Count of Monte Cristo, The


Count of Monte Cristo, The
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Count of Monte Cristo, The


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Chapter 1
Marseilles −− The Arrival. On the 24th of February, 1810, the look−out at Notre−Dame de la Garde signalled the three−master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples. As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Chateau d'If, got on board the vessel between Cape Morgion and Rion island. Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint−Jean were covered with spectators; it is always an event at Marseilles for a ship to come into port, especially when this ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs to an owner of the city. The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which some volcanic shock has made between the Calasareigne and Jaros islands; had doubled Pomegue, and approached the harbor under topsails, jib, and spanker, but so slowly and sedately that the idlers, with that instinct which is the forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could have happened

Chapter 1


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?"

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"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!"

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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."

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"Yes," said Danglars, darting at Edmond a look gleaming with hate. "Yes, he is young, and youth is invariably self−confident. Scarcely was the captain's breath out of his body when he assumed the command without consulting any one, and he caused us to lose a day and a half at the Island of Elba, instead of making for Marseilles direct." "As to taking command of the vessel," replied Morrel, "that was his duty as captain's mate; as to losing a day and a half off the Island of Elba, he was wrong, unless the vessel needed repairs." "The vessel was in as good condition as I am, and as, I hope you are, M. Morrel, and this day and a half was lost from pure whim, for the pleasure of going ashore, and nothing else." "Dantes," said the shipowner, turning towards the young man, "come this way!" "In a moment, sir," answered Dantes, "and I'm with you." Then calling to the crew, he said −− "Let go!" The anchor was instantly dropped, and the chain ran rattling through the port−hole. Dantes continued at his post in spite of the presence of the pilot, until this manoeuvre was completed, and then he added, "Half−mast the colors, and square the yards!" "You see," said Danglars, "he fancies himself captain already, upon my word." "And so, in fact, he is," said the owner. "Except your signature and your partner's, M. Morrel." "And why should he not have this?" asked the owner; "he is young, it is true, but he seems to me a thorough seaman, and of full experience."

Chapter 1


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

Chapter 1


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?"

Chapter 1


"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."

Chapter 1


"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."

Chapter 1


"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,"

Chapter 1


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."

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"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

Chapter 2


also watching the young sailor, −− but there was a great difference in the expression of the two men who thus followed the movements of Edmond Dantes.

Chapter 2
Father and Son. We will leave Danglars struggling with the demon of hatred, and endeavoring to insinuate in the ear of the shipowner some evil suspicions against his comrade, and follow Dantes, who, after having traversed La Canebiere, took the Rue de Noailles, and entering a small house, on the left of the Allees de Meillan, rapidly ascended four flights of a dark staircase, holding the baluster with one hand, while with the other he repressed the beatings of his heart, and paused before a half−open door, from which he could see the whole of a small room. This room was occupied by Dantes' father. The news of the arrival of the Pharaon had not yet reached the old man, who, mounted on a chair, was amusing himself by training with trembling hand the nasturtiums and sprays of clematis that clambered over the trellis at his window. Suddenly, he felt an arm thrown around his body, and a well−known voice behind him exclaimed, "Father −− dear father!" The old man uttered a cry, and turned round; then, seeing his son, he fell into his arms, pale and trembling. "What ails you, my dearest father? Are you ill?" inquired the young man, much alarmed. "No, no, my dear Edmond −− my boy −− my son! −− no; but I did not expect you; and joy, the surprise of seeing you so suddenly −− Ah, I feel as if I were going to die."

Chapter 2


"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."

Chapter 2


"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."

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"Never mind it, for I see you once more," said the old man; "and now it's all over −− everything is all right again." "Yes, here I am," said the young man, "with a promising future and a little money. Here, father, here!" he said, "take this −− take it, and send for something immediately." And he emptied his pockets on the table, the contents consisting of a dozen gold pieces, five or six five−franc pieces, and some smaller coin. The countenance of old Dantes brightened. "Whom does this belong to?" he inquired. "To me, to you, to us! Take it; buy some provisions; be happy, and to−morrow we shall have more." "Gently, 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.

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"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.

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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."

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"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.

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"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."

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"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."

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"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.

and she tapped the earth with her arched and supple foot. which is sunburned to the beautiful dead−leaf color peculiar to the buildings of the country. was leaning with her back against the wainscot. A young and beautiful girl. they had run their boats ashore. Our readers will follow us along the only street of this little village. like the sailors of old. and within coated with whitewash. in its red cotton. bare to the elbow. who speak the language of their fathers. her eyes as velvety as the gazelle's. and modelled after those of the Arlesian Venus. For three or four centuries they have remained upon this small promontory. and is inhabited by descendants of the first comers. half Spanish. Beyond a bare. still remains. leaning his elbow on an old worm−eaten table. was a tall young man of twenty. and settled on the tongue of land on which it is to this day. moved with a kind of restless impatience. around the twelve or fifteen small vessels which had brought these gypsies of the sea. without mixing with the Marseillaise population. At three paces from her. and enter with us one of the houses. with hair as black as jet. Whence it came no one knew. was the village of the Catalans. and preserving their original customs and the costume of their mother−country as they have preserved its language. who was . like a Spanish posada. One of its chiefs. her arms. seated in a chair which he balanced on two legs. This village. The request was granted. and three months afterwards. a small village sprang up. so as to display the pure and full shape of her well−turned leg.Chapter 3 30 Chapter 3 The Catalans. constructed in a singular and picturesque manner. where. the flowers of which she was picking off and strewing on the floor. rubbing in her slender delicately moulded fingers a bunch of heath blossoms. intermarrying. brown. weather−worn wall. on which they had settled like a flight of seabirds. Long ago this mysterious colony quitted Spain. or two−and−twenty. stocking. and it spoke an unknown tongue. who understood Provencal. begged the commune of Marseilles to give them this bare and barren promontory. about a hundred paces from the spot where the two friends sat looking and listening as they drank their wine. half Moorish. gray and blue clocked.

