edmond gazed very earnestly at the mass of rocks which gave out all the variety of twilight colors. whose whole fortune is staked on one cast of the die. He saw in the young man his natural successor. and everything on it was plainly perceptible. with a fresh breeze from the south-east. it was sufficient. Dantes. Dantes told them that all hands might turn in. Two hours afterwards he came on deck. The sea was calm.

indicated that the moment for business had come. The point was. Fortunately. and Dantes therefore delayed all investigation until the morning. The boat that now arrived." "I do not know of any grottos. for the sake of greater security. he almost feared that he had already said too much." replied Jacopo. a signal made half a league out at sea. far from disclosing this precious secret. and cast anchor within a cable's length of shore. if he gave utterance to the one unchanging thought that pervaded his heart. and shot. on board the tartan. soon came in sight. The cold sweat sprang forth on Dantes' brow. Dantes declared his intention to go and kill some of the wild goats that were seen springing from rock to rock. Then the landing began. No one had the slightest suspicion. Besides. white and silent as a phantom. as he worked." replied the sailor. "Where shall we pass the night?" he inquired. assured by the answering signal that all was well. The island was familiar to the crew of The Young Amelia. He questioned Jacopo. he had passed it on his voyage to and from the Levant. whose every wave she silvered. As to Dantes. and to which The Young Amelia replied by a similar signal. then he remembered that these caves might have been filled up by some accident. as regarded this circumstance at least. 204 . with a single word. It was useless to search at night. "None. Dantes could not restrain his impetuosity. he could evoke from all these men. like Lucius Brutus. Dantes reflected. "ascending high. by Cardinal Spada. — it was one of her regular haunts. but. "Why." For a moment Dantes was speechless. aroused suspicions. have "kissed his mother earth. "What. and then. and by his restlessness and continual questions. are there no grottos at Monte Cristo?" he asked. he would. powder. on the shout of joy which. his minute observations and evident pre-occupation. "Should we not do better in the grottos?" "What grottos?" "Why. or even stopped up. and the glimmerings of gayety seen beneath this cloud were indeed but transitory. then. He was the first to jump on shore. his painful past gave to his countenance an indelible sadness. taking a fowling-piece.command over himself. but at eleven o'clock the moon rose in the midst of the ocean." played in floods of pale light on the rocky hills of this second Pelion. the grottos — caves of the island. and had he dared. to discover the hidden entrance. and when next day. but never touched at it." It was dark.

he thought he could trace. The wise. "these persons will depart richer by fifty piastres each. So Edmond had to separate the branches or brush away the moss to know where the guidemarks were. which encrusts all physical substances with its mossy mantle. he saw. and Dantes did not oppose this. and who were all busy preparing the repast which Edmond's skill as a marksman had augmented with a capital dish. Oh. looking from time to time behind and around about him. having killed a kid. his companions. fearing if he did so that he might incur distrust. Might 205 . However. to go and risk their lives again by endeavoring to gain fifty more. as it invests all things of the mind with forgetfulness. The sight of marks renewed Edmond fondest hopes. who but three months before had no desire but liberty had now not liberty enough. consider such a contemptible possession as the utmost happiness. "In two hours' time. Keeping along the shore. At this moment hope makes me despise their riches. The cause was not in Dantes. and when ready to let him know by firing a gun." said he. by a cleft between two walls of rock. Besides. Jacopo insisted on following him. in all human probability. he begged Jacopo to take it to his comrades. Meanwhile. or a desire for solitude. and which. Edmond looked at them for a moment with the sad and gentle smile of a man superior to his fellows. and examining the smallest object with serious attention. that I shall. unerring Faria could not be mistaken in this one thing. "that will not be. Yet perchance to-morrow deception will so act on me. which spread into large bushes laden with blossoms. human foot had never before trod. and panted for wealth. a thousand feet beneath him. Having reached the summit of a rock. Occasionally the marks were hidden under tufts of myrtle. it were better to die than to continue to lead this low and wretched life. whom Jacopo had rejoined. however. which seem to me contemptible. on compulsion. Dantes approached the spot where he supposed the grottos must have existed. while limiting the power of man. or beneath parasitical lichen. Time. and request them to cook it. who.his wish was construed into a love of sport. but in providence." Thus Dantes. and probably with a definite purpose. was the bill of fare. on certain rocks. which apparently had been made with some degree of regularity. following a path worn by a torrent. Scarcely. seemed to have respected these signs. had they gone a quarter of a league when. marks made by the hand of man. This and some dried fruits and a flask of Monte Pulciano. then they will return with a fortune of six hundred francs. no!" exclaimed Edmond. and waste this treasure in some city with the pride of sultans and the insolence of nabobs. Dantes went on. has filled him with boundless desires.

but he insisted that his comrades. and he therefore turned round and retraced his steps. to Edmond. spread out the fruit and bread. 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. and that when they returned he should be easier. As for himself. although under Jacopo's not have been the cardinal himself who had first traced them. He found Edmond lying prone. An hour afterwards they returned. who had not his reasons for fasting. They were hungry. however. had got some water from a spring. and they saw him stagger on the edge of a rock and disappear. placed solidly on its base. They poured a little rum down his throat. and they fired the signal agreed upon. They wished to carry him to the shore. he declared. All that Edmond had been able to do 206 . nor did they terminate at any grotto. a feeling of heaviness in his head. bleeding. The sportsman instantly changed his direction. in order that they might serve as a guide for his nephew in the event of a catastrophe. produced the same effect as formerly. should have their meal. Meanwhile his comrades had prepared the repast. they saw Edmond springing with the boldness of a chamois from rock to rock. and almost senseless. He had rolled down a declivity of twelve or fifteen feet. Edmond opened his eyes. Edmond's foot slipped. and severe pains in his loins. and ran quickly towards them. This solitary place was precisely suited to the requirements of a man desirous of burying treasure. yet Jacopo reached him first. Edmond concluded that perhaps instead of having reached the end of the route he had only explored its beginning. with heavy groans. that at sixty paces from the harbor the marks ceased. complained of great pain in his knee. It may be supposed that Dantes did not now think of his dinner. A large round rock. and this remedy which had before been so beneficial to him. But even while they watched his daring progress. They all rushed towards him. The sailors did not require much urging. Just at the moment when they were taking the dainty animal from the spit. and cooked the kid. which he could not foresee would have been so complete. he declared that he had only need of a little rest. and your tars are not very ceremonious. that he could not bear to be moved. Only. but when they touched him. and the smell of the roasted kid was very savory. for all loved Edmond in spite of his superiority. who was hidden from his comrades by the inequalities of the ground. was the only spot to which they seemed to lead.

" said Jacopo." said the patron. If you do not come across one." said the patron. return for me. with sails partly set. The old patron. We will not go till evening." was Edmond reply. which was rolling on the swell in the little harbor. "He has broken his ribs. that I may build a shelter if you delay in coming back for me. desire them to come here to me." said the patron." 207 . "than suffer the inexpressible agonies which the slightest movement causes me." This very much astonished the sailors. although. in a low voice. But. "let what may happen. "What are we to do." The patron turned towards his vessel." "But you'll die of hunger. Edmond made great exertions in order to comply. "and then we must run out of our course to come here and take you up again. "Listen. there's one way of settling this. and balls. no." said Dantes. "No. between Nice and Frejus. and a pickaxe. who was obliged to sail in the morning in order to land his cargo on the frontiers of Piedmont and France. and. or even delay in its execution. and yet we cannot stay. "We shall be absent at least a week." he said to the patron. Captain Baldi. Dantes would not allow that any such infraction of regular and proper rules should be made in his favor. to kill the kids or defend myself at need." said the commander. powder. "I would rather do so." "Go. We will try and carry him on board the tartan. but at each effort he fell back. it shall never be said that we deserted a good comrade like you. moaning and turning pale.was to drag himself about a dozen paces forward to lean against a mossgrown rock. Leave me a small supply of biscuit. however." Dantes declared." The patron shook his head. "Do you go. he is an excellent fellow. The patron was so strict that this was the first time they had ever seen him give up an enterprise. would be ready for sea when her toilet should be completed. urged Dantes to try and rise. "if in two or three days you hail any fishing-boat. go!" exclaimed Dantes. and it is just that I pay the penalty of my clumsiness. "Well. and I will stay and take care of the wounded man. "No matter." "Why. Maltese?" asked the captain. Dantes' pains appeared to increase in violence. I will pay twenty-five piastres for my passage back to Leghorn. a gun. and we must not leave him. instead of growing easier. "I was awkward. "We cannot leave you here so. not one opposed it. that he would rather die where he was than undergo the agony which the slightest movement cost him.

but not without turning about several times. when they had disappeared. — "'Tis strange that it should be among such men that we find proofs of friendship and devotion. and." Then he dragged himself cautiously to the top of a rock. open sesame!" 208 . "And now. At the end of an hour she was completely out of sight. to which Edmond replied with his hand only. from which he had a full view of the sea. at least. and thence he saw the tartan complete her preparations for sailing."And give up your share of the venture. set sail. The smugglers left with Edmond what he had requested and set sail. "now. balancing herself as gracefully as a water-fowl ere it takes to the wing. "and heaven will recompense you for your generous intentions. and I hope I shall find among the rocks certain herbs most excellent for bruises. A day or two of rest will set me up." A peculiar smile passed over Dantes' lips. which Faria had related to him. it was impossible for the wounded man to see her any longer from the spot where he was. and each time making signs of a cordial farewell." said Edmond. his pickaxe in the other. "and without any hesitation. he said with a smile. but nothing could shake his determination to remain — and remain alone. Then Dantes rose more agile and light than the kid among the myrtles and shrubs of these wild rocks." "You are a good fellow and a kind-hearted messmate. but I do not wish any one to stay with me. and hastened towards the rock on which the marks he had noted terminated. Then. weigh anchor." said Jacopo. "to remain with me?" "Yes. remembering the tale of the Arabian fisherman. as if he could not move the rest of his body. took his gun in one hand." replied Edmond." he exclaimed. he squeezed Jacopo's hand warmly.

following an opposite direction. At every step that Edmond took he disturbed the lizards glittering with the hues of the emerald. But it was not upon Corsica.Chapter 24 The Secret Cave. the very houses of which he could distinguish. This feeling was so strong that at the moment when Edmond was about to begin his labor. chirped with a monotonous and dull note. he stopped. while the blue ocean beat against the base of the island. that he gazed. The first was just disappearing in the straits of Bonifacio. with its historical associations. and covered it with a fringe of foam. In a word. The sun had nearly reached the meridian. for he dreaded lest an accident similar to that he had so adroitly feigned should happen in reality. and from thence gazed round in every direction. or on Sardinia. seized his gun. guided by the hand of God. and his scorching rays fell full on the rocks. He then looked at the objects near him. afar off he saw the wild goats bounding from crag to crag. or on the Island of Elba. He saw that he was on the highest point of the island. laid down his pickaxe. which seemed themselves sensible of the heat. mounted to the summit of the highest rock. nothing human appearing in sight. — a statue on this vast pedestal of granite. the leaves of the myrtle and olive trees waved and rustled in the wind. and Leghorn the commercial. It was at the brigantine that had left in the morning. yet Edmond felt himself alone. the island was inhabited. Then he descended with cautious and slow step. that Edmond fixed his eyes. 209 . and the tartan that had just set sail. Thousands of grasshoppers. This sight reassured him. hidden in the bushes. the other. 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. was about to round the Island of Corsica. or upon the almost imperceptible line that to the experienced eye of a sailor alone revealed the coast of Genoa the proud.

had been so skilfully used to guide him through the Daedalian labyrinth of probabilities. Dantes dug away the earth carefully. he thought that the Cardinal Spada. One thing only perplexed Edmond. thousands of insects escaped 210 . to admit of the entrance of a small vessel of the lugger class. and he had noticed that they led to a small creek. and destroyed his theory. Instead of raising it. which was hidden like the bath of some ancient nymph. flints and pebbles had been inserted around it. and saw the horn full of powder which his friend Jacopo had left him. and deep in the centre. And he sprang from the rock in order to inspect the base on which it had formerly stood. the infernal invention would serve him for this purpose. to be moved by any one man. anxious not to be watched. without the aid of many men? Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind. so as to conceal the orifice. followed the line marked by the notches in the rock. He smiled. or fancied he detected. myrtle-bushes had taken root. this species of masonry had been covered with earth. A large stone had served as a wedge. Then following the clew that. then made a match by rolling his handkerchief in saltpetre. Dantes saw that he must attack the wedge. and used it as a lever. which weighed several tons. dug a mine between the upper rock and the one that supported it. the ingenious artifice. have been lifted to this spot. with his pickaxe. thought he. filled it with powder. and the rock had slid along this until it stopped at the spot it now occupied. The explosion soon followed. and the old rock seemed fixed to the earth. had entered the creek. as we have said. stripped off its branches. which would be perfectly concealed from observation. cemented by the hand of time. and too firmly wedged. This creek was sufficiently wide at its mouth. With the aid of his pickaxe. and detected. the lower one flew into pieces. and at the end of it had buried his treasure. were he Hercules himself. But how? He cast his eyes around. It was this idea that had brought Dantes back to the circular rock. and a hole large enough to insert the arm was opened.Dantes. inserted it in the hole. they have lowered it. How could this rock. the upper rock was lifted from its base by the terrific force of the powder. concealed his little barque. moss had clung to the stones. He soon perceived that a slope had been formed. He lighted it and retired. and grass and weeds had grown there. After ten minutes' labor the wall gave way. But the rock was too heavy. He attacked this wall. in the hands of the Abbe Faria. after the manner of a laborsaving pioneer. Dantes went and cut the strongest olive-tree he could find. had traced the marks along the rocks. Dantes.

this is an adventure worthy a place in the varied career of that royal bandit. and finally disappeared in the ocean. perhaps he never came here. The rock. and descending before me. and reflected. and a huge snake. perhaps two guards kept watch on land and sea. Dantes uttered a cry of joy and surprise. Dantes approached the upper rock. and. that he was forced to pause. What." He remained motionless and pensive. and strained every nerve to move the mass. then. placed his lever in one of the crevices. yes. discovered his traces. has left me nothing. has followed him. and his sight became so dim. Yes. selecting the spot from whence it appeared most susceptible to attack. at the foot of this rock. Edmond inserted his lever in the ring and exerted all his strength. the Cardinal Spada buried no treasure here. who uprooted the mountains to hurl against the father of the gods. a sword in the other. never had a first attempt been crowned with more perfect success. as I 211 . I must not be cast down by the discovery that I have been deceived. the intrepid adventurer. or if he did. leaned towards the sea. and his heart beat so violently." And he remained again motionless and thoughtful. the stealthy and indefatigable plunderer. which now. and within twenty paces. and disclosed steps that descended until they were lost in the obscurity of a subterraneous grotto. "Now that I expect nothing. like the guardian demon of the treasure. "Come. the end of this adventure becomes simply a matter of curiosity. he seemed like one of the ancient Titans. rolled himself along in darkening coils. The rock yielded. "Yes. The intrepid treasure-seeker walked round it. his eyes fixed on the gloomy aperture that was open at his feet. raised the stone. it sees all its illusions destroyed. now that I no longer entertain the slightest hopes. exposing an iron ring let into a square flag-stone. Borgia has been here. Any one else would have rushed on with a cry of joy. while their master descended. Faria has dreamed this. already shaken by the explosion. the flag-stone yielded. after having been elated by flattering hopes. On the spot it had occupied was a circular space. This feeling lasted but for a moment. and disappeared. a torch in one hand. pursued them as I have done. "be a man." said he to himself. hesitated.from the aperture Dantes had previously formed. He would fain have continued. bounded from point to point. Dantes turned pale. but his knees trembled. This fabulous event formed but a link in a long chain of marvels. would be the use of all I have suffered? The heart breaks when. Caesar Borgia. rolled over. I am accustomed to adversity. tottered on its base. Dantes redoubled his efforts. without any support.

smiling. struck the earth with the butt of his gun. but by the interstices and crevices of the rock which were visible from without. dispelling the darkness before his awe-inspiring progress." But he called to mind the words of the will. "these are the treasures the cardinal has left. and the thick and mephitic atmosphere he had expected to find. The pickaxe struck for a moment with a dull sound that drew out of Dantes' forehead large drops of perspiration. had he come. Dantes' eye. returned to that part of the wall whence issued the consoling sound he had before heard. and Borgia. not merely by the aperture he had just formed. After having stood a few minutes in the cavern. like Caesar Borgia. and the tendrils of the creepers that grew from the rocks. the opening must be. which. "Perhaps!" But instead of the darkness. smiling. Dantes saw a dim and bluish light. However." Then he descended." "Yet. which was of granite that sparkled like diamonds. entered. Dantes continued his search. I will go down. knew the value of time. "In the farthest angle of the second opening. knew too well the value of time to waste it in replacing this rock. he who compared Italy to an artichoke. which he knew by heart. and murmuring that last word of human about to descend. "of those who buried Alaric. saw that there. "Alas. and sounded one part of the wall where he fancied the opening existed. and with the quickness of perception that no one but a prisoner possesses. habituated as it was to darkness. he had now to seek the second. and the good abbe." "But what was the fate of the guards who thus possessed his secret?" asked Dantes of himself." replied he. "The fate. could pierce even to the remotest angles of the cavern. he examined the stones. and." said Edmond. has indulged in fallacious hopes. and with 212 . in all probability. he. At last it seemed to him that one part of the wall gave forth a more hollow and deeper echo. seeing in a dream these glittering walls. "he would have found the treasure." said the cardinal's will. a smile on his lips. He reflected that this second grotto must penetrate deeper into the island. He again struck it. in order to avoid fruitless toil." thought Dantes. He had only found the first grotto. he eagerly advanced. as well as the air. which he could devour leaf by leaf. and through which he could distinguish the blue sky and the waving branches of the evergreen oaks. masked for precaution's sake. the atmosphere of which was rather warm than damp. he sounded all the other walls with his pickaxe. and finding nothing that appeared suspicious.

was now like a feather in his grasp. or rather fell. At the left of the opening was a dark and deep angle. attacked the ground with the pickaxe. Dantes had tasted nothing. and again entered the cavern. The treasure. passed his hand over his brow. but by waiting. the pickaxe descended. and retard the certainty of deception. He had nothing more to do now. The time had at length arrived. At last. and fell to the ground in flakes. so did his heart give way. he seized it. then this stucco had been applied. He advanced towards the angle. The island was deserted. Then a singular thing occurred. After several blows he perceived that the stones were not cemented. pieces of stucco similar to that used in the ground work of arabesques broke off. exposing a large white stone. as an excuse. and remounted the stairs. The aperture of the rock had been closed with stones. he placed it on the ground. and Dantes' fate would be decided. But to Dantes' eye there was no darkness. with joy soon saw the stone turn as if on hinges. As he struck the wall. and then went on. But by some strange play of emotion. like the first. Dantes entered the second grotto. alleging to himself. if it existed. It was there he must dig. empty. and painted to imitate granite. but he thought not of hunger at such a moment. He glanced around this second grotto. had not been deceived became stronger. 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. he could still cling to hope. deprived him of it. in proportion as the proofs that Faria. Dantes struck with the sharp end of his pickaxe. and summoning all his resolution. He waited in order to allow pure air to displace the foul atmosphere. and covered with stucco. but in reality because he felt that he was about to faint. was buried in this corner. it was. after renewed hesitation. The pickaxe that had seemed so heavy. but had been merely placed one upon the other. two feet of earth removed. a desire to be assured that no one was watching him. and the sun seemed to cover it with its fiery glance. he inserted the point of his pickaxe. and using the handle as a lever. The second grotto was lower and more gloomy than the first. afar off. but with the iron tooth of the pickaxe to draw the stones towards him one by one. and a feeling of discouragement stole over him.greater force. which entered someway between the interstices. and fall at his feet. and attacked the wall. The aperture was already sufficiently large for him to enter. This last proof. instead of giving him fresh strength. he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum. At the fifth or sixth blow the 213 . a few small fishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean.

placed between two padlocks. and the chest was open. but Dantes feared lest the report of his gun should attract attention. in the middle of the lid he saw engraved on a silver plate. all carved as things were carved at that epoch. and strove to lift the coffer. Had Dantes found nothing he could not have become more ghastly pale. and descended with this torch. The hinges yielded in their turn and fell. 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. and Dantes could see an oaken coffer. with the aid of the torch. He wished to see everything. and surmounted by a cardinal's hat. Dantes seized the handles. in the 214 . were ranged bars of unpolished gold. He again struck his pickaxe into the earth. a sword. and stood motionless with amazement.. There was no longer any doubt: the treasure was there — no one would have been at such pains to conceal an empty casket. and pressing with all his force on the handle. the arms of the Spada family — viz. burst open the fastenings. lighted it at the fire at which the smugglers had prepared their breakfast. which was still untarnished. He thought a moment. In the first. and encountered the same resistance. Dantes easily recognized them. bound with cut steel. lock and padlock were fastened. saw that his pickaxe had in reality struck against iron and wood. "It is a casket of wood bound with iron. like all the Italian armorial bearings. and mounted the stair. Faria had so often drawn them for him. sprang through the opening. pale.pickaxe struck against an iron substance. when art rendered the commonest metals precious. He sought to open it. Edmond was seized with vertigo. in the second. A wild goat had passed before the mouth of the cave. and was feeding at a little distance. and the two handles at each end. produce a greater effect on the hearer. In an instant he had cleared every obstacle away. and he saw successively the lock. Never did funeral knell. it was impossible. and now. still holding in their grasp fragments of the wood. This would have been a favorable occasion to secure his dinner. He planted his torch in the ground and resumed his labor. he cocked his gun and laid it beside him. on an oval shield. which possessed nothing attractive save their value. then he re-opened them. blazed piles of golden coin." thought he. He approached the hole he had dug. but not the same sound. never did alarm-bell. Dantes seized his gun. cut a branch of a resinous tree. these faithful guardians seemed unwilling to surrender their trust. Three compartments divided the coffer. In an instant a space three feet long by two feet broad was cleared. At this moment a shadow passed rapidly before the opening. Dantes inserted the sharp end of the pickaxe between the coffer and the lid.

each worth about eighty francs of our money. rushed into the grotto. sounded like hail against glass. clasping his hands convulsively. and other gems. which. And he measured ten double handfuls of pearls. mounted by the most famous workmen. and. from whence he could behold the sea. terrifying the wild goats and scaring the sea-fowls with his wild cries and gestures. such as this man of stupendous emotions had already experienced twice or thrice in his lifetime. pearls. It was a night of joy and terror. and then rushed madly about the rocks of Monte Cristo. felt. and. Dantes saw the light gradually disappear. and fearing to be surprised in the cavern. and his predecessors. and found himself before this mine of gold and jewels. then he returned. each weighing from two to three pounds. he leaped on a rock. or was it but a dream? He would fain have gazed upon his gold. After having touched. uttered a prayer intelligible to God alone. left it. He then set himself to work to count his fortune. and yet he had not strength enough. Edmond grasped handfuls of diamonds. for an instant he leaned his head in his hands as if to prevent his senses from leaving him. Edmond rushed through the caverns like a man seized with frenzy. He was alone — alone with these countless. A piece of biscuit and a small quantity of rum formed his supper.third. This time he fell on his knees. and bearing the effigies of Alexander VI. and he saw that the complement was not half empty. still unable to believe the evidence of his senses. for only now did he begin to realize his felicity. his gun in his hand. lying over the mouth of the cave. 215 . diamonds. then he piled up twenty-five thousand crowns. were valuable beyond their intrinsic worth. There were a thousand ingots of gold. examined these treasures. and he snatched a few hours' sleep. He soon became calmer and more happy. these unheard-of treasures! was he awake. as they fell on one another. and rubies. many of which.

then. He then inquired how they had fared in their trip. To wait at Monte Cristo for the purpose of watching like a dragon over the almost incalculable riches that had thus fallen into his possession satisfied not the cravings of his heart. he lifted the stone. With the first light Dantes resumed his search. into which he deftly inserted rapidly growing plants. leaving the approach to the cavern as savage-looking and untrodden as he had found it. put the box together as well and securely as he could. This done. To this question the smugglers replied that.Chapter 25 The Unknown. which yearned to return to dwell among mankind. but it wore the same wild. Day. although considerably better than when they quitted him. the smugglers returned. he scrupulously effaced every trace of footsteps. again dawned. and then carefully trod down the earth to give it everywhere a uniform appearance. he met his companions with an assurance that. for which Dantes had so eagerly and impatiently waited with open eyes. and to assume the rank. Again he climbed the rocky height he had ascended the previous evening. although successful in landing their cargo in safety. heaping on it broken masses of rocks and rough fragments of crumbling granite. they 216 . barren aspect when seen by the rays of the morning sun which it had done when surveyed by the fading glimmer of eve. filled his pockets with gems. sprinkled fresh sand over the spot from which it had been taken. From a distance Dantes recognized the rig and handling of The Young Amelia. he still suffered acutely from his late accident. power. and dragging himself with affected difficulty towards the landing-place. and influence which are always accorded to wealth — that first and greatest of all the forces within the grasp of man. he replaced the stone. Descending into the grotto. and strained his view to catch every peculiarity of the landscape. On the sixth day. quitting the grotto. then carefully watering these new plantations. he impatiently awaited the return of his companions. such as the wild myrtle and flowering thorn. filling the interstices with earth.

Dantes took leave of the captain. The term for which Edmond had engaged to serve on board The Young Amelia having expired. who did not allow him as much money as he liked to spend. but that on his arrival at Leghorn he had come into possession of a large fortune. accompanying the gift by a donation of one hundred piastres. however. to whom he disposed of four of his smallest diamonds for five thousand francs each. he embarked that same evening. and so elude all further pursuit. upon condition that he would go at once to Marseilles for the purpose of inquiring after an old man named Louis Dantes. Arrived at Leghorn. and also a young woman called Mercedes. whose sole heir he was. Dantes half feared that such valuable jewels in the hands of a poor sailor like himself might excite suspicion. night came on. and particularly Jacopo. This obliged them to make all the speed they could to evade the enemy. residing in the Allees de Meillan. who at first 217 . 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. The following day Dantes presented Jacopo with an entirely new vessel. but as The Young Amelia had merely come to Monte Cristo to fetch him away. and enabled them to double the Cape of Corsica. Edmond preserved the most admirable self-command. an inhabitant of the Catalan village. 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. he repaired to the house of a Jew. which Dantes hastened to account for by saying that he had merely been a sailor from whim and a desire to spite his family. but the cunning purchaser asked no troublesome questions concerning a bargain by which he gained a round profit of at least eighty per cent. a dealer in precious stones. and proceeded with the captain to Leghorn.had scarcely done so when they received intelligence that a guard-ship had just quitted the port of Toulon and was crowding all sail towards them. In fact. Upon the whole. fortunately. the trip had been sufficiently successful to satisfy all concerned. whose superior skill in the management of a vessel would have availed them so materially. when they could but lament the absence of Dantes. the pursuing vessel had almost overtaken them when. expressed great regrets that Dantes had not been an equal sharer with themselves in the profits. Jacopo could scarcely believe his senses at receiving this magnificent present. while the crew. which amounted to no less a sum than fifty piastres each. that he might provide himself with a suitable crew and other requisites for his outfit. left him by an uncle.

Dantes led the owner of the yacht to the dwelling of a Jew. upon condition that he should be allowed to take immediate possession. but having been told the history of the legacy. offering sixty thousand francs. Then Dantes departed for Genoa. the closet to contain three divisions. retired with the latter for a few minutes to a small back parlor. To the captain he promised to write when he had made up his mind as to his future plans. but this Dantes declined with many thanks. was desirous of possessing a specimen of their skill. with directions from Dantes to join him at the Island of Monte Cristo. who. The builder cheerfully undertook the commission. the price agreed upon between the Englishman and the Genoese builder was forty thousand francs. and was not expected back in less than three weeks or a month. and upon their return the Jew counted out to the shipbuilder the sum of sixty thousand francs in bright gold pieces. The proposal was too advantageous to be refused. and his principal pleasure consisted in managing his yacht himself. The following day Dantes sailed with his yacht from Genoa. A bargain was therefore struck. under the inspection of an immense crowd drawn together by curiosity to see the rich Spanish nobleman who preferred managing his own yacht. Dantes proceeded to make his final adieus on board The Young Amelia. this yacht had been built by order of an Englishman. The delighted builder then offered his services in providing a suitable crew for the little vessel. so constructed as to be concealed from all but himself. Dantes furnishing the dimensions and plan in accordance with which they were to be constructed. Having seen Jacopo fairly out of the harbor. by which time the builder reckoned upon being able to complete another. and expressions of cordial interest in all that concerned him. having heard that the Genoese excelled all other builders along the shores of the Mediterranean in the construction of fast-sailing vessels. saying he was accustomed to cruise about quite alone. At the moment of his arrival a small yacht was under trial in the bay. The following morning Jacopo set sail for Marseilles. Dantes. and promised to have these secret places completed by the next day. he ceased to importune him further. applied to its owner to transfer it to him. distributing so liberal a gratuity among her crew as to secure for him the good wishes of all. struck with the beauty and capability of the little vessel. the more so as the person for whom the yacht was intended had gone upon a tour through Switzerland. But their 218 . 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.tried all his powers of persuasion to induce him to remain as one of the crew.

219 . bets were offered to any amount that she was bound for Spain. The former Dantes proposed to augment. till at the end of that time he was perfectly conversant with its good and bad qualities. and bore no evidence of having been visited since he went away. A mournful answer awaited each of Edmond's eager inquiries as to the information Jacopo had obtained. The boat. leaping lightly ashore. the latter to remedy. Two of the men from Jacopo's boat came on board the yacht to assist in navigating it. Old Dantes was dead. he dropped anchor in the little creek. For his father's death he was in some manner prepared. he recognized it as the boat he had given to Jacopo. and he gave orders that she should be steered direct to Marseilles. As it drew near. 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. indeed. but he knew not how to account for the mysterious disappearance of Mercedes. Dantes had carefully noted the general appearance of the shore. and at Monte Cristo he arrived at the close of the second day. Yet thither it was that Dantes guided his vessel. so promptly did it obey the slightest touch. others the Island of Elba. but no one thought of Monte Cristo. and ere nightfall the whole of his immense wealth was safely deposited in the compartments of the secret locker. In a couple of hours he returned. Dantes listened to these melancholy tidings with outward calmness. Some insisted she was making for Corsica. seemed to be animated with almost human intelligence. but. Upon the eighth day he discerned a small vessel under full sail approaching Monte Cristo. he signified his desire to be quite alone. instead of landing at the usual place. while Africa was positively reported by many persons as her intended course. The island was utterly deserted. and. and in two hours afterwards the newcomer lay at anchor beside the yacht. studying it as a skilful horseman would the animal he destined for some important service. his boat had proved herself a first-class sailer. and had come the distance from Genoa in thirty-five hours. they then turned their conjectures upon her probable destination. and Mercedes had disappeared. He immediately signalled it. A week passed by. Dantes employed it in manoeuvring his yacht round the island.wonder was soon changed to admiration at seeing the perfect skill with which Dantes handled the helm. Early on the following morning he commenced the removal of his riches. his treasure was just as he had left it. His signal was returned. The spectators followed the little vessel with their eyes as long as it remained visible.

His looking-glass had assured him." So extreme was the surprise of the sailor. he had been put on board the boat destined to convey him thither. and see. sir. you gave me a double Napoleon. Giving the sailor a piece of money in return for his civility. "Some nabob from India. but ere he had gone many steps he heard the man loudly calling him to stop. he was informed that there existed no obstacle to his immediate debarkation. on the never-to-be-forgotten night of his departure for the Chateau d'If. you intended to give me a two-franc piece. and as this gave him a standing which a French passport would not have afforded. moreover. Dantes instantly turned to meet him." said the honest fellow. 220 . The first person to attract the attention of Dantes. as you say. his yacht. but with that perfect self-possession he had acquired during his acquaintance with Faria. and anchored exactly opposite the spot from whence. that he ran no risk of recognition. whose receding figure he continued to gaze after in speechless astonishment. besides. but by way of rewarding your honesty I give you another double Napoleon. "but I believe you made a mistake. carefully watching the man's countenance as he did so. Dantes coolly presented an English passport he had obtained from Leghorn. was one of the crew belonging to the Pharaon. and those were of a nature he alone could investigate in a manner satisfactory to himself. in almost breathless haste.Without divulging his secret. Dantes could not give sufficiently clear instructions to an agent. that he was unable even to thank Edmond. "I beg your pardon. my good friend. then. and be able to ask your messmates to join you. 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. followed by the little fishingboat." was his comment. as he landed on the Canebiere. Dantes proceeded onwards. 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. 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. other particulars he was desirous of ascertaining. I see that I have made a trifling mistake. he propounded a variety of questions on different subjects. that you may drink to my health. he had now the means of adopting any disguise he thought proper. One fine morning. boldly entered the port of Marseilles. Going straight towards him. There were." "Thank you. during his stay at Leghorn.

Dantes succeeded in inducing the man to go up to the tenants. that. not a street. but they felt the sacredness of his grief. so pregnant with fond and filial remembrances. And thus he proceeded onwards till he arrived at the end of the Rue de Noailles. vainly calling for his son. in despite of the oft-repeated assurance of the concierge that they were occupied. and wondered to see the large tears silently chasing each other down his otherwise stern and immovable features. that he passed but seemed filled with dear and cherished memories. The bed belonging to the present occupants was placed as the former owner of the chamber had been accustomed to have his. and seeing them. Though answered in the negative. Then he advanced to the door. The nasturtiums and other plants. with instinctive delicacy. they both accompanied him 221 . the four walls alone remained as he had left them. At this spot. the eyes of Edmond were suffused in tears as he reflected that on that spot the old man had breathed his last.Dantes. they left him to indulge his sorrow alone. from whence a full view of the Allees de Meillan was obtained. Each step he trod oppressed his heart with fresh emotion. however. while. went on his way. and stopped not again till he found himself at the door of the house in which his father had lived. Recovering himself. he begged so earnestly to be permitted to visit those on the fifth floor. and had he not clung for support to one of the trees. not a tree. The young couple gazed with astonishment at the sight of their visitor's emotion. his knees tottered under him. in spite of his efforts to prevent it. The tenants of the humble lodging were a young couple who had been scarcely married a week. and asked whether there were any rooms to be let. he gazed thoughtfully for a time at the upper stories of the shabby little house. and ask permission for a gentleman to be allowed to look at them. and kindly refrained from questioning him as to its cause. while the articles of antiquated furniture with which the rooms had been filled in Edmond's time had all disappeared. his heart beat almost to bursting. Nothing in the two small chambers forming the apartments remained as it had been in the time of the elder Dantes. a mist floated over his sight. When he withdrew from the scene of his painful recollections. Leaning against the tree. he wiped the perspiration from his brows. he would inevitably have fallen to the ground and been crushed beneath the many vehicles continually passing there. the very paper was different. had all disappeared from the upper part of the house. his first and most indelible recollections were there. Dantes sighed heavily. meanwhile. and. which his father had delighted to train before his window.

and a multitude of theories were afloat. none of which was anywhere near the truth. reiterating their hope that he would come again whenever he pleased. But on the following day the family from whom all these particulars had been asked received a handsome present. leave Marseilles by the Porte d'Aix. now become the property of Dantes. Having obtained the address of the person to whom the house in the Allees de Meillan belonged. The very same day the occupants of the apartments on the fifth floor of the house. and then springing lightly on horseback. upon condition of their giving instant possession of the two small chambers they at present inhabited. that the new landlord gave them their choice of any of the rooms in the house. consisting of an entirely new fishing-boat. etc. were duly informed by the notary who had arranged the necessary transfer of deeds. under the name of Lord Wilmore (the name and title inscribed on his passport). that the person in question had got into difficulties. 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. it would unhesitatingly have been given. and at the present time kept a small inn on the route from Bellegarde to Beaucaire. and afterwards observed to enter a poor fisherman's hut. 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. but had its owner asked half a million. without the least augmentation of rent. Dantes next proceeded thither. purchased the small dwelling for the sum of twenty-five thousand francs. he paused to inquire whether Caderousse the tailor still dwelt there. upon quitting the hut. and. This strange event aroused great wonder and curiosity in the neighborhood of the Allees de Meillan. merely give some orders to a sailor. but he received. The delighted recipients of these munificent gifts would gladly have poured out their thanks to their generous benefactor.. 222 . and assuring him that their poor dwelling would ever be open to him. and set all conjecture at defiance. with two seines and a tender. for reply.downstairs. but they had seen him. at least ten thousand more than it was worth. But what raised public astonishment to a climax. As Edmond passed the door on the fourth floor.

Such of my readers as have made a pedestrian excursion to the south of France may perchance have noticed. like a forgotten sentinel. — a small roadside inn. This small staff was quite equal to all the requirements. and a hostler called Pecaud. from the front of which hung. Each stalk served as a perch for a grasshopper. monotonous note. consisting of a small plot of ground. about midway between the town of Beaucaire and the village of Bellegarde. And.Chapter 26 The Pont du Gard Inn. on the side opposite to the main entrance reserved for the reception of guests. 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. which regaled the passers by through this Egyptian scene with its strident. tomatoes. For about seven or eight years the little tavern had been kept by a man and his wife. as though to add to the daily misery which this prosperous 223 . with two servants. lone and solitary. while. — a little nearer to the former than to the latter. but their withered dusty foliage abundantly proved how unequal was the conflict. and displayed its flexible stem and fan-shaped summit dried and cracked by the fierce heat of the sub-tropical sun. — a chambermaid named Trinette. the effect. a sheet of tin covered with a grotesque representation of the Pont du Gard. were scattered a few miserable stalks of wheat. It also boasted of what in Languedoc is styled a garden. This modern place of entertainment stood on the left-hand side of the post road. In the surrounding plain. creaking and flapping in the wind. and backed upon the Rhone. no doubt. Between these sickly shrubs grew a scanty supply of garlic. for a canal between Beaucaire and Aiguemortes had revolutionized transportation by substituting boats for the cart and the stagecoach. a tall pine raised its melancholy head in one of the corners of this unattractive spot. A few dingy olives and stunted fig-trees struggled hard for existence. and eschalots. which more resembled a dusty lake than solid ground.

Still. after the manner of the Spanish muleteers. This man was our old acquaintance. in all probability. and deep-set eyes. yet there he stood. Born in the neighborhood of Arles. situated between Salon and Lambesc. day after day. 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. and sickly-looking. La Carconte. whose maiden name had been Madeleine Radelle. as it saved him the necessity of listening to the endless plaints and murmurs of his helpmate. 224 . The inn-keeper himself was a man of from forty to fifty-five years of age. which. Gaspard Caderousse. exposed to the meridional rays of a burning sun. his hair. while her husband kept his daily watch at the door — a duty he performed with so much the greater willingness. His wife.canal inflicted on the unfortunate inn-keeper. he had dark. was thick and curly. sparkling. let it not be supposed that amid this affected resignation to the will of Providence. and teeth white as those of a carnivorous animal. tall. 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." The sobriquet of La Carconte had been bestowed on Madeleine Radelle from the fact that she had been born in a village. 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. She remained nearly always in her second-floor chamber. and bony. was pale. and in spite of his age but slightly interspersed with a few silvery threads. on the contrary. like his beard. strong. to all of which her husband would calmly return an unvarying reply. shivering in her chair. not a hundred steps from the inn. meagre. of which we have given a brief but faithful description. on the lookout for guests who seldom came. so called. which he wore under his chin. or stretched languid and feeble on her bed. It is God's pleasure that things should be so. her husband had bestowed on her the name of La Carconte in place of her sweet and euphonious name of Madeleine. she had shared in the beauty for which its women are proverbial. in these philosophic words: — "Hush. hooked nose. with no other protection for his head than a red handkerchief twisted around it. it was situated between the Rhone from which it had its source and the post-road it had depleted. a perfect specimen of the natives of those southern latitudes. who never saw him without breaking out into bitter invectives against fate. whose utter ruin it was fast accomplishing. his rude gutteral language would not have enabled him to pronounce.

however. at liberty to regulate his hours for journeying. with its sides bordered by tall. which led away to the north and south. watch-chains. then. parti-colored scarfs. he would easily have perceived that it consisted of a man and 225 . though fruitlessly. first taking care. and silver buckles for the shoes. altogether presenting so uninviting an appearance. all disappeared. velvet vests. and addicted to display. Nevertheless. and the daily infliction of his peevish partner's murmurs and lamentations. Like other dwellers in the south. 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. unable to appear abroad in his pristine splendor. a mode of attire borrowed equally from Greece and Arabia. meagre trees. vain. At the moment Caderousse quitted his sentry-like watch before the door. and grumbling to himself as he went. elegantly worked stockings. had given up any further participation in the pomps and vanities. by degrees. He dressed in the picturesque costume worn upon grand occasions by the inhabitants of the south of France. his eyes glancing listlessly from a piece of closely shaven grass — on which some fowls were industriously. endeavoring to turn up some grain or insect suited to their palate — to the deserted road. Caderousse. necklaces. he mounted to her chamber. embroidered bodices. as usual. at his place of observation before the door. would choose to expose himself in such a formidable Sahara. as the moving object drew nearer.the unfortunate inn-keeper did not writhe under the double misery of seeing the hateful canal carry off his customers and his profits. But. not a festivity took place without himself and wife being among the spectators. and Gaspard Caderousse. 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. while La Carconte displayed the charming fashion prevalent among the women of Arles. more for the shelter than the profit it afforded. had Caderousse but retained his post a few minutes longer. During the days of his prosperity. but fond of external show. There it lay stretching out into one interminable line of dust and sand. bearing equal resemblance to the style adopted both by the Catalans and Andalusians. as an invitation to any chance traveller who might be passing. to set the entrance door wide open. striped gaiters. was. the road on which he so eagerly strained his sight was void and lonely as a desert at mid-day. that no one in his senses could have imagined that any traveller. both for himself and wife. he was a man of sober habits and moderate desires.

he tied the animal safely and having drawn a red cotton handkerchief. he deemed it as well to terminate this dumb show. snarling and displaying his sharp white teeth with a determined hostility that abundantly proved how little he was accustomed to society. "I am Gaspard Caderousse. even more surprised at the question than he had been by the silence which had preceded it. dismounting. "You are welcome. the pair came on with a fair degree of rapidity. I make no doubt a glass of good wine would be acceptable this dreadfully hot day. The horse was of Hungarian breed. His rider was a priest. wiped away the perspiration that streamed from his brow. then." answered the host. 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. with many bows and courteous smiles. then. sir! — he only barks. and. Margotin. What would the abbe please to have? What refreshment can I offer? All I have is at his service. struck thrice with the end of his ironshod stick. then. the priest. "You are. at your service. and wearing a three-cornered hat. At that moment a heavy footstep was heard descending the wooden staircase that led from the upper floor. from his pocket. "will you be quiet? Pray don't heed him." 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. but whether for his own pleasure or that of his rider would have been difficult to say. most welcome!" repeated the astonished Caderousse. M. and." cried he. he never bites." Then perceiving for the first time the garb of the traveller he had to entertain. However that might have been." 226 . sir. sir. "Now. dressed in black. the horse stopped. I presume. advancing to the door. spite of the ardent rays of a noonday sun. Availing himself of a handle that projected from a half-fallen door. mine host of the Pont du Gard besought his guest to enter. and therefore said. led his steed by the bridle in search of some place to which he could secure him. Having arrived before the Pont du Gard. and ambled along at an easy pace. speaking to the dog. a huge black dog came rushing to meet the daring assailant of his ordinarily tranquil abode. Caderousse?" "Yes. At this unusual sound. Caderousse hastily exclaimed: "A thousand pardons! I really did not observe whom I had the honor to receive under my poor speaking with a strong Italian accent. between whom the kindest and most amiable understanding appeared to exist.

Upon issuing forth from his subterranean retreat at the expiration of five minutes. while his dim eye was fixed earnestly on the traveller's face. "for I am firmly persuaded that." said Caderousse." "So much the better for you. is laid up with illness. till the trade fell off." 227 . 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. poor thing!" "You are married. leaning his elbow on a table. "Yes. whose animosity seemed appeased by the unusual command of the traveller for refreshments." said Caderousse with a sigh. practically so. glancing round as he spoke at the scanty furnishings of the apartment. then?" said the priest. his long. and had established himself very comfortably between his knees. sooner or later. the good will be rewarded. honest — I can certainly say that much for myself. we will resume our conversation from where we left off." continued the inn-keeper. sir. for my poor wife. sir." The abbe fixed on him a searching. fairly sustaining the scrutiny of the abbe's gaze." continued he significantly. while Margotin. as Caderousse placed before him the bottle of wine and a glass. "I can boast with truth of being an honest man. hastily raised a trap-door in the floor of the apartment they were in. had crept up to him. which served both as parlor and kitchen. is there nothing I can offer you by way of refreshment?" "Yes. and the wicked punished. quite alone. I was a tailor. — Christian and surname are the same. who." "As you please. You formerly lived." said the abbe. he found the abbe seated upon a wooden stool." replied the man — "or. But talking of heat. penetrating glance. on the fourth floor?" "I did. who is the only person in the house besides myself. with a show of interest. "Yes. "Quite. "Ah. with your permission. if what you assert be true."Gaspard Caderousse. but in this world a man does not thrive the better for being honest. "it is easy to perceive I am not a rich man. with a hand on his breast and shaking his head. let me have a bottle of your best wine. It is so hot at Marseilles. and unable to render me the least assistance. and." "And you followed the business of a tailor?" "True. that really I believe that the respectable inhabitants will in time go without any clothing whatever. at least. skinny neck resting on his lap. "Are you quite alone?" inquired the guest. I believe in the Allees de Meillan." rejoined the priest. "that is more than every one can say nowadays.

as one pleases." A deadly pallor followed the flush on the countenance of Caderousse. what has become of poor Edmond? Did you know him? Is he alive and at liberty? Is he prosperous and happy?" "He died a more wretched. "In the first place." added he. I envied him his good fortune. if he really hates the wicked. in my own person. "the world grows worse and worse. Why does not God. who turned away. whose countenance flushed darkly as he caught the penetrating gaze of the abbe fixed on him. I must be satisfied that you are the person I am in search of. "You remind me." continued Caderousse. without taking any notice of his companion's vehemence. and that none but the wicked prosper. I swear to you. "and perhaps I may. in the year 1814 or 1815." replied Caderousse. and consume them altogether?" "You speak as though you had loved this young Dantes. "Why." "You are wrong to speak thus." answered Caderousse. Edmond Dantes and myself were intimate friends!" exclaimed Caderousse." "Said to bear the name!" repeated Caderousse. becoming excited and eager. But I swear to you." said the abbe. poor fellow!" murmured Caderousse." "What proofs do you require?" "Did you. "and you do well to repeat them. heart-broken prisoner than the felons who pay the penalty of their crimes at the galleys of Toulon." observed the abbe. "And so I did. as he is said to do. "Well. speaking in the highly colored language of the south. sir. there. calm eye of the questioner seemed to dilate with feverish scrutiny. I confess. and the priest saw him wiping the tears from his eyes with the corner of the red handkerchief twisted round his head. but tell me. "though once. but. sir." "What mean you?" inquired Caderousse with a look of surprise. by 228 . while the clear."Such words as those belong to your profession." said the priest. hopeless. "one is free to believe them or not. is another proof that good people are never rewarded on this earth. "that the young man concerning whom I asked you was said to bear the name of Edmond. with a bitter expression of countenance. "Poor fellow. Ah. know anything of a young sailor named Dantes?" "Dantes? Did I know poor dear Edmond? Why. send down brimstone and fire. he was so called as truly as I myself bore the appellation of Gaspard Caderousse. be able to prove to you how completely you are in error. I pray.

Instead of employing this diamond in attempting to bribe his jailers. was possessed of a diamond of immense value." "And so he was." "And for that reason. I suppose.everything a man holds dear. "that Dantes. deeply and sincerely lamented his unhappy fate. but had been released from prison during the second restoration." resumed the abbe. who might only have taken it and then betrayed him to the governor. everything is relative. sir. he besought me to try and clear up a mystery he had never been able to penetrate. the poor fellow told you the truth." murmured Caderousse. I have." "And of what did he die?" asked Caderousse in a choking voice. and to clear his memory should any foul spot or stain have fallen on it. this jewel he bestowed on Dantes upon himself quitting the prison." 229 . "A rich Englishman. since then. searching eye of the abbe was employed in scrutinizing the agitated features of the inn-keeper." There was a brief silence. It was estimated at fifty thousand francs. "Of what. "But the strangest part of the story is. then?" continued Caderousse. that I might administer to him the consolations of religion. "How should he have been otherwise? Ah. "who had been his companion in misfortune." "Then." answered the abbe. that in the event of his getting out of prison he might have wherewithal to live. "I was called to see him on his dying bed. becoming more and more fixed. unless it be of imprisonment?" Caderousse wiped away the large beads of perspiration that gathered on his brow. do young and strong men die in prison. 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." continued the abbe. swore by his crucified Redeemer. that he was utterly ignorant of the cause of his detention. "that it was a stone of immense value?" "Why." And here the look of the abbe. glowing looks. when they have scarcely numbered their thirtieth year. seemed to rest with ill-concealed satisfaction on the gloomy depression which was rapidly spreading over the countenance of Caderousse. even in his dying moments. "You knew the poor lad. think you." asked Caderousse. "To one in Edmond's position the diamond certainly was of great value. with eager. for the sale of such a diamond would have quite sufficed to make his fortune. Dantes carefully preserved it. during which the fixed.

"Bless me!" exclaimed Caderousse. and then if you have any observations to make. resuming his usual placidity of manner." replied the abbe. the abbe. "`is called Danglars. without seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse. and the third. without the setting. you can do so afterwards. "But how comes the diamond in your possession. "`Another of the number. almost breathless with eager admiration. as though hoping to discover the location of the treasure. merely his testamentary executor." cried Caderousse. "it was not of such a size as that. which is also valuable. and after pouring some into a glass. — his name was Fernand. as he placed his empty glass on the table." replied the abbe. "And that diamond." urged Caderousse. "I have forgotten what he called her. "fifty thousand francs! Surely the diamond was as large as a nut to be worth all that. said. and displayed to the dazzled eyes of Caderousse the sparkling jewel it contained. and slowly swallowing its contents." "Mercedes. The name of one of the four friends is Caderousse. — "Where did we leave off?" "The name of Edmond's betrothed was Mercedes. I have it with me. although my rival. `and I feel convinced they have all unfeignedly grieved over my loss. and returned it to his pocket. when the latter. but you shall judge for yourself.'" continued the abbe. Calmly drawing forth from his pocket a small box covered with black shagreen." "Go on." said the abbe. Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding. "you say." said Caderousse eagerly.'" The inn-keeper shivered. "Bring me a carafe of water. said. is worth fifty thousand francs?" "It is. was much attached to me. entertained a very sincere affection for me. the abbe opened it. `I once possessed four dear and faithful friends." "No. "Allow me to finish first." 230 . "True." said the abbe. "Mercedes it was. sir? Did Edmond make you his heir?" "No.'" A fiendish smile played over the features of Caderousse. while its brilliant hues seemed still to dance before the eyes of the fascinated inn-keeper. `The third of my friends. set in a ring of admirable workmanship. who was about to break in upon the abbe's speech. as he closed the box. that of my betrothed was' — Stay. stay. besides the maiden to whom I was betrothed' he said. in spite of being my rival." The sharp gaze of Caderousse was instantly directed towards the priest's garments. waving his hand." continued the abbe. with a stifled sigh.

" "`You will sell this diamond. and that a man. is too horrible for belief. I lived almost on the same floor with the poor old man." "Of what did he die?" "Why. she had feebly dragged herself down the stairs. yes. but I. seated on the lower step. too true!" ejaculated Caderousse. as I hear. you will divide the money into five equal parts." said a voice from the top of the stairs. was his own father. The fifth sharer in Edmond's bequest. anxiously and eagerly. his acquaintances say he died of grief. the only persons who have loved me upon earth. "Why. the doctors called his complaint gastro-enteritis.'" "But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse." "Too true. "And you are a fool for having said anything about it. `You will go to Marseilles." "Because the fifth is dead. it is impossible — utterly impossible!" "What I have said. "Why should you meddle with what does not concern you?" The two men turned quickly. of downright starvation. making a strong effort to appear indifferent. "Why. The very dogs that wander houseless and homeless in the streets find some pitying hand to cast them a mouthful of bread. about a year after the disappearance of his son the poor old man died. almost suffocated by the contending passions which assailed him." answered Caderousse. "the poor old man did die." "I learned so much at Marseilles. Can you enlighten me on that point?" "I do not know who could if I could not. attracted by the sound of voices. a Christian. — for you understand. I have said. she had listened to the foregoing 231 . "but from the length of time that has elapsed since the death of the elder Dantes. I repeat his words just as he uttered them. "Of what?" asked the priest. and saw the sickly countenance of La Carconte peering between the baluster rails. head on knees."To be sure. the vilest animals are not suffered to die by such a death as that. springing from his seat." said Caderousse. and. "Why. and give an equal portion to these good friends." replied the abbe.' said Dantes. "you only mentioned four persons. should be allowed to perish of hunger in the midst of other men who call themselves Christians. I believe. Do you understand?" "Perfectly. I say he died of" — Caderousse paused. Ah. I was unable to obtain any particulars of his end." "Starvation!" exclaimed the abbe. Oh. who saw him in his dying moments.

"Can a man be faithful to another whose wife 232 . "mind what you are saying!" Caderousse made no reply to these words. but when poor." said the abbe. "This gentleman asks me for information. but. from her seat on the stairs. who cannot even see whence all their afflictions come. "Mind your own business. silly folks. "What have you to do with politeness. he said. that's all very fine. have been persuaded to tell all they know. "Gaspard. he would not have perished by so dreadful a death. though evidently irritated and annoyed by the interruption. Gaspard!" murmured the woman." continued Caderousse." "And was he not so?" asked the abbe. which common politeness will not permit me to refuse. you simpleton!" retorted La Carconte. leaving the two speakers to resume the conversation. nay. "that you named just now as being one of Dantes' faithful and attached friends. are heaped on the unfortunate wretches. How do you know the motives that person may have for trying to extract all he can from you?" "I pledge you my word. When he had sufficiently recovered himself." "Ah. and went into a fit of ague." replied Caderousse sharply. but somehow the poor old man had contracted a profound hatred for Fernand — the very person." "Why. "It appears. "for Mercedes the Catalan and Monsieur Morrel were very kind to him. Whatever evils may befall you. Surely. then. Again the abbe had been obliged to swallow a draught of water to calm the emotions that threatened to overpower him. make yourself perfectly easy. and that you husband can incur no risk." "Nay. I should like to know? Better study a little common prudence." "Politeness. like my husband there. "that my intentions are good. but remaining so as to be able to hear every word they uttered. the promises and assurances of safety are quickly forgotten. I beg of you.conversation. that I solemnly promise you. said. and at some moment when nobody is expecting it. my good woman." La Carconte muttered a few inarticulate words." retorted the woman. "Nothing is easier than to begin with fair promises and assurances of nothing to fear. that the miserable old man you were telling me of was forsaken by every one. provided he answers me candidly. behold trouble and misery. had not such been the case. then let her head again drop upon her knees. they will not be occasioned by my instrumentality." added Caderousse with a bitter smile. addressing the abbe. and all sorts of persecutions. madam. wife. he was not altogether forsaken.

I shall do my duty as 233 . "Are these persons. then. "I cannot help being more frightened at the idea of the malediction of the dead than the hatred of the living. what would it be to them? no more than a drop of water in the ocean. "that I should bestow on men you say are false and treacherous." "You prefer." "Imbecile!" exclaimed La Carconte." replied Caderousse." "Remember. the gift of poor Edmond was not meant for such traitors as Fernand and Danglars. know in what manner Fernand injured Dantes?" inquired the abbe of Caderousse. my good friend. Pray relate it to me!" Caderousse seemed to reflect for a few moments. and came to me and begged that I would candidly tell which were his true and which his false friends. Poor Edmond." "Well. "I don't know but what you're right!" "So you will say nothing?" asked the abbe. which was not altogether devoid of rude poetry. and therefore can have nothing to do with hatred or revenge. that he believed everybody's professions of friendship. so let all such feeling be buried with him. why. in his native language. you are master — but if you take my advice you'll hold your tongue. so rich and powerful?" "Do you not know their history?" "I do not." "Speak out then. then. "If the poor lad were living. he was cruelly deceived. I respect your scruples and admire your sentiments. wife. "Why." chimed in La Carconte. I should not hesitate." returned the abbe. And. or he might have found it more difficult. besides. but it was fortunate that he never knew. just as you please." said the abbe. say what it was!" "Gaspard!" cried La Carconte. then said. then. so let the matter end. the reward intended for faithful friendship?" "That is true enough. "No. But you tell me he is no more. in a tone that indicated utter indifference on his part." continued Caderousse. "Do I? No one better. either to speak or be silent. it would take up too much time. "do as you will. whatever people may say.he covets and desires for himself? But Dantes was so honorable and true in his own nature. when on his deathbed. "You say truly." returned Caderousse. for my own part. truly. perhaps. to pardon his enemies." "Well. "you are at liberty. "those two could crush you at a single blow!" "How so?" inquired the abbe. what good would it do?" asked Caderousse. "Do you.

" murmured the wife in her turn." "Remember. "It does. as he replaced the jewel and its case in the pocket of his cassock." So saying. "with the addition of an equal division of that part intended for the elder Dantes. muttering voice. in order that I may execute Edmond's last wishes. does it not?" asked Caderousse. and contrived to hold it in such a light. I said I looked upon it as a sacrilegious profanation to reward treachery. that a bright flash of brilliant hues passed before the dazzled gaze of Caderousse. wife. did you not hear all we said?" inquired Caderousse." said the former." "And why among us four?" inquired Caderousse. The jewel is worth at least fifty thousand francs. You will have the goodness to furnish me with the address of both Fernand and Danglars. As he saw the abbe rise from his seat and go towards the door. and large drops of perspiration rolled from his heated brow. in a low. Danglars. Caderousse and his wife exchanged looks of deep meaning. "It is a beautiful diamond left by poor Edmond Dantes. "Of course not!" rejoined Caderousse quickly." "I don't call those friends who betray and ruin you. opened it. Fernand. My first business will be to dispose of this diamond." replied the abbe. the abbe again draw the small box from his pocket. "it is your fault.conscientiously as I can. perhaps crime. and the money divided between his father. you see. "what diamond are you talking about?" "Why. wife!" cried he in a hoarse voice. if we chose!" 234 ." answered the abbe calmly." The agitation of Caderousse became extreme." "Oh. what a magnificent jewel!" cried the astonished woman. to be sold. "As being the friends Edmond esteemed most faithful and devoted to him. and that was what I was observing to this gentleman just now. and myself. Mercedes. "Wife. "no more do I. as though to ascertain if his horse were sufficiently refreshed to continue his journey. that I do so. not mine. "The fifth part of the profits from this stone belongs to us then. his betrothed bride. "There. rising and descending to the chamber with a tolerably firm step. "this splendid diamond might all be ours. and fulfil my promise to the dying man. "come here!" "Diamond!" exclaimed La Carconte. which I believe myself at liberty to divide equally with the four survivors.

as he returned to the apartment below. bolted and barred it." said the abbe. "do as you like. she once more climbed the staircase leading to her chamber. and called out. exactly opposite to him. "Well. and. in a warning tone." answered he. "Remember. which would be a pity. her body convulsed with chills. 235 . the flooring of which creaked beneath her heavy. as she proceeded towards her arm-chair. During this time the abbe had chosen his place for listening at his ease. this is no affair of mine."Do you believe it?" "Why. I will take all the consequences upon myself. while the light would be fully thrown on the narrator." said the priest. or rather clinched together." So saying. as though through the flooring of her chamber she viewed the scene that was enacting below." asked the abbe. in spite of the intense heat of the weather. where he himself would be in deep shadow. which he closed." said the trembling voice of La Carconte. "what have you made up your mind to do?" "To tell you all I know. "I am all attention. I could distribute the legacy according to the wishes of the testator." was the reply. by way of still greater precaution. "Not because I have the least desire to learn anything you may please to conceal from me. but simply that if. she turned round. into which she fell as though exhausted. "say no more about it. his face flushed with cupidity. I wash my hands of the affair." replied La Carconte. surely a man of his holy profession would not deceive us!" "Well. enough!" replied Caderousse." With these words he went stealthily to the door. Arrived at the top stair. to her husband." answered Caderousse. through your assistance. "I certainly think you act wisely in so doing. with head bent down and hands clasped. La Carconte then entered her chamber. and her teeth rattling in her head." replied Caderousse. "Enough. as he was accustomed to do at night. He removed his seat into a corner of the room. who seated himself on the little stool. "Stop a minute. For my part. he prepared to give his whole attention to Caderousse. why. so much the better. that is all. uncertain tread." "I hope it may be so." And he began his story. then. "we might be interrupted in the most interesting part of my story. consider well what you are about to do!" "I have both reflected and decided. "Gaspard. and it is as well that your visit hither should be made known only to ourselves.

under these circumstances. shaking his head. "Edmond related to me everything until the moment when he was arrested in a small cabaret close to Marseilles. the whole truth. "Well." replied the abbe. Recollect. and if they only laid the tips of their fingers on me." "The history is a sad one. for the persons of whom I am about to talk are rich and powerful. then. my friend. if you ever make use of the details I am about to give you." This positive assurance seemed to give Caderousse a little courage. I should break to pieces like glass." "Was it not his betrothal feast?" "It was and the feast that began so gayly had a very sorrowful ending. a police commissary. then. as without hatred. and I shall shortly retire to my convent. "you must make me a promise." said Caderousse." said Caderousse. "Why." said Caderousse. I can see it all before me this moment. entered. in a fitting manner. I do not know. followed by four soldiers. the persons of whom you are about to speak. yes." "At La Reserve! Oh. and not a Frenchman." said the abbe. sir. "perhaps you know all the earlier part of it?" "Yes. the last wishes of our friend. and Dantes was arrested. "Edmond talked to me a great deal about the old man for whom he had the deepest love." "What is that?" inquired the abbe. never may know. which I have only quitted to fulfil the last wishes of a dying man. "I will. I even believe I ought to undeceive you as to the friendship which poor Edmond thought so sincere and unquestionable." "Make yourself easy. "First. that you will never let any one know that it was I who supplied them. tell the truth. Speak. and confessions die in my breast." answered the abbe. without reserve. and belong to God. sir. if you please. "I am a priest.Chapter 27 The Story." 236 . I am an Italian." "Begin with his father. our only desire is to carry out. besides. and not to man.

and they were very sad. `I will not leave this house. and if he gets out of prison he will come and see me the first thing. but the old man would not consent. I heard his sobs. all the eloquent words and imploring language he made use of. I cannot now repeat to you. The old man returned alone to his home. I should throw myself into the sea at once.' was the old man's reply. sir. and what would he think if I did not wait here for him?' I heard all this from the window. but when I reached his door he was no longer weeping but praying. Monsieur Morrel hastened to obtain the particulars. I know not why. de Villefort. for my poor dear boy loves me better than anything in the world. it was more than piety. for I could not bear it. she wished him to go with her that she might take care of him. "Dantes himself only knew that which personally concerned him. but he seemed to dislike seeing me. and paced up and down his chamber the whole day. and I could not resist my desire to go up to him."Yes. it was more than grief. and he was one of these. The next day Mercedes came to implore the protection of M. however. and I. for I was anxious that Mercedes should persuade the old man to accompany her. One night." said the priest. and I am very glad that I have not any children." "But did you not go up-stairs and try to console the poor old man?" asked the abbe. when she saw him so miserable and heart-broken. sir." replied Caderousse. "we cannot console those who will not be consoled. for his footsteps over my head night and day did not leave me a moment's repose. and hate the Jesuits. for he never beheld again the five persons I have named to you. said then to myself. I assure you I could not sleep either.'" "Poor father!" murmured the priest. and every step he took went to my heart as really as if his foot had pressed against my breast. and went to visit the old man." "Well. for if I were a father and felt such excessive grief as the old man does. for I was underneath him and heard him walking the whole night. she did not obtain it. and up to this point I know all. and did not find in my memory or heart all he is now saying. `It is really well. besides. `No. and for myself. having passed a sleepless night. and not touched food since the previous day. for the grief of the poor father gave me great uneasiness. and would not go to bed at all. "Ah. 237 . folded up his wedding suit with tears in his eyes. however. when Dantes was arrested. or heard mention of any one of them. who am no canter.

which was granted to him. he would not make any answer. and of course shall see him first. therefore. I then resolved to go up to him at all risks. tell him I die blessing him. does it not. but I guessed what these bundles were. Mercedes remained. sir?" inquired Caderousse. endeavored to console him. and I only saw from time to time strangers go up to him and come down again with some bundle they tried to hide. and more and more solitary. — `Be assured. I know this. and M. cursing those who had caused his misery. by his bedside.'" The abbe rose from his chair. who would fain have conveyed the old man against his consent. and she found him so altered that she was even more anxious than before to have him taken to her own home. because the landlord came into my apartment when he left his. but. Morrel and then ran on to Mercedes. he said to her. and saw him so pale and haggard. that believing him very ill. Morrel went away. and so at last old Dantes was left all to himself. in spite of her own grief and despair." replied the abbe."From day to day he lived on alone. my dear daughter. but I looked through the keyhole. The door was closed. But availing himself of the doctor's order. and. and the doctor said it was inflammation of the bowels. but the old man resisted. M. For the first three days I heard him walking about as usual. he begged for another week. the old man would not take any sustenance. They both came immediately. and instead of expecting him. One day. At length the poor old fellow reached the end of all he had. on the fourth I heard nothing. "The story interests you. the doctor had put him on a diet. at length (after nine days of despair and fasting). and saying to Mercedes. I was there. Morrel bringing a doctor. but his door was closed. they make one melancholy. made two turns 238 . although I was certain he was at home. M." The abbe uttered a kind of groan. and they threatened to turn him out. and cried so that they were actually frightened. I went and told M. he is dead. contrary to his custom. and the poor girl. he had admitted Mercedes. Morrel's wish also.' However well disposed a person may be. I am quite happy. `If you ever see my Edmond again. This was M. too. he had an excuse for not eating any more." "Mercedes came again. making a sign to the Catalan that he had left his purse on the chimney-piece. From that time he received all who came. why you see we leave off after a time seeing persons who are in sorrow. Morrel and Mercedes came to see him. and I never shall forget the old man's smile at this prescription. "Yes. and ordered him a limited diet. he owed three quarters' rent. it is he who is awaiting us. the old man died. "it is very affecting. and that he sold by degrees what he had to pay for his subsistence. for I am the oldest. when.

" "I!" said Caderousse. with a shaking hand. a horrid event. sir?" asked Caderousse. "This was." "'Twas so. "I was there. "who told you I was there?" The abbe saw he had overshot the mark." "But. true!" said Caderousse in a choking voice. who are these men who killed the son with despair." "Tell me of those men. but in order to have known everything so well. seized a glass of water that was standing by him half-full." "And where was this letter written?" "At La Reserve. I had only an indistinct understanding of what was passing around me. as it was men's and not God's doing." he added in an almost menacing tone. "you have promised to tell me everything. — "No one. of hunger. and the other from ambition." "It was Danglars who wrote the denunciation with his left hand. then — 'twas so. and he added quickly." "They denounced Edmond as a Bonapartist agent. and Fernand who put it in the post. and then resumed his seat." replied the priest." exclaimed the abbe suddenly. "I am as certain of it as that we two are Christians. one with a letter. Tell me. "The more so. one from love.round the chamber. the day before the betrothal feast. swallowed it at one gulp." "How was this jealousy manifested? Speak on. Faria. and the father with famine?" "Two men jealous of him. "they had made me drink to such an excess that I nearly lost all perception. sir. sir. "go on." said he in a hoarse voice. you must have been an eye-witness. — Fernand and Danglars. I said all that a man in such a state could say. you were an accomplice. sir." said Caderousse. with red eyes and pale cheeks. nothing. and the other put it in the post. "you were there yourself. sir." murmured the abbe. and pressed his trembling hand against his parched throat. "And you believe he died" — "Of hunger." replied Caderousse. "Oh. "Nothing." "Sir. how well did you judge men and things!" "What did you please to say. therefore. but they both assured me that it was a jest they were carrying on. Faria." The abbe." "True." "Which of the two denounced him? Which was the real delinquent?" "Both. that his writing might not be recognized. astonished. indeed." said the abbe. "and remember too." "And did you not remonstrate against such infamy?" asked the abbe." 239 . and perfectly harmless. then. "if not.

" There was a brief silence. and then resumed his seat. when she complains. with which they paid the old man's debts. without doing harm to any one." said the abbe." asked the abbe. and the night or two before his death. implored." "And. "Well. `If he should really be guilty. "and remorse preys on me night and day. "they say the dead know everything. Morrel. and very anxious to speak. as he had lived. and if they find this letter upon him. it is the will of God." "I understand — you allowed matters to take their course. Edmond is dead. you must have seen plain enough what they had been doing. I was there. Ten times. he left his purse on the mantelpiece." interrupted Caderousse. full of courage and real regard. but it was not criminal. "You have two or three times mentioned a M." "And what part did he play in this sad drama?" inquired the abbe. the abbe rose and paced up and down pensively. I often ask pardon of God. the only one with which I have seriously to reproach myself in all my life." said the abbe. but Danglars restrained me. `Hold your tongue. threatened. "who was he?" "The owner of the Pharaon and patron of Dantes. I have the purse still by me — a large one."Next day — next day. "But he knows it all now. I confess. woman. that was all. made of red silk." "Unfortunately. and thus to accuse yourself is to deserve pardon. as I have already said. and I held my tongue. Morrel still alive?" 240 . and buried him decently.' said he. sir. in the state in which politics then were. Twenty times he interceded for Edmond. as I told you. is no doubt the cause of my abject condition." "Yes. and so Edmond's father died. sir." "Yes." "He did not know. I swear to you. When the emperor returned. and offered to receive him in his own house. sir. I am expiating a moment of selfishness. "is M." answered Caderousse." he said.' I confess I had my fears.'" And Caderousse bowed his head with every sign of real repentance. and so I always say to La Carconte. that on the second restoration he was persecuted as a Bonapartist. if he is really charged with a letter for the Bonapartist committee at Paris. though you were present when Dantes was arrested. those who have supported him will pass for his accomplices. he wrote. because this action. and so energetically. It was cowardly. `and did really put in to the Island of Elba. yet you said nothing. "you have spoken unreservedly. "The part of an honest man. and has not pardoned me. sir. he came to see Dantes' father.

he has a daughter."Yes. as you may suppose. besides. who through everything has behaved like an angel. "And it is thus heaven recompenses virtue. the instigator. "He is reduced almost to the last extremity — nay. and therefore the most guilty?" "What has become of him? Why. "so it is. a Madame de Nargonne." Caderousse smiled bitterly. Morrel unhappy?" exclaimed the abbe." replied the abbe. If this ship founders. a widow. and. then with that money he speculated in the funds. who never did a bad action but that I have told you of — am in destitution. and made a fortune. he has. and there would be an end. "Yes. with my poor wife dying of fever before my very eyes. he left Marseilles." "And has the unfortunate man wife or children?" inquired the abbe. having first married his banker's daughter. as old Dantes did. "What! M. he has lost five ships in two years. while Fernand and Danglars are rolling in wealth. and his only hope now is in that very Pharaon which poor Dantes commanded. who was about to marry the man she loved. and which is expected from the Indies with a cargo of cochineal and indigo. while honest men have been reduced to misery." "How is that?" "Because their deeds have brought them good fortune. like the others." "How?" "Yes. he is almost at the point of dishonor. Morrel is utterly ruined. If he were alone in the world he would blow out his brains. 241 . I shall die of hunger. only augments his sorrows. has suffered by the bankruptcy of three large houses. a son. after five and twenty years of labor. M. on the recommendation of M. I. who left him a widower." said he. after having acquired a most honorable name in the trade of Marseilles. "You see. "Yes. he has a wife. Morrel. sir. he is a ruined man. "he should be rich. happy as myself. happy. who did not know his crime. instead of lessening. and was taken. and I unable to do anything in the world for her." continued Caderousse." added Caderousse." replied Caderousse." "Horrible!" ejaculated the priest. but whose family now will not allow him to wed the daughter of a ruined man. During the war with Spain he was employed in the commissariat of the French army. and trebled or quadrupled his capital. as cashier into a Spanish bank. "In that case." "What has become of Danglars. all this. a lieutenant in the army. and. he has married a second time.

Fernand was drafted. Fernand would have been court-martialed if Napoleon had remained on the throne. who is in the highest favor.daughter of M. and you will understand. who is in high favor at court. in a peculiar tone. and followed the general. by what visible steps has he attained this high fortune or high position?" "Both. but listen. The Bourbons left him quietly enough at the Catalans. I was only sent to the coast. found Danglars there. and they have made him a baron. but if a large fortune produces happiness." "Ah!" said the abbe. was accorded to him. sir — he has both fortune and position — both. the king's chamberlain. He is a millionaire. a special levy was made. He returned to France with the epaulet of sub-lieutenant. but as I was older than Fernand. with a fine residence in the Rue de Mont-Blanc." "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. Danglars is happy. and had just married my poor wife. then. and I know not how many millions in his strongbox. but his action was rewarded by the Bourbons. and Fernand was compelled to join. The night after that battle he was sentry at the door of a general who carried on a secret correspondence with the enemy. and was at the battle of Ligny." "And Fernand?" "Fernand? Why." "This must be impossible!" "It would seem so." "But. Fernand agreed to do so. and being sent to Spain to ascertain the feeling of his fellow-countrymen. won over the support of the royalists at the capital and in the provinces. make a fortune? I confess this staggers me. six footmen in his ante-chamber. without education or resources. he was a captain in 1823. guided his regiment by paths known 242 . and as the protection of the general. went to the frontier with his regiment. with ten horses in his stables. but Napoleon returned. deserted his post. Fernand was a Spaniard. There must have been in his life some strange secret that no one knows. during the Spanish war — that is to say. I went too. much the same story. received promises and made pledges on his own part. and now he is the Baron Danglars. That same night the general was to go over to the English. Fernand was enrolled in the active troop. Some days before the return of the emperor. He proposed to Fernand to accompany him. at the time when Danglars made his early speculations. de Servieux." "And it has staggered everybody. got on very intimate terms with him. "he is happy." "But how could a poor Catalan fisher-boy.

The French government. without protecting them openly. he said. no companionship save that of an old man who was dying with despair. to rise the next day with still more splendor. still having his name kept on the army roll. In the midst of her despair. "And Mercedes — they tell me that she has disappeared?" "Disappeared. "he owns a magnificent house — No. de Villefort. making an effort at self-control. with an ironical smile." "So that now?" — inquired the abbe." continued Caderousse." replied Caderousse. "Go on. Fernand sought and obtained leave to go and serve in Greece. after the taking of Trocadero." "Has she made a fortune also?" inquired the abbe. "yes. I have told you of her attempts to propitiate M. hesitated for a moment. The war with Spain being ended. Paris. as you know. as you know. no news of Fernand. Fernand went. Three months passed and still she wept — no news of Edmond. himself alone through the mountain gorges which were held by the royalists. Rue du Helder. "it seems as if I were listening to the story of a dream. as the sun disappears. Some time after. Greece only had risen against Turkey. 243 . and Mercedes remained alone. whose crime she did not know." "Destiny! destiny!" murmured the abbe. Fernand's career was checked by the long peace which seemed likely to endure throughout Europe. gave countenance to volunteer assistance." "Mercedes was at first in the deepest despair at the blow which deprived her of Edmond. and. but listen: this was not all." said Caderousse. Ali Pasha was killed. and had begun her war of independence. rendered such services in this brief campaign that. a new affliction overtook her. "Mercedes is at this moment one of the greatest ladies in Paris. he was made colonel. then. and received the title of count and the cross of an officer of the Legion of Honor. But I have seen things so extraordinary. that what you tell me seems less astonishing than it otherwise might. 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 instructorgeneral. with which he returned to France. "Yes. and whom she regarded as her brother. her devotion to the elder Dantes. all eyes were turned towards Athens — it was the fashion to pity and support the Greeks. but before he died he recompensed the services of Fernand by leaving him a considerable sum. in fact. This was the departure of Fernand — of Fernand. "So that now. when he was gazetted lieutenant-general." The abbe opened his mouth." said the abbe.

more happy. dressed in the uniform of a sub-lieutenant. but it seemed as if a part of her past life had returned to her. and when he learned of the old man's death he returned. "but although in the eyes of the world she appeared calm." "Well." 244 . `Our Edmond is dead." "The very church in which she was to have married Edmond. Mercedes begged for six months more in which to await and mourn for Edmond. and wrung her hands in agony.One evening. the betrothal had been celebrated with him whom she might have known she still loved had she looked to the bottom of her heart. "the marriage took place in the church of Accoules. turned anxiously around. Fernand. Mercedes." "So that. it must be confessed. she returned to her home more depressed than ever. "there was only a change of bride-grooms. eighteen months before. There were too many unpleasant possibilities associated with the Catalans." murmured the priest. with a bitter smile. He was now a lieutenant. as I have told you. stood before her. perchance. but the thought. At his first coming he had not said a word of love to Mercedes. What more could the most devoted lover desire?" Then he murmured the words of the English poet. that other was absent. It was not the one she wished for most. 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. if he were not. thy name is woman. the door opened. came now in full force upon her mind. Mercedes seized Fernand's hands with a transport which he took for love. had disappeared. had he lived." continued Caderousse." proceeded Caderousse. which she had always repelled before when it was suggested to her by another. and Fernand. old Dantes incessantly said to her. at the second he reminded her that he loved her. had not become the wife of another. and then. "that makes eighteen months in all. And then. where. too. but which was only joy at being no longer alone in the world. he would return to us. and eight days after the wedding they left Marseilles. after a day of accustomed vigil at the angle of two roads leading to Marseilles from the Catalans. for he would have been there to reproach her infidelity." said the abbe. after long hours of solitary sorrow. and to depart himself. Suddenly she heard a step she knew. Another possessed all Mercedes' heart. perhaps was dead.' The old man died. "`Frailty.'" "Six months afterwards. and seeing at last a friend. At this last thought Mercedes burst into a flood of tears. Mercedes was married. Fernand had never been hated — he was only not precisely loved. Fernand saw this. she nearly fainted as she passed La Reserve.

" continued Caderousse. to be able to instruct her child. no doubt he is as rich as Danglars. de Villefort?" asked the abbe. "no doubt fortune and honors have comforted her. "Oh. but Madame de Morcerf saw me. then. at Perpignan. "did he know so little of his lovely betrothed? Mercedes might have been a queen. "What makes you believe this?" "Why. I am sure." continued the abbe. I did not know him. "Her son?" said he. I called on Fernand. Fernand's fortune was already waxing great. and yet" — Caderousse paused. and she only filled her head in order to alleviate the weight on her heart. between ourselves. and I had nothing to ask of him. music — everything. she is not happy. who would not even receive me." The abbe started. during the Spanish war. and the share he had in Edmond's misfortunes?" "No. she is rich. I only know that some time after Edmond's arrest. perhaps." "And M. and saw Mercedes. as high 245 ." "Then you did not see either of them?" "No. he married Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. and she developed with his growing fortune. "Yes. "And yet what?" asked the abbe." replied Caderousse. Besides. I understood from Edmond that she was the daughter of a simple fisherman. So I went to Danglars." "Oh. sir. and soon after left Marseilles." replied Caderousse." "How was that?" "As I went away a purse fell at my feet — it contained five and twenty louis. if the crown were to be placed on the heads of the loveliest and most intelligent. "Yet. she was attending to the education of her son. "little Albert. I thought my old friends would. I believe. beautiful but uneducated. assist me. She learned drawing." said Caderousse. a countess. But now her position in life is assured. "Yes. where Fernand had left her. who sent me a hundred francs by his valet-de-chambre. that she might forget. I raised my head quickly."Did you ever see Mercedes again?" inquired the priest. she did this in order to distract her mind. when I found myself utterly destitute." "Do you not know what became of him. "she must have received an education herself. he never was a friend of mine." "But. no doubt he has been as lucky as the rest. who at once shut the blind.

Take the diamond. while his justice reposes. "In exchange. as you see." said Caderousse." said the abbe to himself. Morrel left on old Dantes' chimney-piece. and gave the abbe a long purse of faded red silk. "all you have told me is perfectly true. withdrew his hand. sir. it is worth fifty thousand francs. — "Here." The abbe with difficulty got away from the enthusiastic thanks of Caderousse. opened it. my friend. then. take this diamond. sir. got out and mounted his horse. opened the door himself. and thus it cannot be divided. I only. and I repeat my wish that this sum may suffice to release you from your wretchedness. took his hat and gloves. round which were two copper runners that had once been station as Fernand. and with the other wiping away the perspiration which bedewed his brow. "'Tis well. — "Oh. it is yours. I go far from men who thus so bitterly injure each other. sir. my friend. and sell it. for me only?" cried Caderousse. The abbe smiled." The abbe rose. and forgotten. you are a man of God. sir." he continued." Caderousse. "you would have done. and you might have kept it. "Oh." "Which. open this book. and may this money profit you! Adieu. "ah. "Well. I have told everything to you as it occurred. "God may seem sometimes to forget for a time." replied Caderousse. do not jest with me!" "This diamond was to have been shared among his friends. my faith as a Christian. and in return gave Caderousse the diamond. and I may believe it in every particular." "I know what happiness and what despair are. "in this corner is a crucifix in holy wood — here on this shelf is my wife's testament. said. once 246 ." "What. have remained poor. and I will swear upon it with my hand on the crucifix. and as the recording angel will tell it to the ear of God at the day of the last judgment!" "'Tis well." "You are mistaken. then. "for no one knew that Edmond had given you this diamond. I will swear to you by my soul's salvation. more and more astonished. The abbe took it. Take it. then." "See. Edmond had one friend only." "Oh. but in exchange — " Caderousse. sir. went toward a large oaken cupboard. who touched the diamond." he said. do not make a jest of the happiness or despair of a man. "give me the red silk purse that M. putting out one hand timidly. convinced by his manner and tone that Caderousse spoke the truth." replied the abbe. the abbe took the diamond from his pocket. but there always comes a moment when he remembers — and behold — a proof!" As he spoke." cried Caderousse." said the abbe. and giving it to Caderousse. and which you tell me is still in your hands. and I never make a jest of such feelings. wretched.

" The woman gazed at it a moment. and then said. who kept uttering his loud farewells. "yes." 247 . all that I have heard really true?" she inquired. and ran rapidly in the direction opposite to that which the priest had taken. he saw behind him La Carconte. in a gloomy voice. there are always jewellers from Paris there.more saluted the innkeeper. and then returned by the road he had travelled in coming. 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. "False!" he muttered. the fair is on at Beaucaire. "What? That he has given the diamond to us only?" inquired Caderousse. here it is. and I will show it to them. "Fifty thousand francs!" muttered La Carconte when left alone. then. half bewildered with joy." "In what way?" "Why. "Is. paler and trembling more than ever. taking up his hat. nothing more true! See. Look after the house. When Caderousse turned around. "it is a large sum of money. "we will soon find out. "Oh!" he said. but it is not a fortune. you blockhead!" Caderousse remained for a moment aghast under the weight of such an idea. wife." and Caderousse left the house in haste. "Suppose it's false?" Caderousse started and turned pale. and I shall be back in two hours.

de Boville. presented himself before the mayor of Marseilles. express from Rome. This is all I can say." "Sir. if you wish to learn more.Chapter 28 The Prison Register. therefore. The day after that in which the scene we have just described had taken place on the road between Bellegarde and Beaucaire. which seemed to indicate that it was not the first time he had been in his presence. "Sir. 15. dressed in a bright blue frock coat. a man of about thirty or two and thirty. the inspector of prisons. M. and have been these ten years. We are. He has lost four or five vessels. of Marseilles. As to M. sir. but it is not for me. made a gesture of surprise. Morrel. "I know very well that during the last four or five years misfortune has seemed to pursue M. connected with the house of Morrel & Son. although I am a creditor myself to the amount of ten thousand francs. Rue de Nouailles. I have come." The Englishman seemed to appreciate this extreme delicacy. as mayor. and if there be any grounds for apprehension. and a white waistcoat. of Rome. No." replied the mayor. We have a hundred thousand francs or thereabouts loaned on their securities. to ask you for information. to give any information as to the state of his finances. what is my opinion of M. de Boville was in his private room. and we are a little uneasy at reports that have reached us that the firm is on the brink of ruin. de Boville. I believe. proceeding with a characteristic British stride towards the street mentioned. Morrel. Ask of me. on perceiving him. that it was 248 . and the Englishman. he has." said he. two hundred thousand francs in Morrel's hands. and suffered by three or four bankruptcies. and who has up to this time fulfilled every engagement with scrupulous punctuality. he was in such a state of despair. nankeen trousers. made his bow and went away. you will most probably find him better informed than myself. "I am chief clerk of the house of Thomson & French. and I shall say that he is a man honorable to the last degree. address yourself to M. as this is a greater amount than mine. having the appearance and accent of an Englishman.

is. I ought to tell you that. Morrel of my desire to have these payments punctually. The Englishman appeared to reflect a moment. in whose name I act. sir. Our house. A ray of joy passed across M. — "From which it would appear. some motive to serve in hastening the ruin of a rival firm. absorbed in the thought which occupied him at the moment. you will not realize six per cent of this sum. I consider it lost. The Englishman. addressed him in terms nearly similar to those with which he had accosted the mayor of Marseilles. de Boville. "this looks very much like a suspension of payment. I had informed M. in all probability. "that is the affair of the house of Thomson & French. did not allow either his memory or his imagination to stray to the past.evident all the faculties of his mind. de Boville feared to lose. I will buy it of you!" "You?" "Yes. But all I know. I had two hundred thousand francs placed in the hands of Morrel & Son." "And you will pay" — "Ready money. of course?" "No. and he has been here within the last half-hour to tell me that if his ship. that this credit inspires you with considerable apprehension?" "To tell you the truth." And the Englishman drew from his pocket a bundle of bank-notes. I!" "But at a tremendous discount." replied the Englishman. "Oh. and you see before you a man in despair. and said. half on the 15th of this month. the Pharaon. with the coolness of his nation. I only ask a brokerage. these two hundred thousand francs were the dowry of my daughter. and then said." "Well. "your fears are unfortunately but too well founded. for two hundred thousand francs." said the Englishman." "It looks more like bankruptcy!" exclaimed M. "does not do things in that way." "But. — "Sir. yet he made an effort at self-control." "That's no affair of mine. who was to be married in a fortnight. de Boville's countenance. sir." exclaimed M. They have. de Boville despairingly. that I am ready to hand you over this sum in exchange for your assignment of the debt. which might have been twice the sum M. he would be wholly unable to make this payment. perhaps. and the other half on the 15th of next month. and these two hundred thousand francs were payable. then." added the Englishman with a laugh. sir. did not come into port on the 15th." 249 .

to recollect dates so well. will you have two — three — five per cent. — one of those who had contributed the most to the return of the usurper in 1815. he was." "You are the inspector of prisons?" "I have been so these fourteen years. and we could only go into his dungeon with a file of soldiers. I recollect him perfectly. sir." replied the Englishman." "What was his name?" "The Abbe Faria. I shall never forget his countenance!" The Englishman smiled imperceptibly. laughing. who disappeared suddenly." "Poor devil! — and he is dead?" "Yes. I beg." "You keep the registers of entries and departures?" "I do. that is perfectly just. "Yes. "The commission is usually one and a half." "I recollect this. 250 ." "Sir. de Boville. sir. but what sort of madness was it?" "He pretended to know of an immense treasure." "Oh. sir." "Well. "Oh dear." "May I ask what that was?" said the Englishman with an expression of curiosity." cried M. decidedly. I was educated at home by a poor devil of an abbe. which a close observer would have been astonished at discovering in his phlegmatic countenance. and offered vast sums to the government if they would liberate him. "I am like my house. and I should like to learn some particulars of his death. I have since learned that he was confined in the Chateau d'If. "he was crazy." "Very possibly. de Boville. and do not do such things — no. de Boville. sir. yes." "You have a good memory." replied M." "So they said." "Oh."Of course. or even more? Whatever you say. That man made a deep impression on me." "Indeed!" said the Englishman. the abbe's dungeon was forty or fifty feet distant from that of one of Bonaparte's emissaries. because the poor devil's death was accompanied by a singular incident." "Name it." cried M. the commission I ask is quite different. sir. five or six months ago — last February. "I myself had occasion to see this man in 1816 or 1817. — a very resolute and very dangerous man." "To these registers there are added notes relative to the prisoners?" "There are special reports on every prisoner.

by his own act disembarrassed the government of the fears it had on his account." "That must have cut short the projects of escape. "but not for the survivor. took his place in the sack in which they had sewed up the corpse." "Really!" exclaimed the Englishman. It appears. "As I have already told you." 251 ." he interposed. — "no matter. sir. no doubt. but it appears that this Edmond Dantes" — "This dangerous man's name was" — "Edmond Dantes. and they simply throw the dead into the sea." "That would have been difficult. and one that showed some courage." And he shouted with laughter. he was a very dangerous man. and he laughed too. thought that prisoners who died in the Chateau d'If were interred in an ordinary burial-ground. on the contrary. and he conveyed the dead man into his own cell. sir." "It was a bold step. and awaited the moment of interment. "at the end of his teeth." "Well. and threw him into the sea. "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." continued the inspector of prisons. "Yes." replied De Boville. in supreme good-humor at the certainty of recovering his two hundred thousand francs. "So can I. or made them. but he laughed as the English do." "The Chateau d'If has no cemetery. sir." "For the dead man." "No matter. no doubt. yes."And you say." observed the Englishman as if he were slow of comprehension. "Well." replied M. de Boville. that this Edmond Dantes had procured tools. they fastened a thirty-six pound ball to his feet. the Abbe Faria had an attack of catalepsy." "How was that?" "How? Do you not comprehend?" "No. I can fancy it. He. this Dantes saw a means of accelerating his escape. but unfortunately for the prisoners. with an intention of escape?" "No doubt. fortunately. after fastening a thirty-six pound cannon-ball to their feet. sir. and died." "This tunnel was dug." said the Englishman." remarked the Englishman. for they found a tunnel through which the prisoners held communication with one another. and. "that the two dungeons" — "Were separated by a distance of fifty feet.

each file of papers its place. and I will show it to you. if there were anything to inherit from him." And they both entered M. So." "But some official document was drawn up as to this affair. He is dead. Morrel's petition. yes."And so." continued the Englishman who first gained his composure. too. de Villefort's marginal notes. He folded up the accusation quietly." "Go into my study here. if he had any." "So that the governor got rid of the dangerous and the crazy prisoner at the same time?" "Precisely. examination. "But to return to these registers." "True. and put it as quietly in his pocket. it really seems to me very curious. "Yes." "So that now. this story has diverted our attention from them. and began to read his newspaper. indeed. Dantes' relations. the mortuary deposition. Everything was here arranged in perfect order. and placed before him the register and documents relative to the Chateau d'If." "Yes. The inspector begged the Englishman to seat himself in an arm-chair." "So be it. for after having perused the first documents he turned over the leaves until he reached the deposition respecting Edmond Dantes." "Oh. perused. M. 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 252 . they may do so with easy conscience. 1815. read the examination. There he found everything arranged in due order. giving him all the time he desired for the examination. I suppose?" inquired the Englishman. "he was drowned?" "Unquestionably. might have some interest in knowing if he were dead or alive. sir. you wish to see all relating to the poor abbe. who really was gentleness itself. by the deputy procureur's advice. and no mistake about it." said the Englishman. de Boville's study. in which Morrel. but it seemed that the history which the inspector had related interested him greatly. and they may have the fact attested whenever they please." "Excuse you for what? For the story? By no means. you will much oblige me. — the accusation. Excuse me. the application dated 10th April. yes. and saw that the name of Noirtier was not mentioned in it. You understand." "Yes. each register had its number. The Englishman easily found the entries relative to the Abbe Faria. while De Boville seated himself in a corner.