Make me understand once for all that you are trifling with my happiness. Fernand. repeat it.Chapter 3 31 looking at her with an air in which vexation and uneasiness were mingled. but do not ask from me more than sisterly affection. what would you do with me. you have been cruelly frank with me. that is very true." said the young man. a poor orphan. with nothing but a half−ruined hut and a few ragged nets." replied Mercedes. "here is Easter come round again. and.' Is not this true. for my heart is another's. He questioned her with his eyes. I beg of you. forlorn. and by my mother to me? She has been dead a year. Fernand. and you know. and that is an excuse to share . "You see. is this the moment for a wedding?" "I have answered you a hundred times. Once a soldier. do not cite this custom in your favor. but the firm and steady gaze of the young girl controlled his look. it is not a law. You are included in the conscription. and to lose that hope." replied the young man. Ah. Mercedes. that I may at last believe it! Tell me for the hundredth time that you refuse my love. liable at any moment to be called upon to take up arms. tell me. which had your mother's sanction. I have always said to you. −− repeat it. Fernand. I have subsisted almost entirely on public charity. Mercedes. the miserable inheritance left by my father to my mother. to have dreamed for ten years of being your husband. but merely a custom. without fortune. "you cannot reproach me with the slightest coquetry. Fernand?" "Yes. that my life or death are nothing to you. Fernand. which was the only stay of my existence!" "At least it was not I who ever encouraged you in that hope. Mercedes. and really you must be very stupid to ask me again." "Well. `I love you as a brother. and are only at liberty on sufferance. "Yes. Sometimes you pretend I am useful to you. but do you forget that it is among the Catalans a sacred law to intermarry?" "You mistake. I pray of you. Fernand.

a striped shirt. you are a soldier." "And if it were." "Well. beloved by you. because we were brought up together. I will wear a varnished hat. might get a place as clerk in a warehouse. poor and lone as you are. when she loves another man better than her husband? Rest content with my friendship. and where can I look for these better than in you?" "Fernand. for I say once more that is all I can promise. "you can endure your own wretchedness patiently. and who shall say she will remain an honest woman. as I cannot give you more. with an anchor on the buttons. Mercedes. so remain a fisherman. but you are afraid to share mine. I will be a sailor. "a woman becomes a bad manager. and I accept it. I will do better. you would bring me good luck. 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. I could extend my occupation as a fisherman. I would tempt fortune. and I will promise no more than I can bestow. But I feel very deeply that this fish which I go and sell. which you despise. and become in time a dealer myself. instead of the costume of our fathers. −− "what do you mean? I do not understand you?" . with an angry glance." "I understand. Fernand. Would not that dress please you?" "What do you mean?" asked Mercedes. and a blue jacket. Mercedes. Fernand. and still more because it would give you so much pain if I refuse." replied Fernand." "You could do no such thing. −− I feel very keenly. shaking her head. and if you remain at the Catalans it is because there is no war. and I should become rich. and contented with my friendship. Mercedes. and with the produce of which I buy the flax I spin. Fernand.Chapter 3 32 with me the produce of your fishing. that this is charity. because you are the son of my father's brother. Well." answered Mercedes.

What end would that answer? To lose you my friendship if he were conquered. you would be revenged on him because I do not love you. −− "Say." "Fernand. and besides." she added. "wait. Mercedes. nor did he attempt to check the tears which flowed down the cheeks of Mercedes. but perhaps he whom you await is inconstant." he said. because you are expecting some one who is thus attired. you said just now that the sea was treacherous. you will not thus give way to evil thoughts. "I understand you. you will content yourself with having me for your friend and sister. to seek a quarrel with a man is a bad method of pleasing the woman who loves that man. No. and during these four months there have been some terrible storms. Mercedes. and I was mistaken! Fernand." Fernand made no reply. but these tears flowed for another. if he does not return.Chapter 3 33 "I mean. Fernand." . Fernand. I will not deny it. and I do love him of whom you speak. "once for all. although for each of these tears he would have shed his heart's blood. instead of accusing him of the inconstancy which you insinuate. is this your final determination?" "I love Edmond Dantes. Fernand. you are wicked to call to your aid jealousy and the anger of God! Yes. "and none but Edmond shall ever be my husband. and then. and. and he has been gone four months. Unable to have me for your wife. the sea is so to him." the young girl calmly replied. I will tell you that he died loving me and me only. you would cross your Catalan knife with his dirk. He arose. suddenly stopping before Mercedes. and see that friendship changed into hate if you were victor. I do await." "And you will always love him?" "As long as I live. or if he is not. paced a while up and down the hut. "I believed you were good−hearted. with his eyes glowing and his hands clinched. her eyes troubled and moistened with tears. that you are thus harsh and cruel with me." The young girl made a gesture of rage." cried Mercedes. wait. Believe me.

drew back. Suddenly Edmond saw the gloomy. "you see he has not forgotten me. The burning Marseilles sun. and then suddenly looking her full in the face. turning to Mercedes. and threatening countenance of Fernand. and they only spoke in broken words. he inquired. for he is my friend. like a traveller at the sight of a serpent. blushing with delight. Edmond. heaved a sigh that was like a groan. "Here. Edmond and Mercedes were clasped in each other's arms. "I did not perceive that there were three of us. the young Catalan placed his hand on the knife at his belt. frowning in his turn." said Dantes. which are the tokens of a joy so extreme that they seem rather the expression of sorrow. my cousin. she opened it. By a movement for which he could scarcely account to himself. I love the best in the world. Dantes. and fairly leaping in excess of love. covered them with a flood of light. "Ah. At first they saw nothing around them. your pardon. Edmond. Do you not remember him?" . said." exclaimed the young girl. −− "But if he is dead" −− "If he is dead. here I am!" Fernand. I shall die too. "Who is this gentleman?" "One who will be your best friend. saying.Chapter 3 34 Fernand let fall his head like a defeated man. with clinched teeth and expanded nostrils. as it was defined in the shadow. and fell into a chair beside him. it is Fernand −− the man whom. after you. pale and trembling. pale. which shot into the room through the open door. −− "Mercedes!" "Ah. Their intense happiness isolated them from all the rest of the world. my brother." Then. for here he is!" And rushing towards the door." "If he has forgotten you" −− "Mercedes!" called a joyous voice from without.

" she continued. came slowly towards Edmond. do you say." Fernand became deadly pale. who will grasp your hand as a devoted friend. with an angry look at her cousin. I would ascend the highest point of the Cape de Morgion and cast myself headlong from it. running furiously and tearing his hair −− "Oh. he extended the other to the Catalan with a cordial air." he exclaimed. and offered him his hand. "And should any misfortune occur to you." "An enemy!" cried Mercedes. "You have no enemy here −− there is no one but Fernand. that I was to meet an enemy here. however. instead of responding to this amiable gesture. who.Chapter 3 35 "Yes!" said Dantes. "if misfortune should occur to you. Scarcely." she continued with the same calmness which proved to Fernand that the young girl had read the very innermost depths of his sinister thought. dear Edmond. This look told him all. when I came with such haste to you. and then again on the gloomy and menacing Fernand. But Fernand. and his anger waxed hot. my brother. was broken against the strong ascendancy which Mercedes exercised over him. as if fascinated by it." And at these words the young girl fixed her imperious look on the Catalan. remained mute and trembling. Edmond! If I believed that. "But you are deceived. Edmond. His hatred. "I did not know." Fernand's eye darted lightning. leaving the house to return to it no more. "An enemy in my house. had he touched Edmond's hand than he felt he had done all he could do. "Oh. who will deliver me from this man? Wretched −− wretched that I am!" . like a powerless though furious wave. Edmond then cast his eyes scrutinizingly at the agitated and embarrassed Mercedes. and rushed hastily out of the house. I would place my arm under yours and go with you to Marseilles. and without relinquishing Mercedes hand clasped in one of his own.