As we have said. kept back by Villefort. and discovered that the note in the bracket was the same writing as the certificate — that is to say.M." But it must be said that if he had seen it. 253 . and to be closely watched and guarded. took an active part in the return from the Island of Elba. "Thanks. placed in a bracket against his name: — Edmond Dantes. had seated himself in a corner.indispensable. under the second restoration. and was reading Le Drapeau Blanc. from the remarks we have quoted. however irregular it might be. but who had. and so much importance to his two hundred thousand francs. Beneath these lines was written in another hand: "See note above — nothing can be done. P. who took it without ceremony. He did not see the Englishman fold up and place in his pocket the accusation written by Danglars under the arbor of La Reserve. delivery 6 o'clock. acknowledge therein the receipt of the cash. He was no longer astonished when he searched on to find in the register this note. "I have all I want. and quickly drew up the required assignment.. and I will hand you over the money. and which had the postmark. found it impossible to give any effect to the interest he had felt. from discretion." He compared the writing in the bracket with the writing of the certificate placed beneath Morrel's petition. had become. was in Villefort's handwriting. As to the note which accompanied this. An inveterate Bonapartist. a terrible weapon against him in the hands of the king's attorney. while the Englishman counted out the bank-notes on the other side of the desk. Then he saw through the whole thing. the Englishman understood that it might have been added by some inspector who had taken a momentary interest in Dantes' situation. This petition to Napoleon. that he would not have opposed whatever the Englishman might do. and that he might not disturb the Abbe Faria's pupil in his researches. de Boville. "Marseilles. Give me a simple assignment of your debt. the inspector. 27th Feb. To be kept in strict solitary confinement. he attached so little importance to this scrap of paper. gave his seat to M. now it is for me to perform my promise. closing the register with a slam." He rose." said the latter.

and sunk to the rank of a servant. good. Morrel's service. Out of all the numerous clerks that used to fill the deserted corridor and the empty office. Cocles had seen them go without thinking of inquiring the cause of their 254 . re-echoing with the cries and the jokes of porters. would have found a great change. even against M. In the midst of the disasters that befell the house. Morrel. and of happiness that permeates a flourishing and prosperous business establishment — instead of merry faces at the windows. he had at the same time risen to the rank of cashier. in all probability. and had remained with him in spite of the efforts of his friends to induce him to withdraw. who was in love with M. on the contrary. Cocles remained in M. Morrel's daughter. Like the rats that one by one forsake the doomed ship even before the vessel weighs anchor. Any one who had quitted Marseilles a few years previously. Cocles was the only one unmoved. which he had at his fingers' ends. devoted. but two remained. and had returned at this date. and strong in the multiplication-table. called "Cocles. patient. have replied to any one who addressed him by it. and a most singular change had taken place in his position. one would have immediately perceived all aspect of sadness and gloom. but inflexible on the subject of arithmetic. busy clerks hurrying to and fro in the long corridors — instead of the court filled with bales of goods. the other was an old one-eyed cashier. the same Cocles. well acquainted with the interior of Morrel's warehouse. One was a young man of three or four and twenty. Instead of that air of life. from a firm conviction. however. of comfort. He was." or "Cock-eye. But this did not arise from a want of affection. and which had so completely replaced his real name that he would not. the only point on which he would have stood firm against the world. so all the numerous clerks had by degrees deserted the office and the warehouse. no matter what scheme or what trap was laid to catch him." a nickname given him by the young men who used to throng this vast now almost deserted bee-hive.Chapter 29 The House of Morrel and Son.

departure. the day after his interview with M. he went to the Beaucaire fair to sell his wife's and daughter's jewels and a portion of his plate. Morrel's. and that his business was with M. had been in for a fortnight. but his resources were now exhausted. saying: — "Thanks. Cocles appeared. questioned the new-comer. presented himself at M. of whose departure he had learnt from a vessel which had weighed anchor at the same time. he had collected all his resources. Emmanuel sighed. But since the end of the month M. M. and to meet the one hundred thousand francs due on the 10th of the present month. a question of arithmetic to Cocles. Cocles had detected an overbalance of fourteen sous in his cash. and during twenty years he had always seen all payments made with such exactitude. But this vessel which. with a melancholy smile. no hope but the return of the Pharaon. de Boville. the last month's payment had been made with the most scrupulous exactitude. Emmanuel. while no intelligence had been received of the Pharaon. Emmanuel received him. this young man was alarmed by the appearance of every new face. Such was the state of affairs when. you are the pearl of cashiers. himself the pearl of the honest men of Marseilles. who." Cocles went away perfectly happy. but the stranger declared that he had nothing to say to M. came from Calcutta. Cocles. Morrel had passed many an anxious hour. owing to the reports afloat. and. Nothing had as yet occurred to shake Cocles' belief. for every new face might be that of a new creditor. and the stranger 255 . wishing to spare his employer the pain of this interview. and the young man bade him conduct the stranger to M. Morrel in person. like the Pharaon. Morrel. and which had already arrived in harbor. as it would to a miller that the river that had so long turned his mill should cease to flow. In order to meet the payments then due. Morrel. Morrel's apartment. threw them into an almost empty drawer. By this means the end of the month was passed. flattered him more than a present of fifty crowns. that it seemed as impossible to him that the house should stop payment. for this eulogium of M. de Boville. in reality. was no longer to be had. the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French of Rome. fearing lest the report of his distress should get bruited abroad at Marseilles when he was known to be reduced to such an extremity. and the same evening he had brought them to M. come in anxiety to question the head of the house. Credit. Morrel had. The young man. and the one hundred thousand francs due on the 15th of the next month to M. Cocles went first. and summoned Cocles. Everything was as we have said.

so my cashier tells me. while the stranger and Cocles continued to mount the staircase. was now in his fiftieth.followed him. who looked with anxiety at the stranger." "He has told you rightly. this worthy gentleman has only to announce the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French of Rome. and offered a seat to the stranger." 256 . who. "M. and charged me as they became due to present them. opened a door in the corner of a landing-place on the second staircase. mademoiselle. was now irresolute and wandering. as if he feared being forced to fix his attention on some particular thought or person." "It will be useless to announce me. and when he had seen him seated. "So then." said Morrel. Morrel closed the ledger." said Morrel. you are aware from whom I come?" "The house of Thomson & French. Morrel is in his room. She entered the office where Emmanuel was. Mademoiselle Julie?" said the cashier. and if my father is there. announce this gentleman. "you hold bills of mine?" "Yes. "M. time and sorrow had ploughed deep furrows on his brow. opened a second door.000 or 400. Morrel does not know my name. The Englishman entered. "Monsieur. and to employ the money otherwise. and for a considerable sum. "Go and see." returned the Englishman. with whom your father does business. and. monsieur. The house of Thomson & French had 300. which he closed behind him. turning over the formidable columns of his ledger. and his look. which was covered with perspiration. On the staircase they met a beautiful girl of sixteen or seventeen. The Englishman looked at him with an air of curiosity. knowing your strict punctuality. at least.000 francs to pay this month in France. At the sight of the stranger. sir. conducted the stranger into an ante-chamber. Cocles. once so firm and penetrating. M. and passed his hand over his forehead. is he not." Morrel sighed deeply. arose. evidently mingled with interest. returned and signed to him that he could enter." said the young girl hesitatingly. at least. whose uneasiness was increased by this examination. in his thirty-sixth year at the opening of this history. by the aid of a key he possessed. and after having left the clerk of the house of Thomson & French alone. which contained the list of his liabilities. resumed his own chair. I think so. "Yes. and found Morrel seated at a table. Fourteen years had changed the worthy merchant. have collected all the bills bearing your signature. his hair had turned white. "you wish to speak to me?" "Yes. while Cocles." The young girl turned pale and continued to descend.

"conceal from you. "Two hundred and eighty-seven thousand five hundred francs. who had himself conducted it for five and thirty years — never has anything bearing the signature of Morrel & Son been dishonored. I have for the end of the month these bills which have been assigned to us by the house of Pascal. whose face was suffused. I shall pay." said the other. of which I have been the victim. they are all signed by you. "But as a man of honor should answer another. "Is this all?" "No." said he. and assigned to our house by the holders. "an assignment of 200. but if the Pharaon should be lost. in all. he would be unable to honor his own signature." said the Englishman." At this almost brutal speech Morrel turned deathly pale. "Yes. the inspector of prisons.500 francs payable shortly." said he. "Sir. of course.000 francs. Yes. as I hope. that you owe this sum to him?" "Yes. de Boville. "if this last resource fail you?" 257 . and this last resource be gone" — the poor man's eyes filled with tears." said Morrel. and now here are 32.500 francs. to whom they are due. sir. and looked at the man. taking a quantity of papers from his pocket."What is the amount?" asked Morrel with a voice he strove to render firm. who spoke with more assurance than he had hitherto shown. and the house of Wild & Turner of Marseilles. "a straightforward answer should be given. amounting to nearly 55. shall you pay these with the same punctuality?" Morrel shuddered." repeated he. "Here is. my vessel arrives safely. half the 15th of next. 287. "To questions frankly put. for its arrival will again procure me the credit which the numerous accidents. have deprived me." "I recognize them." "When are you to pay?" "Half the 15th of this month." continued he." It is impossible to describe what Morrel suffered during this enumeration." replied the Englishman." "I know that. after a moment's silence. You acknowledge. for the first time in his life. tell me fairly." "Just so. as he thought that. "Well. "I will not.000 francs to our house by M. if." replied the Englishman. he placed the money in my hands at four and a half per cent nearly five years ago. yet the report is current in Marseilles that you are not able to meet your liabilities. "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.

258 . and the creaking of hinges was audible. and half-stifled sobs. passes a part of his time in a belvidere at the top of the house. The noise had ceased. which were those of several persons. sir. "it is a cruel thing to be forced to say. "In business." said he. in hopes of being the first to announce good news to me. I must habituate myself to shame. The stranger fancied he heard footsteps on the stairs. only correspondents. she is a Bordeaux vessel. the stranger gazing at him with an air of profound pity. who still adheres to my fallen fortunes. The two men remained opposite one another. but. A key was inserted in the lock of the first door. but she is not mine. "what is it?" A loud noise was heard on the stairs of people moving hastily. sir." Then in a low voice Morrel added. oh!" cried Morrel. stopped at the door. already used to misfortune." "Perhaps she has spoken the Pharaon. La Gironde." "Have you no friends who could assist you?" Morrel smiled mournfully." murmured the Englishman. but his strength failed him and he sank into a chair. turning pale. — completely ruined!" "As I was on my way here. and brings you some tidings of her?" "Shall I tell you plainly one thing." "The last?" "The last." "I know it. Uncertainty is still hope." "What is that?" said the Englishman. a young man. she ought to have been here a month ago. I fear I shall be forced to suspend payment."Well. "then you have but one hope. and something must follow. and that the footsteps." "But one. Morrel trembling in every limb." "So that if this fail" — "I am ruined. she comes from India also." "It is true. "one has no friends. — "This delay is not natural. The Pharaon left Calcutta the 5th February. "What is the meaning of that noise?" "Oh. he has informed me of the arrival of this ship." "And it is not yours?" "No. a vessel was coming into port. Morrel rose and advanced to the door." returned Morrel. sir? I dread almost as much to receive any tidings of my vessel as to remain in doubt. but it seemed that Morrel expected something — something had occasioned the noise.

" returned Morrel. "Good-day. "Good-day. Penelon. At the sight of these men the Englishman started and advanced a step. then restrained himself. "forgive your child for being the bearer of evil tidings."There are only two persons who have the key to that door." murmured Morrel. then?" said Morrel in a hoarse voice. her eyes bathed with tears. and had just returned from Aix or Toulon. "Oh. Madame Morrel sat down by her husband and took one of his hands in hers. "And the crew?" asked Morrel." Morrel again changed color. "saved by the crew of the vessel that has just entered the harbor. He would have spoken." Morrel raised his two hands to heaven with an expression of resignation and sublime gratitude. Penelon." said he. and you will see him in a few days all alive and hearty. Morrel. "and tell us all about it. Julie still lay with her head on his shoulder." At this instant the second door opened. but she made an affirmative sign with her head as she lay on her father's breast. Emmanuel stood in the centre of the chamber and seemed to form the link between Morrel's family and the sailors at the door. "Thanks." said the girl. "Come in." said the young man. supporting himself by the arm of the chair. "Cocles and Julie. Penelon. Morrel rose tremblingly." 259 ." A tear moistened the eye of the phlegmatic Englishman. appeared. "courage!" "The Pharaon has gone down. but please God. M." Scarcely had he uttered those words than Madame Morrel entered weeping bitterly." An old seaman. it won't be much. twirling the remains of a tarpaulin between his hands. my God." said he. but his voice failed him. and in the antechamber were visible the rough faces of seven or eight half-naked sailors. who could not refrain from smiling through his tears. father!" murmured she. The young girl did not speak. and retired into the farthest and most obscure corner of the apartment. "Draw nearer. advanced. father. "for I presume you are all at the door. M. Emmanuel followed her. and the young girl. "at least thou strikest but me alone." "Well. "Saved. "How did this happen?" said Morrel. "Oh. — he has stayed behind sick at Palma. "where is the captain?" "The captain." said Morrel. clasping her hands. Morrel. bronzed by the tropical sun. as if he had just quitted Marseilles the previous evening. now tell your story. father!" said she. come in. Julie threw herself into his arms.

' answered he. turned his head. Penelon put his hand over his eyes.Penelon rolled his quid in his cheek." said the Englishman. and we sailed under mizzen-tops'ls and to'gall'nt sails. advanced his foot. all hands! Take in the studding-sl's and stow the flying jib. and sent a long jet of tobacco-juice into the antechamber. but it was too late. M. ten minutes after we struck our tops'ls and scudded under bare poles. "we put the helm up to run before the tempest. "Eh. and that they would not be so black if they didn't mean mischief." His firm. the squall was on us. south-south-west after a week's calm. 260 . after four hours' work. haul out the reeftackles on the yards.' You could see the wind coming like the dust at Montredon. `since we are sinking. all hands lower the mains'l!' Five minutes after. `what makes you shake your head?' `Why. Penelon. it was that that did the business. Morrel. it was down. `All hands to the pumps!' I shouted. `Take in two reefs in the tops'ls." said the old sailor respectfully. `we shall have a gale. `let go the bowlin's. lower the to'gall'nt sails. and descended.' said the captain. `and I'll take precautions accordingly. `Ah. what do you think of those clouds coming up over there?' I was just then looking at them myself. We are carrying too much canvas.' It was time. there was already three feet of water. — "You see. `I still think you've got too much on. or I don't know what's what.' said the captain. haul the brace. `we have still too much canvas set. luckily the captain understood his business. and go down into the hold. sailing with a fair breeze. "we were somewhere between Cape Blanc and Cape Boyador.' `A gale? More than that. we shall have a tempest." "The vessel was very old to risk that.' — `That's my opinion too. `Penelon.' `That's the example you set. balanced himself. and unexpected voice made every one start.' said I.' said the captain.' said the captain." said the Englishman. give me the helm. let us sink. after pitching heavily for twelve hours we sprung a leak. and it seemed the more we pumped the more came in.' cried the captain. and then stared at the man who thus criticized the manoeuvres of his captain. we can die but once. there.'" "That was not enough for those latitudes. Avast. `Well. `I think we are sinking. sir. and the vessel began to heel. "We did better than that. when Captain Gaumard comes up to me — I was at the helm I should tell you — and says. `What do I think. sonorous." said he. `Ah. captain? Why I think that they are rising faster than they have any business to do.' I gave him the helm.' I says. `Penelon.' `I think you're right. "I should have taken four reefs in the topsails and furled the spanker. placed his hand before his mouth. and began.

we made signals of distress. she perceived us. It was the will of God that this should happen. but we will talk of it. "and during that time the wind had abated. `very well.' Now. he would not quit the vessel. "I should have said. "you see. `Get along — save yourselves." said Penelon. on the honor of a sailor. and M. Two inches an hour does not seem much. M. "Cocles. made for us. What wages are due to you?" "Oh.' He went into his cabin and came back with a brace of pistols.' said the captain. then. but in twelve hours that makes two feet. a sailor is attached to his ship. `we have done all in our power. so I took him round the waist. when we saw La Gironde. Give them." said Morrel. so we did not wait to be told twice. then the other way. It was time. There now. as quick as you can. "There's nothing gives you so much courage as good reasons." "Yes. and the sea gone down. To the boats. well. don't let us talk of that. but still it rose. but still more to his life.' We soon launched the boat. M. "At another time. he did not descend. and the little money that remains to me is not my own. or rather. so that we began to think of drawing lots who should feed the rest. `Come. `I will blow the brains out of the first man who leaves the pump. As for us. and took us all on board. and three we had before." 261 .Penelon.' cries the captain.' said he." said M. The captain descended last. Morrel. we were three days without anything to eat or drink. is not it true." added be. besides. and seemed to say. not much. two hundred francs over as a present. that the ship was sinking under us. my lads. and then good-by to the Pharaon." "Well. blessed be his name. we have tried to save the ship. that makes five." continued the sailor. for just as I jumped the deck burst with a noise like the broadside of a man-of-war. "Well. Morrel will have nothing to reproach us with. and threw him into the boat. M. the more so. Morrel. Morrel. pay two hundred francs to each of these good fellows. three months. and all eight of us got into it. "I know there was no one in fault but destiny. you fellows there?" A general murmur of approbation showed that the narrator had faithfully detailed their misfortunes and sufferings. wait a minute. Morrel. Ten minutes after she pitched forward. and then I jumped after him. let us now save ourselves. only two inches an hour. but the water kept rising. but times are changed. spun round and round. that's the whole truth." continued Penelon." "Well done!" said the Englishman.

we shall meet again in a happier time. "you send us away. at least. and exchanged a few words with them. almost overpowered. like the Pharaon. in which he had taken no part.Penelon turned to his companions. again turning his quid. "so I cannot accept your kind offer. and therefore I do not want any sailors. fortunately he recovered. Penelon nearly swallowed his quid." He made a sign to Cocles. my friends. you are free to do so. you'll build some. Julie gave the stranger a supplicating glance. who went first. M. "you have heard all. "What. M." 262 ." said the owner to his wife and daughter. and I do not send you away. Penelon." "I have no money to build ships with." And he glanced towards the clerk of Thomson & French. and that we will wait for the rest. "Well. and retired." "At least. you are then angry with us!" "No." "No more ships!" returned Penelon. Morrel. except the few words we have mentioned. Morrel. "Now. and I have nothing further to tell you." These last words produced a prodigious effect on the seaman. The two men were left alone." "Thanks. "as for that" — "As for what?" "The money. sinking into a chair. under bare poles. no. enough!" cried Morrel. and if you can find another employer." said M." "Enough. "As for that. Morrel!" said he in a low voice. quite the contrary." said he. enter his service. then. and see that my orders are executed. sir. "Yes. I pray you. go with them." "Well" — "Well. but I have no more ships." said Morrel. Now go. we'll wait for you. as she left the apartment. but." said the poor owner mournfully. "leave me. Emmanuel. who had remained motionless in the corner during this scene. "leave me. we shall see each other again. Morrel?" asked Penelon. "take it — take it. thanks!" cried Morrel gratefully. we all say that fifty francs will be enough for us at present. the seamen followed him and Emmanuel brought up the rear. to which he replied by a smile that an indifferent spectator would have been surprised to see on his stern features. I hope so. "I am not angry." "No more money? Then you must not pay us. The two women looked at this person whose presence they had entirely forgotten. "well. we can scud. I wish to speak with this gentleman. M.

with a rouleau of a hundred francs in 263 ." returned Morrel. sir!" cried Morrel. The stranger met Julie on the stairs. at least. and I have great hopes that heaven will reward you by giving you Emmanuel for a husband. overwhelming him with grateful blessings." returned the Englishman. Adieu. she pretended to be descending. "Oh. and continued to descend. "But. I take everything on myself. "I am one of your largest creditors." "Yes. and Morrel." returned Julie. "Let me see. The Englishman received his thanks with the phlegm peculiar to his nation." "Your bills." asked Morrel. sir" — said she. who." "Do you wish for time to pay?" "A delay would save my honor. conducted him to the staircase." "How long a delay do you wish for?" — Morrel reflected.' Do exactly what the letter bids you. To-day is the 5th of June. however strange it may appear. The stranger waved his hand. mademoiselle. the old ones destroyed. Continue to be the good." "Well. "Do you promise?" "I swear to you I will. sir. and leaned against the baluster. The bills were renewed. "that a fresh and unmerited misfortune his overwhelmed you."I see." said the stranger." "It is well." These last words were uttered in so low a tone that the stranger could not hear them. and consequently my life. In the court he found Penelon. "Two months. "will the house of Thomson & French consent?" "Oh." "I shall expect you. I shall come to receive the money." said he. "one day you will receive a letter signed `Sinbad the Sailor. "and I will pay you — or I shall he dead. "Mademoiselle." "Yes. and on the 5th of September at eleven o'clock (the hand of the clock pointed to eleven). blushed like a rose. and this only increases my desire to serve you. and the poor ship-owner found himself with three months before him to collect his resources. but in reality she was waiting for him." replied the stranger." Julie uttered a faint cry." "Oh. renew these bills up to the 5th of September. clasping her hands. sweet girl you are at present." continued the stranger. "I will give you three. are the first that will fall due.

" said the Englishman. "I wish to speak to you. seemed unable to make up his mind to retain them. "Come with me." 264 . my friend.either hand.

000 francs of M. The opinion of all the commercial men was that.000 francs. The bills signed by Morrel were presented at his office with scrupulous exactitude. for which. The extension provided for by the agent of Thomson & French. in business he had correspondents.000 francs at the end of three months than hasten his ruin. Great. and on the 30th the 32. he had time granted. and some even came to a contrary decision. Emmanuel." Unfortunately. if not of tranquillity. de Boville. and his daughter all that had occurred. he could by no means account for this generous conduct on the part of Thomson & French towards him. and get only six or eight per cent of our money back again. he must be a ruined man. Morrel had not only engagements with the house of Thomson & French. Cocles thus remained in his accustomed tranquillity. thanks to the delay granted by the Englishman.500 francs of bills. therefore. that if he had to repay on the 15th the 50.Chapter 30 The Fifth of September. and the general opinion was that the complete ruin of the unfortunate shipowner had been 265 . and. and could only attribute it to some such selfish argument as this: — "We had better help a man who owes us nearly 300. Still confidence was not restored to all minds. was the astonishment when at the end of the month. as he had said. under the reverses which had successively weighed down Morrel. who had shown themselves so considerate towards him. and. When he thought the matter over. at the moment when Morrel expected it least. returned to the family. however. 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. and not friends. it was impossible for him to remain solvent. Unfortunately. and a ray of hope. all Morrel's correspondents did not take this view. and have those 300. It was Morrel alone who remembered with alarm. whether through envy or stupidity. as well as the debt due to the inspector of prisons. he cancelled all his obligations with his usual punctuality. were paid by Cocles with equal punctuality. The same day he told his wife.

"Worthy fellows!" said Morrel. for they also had disappeared. and to offer him employment from his new master. and only acknowledged the squeeze of the hand which Morrel as usual gave him by a slight pressure in return. of the captain's brave conduct during the storm. the inspector of prisons. it would seem. who was going up. drew on one side into the corner of the landing-place. Penelon had. and his cashier Cocles. he was. and tried to console him. he found himself in a condition to meet his engagements when the end of July came. and was even in request. passed his quid from one cheek to the other. Morrel had some funds coming in on which he could rely. which Captain Gaumard had not dared to apply for. The agent of Thomson & French had not been again seen at Marseilles. from Penelon's recital. and be more fortunate than I have been!" August rolled by in unceasing efforts on the part of Morrel to renew his credit or revive the old. On the 20th of August it was known at Marseilles that he had left town in the mailcoach. he had disappeared. at any date. Morrel now tried to negotiate bills at ninety days only. and thus his bashfulness arose from the fact of his not having. The month passed. The worthy shipowner knew. made good use of his money. He brought him also the amount of his wages. As to the sailors of the Pharaon. and as in that city he had had no intercourse but with the mayor. Morrel met Penelon. no doubt. and Morrel made extraordinary efforts to get in all his resources. stared stupidly with his great eyes. Morrel. they must have found snug berths elsewhere. Captain Gaumard. it was evident the good fellow had not gone to such an expense on his own account. and M. As he descended the staircase. as he went away. and then it was said that the bills would go to protest at the end of the month. 266 . if we may so express ourselves. worn mourning for the Pharaon longer. and none of the banks would give him credit. and that Morrel had gone away and left his chief clerk Emmanuel. Morrel attributed Penelon's embarrassment to the elegance of his attire. was taken with confidence. as they reached him. but the owner. for he was newly clad. Perhaps he had come to tell Captain Gaumard of his good luck. went to see him. When he saw his employer. his departure left no trace except in the memories of these three persons. and. recovered from his illness. engaged on board some other vessel. He delayed presenting himself at Morrel's. or two days after his visit to Morrel.postponed only until the end of the month. Fortunately. "may your new master love you as I loved you. the day after. the worthy tar seemed much embarrassed. had returned from Palma. hearing of his arrival. Formerly his paper.

In his regiment Maximilian Morrel was noted for his rigid observance. and Cocles appeared behind the grating of the counter. the house opened as usual. Morrel had fully meet the creditors. Besides. but had kept away from some instinctive motive." said the two women to Emmanuel. paid all with the usual precision. he had but to pass his word for a loan. then. examined all bills presented with the usual scrutiny. the failure was put off until the end of September. and then. Morrel had long thought of Danglars. contrary to all expectation. There came in. when the 31st of August came. from first to last. and then going to his private room on the second floor had sent for Cocles. for he returned home crushed by the humiliation of a refusal. and had lain under great obligations to Morrel in former days." It was agreed in a brief council held among them. Morrel had thought of Danglars. "we are indeed ruined. and. moreover. and expected promotion on the first vacancy. All this was incomprehensible. or say one harsh word. He embraced his weeping wife and daughter. and had delayed as long as possible availing himself of this last resource. The poor women felt instinctively that they required all their strength to support the blow that impended. two drafts which M. who was in garrison at Nimes. For a year he had held this rank. without taking a crown from his pocket. not only of the obligations imposed on a soldier. but also of the duties of a man. had great influence over his father. upright young man. and had unlimited credit. though hardly two and twenty. on his arrival. that Julie should write to her brother. and he thus gained the name 267 . But. who was now immensely rich. "Then. pressed Emmanuel's hand with friendly warmth. Maximilian Morrel. with whom he had laid the foundations of his vast wealth. And Morrel was right. Yet. On the 1st. could save Morrel. Morrel returned. he was awaited by his family with extreme anxiety. passed brilliantly through the Polytechnic School. and Morrel was saved. for from this journey to Paris they hoped great things. since to him it was owing that Danglars entered the service of the Spanish banker. with the tenacity peculiar to prophets of bad news. and left it as sub-lieutenant of the 53d of the line. He had at once declared for a military life. to come to them as speedily as possible. It was said at this moment that Danglars was worth from six to eight millions of francs. Morrel did not utter a complaint. Danglars. At the time when he decided on his profession his father had no desire to choose for him. but had consulted young Maximilian's taste. He was a strong-minded. and had in consequence studied hard. and which Cocles paid as punctually as the bills which the shipowner had accepted.

Night came. he appeared very calm. and counted the money. mademoiselle. and fastened the door inside. gave him 14. opened the portfolio. trembling. This calmness was more alarming to the two women than the deepest dejection would have been. and half an hour after Julie had retired. After dinner Morrel usually went out and used to take his coffee at the Phocaean club. "Oh. this day he did not leave the house. or 8. when Morrel went down to his dinner. and his features betraying the utmost consternation. the two women had watched.000. The young man was too well acquainted with the business of the house. The young lady went towards Madame Morrel. Morrel examined the ledgers. Emmanuel tried to comfort the women. for the moment after Morrel had entered his private office with Cocles. and went stealthily along the passage. As to Cocles.000 francs to meet debts amounting to 287. and did not even know what it meant. a portfolio. took off her shoes. However.000." We need hardly say that many of those who gave him this epithet repeated it because they had heard it. his bills receivable up to the 5th to 4. In the passage she saw a retreating shadow.000 francs.000 or 5. For part of the day he went into the court-yard. but returned to his office. 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. but the worthy creature hastened down the staircase with unusual precipitation. She would have questioned him as he passed by her. but his eloquence faltered. seated himself on a stone with his head bare and exposed to the blazing sun. but they heard him pass before their door. hoping that when he left his room Morrel would come to them. he seemed completely bewildered. and a bag of money. 268 .of "the stoic. mademoiselle. to see through the keyhole what her husband was doing. had anticipated her mother. 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. He had not even the means for making a possible settlement on account. and only raised his hands to heaven and exclaimed.500 francs. and read the Semaphore. who. and trying to conceal the noise of his footsteps. They listened. uneasy herself. he went into his sleeping-room. Madame Morrel sent her daughter to bed. which. she rose. making the best of everything. it was Julie. not to feel that a great catastrophe hung over the Morrel family. All his funds amounted to 6. Julie saw the latter leave it pale. They had not mistaken the gravity of this event.

Madame Morrel remained listening for every sound. They did not dare to ask him how he had slept. and held her for a long time against his bosom. father. Next day M. and yet had not strength to utter a word. and then. that although he was apparently so calm. Julie. "that you should take this key from me?" "Nothing. and. what her daughter had not observed. until three o'clock in the morning." Julie made a pretence to feel for the key. Julie told her mother. the tears starting to his eyes at this simple question. Morrel was kinder to his wife. if possible. — "nothing. but the agitation of the night was legible in his pale and careworn visage. Madame Morrel looked again through the keyhole. came to his breakfast punctually." She questioned Emmanuel. only I want it. than he had ever been. that her husband was writing on stamped paper. Why did her father ask for this key which she always kept. was following her father when he quitted the room. mindful of Emmanuel's request. he placed his daughter beside him. He was calm. my dear. but Madame Morrel remarked. It was three o'clock when he threw himself on the bed."He is writing. Morrel was writing. He could not cease gazing at and kissing the sweet girl. but he said to her quickly. "What have I done wrong. after dinner. and which was only taken from her in childhood as a punishment? The young girl looked at Morrel. Julie trembled at this request. The terrible idea that he was writing his will flashed across her. 269 . "I wish you to do so. The mother and daughter passed the night together. dearest. At eight o'clock in the morning Morrel entered their chamber. more affectionate to his daughter. "and to-morrow morning. took her head in his arms. "I must have left it in my room. M." replied the unhappy man. "Do not give this key to your father. do not quit him for a moment. The next two days passed in much the same way. Morrel seemed as calm as ever. During the night." Julie wished to accompany him. On the evening of the 4th of September. but instead of going to her apartment she hastened to consult Emmanuel." said he." she said. she shuddered. which seemed to her of bad omen. went into his office as usual. — "Remain with your mother. In the evening. between the 4th and 5th of September. And she went out." she said. but he knew nothing." she said. she had noticed that her father's heart beat violently. or would not say what he knew. They had expected Maximilian since the previous evening. They had understood each other without speaking. she heard her husband pacing the room in great agitation." said he. Morrel asked his daughter for the key of his study.

and give it to your father." The young lady rushed out of the apartment. "Yes. "Mother. but on the first step of the staircase she found a man holding a letter in his hand. "Are you not Mademoiselle Julie Morrel?" inquired the man. But there is no need to know danger in order to fear it. and threw herself into her son's arms. the porter will reply that he does not know anything about it. An instant afterwards the door opened. "Maximilian.This was the first time Morrel had ever so spoken. and saw there was a postscript. It is important that he should receive it before eleven o'clock. enter the house No. Julie hesitated. or should any one else go in your place." This postscript decreased greatly the young girl's happiness. Was there nothing to fear? was there not some snare laid for her? Her innocence had kept her in ignorance of the dangers that might assail a young girl of her age. but he said it in a tone of paternal kindness." he said. and I have come hither with all speed. She read: — "It is important that you should fulfil this mission in person and alone. "what is your pleasure? I do not know you. she felt two arms encircle her." said the young man. sir. looking alternately at Madame Morrel and her daughter. with a strong Italian accent. She cast her eyes again over the note to peruse it a second time. indeed. handing it to her. ask the porter for the key of the room on the fifth floor. making a sign to the young man." replied Julie with hesitation. "It concerns the best interests of your father. "go and tell your father that Maximilian has just arrived. and Julie did not dare to disobey. She opened it quickly and read: — "Go this moment to the Allees de Meillan. If you go accompanied by any other person. 15." said the messenger. The young girl hastily took the letter from him. and a mouth pressed her forehead. take from the corner of the mantelpiece a purse netted in red silk. my dearest brother!" she cried." "Julie. She looked up and uttered an exclamation of joy. raised her eyes." "Read this letter. but he had disappeared. looked round to question the messenger." The young girl uttered a joyful cry. "Sinbad the Sailor. it 270 . "what has occurred — what has happened? Your letter has frightened me. enter the apartment. She remained at the same spot standing mute and motionless. You promised to obey me implicitly. At these words Madame Morrel rose. Remember your oath." said Madame Morrel.

and if you are so long absent as to make me uneasy. "And you shall be alone. rushing hastily out of 271 . then. She hastened down and told him what had occurred on the day when the agent of Thomson & French had come to her father's. after the succession of misfortunes which had befallen his father. Then. hastening away with the young man. "we have not fifteen thousand francs in the house." "But did you not read that I must be alone?" said Julie. "Listen." "To-day. Emmanuel hesitated a moment." replied the young man.may be observed." said Emmanuel. related the scene on the staircase. if to-day before eleven o'clock your father has not found someone who will come to his aid. Emmanuel?" said the young girl with hesitation. then. is it not?" "Yes." he said. come. then. he will be compelled at twelve o'clock to declare himself a bankrupt. but to Emmanuel. Yet. Emmanuel?" she asked." "Well. He was thunderstruck. we know that. Did not the messenger say your father's safety depended upon it?" "But what danger threatens him. "Yes. through a singular impulse. then. and showed him the letter. repeated the promise she had made. The young man knew quite well that. "to-day is the 5th of September. mademoiselle. During this time. Madame Morrel had told her son everything." "Oh." continued Emmanuel. great changes had taken place in the style of living and housekeeping." "What will happen then?" "Why. but he did not know that matters had reached such a point. that it is usually unknown perils that inspire the greatest terror. and resolved to take counsel. I will hasten to rejoin you. at eleven o'clock. "it is your opinion that I should obey this invitation?" "Yes. come!" cried she. your father has nearly three hundred thousand francs to pay?" "Yes. "I will await you at the corner of the Rue de Musee. then. Julie hesitated. it was neither to her mother nor her brother that she applied. "You must go. and woe to him of whom you shall have cause to complain to me!" "Then. I will accompany you. but his desire to make Julie decide immediately made him reply. "Go there?" murmured Julie.

to meet this disastrous result?" asked the young man. and saw his father." And with a firm step Morrel went up to his study. M. While he was yet at the door of the study he heard the bedroom door open. but he rapped there in vain. "our name is dishonored!" "Blood washes out dishonor. He remained motionless on the spot." "And in half an hour. Morrel uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of his son." he exclaimed." exclaimed the young man. Morrel had to pay. he said. and threw his arms round his father's neck. "what are you going to do with that brace of pistols under your coat?" "Oh. looking fixedly at his son. The young man was overwhelmed as he read. Morrel opened the door. this is what I feared!" said Morrel. Maximilian sprang down the staircase. Morrel had returned to his bed-chamber. in heaven's name. of whose arrival he was ignorant. "I have. turned. Morrel said not a word. "You are right." said Maximilian in a gloomy voice. What could he say? What need he add to such a desperate proof in figures? "And have you done all that is possible. but suddenly he recoiled.257 francs. In this ledger was made out an exact balance-sheet of his affair's." replied Morrel. father. and a man of honor. All he possessed was 15." Then extending his hand towards one of the pistols. expecting to find his father in his study. and pointed with his finger to an open ledger. "There is one for you and one for me — thanks!" Morrel caught his hand. Come. and I will explain to you. "You have no money coming in on which you can rely?" "None. pressing with his left hand something he had concealed under his coat. he ran up-stairs. after a moment's pause. "you are a man. crossing the anteroom. I understand you.500 francs. went to his desk on which he placed the pistols. "what are these weapons for?" "Maximilian.the apartment. trembling as he went. then. father." said Morrel. 287. which he was only this moment quitting. Instead of going direct to his study. within half an hour." "You have exhausted every resource?" "All. father. while Maximilian followed him." replied Morrel. turning pale as death. "Father. "Your mother — your sister! Who will 272 . and placed his right hand on Morrel's breast. "Read!" said Morrel. "Father. and closed it behind his son.

Maximilian smiled. "it is your duty. `My father died because he could not do what I have this day done. if I live. "You know it is not my fault. that day of complete restoration. Go to work. Then do your best to keep our name free from dishonor. I only ask you to examine my position as if it were your own. my best friends would avoid my house. I do so bid you. but Maximilian caught him in his arms. If." The young man reflected for a moment. your mother and sister. how grand. Maximilian. all would be changed. but he died calmly and peaceably. only a bankrupt. drew him forward. I die. father. my father." "My father. You have a calm. "Father. "do you reflect that you are bidding me to live?" "Yes. `The edifice which misfortune has destroyed. Living." he said. yes. and with a slow and sad gesture he took off his two epaulets. "Be it so. yes.'" "My father. failed in his engagements — in fact. my son.' On seeing me die such a death. struggle ardently and courageously. and kissing his forehead several times said. young man. with the most rigid economy. I bless you in my own name. providence may build up again. you are no ordinary man. go and rejoin your mother and sister. because in dying he knew what I should do. and then judge for yourself. bending his knee. dead. extending his hand to Morrel. Reflect how glorious a day it will be. they will accord the time they have refused to me. To you. labor. "why should you not live?" "If I live." he said. them?" A shudder ran through the young man's frame. and in the name of three generations of irreproachable men. "bless me!" Morrel took the head of his son between his two hands. my corpse is that of an honest but unfortunate man. 273 . Maximilian. so that from day to day the property of those whom I leave in your hands may augment and fructify. I make no requests or commands. and those two noble hearts were pressed against each other for a moment. "Oh. interest would be converted into doubt. remember." said the young man. "die in peace. if I live I am only a man who his broken his word. the most inexorable will have pity on you." answered Morrel. on which you will say in this very office. on the contrary. strong mind. the insignia of his rank. I will live. then. yourself." said Morrel. who say through me. how solemn. you are the most honorable man I have ever known. pity into hostility. my father. then an expression of sublime resignation appeared in his eyes. "I know." Morrel was about to cast himself on his knees before his son." "Good. perhaps. live. my father!" cried the young man. And now there is no more to be said.

You will find my will in the secretary in my bedroom. my father?" inquired Maximilian in a faltering voice. and ordered to carry a certain redoubt. once more. Morrel shook his head. as you said just now. I would be alone." The young man remained standing and motionless. Its agent. then putting forth his arm. or. "Go. and death is preferable to shame!'" "Yes. father." "Have you no particular commands to leave with me. "yes. but appeared resigned. my father." and once again embracing his father with convulsive pressure. Maximilian. Let this house be the first repaid. he has been compelled to break his word. I will not say granted. and endeavor to keep your mother and sister away." said Maximilian.'" The young man uttered a groan.all Marseilles will follow me in tears to my last home. it may be. adieu. "leave me alone. "I saw her this morning. would you not say to me. my son. leave me. "Hear me." "Will you not see my sister once more?" asked Maximilian. "Be it so. and a sacred command. who will in ten minutes present himself to receive the amount of a bill of 287. When his son had left him. Cocles appeared." "Say it. yes. It was no longer the same man — the fearful revelations of the three last days had crushed him. for you are dishonored by delay. A last but final hope was concealed by the young man in the effect of this interview. Living. from humanity. having but the force of will and not the power of execution. Morrel remained an instant standing with his eyes fixed on the door. you would feel shame at my name." "The house of Thomson & French is the only one who." said his father. `I am the son of him you killed. he said. because. "And now. my father. I will. you may raise your head and say. my son. and therefore he had suggested it." said the young man. for the first time. "And now. After a moment's interval." "Father. "Yes. and you knew I must be killed in the assault. but offered me three months.500 francs. `Go." said Morrel. "Suppose I was a soldier like you." said Morrel." And he rushed out of the study. selfishness — it is not for me to read men's hearts — has had any pity for me. and respect this man. he pulled the bell. This thought — the house of Morrel is about 274 . and bade her adieu. dead.

The pistol fell from his hands. one must have seen his face with its expression of enforced resignation and its tear-moistened eyes raised to heaven. yet certainly plausible." Cocles made no reply. "My worthy Cocles. "Saved. that he must separate himself from all he held dear in the world. went into the anteroom. but he had convinced himself by a course of reasoning." He placed the muzzle of the pistol between his teeth. out of breath. he seemed to see its motion. a pang stronger than death clutched at his heart-strings. that was all. "The agent of Thomson & French. you are saved!" And she threw herself into his arms. "do you remain in the ante-chamber. and murmured his daughter's name. he was surrounded by the loving care of a devoted family. Morrel did not turn round — he expected these words of Cocles. took one up. He was still comparatively young. even life itself. What passed in the mind of this man at the supreme moment of his agony cannot be told in words. and seated himself.000 francs. announce his arrival to me. holding in her extended hand a red. At this moment of mortal anguish the cold sweat came forth upon his brow. "My father!" cried the young girl. Then he laid it down seized his pen. Suddenly he heard a cry — it was his daughter's voice. and then shuddered at the click of the trigger as he cocked the pistol. The hand moved on with incredible rapidity." said Morrel in a tone impossible to describe. It seemed to him as if he had not taken a sufficient farewell of his beloved stop payment — bent him to the earth more than twenty years would otherwise have done. there were seven minutes left. Then he turned again to the clock. and started as he did so. When the gentleman who came three months ago — the agent of Thomson & French — arrives. and half dead with joy — "saved. but by seconds. At one end was the receipted bill for the 287. "what do you mean?" "Yes. netted silk purse. his eyes fixed on the clock. for a vague remembrance reminded him that it once belonged to himself. see!" said the young girl. Morrel fell back in his chair. 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. The minute hand moved on. He took up the deadly weapon again. his lips parted and his eyes fixed on the clock. and at the other was a diamond 275 . The pistols were loaded. Morrel took the purse. saved — saved! See. counting time now not by minutes. and wrote a few words. To form the slightest idea of his feelings. he made a sign with his head. He turned and saw Julie. illogical perhaps. my child!" said Morrel. he stretched forth his hand.

"The Pharaon!" he cried. fabulous facts." "But. dear ones. impossible!" But what was real and not less incredible was the purse he held in his hand." cried Maximilian. my child. "let us go and see. "what can it mean? — the Pharaon?" "Come. his strength was failing him. "Father. At this moment Emmanuel entered. "Emmanuel accompanied me. "The Pharaon. 15." said Morrel. All the crowd gave way before Morrel. At this moment the clock struck eleven. He felt as if each stroke of the hammer fell upon his heart." he said. after he had read it. "this purse is not yours!" Julie handed to her father the letter she had received in the morning. But his son came in." cried Morrel. and on the stairs met Madame Morrel. in front of the tower of Saint-Jean. sir — they signal the Pharaon! The Pharaon is entering the harbor!" Morrel fell back in his chair. — "Monsieur Morrel!" "It is his voice!" said Julie. "the Pharaon!" "What — what — the Pharaon! Are you mad. refused to comprehend such incredible. rising from his seat. In a moment they were at the Cannebiere. "And did you go alone?" asked Morrel. strange to say. "if this be so. it must be a miracle of heaven! Impossible. "explain — where did you find this purse?" "In a house in the Allees de Meillan. the Pharaon!" said every voice. who had been afraid to go up into the study. unheard-of." he said." "My dear friends. "The Pharaon. but. and heaven have pity upon us if it be false intelligence!" They all went out. father. and they say she is now coming into port. Morrel passed his hand over his brow. sir. And. on the corner of a mantelpiece in a small room on the fifth floor. 276 . his understanding weakened by such events. wonderful to see. "Explain. it seemed to him a dream. Emmanuel? You know the vessel is lost." "Monsieur Morrel!" exclaimed a voice on the stairs. "how could you say the Pharaon was lost? The lookout has signalled her." said Morrel. printed in white letters." exclaimed Cocles. his countenance full of animation and joy. He was to have waited for me at the corner of the Rue de Musee." "The Pharaon. with these words on a small slip of parchment: — Julie's Dowry. "Explain. There was a crowd on the pier. No. the acceptance receipted — the splendid diamond. my child. "Ah. was a ship bearing on her stern these words. he was not there when I large as a hazel-nut.

who. on whose deck he sprung with the activity of a sailor. with cochineal and indigo. with his face halfcovered by a black beard." said the unknown. and on the deck was Captain Gaumard giving orders. and. humanity. descended one of the flights of steps provided for debarkation. and conveyed him to a yacht splendidly fitted up. of Marseilles. and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like your good deeds. Morrel. be blessed for all the good thou hast done and wilt do hereafter. "farewell kindness. and good old Penelon making signals to M. noble heart. and thanking with a look the unknown benefactor whom he seemed to be seeking in the skies. As Morrel and his son embraced on the pier-head. he left his hidingplace. To doubt any longer was impossible. and hailing three times. She cast anchor. concealed behind the sentry-box. and who. clued up sails. 277 . in the presence and amid the applause of the whole city witnessing this event. Jacopo. a man." And with a smile expressive of supreme content. and loaded. as that had been. as if only awaiting this signal.Morrel & Son. "And now. 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. weeping with joy. Jacopo!" Then a launch came to shore. watched the scene with delight. uttered these words in a low tone: "Be happy. there was the evidence of the senses. and ten thousand persons who came to corroborate the testimony. and without being observed. the yacht instantly put out to sea. took him on board. was shaking hands most cordially with all the crowd around him." She was the exact duplicate of the other Pharaon. thence he once again looked towards Morrel. shouted "Jacopo.

they wrote to Signor Pastrini. He traversed the island. after having followed the traces which the footsteps of the giant have left. if your excellency chose. where he was assured that red partridges abounded. One evening he cast off the painter of a sailboat from the iron ring that secured it to the dock at Leghorn. the cradle of Bonaparte) to visit Elba. especially when you have no great desire to sleep on the Piazza del Popolo. They accepted his offer. or the Campo Vaccino. which he offered at the low charge of a louis per diem. wrapped himself in his coat and lay down. and. The sport was bad.Chapter 31 Italy: Sinbad the Sailor. the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf and the Baron Franz d'Epinay. and said to the crew. Albert started for Naples. were at Florence. and re-embarked for Marciana. Franz only succeeded in killing a few partridges. — "To the Island of Elba!" The boat shot out of the harbor like a bird and the next morning Franz disembarked at Porto-Ferrajo. and after having passed a few days in exploring the paradise of the Cascine. he returned to the boat very much out of temper. and that Franz. Two hours after he again landed at Pianosa. Towards the beginning of the year 1838. Signor Pastrini replied that he had only two rooms and a parlor on the third floor. he took a fancy into his head (having already visited Corsica. They had agreed to see the Carnival at Rome that year. two young men belonging to the first society of Paris. to reserve comfortable apartments for them. who for the last three or four years had inhabited Italy. he remained at Florence." "Where?" 278 . As for Franz. should act as cicerone to Albert. like every unsuccessful sportsman. Piazza di Spagna. the proprietor of the Hotel de Londres." said the captain. but wishing to make the best use of the time that was left. "Ah. the waiting-place of Napoleon. and spending two or three evenings at the houses of the Florentine nobility. As it is no inconsiderable affair to spend the Carnival at Rome. "you might have capital sport.

" "The deuce! That puts a different face on the matter. indeed!" said the young man. I shall not. Upon his answer in the affirmative. Sardinia. "but we must warn your excellency that the island is an infected port." "But who will say your excellency has been to Monte Cristo?" "Oh. "what now? Is there any difficulty in the way?" "No. "Well." "To whom does this island belong?" "To Tuscany. we shall have to perform quarantine for six days on our return to Leghorn." said Franz with an incredulous smile. and Africa."Do you see that island?" continued the captain." "It is very natural. and his apartments at Rome were not yet available. or on board in your cloak. besides." "But I have no permission to shoot over this island. 279 . and if it becomes known that we have been there. this island is a mass of rocks. he accepted the proposition." "Your excellency does not require a permit." replied the captain. "A desert island in the midst of the Mediterranean must be a curiosity. "Well." "Who live upon the stones." "What do you mean?" "Monte Cristo although uninhabited." "What game shall I find there!" "Thousands of wild goats. the sailors exchanged a few words together in a low tone. and does not contain an acre of land capable of cultivation. I suppose. "No." asked he. Six days! Why. if your excellency pleases. "Nor I. but by browsing the shrubs and trees that grow out of the crevices of the rocks. nor I. we can leave as soon as you like — we can sail as well by night as by day." As Franz had sufficient time. for the island is uninhabited. that's as long as the Almighty took to make the world! Too long a wait — too long. yet serves occasionally as a refuge for the smugglers and pirates who come from Corsica. pointing to a conical pile rising from the indigo sea. and if the wind drops we can use our oars. what is this island?" "The Island of Monte Cristo." chorused the sailors." "Where can I sleep?" "On shore in the grottos." cried Franz." "Ah.

" "Well. it seems to me. and the four sailors had taken their places — three forward. has not arrived. they transfer from the vessel to their own boat whatever they think worth taking. why?" "Because. like us. doubtless. I heard that. and who yet. you would hear. and one at the helm — he resumed the conversation. manned by six or eight men. Now this rock it has met has been a long and narrow boat. pirates existed only in the romances of Cooper and Captain Marryat. or an English yacht that was expected at Bastia. if. the helm was put up. like the bandits who were believed to have been exterminated by Pope Leo XII. First one gun'l goes under. at Porto-Ferrajo.." "I knew there were smugglers. no one knows what has become of it. and it is true. Franz waited until all was in order. and the destruction of the regency. some dark and stormy night." said he to the captain." "But. spins 280 . "why do not those who have been plundered complain to the French. near some desert and gloomy island. Then they lift and sink again. as bandits plunder a carriage in the recesses of a forest. a large hole is chopped in the vessel's bottom. but. Soon the water rushes out of the scupper-holes like a whale spouting. who lay wrapped in his cloak at the bottom of the boat. Sardinian. then the other. and when the sail was filled." asked Franz. or at Civita Vecchia." "Yes. your excellency lived at Leghorn. who are. "Yes. rob travellers at the gates of Rome. or Tuscan governments?" "Why?" said Gaetano with a smile. "Gaetano. they attach to every one's neck a four and twenty pound ball. your excellency. a very different kind of game from the goats. At the end of ten minutes the vessel begins to roll heavily and settle down. and both go under at once. it has struck on a rock and foundered." The captain gave his orders. then they bind the crew hand and foot. and the boat was soon sailing in the direction of the island. then. there are pirates. yes. All at once there's a noise like a cannon — that's the air blowing up the deck. every day. from time to time. but I thought that since the capture of Algiers." "Your excellency is mistaken."Then steer for Monte Cristo. "you tell me Monte Cristo serves as a refuge for pirates. in the first place. the vessel gives a last groan. who have surprised and plundered it. and then they leave her. Has not your excellency heard that the French charge d'affaires was robbed six months ago within five hundred paces of Velletri?" "Oh. that a little merchant vessel.

the boat made six or seven knots an hour. Calm and resolute. although they appeared perfectly tranquil yet it was evident that they were on the alert. and I have answered. "why no complaints are made to the government." The wind blew strongly. and intercepting the light that gilded its massive peaks so that the voyagers were in shadow. with their white sails. rose dead ahead. were alone visible. and disappears. if at all. retreated. and your conversation is most interesting. and as I wish to enjoy it as long as possible. He was one of those men who do not rashly court danger." "I did not tell your excellency this to deter you from your project. steer for Monte Cristo. at last the reflection rested on the summit of the mountain. then gloom gradually covered the summit as it had covered the base.round and round. with green bushes and trees growing in the crevices. and why the vessel never reaches port?" It is probable that if Gaetano had related this previous to proposing the expedition. forming a vast whirlpool in the ocean. but now that they had started." "Yes. Franz would have hesitated. and they were rapidly reaching the end of their voyage. As for the sailors. showing their rugged peaks in bold relief." replied Gaetano. "I have travelled through Sicily and Calabria — I have sailed two months in the Archipelago. and won victory at a single thrust. As they drew near the island seemed to lift from the sea. combat it with the most unalterable coolness. this mass of rock." said the captain. They were within fifteen miles of Monte Cristo when the sun began to set behind Corsica. — calculated its probable method of approach. and on which a few fishingboats. like cannon balls in an arsenal. he treated any peril as he would an adversary in a duel. that's all. as a point of strategy and not from cowardice. so that in five minutes nothing but the eye of God can see the vessel where she lies at the bottom of the sea. whose mountains appeared against the sky. and the island now only appeared 281 . Little by little the shadow rose higher and seemed to drive before it the last rays of the expiring day. and that they carefully watched the glassy surface over which they were sailing. a formidable barrier. but if danger presents itself. and yet I never saw even the shadow of a bandit or a pirate. was quick to see an opening for attack. and the air was so clear that they could already distinguish the rocks heaped on one another. he thought it would be cowardly to draw back. "Bah!" said he. and then all is over. "but you questioned me. like the fiery crest of a volcano. like the giant Adamastor. Do you understand now. where it paused an instant.

" "You think. "It is for that reason I have given orders to pass the island. that goes for nothing. but he could not precisely make out what it was. "Hush!" said the captain. 282 . hidden by an elevation of the land." "But you told me the island was uninhabited?" "I said there were no fixed habitations on it. "What is this light?" asked he. "It seems to me rather reassuring than otherwise." returned Gaetano. they returned the way they had come. and in a few minutes the fire disappeared. half an hour after." said Gaetano. and after five minutes' discussion a manoeuvre was executed which caused the vessel to tack about. and the boat came to rest. land might resemble a cloud." returned Gaetano. men who did not wish to be seen would not light a fire. he remained silent. and the pilot who steered did not evince the slightest hesitation. Gaetano lowered the sail. Fortunately. and was soon within fifty paces of it." "And for pirates?" "And for pirates. but I said also that it served sometimes as a harbor for smugglers. repeating Franz's words. at a quarter of a mile to the left. as you see. the fire is behind us. which rapidly approached the island. this fire indicates the presence of unpleasant neighbors?" "That is what we must find out." "Oh. when Franz fancied he saw. the night was quite dark. An hour had passed since the sun had set. and fearing to excite the mirth of the sailors by mistaking a floating cloud for land. for." "But this fire?" continued Franz. then. "If you can guess the position of the island in the darkness. like the lynx. the mariners were used to these latitudes." Gaetano consulted with his companions. but the fire was not a meteor. a dark be a gray mountain that grew continually darker. "How can you find out?" "You shall see. to see in the dark. "it is a fire. suddenly a great light appeared on the strand. and knew every rock in the Tuscan Archipelago. but the sailors seemed. you will see that the fire cannot be seen from the side or from Pianosa. and from the moment that their course was changed not a word was spoken. but only from the sea. for in the midst of this obscurity Franz was not without uneasiness — Corsica had long since disappeared. All this was done in silence. and Monte Cristo itself was invisible. fixing his eyes on this terrestrial star. The pilot again changed the course of the boat.

it was evident that he had touched the shore. and for greater security we stand out to sea. and good fellows like us on board." said he. he examined his arms with the utmost coolness. and waited quietly. who had proposed the expedition." returned the other. As for Franz. while they got out their oars and held themselves in readiness to row away. and lowering himself noiselessly into the sea. when the same luminous track was again observed." 283 . "They are Spanish smugglers. smiling impenetrably. yes." "But these two Corsican bandits?" said Franz. smugglers are not thieves. "Then you know the men who are now on Monte Cristo?" "Oh. looked at the priming. so he had no shoes and stockings to take off. they come and demand hospitality of us." "Ah!" said Franz. "Well?" exclaimed Franz and the sailors in unison." "And do you think we have nothing to fear if we land?" "Nothing at all. of a fellow-creature. and recognize each other by signs." "And what are these Corsican bandits doing here with Spanish smugglers?" "Alas." returned the captain with an accent of the most profound pity. calculating the chances of peril. "they have with them two Corsican bandits. and the swimmer was soon on board. During this time the captain had thrown off his vest and shirt. Very often the bandits are hard pressed by gendarmes or carbineers. Every one on board remained motionless for half an hour. he had two double-barrelled guns and a rifle. we must live somehow. we sailors are like freemasons. they see a vessel. well. or at least the liberty. which. and saves the life. swam towards the shore with such precaution that it was impossible to hear the slightest sound. the four sailors fixed their eyes on him. would not be difficult. he loaded them. "then you are a smuggler occasionally. but that of the authorities.Gaetano. you can't refuse help to a poor hunted devil. "we ought always to help one another. "It is not their fault that they are bandits. This costs us nothing. This track soon disappeared. thanks to the darkness. who on the first occasion returns the service by pointing out some safe spot where we can land our goods without interruption. Gaetano?" "Your excellency. had taken all the responsibility on himself. and secured his trousers round his waist. he could only be traced by the phosphorescent line in his wake. we receive them. after these preparations he placed his finger on his lips. his feet were naked.

of which his companions sung the chorus. a very religious name. which had appeared improbable during the day. without any other escort than these men. and the two bandits make six. indeed. carefully keeping the boat in the shadow. he steered to the centre of the circle. it was a grave one. viewed his position in its true light. as they rounded a rocky point. I exhort you. Through the darkness Franz. on an island which had. singing a fishing song. and who had no reason to be devoted to him. who knew that he had several thousand francs in his belt. thanks to the smugglers and bandits. at least with curiosity. continuing his investigation. He was alone in the darkness with sailors whom he did not know. which is a very different thing. For a man who. steer to Monte Cristo. The history of the scuttled vessels. "let us demand hospitality of these smugglers and bandits." "By all means. — if not with envy. then." "How many are they?" "Four. Gaetano skirted the light." returned the captain. but which did not seem to Franz likely to afford him much hospitality." "Silence. he saw the fire more brilliant than ever." "What do you mean by having made a stiff? — having assassinated a man?" said Franz." "Just our number. At the first words of the song the men seated round the fire arose and approached the landing- 284 . The sailors had again hoisted sail. seemed very probable at night. On the other hand. as if it was not in a Corsican's nature to revenge himself. he was about to land. placed as he was between two possible sources of danger."How so?" "Because they are pursued for having made a stiff. Do you think they will grant it?" "Without doubt. then!" said Gaetano. for the last time. whose eyes were now more accustomed to it. could see the looming shore along which the boat was sailing. when they were opposite the fire. and his gun in his hand. and about it five or six persons seated." "Yes. and the vessel was once more cleaving the waves. we shall be able to hold them in check. and who had often examined his weapons. he kept his eye on the crew. I do more than permit. like Franz. so that if they prove troublesome. "I mean that they have killed an enemy. — which were very beautiful. but your excellency will permit us to take all due precautions. "Well. Every one obeyed. so. The blaze illumined the sea for a hundred paces around." said the young man. be as wise as Nestor and as prudent as Ulysses. and then.

Gaetano then exchanged a few words with this man which the traveller did not understand. presented arms after the manner of a sentinel. if you please. his dress. four strokes of the oar brought them to land. while two sailors kindled torches at the fire to light them on their way. and lastly came Franz." It is like that Turkish phrase of Moliere's that so astonished the bourgeois gentleman by the number of things implied in its utterance. no disquietude. the spot they chose did not suit the smuggler who filled the post of sentinel. Around in the crevices of the rocks grew a few dwarf oaks and thick bushes of myrtles. and a sailor held his rifle. the man on the beach. Gaetano had the other. Franz with his disembarkment. and. Franz coolly cocked both barrels. at which the carcass of a goat was roasting. "My name must rest unknown. but which evidently concerned him." The Italian s'accommodi is untranslatable. make yourself at home. "Come. and saw by the mass of cinders that had accumulated that he was not the first to discover this 285 . every one seemed occupied. Franz lowered a torch. "Will your excellency give your name. for he cried out." As soon as Gaetano had transmitted this answer. who remained at the shore) to their fire." Gaetano faltered an excuse. One of his guns was swung over his shoulder. then his comrades disembarked. — merely say I am a Frenchman travelling for pleasure. doubtless. did not excite any suspicion. They soon appeared satisfied and returned (with the exception of one. who. When the boat was within twenty paces of the shore. half artist. "S'accommodi. in which seats had been cut. Gaetano sprang to shore. The boat was moored to the shore. you are the master. and advanced to the opposite side. evidently seeking to know who the new-comers were and what were their intentions. consequently. who rose and disappeared among the rocks. exchanged a few words with the enter. The sailors did not wait for a second invitation. half dandy. Not a word was spoken. and cried. They advanced about thirty paces. their eyes fixed on the boat. but in the midst of all this carelessness it was evident that they mutually observed each other. you are welcome. "Not that way. he made a sign with his head to the sentinel. "Who comes there?" in Sardinian. turning to the boat. The man who had disappeared returned suddenly on the opposite side to that by which he had left. but. not unlike sentryboxes. who carried a carbine. it means at once. or remain incognito?" asked the captain. and then stopped at a small esplanade surrounded with rocks. said. the sentinel gave an order to one of the men seated round the fire. and they advanced a few paces to find a comfortable bivouac. the smugglers with their goat. the sailors with their sails.

He mentioned this to Gaetano. then?" "Listen. who replied that nothing could be more easy than to prepare a supper when they had in their boat. one of the halting-places of the wandering visitors of Monte Cristo. bread. before he will receive you at his house. and to spare. and rather a peculiar one." "Oh. once on terra firma. if not friendly. for supper." "His house? Has he built one here." Meanwhile the sailors had collected dried sticks and branches with which they made a fire. half a dozen partridges. and a good fire to roast them by." "The deuce! — and what is this condition?" "That you are blindfolded. at sight of the goat. but he makes one condition. As for his suspicions. "this chief is very polite. "the chief. who have nothing to lose." "Favorably or otherwise?" "Both. "Besides." added he. what he thought of this proposal." Franz looked at Gaetano." said Gaetano. "Ah. guessing Franz's thought. to see. once that he had seen the indifferent." observed Franz. his anxiety had quite disappeared." "There is something very peculiar about this chief. which was. when the captain returned with a mysterious air. or rather. if possible." returned Franz. I will go and offer them two of our birds for a slice. "What do they say?" 286 . "I do not know if what they say is true" — he stopped to see if any one was near. then?" "No. he has plenty." said Franz. had turned to appetite. but he has a very comfortable one all the same. "I know this is a serious matter." returned Gaetano. appearance of his hosts." "What should you do in my place?" "I. "go and try. doubtless. who was told you were a young Frenchman." "Well. — I should go. Franz waited impatiently. inhaling the aroma of the roasted meat. wine. and do not take off the bandage until he himself bids you. and I see no objection — the more so as I bring my share of the supper. were it only out of curiosity." "You would accept?" "Yes." replied he. it is not that.retreat. then?" "I have heard talk of him." "You know this chief. invites you to sup with him. so they say. lowering his voice." "You are a born diplomat. "if the smell of their roast meat tempts you. "anything new? — do they refuse?" "On the contrary. "Well.

had sat gravely plucking the partridges with the air of a man proud of his office. but Gaetano did. accepted. it is quite true." "What is his name?" "If you ask him he says Sinbad the Sailor. and asked him how these men had landed." "Come. who travels for his pleasure. Cama." "Gaetano had only seen the vessel from a distance. Gaetano departed with the reply." "Do you know. "that with such stories you make me think of Ali Baba's enchanted cavern?" "I tell you what I have been told. vowing that such treasures were only to be heard of in fairy tales. your excellency will do as you please." "Then you advise me to accept?" "Oh." observed Franz. I should be sorry to advise you in the matter. I thought. but my own opinion is she is a Genoese. who. Franz was prudent. and seeing only the prospect of a good supper. the pilot of the Saint Ferdinand. during this dialogue. She is what the English call a yacht." 287 . I don't say that." returned the sailor." continued Franz. "venture to build a vessel designed for such a purpose at Genoa?" "I did not say that the owner was a smuggler. "I know their vessel." "And how did a leader of smugglers. "No."That this chief inhabits a cavern to which the Pitti Palace is nothing. went in once. reseating himself." "What nonsense!" said Franz." "And if this person be not a smuggler. "he is still more mysterious. "It is no nonsense. but I doubt if it be his real name." thought Franz. and wished to learn all he possibly could concerning his host. but she is built to stand any weather." "Where was she built?" "I know not. who is he?" "A wealthy signor. since the two accounts do not agree." Franz pondered the matter for a few moments. He turned towards the sailor." "Is it a very beautiful vessel?" "I would not wish for a better to sail round the world. "Never mind that. concluded that a man so rich could not have any intention of plundering him of what little he had." "Of what burden is she?" "About a hundred tons." replied the sailor. as no vessel of any kind was visible. he had not then spoken to any one. and he came back amazed.

I beg you will remove your bandage. Without uttering a word." said a voice. and he went on. He promised." "And where does he reside?" "On the sea. with a foreign accent." "What sort of a man is he?" "Your excellency will judge for yourself. and his guides let go their hold of him. in excellent French." "Where will he receive me?" "No doubt in the subterranean palace Gaetano told you of. after going on for a few seconds more he heard a crackling. Franz did not wait for a repetition of this permission. He was accompanied by two of the yacht's crew. and preceded by the sentinel. and presented it to the man who had spoken to him. we examined the grotto all over. evidently advancing towards that part of the shore where they would not allow Gaetano to go — a refusal he could now comprehend. yes. by a change in the atmosphere. "Welcome."Sinbad the Sailor?" "Yes. to seek for this enchanted palace?" "Oh. which he recognized as that of the sentinel. although. and knew thus that he was passing the bivouac." "Decidedly. when you have landed and found this island deserted. Presently. they bandaged his eyes with a care that showed their apprehensions of his committing some indiscretion. sir. but took off the handkerchief." "Have you ever seen him?" "Sometimes. Then his two guides took his arms. then. said. more than once. "this is an Arabian Nights' adventure. Afterwards he was made to promise that he would not make the least attempt to raise the bandage." It may be supposed." muttered Franz. and became balmy and perfumed. but a magic word." "What country does he come from?" "I do not know." "Have you never had the curiosity. but always in vain." "His excellency waits for you. he knew that they were entering a cave. guided by them. There was a moment's silence. they then led him on about fifty paces farther. After going about thirty paces. Franz drew his handkerchief from his pocket. and found himself in the presence of a 288 . and then a voice. he smelt the appetizing odor of the kid that was roasting. At length his feet touched on a thick and soft carpet. they say that the door is not opened by a key. and it seemed to him as though the atmosphere again changed. but we never could find the slightest trace of any opening.

his nose. that it seemed to pertain to one who had been long entombed. but extremely well made. and offer you what no doubt you did not expect to find here — that is to say. and a small sharp and crooked cangiar was passed through his girdle. find on my return my temporary retirement in a state of great disorder. and. and yellow slippers. leading into a second apartment which seemed to be brilliantly illuminated. while the feet rested on a Turkey carpet." replied Franz. and. during the greater portion of the year. if the secret of this abode were discovered. large and full gaiters of the same color. my dear sir. moreover. this island is deserted. in which they sunk to the instep.' and really I have 289 . not even taking his eyes off him. from the ceiling hung a lamp of Venetian glass. embroidered with gold like the vest." "Ma foi. a vest of black cloth embroidered with gold. Let me now endeavor to make you forget this temporary unpleasantness. like the men of the south. In a recess was a kind of divan. after a pause. not for the loss it occasioned me. The host gave Franz time to recover from his surprise. The entire chamber was lined with crimson brocade. returned look for look. pantaloons of deep red. for instance. was the splendor of the apartment in which he found himself. dressed in a Tunisian costume — that is to say. but because I should not have the certainty I now possess of separating myself from all the rest of mankind at pleasure. but as. surmounted with a stand of Arabian swords in silver scabbards. a tolerable supper and pretty comfortable beds. His pallor was so peculiar. which would be exceedingly annoying. tapestry hung before the door by which Franz had entered. he had a splendid cashmere round his waist. were set off to admiration by the black mustache that encircled them. his eyes were penetrating and sparkling. of beautiful shape and color. as white as pearls. I should doubtless. was of the pure Greek type. worked with flowers of gold. But what astonished Franz." he said. He was not particularly tall. while his teeth. I have always observed that they bandage people's eyes who penetrate enchanted palaces. and also in front of another door. those of Raoul in the ` from thirty-eight to forty years of age. "a thousand excuses for the precaution taken in your introduction hither. "make no apologies. and who was incapable of resuming the healthy glow and hue of life. had small hands and feet. and the handles resplendent with gems. this man had a remarkably handsome face. Although of a paleness that was almost livid. quite straight. and projecting direct from the brow. "Sir. a red cap with a long blue silk tassel. who had treated Gaetano's description as a fable.

"Now. oranges from the Balearic Isles. The dishes were of silver. As for myself. But such as is my hermitage. the table was splendidly covered. Pray observe. and dates from Tunis. The dining-room was scarcely less striking than the room he had just left. Between these large dishes were smaller ones containing various dainties. is the supper ready?" At this moment the tapestry moved aside.nothing to complain of. Franz rubbed his eyes in order to assure himself that this was not a dream. I may say with Lucullus. such as is my supper. a boar's ham with jelly. your humble servant going first to show the way?" At these words. that I see no reason why at this moment I should not be called Aladdin. with antique bas-reliefs of priceless value. 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. black as ebony. as I only require his wonderful lamp to make me precisely like Aladdin. peaches from France." replied the singular amphitryon. I only request you to give me one by which I may have the pleasure of addressing you. and a Nubian. if you will. "I do not know if you are of my opinion. Franz now looked upon another scene of enchantment. there were Sicily pine-apples. made a sign to his master that all was prepared in the dining-room. and dressed in a plain white tunic. it was entirely of marble. and a gigantic lobster. Sinbad preceded his guest. it is at your disposal. having baskets in their hands. it is yours to share. Ali.'" "And I." "Well. then." replied Franz. I would have prepared for it. for what I see makes me think of the wonders of the `Arabian Nights. "will tell you. I tell you that I am generally called `Sinbad the Sailor. pomegranates from Malaga. that I too much respect the laws of hospitality to ask your name or title. and the plates of Japanese china. a glorious turbot." said the unknown to Franz. were four magnificent statues. and acquitted himself so 290 . and once convinced of this important point he cast his eyes around him. that I may put you at your ease. and at the four corners of this apartment.'" "Alas. will you now take the trouble to enter the dining-room. The supper consisted of a roast pheasant garnished with Corsican blackbirds. moving aside the tapestry. That will keep us from going away from the East whither I am tempted to think I have been conveyed by some good genius. a quarter of a kid with tartar sauce. Signor Aladdin. if I could have anticipated the honor of your visit. These baskets contained four pyramids of most splendid fruit. "you heard our repast announced. which was oblong. Ali alone was present to wait at table.

admirably. and the head the third." Franz remained a moment silent and pensive. hardly knowing what to think of the half-kindness." answered Franz. he was so very desirous to complete the poor devil's punishment. He hesitated a moment. his eyes gave forth gleams of extraordinary ferocity. and even the life you lead. He remembers that I saved his life. they are simple enough. with which his host related the brief narrative. I made a vow at a time when I little thought I should ever be able to accomplish it. Signor Sinbad. by way of changing the conversation. — "your voice." said Franz. for whenever the coward sees the first glimpse of the shores of Africa. Sinbad started and looked fixedly at him. "Yes." replied he. but on condition that the poor fellow never again set foot in Tunis. "What makes you suppose so?" "Everything." 291 . so learning the day his tongue was cut out. and kissed it. the tongue the first day. your pallid complexion. the hand the second. I went to the bey." Ali approached his master. and proposed to give him for Ali a splendid double-barreled gun which I knew he was very desirous of having. This was a useless clause in the bargain. "You have suffered a great deal. took his hand. he feels some gratitude towards me for having kept it on his shoulders. "you pass your life in travelling?" "Yes. "to ask you the particulars of this kindness?" "Oh." said the unknown with a singular smile. while he did the honors of the supper with much ease and grace — "yes. and his hand and head cut off. the bey yielded. half-cruelty. "It seems the fellow had been caught wandering nearer to the harem of the Bey of Tunis than etiquette permits to one of his color. "And like the celebrated sailor whose name you have assumed. and can only be induced to appear again when we are out of sight of that quarter of the globe. sir?" said Franz inquiringly. that the guest complimented his host thereupon. and agreed to forgive the hand and head. your look." he said. as he replied. I always had a desire to have a mute in my service. "Would it be impertinent. and he was condemned by the bey to have his tongue cut out. he is a poor devil who is much devoted to me." Although Sinbad pronounced these words with much calmness. But when I added to the gun an English cutlass with which I had shivered his highness's yataghan to pieces. he runs down below. and as he has a regard for his head. "and I made some others also which I hope I may fulfil in due season." replied the host. and does all he can to prove it.

"but. or rather took the baskets from the hands of the statues and placed them on the table. and leave it. for your liberal hospitality displayed to me at Monte Cristo." replied Franz. and stay there. Then I have my mode of dispensing justice. I get tired of it. as ignorant of what the cup contained as he 292 . it will be. but which was perfectly unknown to him." The supper appeared to have been supplied solely for Franz. I am free as a bird and have wings like one. my attendants obey my slightest wish. "Because." "And do you propose to make this journey very shortly?" "I do not know. Ah. for the unknown scarcely touched one or two dishes of the splendid banquet to which his guest did ample justice. Such as you see me I am. for instance!" observed Franz. it depends on circumstances which depend on certain arrangements. as far as lies in my power. a sort of philosopher. "And why revenge?" he asked. I must seem to you by no means curious. Sometimes I amuse myself by delivering some bandit or criminal from the bonds of the law." replied the host. and which no one sees." "Ah. He replaced the lid. He raised the cover and saw a kind of greenish paste. The care with which Ali placed this cup on the table roused Franz's curiosity. in all probability. unfortunately." "Revenge. incognito. without respite or appeal. silent and sure." responded Sinbad. if you had tasted my life. Between the two baskets he placed a small silver cup with a silver cover." "And will that be the first time you ever took that journey?" "Yes. I am king of all creation." "I should avail myself of your offer with pleasure. you would not desire any other. the real life of a pasha. and would never return to the world unless you had some great project to accomplish there. persecuted by society. "you seem to me like a man who. I am pleased with one place. something like preserved angelica. and one day perhaps I shall go to Paris to rival Monsieur Appert. which condemns or pardons. and the little man in the blue cloak. it will."I? — I live the happiest life possible. has a fearful account to settle with it. if I go there. The unknown fixed on the young man one of those looks which penetrate into the depth of the heart and thoughts. and I will endeavor to repay you. "You have not guessed rightly. Then Ali brought on the dessert. laughing with his singular laugh which displayed his white and sharp teeth. but I assure you that it is not my fault I have delayed it so long — it will happen one day or the other." "I should like to be there at the time you come.

he inquired. and ever-lovely virgins. without regarding it. you will be king and master of all the kingdoms of the earth. and is it not an easy thing. In this valley were magnificent gardens planted by Hassen-ben-Sabah. What these happy persons took for reality 293 .was before he had looked at it. you advance free in heart." cried Sinbad. "we frequently pass so near to happiness without seeing. you know he reigned over a rich valley which was overhung by the mountain whence he derived his picturesque name." "But. and swallowed it slowly with his eyes half shut and his head bent backwards. but king of the world. yet without recognizing it. gave them to eat a certain herb. that green preserve is nothing less than the ambrosia which Hebe served at the table of Jupiter. and do you seek after the greatnesses of the earth? taste this. to tell the truth. but when he had finished. the fields of infinite space open to you. since it is only to do thus? look!" At these words he uncovered the small cup which contained the substance so lauded. is this precious stuff?" "Did you ever hear. can you?" "No." he replied. "of the Old Man of the Mountain." "Well. I really cannot. raised it to his lips. and then casting his eyes towards his host he saw him smile at his disappointment. what may you term this composition. "what there is in that small vase. free in mind. king of creation. and is gold your god? taste this. thus it is that our material origin is revealed. then. or England. — "What. "this ambrosia. or if we do see and regard it. and in these gardens isolated pavilions. and the boundaries of possibility disappear. ever-ripe fruit. I do not feel any particular desire?" "Ah. without bowing at the feet of Satan. in passing through mortal hands has lost its heavenly appellation and assumed a human name. no doubt. in the midst of ever-blooming shrubs. Are you a man of imagination — a poet? taste this. then. Into these pavilions he admitted the elect. into the boundless realms of unfettered revery." "Well. Is it not tempting what I offer you. king of the universe. Guzerat. and in an hour you will be a king. Are you a man for the substantials. which transported them to Paradise. not a king of a petty kingdom hidden in some corner of Europe like France. took a teaspoonful of the magic sweetmeat. "You cannot guess. in vulgar phrase." said he. for which. Franz did not disturb him whilst he absorbed his favorite sweetmeat. Spain. Are you ambitious. says Marco Polo. and Golconda are opened to you." replied Franz. and the mines of Peru. who attempted to assassinate Philip Augustus?" "Of course I have. and there.

" "Then. so enthralling. after having swallowed the divine preserve. truffles. you would seem to leave a Neapolitan spring for a Lapland winter — to quit paradise for earth — heaven for hell! Taste the hashish. but to dream thus forever. the man to whom there should be built a palace. When you return to this mundane sphere from your visionary world." "That is it precisely. the first time you tasted oysters. then the dream becomes life. so voluptuous. porter. which now appears to you flat and distasteful. the only man.was but a dream." said Franz. gentle or violent. the celebrated maker. only eat for a week. Tell me. and then the dream reigns supreme. "I do not know if the result will be as agreeable as you describe. Signor Aladdin — judge. but it was a dream so soft. and lift it to his mouth. about as much in quantity as his host had eaten. did you like them? Could you comprehend how the Romans stuffed their pheasants with assafoetida. tea. believing that the death they underwent was but a quick transition to that life of delights of which the holy herb. and the Chinese eat swallows' nests? Eh? no! Well. we must habituate the senses to a fresh impression." "Judge for yourself." Franz's only reply was to take a teaspoonful of the marvellous preparation. that they sold themselves body and soul to him who gave it to them. and nothing in the world will seem to you to equal the delicacy of its flavor. now before you had given them a slight foretaste. struck down the designated victim." "Because your palate his not yet been attuned to the sublimity of the substances it flavors. and sundry other dainties which you now adore." cried Franz. it is hashish — the purest and most unadulterated hashish of Alexandria.'" "Do you know. There is a struggle in nature against this divine substance. died in torture without a murmur. "I have a very great inclination to judge for myself of the truth or exaggeration of your eulogies. guest of mine — taste the hashish. that you would desire to live no longer. inscribed with these words. it is the same with hashish. Like everything else. but the thing does not appear to me as palatable as you say. But what changes occur! It is only by comparing the pains of actual being with the joys of the assumed existence. which is 294 . sad or joyous. — in nature which is not made for joy and clings to pain. `A grateful world to the dealer in happiness. Nature subdued must yield in the combat. the dream must succeed to reality. Signor Aladdin. Let us now go into the adjoining chamber. and obedient to his orders as to those of a deity. "Diable!" he said. and life becomes the dream. but do not confine yourself to one trial. "it is hashish! I know that — by name at least. — the hashish of Abou-Gor.

and fly into superhuman regions. bear-skins from Siberia. like those of Icarus. were all covered with magnificent skins as soft and downy as the richest carpets. Both laid themselves down on the divan. but not to any distance. or Ispahan. floor. with one of those singular smiles which did not escape the young man. There was a moment's silence. melt before the sun. striped tiger-skins from Bengal. "it would be the easiest thing in the world." said his host. spotted beautifully. sugar or none. into which we always sink when smoking excellent tobacco. so that it seemed like walking over the most mossy turf. and all these skins were strewn in profusion one on the other. and all prepared so that there was no need to smoke the same pipe twice. which seems to remove with its fume all the troubles of the mind." They both arose. and while he who called himself Sinbad — and whom we have occasionally named so." "Ma foi. unfurl your wings.your apartment. and if your wings. Ah. As to Franz a 295 . chibouques with jasmine tubes and amber mouthpieces were within reach. I shall go and die in the East. As for me. and to give the smoker in exchange all the visions of the soul. you must seek me at Cairo. like those that appeared to Dante." He then said something in Arabic to Ali. there were heavy-maned lion-skins from Atlas. they are the only men who know how to live. we are here to ease your fall. and so on. fear nothing. and a large divan completely encircled it. walls. who made a sign of obedience and withdrew. Ali brought in the coffee. that we might. and Franz abandoned himself to that mute revery. It was simply yet richly furnished. Divan. have some title by which to distinguish him — gave some orders to the servant. yes. like his guest. cool or boiling? As you please. Bagdad." replied Franz. Franz entered still another apartment. Well. "And you are right. "it shows you have a tendency for an Oriental life. Each of them took one." "Ah. and should you wish to see me again." said Franz. it is ready in all ways. which Ali lighted and then retired to prepare the coffee. fox-skins from Norway." "I will take it in the Turkish style. or reclining on the most luxurious bed. ceiling. "when I have completed my affairs in Paris." he added. strong or weak. "in the French or Turkish style. "How do you take it?" inquired the unknown. panther-skins from the Cape. the hashish is beginning its work. and with those wings I could make a tour of the world in four and twenty hours. those Orientals. and Ali will bring us coffee and pipes. during which Sinbad gave himself up to thoughts that seemed to occupy him incessantly. It was round. for I feel eagle's wings springing out at my shoulders. there is a watch over you. even in the midst of his conversation.

and he was again in the chamber of statues. all the preoccupation of mind which the events of the evening had brought on. rich in form. but which saints withstood. disappeared as they do at the first approach of sleep. like that which may be supposed to reign around the grotto of Circe. Messalina. They were Phryne. They were the same statues. then. those three celebrated courtesans. the enchanter. his senses seemed to redouble their power. from Sinbad. and approached the couch on which he was reposing. or Amphion. that they would have made a divine harmony had their notes been taken down. and which he had seen before he slept. but without effort. in attraction. formed from such perfumes as set the mind a dreaming. the mute attendant. Then among them glided like a pure ray. smiles of love. all the spangles of the sun. their throats bare. He descended. his singular host. one of those chaste figures. their feet hidden in their long white tunics. to Ali. Cleopatra. and such fires as burn the very senses. transparent. Then the three statues advanced towards him with looks of love. or rather seemed to descend. — he saw the Island of Monte Cristo. his perception brightened in a remarkable manner. like a Christian angel in the midst of Olympus. no longer as a threatening rock in the midst of the waves. and looks inflexible and ardent like those with which the serpent charms the bird. hair flowing like waves. several steps. the songs became louder. and he entered the grotto amidst continued strains of most delicious melody.strange transformation had taken place in him. and bright and flowing hair. and poesy. All the bodily fatigue of the day. unbounded horizon. when we are still sufficiently conscious to be aware of the coming of slumber. and assuming attitudes which the gods could not resist. like the last shadows of the magic lantern before it is extinguished. but as an oasis in the desert. but it was not the gloomy horizon of vague alarms. as lips touch lips. the horizon continued to expand. those calm shadows. without shock. then. with all the blue of the ocean. for an enchanting and mysterious harmony rose to heaven. inhaling the fresh and balmy air. intended there to build a city. which seemed to veil its virgin brow before these marble wantons. in the midst of the songs of his sailors. but a blue. with eyes of fascination. lighted only by one of those pale and antique lamps which watch in the dead of the night over the sleep of pleasure. those soft visions. — songs so clear and sonorous. all the perfumes of the summer breeze. as if some Loreley had decreed to attract a soul thither. and then 296 . At length the boat touched the shore. as his boat drew nearer. then all seemed to fade away and become confused before his eyes. His body seemed to acquire an airy lightness. and he saw again all he had seen before his sleep.

and at length. It seemed to Franz that he closed his eyes. weary of a struggle that taxed his very soul. and he was held in cool serpent-like embraces. breasts of ice became like heated lava. and in a last look about him saw the vision of modesty completely veiled. and the enchantment of his marvellous dream. so that to Franz. 297 . love was a sorrow and voluptuousness a torture. and then followed a dream of passion like that promised by the Prophet to the elect.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. as burning mouths were pressed to his thirsty lips. yielding for the first time to the sway of the drug. he gave way and sank back breathless and exhausted beneath the kisses of these marble goddesses. Lips of stone turned to flame.

they had vanished at his waking. Thus every now and then he saw in fancy amid the sailors. When Franz returned to himself. and his body refreshed. or undulating in the vessel. specially after a fantastic dream. so deep was the impression made in his mind by the dream. on the contrary. The vision had fled. he was free from the slightest headache. that at least a year had elapsed since all these things had passed. even in the very face of open day. chatting and laughing. a faculty 298 . The air and water were shining in the beams of the morning sun. reminded him of the illusiveness of his vision. It seemed. and listened to the dash of the waves on the beach. He stretched forth his hand. There for some time he enjoyed the fresh breeze which played on his brow. he felt a certain degree of lightness. that left against the rocks a lace of foam as white as silver. He advanced several paces towards the point whence the light came. and so strong a hold had it taken of his imagination. he rose to his seat. so pure. He thought himself in a sepulchre. so grand. He recalled his arrival on the island. and touched stone. seated on a rock. and a spoonful of hashish. his presentation to a smuggler chief. one of the shadows which had shared his dream with looks and kisses. on the shore the sailors were sitting. he seemed still to be in a dream. He found that he was in a grotto. very soft and odoriferous. then gradually this view of the outer world. and through a kind of fanlight saw a blue sea and an azure sky. however. and found himself lying on his bournous in a bed of dry heather. went towards the opening. an excellent supper.Chapter 32 The Waking. Otherwise. He was for some time without reflection or thought for the divine charm which is in the things of nature. a subterranean palace full of splendor. undulating gracefully on the water. into which a ray of sunlight in pity scarcely penetrated. and to all the excitement of his dream succeeded the calmness of reality. and once more awakened memory. so calm. his head was perfectly clear. and as if the statues had been but shadows from the tomb. and at ten yards from them the boat was at anchor.

for absorbing the pure air. "and give it to his excellency. and I will get you the torch you ask for." Giovanni obeyed. Gaetano was not mistaken." replied the patron. But I too have had the idea you have. After a second. and waved his pocket-handkerchief to his guest in token of adieu. but I have always given it up. and holding a spyglass in his hand. your excellency. "What are your excellency's orders?" inquired Gaetano. Franz returned the salute by shaking his handkerchief as an exchange of signals. "he is bidding you adieu." "Ah. He recognized the place where he had awaked by the bed of heather that was there. and entered the subterranean grotto. With much pleasure. but without any idea that the noise could be heard at the distance which separated the yacht from the shore. "this is." said Franz. all reality. "to find the entrance to the enchanted apartment. followed by Gaetano. who rose as soon as they perceived him. At the stern the mysterious stranger was standing up looking towards the shore. and then Franz heard a slight report. said. Giovanni. and directed it towards the yacht. which rose gracefully as it expanded in the air. light a torch." The young man took his carbine and fired it in the air. and two or three times the same fancy has come over me. Franz took the lamp. a slight cloud of smoke was seen at the stern of the vessel. "The Signor Sinbad has left his compliments for your excellency. and his departed while I was asleep?" "He exists as certainly as that you may see his small yacht with all her sails spread. He was attired as he had been on the previous evening. like him. entertained me right royally. Franz adjusted his telescope. by traces of smoke. and the patron. "In the first place. then. there exists a man who has received me in this island. Gaetano pointed in a direction in which a small vessel was making sail towards the southern point of Corsica. but he trusts you will excuse him. and desires us to express the regret he feels at not being able to take his leave in person. accosting him. but it was in vain that he carried his torch all round the exterior surface of the grotto. unless that. then. recognize your host in the midst of his crew. as very important business calls him to Malaga." he added. in vain. and if you will use your glass. light me a torch. you will. "There. and enjoying the bright sunshine more vividly than ever. others had before him attempted the same thing. yes. do you hear?" observed Gaetano. I understand. He went gayly up to the sailors." "So." So saying. Gaetano. Yet he did not leave a foot of 299 . in all probability. He saw nothing. if it would amuse you. and.