they are not only to offer him a glass of wine. "Well. "Well". and I was afraid you would throw yourself into the sea. under an arbor. Fernand! where are you running to?" exclaimed a voice. "Are we mistaken.Chapter 3 36 "Hallo. "Good−day. said Caderousse." added Danglars. Fernand looked at them both with a stupefied air. Catalan! Hallo. and turning towards the young man. to prevent his swallowing three or four pints of water unnecessarily!" . laughing." said he. rather than sat down. and slowly entered the arbor. "He seems besotted. can't you make up your mind?" Fernand wiped away the perspiration steaming from his brow. we must inquire into that. pushing Caderousse with his knee. "Why. and whose coolness somewhat of refreshment to his exhausted body. "why don't you come? Are you really in such a hurry that you have no time to pass the time of day with your friends?" "Particularly when they have still a full bottle before them. but did not say a word. when a man has friends. "I called you because you were running like a madman. whose shade seemed to restore somewhat of calmness to his senses. The young man stopped suddenly. on one of the seats which surrounded the table. "You called me. but. moreover. said. and perceived Caderousse sitting at table with Danglars. Catalan. looked around him. didn't you?" And he fell." said Danglars." said Caderousse." was Caderousse's reply. and is Dantes triumphant in spite of all we have believed?" "Why.

you understand!" "No." "My health is well enough. "Bah!" said Danglars. winking at his friend. and he is in love with a very fine girl. "Poor Fernand has been dismissed. whom you see here. "Well. I do not understand. It's not polite not to reply to friends who ask news of your health. "this is how it is. which resembled a sob. with that brutality of the common people in which curiosity destroys all diplomacy." "No. is she? Is she not free to love whomsoever she will?" "Oh." said Fernand. "only hark how he sighs! Come. is a good and brave Catalan." said Danglars. "Ah. and they told me the Catalans were not men to . "hold up your head. and what then?" said Fernand. if you take it in that sense. and dropped his head into his hands." said Caderousse. clinching his hands without raising his head. Caderousse. unfortunately. but it appears. "Mercedes is not accountable to any person. come. his elbows leaning on the table." and he burst into a hoarse laugh. and as the Pharaon arrived to−day −− why. Fernand. named Mercedes. Fernand. one of the best fishermen in Marseilles." said Caderousse. I must say. You are laughing at him. But I thought you were a Catalan.Chapter 3 37 Fernand gave a groan." said Caderousse. "you look uncommonly like a rejected lover." said Caderousse. beginning the conversation. "a lad of his make was not born to be unhappy in love. Fernand. "it is another thing. that the fine girl is in love with the mate of the Pharaon. you see. "Well." he replied. and looking at Caderousse like a man who looks for some one on whom to vent his anger. Danglars. and answer us." continued Caderousse. lifting up his head.

pouring out a glass of wine for Fernand." said Caderousse. never mind. perhaps. under any circumstances. and on whom the fumes of the wine began to take effect.Chapter 3 38 allow themselves to be supplanted by a rival. "Poor fellow!" remarked Danglars. but he read nothing but envy in a countenance already . it is not yet fixed!" murmured Fernand. "Why. or perchance faithless! These things always come on us more severely when they come suddenly. affecting to pity the young man from the bottom of his heart. and turned to Caderousse." said Caderousse." "Ah. who drank as he spoke. especially. while Danglars had merely sipped his." During this time Danglars fixed his piercing glance on the young man. It was even told me that Fernand. you see." he said. "Oh. he did not expect to see Dantes return so suddenly −− he thought he was dead. "And when is the wedding to be?" he asked." "Well. on whose heart Caderousse's words fell like molten lead." answered Caderousse. ma foi. you are right −− and I should say that would bring him ill−luck. but it will be. "A lover is never terrible. is he. whose countenance he scrutinized. Danglars?" Danglars shuddered at this unexpected attack. and filling his own for the eighth or ninth time. "Never mind −− in the meantime he marries Mercedes −− the lovely Mercedes −− at least he returns to do that." Fernand smiled piteously. "No. Danglars?" "No. −− "under any circumstances Fernand is not the only person put out by the fortunate arrival of Dantes. "as surely as Dantes will be captain of the Pharaon −− eh. to try and detect whether the blow was premeditated. was terrible in his vengeance.

"What do I see down there by the wall. "let us drink to Captain Edmond Dantes. You know wine is a deceiver. see there. See. pricked by Danglars. who. lifted up her lovely head.Chapter 3 39 rendered brutal and stupid by drunkenness. smiling and graceful. he is well−behaved!" Fernand. eh!" stammered Caderousse. and follow his example. and let us know when the wedding is to be." said he. "Yes. Heaven forgive me. but I should say it was two lovers walking side by side. and looked at them with her clear and bright eyes. "Do you know them. Fernand dashed his on the ground. will you?" said Danglars. and hand in hand. husband of the beautiful Catalane!" Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with unsteady hand. "and I did not recognize them! Hallo. in a low voice. was about to rush out. filling the glasses. look at Fernand. with the tenacity of drunkards. as the bull is by the bandilleros." "Hold your tongue. now!" said Caderousse. eh. lovely damsel! Come this way. Dantes! hello. pretending to restrain Caderousse. "Eh. in the direction of the Catalans? Look. At this Fernand recollected her threat of dying if Edmond died. they do not know that we can see them. Danglars . Fernand?" he said. "Try to stand upright. when Mercedes. "It is Edmond and Mercedes!" "Ah. your eyes are better than mine." was the reply. for he had risen from his seat. leaned out of the arbor. for Fernand here is so obstinate he will not tell us. Fernand. and they are actually embracing!" Danglars did not lose one pang that Fernand endured. and let the lovers make love without interruption. and seemed to be collecting himself to dash headlong upon his rival. and swallowed the contents at a gulp. "Well. I believe I see double. and dropped again heavily on his seat. probably excited beyond bearing.