"And what cares he for that. rather than enjoying a pleasure. why. and began to hunt over the island with the air of a man who is fulfilling a duty." and he was irresistibly attracted towards the grotto. which were at last utterly useless. while it seems he is in the direction of Porto-Vecchio." added Franz." said the patron. The second visit was a long one. the evening before." he remarked to Gaetano. and if he were to throw himself on the coast. At the end of this time he gave up his search." said Franz.this granite wall." replied Gaetano. now like a sea-gull on the wave. the yacht only seemed like a small white speck on the horizon." replied Gaetano with a laugh. and he saw the little yacht. he began a second. which he had utterly forgotten. Since. Gaetano reminded him that he had come for the purpose of shooting goats. in the first place. and at the end of a quarter of an hour he had killed a goat and two kids. he had really been the hero of one of the tales of the "Thousand and One Nights." "But such services as these might involve him with the authorities of the country in which he practices this kind of philanthropy." "Don't you remember. or a projecting point on which he did not lean and press in the hopes it would give way. "or any authorities? He smiles at them. He took his fowling-piece. He looked again through his glass. "Precisely so. he is one who fears neither God nor Satan. These animals. and he is going to land them. "I told you that among the crew there were two Corsican brigands?" "True. "Ah. Franz was sitting on the spot where he was on the previous evening when his mysterious host had invited him to supper. they say. without strict scrutiny. other ideas. much more enthralling. Then. but a bird. is he not certain of finding friends everywhere?" 300 . Let them try to pursue him! Why. though wild and agile as chamois. "Why. and Gaetano smiled. after having told Gaetano to roast one of the two kids. he did not see a fissure without introducing the blade of his hunting sword into it. in spite of the failure of his first search. Moreover. but even then he could not distinguish anything. and he would beat any frigate three knots in every nine. occupied his mind. and would at any time run fifty leagues out of his course to do a poor devil a service. "you told me that Signor Sinbad was going to Malaga. his yacht is not a ship. were too much like domestic goats. continuing her flight towards Corsica. All was vain. and when he returned the kid was roasted and the repast ready. as impenetrable as futurity. and Franz could not consider them as game. and he lost two hours in his attempts. When Franz appeared again on the shore.

excusing himself for having made his excellency wait. All the rest of the year the city is in that state of dull apathy. and asked for Albert de Morcerf. which renders it similar to a kind of station between this world and the next — a sublime spot. and thus he had but to go to Signor Pastrini's hotel. he forgot. The two rooms looked onto the street — a fact which Signor Pastrini commented 301 . As to Franz. and at which Franz had already halted five or six times. This plan succeeded. they had lost sight of Monte Cristo. when Morcerf himself appeared. he hastened on board. and on the Saturday evening reached the Eternal City by the mail-coach. and they were soon under way. Holy Week. had the honor of being on excellent terms with the smugglers and bandits along the whole coast of the Mediterranean. for the moment at least. hashish. which was continually increasing and getting more and more turbulent. he consequently despatched his breakfast. when the sun rose. and Rome was already a prey to that low and feverish murmur which precedes all great events. Peter. the events which had just passed. He set out. scolding the waiters. Sinbad. and at each time found it more marvellous and striking. and at Rome there are four great events in every year. a resting-place full of poetry and character. as we have said. that there was no room for him at the Hotel de Londres. between life and death. Corpus Christi. and so enjoyed exceptional privileges. Then he sent his card to Signor Pastrini. He had lost all hope of detecting the secret of the grotto. with the impertinence peculiar to hired hackneycoachmen and inn-keepers with their houses full. At the moment the boat began her course they lost sight of the yacht. — all became a dream for Franz. who was ready to pounce on the traveller and was about to lead him to Albert. An apartment. The apartment consisted of two small rooms and a parlor. had been retained beforehand. and Signor Pastrini himself ran to him.It was perfectly clear that the Signor Sinbad. his boat being ready. he had no longer any inducement to remain at Monte Cristo. The boat sailed on all day and all night. At last he made his way through the mob. and reached the hotel. while he finished his affairs of pleasure at Florence. and then thought of nothing but how he should rejoin his companion. as it disappeared in the gulf of Porto-Vecchio. and the Feast of St. taking the candlestick from the porter. Franz's host. — the Carnival. and. and next morning. and then supper. statues. for the streets were thronged with people. When Franz had once again set foot on shore. who was awaiting him at Rome. But this was not so easy a matter. With it was effaced the last trace of the preceding night. On his first inquiry he was told.

"Be easy. but as for the carriage" — "What as to the carriage?" exclaimed Albert. let us sup." replied the landlord. "To-morrow morning." "As to supper. supped. we must have a carriage. "Do you understand that. they will come in due season. no joking. my dear boy." "Then they must put horses to mine." "What are we to say to this?" asked Franz. went to bed. "Come. that's all. then. and thirty or thirty-five lire a day more for Sundays and feast days. "Very good." "But the carriage and horses?" said Franz. my dear Franz — no horses?" he said. I am accustomed not to dwell on that thing. but that's no matter." Morcerf then. and a carriage for tomorrow and the following days." "I am afraid if we offer them double that we shall not procure a carriage." Albert looked at Franz like a man who hears a reply he does not understand. your excellency. Signor Pastrini?" "Yes. "but we must have some supper instantly. Signor Pastrini. add five lire a day more for extras. that will make forty. slept soundly. Is supper ready. "Oh. it is only a question of how much shall be charged for them. that when a thing completely surpasses my comprehension. It is a little worse for the journey." said Franz. I see plainly enough. and 302 . and there's an end of it." "There are no horses." answered the inn-keeper. with that delighted philosophy which believes that nothing is impossible to a full purse or well-lined pocketbook.upon as an inappreciable advantage. "you shall be served immediately. but to pass to another. "but can't we have post-horses?" "They have been all hired this fortnight." "Well. The rest of the floor was hired by a very rich gentleman who was supposed to be a Sicilian or Maltese. and there are none left but those absolutely requisite for posting. "I say. but the host was unable to decide to which of the two nations the traveller belonged." replied the host." "Sir. come." "And when shall we know?" inquired Franz. the deuce! then we shall pay the more. signor Pastrini. At Drake's or Aaron's one pays twenty-five lire for common days. "we will do all in our power to procure you one — this is all I can say.

dreamed he was racing all over Rome at Carnival time in a coach with six horses. 303 .

" "Well. and that has been let to a Russian prince for twenty sequins a day. "Well. "Well." replied Pastrini. and instantly rang the bell. who was desirous of keeping up the dignity of the capital of the Christian world in the eyes of his guest. "which will make it still more difficult." said Morcerf. "I feared yesterday." "Ah. "do you know what is the best thing we can do? It is to pass the Carnival at Venice. "let us enjoy the present without gloomy forebodings for the future. when I would not promise you anything." said Franz to Albert." returned Franz." said the landlord triumphantly. — "utterly impossible." "At least we can have a window?" "Where?" "In the Corso. a window!" exclaimed Signor Pastrini." returned Franz. that is something. for the last three days of the carnival." 304 . "you have guessed it. "to-day is Thursday. "that there are no carriages to be had from Sunday to Tuesday evening." "That is to say." said Albert. and without waiting for Franz to question him. "for the very three days it is most needed." replied Franz." "Ah. "no carriage to be had?" "Just so. entering. The sound had not yet died away when Signor Pastrini himself entered." "Yes. there we are sure of obtaining gondolas if we cannot have carriages. and who knows what may arrive between this and Sunday?" "Ten or twelve thousand travellers will arrive." "What is the matter?" said Albert. The next morning Franz woke first. that you were too late — there is not a single carriage to be had — that is." The two young men looked at each other with an air of stupefaction. your Eternal City is a nice sort of place." "My friend. excellency. but from now till Sunday you can have fifty if you please. there was only one left on the fifth floor of the Doria Palace.Chapter 33 Roman Bandits. excellency.

like lawyer's clerks?" "I hasten to comply with your excellencies' wishes. "I will do all I can." "Do your excellencies still wish for a carriage from now to Sunday morning?" "Parbleu!" said Albert. who has plundered me pretty well already. he is an old friend of mine. but." returned Franz." "And now we understand each other. and we shall have complete success." said Franz. We will disguise ourselves as monster pulchinellos or shepherds of the Landes. and the day after. we will give you twelve piastres for to-day. he will take a less price than the one I offer you. who is mine also." The genius for laudation characteristic of the race was in that phrase. like the gentleman in the next apartments. and. the devil. that as I have been four times before at Rome." returned Signor Pastrini. "shall I bring the carriage nearer to the palace?" Accustomed as Franz was to the Italian phraseology." cried the cicerone. no. "Excellency." the vehicle was the "carriage." cried Albert. seeing Franz approach the window. "I warn you." "But." An hour after the vehicle was at the door." "Do not give yourselves the trouble. the young men would have thought themselves happy to have secured it for the last three days of the Carnival. Franz was the "excellency. and I will. his first impulse was to look round him. and that will be your fault. I tell you beforehand. still striving to gain his point. only. and I hope you will be satisfied." "When do you wish the carriage to be here?" "In an hour. but these words were addressed to him. in spite of its humble exterior. the carriage will cost you six piastres a day. "I came to Rome to see the Carnival. excellency. 305 . and then you will make a good profit." "And. in the hope of making more out of me. "Now go."Ah. as I am not a millionaire." "In an hour it will be at the door. though I see it on stilts. tomorrow. with the smile peculiar to the Italian speculator when he confesses defeat. I know the prices of all the carriages." "Bravo! an excellent idea. "do you think we are going to run about on foot in the streets of Rome. "or I shall go myself and bargain with your affettatore." and the Hotel de Londres was the "palace. you will lose the preference. excellency" — said Pastrini. it was a hack conveyance which was elevated to the rank of a private carriage in honor of the occasion.

Suddenly the daylight began to fade away. Signor Pastrini remained silent a short time. "only madmen. he gave them a tolerable repast. the cicerone sprang into the seat behind. I do not understand why they travel. it was evident that he was musing over this answer. their walk on the Boulevard de Gand. there is an end of it. the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina." said Albert. we feel the same pride as when we point out a woman whose lover we have been. "To Saint Peter's first. and the Via Sacra. skirt the outer wall.Franz and Albert descended. or blockheads like us." "It is much more convenient at Paris. "Where do your excellencies wish to go?" asked he. when you are told anything cannot he done. Franz thought that he came to hear his dinner praised. "I am delighted to have your approbation. and re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni. but it was not for that I came." 306 . They sat down to dinner. ever do travel. lighting his cigar. and your excellencies will do well not to think of that any longer. emitting a volume of smoke and balancing his chair on its hind legs. the carriage approached the palace. and it is done directly. Signor Pastrini had promised them a banquet. appeared every day on the fashionable walk. the Forum." "But. — when anything cannot be done. which did not seem very clear. at the door Franz ordered the coachman to be ready at eight. He was to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo." said Pastrini. their excellencies stretched their legs along the seats. The day was passed at Saint Peter's alone. He wished to show Albert the Colosseum by moonlight." "Did you come to tell us you have procured a carriage?" asked Albert. and the Cafe de Paris. and a month to study it. Men in their senses do not quit their hotel in the Rue du Helder. somewhat piqued. and dined frequently at the only restaurant where you can really dine. you pay double. thus they would behold the Colosseum without finding their impressions dulled by first looking on the Capitol. At the end of the dinner he entered in person. "Excellency. as he had shown him Saint Peter's by daylight. and then to the Colosseum. and began accordingly. They returned to the hotel. "for that reason. but at the first words he was interrupted. But Albert did not know that it takes a day to see Saint Peter's." "That is what all the French say. "But." It is of course understood that Albert resided in the aforesaid street. When we show a friend a city one has already visited." returned Signor Pastrini. that is. if you are on good terms with its frequenters. Franz took out his watch — it was half-past four." returned Albert. at Rome things can or cannot be done. "No. the Arch of Septimus Severus.

" "But if your excellency doubt my veracity" — "Signor Pastrini. You have told your coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo. while you. to say the least. at 307 ." "You have never heard his name?" "Never. — he had had a great many Frenchmen in his house. who may this famous Luigi Vampa be?" inquired Albert." said he gravely. Signor Pastrini. — but I will believe all you say. and yet no one believed her." "Pray. and re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni?" "These are my words exactly. begin. having told you this. it is useless for me to say anything. but had never been able to comprehend them. compared to whom the Decesaris and the Gasparones were mere children. in his turn interrupting his host's meditations. this route is impossible." "Now then. "you are more susceptible than Cassandra. go on." "What! do you not know him?" "I have not that honor. who was a prophetess. "if you look upon me as a liar. "you had some motive for coming here. then. he is a bandit. "he may be very famous at Rome." "You intend visiting Il Colosseo. addressing Franz." "Once upon a time" — "Well." "Well. we must do him justice." Signor Pastrini turned toward Franz. so proceed. "but that he will not believe what you are going to tell us. it was for your interest I" — "Albert does not say you are a liar." returned Franz. may I beg to know what it was?" "Ah. who seemed to him the more reasonable of the two." "I forewarn you." said Franz. "here is a bandit for you at last." cried Franz. to drive round the walls.said Franz." "Dangerous! — and why?" "On account of the famous Luigi Vampa. that I shall not believe one word of what you are going to tell us." "Impossible!" "Very dangerous." "Well. yes. Signor Pastrini. but I can assure you he is quite unknown at Paris. you have ordered your carriage at eight o'clock precisely?" "I have. Albert. "Excellency." "You mean the Colosseum?" "It is the same thing.

and present him to his holiness the Pope." said Albert." "Do you know. turning to Franz. we will fill our carriage with pistols." "On your honor is that true?" cried Albert. "Your excellency knows that it is not customary to defend yourself when attacked by bandits. "Because. Signor Pastrini." said Albert." "Well. lighting a second cigar at the first. and that it seems to be due to an arrangement of their own. blunderbusses. "And pray. "that this practice is very convenient for bandits." "Why?" asked Franz.least. and then he spoke to Franz. "here is an admirable adventure. "Count. for at Terracina I was plundered even of my hunting-knife." replied Signor Pastrini." Whilst Albert proposed this scheme. and doubtless the Roman people will crown us at the Capitol. hurt at Albert's repeated doubts of the truth of his assertions. Luigi Vampa comes to take us. what has this bandit to do with the order I have given the coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo. like Curtius and the veiled Horatius. as the only one likely to listen with attention. Signor Pastrini's face assumed an expression impossible to describe. "not make any resistance!" 308 . then we merely ask for a carriage and a pair of horses. whose courage revolted at the idea of being plundered tamely. and other deadly weapons with which you intend filling the carriage?" "Not out of my armory. and tell us all about this Signor Vampa. but I very much doubt your returning by the other. and double-barrelled guns." Doubtless Signor Pastrini found this pleasantry compromising. and knows. "that you will go out by one." returned Signor Pastrini. too." "What!" cried Albert. and we see the Carnival in the carriage." "My dear fellow. you are not safe fifty yards from the gates. who knows Rome. and we take him — we bring him back to Rome. after nightfall. "I do not say this to you. for he only answered half the question. are sure of the credence of half your audience. but to your companion. blunderbusses." asked Franz. and to re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni?" "This. "where are these pistols." "I had told your excellency he is the most famous bandit we have had since the days of Mastrilla. sit down. the preservers of their country. who asks how he can repay so great a service. that these things are not to be laughed at. Come. and proclaim us." "I shared the same fate at Aquapendente.

for it would be useless. the safety of Rome was concerned.' of Corneille. but made me a present of a very splendid watch. as for us." said he. after having made each of them a respectful bow. he. bearing the name of its maker. and level their pieces at you?" "Eh. What could you do against a dozen bandits who spring out of some pit. we may recognize him. parbleu! — they should kill me. "You tell me. "Here it is. — he will gain himself a reputation. and it would be ridiculous to risk our lives for so foolish a motive.000 francs. to remain standing!" The host sat down. and set me free. it is only to gratify a whim. which he sipped at intervals. Is he a shepherd or a nobleman? — young or old? — tall or short? Describe him. motioning Signor Pastrini to seat himself. tell me who is this Luigi Vampa. "Your friend is decidedly mad. which meant that he was ready to tell them all they wished to know concerning Luigi Vampa. Signor Pastrini drew from his fob a magnificent Breguet. for I knew him when he was a child."No. going from Ferentino to Alatri. "your answer is sublime. at the moment Signor Pastrini was about to open his mouth. "I compliment you on it. or aqueduct." said Franz. in order that." "You could not apply to any one better able to inform you on all these points." 309 ." Albert poured himself out a glass of lacryma Christi." returned Franz. and related his history to me." "Let us hear the history. and a count's coronet." The inn-keeper turned to Franz with an air that seemed to say. ruin. and worthy the `Let him die." returned Albert. like Bugaboo John or Lara. recollected me. "that you knew Luigi Vampa when he was a child — he is still a young man. only." said Franz." "My dear Albert. and one day that I fell into his hands. of Parisian manufacture. "you are not a preacher. Signor Pastrini. "Peste. "Pardieu!" cried Albert. not only without ransom. then?" "A young man? he is only two and twenty. "Well. "now that my companion is quieted. muttering some unintelligible words. but." "Let us see the watch. and you have seen how peaceful my intentions are. I have its fellow" — he took his watch from his waistcoat pocket — "and it cost me 3." said Franz." said Albert. fortunately for me. when Horace made that answer. if we meet him by chance. "Your excellencies permit it?" asked the host.

Alexander. The same evening. "Go on. who have all made some noise in the world. One day." said Albert. Every day Luigi led his flock to graze on the road that leads from Palestrina to Borgo. The priest had a writing teacher at Rome make three alphabets — one large. and lived by the wool and the milk. The curate. and a penknife. having no other name. at nine o'clock in the morning. it was somewhat difficult. the little Vampa displayed a most extraordinary precocity. and pointed out to him that by the help of a sharp instrument he could trace the letters on a slate. and one small. The child accepted joyfully." continued Franz. but the good curate went every day to say mass at a little hamlet too poor to pay a priest and which. heated and sharpened it. and that then he would give him a lesson. When quite a child. This was not enough — he must now learn to write." returned the host. when he was seven years old. and the little shepherd took his lesson out of the priest's breviary. with a bow. the little Luigi hastened to the smith at Palestrina. made him a present of pens. he was born at Pampinara. was called Borgo. "To what class of society does he belong?" "He was a shepherd-boy attached to the farm of the Count of SanFelice."What do you think of that. and asked to be taught to read. and thus learn to write. paper. Signor Pastrini. for he could not quit his flock. astonished at his quickness and intelligence. pointing to Albert. At the end of three months he had learned to write. he came to the curate of Palestrina. were quite behind him. and entered the count's service when he was five years old. when the flock was safe at the farm." continued Franz." "So. and Napoleon. Albert? — at two and twenty to be thus famous?" "Yes. which he sold at Rome. and that he must profit as much as possible by it. one middling. This 310 . At the end of three months he had learned to read. Caesar. and formed a sort of stylus. "the hero of this history is only two and twenty?" "Scarcely so much. smiling at his friend's susceptibility." "Is he tall or short?" "Of the middle height — about the same stature as his excellency. "Thanks for the comparison. every day. he told Luigi that he might meet him on his return. who owned a small flock. and at his age. his father was also a shepherd. The next morning he gathered an armful of pieces of slate and began. took a large nail. warning him that it would be short. situated between Palestrina and the lake of Gabri. the priest and the boy sat down on a bank by the wayside.

and conversed together. thanks to her friend's generosity. Then. he was given to alternating fits of sadness and enthusiasm. or governor of a province. Thus. which yielded beneath the hand of a woman. had commenced. but nothing compared to the first. the famous sculptor. it was thus that Pinelli. Beside his taste for the fine arts. and which beneath the hand of a man might have broken. promising to meet the next morning. with his knife. passing all their time with each other. and thus they grew up together. and their conversations. this impetuous character. With this. they separated 311 . when they had thus passed the day in building castles in the air. like Giotto. were expended in ear-rings. and giving themselves up to the wild ideas of their different characters. let their flocks mingle together. The next day they kept their word. He applied his imitative powers to everything. played. and always sarcastic. sat down near each other. a word. in the evening they separated the Count of San-Felice's flock from those of Baron Cervetri. Palestrina. The two children grew up together. and trees. born at Valmontone and was named Teresa. "A girl of six or seven — that is. The two piastres that Luigi received every month from the Count of San-Felice's steward. who sent for the little shepherd. Teresa was lively and gay. And yet their natural disposition revealed itself. Luigi purchased books and pencils. superbly attired. which Luigi had carried as far as he could in his solitude. ordered his attendant to let him eat with the domestics. laughed. and Teresa eleven. The curate related the incident to the Count of San-Felice. at the end of a week he wrote as well with this pen as with the stylus. houses. when young. a gesture. Vampa saw himself the captain of a vessel. Vampa was twelve. but could never have been bended. a little younger than Vampa — tended sheep on a farm near Palestrina. and attended by a train of liveried domestics. he drew on his slate sheep. their wishes.demanded new effort. and the children returned to their respective farms. in all their dreams. The two children met. general of an army. Teresa was the most beautiful and the best-attired peasant near Rome. or Valmontone had been able to gain any influence over him or even to become his companion. was often angry and capricious. he began to carve all sorts of objects in wood. So that. His disposition (always inclined to exact concessions rather than to make them) kept him aloof from all friendships. Teresa saw herself rich. None of the lads of Pampinara. and the price of all the little carvings in wood he sold at Rome. she was an orphan. necklaces. Teresa alone ruled by a look. and to give him two piastres a month. Then. and gold hairpins. made him read and write before him. but coquettish to excess. and.

Proud of this exploit. "One evening a wolf emerged from a pine-wood hear which they were usually stationed. the eagle that soared above their heads: and thus he soon became so expert. the first desire of a manly heart is to possess a weapon.their flocks. For a long time a gun had been the young man's greatest ambition. he purchased powder and ball. And yet the two young people had never declared their affection. and prowl around his flock. because it was known that she was beloved by Vampa. but the wolf had scarcely advanced ten yards ere he was dead. by rendering its owner terrible. and although Teresa was universally allowed to be the most beautiful girl of the Sabines. Only their wish to see each other had become a necessity. and the most courageous contadino for ten leagues around. and Vampa seventeen. often makes him feared. and. The steward gave him a gun. This gun had an excellent barrel. About this 312 . had he chosen to sell it. and carried him to the farm. The man of superior abilities always finds admirers. calculated what change it would require to adapt the gun to his shoulder. but one day the count broke the stock. they had grown together like two trees whose roots are mingled. that grew on the Sabine mountains. which at once renders him capable of defence or attack. with as much accuracy as if he placed it by hand. and had then cast the gun aside. This. the strongest. this was what Vampa longed for. so beautifully carved that it would have fetched fifteen or twenty piastres. was nothing to a sculptor like Vampa. Vampa took the dead animal on his shoulders. and carrying a ball with the precision of an English rifle. "One day the young shepherd told the count's steward that he had seen a wolf come out of the Sabine mountains. no one had ever spoken to her of love. and descended from the elevation of their dreams to the reality of their humble position. the fox. made at Breschia. and everything served him for a mark — the trunk of some old and moss-grown olive-tree. however. go where he will. and amused herself by watching him direct the ball wherever he pleased. and made a fresh stock. whose branches intertwined. that Teresa overcame the terror she at first felt at the report. He was spoken of as the most adroit. Teresa was sixteen. These exploits had gained Luigi considerable reputation. and they would have preferred death to a day's separation. In every country where independence has taken the place of liberty. he examined the broken stock. From this moment Vampa devoted all his leisure time to perfecting himself in the use of his precious weapon. and whose intermingled perfume rises to the heavens. as he quitted his earth on some marauding excursion. But nothing could be farther from his thoughts.

and as he had saved his life by shooting a dragoon who was about to cut him down. Carlini besought his chief to make an exception in Rita's favor. When their parents are sufficiently rich to pay a ransom. After some time Cucumetto became the object of universal attention. Cucumetto seemed to yield to his friend's entreaties. The bandit's laws are positive. seated at the foot of a huge pine that stood in the centre of the forest. the poor girl extended her arms to him. a messenger is sent to negotiate. but it was soon known that they had joined Cucumetto. However. and she is abandoned to their brutality until death relieves her sufferings. When she recognized her lover. as he was a favorite with Cucumetto. as her father was rich. for he but too well knew the fate that awaited her. by accident. "It so happened that night that Cucumetto had sent Carlini to a village. and could pay a large ransom. the prisoner is irrevocably lost. and had taken refuge on the banks of the Amasine between Sonnino and Juperno. Many young men of Palestrina. One day he carried off a young girl. the prisoner is hostage for the security of the messenger. where he had carried on a regular war. like Manfred. their promises of mutual fidelity. made a veil of her picturesque head-dress to hide her face from the lascivious gaze of the bandits. The young girl's lover was in Cucumetto's troop. Cucumetto had been there. a band of brigands that had established itself in the Lepini mountains began to be much spoken of. Sometimes a chief is wanted. should the ransom be refused. and had carried the maiden off. a young girl belongs first to him who carries her off.time. the daughter of a surveyor of Frosinone. so that he had been unable to go to the place of meeting. and Pampinara had disappeared. but when a chief presents himself he rarely has to wait long for a band of followers. pursued in the Abruzzo. but Carlini felt his heart sink. had crossed the Garigliano. the most extraordinary traits of ferocious daring and brutality were related of him. while the young girl. as he had for three years faithfully served him. however. as he said. and how every night. Their disappearance at first caused much disquietude. The brigands have never been really extirpated from the neighborhood of Rome. and bade him find a shepherd to send to 313 . He strove to collect a band of followers. he hoped the chief would have pity on him. and believed herself safe. He took Cucumetto one side. driven out of the kingdom of Naples. since he had been near. "The celebrated Cucumetto. then the rest draw lots for her. they had met in some neighboring ruins. Frascati. and followed the footsteps of Decesaris and Gasperone. his name was Carlini. There he told the chief all — his affection for the prisoner. whom he hoped to surpass.

to ask for an exception?' — `It is true.' continued Cucumetto. A cold perspiration burst from every pore. "`Well. `sooner or later your turn will come. until nine the next morning. supping off the provisions exacted as contributions from the peasants. which had grasped one of the pistols in his belt. The instant the letter was written.' returned Carlini. Twelve hours' delay was all that was granted — that is. broke it across the face of him who presented it. a pistol in each hand. to inform him what had occurred. After a hundred yards he turned the corner of the thicket. in the meantime. as I am not egotistical. and was answered by a burst of laughter. 314 . and does credit to your taste.Rita's father at Frosinone. "`Why should an exception be made in her favor?' "`I thought that my entreaties' — "`What right have you. One of the bandits rose. The moon lighted the group. captain. and rushed towards the spot whence the cry came.' Carlini's teeth clinched convulsively. and announce the joyful intelligence. He repeated his question. to abandon her to the common law?" said Carlini. this young girl is charming. and offered him a glass filled with Orvietto. any more than the rest. and bidding her write to her father. anxious to see his mistress. his hand. Carlini returned. He found a young shepherd watching his flock. Carlini seized it.' — `It is well. Rita lay between them. The boy undertook the commission. promising to be in Frosinone in less than an hour. and that her ransom was fixed at three hundred piastres. The two brigands looked at each other for a moment — the one with a smile of lasciviousness on his lips. `have you executed your commission?' "`Yes. The natural messengers of the bandits are the shepherds who live between the city and the mountains. we will have a merry night. then. A terrible battle between the two men seemed imminent. but his eye vainly sought Rita and Cucumetto among them. telling her she was saved. Now. saying. the other with the pallor of death on his brow.' said Cucumetto. At the sight of Carlini. he found Rita senseless in the arms of Cucumetto. laughing.' — `But never mind. and his hair stood on end.' At this moment Carlini heard a woman's cry. but by degrees Carlini's features relaxed. we will return to our comrades and draw lots for her. Carlini flew joyfully to Rita. `To the health of the brave Cucumetto and the fair Rita. He inquired where they were. and hastened to the plain to find a messenger. fell to his side. Cucumetto rose. `At nine o'clock to-morrow Rita's father will be here with the money. He found the troop in the glade. between civilized and savage life.' — `You have determined. he divined the truth. seized the glass.

`just now Carlini would not drink your health when I proposed it to him. when they saw the chief. The bandits looked on with astonishment at this singular conduct until they heard footsteps. A large wound. They turned round. As they entered the circle. he feared lest he should strike him unawares. Diavolaccio advanced amidst the most profound silence. while Diavolaccio disappeared. The eyes of all shone fiercely as they made their demand. but this mattered little to him now Rita had been his. He was the man who had proposed to Carlini the health of their chief. for. without losing sight of Carlini. were placed in a hat. then. `Captain. `my expedition has given me an appetite. and the chief inclined his head in sign of acquiescence. He continued to follow the path to the glade. and as for the money. seeing himself thus favored by fortune."`Now.' Every one expected an explosion on Carlini's part. The names of all. Diovalaccio.' said he calmly. the bandits could perceive. who remained seated. Carlini arrived almost as soon as himself. and he drank it off. the unearthly pallor of the young girl and of Diavolaccio. he took a glass in one hand and a flask in the other. without his hand trembling in the least. by the firelight. `Let us draw lots! let us draw lots!' cried all the brigands. and her long hair swept the ground. propose mine to him. `are you coming?' — `I follow you. Then sitting down by the fire. with the exception of Carlini. to his great surprise. but nothing betrayed a hostile design on Carlini's part. but to their great surprise.' said Cucumetto. and the youngest of the band drew forth a ticket.' "Cucumetto departed. his arms folded. Her head hung back. and laid Rita at the captain's feet. `that is acting like a good fellow. Diavolaccio. He was standing. extending from the temple to the mouth. was bleeding profusely. Carlini ate and drank as if nothing had happened.' — `Well done. `My supper. Then every one could 315 . and filling it. and to whom Carlini replied by breaking the glass across his face. including Carlini. that every one rose. and saw Diavolaccio bearing the young girl in his arms. Carlini!' cried the brigands. advancing towards the other bandits. near Rita. and ate and drank calmly. Cucumetto fancied for a moment the young man was about to take her in his arms and fly. and the red light of the fire made them look like demons. doubtless. This apparition was so strange and so solemn. who was still insensible. "Their demand was fair. three hundred piastres distributed among the band was so small a sum that he cared little about it. the ticket bore the name of Diovolaccio. — `Your health. but. burst into a loud laugh.' said he.' and they all formed a circle round the fire. and let us see if he will be more condescending to you than to me.' said he.

and lighted up the face of the dead. her head resting on the knees of a man. A knife was plunged up to the hilt in Rita's left breast.' All savage natures appreciate a desperate deed. he held it out to the old man with one hand. have done the same. `here are three hundred piastres. The old man obeyed. The old man remained motionless. and the forms of two persons became visible to the old man's eyes.' Carlini raised her in his arms. Every one looked at Carlini. but they all understood what Carlini had done. his hand on the butt of one of his pistols. my son.' cried Carlini. Cucumetto stopped at last. `I loved her. No other of the bandits would. Cucumetto placed his sentinels for the night. therefore I slew her. `I now understand why Carlini stayed behind. `she is thine. At midnight the sentinel gave the alarm. — `Cucumetto had violated thy daughter. A woman lay on the ground. `if I have done wrongly.understand the cause of the unearthly pallor in the young girl and the bandit. But the chief. made a sign to him to follow. sobbing like a child. `what hast thou done?' and he gazed with terror on Rita. into the arms of his 316 . and carried her out of the circle of firelight. and pointed to two persons grouped at the foot of a tree. perhaps. the woman's face became visible. a knife buried in her bosom.' and he returned to his companions. rising in his turn.' said the chief. he will tell thee what has become of her. `Here. and approaching the corpse. who brought his daughter's ransom in person. `I expected thee. — `Thou hast done well!' returned the old man in a hoarse voice. to Cucumetto.' Carlini threw himself. without taking the money. and grew pale as death. At length he advanced toward the group. The old man recognized his child.' said he. "`There. give me back my child. — `Wretch!' returned the old man. ah.' said the bandit. A ray of moonlight poured through the trees. They both advanced beneath the trees. `embrace me.' returned the chief. It was Rita's father.' The old man spoke not. who was seated by her. pale and bloody. as he raised his head.' said he. Carlini raised his head. `does any one dispute the possession of this woman with me?' — `No. `Now. and the bandits wrapped themselves in their cloaks. then. and lay down before the fire. `Now. for she would have served as the sport of the whole band. and Carlini recognized the old man. avenge her. while with the other he tore open his vest. `demand thy child of Carlini. through whose branches streamed the moonlight. the sheath at his belt was empty. the meaning of which he could not comprehend.' continued Carlini. and in an instant all were on the alert.' and withdrawing the knife from the wound in Rita's bosom. he felt that some great and unforeseen misfortune hung over his head. `Ah. As he approached.' said the bandit to Rita's father.

afterwards. the father kissed her first. He then took an oath of bitter vengeance over the dead body of the one and the tomb of the other. touched the trigger. But Carlini would not quit the forest. until the grave was filled. There was some surprise. and the bird fell dead at the foot of the tree.' Carlini obeyed. folded himself in his cloak. But he was unable to complete this oath. when they had finished. and if that did not restore her courage. An hour before daybreak. and heard this oath of vengeance. "These narratives were frequently the theme of conversation between Luigi and Teresa. One day when they were talking over 317 . and had only their employers' leave to ask. and gave the word to march. the old man said. On the morning of the departure from the forest of Frosinone he had followed Carlini in the darkness. he should have received a ball between his shoulders. They were both orphans. perched on some dead branch.' Carlini fetched two pickaxes. they placed her in the grave.' — `Yet' — replied Carlini. as he was with his face to the enemy. I command you. my son. that. Then. anticipated it. for two days afterwards. `I thank you. which threw its ball so well. `Now. one taking the head. without knowing what had become of Rita's father. beneath which the young girl was to repose. It had been resolved the night before to change their encampment. in an encounter with the Roman carbineers. and now leave me alone. and then the lover. but Vampa reassured her with a smile. Then they knelt on each side of the grave. and the father and the lover began to dig at the foot of a huge oak. rejoined his comrades. These were the first tears the man of blood had ever wept. every one trembles at the name of Cucumetto. tapping the butt of his good fowling-piece. the other the feet. Time passed on. took aim. They told ten other stories of this bandit chief. and soon appeared to sleep as soundly as the rest. Cucumetto aroused his men. each more singular than the other. — `Leave me. He went toward the place where he had left him. `aid me to bury my child. Carlini was killed. Thus. however. The young girl trembled very much at hearing the stories. from Fondi to Perusia. like a wise man. they cast the earth over the corpse. which had been already sought and obtained. Then. When the grave was formed.' said the old man.mistress's father. He found the old man suspended from one of the branches of the oak which shaded his daughter's grave. and. 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. and said the prayers of the dead. he pointed to a crow. and the two young people had agreed to be married when Vampa should be twenty and Teresa nineteen years of age. extending his hand.

near which the two young persons used to graze their flocks. there would have been five hundred for you. they disappeared. The 318 . and had assumed the form of a brigand instead of a serpent.' replied the brigadier. and hurried towards them. `but we have not seen him. but in vain. Instantly afterwards four carbineers. if you had helped us to catch him. and this look from Teresa showed to him that she was a worthy daughter of Eve. pausing several times on his way. her eyes sparkled when she thought of all the fine gowns and gay jewellery she could buy with this purse of gold. as to Teresa. he exclaimed. The brigadier had a moment's hope.' The two young persons exchanged looks. which he offered to them. after a time. in a retreat unknown to every one. closed the stone upon him.' "Then the carbineers scoured the country in different directions. He had read in the countenances of Luigi and Teresa their steadfast resolution not to surrender him. and then went and resumed his seat by Teresa. and he drew from his pocket a purse full of gold. and Cucumetto came out. they heard two or three reports of firearms. Five hundred Roman crowns are three thousand lire. made a sign to the fugitive to take refuge there. drew it away. saw the young peasants. "`Yes. under the pretext of saluting his protectors. Through the crevices in the granite he had seen the two young peasants talking with the carbineers. it is very annoying. `I am pursued. for the man we are looking for is the chief. began to question them.' said the brigadier. hastened to the stone that closed up the entrance to their grotto. and then suddenly a man came out of the wood. But Vampa raised his head proudly. Vampa then removed the stone.their plans for the future. on horseback. three of them appeared to be looking for the fugitive. then.' — `Cucumetto?' cried Luigi and Teresa at the same moment. and guessed the subject of their parley. Several days elapsed. can you conceal me?' They knew full well that this fugitive must be a bandit. and he returned to the forest. and galloping up. but there is an innate sympathy between the Roman brigand and the Roman peasant and the latter is always ready to aid the former. appeared on the edge of the wood. `and as his head is valued at a thousand Roman crowns. and they neither saw nor heard of Cucumetto. `That is very annoying. "`Yes. and three thousand lire are a fortune for two poor orphans who are going to be married. When he came within hearing. without saying a word. Vampa. "Cucumetto was a cunning fiend. They had seen no one.' said Vampa. The three carbineers looked about carefully on every side. while the fourth dragged a brigand prisoner by the neck.

and the other as a woman of La Riccia. like those of the young women. formed quadrilles. who was hanging on Luigi's arm in a group of peasants. They both mingled. They were attired as peasants of Albano. with large embroidered flowers. Velletri. bowed in obedience. and gayest glass beads. she looked at Luigi. and the buttons of her corset were of jewels. Teresa had a great desire to see this ball. to which all that were distinguished in Rome were invited. that she and he might be present amongst the servants of the house. Her cap was embroidered with pearls. Luigi slowly 319 . her apron of Indian muslin. The ball was given by the Count for the particular pleasure of his daughter Carmela. father?' said Carmela. and saying a few words to him. the guests stopped. `are we not in Carnival time?' — Carmela turned towards the young man who was talking with her. with the servants and peasants. We need hardly add that these peasant costumes. her girdle was of Turkey silk. but not one of the guests had a costume similar to her own. and Sora.time of the Carnival was at hand. and danced in any part of the grounds they pleased. and the terraces to the garden-walks. The Count of San-Felice pointed out Teresa. — `Certainly. 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 very soon the palace overflowed to the terraces. "The festa was magnificent. The Count of San-Felice announced a grand masked ball. the one as a woman of Nettuno. Luigi wore the very picturesque garb of the Roman peasant at holiday time. This was granted. who could not refuse his assent. were brilliant with gold and jewels. whom he adored. `Will you allow me. her most brilliant ornaments in her hair. pointed with her finger to Teresa. Carmela was precisely the age and figure of Teresa. Carmela was attired like a woman of Sonnino. not only was the villa brilliantly illuminated. At each cross-path was an orchestra. Carmela looked all around her. Teresa felt a flush pass over her face. The young man looked. Civita-Castellana. the pins in her hair were of gold and diamonds. the steward. and invited her to dance in a quadrille directed by the count's daughter. Luigi asked permission of his protector. and Teresa was as handsome as Carmela. but there was one lady wanting. or those of her companions. but thousands of colored lanterns were suspended from the trees in the garden. "Carmela wished to form a quadrille. her bodice and skirt were of cashmere. and then went to Teresa. Two of her companions were dressed.' replied the count. and tables spread with refreshments. as they had leave to do. — she was in the costume of the women of Frascati. On the evening of the ball Teresa was attired in her best.

Teresa was endowed with all those wild graces which are so much more potent than our affected and studied elegancies. the cashmere waist-girdles. and it was evident there was a great demand for a repetition. he clutched with one hand the branch of a tree against which he was leaning. and then thrilled through his whole body. soon recovered herself. although Teresa listened timidly and with downcast eyes to the conversation of her cavalier. Thus. and the reflection of sapphires and diamonds almost turned her giddy brain. and each time she saw that he was pale and that his features were agitated. Certainly. She had almost all the honors of the quadrille. and it seemed as though a bell were ringing in his ears. influenced by her ambitions and coquettish disposition. and where Luigi awaited her. and thus the embroidery and muslins. all dazzled her. which he had held beneath his own. Then fearing that his paroxysm might get the better of him. in the eyes of an artist. Teresa might escape him. and which.relinquished Teresa's arm. when their hands touched. he felt as though he should swoon. it seemed as if the whole world was turning round with him. Twice or thrice during the dance the young girl had glanced at Luigi. had dazzled her eyes with its sinister glare. and with the other convulsively grasped the dagger with a carved handle which was in his belt. Luigi was jealous! He felt that. and Teresa was frivolous and coquettish. we will not undertake to say that Carmela was not jealous of her. "The young peasant girl. it was almost tremblingly that she resumed her lover's arm. Carmela alone objecting to it. It was like an acute pain which gnawed at his heart. at first timid and scared. but the Count of San-Felice besought his daughter 320 . and all the voices of hell were whispering in his ears ideas of murder and assassination. He followed with his eye each movement of Teresa and her cavalier. unwittingly. The quadrille had been most perfect. "Luigi felt a sensation hitherto unknown arising in his mind. and if she were envious of the Count of San-Felice's daughter. but this is not all. every pulse beat with violence. When they spoke. We have said that Teresa was handsome. took her appointed place with much agitation in the aristocratic quadrille. as Luigi could read in the ardent looks of the good-looking young man that his language was that of praise. the exact and strict costume of Teresa had a very different character from that of Carmela and her companions. and Teresa. And with overpowering compliments her handsome cavalier led her back to the place whence he had taken her. once even the blade of his knife. accompanied by her elegant cavalier. half drawn from its sheath. he drew from the scabbard from time to time.

she did not know. and. `that I would give half my life for a costume such as she wore. to Teresa's great astonishment. yet fully comprehended that Luigi was right in reproaching her. but his face was so gloomy and terrible that her words froze to her lips. wrapped herself in a dressing-gown. he said. to the imprudence of some servant who had neglected to extinguish the lights. and the gates of the villa were closed on them for the festa in-doors. what were you thinking of as you danced opposite the young Countess of San-Felice?' — `I thought. that she acceded. calling for help as loudly as she could. but yet she did not the less feel that these reproaches were merited. Luigi remained mute. she sprang out of bed. and I had only one word to say. with all the frankness of her nature. However. She herself was not exempt from internal emotion. The Villa of San-Felice took fire in the rooms adjoining the very apartment of the lovely Carmela. she went into the house with a sigh. without whom it was impossible for the quadrille to be formed. `Do you desire it as ardently as you say?' — `Yes.' replied the young girl.' said Luigi. One of the cavaliers then hastened to invite Teresa. Why. that Luigi had not felt the strength to support another such trial. and with superhuman skill and 321 . and attempted to escape by the door. but the young girl had disappeared.' "`And what said your cavalier to you?' — `He said it only depended on myself to have it. when suddenly her window. half by persuasion and half by force. As Luigi spoke earnestly. due. then. a young peasant jumped into the chamber. no doubt. but the corridor by which she hoped to fly was already a prey to the flames. he left her. Teresa had yielded in spite of herself.' — `Well. "That night a memorable event occurred. which was twenty feet from the ground. she understood by his silence and trembling voice that something strange was passing within him. but when she looked at the agitated countenance of the young man. The truth was. and without having done anything wrong. — "`Teresa. and when he had quite disappeared. Teresa followed him with her eyes into the darkness as long as she could. She then returned to her room. was opened. much astonished. When the chill of the night had driven away the guests from the gardens. he took Teresa quite away. raised her head to look at him. he had removed Teresa toward another part of the garden. Awakened in the night by the light of the flames.' "`He was right. seized her in his arms. you shall have it!' "The young girl. and not a word escaped his lips the rest of the evening. and as he left her at her home.