too. one after the other. that's an explanation!" said Caderousse. "Hallo!" continued Caderousse. "he is so easily mistaken. the other overwhelmed with love. Edmond's star is in the ascendant. Edmond! do you not see your friends.Chapter 3 40 looked at the two men. and laugh at us all. Here's an envious fellow making himself boozy on wine when he ought to be nursing his wrath. and Calabrians. if you please. they say. and the other has fists big enough to crush an ox at one blow." he added." "So. So call me Mercedes. and here is a fool who sees the woman he loves stolen from under his nose and takes on like a big baby. the one brutalized by liquor. "I am not proud. my dear fellow!" replied Dantes. and he will marry the splendid girl −− he will be captain." said Danglars. half−rising. the wedding is to take place immediately. but I am happy. and in my country it bodes ill fortune. "How do you do. and happiness blinds. Sicilians. Caderousse. Unquestionably. and said −− "That is not my name. very well." said Dantes. "hallo. . then. or are you too proud to speak to them?" "No. more than pride. "I shall get nothing from these fools. M." "We must excuse our worthy neighbor. Madame Dantes?" Mercedes courtesied gravely. Dantes." "Ah. I think. to call a young girl by the name of her betrothed before he becomes her husband. bowing to the young couple. and with his fist on the table. unless" −− a sinister smile passed over Danglars' lips −− "unless I take a hand in the affair. Yet this Catalan has eyes that glisten like those of the vengeful Spaniards. "and I am very much afraid of being here between a drunkard and a coward." he muttered.

that may bring me bad luck." "Your pardon. M. "To−day the preliminaries." Fernand opened his mouth to reply. should be very sorry if he were absent at such a time. Caderousse. `Do not give me a title which does not belong to me'. you are invited. Danglars. But it is not selfishness alone that makes me thus in haste. or next day at latest. too. to−day all preliminaries will be arranged at my father's. the Pharaon cannot be under weigh again in less than three months. and you. captain!" "Danglars. but his voice died on his lips. "Fernand." said Edmond." "Have you business there?" . "I will say to you as Mercedes said just now to Caderousse. and we have lots of time." "We are always in a hurry to be happy." "And Fernand. and he could not utter a word. Dantes?" "Yes. for when we have suffered a long time. smiling. Mercedes and I. I hope.Chapter 3 41 "As soon as possible. that is to say." "Ah. My friends will be there. the wedding festival here at La Reserve. really? −− to Paris! and will it be the first time you have ever been there. Danglars. M. M. to−morrow or next day the ceremony! You are in a hurry. we have great difficulty in believing in good fortune. I must go to Paris. and to−morrow. is invited!" "My wife's brother is my brother. Danglars." said Edmond." replied Danglars. "I merely said you seemed in a hurry." said Caderousse with a chuckle. "and we.

pale and trembling. "To Paris." said Fernand." "Yes. Danglars −− it is sacred.Chapter 4 42 "Not of my own. Danglars followed Edmond and Mercedes with his eyes until the two lovers disappeared behind one of the angles of Fort Saint Nicolas. Besides. "Thank you. my friend. Dantes. my dear sir. and then in a low tone. "Well. into his chair." said Danglars to Fernand. "here is a marriage which does not appear to make everybody happy. this letter gives me an idea −− a capital idea! Ah. he perceived Fernand." he cried. who was walking away." said Edmond with a friendly nod. who had fallen. as calm and joyous as if they were the very elect of heaven." said Danglars." then turning towards Edmond. I shall only take the time to go and return. and the two lovers continued on their way. "Do you. yes. he added." "It drives me to despair. then turning round. you know to what I allude. the last commission of poor Captain Leclere. "A pleasant journey. while Caderousse stammered out the words of a drinking−song. I understand. no doubt to deliver the letter which the grand marshal gave him. then. Chapter 4 Conspiracy. you are not yet registered number one on board the good ship Pharaon. Ah. love Mercedes?" "I adore her!" "For long?" .

" "Idiot!" muttered Danglars. and you shall find. seek." "You do not know Mercedes. but for you −− in the words of the gospel. but" −− "Yes." said Caderousse. or I don't know what love is. "How do I know? Is it my affair? I am not in love with Mademoiselle Mercedes. I did not think that was the way of your people. "you appear to me a good sort of fellow." "Come. tearing your hair. "but how?" . provided Dantes is not captain?" "Before Mercedes should die." "And you sit there." "Pooh! Women say those things. she would kill herself. instead of seeking to remedy your condition.Chapter 4 43 "As long as I have known her −− always. but the woman told me that if any misfortune happened to her betrothed." "I have found already." "What?" "I would stab the man. and hang me. but never do them." said Danglars." replied Fernand. "whether she kill herself or not. "I would die myself!" "That's what I call love!" said Caderousse with a voice more tipsy than ever. I should like to help you. what she threatens she will do. "That's love. what matter." "What would you have me do?" said Fernand. with the accents of unshaken resolution.

methinks. but" −− "Yes. to help you it would be sufficient that Dantes did not marry her you love. I like Dantes. they are no bigger than cologne flasks. and you will be completely so. I have answered for you. for it is because they have bad thoughts which they are afraid the liquor will extract from their hearts. my friend." "Death alone can separate them. who will prove to you that you are wrong. "you are three parts drunk." and Caderousse began to sing the two last lines of a song very popular at the time. finish the bottle. your health. −− `Tous les mechants sont beuveurs d'eau. you would like to help me. Dantes is a good fellow. if you like. awaiting with great anxiety the end of this interrupted remark." replied Danglars. clever. "What was I saying? I forget. "You talk like a noodle. Danglars. sir. "well that's a good one! I could drink four more such bottles. C'est bien prouve par le deluge. for that requires all one's wit and cool judgment. and the marriage may easily be thwarted. deep fellow." .'* * "The wicked are great drinkers of water As the flood proved once for all." "I −− drunk!" said Caderousse. indeed. Pere Pamphile.Chapter 4 44 "My dear fellow. and yet Dantes need not die. Say there is no need why Dantes should die. so much the worse for those who fear wine. and do not meddle with what we are discussing." remarked Fernand. but I added. "and here is Danglars. it would. be a pity he should." said Caderousse." "You said. Prove it. who is a wide−awake. This drunken Caderousse has made me lose the thread of my sentence. more wine!" and Caderousse rattled his glass upon the table. Dantes. sir" −− said Fernand. Drink then." "Drunk. "You were saying.