Luigi pushed the stone behind her. whose astonishment increased at every word uttered by Luigi. but what of that. she on her part assumed a smiling air. Luigi was not mistaken. as long as Carmela was safe and uninjured? Her preserver was everywhere sought for. All the servants surrounded her. `but I was mad to utter such a wish. He came toward Teresa in high spirits. at the usual hour. he put his horse into a gallop and advanced toward him. but seeing Luigi so cheerful. and on a chair at the side was laid the rest of the costume. Luigi took her arm beneath his own. and. excepting the danger Carmela had run. on a rustic table. he saw a traveller on horseback. stopping a moment. `yesterday evening you told me you would give all the world to have a costume similar to that of the count's daughter. were spread out the pearl necklace and the diamond pins. `but of course your reply was only to please me. which was natural to her when she was not excited or in a passion. and seemed to have completely forgotten the events of the previous evening. The young girl. lighted up by two wax lights. Luigi arrived first. `Go into the grotto and dress yourself. When he saw Luigi.' At these words he drew away the stone. An entire wing of the villa was burnt down. The young girl was very pensive. you shall have it. offering her assistance. As the count was immensely rich. without inquiring whence this attire came.' replied Teresa with astonishment.' — `And I replied. — the loss occasioned by the conflagration was to him but a trifle.' said Luigi. The traveller. "Teresa uttered a cry of joy. When she recovered. and thus presenting against the blue sky that perfect outline which is peculiar to distant objects in southern climes. or even thanking Luigi. but he did not appear. transformed into a dressing-room."' — `Yes. which burnt on each side of a splendid mirror. looked at him steadfastly. — and the marvellous manner in which she had escaped. but no one had seen him.' — `Yes. Then he paused. made that appear to him rather a favor of providence than a real misfortune. made by Luigi. perceiving that there was something extraordinary. darted into the grotto. he was inquired after.' replied the young girl.' "`I have promised no more than I have given you. `Teresa. for on the crest of a small adjacent hill which cut off the view toward Palestrina. Teresa. "The next day.strength conveyed her to the turf of the grass-plot. as if uncertain of his road. Carmela was greatly troubled that she had not recognized him. and showed Teresa the grotto. had 322 . the two young peasants were on the borders of the forest. "Very well. her father was by her side.' said Luigi proudly. and led her to the door of the grotto. who was going from Palestrina to Tivoli. where she fainted.

with the same air as he would have replied. it is hardly worth a piastre. `take these two Venetian sequins and give them to your bride. placed his carbine on his shoulder. "`Thank you. `I render a service. "it is a very pretty name. as may well be supposed. 323 .' — `Ah. and on reaching these the traveller might again stray from his route. to make herself a pair of earrings. and what may you have to say against this name?" inquired Albert. and the adventures of the gentleman of that name amused me very much in my youth. but for me.' said the traveller.' said the young herdsman. `you will not find one better carved between Albano and Civita-Castellana. excellency. perhaps. — "That is your road. `but then the obligation will be on my side. the young man directed him.' replied the traveller. accept a gift." "Well.' said the traveller.' — `And here is your recompense. `am called Sinbad the Sailor. you will. for this poniard is worth more than two sequins. awakened in him a world of recollections. "Sinbad the Sailor. I do not sell it.' replied the shepherd. and freed from his heavy covering. with an air as majestic as that of an emperor." he said. "Yes.' — `For a dealer perhaps. that is another thing. which a horse can scarcely keep up with.'" Franz d'Epinay started with surprise. — `And yours?' — `I.' said the traveller. and now you cannot again mistake. who seemed used to this difference between the servility of a man of the cities and the pride of the mountaineer.mistaken his way. drawing back his hand.' said Luigi." — Franz said no more. — `Luigi Vampa. preceded the traveller with the rapid step of a mountaineer. "Proceed!" said he to the host.' "`And then do you take this poniard.' — `Well. yes. On arriving there.' — `Then. The name of Sinbad the Sailor. he begged Luigi to be his guide. King of Macedon.' "`What is your name?' inquired the traveller. "that was the name which the traveller gave to Vampa as his own. Luigi threw his cloak on the ground. In ten minutes Luigi and the traveller reached the cross-roads." replied the narrator. I must confess. as had the name of the Count of Monte Cristo on the previous evening. who engraved it myself.' answered the traveller. he stretched his hand towards that one of the roads which the traveller was to follow. but as at a distance of a quarter of a mile the road again divided into three ways.' "`I accept it. Alexander. `if you refuse wages. offering the young herdsman some small pieces of money.

Teresa. he thought he heard a cry. Vampa measured the distance. Three cries for help came more distinctly to his ear. The ravisher stopped suddenly. had pierced his heart. shuddering in every limb. who was hastening towards the wood. and slowly returned by the way he had gone. good! You are dressed. he turned towards the wounded man. it is now my turn to dress myself. The cry proceeded from the grotto. so that the young man feared that the ball that had brought down his enemy. directed by the unerring skill of the young herdsman. When Luigi had assured himself that she was safe and unharmed. the man was at least two hundred paces in advance of him.' 324 . dared not approach the slain ruffian but by degrees. and believed he at length had her in his power. and profiting by the moment when her lover had left her alone. He bounded like a chamois. From that time he had watched them. and in a moment reached the summit of a hill opposite to that on which he had perceived the traveller. Vampa then rushed towards Teresa. and there was not a chance of overtaking him. The young shepherd stopped. his knees bent under him. his mouth in a spasm of agony. was already three-quarters of the way on the road from the grotto to the forest. Suddenly Vampa turned toward his mistress: — `Ah. and he fell with Teresa in his arms. when the ball."Vampa put the two sequins haughtily into his pocket. followed him for a second in his track.' said he — `good. had also wounded his betrothed. Vampa gazed on him for a moment without betraying the slightest emotion. A moment afterwards he thought he heard his own name pronounced distinctly. and recognized Cucumetto. while. as if his feet had been rooted to the ground. and she had dropped on her knees. From the day on which the bandit had been saved by the two young peasants. she was unscathed. but the man lay on the earth struggling in the agonies of death. on the contrary. for at ten paces from the dying man her legs had failed her. and threw a hesitating glance at the dead body over the shoulder of her lover. and his hair on end in the sweat of death. the centaur. He had just expired. had carried her off. and then fired. with clinched hands. As he came within two or three hundred paces of the grotto. as Nessus. Vampa approached the corpse. The young girl rose instantly. carried Dejanira. and it was fright alone that had overcome Teresa. cocking his carbine as he went. and had sworn she should be his. His eyes remained open and menacing. he had been enamoured of Teresa. He cast his eyes around him and saw a man carrying off Teresa. Fortunately. He listened to know whence this sound could proceed. took aim at the ravisher. then he put the butt of his carbine to his shoulder. This man.

led into a deep gorge. with buttons of cut gold. Vampa took this wild road. — `Now. Teresa uttered a cry of admiration. and shadowed by the tufted umbrage of the pines. Vampa in this attire resembled a painting by Leopold Robert. emeralds. whose bed was dry. seemed. and red and green silk. two watches hung from his girdle. fastened above the knee with diamond buckles. on reaching Paris. he would have seen a strange thing. his costume was no less elegant than that of Teresa. and soon entered it. but for the difficulties of its descent. but as she saw him advance with even step and composed countenance. At the end of this time they had reached the thickest of the forest. sky-blue velvet breeches. `are you ready to share my fortune. which. no doubt. or Schnetz. while in her turn Teresa remained outside. not uttering a syllable. that he had met an Alpine shepherdess seated at the foot of the Sabine Hill. and a smile of pride passed over his lips. Vampa took Cucumetto's body in his arms and conveyed it to the grotto. — `And follow me wherever I go?' — `To the world's end. and a splendid poniard was in his belt. — a shepherdess watching her flock. and would have declared.' he said to Teresa. They went towards the forest. garters of deerskin. clad in a cashmere grown. he therefore went forward without a moment's hesitation. a silk waistcoat covered with embroidery. and rubies.' — `Then take my arm. for he appeared to her at this moment as handsome. He wore a vest of garnet-colored velvet. although there was no beaten track. We need scarcely say that all the paths of the mountain were known to Vampa.' — The young girl did so without questioning her lover as to where he was conducting her. and pressed closely against her guide. If a second traveller had passed. He would. yes!' exclaimed the young girl enthusiastically. with earrings and necklace of pearls. proud. and let us on. and powerful as a god. and buttons of sapphires. and thus they kept on advancing for nearly an hour and a half. enclosed between two ridges. that path to Avernus of which Virgil speaks. she endeavored to repress 325 . have believed that he had returned to the times of Florian. whatever it may be?' — `Oh. a cartridge-box worked with gold. but he knew his path by looking at the trees and bushes. diamond pins. At the end of a quarter of an hour Vampa quitted the grotto. The young man saw the effect produced on his betrothed. He had assumed the entire costume of Cucumetto. worked with a thousand arabesques. Teresa had become alarmed at the wild and deserted look of the plain around her."Teresa was clothed from head to foot in the garb of the Count of SanFelice's daughter. A torrent. and a hat whereon hung ribbons of all colors. a Roman scarf tied round his neck. we have no time to lose.

and all at once found themselves in the presence of twenty bandits. — `Yes. `or.' said the lieutenant. 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. about ten paces from them. vice Cucumetto deceased. — `I have killed your chief. — `What has he to say?' inquired the young man who was in command in the chief's absence. and Anagni. went before Teresa. Then the bandit thrice imitated the cry of a crow.' said the sentinel.' said the sentinel. The retreat of Rocca Bianca was at the top of a small mountain. `you may now go on. `and you seek admittance into our ranks?' — `Welcome!' cried several bandits from Ferrusino. "The explanation would be too long. 326 . — `Not another step. a man advanced from behind a tree and aimed at Vampa. go first. Cucumetto. The bandits shouted with laughter. `or you are a dead man. then. as you know your way. The two young persons obeyed. and continued to advance with the same firm and easy step as before. `And what have you done to aspire to this honor?' demanded the lieutenant. — `I am Luigi Vampa.' An hour afterwards Luigi Vampa was chosen captain. turning towards his friend. — `I wish to say that I am tired of a shepherd's life.' — `Follow me. no longer able to restrain her alarm. `Here is a young man who seeks and wishes to speak to you.' he said.' said the young man. who had recognized Luigi Vampa. — `Ah." replied Albert. 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.her emotion. At the end of ten minutes the bandit made them a sign to stop. my dear landlord. a croak answered this signal. then.' was Vampa's reply.' — Luigi and Teresa again set forward. — `I come to ask to be your captain. my dear Albert. "and never had an existence.' — `What do you want?' — `I would speak with your companions who are in the glade at Rocca Bianca. `do wolves rend each other?' — `Who are you?' inquired the sentinel.' — `And what may that be?' inquired the bandits with astonishment. while Teresa. but I came to ask something more than to be your companion. "what think you of citizen Luigi Vampa?" "I say he is a myth." replied Franz." "And what may a myth be?" inquired Pastrini." said Franz. whose dress I now wear. — `Good!' said the sentry. I understand. shepherd of the SanFelice farm. Pampinara. and I set fire to the villa SanFelice to procure a wedding-dress for my betrothed. clung closely to him. Teresa and Luigi reached the summit." "Well. raising his hand with a gesture of disdain. Suddenly.' — `What.' said Vampa.

then they pursue him." So saying." said Albert. 327 . Guanouti. and got into the carriage." said Franz. They seek for him in the mountains." "By the Porta del Popolo or by the streets. then. morbleu. your excellencies?" "By the streets."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. or Monte Cristo. At the sixtieth minute of this hour. and the smugglers of the coast. "let us to the Colosseum. and lighting his third cigar. and when they hunt for him there." "And how does he behave towards travellers?" "Alas! his plan is very simple. he reappears suddenly at Albano. or plants his dagger in his heart. and he is on the waters. I thought you had more courage. they follow him on the waters. my dear fellow. the two young men went down the staircase. whether he gives eight hours. or a day wherein to pay their ransom. "Excellencies." inquired Franz of his companion." The clock struck nine as the door opened. "the coach is ready. you see." "Then the police have vainly tried to lay hands on him?" "Why." said Albert. twelve hours. by the streets!" cried Franz. and he has suddenly taken refuge in the islands." "Well." said he. the fishermen of the Tiber. or La Riccia. he blows out the prisoner's brains with a pistol-shot." "Well. "Ah. "really. "if the way be picturesque. It depends on the distance he may be from the city. and he is on the open sea. "are you still disposed to go to the Colosseum by the outer wall?" "Quite so. rising. at Giglio. Tivoli. and when that time has elapsed he allows another hour's grace. and that settles the account. Albert. and a coachman appeared. if the money is not forthcoming. he has a good understanding with the shepherds in the plains.

The road selected was a continuation of the Via Sistina. that during the ride to the Colosseum they passed not a single ancient ruin. and further. as on those of Corsica. CivitaVecchio. reminded Franz of the two Corsican bandits he had found supping so amicably with the crew of the little yacht. and to ask himself an interminable number of questions touching its various circumstances without. and Gaeta. Ostia. This itinerary possessed another great advantage. abundantly proved to him that his island friend was playing his philanthropic part on the shores of Piombino. 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. in which his mysterious host of Monte Cristo was so strangely mixed up. however. — that of leaving Franz at full liberty to indulge his deep reverie upon the subject of Signor Pastrini's story. One fact more than the rest brought his friend "Sinbad the Sailor" back to his recollection. proving thereby how largely his circle of acquaintances extended. 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 that was the mysterious sort of intimacy that seemed to exist between the brigands and the sailors.Chapter 34 The Colosseum. which had even deviated from its course and touched at Porto-Vecchio for the sole purpose of landing them. Franz had so managed his route. and Pastrini's account of Vampa's having found refuge on board the vessels of smugglers and fishermen. Seated with folded arms in a corner of the carriage. and Spain. 328 . the travellers would find themselves directly opposite the Colosseum. Tuscany. Franz bethought him of having heard his singular entertainer speak both of Tunis and Palermo. The very name assumed by his host of Monte Cristo and again repeated by the landlord of the Hotel de Londres. he continued to ponder over the singular history he had so lately listened to.

and. and never quits you while you remain in the city. be easily imagined there is no scarcity of guides at the Colosseum. even amid the glib loquacity of the guides. that wonder of all ages. than. therefore. at which time the vast proportions of the building appear twice as large when viewed by the mysterious beams of a southern moonlit sky. abandoning Albert to the guides (who would by no means yield their prescriptive right of carrying their victims 329 . so unexpected was his appearance. and more especially by moonlight. and the many voices of Fame spread far and wide the surpassing merits of this incomparable monument. who appeared to have sprung up from the ground. and certainly no adequate notion of these stupendous ruins can be formed save by such as have visited them. there is also a special cicerone belonging to each monument — nay. and the young men. the young men made no attempt at resistance.But however the mind of the young man might be absorbed in these reflections. all must bow to the superiority of the gigantic labor of the Caesars. nor is it possible. they essayed not to escape from their ciceronian tyrants. had the reflective Franz walked a hundred steps beneath the interior porticoes of the ruin. found themselves opposite a cicerone." As for Albert and Franz. but blindly and confidingly surrendered themselves into the care and custody of their conductors. whose rays are sufficiently clear and vivid to light the horizon with a glow equal to the soft twilight of an eastern clime. almost to each part of a monument. who seizes upon you directly you set foot in your hotel. eagerly alighting. Thus. which Martial thus eulogizes: "Let Memphis cease to boast the barbarous miracles of her pyramids. it would have been so much the more difficult to break their bondage. his mind. to his credit be it spoken. The carriage stopped near the Meta Sudans. at Rome. It may. through the various openings of which the pale moonlight played and flickered like the unearthly gleam from the eyes of the wandering dead. and the wonders of Babylon be talked of no more among us. they were at once dispersed at the sight of the dark frowning ruins of the stupendous Colosseum. as the guides alone are permitted to visit these monuments with torches in their hands. then. the door was opened. while his less favored companion trod for the first time in his life the classic ground forming the monument of Flavius Vespasian. Albert had already made seven or eight similar excursions to the Colosseum. to avoid this abundant supply of guides. Scarcely. therefore. The usual guide from the hotel having followed them. was duly and deeply touched with awe and enthusiastic admiration of all he saw. and. they had paid two conductors. indeed. besides the ordinary cicerone.

beginning. upon which the moon was at that moment pouring a full tide of silvery brightness. possibly. 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 restingplace. and immediately opposite a large aperture. which had. Around this opening. grew a quantity of 330 . but the hesitation with which he proceeded. and from whence his eyes followed the motions of Albert and his guides. with the Lions' Den. seated himself at the foot of a column. About ten feet from the spot where he and the stranger were. preferred the enjoyment of solitude and his own thoughts to the frivolous gabble of the guides. and finishing with Caesar's "Podium.through the routine regularly laid down. Conjecture soon became certainty. to escape a jargon and mechanical survey of the wonders by which he was surrounded. and also that some one. And his appearance had nothing extraordinary in it. and as regularly followed by them. for the figure of a man was distinctly visible to Franz. By a sort of instinctive impulse. the roof had given way. like Franz."). The stranger thus presenting himself was probably a person who. holding torches in their hands. 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. who. but it seemed to him that the substance that fell gave way beneath the pressure of a foot. leaving a large round opening. Franz withdrew as much as possible behind his pillar. stopping and listening with anxious attention at every step he took. and then again disappeared down the steps conducting to the seats reserved for the Vestal virgins. which permitted him to enjoy a full and undisturbed view of the gigantic dimensions of the majestic ruin. Franz ascended a half-dilapidated staircase. There was nothing remarkable in the circumstance of a fragment of granite giving way and falling heavily below. had emerged from a vomitarium at the opposite extremity of the Colosseum. gradually emerging from the staircase opposite. 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. for ages permitted a free entrance to the brilliant moonbeams that now illumined the vast pile. as they glided along. was approaching the spot where he sat. through which might be seen the blue vault of heaven. leaving them to follow their monotonous round. but dragged the unconscious visitor to the various objects with a pertinacity that admitted of no appeal. as a matter of course. resembling. and. thickly studded with stars. convinced Franz that he expected the arrival of some person.

served likewise to mask the lower part of his countenance. and the stranger began to show manifest signs of impatience. The man who had performed this daring act with so much indifference wore the Transtevere costume. when a slight noise was heard outside the aperture in the roof. while the upper part was completely hidden by his broad-brimmed hat. he could only come to one conclusion. The lower part of his dress was more distinctly visible by the bright rays of the moon." "Say not a word about being late. whose delicate green branches stood out in bold relief against the clear azure of the firmament. and I had an immense deal of trouble before I could get a chance to speak to Beppo. thrown over his left shoulder." replied the stranger in purest Tuscan." 331 . in the Roman dialect. and the figure of a man was clearly seen gazing with eager scrutiny on the immense space beneath him. that rendered it impossible to distinguish his features. "I beg your excellency's pardon for keeping you waiting. as his eye caught sight of him in the mantle. But even if you had caused me to wait a little while. over which descended fashionably cut trousers of black cloth. entering through the broken ceiling. which. I see. and glided down by their help to within three or four feet of the ground. Angelo. "'tis I who am too soon. although his dress was easily made out." said the man. "I came here direct from the Castle of St. "but I don't think I'm many minutes after my time. he grasped a floating mass of thickly matted boughs." said the man." "Your excellency is perfectly right in so thinking. then. Some few minutes had elapsed. Beppo is employed in the prison. and almost immediately a dark shadow seemed to obstruct the flood of light that had entered it. From the imperfect means Franz had of judging. — that the person whom he was thus watching certainly belonged to no inferior station of life." "Indeed! You are a provident person. and hung floating to and fro. while large masses of thick. He wore a large brown mantle." "And who is Beppo?" "Oh. shed their refulgent beams on feet cased in elegantly made boots of polished leather. like so many waving strings. The person whose mysterious arrival had attracted the attention of Franz stood in a kind of halflight. ten o'clock his just struck on the Lateran. I should have felt quite sure that the delay was not occasioned by any fault of yours. and then leaped lightly on his feet. strong fibrous shoots forced their way through the chasm. one fold of which.creeping plants. and I give him so much a year to let me know what is going on within his holiness's castle.

and that is. that you have inspired not only the pontifical government." "Briefly. will rush forward directly Peppino is brought for execution. who murdered the priest who brought him up. by the assistance of their stilettos. Perhaps some of these days I may be entrapped. One of the culprits will be mazzolato. and there is a spectacle to please every spectator. no one knows what may happen. instead of being knocked on the head as you would be if once they caught hold of you. to stop at nothing to restore a poor devil to liberty." "And what do you mean to do?" "To surround the scaffold with twenty of my best men. whose only crime consisted in furnishing us with provisions. and carry off the prisoner.) "The fact is. you see. and convinces me that my scheme is far better than yours." "That seems to me as hazardous as uncertain." "But Peppino did not even belong to my band: he was merely a poor shepherd. with such extreme fear. like poor Peppino and may be very glad to have some little nibbling mouse to gnaw the meshes of my net. what did you glean?" "That two executions of considerable interest will take place the day after to-morrow at two o'clock. who.* he is an atrocious villain.** and he. and deserves not the smallest pity. and." "My good friend." "And what is your excellency's project?" 332 ." (* Knocked on the head. but also the neighboring states. at a signal from me." said the man in the cloak. by which means." "Perhaps I am. I should hate and despise myself as a coward did I desert the brave fellow in his present extremity. but one thing I have resolved on. as is customary at Rome at the commencement of all great festivals. the amusements of the day are diversified. is poor Peppino. that they are glad of all opportunity of making an example. he is simply sentenced to be guillotined." "Which makes him your accomplice to all intents and purposes. your excellency. too. "excuse me for saying that you seem to me precisely in the mood to commit some wild or extravagant act. But mark the distinction with which he is treated. who has got into this scrape solely from having served me. and so help me out of prison. The other sufferer is sentenced to be decapitato."Why." "Without reckoning the wholly unexpected one I am preparing to surprise them with. ** Beheaded. drive back the guard.

" "And do you feel sure of succeeding?" "Pardieu!" exclaimed the man in the cloak. pistols. who. that the person receiving them shall obtain a respite till next year for Peppino. and he will deliver the official order to the officer. and every minute sub-divided into sixty seconds? Now in 86." said the man. and have no fears for the result." "At least. it will be as well to acquaint Peppino with what we have determined on. because in either case a very useless expense will have been incurred. and I will give it to him. His dress will procure him the means of approaching the scaffold itself. "I said. there can be no harm in myself and party being in readiness. then.000 piastres. that is very easily arranged. and the centre with white." "Your excellency. carbines. if it be only to prevent his dying of fear or losing his senses. but rely upon my obtaining the reprieve I seek. that I would do more single-handed by the means of gold than you and all your troop could effect with stilettos. my good fellow. Leave me. Take what precautions you please. in case your excellency should fail.400 seconds very many things can be done. in his turn. if it is any satisfaction to you to do so." "And what of that? Is not a day divided into twenty-four hours. the execution is fixed for the day after tomorrow. suddenly expressing himself in French. are you not?" 333 .000 piastres will afford him the means of escaping from his prison. "What did your excellency say?" inquired the other." "And whom will you employ to carry the reprieve to the officer directing the execution?" "Send one of your men. should I have obtained the requisite pardon for Peppino. and that you have but one day to work in." "None whatever. each hour into sixty minutes. will hand it to the executioner. and during that year. the two outside windows will be hung with yellow damasks. and blunderbusses included." "Remember. in the meantime. disguised as a penitent friar. I have engaged the three lower windows at the Cafe Rospoli." "Oh. I will so advantageously bestow 2. having a large cross in red marked on it." "And how shall I know whether your excellency has succeeded or not. another skilfully placed 1. "you are fully persuaded of my entire devotion to you."Just this. to act.

for done it shall be. I am sadly afraid both my reputation and credit would suffer thereby." "'Twere better we should not be seen together." "Let that day come sooner or later. you may regard it as done. I flatter myself that there can be no doubt of it. Franz. then. the Transteverin disappeared down the staircase. in my turn. "Well. on the word and faith of" — "Hush!" interrupted the stranger. listening with studied indifference 334 . depend upon me as firmly as I do upon you. use your daggers in any way you please. and descended to the arena by an outward flight of steps. but the most absolute obedience from myself and those under me that one human being can render to another. only fulfil your promise of rescuing Peppino. and if from the other end of the world you but write me word to do such or such a thing." "We understand each other perfectly. bearing a red cross. "I hear a noise. Adieu." "And if you fail?" "Then all three windows will have yellow draperies." "'Tis some travellers. my good friend. if you obtain the reprieve?" "The middle window at the Cafe Rospoli will be hung with white damask. when I. those guides are nothing but spies. who made the lofty building re-echo with the sound of his friend's name. however I may be honored by your friendship. however. Franz was on the road to the Piazza de Spagni." "Have a care how far you pledge yourself." replied the cavalier in the cloak. and. passed almost close to Franz."Nay. and henceforward you shall receive not only devotion. and might possibly recognize you. then. The next minute Franz heard himself called by Albert. In ten minutes after the strangers had departed. my good fellow." "And then?" "And then. for I may remind you of your promise at some. muffling his features more closely than before in the folds of his mantle. 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. who are visiting the Colosseum by torchlight. your excellency. perhaps. if once the extent of our intimacy were known. while his companion. my worthy friend. not very distant period. may require your aid and influence." Saying these words. your excellency will find me what I have found you in this my heavy trouble. and I further promise you to be there as a spectator of your prowess." "Well. then.

but in the present instance. At five o'clock Albert returned. "Sinbad the Sailor. whose mysterious meeting in the Colosseum he had so unintentionally witnessed. therefore. and did not awake till late. hear them when or where he might. he permitted his former host to retire without attempting a recognition. and Franz. and with that intent have sought to renew their short acquaintance. but fully promising himself a rich indemnity for his present forbearance should chance afford him another opportunity. 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. In vain did Franz endeavor to forget the many perplexing thoughts which assailed him. the confidential nature of the conversation he had overheard made him. that the person who wore the mantle was no other than his former host and entertainer. yet well-pitched voice that had addressed him in the grotto of Monte Cristo. did not hear what was said. touching the iron-pointed nets used to prevent the ferocious beasts from springing on the spectators. from his being either wrapped in his mantle or obscured by the shadow. Albert had employed his time in arranging for the evening's diversion. Like a genuine Frenchman. and which he heard for the second time amid the darkness and ruined grandeur of the Colosseum. Franz let him proceed without interruption." Under any other circumstances. that Franz's ear recalled most vividly the deep the learned dissertation delivered by Albert. he fell asleep at daybreak. and. but not so the other. and though Franz had been unable to distinguish his features. he had been occupied in leaving his letters 335 . It was more especially when this man was speaking in a manner half jesting. delighted with his day's work. after the manner of Pliny and Calpurnius. the firmer grew his opinion on the subject. the more entire was his conviction. One of the two men. and free to ponder over all that had occurred. he longed to be alone. relinquished the carriage to Albert for the whole of the day. half bitter. judge that his appearance at such a time would be anything but agreeable. And the more he thought. 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. Franz would have found it impossible to resist his extreme curiosity to know more of so singular a personage. and the more he thought. with propriety. in fact. Worn out at length. As we have seen. in vain did he court the refreshment of sleep. having a number of letters to write. he had sent to engage a box at the Teatro Argentino. was an entire stranger to him.

he was a viscount — a recently created one. as elsewhere. and Neapolitans were all faithful. besides being an elegant. with their orchestras from which it is impossible to see. Albert had never been able to endure the Italian theatres. The young men. Sometimes Albert would affect to make a joke of his want of success. Yet he could not restrain a hope that in Italy. and that upon his return he should astonish the Parisian world with the recital of his numerous loveaffairs. Albert. Moriani. all these defects pressed hard on a man who had had his stall at the Bouffes. that they are faithful even in their infidelity. but. Alas. to think that Albert de Morcerf. Still. 336 . Albert displayed his most dazzling and effective costumes each time he visited the theatres. as. The opera of "Parisina" was announced for representation. according to the characteristic modesty of a Frenchman. there might be an exception to the general rule. the lovely Genoese. and the principal actors were Coselli. should thus be passed over. he had seen (as he called it) all the remarkable sights at Rome. if not to their husbands. well-looking young man. but internally he was deeply wounded. 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. and all he gained was the painful conviction that the ladies of Italy have this advantage over those of France. and also what performers appeared in it. and thought not of changing even for the splendid appearance of Albert de Morcerf. poor Albert! none of those interesting adventures fell in his way. besides this. in spite of this. his elegant toilet was wholly thrown away. Neither had he neglected to ascertain the name of the piece to be played that night at the Teatro Argentino. And the thing was so much the more annoying. the most admired and most sought after of any young person of his day. was also possessed of considerable talent and ability. therefore. had reason to consider themselves fortunate in having the opportunity of hearing one of the best works by the composer of "Lucia di Lammermoor. Florentines. and had shared a lower box at the Opera. alas." supported by three of the most renowned vocalists of Italy. moreover. or open boxes.of introduction. Yes. and his self-love immensely piqued. at least to their lovers. Albert had quitted Paris with the full conviction that he had only to show himself in Italy to carry all before him. and La Specchia. and the absence of balconies. and had received in return more invitations to balls and routs than it would be possible for him to accept. in a single day he had accomplished what his more serious-minded companion would have taken weeks to effect. and merely have his labor for his pains.

Rome is the spot where even the wisest and gravest throw off the usual rigidity of their lives. but to crown all these advantages. or their own thoughts. but." and although the box engaged for the two friends was sufficiently capacious to contain at least a dozen persons. however. Albert. expectations. were all so much engrossed with themselves. and claims to notice. with the "holy week" that was to succeed it. for this reason. this attempt to attract notice wholly failed. aided by a powerful opera-glass. as to 337 . alas. 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. so filled every fair breast. or a place in a princely balcony. Albert de Morcerf commanded an income of 50. Totally disregarding the business of the stage. he might not in truth attract the notice of some fair Roman. whether dated from 1399 or merely 1815. and it was but too apparent that the lovely creatures. hoped to indemnify himself for all these slights and indifferences during the Carnival. — who knew but that. although each of the three tiers of boxes is deemed equally aristocratic. and a genealogical tree is equally estimated. With this design he had engaged a box in the most conspicuous part of the theatre. their lovers. and an introduction might ensue that would procure him the offer of a seat in a carriage.certainly. he leaned from his box and began attentively scrutinizing the beauty of each pretty woman. and is. The truth was. into whose good graces he was desirous of stealing. and exerted himself to set off his personal attractions by the aid of the most rich and elaborate toilet. The box taken by Albert was in the first circle. 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. thus advantageously placed. generally styled the "nobility's boxes. that the anticipated pleasures of the Carnival. it had cost less than would be paid at some of the French theatres for one admitting merely four occupants. knowing full well that among the different states and kingdoms in which this festivity is celebrated. a more than sufficient sum to render him a personage of considerable importance in Paris. that they had not so much as noticed him or the manipulation of his glass. but in the present day it is not necessary to go as far back as Noah in tracing a descent. therefore Albert had not an instant to lose in setting forth the programme of his hopes. and deign to mingle in the follies of this time of liberty and relaxation. not even curiosity had been excited. The Carnival was to commence on the morrow.000 livres. Another motive had influenced Albert's selection of his seat.

" "And her name is — " "Countess G—— .prevent the least attention being bestowed even on the business of the stage. are you really on such good terms with her as to venture to take me to her box?" "Why. I know her by name!" exclaimed Albert." "Shall I assist you in repairing your negligence?" asked Franz. or rouse themselves from their musings. I have only had the honor of being in her society and conversing with her three or four times in my life. "My dear fellow. a lady entered to whom Franz had been introduced in Paris. The actors made their entries and exits unobserved or unthought of. he said hastily. to listen to some brilliant effort of Moriani's." At that instant. "Do you know the woman who has just entered that box?" "Yes. at certain conventional moments. the spectators would suddenly cease their conversation." returned Franz calmly. what do you think of her?" "Oh. where indeed. believe me. they quickly relapsed into their former state of preoccupation or interesting conversation. "you seem to be on excellent terms with the beautiful countess. The quick eye of Albert caught the involuntary start with which his friend beheld the new arrival. a Venetian. Towards the close of the first act. "she is said to possess as much wit and cleverness as beauty. the countess perceived Franz. the door of a box which had been hitherto vacant was opened. or to join in loud applause at the wonderful powers of La Specchia. I was to have been presented to her when I met her at Madame Villefort's ball. but that momentary excitement over." "Ah. he had imagined she still was. and graciously waved her hand to him. "but you merely fall into the same error which leads so many of our countrymen to commit the most egregious blunders. a well-executed recitative by Coselli. — I mean that of judging the habits and customs of Italy and Spain by our Parisian notions. to which he replied by a respectful inclination of the head. but you know that even such an acquaintance as that might warrant my doing what you ask. she is perfectly lovely — what a complexion! And such magnificent hair! Is she French?" "No. and. turning to him. nothing is more fallacious than to form any estimate of the degree of intimacy you may suppose existing among persons by the familiar terms 338 ." said Albert." "You are mistaken in thinking so. "Upon my word.

breaking in upon his discourse. such singers as these don't make the same impression on you they perhaps do on others." "Well. "never mind the past. "you must have been a very entertaining companion alone." "But. they will. when one has been accustomed to Malibran and Sontag." "Oh. you are really too difficult to please." "You were with her. let us only remember the present. and nearly alone. on my soul." The curtain at length fell on the performances. turning to him." "What a confounded time this first act takes. of taste. or all but alone. Are you not going to keep your promise of introducing me to the fair subject of our remarks?" "Certainly. then." said Franz." "I never fancied men of his dark." "But what an awkward. yes." continued Franz gravely. you know. there is a similarity of feeling at this instant between ourselves and the countess — nothing more. what do you say to La Specchia? Did you ever see anything more perfect than her acting?" "Why. my dear fellow. "And in what manner has this congeniality of mind been evinced?" "By the countess's visiting the Colosseum. while Albert continued to point his glass at every box in the theatre. that they never mean to finish it." cried Albert. only listen to that charming finale. the living should be my theme. by moonlight. you must admire Moriani's style and execution." "My good friend. to the infinite satisfaction of the Viscount of 339 .they seem upon." "Is there. is it sympathy of heart?" "No. I believe. How exquisitely Coselli sings his part. and yet to find nothing better a talk about than the dead! All I can say is. if ever I should get such a chance. "you seem determined not to approve. inelegant fellow he is. my good fellow? Pray tell me." "And you will probably find your theme ill-chosen. directly the curtain falls on the stage. we talked of the illustrious dead of whom that magnificent ruin is a glorious monument!" "Upon my word. indeed." said Albert." "At least. with a beautiful woman in such a place of sentiment as the Colosseum. ponderous appearance singing with a voice like a woman's. as we did last night." "And what did you say to her?" "Oh. then?" "I was.

Albert was soon deeply engrossed in discoursing upon Paris and Parisian matters. then. if he wished to view the ballet. closely followed by Albert. Franz presented Albert as one of the most distinguished young men of the day. was the outline of a masculine figure. nor did he say more than the truth. she recommended Franz to take the next best. At the knock. was a woman of exquisite beauty. and received from her a gracious smile in token that he would be welcome. bowed gracefully to Albert. inviting Albert to take the vacant seat beside her. but began at once the tour of the house. dressed in a Greek costume. the door was immediately opened. speaking to the countess of the various persons they both knew there. This important task was just completed as they arrived at the countess's box. and had requested him (Franz) to remedy the past misfortune by conducting him to her box. to inquire of the former if she knew who was the fair 340 . and extended her hand with cordial kindness to Franz. The countess. who had mutely interrogated the countess. arranged his cravat and wristbands. instantly rose and surrendered his place to the strangers. and. deeply grieved at having been prevented the honor of being presented to the countess during her sojourn in Paris. Franz perceived how completely he was in his element. but situated on the third row. for in Paris and the circle in which the viscount moved. and began in his turn to survey the audience. but in deep shadow. in the front of a box immediately opposite. Franz added that his companion. but the features of this latter personage it was not possible to distinguish. took up Albert's glass. who seized his hat. in reply. and to arrange the lappets of his coat. and concluded by asking pardon for his presumption in having taken it upon himself to do so. from the ease and grace with which she wore it. Sitting alone. was most anxious to make up for it. which evidently. 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. who. in obedience to the Italian custom. and signified to Franz that he was waiting for him to lead the way. unwilling to interfere with the pleasure he so evidently felt. was her national attire. rapidly passed his fingers through his hair. Behind her. he was looked upon and cited as a model of perfection. Franz could not forbear breaking in upon the apparently interesting conversation passing between the countess and Albert. in turn. Franz. sought not to retard the gratification of Albert's eager impatience.Morcerf. both as regarded his position in society and extraordinary talents. and pointed to the one behind her own chair. would be expected to retire upon the arrival of other visitors. and the young man who was seated beside the countess.

and elegance in which the whole corps de ballet. the singers in the opera having time to repose themselves and change their costume. and Chinese bells sounded their loudest from the orchestra. who. during the whole time the piece lasted. Sometimes she is accompanied by the person who is now with her. animated looks contrasting strongly with the utter indifference of her companion. one act of volition. The ballet at length came to a close. for I saw her where she now sits the very first night of the season. influenced the moving mass — the ballet was called "Poliska. the pauses between the performances are very short. her eager. and." Franz and the countess exchanged a smile. enjoying soft repose and bright celestial dreams.Albanian opposite. from the principal dancers to the humblest supernumerary." However much the ballet might have claimed his attention. Franz 341 . when necessary. at the first sound of the leader's bow across his violin. method. that would lead you to suppose that but one mind." replied the countess. Of this he took no heed. "is. while the dancers are executing their pirouettes and exhibiting their graceful steps. or elevating the same arm or leg with a simultaneous movement. never even moved. admirably arranged and put on the stage by Henri. and since then she has never missed a performance. unanimous plaudits of an enthusiastic and delighted audience. crashing din produced by the trumpets." "And what do you think of her personal appearance?" "Oh. while she seemed to experience an almost childlike delight in watching it. 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. but was. Franz was too deeply occupied with the beautiful Greek to take any note of it. as far as appearances might be trusted. The overture to the second act began. I consider her perfectly lovely — she is just my idea of what Medora must have been. Owing to the very judicious plan of dividing the two acts of the opera with a ballet. and the curtain fell amid the loud. The curtain rose on the ballet. not even when the furious. and a hundred and fifty persons may be seen exhibiting the same attitude. which was one of those excellent specimens of the Italian school. "All I can tell about her. that she has been at Rome since the beginning of the season. cymbals. and at others she is merely attended by a black servant. since beauty such as hers was well worthy of being observed by either sex. while Franz returned to his previous survey of the house and company. are all engaged on the stage at the same time. and then the latter resumed her conversation with Albert.

and was about to join the loud. Most of my readers are aware that the second act of "Parisina" opens with the celebrated and effective duet in which Parisina. and his eyes turned from the box containing the Greek girl and her strange companion to watch the business of the stage. "I asked you a short time since if you knew any particulars respecting the Albanian lady opposite." returned Franz. he could not distinguish a single feature. and the very same person he had encountered the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum. This duet is one of the most beautiful. The curtain rose. yet its notes. and then. and then. Excited beyond his usual calm demeanor. she became as absorbed as before in what was going on. betrays to Azzo the secret of her love for Ugo. but suddenly his purpose was arrested.observed the sleeper slowly arise and approach the Greek girl. Franz now listened to it for the third time. burst into a fit of laughter. he awakens his guilty wife to tell her that he knows her guilt and to threaten her with his vengeance. expressive and terrible conceptions that has ever emanated from the fruitful pen of Donizetti. so that. The countenance of the person who had addressed her remained so completely in the shade. his hands fell by his sides. Franz rose with the audience. his countenance being fully revealed. thrilled through the soul of Franz with an effect equal to his first emotions upon hearing it. All doubt of his identity was now at an end. for the countess. who turned around to say a few words to him. and whose voice and figure had seemed so familiar to him. 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. and begged to know what had happened. and the half-uttered "bravos" expired on his lips. I must now beseech you to inform me who and what is her husband?" 342 . until conviction seizes on his mind. totally unheeding her raillery. though Franz tried his utmost. Franz had no difficulty in recognizing him as the mysterious inhabitant of Monte Cristo. after gazing with a puzzled look at his face. The occupant of the box in which the Greek girl sat appeared to share the universal admiration that prevailed. enthusiastic applause that followed. The injured husband goes through all the emotions of jealousy. leaning forward again on the railing of her box. in a frenzy of rage and indignation. The surprise and agitation occasioned by this full confirmation of Franz's former suspicion had no doubt imparted a corresponding expression to his features. his singular host evidently resided at Rome. "Countess. and the attention of Franz was attracted by the actors. that. while sleeping.

after the countess had a second time directed her lorgnette at the box. he looks more like a corpse permitted by some friendly grave-digger to quit his tomb for a while. and the father of a yet more unfortunate family. taking up the lorgnette. for heaven's sake." said the countess. "what do you think of our opposite neighbor?" "Why. as though an involuntary shudder passed through her veins."Nay. of course: "The son of an ill-fated sire." "And I can well understand. Oh." This fresh allusion to Byron* drew a smile to Franz's countenance. than anything human. and directing it toward the box in question. "that you entertain any fear?" 343 . or what?" "I fancy I have seen him before. xxii. I cannot permit you to go. ch. rising from his seat. and I even think he recognizes me.) "Is it possible. another." replied Franz. I depend upon you to escort me home." inquired Franz. or a resuscitated corpse. shrugging up her beautiful shoulders. no. "I must positively find out who and what he is. seems to me as though he had just been dug up. that he is no other than Lord Ruthven himself in a living form. "that those who have once seen that man will never be likely to forget him. although he could but allow that if anything was likely to induce belief in the existence of vampires. "Then you know him?" almost screamed the countess. felt the same unaccountable awe and misgiving." — The Abbot." continued the countess. and wholly uninterested person. he is always as colorless as you now see him. "All I can say is." The sensation experienced by Franz was evidently not peculiar to himself. indeed. pray do." (* Scott." answered the countess." "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." said Franz. "I know no more of him than yourself. How ghastly pale he is!" "Oh. bore in his looks that cast of inauspicious melancholy by which the physiognomists of that time pretended to distinguish those who were predestined to a violent and unhappy death." said Franz. tell us all about — is he a vampire. whose history I am unable to furnish. and revisit this earth of ours. "Oh. "that the gentleman. it would be the presence of such a man as the mysterious personage before him. "No. "you must not leave me." whispered Franz. "Well." cried the countess.

her own return before the appointed hour seemed greatly to astonish the servants. No doubt she belongs to the same horrible race he does. Franz could even feel her arm tremble as he assisted her into the carriage. while the terror of the countess sprang from an instinctive belief. for many reasons. — the same ghastly paleness. I say. "do not smile. like himself. too. "Excuse my little subterfuge. that her uneasiness was not feigned." said the countess. but to-night you neither can nor shall."I'll tell you. as it arose from a variety of corroborative recollections. he is the exact personification of what I have been led to expect! The coal-black hair. and if to-morrow your curiosity still continues as great. open the door of the box." "What is it?" "Promise me. Upon arriving at her hotel. Franz perceived that she had deceived him when she spoke of expecting company." There was nothing else left for Franz to do but to take up his hat. I have a party at my house to-night. It was quite evident. She is a foreigner — a stranger. "and do not be so very headstrong. in reply to her companion's half-reproachful observation on the subject. However. and even assured me that he had seen them. and I am sure it does not spring from your heart. Then observe. "Listen to me. and therefore cannot possibly remain till the end of the opera. by her manner. "Byron had the most perfect belief in the existence of vampires. originally created in her mind by the wild tales she had listened to till she believed them truths. large bright. Oh. on the contrary. a dealer in magical arts. Now. and offer the countess his arm." 344 . promise me one thing. "Nay. or where she comes from. and is." Franz protested he could not defer his pursuit till the following day. pursue your researches if you will. For that purpose I mean to keep you all to myself." said she." said the countess. unearthly fire seems burning. I entreat of you not to go near him — at least to-night. and Franz himself could not resist a feeling of superstitious dread — so much the stronger in him. 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. The description he gave me perfectly corresponds with the features and character of the man before us." Franz essayed to smile. and I longed to be alone." answered the countess. I am going home. Nobody knows who she is. "but that horrid man had made me feel quite uncomfortable. glittering eyes. that the woman with him is altogether unlike all others of her sex. in which a wild. it ill accords with the expression of your countenance. that I might compose my startled mind.

her reputation would be gone forever. I did not expect to see you before to-morrow. listlessly extended on a sofa. and that is down below. if I can 345 . "is it really you? Why." cried he. and have really nothing to conceal. For my own part. then. Besides." "Let us only speak of the promise you wished me to make. Why." So saying. if a Parisian were to indulge in a quarter of these marks of flattering attention. you must give me your word to return immediately to your hotel. the countess quitted Franz. 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." "Upon my soul." "And the very reason why the women of this fine country put so little restraint on their words and actions. here — they give you their hand — they press yours in return — they keep up a whispering conversation — permit you to accompany them home. I met them in the lobby after the conclusion of the piece. go to your rooms. Upon his return to the hotel. Franz found Albert in his dressing-gown and slippers."I will do anything you desire. but I can readily tell you where he is going to. leaving him unable to decide whether she were merely amusing herself at his expense. that you entertain a most erroneous notion concerning Italian women. There are certain affinities between the persons we quit and those we meet afterwards. For heaven's sake. these women would puzzle the very Devil to read them aright. "Well. is because they live so much in public. for my part. and make no attempt to follow this man to-night. "I am glad of this opportunity to tell you. springing up. "My dear fellow. and hang me. good-night. from whence he came. except relinquish my determination of finding out who this man is." said Franz. you must have perceived that the countess was really alarmed. without the least doubt. I am quite sure I shall not be able to close my eyes. or whether her fears and agitations were genuine. and whither he is going. once and forever. I have more reasons than you can imagine for desiring to know who he is. but never bring him near me. if you would not see me die of terror. Why. and try to sleep away all recollections of this evening." "My dear Albert." "At what? At the sight of that respectable gentleman sitting opposite to us in the same box with the lovely Greek girl? Now." replied Franz." "Where he comes from I am ignorant. smoking a cigar. And now. do not serve as a conductor between that man and me. Pursue your chase after him to-morrow as eagerly as you please.

hearken to me. I was arranging a little surprise for you. you know it is quite impossible to procure a carriage." "I listen. for he well remembered that Albert particularly prided himself on the entire absence of color in his own complexion. I knew that from the mixture of Greek words. Of what nature?" "Why. then." "He spoke the Romaic language." "Certainly." said Franz. He was rather too pale. do you not. "I tell you what. they are made by a first-rate Paris tailor — probably Blin or Humann. I can assure you that this hobgoblin of yours is a deuced fine-looking fellow — admirably dressed. paleness is always looked upon as a strong proof of aristocratic descent and distinguished breeding." "And I promise to give you the satisfaction of a gentleman if your scheme turns out as ingenious as you assert. that tends to confirm my own ideas." "You agree." Franz looked at Albert as though he had not much confidence in the suggestions of his imagination. and I also know that we have done all that human means afforded to endeavor to get one." cried Albert." murmured Franz." "Neither can we procure horses?" "True.guess where you took your notions of the other world from." "Well." "That settles it. but they were uttered in the Romaic dialect. but have failed. nothing. I feel quite sure. I don't know whether I ever told you that when I was at college I was rather — rather strong in Greek. did he?" "I think so. "'Tis he. we have offered any sum. "Well. then. "that the countess's suspicions were destitute alike of sense and reason." 346 ." Franz smiled. from the cut of his clothes. Sir Franz. that obtaining a carriage is out of the question?" "I do. Indeed." "What do you say?" "Nothing. "you deserve to be called out for such a misgiving and incredulous glance as that you were pleased to bestow on me just now. Did he speak in your hearing? and did you catch any of his words?" "I did." "Now. certainly. past all doubt. you know. what were you thinking about when I came in?" "Oh. in this difficulty a bright idea has flashed across my brain. but then." "Indeed. But tell me.