one seeks revenge" −− "What matters that?" muttered Fernand. as you said just now. you understand there is no need to kill him." persisted Caderousse." said Fernand. restraining the young man. "and when one gets out and one's name is Edmond Dantes. he is not much out in what he says. said. "Well.Chapter 4 45 Fernand rose impatiently." "I know not why you meddle. who." said Caderousse. for he who himself hates is never mistaken in the sentiments of others. Danglars saw in the muddled look of the tailor the progress of his intoxication. "but this I know. but one gets out of prison. 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. if." . I like Dantes. "Let him run on. Absence severs as well as death. your health!" and he swallowed another glass of wine. Have you that means?" "It is to be found for the searching." said Danglars. with what sense was left him." "Certainly not. Dantes. "And why. I should like to know. and turning towards Fernand. "should they put Dantes in prison? he has not robbed or killed or murdered. you have some motive of personal hatred against Dantes. seizing his arm. "drunk as he is. listened eagerly to the conversation." "Yes. But why should I meddle in the matter? it is no affair of mine. you have the means of having Dantes arrested." "Hold your tongue!" said Danglars. "I won't hold my tongue!" replied Caderousse. "I say I want to know why they should put Dantes in prison.

he said. I hate him! I confess it openly. "the French have the superiority over the Spaniards. −− "Kill Dantes! who talks of killing Dantes? I won't have him killed −− I won't! He's my friend." "True. on my word! I saw you were unhappy. "here's to his health! his health −− hurrah!" "But the means −− the means?" said Fernand. "No! −− you undertook to do so." Caderousse. muddlehead?" replied Danglars.Chapter 4 46 "I! −− motives of hatred against Dantes? None. Dantes' good health!" said Caderousse. "Waiter." said Danglars. who had let his head drop on the table." "Do you invent. adieu." said Fernand. no. get out of the affair as best you may." "Yes. ink." said Fernand impatiently. I won't have Dantes killed −− I won't!" "And who has said a word about killing him. for Mercedes has declared she will kill herself if Dantes is killed. that the Spaniards ruminate. while the French invent. now raised it. drink to his health. emptying his glass. but since you believe I act for my own account. "Have you not hit upon any?" asked Danglars. "pen. "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. my dear friend. "and do not interfere with us. yes. and this morning offered to share his money with me." replied Danglars. restraining him." ." he added. and your unhappiness interested me. Do you find the means. filling Caderousse's glass. and paper. as I shared mine with him." and Danglars rose as if he meant to depart. I will execute it. and looking at Fernand with his dull and fishy eyes. "No. then. that's all. provided it is not to kill the man. "We were merely joking.

and paper are my tools." muttered Fernand. pen." "The fellow is not so drunk as he appears to be. I am a supercargo. "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." said the waiter. Fernand. ink. "Yes. and paper. then. for I know the fact well. and confront you with him you have denounced. "that if after a voyage such as Dantes has just made. a bottle of ink. "When one thinks. as he saw the final glimmer of Caderousse's reason vanishing before the last glass of wine." said Caderousse. letting his hand drop on the paper.Chapter 4 47 "Pen. and without my tools I am fit for nothing. and paper." The waiter did as he was desired." Fernand filled Caderousse's glass. than of a sword or pistol. who. then. The Catalan watched him until Caderousse. for instance. but they will make you then sign your declaration." resumed Danglars. But Dantes cannot . lifted his hand from the paper and seized the glass. I will supply you with the means of supporting your accusation. "Well. "Bring them here. some one were to denounce him to the king's procureur as a Bonapartist agent" −− "I will denounce him!" exclaimed the young man hastily. rested. "Give him some more wine. ink. or rather dropped. I should say. like the confirmed toper he was. almost overcome by this fresh assault on his senses. in which he touched at the Island of Elba." "Pen. and a sheet of paper. his glass upon the table." called Fernand loudly." said Danglars. ink. "Well!" resumed the Catalan. "There's what you want on that table. "Yes.

which he handed to Fernand. "Yes.' and that's all settled. and that's all settled!" exclaimed Caderousse. for the letter will be found upon him." And Danglars." "Very good. for in no way can it revert to yourself. `To the king's attorney." "Yes. the king's attorney. and the matter will thus work its own way. dip it into this ink. has been intrusted by Murat with a letter for the usurper." continued Danglars. wrote with his left hand. and one day or other he will leave it. that one Edmond Dantes. and instinctively . there is nothing to do now but fold the letter as I am doing. who. is informed by a friend of the throne and religion. or in his cabin on board the Pharaon. and write with the left hand (that the writing may not be recognized) the denunciation we propose. uniting practice with theory. mate of the ship Pharaon. arrived this morning from Smyrna. the following lines." And Danglars wrote the address as he spoke. no. and in a writing reversed from his usual style. and the day when he comes out. and by the usurper with a letter for the Bonapartist committee in Paris. as I now do.Chapter 4 48 remain forever in prison. woe betide him who was the cause of his incarceration!" "Oh. "No. it would be much better to take." resumed Danglars. "now your revenge looks like common−sense. I should wish nothing better than that he would come and seek a quarrel with me. "if we resolve on such a step. this pen. who will detest you if you have only the misfortune to scratch the skin of her dearly beloved Edmond!" "True!" said Fernand. and totally unlike it. by a last effort of intellect. had followed the reading of the letter. and write upon it. after having touched at Naples and Porto−Ferrajo. and which Fernand read in an undertone: −− "The honorable. and Mercedes! Mercedes. Proof of this crime will be found on arresting him. or at his father's.

let us go. who still remained seated. drunkard. won't you return to Marseilles with us?" "No. Come. and let us go." said Caderousse. "and as what I say and do is merely in jest. "I'll take your bet." "And who thinks of using him ill? Certainly neither I nor Fernand. he squeezed it up in his hands and threw it into a corner of the arbor. only it will be an infamous shame. "Yes. I wish to drink to the health of Edmond and the lovely Mercedes. "Dantes is my friend." and he stretched out his hand to reach the letter.Chapter 4 49 comprehended all the misery which such a denunciation must entail. and that's all settled. and without staggering." said Danglars. too!" "Done!" said Danglars. "Yes." "I?" said Caderousse. but to−morrow −− to−day it is time to return. because unable to stand on your legs. "let's have some more wine. Fernand. "but I don't want your arm at all. rising and looking at the young man. but whose eye was fixed on the denunciatory sheet of paper flung into the corner. should be sorry if anything happened to Dantes −− the worthy Dantes −− look here!" And taking the letter. "I shall return to the Catalans." said Fernand. and I. "and if you continue. Give me your arm. taking it from beyond his reach." said Danglars. amongst the first and foremost." said Danglars." "You have had too much already. you will be compelled to sleep here. rising with all the offended dignity of a drunken man. and I won't have him ill−used." replied Caderousse. I'll wager I can go up into the belfry of the Accoules." "Very well. "I can't keep on my legs? Why. "In this case. "All right!" said Caderousse." .