"A mere masque borrowed from our own festivities. and if you and I dress ourselves as Neapolitan reapers. "Certainly — certainly. and the head of Signor Pastrini appeared." "Oh. he told me there would not be time. what do you say to a cart? I dare say such a thing might be had." "Very possibly. mine host. and I then explained to him what I wished to procure." "Then you see. too. trot at the heels of your processions." asked Albert eagerly. ye Romans! you thought to make us. "this time." cried Franz. I am bound to give you credit for having hit upon a most capital idea." "And a pair of oxen?" "As easily found as the cart. But you don't know us. The cart must be tastefully ornamented. because no carriages or horses are to be had in your beggarly city." "Gone out in search of our equipage. now." "Now. He assured me that nothing would be easier than to furnish all I desired." "And where is he now?" "Who?" "Our host. Our group would then be quite complete. more especially as the countess is quite beautiful enough to represent a madonna. so you see we must do without this little superfluity." At this instant the door opened. It would add greatly to the effect if the countess would join us in the costume of a peasant from Puzzoli or Sorrento. Albert. when I bade him have the horns of the oxen gilded. "Come in." replied Albert with gratified pride." "Then he will be able to give us an answer to-night. "Permesso?" inquired he. we may get up a striking tableau. Upon my return home I sent for him. after the manner of that splendid picture by Leopold Robert." "And quite a national one. with a cart and a couple of oxen our business can be managed. as it would require three days to do that." "And have you communicated your triumphant idea to anybody?" "Only to our host. like so many lazzaroni. Ha. by to-morrow it might be too late. then. unhappy strangers. ha. when we can't have one thing we invent another. "have you found the desired cart and oxen?" 347 ." said Franz." "Well. I expect him every minute. One thing I was sorry for."Well. my good fellow.

"begs these gentlemen's permission to wait upon them as their neighbor. from the Count of Monte Cristo to Viscomte Albert de Morcerf and M." responded the landlord." returned Signor Pastrini in a tone indicative of unbounded self-confidence. and." exclaimed Albert. and he will be honored by an intimation of what time they will please to receive him. "that the Count of Monte Cristo is living on the same floor with yourselves!" "I should think we did know it. "that if this person merited the high panegyrics of our landlord. but this I know. there's a worthy fellow. then. "there is not much to find fault with here. Franz. my worthy host. "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." continued the servant. swelling with importance. like two poor students in the back streets of Paris. placing two cards in the landlord's hands." 348 . wearing a livery of considerable style and richness." "Let your excellencies only leave the matter to me."Better than that!" replied Signor Pastrini. "Come in." whispered Albert." asked Albert. appeared at the threshold. speaking in an undertone to Albert. Franz d'Epinay. The Count of Monte Cristo. the Count of Monte Cristo." "It seems to me." said Franz. hearing of the dilemma in which you are placed. and not permitted it to be brought to us in this unceremonious way. he said. "better is a sure enemy to well. "since it is owing to that circumstance that we are packed into these small rooms." "Faith. "But do you think. "A very great nobleman." "When. but whether Maltese or Sicilian I cannot exactly say. He would have written — or" — At this instant some one knocked at the door. "But what have you done?" asked Franz. "Please to deliver these. that he is noble as a Borghese and rich as a gold-mine. has sent to offer you seats in his carriage and two places at his windows in the Palazzo Rospoli. he would have conveyed his invitation through another channel. A servant. "Take care." "Your excellencies are aware. with the air of a man perfectly well satisfied with himself." The friends looked at each other with unutterable surprise. "Speak out." said Albert. who forthwith presented them to the two young men." said Franz.

the windows in the Palazzo Rospoli alone decided me." "Oh. by way of recompense for the loss of our beautiful scheme. and by its power was able to render himself invisible. "You were quite correct in what you said. you are much too late. "that we will do ourselves the pleasure of calling on him. What say you. Signor Pastrini. possessed the ring of Gyges. it was very certain he could not escape this time. Signor Pastrini. who presented himself with his accustomed obsequiousness. The next day must clear up every doubt. and unless his near neighbor and would-be friend. and in waking speculations as to what the morrow would produce. was still soundly asleep. then he should be able to establish his identity. 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 truth was. "That is what I call an elegant mode of attack. Franz passed the night in confused dreams respecting the two meetings he had already had with his mysterious tormentor." asked Franz. 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." replied Albert. The Count of Monte Cristo is unquestionably a man of first-rate breeding and knowledge of the world. in which the stranger in the cloak had undertaken to obtain the freedom of a condemned criminal." The servant bowed and retired. the Count of Monte Cristo. "is not some execution appointed to take place to-day?" "Yes. I don't know but what I should have held on by my original plan. 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." said Albert. I might have done so from Monte Pincio — could I not?" 349 . "Of course we do." answered Franz. while Albert. Eight o'clock found Franz up and dressed. and also to prosecute his researches respecting him with perfect facility and freedom."Tell the count. "I had no such intention. but if your reason for inquiry is that you may procure a window to view it from. "Pray. who had not the same motives for early rising. Franz?" "Oh. and even if I had felt a wish to witness the spectacle. no." "Then you accept his offer?" said the host. "Still. I agree with you. your excellency." replied Franz. The first act of Franz was to summon his landlord.

"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. your excellency! Only a few minutes ago they brought me the tavolettas. dear. taking the tablet from the wall. "I did not think it likely your excellency would have chosen to mingle with such a rabble as are always collected on that hill."Ah!" exclaimed mine host. give me some particulars of to-day's executions. "Oh. and description of the death they are to die. "I have caused one to be placed on the landing. your excellency. opening the door of the chamber. that in case any person staying at my hotel should like to witness an execution." "And these tablets are brought to you that you may add your prayers to those of the faithful." "Nothing can be easier than to comply with your excellency's wish. The reason for so publicly announcing all this is. no. and he brings them to me as he would the playbills. beseech of heaven to grant them a sincere repentance. who read as follows: — 350 ." said the landlord. their crimes. their names. the number of persons condemned to suffer. close by your apartment. indeed. and mode of punishment. they consider as exclusively belonging to themselves. your excellency! I have not time for anybody's affairs but my own and those of my honorable guests." Then." "Very possibly I may not go." "What are they?" "Sort of wooden tablets hung up at the corners of streets the evening before an execution. Signor Pastrini. and you may rely upon me to proclaim so striking a proof of your attention to your guests wherever I go." returned the landlord." "What particulars would your excellency like to hear?" "Why. Meanwhile. "but in case I feel disposed. he may obtain every requisite information concerning the time and place etc. above all. he handed it to Franz. are they?" asked Franz somewhat incredulously. and." "I see that plainly enough." "Upon my word. which. that is a most delicate attention on your part." "That happens just lucky. but I make an agreement with the man who pastes up the papers. on which is pasted up a paper containing the names of the condemned persons." cried Franz. that all good and faithful Catholics may offer up their prayers for the unfortunate culprits." answered Franz. chuckling and rubbing his hands with infinite complacency. "Why. my most excellent host. oblige me by a sight of one of these tavolettas.

the second culprit beheaded. upon the door being opened by a servant. named Andrea Rondola. and Franz deemed it advisable to awaken Albert. and his band. and the latter convicted of being an accomplice of the atrocious and sanguinary bandit." "Let us go and return our best thanks for his courtesy. and mode of punishment." 351 . the former found guilty of the murder of a venerable and exemplary priest." said Franz. no doubt. In all probability. which was all that separated them from the apartments of the count. let us do so. that it may please God to awaken them to a sense of their guilt. John Lateran. are you ready. "I signori Francesi. The prayers of all good Christians are entreated for these unfortunate men. Luigi Vampa. and Peppino. being the first day of the Carnival. The anticipated delights of the Carnival had so run in his head as to make him leave his pillow long before his usual hour. then. addressing his landlord. their crimes. named Don Cesare Torlini." "Well. all agreed with his previous information. therefore. of two persons. do you think we may proceed at once to visit the Count of Monte Cristo?" "Most assuredly. — the names of the condemned persons. the Transteverin was no other than the bandit Luigi Vampa himself." but who. by order of the Tribunal of the Rota. and. "The Count of Monte Cristo is always an early riser. rang at the bell. and I can answer for his having been up these two hours. Albert?" "Perfectly." "Then you really consider we shall not be intruding if we pay our respects to him directly?" "Oh. was still pursuing his philanthropic expedition in Rome. and to grant them a hearty and sincere repentance for their crimes. "Now. I am quite sure." replied he. The first-named malefactor will be subjected to the mazzuola. however. No part of the programme differed." "Yes. otherwise called Rocca Priori. canon of the church of St. executions will take place in the Piazza del Popolo. Time was getting on. as he had already done at Porto-Vecchio and Tunis. I will take all the blame on myself if you find I have led you into an error."`The public is informed that on Wednesday. if it be so. but at the moment he prepared to proceed to his chamber. "since we are both ready. February 23d. said. and the man shrouded in the mantle the same he had known as "Sinbad the Sailor. my excellent Signor Pastrini.'" This was precisely what Franz had heard the evening before in the ruins of the Colosseum." The landlord preceded the friends across the landing. his friend entered the room in perfect costume for the day.

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




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




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." "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 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 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." "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; 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 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?" "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?" "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." "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 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 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 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. "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


"I shall fix myself at Rome for six weeks.San Giacomo." "You know how imperfectly the women of the mezzo cito are educated in Italy?" (This is the name of the lower class. he was to-night like everybody else. my opinion is still the same. He hastened with Franz to seat himself. also. "Take care. He had started the previous evening. in reality. be sure to fasten a knot of rose-colored ribbons to the shoulder of your harlequin costume." cried Franz. Look at the writing. I adore Rome. "All the nobility of Rome will be present.) "Yes. "what do you think of that?" "I think that the adventure is assuming a very agreeable appearance. read the letter again. He was charming. "Well. Whether he kept a watch over himself. as he returned the letter. the Count of Monte Cristo was announced. and I have always had a great taste for archaeology. but also return to Florence alone. in order that you may be recognized. Albert's love had not taken away his appetite." Doubtless Albert was about to discuss seriously his right to the academic chair when they were informed that dinner was ready. or whether by accident he did not sound the acrimonious chords that in other circumstances had been touched. Until then you will not see me." "Come." "You alarm me.) "You are born to good fortune. any blemish in the language or orthography. charming. she must go there. free to recommence the discussion after dinner. The man was an 375 . and had only returned an hour since." replied Albert. Signor Pastrini informed them that business had called him to Civita Vecchia." said Albert. Constancy and Discretion." Franz and Albert had received that morning an invitation from the celebrated Roman banker. "I am in love. two or three more such adventures. and if your fair incognita belong to the higher class of society. "You have read the letter?" "Yes." (The writing was. "Laugh as much as you will." "If my unknown be as amiable as she is beautiful." "I think so. and find if you can. and the orthography irreproachable. They had not seen him for two days." replied Albert. and I do not despair of seeing you a member of the Academy." said Franz." "Whether she goes there or not. "and I very much fear you will go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's ball." asked he." "Well. After dinner. when Franz had finished." said Franz. at least. "I see that I shall not only go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's." returned Albert. Albert.

he informed the countess of the great event which had 376 . the fear of being disagreeable to the man who had loaded him and his friend with kindness prevented him from mentioning it. And. In consequence. but even think of him without imagining his stern head upon Manfred's shoulders. and yet he had not let fall a single word indicating any previous acquaintance between them. with his eccentric character. that is. we will not say see him. and his colossal fortune. or beneath Lara's helmet. but in paying visits and conversing. and. This assurance determined the two friends to accept it. or rather the principal quality of which was the pallor. as he was going to the Palli Theatre. The count had learned that the two friends had sent to secure a box at the Argentina Theatre. and he had no doubt but that. Franz was less enthusiastic. but the count replied that. The Countess G—— wished to revive the subject of the count. He could not refrain from admiring the severe beauty of his features. The count was no longer young. The count must feel sure that Franz recognized him. the box at the Argentina Theatre would be lost if they did not profit by it. but the count exercised over him also the ascendency a strong mind always acquires over a mind less domineering. Franz had by degrees become accustomed to the count's pallor. Franz and Albert made some difficulty. he brought them the key of his own — at least such was the apparent motive of his visit. 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. His forehead was marked with the line that indicates the constant presence of bitter thoughts. the count seemed to have the power of fascination. The evening passed as evenings mostly pass at Italian theatres. a Byronic hero! Franz could not. Truly. however great Franz's desire was to allude to their former interview. He was at least forty. And yet he did not wish to be at Paris when the count was there. to complete his resemblance with the fantastic heroes of the English poet. He thought several times of the project the count had of visiting Paris. and yet it was easy to understand that he was formed to rule the young men with whom he associated at present. not in listening to the music. Albert was constantly expatiating on their good fortune in meeting such a man. the only defect. which had so forcibly struck him at their first meeting. in spite of Albert's demonstrations of false modesty. his characteristic face. he would produce a great effect there. but Franz announced he had something far newer to tell her. he had the fiery eyes that seem to penetrate to the very soul.enigma to Franz. and were told they were all let. On his side. alleging their fear of depriving him of it.

Almost instantly. but congratulated Albert on his success. the tumult became greater. Albert was triumphant in his harlequin costume. to announce that the street was clear. if we may credit travellers.preoccupied them for the last three days. On Tuesday. a single dispute. eggs. galloped up the Corso in order to clear it for the barberi. and a hail of sweetmeats. On Tuesday. in the midst of a tremendous and general outcry. then the trampling of horses and the clashing of steel were heard. who crowded amongst the horses' feet and the carriage wheels without a single accident. In order that there might be no confusion. All these evolutions are executed with an inconceivable address and marvellous rapidity. or a single fight. The author of this history. As similar intrigues are not uncommon in Italy. and nosegays. From two o'clock till five Franz and Albert followed in the fete. made up of a thunder of cries. who has resided five or six years in Italy. fifteen abreast. A detachment of carbineers. without the police interfering in the matter. a single tongue that was silent. 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. to meet at the Duke of Bracciano's ball. at the windows. excited by the shouts of three hundred thousand spectators. Then the 377 . or enthusiasm. It was a human storm. When the detachment arrived at the Piazza di Venezia. a second volley of fireworks was discharged. There was not on the pavement. At three o'clock the sound of fireworks. all those who through want of money. passed by like lightning. the last and most tumultuous day of the Carnival. like the moccoli. upon separating. The heroine of the bouquet kept her word. as Lent begins after eight at night. flowers. to which all Rome was invited. have not been to see the Carnival before. The fetes are veritable pleasure days to the Italians. A knot of rose-colored ribbons fell from his shoulder almost to the ground. and contribute to the noise and excitement. They promised. Franz wore his peasant's costume. The races. a single arm that did not move. does not recollect to have ever seen a ceremony interrupted by one of those events so common in other countries. in the carriages. and retired by the adjacent streets. exchanging handfuls of confetti with the other carriages and the pedestrians. the theatres open at ten o'clock in the morning. As the day advanced. time. oranges. At length Tuesday came. mingle in the gayety. The pedestrians ranged themselves against the walls. she gave Albert no sign of her existence the morrow or the day after. At the sound of the fireworks the carriages instantly broke ranks. are one of the episodes peculiar to the last days of the Carnival. the comtess did not manifest the least incredulity. seven or eight horses.

sent them rolling in the street. It was a signal. and secondly. The steps were crowded with masks. a firstrate pugilist. two or three stars began to burn among the crowd. and Aquilo the heir-presumptive to the throne. how to keep his own moccoletto alight. or moccoletti. But he has discovered a thousand means of taking it away. descending from the Palazzo di Venezia to the Piazza del Popolo. Immediately. the superhuman fans. and the immense stream again continued its course between its two granite banks. This battle of folly and flame continued for two hours. at length it pointed to seven. The moccoli. every one blowing. Every one hastened to purchase moccoletti — Franz and Albert among the rest. bearing his moccoletto in his hand. and continued his course towards the church of San Giacomo. but Albert. and mounting from the Piazzo del Popolo to the Palazzo di Venezia. Albert sprang out. the monstrous extinguishers. The night was rapidly approaching. extinguishing. without any other signal. The sellers of moccoletti entered on the scene. Had old AEolus appeared at this moment. and which give to each actor in the great final scene of the Carnival two very serious problems to grapple with. — first. the features of the spectators on the third and fourth stories were visible. and the devil has somewhat aided him. flowing on towards the Corso. the Transteverin the citizen. down all the streets. the Corso was light as day. Franz 378 . who strove to snatch each other's torches. The moccoletto is kindled by approaching it to a light. are candles which vary in size from the pascal taper to the rushlight. A new source of noise and movement was added to the crowd. The facchino follows the prince. It is impossible to form any idea of it without having seen it. The two friends were in the Via dei Pontefici. he would have been proclaimed king of the moccoli. and that one comes from God. which again flow into the parent river. Every five minutes Albert took out his watch. It seemed like the fete of jack-o'-lanterns. But who can describe the thousand means of extinguishing the moccoletto? — the gigantic bellows. like torrents pent up for a while.Castle of Saint Angelo fired three cannon to indicate that number three had won. the carriages moved on. Suppose that all the stars had descended from the sky and mingled in a wild dance on the face of the earth. one after the other. how to extinguish the moccoletti of others. at the cry of "Moccoletti!" repeated by the shrill voices of a thousand vendors. At the end of ten minutes fifty thousand lights glittered. The moccoletto is like life: man has found but one means of transmitting it. and already. the whole accompanied by cries that were never heard in any other part of the world. Two or three masks strove to knock his moccoletto out of his hand. relighting.

wearing the well-known costume of a peasant woman. nothing hostile passed.followed Albert with his eyes. without doubt. but at length he lost sight of them in the Via Macello. No sound was audible save that of the carriages that were carrying the maskers home. Franz was too far off to hear what they said. but. It seemed as though one immense blast of the wind had extinguished every one. snatched his moccoletto from him without his offering any resistance. nothing was visible save a few lights that burnt behind the windows. Franz found himself in utter darkness. Suddenly the bell that gives the signal for the end of the carnival sounded. 379 . He watched them pass through the crowd for some time. Instantly a mask. and at the same instant all the moccoletti were extinguished as if by enchantment. for he saw Albert disappear arm-in-arm with the peasant girl. The Carnival was over. and saw him mount the first step.

It seemed as though Rome. the duchess. the moon.Chapter 37 The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian. He therefore dined very silently. Franz replied that he had left him at 380 . stopped before the Hotel de Londres. so rapid a transition from gayety to sadness. for eleven o'clock. and their first question on his arrival was to inquire the whereabouts of his travelling companion. and the silence which had succeeded the turmoil. which added yet more to the intensity of the darkness. does its honors with the most consummate grace. had left in Franz's mind a certain depression which was not free from uneasiness. Franz resolved to wait for Albert as late as possible. and at the end of ten minutes his carriage. and the streets which the young man traversed were plunged in the deepest obscurity. or rather the count's. Franz and Albert had brought to Rome letters of introduction to them. therefore. Dinner was waiting. The house of the Duke of Bracciano is one of the most delightful in Rome. perhaps. who had been accustomed to see them dine together. had suddenly changed into a vast tomb. Franz had never before experienced so sudden an impression. At eleven o'clock Albert had not come back. in spite of the officious attention of his host. who presented himself two or three times to inquire if he wanted anything. Signor Pastrini. as in this moment. The sudden extinction of the moccoletti. Franz dressed himself. He ordered the carriage. desiring Signor Pastrini to inform him the moment that Albert returned to the hotel. the darkness which had replaced the light. one of the last heiresses of the Colonnas. Franz sat down without him. but as Albert had told him that he should not return so soon. which was on the wane. and went out. inquired into the cause of his absence. did not rise until eleven o'clock. In his whole life. telling his host that he was going to pass the night at the Duke of Bracciano's. but Franz merely replied that Albert had received on the previous evening an invitation which he had accepted. and thus their fetes have a European celebrity. By a chance. under the magic breath of some demon of the night. The distance was short.

" asked the countess." "You should not have allowed him to go. "Then he has not returned?" said the duke. "this is a bad day. on the contrary. what could happen to him?" "Who can tell? The night is gloomy." "I am not speaking. unless it be to go to a ball?" "Our friend. is it not." said the duke with a smile. who know Rome better than he does. and the women of falling ill of jealousy at seeing you so lovely. or rather a bad night. "I think. the duke's brother." "Is he armed?" "He is in masquerade. "and whom I have not seen since." "You might as well have tried to stop number three of the barberi. "I informed them at the hotel that I had the honor of passing the night here. "and desired them to come and inform me of his return." said the duke to Franz. countess. that it is a charming night. "you. countess!" These words were addressed to the Countess G—— ." replied the countess. who had just arrived. Albert de Morcerf. and that he had lost sight of him in the Via Macello. I think it was something very like a rendezvous. and the Tiber is very near the Via Macello. however." "And don't you know where he is?" "Not at all. "of the persons who are here. duke. "here I think." "Ah." said Franz. "who is out in the streets of Rome at this hour." "Diavolo!" said the duke. who gained the prize in the race to-day. is one of my servants who is seeking you." "Ah." 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." said Franz. whom I left in pursuit of his unknown about seven o'clock this evening.the moment they were about to extinguish the moccoli. not precisely." replied Franz. the men run no other danger than that of falling in love with you. and was leaning on the arm of Signor Torlonia." 381 ." replied the duke. "and those who are here will complain of but one thing — its too rapid flight. "And do you know whither he went?" "No. "and then moreover. to be out late. I meant persons who were out in the streets of Rome." replied Franz. "I waited for him until this hour.

He went up to him. as if to keep on his guard." "Then it is to your excellency that this letter is addressed. to his extreme astonishment." he said. otherwise I cannot answer as to what I may do myself.The duke was not mistaken." "Oh. the stranger first addressed him. retreating a step or two. "Your excellency." "I will hasten." Franz took his hat and went away in haste. "Yes." "Is there any answer?" inquired Franz." replied Franz." inquired Franz. when he saw Franz. He had no doubt that it was the messenger from Albert. if it is not any serious affair. "Shall we see you again to give us any information?" inquired the countess. "go with all speed — poor young man! Perhaps some accident has happened to him. The man was wrapped up in a large cloak." said the countess to Franz. pray be assured of that." "Your excellency's name" — "Is the Baron Franz d'Epinay." "And where is the messenger?" "He went away directly he saw me enter the ball-room to find you. which is on one side in the Corso. "from the Viscount of Morcerf?" "Your excellency lodges at Pastrini's hotel?" "I do. but. Franz saw a man in the middle of the street. "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. the servant came up to him." "Be prudent. fortunately the Palazzo Bracciano. 382 . "Are not you the person who brought me a letter. taking the letter from him. in any event." "Your excellency is the travelling companion of the viscount?" "I am." "And who is the man?" "I do not know." "Why did he not bring it to me here?" "The messenger did not say. "Oh. He had sent away his carriage with orders for it to fetch him at two o'clock. As he came near the hotel. "What wants your excellency of me?" inquired the man." "A letter from the viscount!" exclaimed Franz. and on the other in the Square of the Holy Apostles. "Yes." said the countess. is hardly ten minutes' walk from the Hotel de Londres.

Run to Torlonia. the following in Italian: — Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono nelle mie mani. Albert de Morcerf. Below these lines were written. "Well — what?" responded Franz. then." "Come up-stairs with me." "Shall I find you here. alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di vivere. — The moment you have received this." Franz entered the hotel. if you please. had fallen into the hands of the famous bandit chief. which you will find in the square drawer of the secretary. "Yes. I do not say more. have the kindness to take the letter of credit from my pocket-book. in whose existence he had for so long a time refused 383 ." The inn-keeper gave orders to a servant to go before Franz with a light.S. Luigi Vampa. — I now believe in Italian banditti. "and he has handed this letter to me. and I will give it to you. "Well?" said the landlord. and unfolded it. I have seen him." said the messenger. and this had only made him the more anxious to read Albert's letter. add your own to it. "And why?" "Your excellency will know when you have read the letter. P. It is urgent that I should have this money without delay. and give them to the bearer. It was thus worded: — My Dear Fellow. "You have seen the man who desired to speak with you from your friend?" he asked of Franz. the street was safer for him." he replied. "If by six in the morning the four thousand piastres are not in my hands. The young man had found Signor Pastrini looking very much alarmed."Yes — your friend at least hopes so. On the staircase he met Signor Pastrini. Your friend. who now understood the objection of the messenger to coming up into the apartment. relying on you as you may rely on me." This second signature explained everything to Franz. with a smile. if it be not sufficient. It was written and signed by Albert. draw from him instantly four thousand piastres. then?" "Certainly." "I prefer waiting here. Albert. Franz read it twice before he could comprehend what it contained. Light the candles in my apartment. and so he went instantly towards the waxlight. by seven o'clock the Count Albert will have ceased to live. in a strange hand.

"Well. about to return to the Palazzo Bracciano without loss of time." Franz went along the corridor." "A serious matter. I have come to speak to you of a very serious matter. therefore. The count came towards him. "and what may it be?" "Are we alone?" "Yes. Thus seven or eight hundred piastres were wanting to them both to make up the sum that Albert required. and request him to be so kind as to give me an audience. and had only come to Rome to pass seven or eight days. "`Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono nelle mie mani. "`Luigi Vampa. True. when suddenly a luminous idea crossed his mind. and found the pocket-book in the drawer. and of these he had not more than fifty left. The count read it. "My dear sir. he had brought but a hundred louis. he might in such a case rely on the kindness of Signor Torlonia. Franz was about to ring for Signor Pastrini." said the count. looking at Franz with the earnestness usual to him. when that worthy presented himself." replied the count. your excellency. "Well. Franz gave him Albert's letter. and in it the letter of credit. There were in all six thousand piastres. He was." he said. he has this moment returned. going to the believe. "have you come to sup with me? It would be very kind of you. if you please. and returning five minutes after. he had no letter of credit." "No. — "The count awaits your excellency. alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di vivere." "Then ring at his door. He was in a small room which Franz had not yet seen. as he lived at Florence. He hastened to open the secretary. but of these six thousand Albert had already expended three thousand. and which was surrounded with divans. There was no time to lose." Signor Pastrini did as he was desired. "Have you the money he demands?" 384 . and returning. hastily. "Did you see the postscript?" "I did. "do you know if the count is within?" "Yes." he said. what good wind blows you hither at this hour?" said he." "Is he in bed?" "I should say no. As to Franz.'" "What think you of that?" inquired Franz. he said. indeed. "Read that. well!" said he. and a servant introduced him to the count. He remembered the Count of Monte Cristo.

well." "I think that if you would take the trouble of reflecting. I come to you first and instantly. to send the money to Luigi Vampa?" asked the young man. opened it. in the same tone in which he would have given 385 . but he will not make any difficulty at entering mine. "If we were to go together to Luigi Vampa. looking fixedly in his turn at the count. perhaps. and whistled in a peculiar manner." "It is useless." replied he. "How so?" returned the count." "To your apartments. I will summon him hither." "I must learn where we are going. he would not come up." The count knit his brows. have what you will. and a walk without Rome will do us both good. I know it. — "I hope you will not offend me by applying to any one but myself. "who told you that?" "No matter. It is a lovely night. said to Franz." said the count." "Shall I take any arms?" "For what purpose?" "Any money?" "It is useless. and remained silent an instant. "and he made a sign to Franz to take what he pleased. "The postscript is explicit. The man in the mantle quitted the wall." The count went to his secretary." replied Franz." said Franz. "And I thank you. all but eight hundred piastres. with surprise. Where is the man who brought the letter?" "In the street." "You see." The count went to the window of the apartment that looked on to the street." "What influence can I possibly have over a bandit?" "Have you not just rendered him a service that can never be forgotten?" "What is that?" "Have you not saved Peppino's life?" "Well. "Judge for yourself. "Salite!" said the count. on the contrary. then. and advanced into the middle of the street. "And if I went to seek Vampa. "Is it absolutely necessary." "He awaits the answer?" "Yes. I am sure he would not refuse you Albert's freedom. and pulling out a drawer filled with gold. would you accompany me?" "If my society would not be disagreeable. you could find a way of simplifying the negotiation."Yes." "Be it so.

Peppino. for it is a week ago. "I am ready to answer any questions your excellency may address to me. "was Luigi Vampa in the carriage with the Roman peasants?" "It was he who drove. then. it was Beppo who was on the steps of the church of San Giacomo." said he." returned Peppino. it is you. mounting the steps at a bound. not forgotten that I saved your life. "But it was no disgrace to your friend to have been deceived." "What?" cried Franz. The messenger obeyed without the least hesitation. "Never? That is a long time." "And Beppo led him outside the walls?" said the count. "Well. with an accent of profound gratitude." "The chief's mistress?" "Yes. did the same. then. "it is necessary to excite this man's confidence." "Good!" returned Peppino." replied Peppino. that is strange. and sat by him." replied Peppino. Beppo got in. excellency. and covered it with kisses." "You can speak before me. and he did not wait to be asked twice. instead of answering. "Ah. "Exactly so." "No. with the chief's consent. Teresa. The Frenchman asked for a rendezvous. He gallantly offered the right-hand seat to Beppo. Rise and answer." Peppino glanced anxiously at Franz. "Oh. disguised as the coachman. Teresa gave him one — only. "Ah. threw himself on his knees. But Peppino. "Well?" said the count. the Frenchman took off his mask. You allow me to give you this title?" continued the count in French." said the count. but rather with alacrity. "he is one of my order to his servant. five seconds afterwards he was at the door of the room. entered the hotel. Beppo has taken in plenty of others. "the peasant girl who snatched his mocoletto from him" — "Was a lad of fifteen." said Franz." said the count." "How did the Viscount Albert fall into Luigi's hands?" "Excellency. Teresa returned it — all this with the consent of the chief. "you have. instead of Teresa. and. a carriage was waiting at the end of the Via Macello. "I am a friend of the count's." "What!" exclaimed Franz. but it is something that you believe so. seized the count's hand. and never shall I forget it. the Frenchman's carriage passed several times the one in which was Teresa. Beppo told him he was going to take him to a villa a league 386 . you may speak before his excellency. The Frenchman threw her a bouquet. who was in the carriage. inviting the Frenchman to follow him.

or after my dinner. day and night." replied Franz. The coachman went up the Via di Ripetta and the Porta San Paola. walk along the banks of the river. and a footman appeared. and the carriage stopped at the door. four of the band. but I have often resolved to visit them. They made him get out. in truth. "it seems to me that this is a very likely story. and was forced to yield. "Oh. You need not awaken the coachman. "if it had happened to any one but poor Albert. but he could not resist five armed men.from Rome. and when they were two hundred yards outside. Have you a carriage?" "No. "Half-past twelve. What do you say to it?" "Why. and I should tell you that sometimes when I rise. I resolve on starting for some particular point. sir." "Always ready?" "Yes. the Frenchman assured him he would follow him to the end of the world. and away I go." "And. and therefore we had better go with all speed to extricate him from the hands of the infidels. and it would be difficult to contrive a better. his alarm will be the only serious consequence. turning towards Franz." he said." "Well. but the delay may cause your friend to pass an uneasy night. but now. decidedly. that I should think it very amusing. who were waiting for him in the catacombs of St. Beppo put a brace of pistols to his head. The count took out his watch. Ali will drive." "And shall we go and find him?" inquired Franz." "Well. as the Frenchman became somewhat too forward. and nearly strangled Beppo." "That is of no consequence." In a very short time the noise of wheels was heard. I always have one ready. "Order out the carriage." said the count. who were concealed on the banks of the Almo. here is an opportunity made to your hand. "it might have proved a gallant adventure which would have cost your friend dear. if you had not found me here." he said. At the same time. "and remove the pistols which are in the holsters. "We might start at five o'clock and be in time. and then brought him to Teresa and Luigi." said the count." The count rang. He is in a very picturesque place — do you know the catacombs of St. The Frenchman made some resistance. I am a very capricious being." 387 . Are you still resolved to accompany me?" "More determined than ever. or in the middle of the night. Sebastian?" "I was never in them. surrounded the carriage. Sebastian. the coachman pulled up and did the same. be assured.

the opening of the catacombs is close at hand. taking with him a torch. Five minutes elapsed. and bordered with tombs. at the distance of a hundred paces. brought with them in the carriage. Franz imagined that he saw something like a sentinel appear at various points among the ruins. Ali had received his instructions. Then the porter raised some difficulties. which seemed like the bristling mane of an enormous lion. "Ought we to go on?" asked Franz of the count. which. then. went up the Strada San Gregorio. and reached the gates of St. lighted his 388 . and the bandit saluted them. "let us follow him. They came to an opening behind a clump of bushes and in the midst of a pile of rocks. and they set off at a rapid pace." One of the two men was Peppino. Peppino passed. Peppino glided first into this crevice. Ali was on the box. Franz and the count got into the carriage. "Your excellency. "Now. "we shall be there. and the other a bandit on the lookout." Franz and the count in their turn then advanced along the same path. after they got along a few paces the passage widened. then. A short time before they reached the Baths of Caracalla the carriage stopped." Franz and the count went downstairs. by which a man could scarcely pass." said the count to his companion. but the Count of Monte Cristo produced a permit from the governor of Rome. "or shall we wait awhile?" "Let us go on. gave him an order in a low voice."Well. Peppino placed himself beside Ali." said Peppino." He then took Peppino aside. "In ten minutes. which began to rise. From time to time. "if you will follow me. At the door they found the carriage. Peppino will have warned the sentry of our coming. and finally he disappeared in the midst of the tall red herbage. during which Franz saw the shepherd going along a narrow path that led over the irregular and broken surface of the Campagna. crossed the Campo Vaccino. and they went on their way." "Go on. Sebastian. They then perceived two men conversing in the obscurity. accompanied by Peppino. the portcullis was therefore raised. and suddenly retreat into the darkness on a signal from Peppino. led them over a declivity to the bottom of a small valley. come along. the porter had a louis for his trouble. in whom Franz recognized the dumb slave of the grotto of Monte Cristo. Franz and the count advanced. addressing the count. The road which the carriage now traversed was the ancient Appian Way. by the light of the moon." replied the count. Peppino opened the door. allowing him to leave or enter the city at any hour of the day or night. and Peppino went away." said the count. and went down the Corso. and the count and Franz alighted.

advancing alone towards the sentry. and on the other into a large square chamber. and was reading with his back turned to the arcades. still Franz and the count were compelled to advance in a stooping posture. Franz and the count descended these. dug into niches. put out the torch. which were arranged one above the other in the shape of coffins. as was evident from the cross which still surmounted them. Five corridors diverged like the rays of a star. "A friend!" responded Peppino. he said a few words to him in a low tone. more evident since Peppino had put out his torch." replied Franz. They went on a hundred and fifty paces in this way. and. The count laid his hand on Franz's shoulder. and turned to see if they came after him. "Who comes there?" At the same time they saw the reflection of a torch on a carbine barrel. This was the chief of the band. which had formerly served as an altar. and found themselves in a mortuary chamber. showed that they were at last in the catacombs. lying in their mantles. Behind the sentinel was a staircase with twenty steps. Peppino. according to their fancy. and the middle one was used as a door. like the first. The passageway sloped in a gentle descent. and then were stopped by. except that fifty paces in advance of them a reddish glare. was visible along the wall. placed at the base of a pillar. 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. however. making a sign that they might proceed. then. "Exceedingly. In the midst of this chamber were four stones. Three arcades were before them. the count guiding Franz as if he had the singular faculty of seeing in the dark. "Come with me. and were scarcely able to proceed abreast of one another. and in groups. and the walls." Peppino obeyed. Around him. A lamp. "Would you like to see a camp of bandits in repose?" he inquired. or with their backs against 389 . The count first reached an open space and Franz followed him closely. A man was seated with his elbow leaning on the column. Luigi Vampa. rays of light were visible.torch. saluted the nocturnal visitors. and Franz and the count were in utter darkness. entirely surrounded by niches similar to those of which we have spoken. through the openings of which the newcomers contemplated him. Franz himself. They advanced silently. These arcades opened on one side into the corridor where the count and Franz were. which served in some manner as a guide. Down one of the corridors. whose extent it was impossible to determine. saw his way more plainly in proportion as he went on towards the light. enlarging as they proceeded. and then he.

your excellency?" "You have this evening carried off and conveyed hither the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. was a sentinel." added the count. while with the other he took off his hat respectfully. In a moment all the bandits were on their feet. scarcely visible." continued the count. he said. in a tone that made Franz shudder." said the count. "Your pardon. but also the conditions you make with them. "that not only my person. and advanced towards Vampa. and conveyed him hither. your excellency?" inquired the bandit. that I did not really recognize you. with the air of a man who. who was walking up and down before a grotto. 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. "well. each having his carbine within reach. "Who comes there?" cried the sentinel. Well. "Well.a sort of stone bench. At the other end. with an imperative sign of the hand. having committed an error." exclaimed the chief. who was less abstracted. drawing at the same moment a pistol from his girdle. and no muscle of his countenance disturbed. but also that of my friends." "What conditions have I forgotten. and yet. to warn him to be silent. silent. taking the letter from his pocket. entered the chamber by the middle arcade. is anxious to repair it. "Was it not agreed." "It seems that your memory is equally short in everything. then. and. and. "you have set a ransom on him. which was only distinguishable because in that spot the darkness seemed more dense than elsewhere. I repeat to you." asked the count. you have carried him off. but I was so far from expecting the honor of a visit. who was so intent on the book before him that he did not hear the noise of his footsteps. and who saw by the lamp-light a shadow approaching his chief. he raised his finger to his lips. your excellency. my dear Vampa. ascending the three steps which led to the corridor of the columbarium. and like a shadow. which went all round the columbarium. Vampa. as if he were an utter stranger." 390 . turning to the singular personage who had caused this scene. should be respected by you?" "And how have I broken that treaty. were to be seen twenty brigands or more. and twenty carbines were levelled at the count." "Ground arms. Vampa rose quickly." said he in a voice perfectly calm. "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. At this challenge. "and that not only do you forget people's faces.

looking round him uneasily. "I am with the person to whom this letter was addressed. who drew back a bolt and opened a door. The count and Franz ascended seven or eight steps after the chief. "I told you there was some mistake in this. by the gleam of a lamp. turning towards Franz. and to whom I desired to prove that Luigi Vampa was a man of his word. and also my reply. and Franz and the count followed him. your excellency. turning towards his men. your excellency. "The prisoner is there. your excellency." The chief went towards the place he had pointed out as Albert's prison. if I thought one of you knew that the young gentleman was the friend of his excellency. "You are right."Why did you not tell me all this — you?" inquired the brigand chief. "this must be one of your friends." he said to him." said Franz. the chief advancing several steps to meet him." "But. "where is the Viscount? — I do not see him." said the count frowningly. who will himself express to you his deep regret at the mistake he has committed." replied the sentry. who all retreated before his look. Then." "Nothing has happened to him. pointing to the hollow space in front of which the bandit was on guard. for the last hour I have not heard him stir. saying. turning to Franz. "Welcome among us. he was not insensible to such a proof of courage." Then going to Albert. 391 . "I do not know. he touched him on the shoulder." "Are you not alone?" asked Vampa with uneasiness. similar to that which lighted the columbarium. I hope. "you heard what the count just said. captain. who has all our lives in his hands? By heavens." said Vampa. I would blow his brains out with my own hand!" "Well. smiling with his own peculiar smile. "Why have you caused me thus to fail in my word towards a gentleman like the count." said the count." the count added." "Come in. let me add that I would not for the four thousand piastres at which I had fixed your friend's ransom. "here is Luigi Vampa. "Ma foi." Vampa looked at Albert with a kind of admiration. that this had happened. "Come." said the count. "Will your excellency please to awaken?" Albert stretched out his arms. "not so bad for a man who is to be shot at seven o'clock to-morrow morning. "What is the prisoner doing?" inquired Vampa of the sentinel." Franz approached. "and I will go myself and tell him he is free. Albert was to be seen wrapped up in a cloak which one of the bandits had lent him. Come. your excellency." replied Vampa. lying in a corner in profound slumber." he said.

" "Come hither?" "Yes. in the first place for the carriage. with perfect ease of mind. captain? You should have allowed me to sleep. and yet here was one whose gay temperament was not for a moment altered. "Why the devil do you rouse me at this hour?" "To tell you that you are free." said he." replied Albert. You may conclude your interrupted galop. then.rubbed his eyelids. my dear Franz. "but our neighbor." "Really? Then that person is a most amiable person. Napoleon's maxim. "Oh. and opened his eyes. and in the next for this visit." "My dear fellow. arranging his cravat and wristbands. your excellency." "Well. then. that he might see how time sped. "if you will make haste. who has. my dear count. not I. and have been grateful to you all my life. indeed." said Albert gayly." said he.' if you had let me sleep on. as for Franz. "you are really most kind. "What. whose devotion and friendship are thus displayed?" "No. `Never awaken me but for bad news. hither. and we may reach the Palazzo by two o'clock. he was enchanted at the way in which Albert had sustained the national honor in the presence of the bandit." and he put out his hand to the Count. he was evidently accustomed to see his prisoners tremble before him. throughout this whole affair acted like a gentleman." "Oh. "is it you." he said. "My dear Albert." continued Albert. they have paid my ransom?" "No. "is there any formality to fulfil before I take leave of your excellency?" 392 ." Then he drew his watch from his pocket. I had such a delightful dream." "You are decidedly right. "Half-past one only?" said he. "is it you. Signor Luigi. "remember. who shuddered as he gave his own. we shall yet have time to finish the night at Torlonia's. your excellency. for the future. I should have finished my galop. so that you will owe no illwill to Signor Luigi. how am I free?" "A person to whom I can refuse nothing has come to demand you." Albert looked around and perceived Franz. the Count of Monte Cristo. but who nevertheless did give it. and I hope you will consider me as under eternal obligations to you." replied Franz. The bandit gazed on this scene with amazement. So. I was dancing the galop at Torlonia's with the Countess G—— .

that one almost feels obliged to you for having committed them." said the Viscount of Morcerf. "Peppino." said the brigand chief. The count said a word in Arabic to Ali. "I am curious to know what work you were perusing with so much attention as we entered. "I will show you the way back myself." replied Franz. "Yes." "Caesar's `Commentaries. It was just two o'clock by Albert's watch when the two friends entered into the dancing-room." replied the bandit. "Ah. "you are as free as air. whose character for veracity you well know. "Yes. "will you allow me. a happy and merry life to you. your pardon. They advanced to the plain. my dear count.'" said the bandit. "Now. come. "perhaps the offer may not appear very tempting to you. "Has your excellency anything to ask me?" said Vampa with a smile. "And now. Come." added he. but if you should ever feel inclined to pay me a second visit." he said. On reaching the door. I am enormously anxious to finish my night at the Duke of Bracciano's. "give me the torch. "besides. all uneasiness on Albert's account ceased instantly. descended the staircase. then. then Albert. are you coming?" asked Albert." And Albert. your excellency. but here is my friend." "Gentlemen. captain?" And he lighted his cigar at Vampa's torch." "No. "that is the least honor that I can render to your excellency. Franz paused for a moment. left the caves. my dear Vampa. The count went out first. where stood all the bandits." and he. wherever I may be. not as a servant who performs an act of civility. "yesterday you were so condescending as to promise me a galop." "Well. crossed the square chamber." replied Franz. but like a king who precedes ambassadors. I have." "Well. gentlemen. "allow me to repeat my apologies." added the chief. hat in hand. and he will assure you the 393 . "it is my favorite work." replied the count. "here I am. you shall be welcome. he bowed. and I hope you will not entertain any resentment at what has occurred." And taking the lighted torch from the hands of the herdsman. he preceded his guests. advancing towards the countess. "let us on with all the speed we may. and the horses went on at great speed. in his turn. turning round."None." Franz and Albert bowed. you compensate for your mistakes in so gentlemanly a way." "What are you going to do?" inquired the count." They found the carriage where they had left it. Their return was quite an event." said Albert. sir. I am rather late in claiming this gracious promise. "Madame. turning towards the young men." said the captain. followed by Franz and the count. but as they entered together.

394 . in some sort. forced to give his hand to Albert." And as at this moment the orchestra gave the signal for the waltz. In the meanwhile Franz was considering the singular shudder that had passed over the Count of Monte Cristo at the moment when he had been. Albert put his arm round the waist of the countess.delay arose from no fault of mine. and disappeared with her in the whirl of dancers.

000 francs. however. that although men get into troublesome scrapes all over the world. namely. which you have been saved out of your travelling expenses. but services such as he had rendered could never be too often acknowledged." replied the count." said Albert. "My dear count. "I deserve no credit for what I could not help." "Upon my word. All that. and. 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. the young man had warmly and energetically thanked the count on the previous evening. I shall never cease to dwell with grateful recollection on the prompt and important service you rendered me. and I now come to ask you whether. true. believe me. the count joined them in the salon. "you really exaggerate my trifling exertions. in my own 395 . so that there is not much of a score between us." said Albert. Franz. "permit me to repeat the poor thanks I offered last night. as long as I live. and to let those bandits see.Chapter 38 The Compact. a determination to take everything as I found it. and also to remember that to you I am indebted even for my life. 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. but at once accompanied him to the desired spot. has nothing to do with my obligations to you. The first words that Albert uttered to his friend. there is no nation but the French that can smile even in the face of grim Death himself. advancing to meet him. with a smile. on the following morning. and therefore made no objection to Albert's request. — but you must really permit me to congratulate you on the ease and unconcern with which you resigned yourself to your fate. in which terror was strangely mingled. You owe me nothing but some trifle of 20." "My very good friend and excellent neighbor. and to assure you that the remembrance of all I owe to you will never be effaced from my memory. who seemed attracted by some invisible influence towards the count. after a short delay.

was compelled to abandon the idea. Your offer. that I do. so necessary a duty." "Oh." replied the count. possesses considerable influence. my dear M." exclaimed Albert. as a millionaire. although of Spanish origin. — nay. but as my motive in travelling to your capital would not have been for the pleasure of dabbling in stocks. far from surprising me." "Monsieur de Morcerf. save that." "So distinguished an individual as yourself. de Morcerf" (these words were accompanied by a most peculiar smile). pray name it. and with infinite pleasure. I will go still further. and. and say that I had previously made up my mind to ask a great favor at your hands. however. but." cried Albert. had I known any person who would have introduced me into the fashionable world. "and so much the more readily as a letter received this morning from my father summons me to Paris. of necessity." "Is it possible. in consequence of a treaty of marriage (my dear 396 ." "I am wholly a stranger to Paris — it is a city I have never yet seen. or connections. but unfortunately I possessed no acquaintance there. and calls for immediate correction." "Nevertheless." answered Albert. "your offer. and I have only to ask you. but as regards myself. Aguado and M. upon my arrival in France. I should have performed so important.person. at your disposal. it is quite true. smooths all difficulties. I stayed away till some favorable chance should present itself of carrying my wish into execution. "whether you undertake. to open to me the doors of that fashionable world of which I know no more than a Huron or a native of CochinChina?" "Oh. my family. "could scarcely have required an introduction." "You are most kind. still. is precisely what I expected from you. "that you have reached your present age without visiting the finest capital in the world? I can scarcely credit it. in all probability. and all to whom my life is dear. and I unhesitatingly place the best services of myself. both at the court of France and Madrid. Rothschild. and I accept it in the same spirit of hearty sincerity with which it is made. I can find no merit I possess. I can in any way serve you? My father. the Comte de Morcerf. I agree with you in thinking that my present ignorance of the first city in Europe is a reproach to me in every way. I might have become a partner in the speculations of M. as that of making myself acquainted with the wonders and beauties of your justly celebrated capital.

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. both inclination and positive necessity compel me to visit Paris. Perhaps by the time you return to Paris. you mean. "Well." replied the count. and connected with the very cream of Parisian society. you see I make an ample allowance for all delays and difficulties. then." "Then it is settled. "it comes to the same thing in the end. as in the present case. is liable to be blown over by the first puff of wind?" "I pledge you my honor. as fast as I can get there!" "Nay." said the Count. "But tell me now. "and I give you my solemn assurance that I only waited an opportunity like the present to realize plans that I have long meditated. 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." exclaimed Albert. never mind how it is." said Albert. in a fortnight or three weeks' time." returned the count.Franz. count. suspended near the chimney-piece." "So be it." "Connected by marriage. "it is exactly half-past 397 ." "When do you propose going thither?" "Have you made up your mind when you shall be there yourself?" "Certainly I have. delighted at the idea of having to chaperon so distinguished a person as Monte Cristo. "that will suit me to a dot. hoping to read something of his purpose in his face. "I will give you three months ere I join you. that is to say. added. and while the Count was speaking the young man watched him closely. hour for hour. "to-day is the 21st of February. "only let me warn you that I am proverbial for my punctilious exactitude in keeping my engagements. do not smile." said the count. my dear count." Franz did not doubt that these plans were the same concerning which the count had dropped a few words in the grotto of Monte Cristo." said Franz. "And in three months' time. like a house built on the sand. and extending his hand towards a calendar. "tell me truly whether you are in earnest. I can only say that you may command me and mine to any extent you please." said Albert. "you will be at my house?" "Shall we make a positive appointment for a particular day and hour?" inquired the count." answered Albert. I beg of you) with a family of high standing. "that I mean to do as I have said. it was veiled in a sphinx-like smile. laughingly." and drawing out his watch. but which. but his countenance was inscrutable especially when. I shall be quite a sober." "Day for day. he said.

ten o'clock." "Now then. for it felt cold and icy as that of a corpse." 398 ." "Where do you live?" "No." "Well. and bowing to the count. as. 27. Now promise me to remember this. returning his tablets to his pocket. baron. but occupy a pavilion at the farther side of the court-yard. on the 21st of May. when they had returned to their own apartments. as I am compelled to go to Naples. half-past ten in the morning. at half-past ten in the morning." "In that case I must say adieu to you." said the count." replied the Count. "Let us understand each other. "it is agreed — is it not? — that you are to be at No. No. at half-past ten in the morning. and your word of honor passed for your punctuality?" "The 21st of May. 21st May." "Shall I see you again ere my departure?" asked Albert. quitted the room. when do you leave?" "To-morrow evening. "What is the matter?" asked Albert of Franz. holding out a hand to each of the young men. 27. "your breakfast shall be waiting. "do you also depart to-morrow?" "Yes. he wrote down "No." said the count." "Then we shall not meet in Paris?" "I fear I shall not have that honor. at five o'clock." "Capital." "Have you bachelor's apartments there? I hope my coming will not put you to any inconvenience. and expect me the 21st of May at the same hour in the forenoon. Rue du Helder. 27." "I reside in my father's house. "That depends. taking out his tablets. "you seem more than commonly thoughtful." It was the first time the hand of Franz had come in contact with that of the mysterious individual before him. I shall remain in Italy for another year or two." pursued the count. addressing Franz. and unconsciously he shuddered at its touch. "allow me to wish you both a safe and pleasant journey." "For France?" "No." replied the count. Rue du Helder." exclaimed Albert. in the Rue du Helder. the hand of your time-piece will not be more accurate in marking the time than myself. 27. Rue du Helder. And you. entirely separated from the main building. for Venice." said Albert." "Quite sufficient. The young men then rose. since we must part. and shall not return hither before Saturday evening or Sunday morning. "make yourself perfectly easy.

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. and the magnificence of his entertainment in the grotto of the "Thousand and One Nights."I will confess to you." "Listen to me." exclaimed Albert. with circumstantial exactitude. at his awakening." said Albert." replied Franz." "Upon your honor?" "Upon my honor. there remained no proof or trace of all these events." "Did you ever meet him previously to coming hither?" "I have. all the particulars of the supper. while he. — an engagement which." said he. seen in the distant horizon driving under full sail toward Porto-Vecchio. between the count and Vampa. Have you anything particular against him?" "Possibly. the dream." "My dear fellow. Then he detailed the conversation overheard by him at the Colosseum. "I am glad that the occasion has presented itself for saying this to you. in which the count had promised to obtain the release of the bandit Peppino. the statues." He recounted. and the appointment you have made to meet him in Paris fills me with a thousand apprehensions. He dwelt with considerable force and energy on the almost magical hospitality he had received from the count. and how. has always been courtesy itself to us. as our readers are aware. on the other hand." "And where?" "Will you promise me not to repeat a single word of what I am about to tell you?" "I promise. "that is the way I feel. save the small yacht. the hashish. Albert. Franz." answered Franz. he most faithfully fulfilled." 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. "the count is a very singular person. and the two Corsican bandits with them. "Well. "what can there possibly be in that to excite uneasiness? Why. Albert listened with the most profound attention." "Whether I am in my senses or not. for I have noticed how cold you are in your bearing towards the count. and finally of his application to the count and the picturesque and satisfactory result that followed. you must have lost your senses. At last he arrived at the adventure of the preceding night." "Then listen to me. 399 . when Franz had concluded.

possesses a vessel of his own. I protest that. — and obtaining a bed on which it is possible to slumber. who have no other motive than plunder when they seize your person. ere even I presented myself to the mayor or prefect. if I could only manage to find them. being rich. instead of condemning him for his intimacy with outlaws. they are a race of men I admire greatly. Just ask yourself. I should never 400 . Go but to Portsmouth or Southampton. and taken its name. How do you explain the influence the count evidently possessed over those ruffians?" "My good friend. it would ill become me to search too closely into its source. which. and thereby depriving him of the advantages naturally expected from so large an outlay of capital. really the thing seems to me simple enough. being translated. Monte Cristo has furnished for himself a temporary abode where you first found him. should I ever go to Corsica. and you will find the harbors crowded with the yachts belonging to such of the English as can afford the expense. and have the same liking for this amusement. Now. avoiding the wretched cookery — which has been trying its best to poison me during the last four months." said Franz. driven by some sinister motive from their native town or village. but certainly for saving me 4. Nobody knows better than yourself that the bandits of Corsica are not rogues or thieves. while you have manfully resisted its effects for as many years. he has wisely enough purchased the island. should be to the bandits of Colomba. most assuredly. you must give me leave to excuse any little irregularity there may be in such a connection."what do you find to object to in all you have related? The count is fond of travelling. as in all probability I own my present safety to that influence.000 piastres. but purely and simply fugitives. and that their fellowship involves no disgrace or stigma. 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." "Still. "the Corsican bandits that were among the crew of his vessel?" "Why.000 livres of our money — a sum at which. not altogether for preserving my life. therefore. for my own idea was that it never was in much danger. "I suppose you will allow that such men as Vampa and his band are regular villains. to prevent the possibility of the Tuscan government taking a fancy to his enchanted palace. by way of having a resting-place during his excursions. my good fellow. my first visit. on my conscience. for. means neither more nor less than 24. but. and." persisted Franz. for my own part.

and 401 ." answered the other. Franz. let us talk of something else. I did not very particularly care to remain. Still.' Was not that nearly what you said?" "It was. And now. and then pay a last visit to St. in spite of all my outward appearance of ease and unconcern. I will readily give him the one and promise the other." replied Franz. I should like to have answered. he merely came and freed me from the hands of Signor Vampa." "He is a philanthropist. I can assure you. If my vote and interest can obtain it for him. given. in your place. as you are aware. the effective arguments were all on Albert's side. when. what is his native tongue. "Well. for services so promptly and unhesitatingly rendered. Now. "that no prophet is honored in his own country." said Franz with a sigh. "when. help me to deliver him." added Albert with a laugh. "do as you please my dear viscount. in spite of all." "No." "Talking of countries. then. upon receipt of my letter. "and no doubt his motive in visiting Paris is to compete for the Monthyon prize. and what were those events of his early life — a life as marvellous as unknown — that have tinctured his succeeding years with so dark and gloomy a misanthropy? Certainly these are questions that. contrary to the usual state of affairs in discussions between the young men. 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." replied Albert. did he put all these questions to you?" "I confess he asked me none. for your arguments are beyond my powers of refutation. "of what country is the count.have been estimated in France. did he ask you. saying. `My friend Albert de Morcerf is in danger. Come. Peter's?" Franz silently assented. whence does he derive his immense fortune. where. you promptly went to him." "My dear Franz. you must have lost your senses to think it possible I could act with such cold-blooded policy. shall we take our luncheon. then. to whoever shall be proved to have most materially advanced the interests of virtue and humanity. `Who is M. 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. proving most indisputably. you must admit that this Count of Monte Cristo is a most singular personage." And this time it must be confessed that. you found the necessity of asking the count's assistance. my dear Franz." "Well.

the following afternoon. beneath the name of Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. on the 21st May. the young men parted. placed in the care of a waiter at the hotel a card to be delivered to the Count of Monte Cristo. fearing that his expected guest might forget the engagement he had entered into. at half-past five o'clock. Rue du Helder.M. half-past ten A. he had written in pencil — "27. Albert. But. on which. ere he entered his travelling carriage." 402 . and Franz d'Epinay to pass a fortnight at Venice. Albert de Morcerf to return to Paris.

built in the heavy style of the imperial architecture. surmounted at intervals by vases filled with flowers. Albert de Morcerf could follow up his researches by means of a small gate. and yet aware that a young man of the viscount's age required the full exercise of his liberty. and two at the back into the garden. however. It was easy to discover that the delicate care of a mother. where Albert had invited the Count of Monte Cristo. who always want to see the world traverse their horizon. It was a little entrance that seemed never to have been opened since the house was built. Two windows only of the pavilion faced the street. everything was being prepared on the morning of the 21st of May to do honor to the occasion. In the house in the Rue du Helder. so entirely was it covered with dust and dirt. in which were the servants' apartments. Albert de Morcerf inhabited a pavilion situated at the corner of a large court.Chapter 39 The Guests. Then. but the well-oiled hinges and locks told quite another story. This door was a mockery to 403 . careless life of an only son. and which merits a particular description. and directly opposite another building. close to the lodge of the concierge. even if that horizon is only a public thoroughfare. similar to that close to the concierge's door. which served as the carriage entrance. was the large and fashionable dwelling of the Count and Countess of Morcerf. should anything appear to merit a more minute examination. and who lives as it were in a gilded cage. Albert could see all that passed. had chosen this habitation for Albert. gave ingress and egress to the servants and masters when they were on foot. Between the court and the garden. and broken in the centre by a large gate of gilded iron. A small door. A high wall surrounded the whole of the hotel. There were not lacking. By means of the two windows looking into the street. evidences of what we may call the intelligent egoism of a youth who is charmed with the indolent. the sight of what is going on is necessary to young men. unwilling to part from her son. three other windows looked into the court.

on which were engraved the fleurde-lis of France on an azure field evidently came from the Louvre. at least. The boudoir up-stairs communicated with the bed-chamber by an invisible door on the staircase. pencils — for music had been succeeded by painting. it was evident that every precaution had been taken. Above this floor was a large atelier. 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. Louis XIII. for Albert had had not a taste but a fancy for music. Cook. brushes. Shrubs and creeping plants covered the windows. Albert de Morcerf cultivated. the three arts that complete a dandy's education. for the use of smokers. In the centre of the room was a Roller and Blanchet "baby grand" piano in rosewood. flutes — a whole orchestra. or woven by the fingers of the women of Calcutta or of Chandernagor. in the meantime they filled the place with their golden and silky reflections. while gratifying the eyes.the concierge. as they were on the ground-floor. broadswords. easels. formed out of the ante-chamber. boxing. fencing. and which formed the ante-chamber. from whose vigilance and jurisdiction it was free.. and single-sticks — for. filled with Chinese porcelain and Japanese vases. on the right. and Charles Leboucher. like that famous portal in the "Arabian Nights. of old arm-chairs. it was impossible to say. boxinggloves. a boudoir. and a bedroom. with the addition of a third. At the end of a long corridor. and Palissy platters. in which the artist and the dandy strove for preeminence. There were collected and piled up all Albert's successive caprices. The rest of the furniture of this privileged apartment consisted of old cabinets. the only rooms into which. looking into the garden." opening at the "Sesame" of Ali Baba. Lucca della Robbia faience. hunting-horns. What these stuffs did there. adorned with a carved shield. or. On the floor above were similar rooms. and on the left the salon. and hid from the garden and court these two apartments. and single-stick. foils. following the example of the fashionable young men of the time. with which the door communicated.e. dyed beneath Persia's sun. The salon down-stairs was only an Algerian divan. palettes. and. bass-viols. a destination unknown to their owner himself. in which perhaps had sat Henry IV. Albert's breakfast-room. some royal residence. or Richelieu — for two of these armchairs. these three rooms were a salon. with far more perseverance than music and drawing. which had been increased in size by pulling down the partitions — a pandemonium. i. and it was here that he received Grisier. Over these dark and sombre chairs were thrown splendid stuffs. or Sully. they awaited. looking into the court. but 404 . the prying eyes of the curious could penetrate. was.

However. Albert had himself presided at the arrangement. and stuffed birds. Weber. get them at Borel's. Take her six bottles of different wine — Cyprus. This valet. and their beaks forever open. do you breakfast?" 405 . the young man had established himself in the small salon down-stairs. or. and be sure you say they are for me. the morning of the appointment. and on great occasions the count's chasseur also. and in the other a packet of letters. and who only spoke English. and Porpora. all Albert's establishment. This was Albert's favorite lounging place. which. were swords. the symmetrical derangement. every species of tobacco known. were ranged. havanas. gilded. — from the yellow tobacco of Petersburg to the black of Sinai. tell Rosa that when I leave the Opera I will sup with her as she wishes. "One by the post. daggers. Wait. he composed. and ascends in long and fanciful wreaths to the ceiling. although the cook of the hotel was always at his service. Mozart. and groaning beneath the weight of the chefs-d'oeuvre of Beethoven. rather. and. Malay creeses." "At what o'clock. in boxes of fragrant wood. pueros. with their long tubes of morocco. of chibouques. awaiting the caprice or the sympathy of the smokers. to Latakia. and manillas.holding the potentialities of an orchestra in its narrow and sonorous cavity. On the walls. and Malaga. dried plants. battleaxes. regalias. Albert glanced carelessly at the different missives. surrounded at some distance by a large and luxurious divan. and enclosed in scented envelopes. in an open cabinet. according to their size and quality. At a quarter to ten. opened them and perused their contents with some attention. and so on along the scale from Maryland and Porto-Rico." "Let Madame Danglars know that I accept the place she offers me in her box. sir. on a table. sherry. "How did these letters come?" said he. and who enjoyed the entire confidence of his young master. after coffee. with a little groom named John. and of narghiles. beside them. selected two written in a small and delicate hand. held in one hand a number of papers. the guests at a breakfast of modern days love to contemplate through the vapor that escapes from their mouths. There. maces. and a barrel of Ostend oysters. their flame-colored wings outspread in motionless flight. on the ceiling. which he gave to Albert. whose name was Germain. minerals. a valet entered. and inlaid suits of armor. over the doors. — was exposed in pots of crackled earthenware of which the Dutch are so fond. damasked. with their amber mouth-pieces ornamented with coral. Madame Danglars' footman left the other. then. during the day. Haydn. a collection of German pipes. Gretry.

Danglars (I do not know by what means that man contrives to obtain intelligence as soon as we do) made a million!" 406 . looked at the theatre announcements. seating himself on the divan. and not a ballet." "At Bourges?" "Yes. you drive Don Carlos out of Spain. "These papers become more and more stupid every day. Is the countess up yet?" "If you wish. clear gray eyes." "Ah. made a face seeing they gave an opera. Lucien Debray. and thin and compressed lips. tore off the cover of two or three of the papers. "it is the hour I told the count. by an effort of the superciliary and zygomatic muscles. good-morning. at half past ten. mine is incomplete. no. A tall young man." returned the young man. What do I say? punctuality! You. "Good-morning. and the servant announced M. with light hair. ask her for one of her liqueur cellarets. perhaps. entered. a carriage stopped before the door. a white neckcloth. 21st May. do not confound our plans. when the time fixed was half-past! Has the ministry resigned?" "No. whom I expected last. and which. you arrive at five minutes to ten. We take him to the other side of the French frontier. Do you not know that all Paris knew it yesterday. be obliged to go to the minister — and besides" (Albert looked at his tablets). and threw down. and though I do not much rely upon his promise. and that I request permission to introduce some one to her. without smiling or speaking. he fixed in his eye. my dear fellow. and I begin to believe that we shall pass into a state of immobility. with a half-official air. "your punctuality really alarms me. hunted vainly amongst the advertisements for a new tooth-powder of which he had heard. Lucien." "No. muttering. dressed in a blue coat with beautifully carved gold buttons. we are tottering always. I will inquire." "Very well. at half past ten. one after the other." The valet left the room. my dear fellow. and offer him hospitality at Bourges. but we never fall. true. Debray will."What time is it now?" "A quarter to ten. and tell her I shall have the honor of seeing her about three o'clock. the three leading papers of Paris. and then the affairs of the Peninsula will completely consolidate us. I wish to be punctual. Bourges is the capital of Charles VII." "Yes. and the day before it had already transpired on the Bourse." A moment after. and M. "reassure yourself. Albert threw himself on the divan." said Albert. and a tortoiseshell eye-glass suspended by a silken thread. he has not much to complain of.

" "And makes you resemble the Prince of Wales or the Duke of Reichstadt." returned Albert. At the Bois de Boulogne. while Lucien turned over. — two enemies who rarely accompany each other. for I see you have a blue ribbon at your button-hole." returned Debray. carelessly. Address yourself to M." "Because you have the order of Charles III.. "you astonish me by the extent of your knowledge. and you wish to announce the good news to me?" "No. "if you did nothing? What? private secretary to a minister. and. ringing the bell. the papers that lay on the table. of course — try them. corridor A. lighting a manilla at a rosecolored taper that burnt in a beautifully enamelled stand — "how happy you are to have nothing to do. but confess you were pleased to have it. I then recollected you gave a breakfast this morning." said Albert. it is very well as a finish to the toilet." replied Morcerf. but my head ached and I got up to have a ride for an hour. and strove to sleep. I am hungry. that does not concern the home but the financial department. a sort of Carlo-republican alliance. In the meantime. with his gold-mounted cane. and here I am. the moment they come from government you would find them execrable." "Yes." "On my word. to protect. No. better still. 26. they sent me the order of Charles III. queens.. a glass of sherry and a biscuit. having kings. ennui and hunger attacked me at once. I will do nothing of the kind. parties to 407 . feed me." "Really. my dear Albert. and who are yet leagued against me. I am bored."And you another order. my dear Lucien." "Oh. Take a cigar. "Germain. Humann. section of the indirect contributions. my dear diplomatist." "It is my duty as your host.. here are cigars — contraband. plunged at once into European cabals and Parisian intrigues. I returned home at daybreak." replied Lucien. do not affect indifference. You do not know your own good fortune!" "And what would you do." "Peste. — five and twenty despatches. with a slight degree of irony in his voice. "Come. Besides. It looks very neat on a black coat buttoned up. and persuade the minister to sell us such instead of poisoning us with cabbage leaves. because I passed the night writing letters." "It is for that reason you see me so early. amuse me.

you ministers give such splendid ones. perhaps." "Yes." "About what?" 408 . you must allow it is the best thing for the stomach." "Well. take another glass of sherry and another biscuit." "Well. I am. the jockey-club. we should never dream of dining at home. with the opera." "But you do not know this man. for which Chateau-Renaud offered you four hundred louis." "The deuce! I hope he does not bring our breakfast with him. and that will pass away the time. if you are still in the ministry. you can dispute together. and lawyers always give you very bad dinners. You see we were quite right to pacify that country. I assure you. depreciate other persons' dinners. Albert." "Willingly. a tailor who never disappoints you." "I think. Don Carlos will drink Bordeaux. Your Spanish wine is excellent. besides your place. but I hear Beauchamp in the next room. our breakfast comes from my father's kitchen. did you ever remark that?" "Ah. I will amuse you." "Where does he come from — the end of the world?" "Farther still. you have adopted the system of feeding me on smoke this morning." "A man or a woman?" "A man." "Oh." "Yes. no. Are you hungry?" "Humiliating as such a confession is. But I dined at M. possessing five and twenty thousand francs a year. can you not amuse yourself? Well." "You will then obtain the Golden Fleece. and which you would not part with. elections to direct. 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. de Villefort's. You would think they felt some remorse. a horse. and other diversions." "I know so many men already.unite. If we were not forced to entertain a parcel of country boobies because they think and vote with us. but we do not invite people of fashion. and in ten years we will marry his son to the little queen. but Don Carlos?" "Well." "How?" "By introducing to you a new acquaintance.

that is." "He is quite right. who detests you without reading you. come. "Why do you not join our party. one word. "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. that is not bad!" said Lucien." said Lucien with an air of sovereign contempt. so he says. rising and advancing to meet the young man. Good-day. you ought to reap a little blue." announced the servant."About the papers. Beauchamp. "Come in." said Albert. come in. for I must give poor Lucien a respite." "In the entire political world." "Come. a minister who will hold office for six months. "Here is Debray." "My dear friend. and that sowing so much red. of which you are one of the leaders. you know that already. and the instant they arrive we shall sit down to table. "for I criticise him without knowing what he does." "I only await one thing before following your advice. for our life is not an idle one. commander!" "Ah. I await two persons." "You only breakfast." "M. my dear Beauchamp? With your talents you would make your fortune in three or four years. My dear Albert." "They say that it is quite fair. smiling and shaking hands with him." 409 . Do we breakfast or dine? I must go to the Chamber." said the private secretary." returned Beauchamp. "do I ever read the papers?" "Then you will dispute the more.

that is exactly the worst of all. I cannot in conscience." "My dear friend." "Do not do anything of the sort. I shall take a cutlet on my way to the Chamber. for you are most desperately out of humor this morning. how could we choose that?" "I understand." "Be it so. "he votes for you. the opposition ought to be joyous. for were the gentleman a Montmorency. you know I give my daughter two millions. Danglars make a speech at the Chamber of Deputies. at least. "The king has made him a baron. you must lay in a stock of hilarity. follow Debray's example." "Do not run down M. let you run down the speeches of a man who will one day say to me." "Then we shall have to wait two hours for the gentleman. The devil take the constitutional government. I must do something to distract my thoughts. I will stay. and take a glass of sherry and a biscuit. "And what sort of persons do you expect to breakfast?" said Beauchamp." said Beauchamp." "Pardieu. this marriage will never take place. keep me some strawberries. Danglars' speeches." said Debray. in the meantime. coffee." said Albert to Beauchamp. to laugh at my ease." "You are like Debray. Recollect that Parisian gossip has spoken of a marriage between myself and Mlle. and a diplomatist. therefore. "it is plain that the affairs of Spain are settled. but he cannot make 410 .'" "Ah. I am waiting until you send him to speak at the Luxembourg. `Vicomte." "Ah. we will breakfast at eleven. I shall come back to dessert. for he belongs to the opposition. and yet it seems to me that when the minister is out of spirits. and three for the diplomatist. and the diplomatist a Metternich. Eugenie Danglars. and cigars. and can make him a peer. and at his wife's this evening I shall hear the tragedy of a peer of France. I shall hear this morning that M. and since we had our choice.Chapter 40 The Breakfast. as they say. you do not know with what I am threatened. "A gentleman.

de Chateau-Renaud — M." said Beauchamp. "let me introduce to you M. Albert." said Debray. "My dear Albert. gentleman all over." "But two million francs make a nice little sum. with the figure of a Guiche and the wit of a Mortemart. You marry a money-bag label. but what does that matter? It is better to have a blazon less and a figure more on it." replied Morcerf. "Monsieur. The young officer bowed with easy and elegant politeness. "the count of 411 .him a gentleman. "do you marry her. The Viscount of Morcerf can only wed a marchioness. half Oriental. — that is. to breakfast. announcing two fresh guests. that is one more than M." returned Beauchamp. what shall we come to next?" "M. de Guise had. it is true. whom our readers have already seen at Marseilles. give three to your wife. Lucien. every millionaire is as noble as a bastard — that is. "Now." "Do not say that. — took Albert's hand. Salute my hero." said Albert with affectionate courtesy. through your body." "Morrel." returned Lucien. You have seven martlets on your arms. under circumstances sufficiently dramatic not to be forgotten. "for I am low — very low. "for. to a mesalliance. and what is more — however the man speaks for himself —-my preserver. A rich uniform." said he. Maximilian Morrel." said the servant. with large and open brow. if I remember. "It is the social capital of a theatre on the boulevard. and his broad chest was decorated with the order of the Legion of Honor. captain of Spahis. will pass the sword of Renaud de Montauban. who so nearly became King of France. he can be. and whose cousin was Emperor of Germany. I think you are right. M." muttered Albert — "Morrel — who is he?" But before he had finished. "the minister quotes Beranger. besides." said Albert absently. "To be sure. half French. laughing. viscount. to cure you of your mania for paradoxes." "On my word." "Oh. Debray. well. his ancestor. "for here is Chateau-Renaud. or a railroad from the Jardin des Plantes to La Rapee. then." And he stepped on one side to give place to a young man of refined and dignified bearing." "He will sully it then. and you will still have four. a handsome young man of thirty. and black mustache. heavens. Maximilian Morrel." cried Beauchamp. set off his graceful and stalwart figure. de Chateau-Renaud. piercing eyes. and the Count of Morcerf is too aristocratic to consent. who." "Never mind what he says. for the paltry sum of two million francs. my friend. Morcerf. you told me you only expected two persons.

I do not prevent your sitting down to table." "You are quite right. "Chateau-Renaud can tell us while we eat our breakfast. if you should ever be in a similar predicament. "life is not worth speaking of! — that is rather too philosophical. nothing worth speaking of. "Yes? but I doubt that your object was like theirs — to rescue the Holy Sepulchre." interrupted Chateau-Renaud. who only did so once" — "We gather from all this." "Exactly so. "Oh." said Debray. which he terminated so entirely to my satisfaction." observed the young aristocrat. It is very well for you." "On what occasion?" asked Beauchamp. "you did fight some time ago. you know I am starving. "Diplomat or not. you are his friend. "take a glass of sherry. but for me. he may do as much for you as he did for me. "M. my good fellow. even had I been able to offer him the Golden Fleece and the Garter. that had I been king. a diplomatist!" observed Debray. be ours also. I should have instantly created him knight of all my orders." said Morrel. about what?" 412 . who risk your life every day. "and pray that. on my word." "Ah. that Captain Morrel saved your life. I cannot bear duelling since two seconds." said Albert gallantly. true." replied Beauchamp. Morrel. forced me to break the arm of one of my best friends. baron." "Well." "What has he done?" asked Albert. "It was only to fight as an amateur." "Ah. I only know that he charged himself on my account with a mission." said Morcerf. and I expect some one else. one whom you all know — poor Franz d'Epinay." "You all know that I had the fancy of going to Africa.Chateau-Renaud knew how much pleasure this introduction would give me." "Well." "Well said. and tell us all about it. whom I had chosen to arrange an affair. since we are not to sit down to table. Beauchamp." "Not worth speaking of?" cried Chateau-Renaud. true." said Debray. "it is only a quarter past ten. I don't know." "Gentlemen." said Debray: "do not set him off on some long story. "Beauchamp. de Chateau-Renaud exaggerates." "It is a road your ancestors have traced for you.

and the cold during the night tolerably well. Six Arabs came up. where I arrived just in time to witness the raising of the siege. shot the one who held me by the hair. then?" asked Beauchamp. "But I recollect perfectly one thing. but the third morning my horse died of cold. "I was retreating on foot. that." "You are mistaken. and two were still left. chance caused that man to be myself. "Well. for no one knows what may happen). for my horse was dead." said Debray. yes. smiling." said Morrel. of which we each of us ate a slice with a hearty appetite. It was very hard. "ask Debray if he would sacrifice his English steed for a stranger?" "Not for a stranger." 413 . like St. full gallop. the Arabian finds himself unable to bear ten degrees of cold in Arabia. the sacrifice. When I am rich I will order a statue of Chance from Klagmann or Marochetti. He had assigned himself the task of saving a man's life that day. "No. he rescued me from the cold. being unwilling to let such talents as mine sleep." "That's why you want to purchase my English horse." "You were very much frightened." "The horse?" said Morcerf. I endured the rain during the day. perhaps. and I had good reason to be so. I shot two with my double-barrelled gun. "but for a friend I might." replied Chateau-Renaud. But that is not all — after rescuing me from the sword. "I was chosen. one seized me by the hair (that is why I now wear it so short. but I was then disarmed. but by giving me the whole."The devil take me. "you think he will bear the cold better." said Debray. when this gentleman whom you see here charged them. his horse. and cleft the skull of the other with his sabre. for I have made a vow never to return to Africa." returned Chateau-Renaud. the anniversary of the day on which my father was miraculously preserved. I wished to try upon the Arabs the new pistols that had been given to me. and I already felt the cold steel on my neck. if I remember. as far as it lies in my power. I retreated with the rest. "No. I endeavor to celebrate it by some" — "Heroic action. therefore. In consequence I embarked for Oran. and two more with my pistols. then from hunger by sharing with me — guess what?" "A Strasbourg pie?" asked Beauchamp." interrupted Chateau-Renaud. Poor brute — accustomed to be covered up and to have a stove in the stable." "Yes. for eight and forty hours. to cut off my head." returned Chateau-Renaud. "it was the 5th of September. laughing. not by sharing his cloak with me. the other swung a yataghan. Martin. and went from thence to Constantine.

" "There are no bandits. "is an admirable one. "besides. and that there are only Arabs who cut off heads? Our breakfast is a philanthropic one." "Really. taking out his watch. he was then at Rome. count." replied Morcerf." replied Morrel." "Of whom?" "Of myself. that day I owed an offering to bad fortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had on other days granted to us. "You have already answered the question once. sacrifice or not. but since that time who knows where he may have gone?" "And you think him capable of being exact?" demanded Debray." "Go on."I divined that you would become mine. 414 . as I had the honor to tell you. "I think him capable of everything. to-day let us fill our stomachs. "we have only one Monthyon prize." "We know that." "Precisely?" asked Debray." said Beauchamp." said Beauchamp." said Albert. "I do not know. I hope so — two benefactors of humanity. "Oh." "Well. "parbleu. do you think I cannot be saved as well as any one else." "The history to which M. "are there any materials for an article in what you are going to tell us?" "Yes." "What shall we do?" said Debray. and for a most curious one." "I will profit by them to tell you something about my guest. but so vaguely that I venture to put it a second time." cried Morcerf. heroism or not. "that is the way the Academy mostly escapes from the dilemma. then." "Well. Albert?" "At half-past ten. but what you do not know is that I was carried off by bandits. and not our memories. when I invited him three months ago." cried Debray. "for I also expect a preserver. we have only ten left." "I beg pardon. and I must make up for it. and we shall have at table — at least. for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this morning." interrupted Beauchamp. you will give me five minutes' grace. with the five minutes' grace. What time do you breakfast." continued Chateau-Renaud. which he will tell you some day when you are better acquainted with him." "And where does he come from?" asked Debray. "Yes. Morrel alludes. it will be given to some one who has done nothing to deserve it." "I was at Rome during the last Carnival.

he is a man about my own size." "And I did more than that. The brigands had carried me off. "confess that your cook is behindhand." "Why. Say so at once. and most hideous. and to listen to your history." "No. or rather most admirable ones." "And I say to you. called the Catacombs of Saint Sebastian. like Madame de Maintenon." replied Morcerf. fabulous as it may seem." "But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns. my dear Albert.000 francs. and Signor Luigi Vampa." "There is no Count of Monte Cristo" said Debray. I tell it as a true one from beginning to end." "Armed to the teeth?" "He had not even a knitting-needle." "And they apologized to him for having carried you off?" said Beauchamp." "I know it. you are going to replace the dish by a story. fabulous as it promises to be. "for I caught one.000 Roman crowns — about 24. I had not above 1." "No." "But he paid your ransom?" "He said two words to the chief and I was free. 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. we are sufficiently well-bred to excuse you. "I narrowly escaped catching a fever there."Yes there are." "Ah. this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus." said Chateau-Renaud. 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. and conducted me to a gloomy spot. he is a second Ariosto. Unfortunately. such was the name of the chief of these bandits. "A man whose name is Franz d'Epinay or Albert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuring them. I was at the end of my journey and of my credit. for I found them ugly enough to frighten me. his name is the Count of Monte Cristo. would have scrupulously kept his word.500." said Debray. "Just so. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum of 4. 415 . and that." said ChateauRenaud. that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend or Marennes." "Come. a Perseus freeing Andromeda." "No. he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am going to present to you.

" said Morrel thoughtfully. "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 you have seen this cavern. He has even a name taken from the book. do you know if the persons you see there are rich or poor. — "Are you mad. are you not. Only he is not quite sure about the women. so that what he took for women might have been simply a row of statues. an atom in the infinite. and one of his ancestors possessed Calvary. that he thus gives a clew to the labyrinth?" 416 ." "I think I can assist your researches." "Precisely!" cried Albert. since he calls himself Sinbad the Sailor. as the Mortemarts did the Dead Sea." The two young men looked at Morcerf as if to say. "Well. "No. he has purchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany." "I do not understand you. "Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?" "He comes possibly from the Holy Land." "Have you read the `Arabian Nights'?" "What a question!" "Well. or are you laughing at us?" "And I also. and suddenly they open some mysterious cavern filled with the wealth of the Indies. if their sacks of wheat are not rubies or diamonds? They seem like poor fishermen. of this atom. Morrel comes to aid me. you are vexed. not a word of this before him. with the air of a man who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly." "Ah. he of whom I speak is the lord and master of this grain of sand. but Franz has. for they did not come in until after he had taken hashish. "have heard something like this from an old sailor named Penelon." "Which means?" "Which means that my Count of Monte Cristo is one of those fishermen. Morcerf?" asked Beauchamp." cried Albert." "But that ought to be visible. Debray. "it is very lucky that M. and has a cave filled with gold. Franz went in with his eyes blindfolded. and was waited on by mutes and by women to whom Cleopatra was a painted strumpet." added Chateau-Renaud. for heaven's sake. then?" "I believe so."I do not think so." said Maximilian." "He is rich." "That is what deceives you.

" "Doubtless. here is the pendant to the famous sea-serpent of the Constitutionnel. Will you be ambassador. I thought I should faint." "Ah. "For a man not connected with newspapers. but so little." "No." "Now you get angry." "You say very true. who knew Lord Ruthven. How will you have them protect you? The Chamber cuts down their salaries every day." "Did he not conduct you to the ruins of the Colosseum and suck your blood?" asked Beauchamp. "what you tell us is so extraordinary." responded Debray. the Sultan send me the bowstring. an arsenal of weapons that would do credit to an Arabian fortress. declared that the count was a vampire. the Countess G—— . more from hearing the cold and calm manner in which he spoke of every description of torture. every one exists." "Ah." "Just so. lest on the first demonstration I make in favor of Mehemet Ali. "facial angle strongly developed." "He eats. so that now they have scarcely any. horses that cost six thousand francs apiece. black beard." "Wild eyes. the iris of which contracts or dilates at pleasure. livid complexion. and heard her one morning when I breakfasted with the count. a princely retinue." "Pardieu." said Debray. 417 . This man has often made me shudder." "Have you seen the Greek mistress?" "I have both seen and heard her. Lucien. magnificent forehead. and make my secretaries strangle me. "you have described him feature for feature. "but this has nothing to do with the existence of the Count of Monte Cristo. I saw her at the theatre. and Greek mistresses. "Yes. and attack our poor agents. but not in the same way. because your ambassadors and your consuls do not tell you of them — they have no time." returned Morcerf. politeness unexceptionable." said Albert. capital."My dear Albert." "He must be a vampire. and one day that we were viewing an execution. Albert? I will send you to Constantinople." said Beauchamp." said Debray. keen and cutting politeness." "Laugh. if you will. Yes. then?" "Yes. They are too much taken up with interfering in the affairs of their countrymen who travel. than from the sight of the executioner and the culprit. it can hardly be called eating. every one has not black slaves. sharp and white teeth.

"His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo. but the most fastidious dandy could have found nothing to cavil at in his toilet."Or. into the centre of the room. They are the Count of Chateau-Renaud. always excepting his little arrangements with the Italian banditti. coat." said Debray. and whom I now present to you. whom I had invited in consequence of the promise you did me the honor to make. or steps in the ante-chamber. according to one of your sovereigns. it seems to me we are not of the same race." returned Beauchamp. it is forbidden to beat the postilions. make you sign a flaming parchment. I think. and Albert himself could not wholly refrain from manifesting sudden emotion. "Punctuality. and the terror of the French government. where. The count advanced." said Monte Cristo. it seems. But what struck everybody was his extreme resemblance to the portrait Debray had drawn. you perhaps have not heard in Italy. He had not heard a carriage stop in the street. but it is not the same with travellers. The count appeared. Beauchamp. private secretary to the minister of the interior. Every article of dress — hat. M." cried Beauchamp. somewhat piqued." The involuntary start every one gave proved how much Morcerf's narrative had impressed them. "your Count of Monte Cristo is a very fine fellow. idlers on the Boulevard de Gand or the Bois de Boulogne. smiling. who hastened towards him holding out his hand in a ceremonial manner. but of whom. an editor of a paper. "When I look at you Parisians. gloves. dressed with the greatest simplicity. and think of this man. "is the politeness of kings. five hundred leagues are not to be accomplished without some trouble." "Confess you have dreamed this. Lucien Debray. whose nobility goes back to the twelve peers. in spite of his national celebrity. and approached Albert." "There are no Italian banditti." continued Beauchamp. and especially in France. But the sound of the clock had not died away when Germain announced. Albert." added Chateau-Renaud. rail on at your ease." replied Albert. since 418 . and let us sit down to breakfast. gentlemen. "No Count of Monte Cristo" added Debray. "I was announcing your visit to some of my friends. "No vampire. having delivered you. surrendering your soul to him as Esau did his birth-right?" "Rail on." "I am highly flattered. He seemed scarcely five and thirty. M. "There is half-past ten striking." said Morcerf. and boots — was from the first makers. and whose ancestors had a place at the Round Table. I hope you will excuse the two or three seconds I am behindhand. However." "My dear count. the door had itself opened noiselessly. "At the same time.

" continued Albert. it was impossible to be offended at it. stepped a pace forward. "Gentlemen." They passed silently into the breakfast-room. and a slight tinge of red colored his pale cheeks. for the count is a most singular being. that this is the first time I have ever been at Paris." said the count." said the count. who. who was by this time perfectly master of himself again. however strange the speech might seem. The French way of living is utterly unknown to me. who had hitherto saluted every one with courtesy. but at the same time with coldness and formality. "Never. "Why should he doubt it?" said Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud. "Ah. "it is a handsome uniform." said Albert." No one could have said what caused the count's voice to vibrate so deeply. de Morcerf. Morrel!" "Ma foi. surprised everybody. you have a noble heart." At this name the count. which was in general so clear. "You wear the un