" said Danglars to himself. Fernand!" "Oh. "now the thing is at work and it will effect its purpose unassisted. to take him off towards Marseilles by the Porte Saint−Victor. "why. "Well. there's liberty for all the world. come. "he's gone right enough. touching the foamy waves into a network of ruby−tinted light. The morning's sun rose clear and resplendent. Danglars looked back and saw Fernand stoop. When they had advanced about twenty yards. staggering as he went. Come with us to Marseilles −− come along. and let the young gentleman return to the Catalans if he chooses. and putting it into his pocket then rush out of the arbor towards Pillon. pick up the crumpled paper. "I should have said not −− how treacherous wine is!" "Come." "What do you mean? you will not? Well.Chapter 5 50 "You're wrong." "I will not." said Caderousse." said Caderousse." said Danglars. . just as you like. my prince. you don't see straight." Danglars took advantage of Caderousse's temper at the moment. and he is going to the city. what a lie he told! He said he was going to the Catalans." Chapter 5 The Marriage−Feast. Hallo." "Well. Come along. Danglars.

however. Various rumors were afloat to the effect that the owners of the Pharaon had promised to attend the nuptial feast. Morrel appeared and was saluted with an enthusiastic burst of applause from the crew of the Pharaon. in order to do greater honor to the occasion. an hour previous to that time the balcony was filled with impatient and expectant guests. 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. but all seemed unanimous in doubting that an act of such rare and exceeding condescension could possibly be intended. who now made his appearance. consisting of the favored part of the crew of the Pharaon. over each of which was written in golden letters for some inexplicable reason the name of one of the principal cities of France. 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. a moment later M. In fact. stating that he had recently conversed with M. The apartment destined for the purpose was spacious and lighted by a number of windows. And although the entertainment was fixed for twelve o'clock. With the entrance of M. beneath these windows a wooden balcony extended the entire length of the house. . and as Dantes was universally beloved on board his vessel. Morrel. and to beseech him to make haste. effectually confirmed the report. 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. accompanied by Caderousse. the whole of whom had arrayed themselves in their choicest costumes. who had himself assured him of his intention to dine at La Reserve.Chapter 5 51 The feast had been made ready on the second floor at La Reserve. Morrel. with whose arbor the reader is already familiar. and other personal friends of the bride−groom.

His thin but wiry legs were arrayed in a pair of richly embroidered clocked stockings. looking for all the world like one of the aged dandies of 1796. although there still lingered in his mind a faint and unperfect recollection of the events of the preceding night. with an agitated and restless gaze. who seemed. but ere they had gone many steps they perceived a group advancing towards them. while. in their own unmixed content. −− the latter of whom attracted universal notice. Thus he came along. while Fernand. occasionally. . trimmed with steel buttons.Chapter 5 52 Danglars and Caderousse set off upon their errand at full speed. father and son. and a nervous contraction distort his features. and exchanged a hearty shake of the hand with Edmond. evidently of English manufacture. a deep flush would overspread his countenance. by whose side walked Dantes' father. parading the newly opened gardens of the Tuileries and Luxembourg. he cast on him a look of deep meaning. Danglars and Caderousse took their places beside Fernand and old Dantes. like one who either anticipated or foresaw some great and important event. however. Neither Mercedes nor Edmond observed the strange expression of his countenance. just as the brain retains on waking in the morning the dim and misty outline of a dream. The old man was attired in a suit of glistening watered silk. As Danglars approached the disappointed lover. Having acquitted themselves of their errand. his aged countenance lit up with happiness. beautifully cut and polished. composed of the betrothed pair. to have entirely forgotten that such a being as himself existed. he would glance in the direction of Marseilles. a party of young girls in attendance on the bride. the whole brought up by Fernand. supporting himself on a curiously carved stick. Beside him glided Caderousse. 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. whose lips wore their usual sinister smile. was pale and abstracted. they were so happy that they were conscious only of the sunshine and the presence of each other. while from his three−cornered hat depended a long streaming knot of white and blue ribbons.

Danglars at his left. followed by the soldiers and sailors there assembled. M. but becomingly. have cast down her thickly fringed lashes. One more practiced in the arts of great cities would have hid her blushes beneath a veil. Edmond. a more perfect specimen of manly beauty could scarcely be imagined. She moved with the light. Morrel. to whom he had repeated the promise already given.Chapter 5 53 Dantes himself was simply. at least. while. at the approach of his patron. the rest of the company ranged themselves as they found it most agreeable. "Father. "sit." pointing with a soft and gentle smile to Fernand. Lovely as the Greek girls of Cyprus or Chios. 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. free step of an Arlesienne or an Andalusian. I pray you. who. that Dantes should be the successor to the late Captain Leclere. on my right hand. and ripe. beneath whose heavy tread the slight structure creaked and groaned for the space of several minutes. or. rejoice with me. on my left I will place him who has ever been as a brother to me. During this time. forthwith conducting her up the flight of wooden steps leading to the chamber in which the feast was prepared. coral lips. respectfully placed the arm of his affianced bride within that of M. on the contrary. had been occupied in similarly placing his most honored guests." said Mercedes. Morrel was seated at his right hand. and with his fine countenance. the delighted girl looked around her with a smile that seemed to say: "If you are my friends. for his lips became ghastly pale. Morrel descended and came forth to meet it. round. so as to have concealed the liquid lustre of her animated eyes. clad in the dress peculiar to the merchant service −− a costume somewhat between a military and a civil garb. radiant with joy and happiness. Mercedes boasted the same bright flashing eyes of jet. for I am very happy. Dantes." As soon as the bridal party came in sight of La Reserve. M. at a sign from Edmond. but her words and look seemed to inflict the direst torture on him. . was gayly followed by the guests. at the opposite side of the table. stopping when she had reached the centre of the table. but.

" Danglars looked towards Fernand. and styled by the grateful fishermen "fruits of the sea. "Now." returned Dantes. prawns of large size and brilliant color. Arlesian sausages. whose excitable nature received and betrayed each fresh impression. and which had just been placed before Mercedes herself. happiness is like the enchanted palaces we read of in our childhood. my worthy friend. requiring to be overcome ere victory is ours. you are right. joy takes a strange effect at times. and monsters of all shapes and kinds.Chapter 5 54 Then they began to pass around the dusky. "a man cannot always feel happy because he is about to be married. as he carried to his lips a glass of wine of the hue and brightness of the topaz. the clovis. "Why. 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. "Man does not appear to me to be intended to enjoy felicity so unmixed. who desire nothing better than to laugh and dance the hours away?" "Ah. merry party." replied Dantes. would anybody think that this room contained a happy." "A pretty silence truly!" said the old father of the bride−groom. it seems to oppress us almost the same as sorrow. that are cast up by the wash of waters on the sandy beach. and lobsters in their dazzling red cuirasses." "The truth is. fiery dragons defend the entrance and approach." sighed Caderousse. in fact. the echinus with its prickly outside and dainty morsel within. "Do you fear any approaching evil? I should say that you were the happiest man alive at this instant. where fierce. esteemed by the epicures of the South as more than rivalling the exquisite flavor of the oyster." "And that is the very thing that alarms me. −− all the delicacies. piquant. if that is what you meant by your observation. "that I am too happy for noisy mirth. what ails you?" asked he of Edmond." .

Mercedes looked pleased and gratified. and he was compelled to support himself by the table to prevent his falling from his chair. turning pale. I do not consider I have asserted too much in saying." A general exclamation of surprise ran round the table. never mind that. to whom. next to my father. thus it is. while Fernand. Arrived here only yesterday morning. and married to−day at three . with the exception of the elder Dantes. "How is that. a burning sensation passed across his brow. "Thanks to the influence of M. he could not refrain from uttering a deep groan. smiling." Fernand closed his eyes. whose laugh displayed the still perfect beauty of his large white teeth. "In an hour?" inquired Danglars.Chapter 5 55 "Nay. "Well. Just assume the tone and manner of a husband. it is not worth while to contradict me for such a trifle as that. "in an hour and a half she will be. seemed to start at every fresh sound. in another hour and thirty minutes Mercedes will have become Madame Dantes. drawing out his watch. "you have not attained that honor yet. and at half−past two o'clock the mayor of Marseilles will be waiting for us at the city hall. I owe every blessing I enjoy. while Fernand grasped the handle of his knife with a convulsive clutch. We have purchased permission to waive the usual delay. 'Tis true that Mercedes is not actually my wife. as a quarter−past one has already struck. and from time to time wiped away the large drops of perspiration that gathered on his brow." cried the old man. but. "you make short work of this kind of affair. restless and uneasy. neighbor Caderousse. Morrel. and see how she will remind you that your hour is not yet come!" The bride blushed. every difficulty his been removed. which." replied Dantes." added he. nay!" cried Caderousse. my friend?" "Why. but in spite of all his efforts. Now. was lost amid the noisy felicitations of the company. "Upon my word. Mercedes is not yet your wife. that. however.

no. perceiving the affectionate eagerness of his father. . now found it difficult. laughingly." asked Danglars. to obtain a moment's tranquillity in which to drink to the health and prosperity of the bride and bride−groom. "it didn't take long to fix that." This prospect of fresh festivity redoubled the hilarity of the guests to such a degree. To−morrow morning I start for Paris. is all the time I shall be absent. 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 shall be back here by the first of March. and on the second I give my real marriage feast. four days to go. Everybody talked at once. that the elder Dantes." answered Dantes. in a timid tone. at the commencement of the repast. who. had commented upon the silence that prevailed. without waiting for a reply and each one seemed to be contented with expressing his or her own thoughts." answered Dantes. "don't imagine I am going to put you off in that shabby manner. and the same to return. Mercedes has no fortune. So. "No. Dantes. our papers were quickly written out. and certainly do not come very expensive. with one day to discharge the commission intrusted to me. you see. I have none to settle on her.Chapter 5 56 o'clock! Commend me to a sailor for going the quick way to work!" "But. "how did you manage about the other formalities −− the contract −− the settlement?" "The contract." This joke elicited a fresh burst of applause. amid the general din of voices. "So that what we presumed to be merely the betrothal feast turns out to be the actual wedding dinner!" said Danglars. Such as at the commencement of the repast had not been able to seat themselves according to their inclination rose unceremoniously. while Mercedes glanced at the clock and made an expressive gesture to Edmond. and sought out more agreeable companions. responded by a look of grateful pleasure.

I cannot help thinking it would have been a great pity to have served him that trick you were planning yesterday. and when I see him sitting there beside his pretty wife that is so soon to be. and you know we are expected in a quarter of an hour. "at first I certainly did feel somewhat uneasy as to what Fernand might be tempted to do. I knew there was no further cause for apprehension. but when I saw how completely he had mastered his feelings. whom Fernand seemed most anxious to avoid. as though seeking to avoid the hilarious mirth that rose in such deafening sounds." "Oh. Upon my soul. in utter silence. "Upon my word. he seemed to be enduring the tortures of the damned. there was no harm meant. to pace the farther end of the salon. −− "upon my word. "let us go directly!" His words were re−echoed by the whole party. when the beauty of the bride is concerned." said Caderousse." "Shall we not set forth?" asked the sweet." answered Danglars. he continued. he was among the first to quit the table. Dantes is a downright good fellow. "the sacrifice was no trifling one. even so far as to become one of his rival's attendants. united with the effect of the excellent wine he had partaken of. eagerly quitting the table." continued Danglars." "To be sure! −− to be sure!" cried Dantes. with vociferous cheers. that future captain of mine is a lucky dog! Gad." Caderousse looked full at Fernand −− he was ghastly pale. had joined him in a corner of the room.Chapter 5 57 Fernand's paleness appeared to have communicated itself to Danglars. I only wish he would let me take his place. unable to rest. had effaced every feeling of envy or jealousy at Dantes' good fortune. from whose mind the friendly treatment of Dantes. silvery voice of Mercedes. Caderousse approached him just as Danglars. "two o'clock has just struck. As for Fernand himself. "Certainly. and. .

I pray?" . I am the bearer of an order of arrest. slightly changing color. advanced with dignity." replied the magistrate. The sounds drew nearer. "in the name of the law!" As no attempt was made to prevent it. "May I venture to inquire the reason of this unexpected visit?" said M. with the clanking of swords and military accoutrements." "If it be so. addressing the magistrate. followed by four soldiers and a corporal. what is your pleasure with me?" "Edmond Dantes. and almost instantaneously the most deathlike stillness prevailed. saw him stagger and fall back. be fulfilled. whom he evidently knew. and although I most reluctantly perform the task assigned me. and said." replied the magistrate. "I arrest you in the name of the law!" "Me!" repeated Edmond. nevertheless. presented himself. who had been incessantly observing every change in Fernand's look and manner. wearing his official scarf. Uneasiness now yielded to the most extreme dread on the part of those present. it must." said a loud voice outside the room. spite of the agitation he could not but feel. Three blows were struck upon the panel of the door. meanwhile. among whom a vague feeling of curiosity and apprehension quelled every disposition to talk. At the same instant his ear caught a sort of indistinct sound on the stairs. against a seat placed near one of the open windows. "I am he. in a firm voice. and a magistrate. with an almost convulsive spasm. so as to deaden even the noisy mirth of the bridal party. The company looked at each other in consternation. Morrel. "rely upon every reparation being made. "there is doubtless some mistake easily explained. Who among the persons here assembled answers to the name of Edmond Dantes?" Every eye was turned towards the young man who. "and wherefore. followed by the measured tread of soldiery. "I demand admittance.Chapter 5 58 At this moment Danglars. the door was opened. then came a hum and buzz as of many voices.

He saw before him an officer delegated to enforce the law. however. as to address a petition to some cold marble effigy.Chapter 5 59 "I cannot inform you. and perfectly well knew that it would be as unavailing to seek pity from a magistrate decked with his official scarf." Caderousse then looked around for Fernand. and well deserves to bring double evil on those who have projected it. and cannot in the least make out what it is about." M. but you will be duly acquainted with the reasons that have rendered such a step necessary at the preliminary examination. "this. or the value of his freight. let me beg of you to calm your apprehensions. he kindly said. "How can I tell you?" replied he. Morrel felt that further resistance or remonstrance was useless. you know very well that I tore the paper to pieces. "My worthy friend. I suppose. so. and it is more than probable he will be set at liberty directly he has given the information required. There are situations which the heart of a father or a mother cannot be made to understand. who had assumed an air of utter surprise." . whether touching the health of his crew. utterly bewildered at all that is going on. sprang forward. 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. is a part of the trick you were concerting yesterday? All I can say is. like yourself. but he had disappeared. then." "What is the meaning of all this?" inquired Caderousse. He prayed and supplicated in terms so moving. in a hoarse and choking voice. The scene of the previous night now came back to his mind with startling clearness. "I am. besides. "I tell you again I have nothing whatever to do with it. to Danglars. that even the officer was touched." "Nonsense." said he. and." returned Danglars. frowningly. that if it be so. although firm in his duty. "So. 'tis an ill turn. of Danglars. Old Dantes. Your son has probably neglected some prescribed form or attention in registering his cargo.

preceded by the magistrate. "you merely threw it by −− I saw it lying in a corner. The prisoner heard the cry. "Good−by.Chapter 5 60 "No. you fool! −− what should you know about it? −− why." "Oh. to be sure!" responded Danglars. Never mind where he is. my good fellows. Mercedes −− we shall soon meet again!" Then the vehicle disappeared round one of the turnings of Fort Saint Nicholas. "nothing more than a mistake. and very likely I may not have to go so far as the prison to effect that." "Hold your tongue. and the vehicle drove off towards Marseilles. "Make yourselves quite easy. which sounded like the sob of a broken heart. adieu. who had now approached the group. depend upon it. after having exchanged a cheerful shake of the hand with all his sympathizing friends. dearest Edmond!" cried Mercedes." Dantes descended the staircase. merely saying. stretching out her arms to him from the balcony. "gone. had surrendered himself to the officer sent to arrest him. you did not!" answered Caderousse. as every prudent man ought to be. and leaning from the coach he called out. to look after his own affairs. let you and I go and see what is to be done for our poor friends. that's all. he got in. Dantes. "How do I know?" replied Danglars. I feel quite certain." During this conversation. followed by two soldiers and the magistrate. you were drunk!" "Where is Fernand?" inquired Caderousse. "Adieu. most likely. there is some little mistake to clear up. . and followed by the soldiers. A carriage awaited him at the door.

Instinctively Fernand drew back his chair. The old father and Mercedes remained for some time apart. "He is the cause of all this misery −− I am quite sure of it. and this was. and hurry to Marseilles. when released from the warm and affectionate embrace of old Dantes. "I don't think so. went to sit down at the first vacant place. who had never taken his eyes off Fernand." answered Danglars." "That's right!" exclaimed a multitude of voices. "one cannot be held responsible for every chance arrow shot into the air. Morrel." "You don't mention those who aided and abetted the deed." said Caderousse. I only hope the mischief will fall upon the head of whoever wrought it. by mere chance. "I will take the first conveyance I find. each absorbed in grief. then hastily swallowing it. 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. all of you!" cried M. and with a simultaneous burst of feeling rushed into each other's arms." answered the other. to Danglars. when the arrow lights point downward on somebody's head. poured out for himself a glass of water with a trembling hand. he's too stupid to imagine such a scheme.Chapter 5 61 "Wait for me here." whispered Caderousse. "go." . but at length the two poor victims of the same blow raised their eyes. Meanwhile Fernand made his appearance. "Surely. placed next to the seat on which poor Mercedes had fallen half fainting. whence I will bring you word how all is going on. indeed." "You can.

there is still hope!" "Hope!" repeated Danglars. I could only know what I was told respecting the merchandise with which the vessel was laden. "I think it just possible Dantes may have been detected with some trifling article on board ship considered here as contraband. my poor child. and discovered poor Dantes' hidden treasures. "Hope!" faintly murmured Fernand. . as for that. and that she took in her freight at Alexandria from Pastret's warehouse. and at Smyrna from Pascal's. paid no heed to this explanation of her lover's arrest." replied he. "my poor boy told me yesterday he had got a small case of coffee. "be comforted." said the afflicted old father. Danglars. "Come. and I beg I may not be asked for any further particulars. which she had hitherto tried to restrain. "What think you." exclaimed Danglars. Danglars. and another of tobacco for me!" "There.Chapter 5 62 Meantime the subject of the arrest was being canvassed in every different form. however." "Now I recollect." said the old man. "Now the mischief is out. I know she was loaded with cotton. now burst out in a violent fit of hysterical sobbing. that is all I was obliged to know. but the word seemed to die away on his pale agitated lips." Mercedes." said one of the party. you see. turning towards him. "of this event?" "Why. depend upon it the custom−house people went rummaging about the ship in our absence. and a convulsive spasm passed over his countenance. since you are the ship's supercargo?" "Why. Her grief. come." "But how could he have done so without your knowledge.

"but still he is charged" −− "With what?" inquired the elder Dantes. Danglars!" whispered Caderousse. where he quitted it. should any letters or other documents of a compromising character be found upon him. No doubt. "Here comes M. "What news?" exclaimed a general burst of voices. the old man sank into a chair." "Be silent. Morrel. He was very pale. "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. Now. Morrel. my friends. will it not be taken for granted that all who uphold him are his accomplices?" . you simpleton!" cried Danglars. I am determined to tell them all about it. "the thing has assumed a more serious aspect than I expected. now. "Ah. he is innocent!" sobbed forth Mercedes." replied M. with a mournful shake of his head. and passed a whole day in the island. Morrel back. Who can tell whether Dantes be innocent or guilty? The vessel did touch at Elba. "or I will not answer even for your own safety. indeed −− indeed. "That I believe!" answered M. A despairing cry escaped the pale lips of Mercedes. sir. "Alas." "Oh. we shall hear that our friend is released!" Mercedes and the old man rushed to meet the shipowner and greeted him at the door. but I cannot suffer a poor old man or an innocent girl to die of grief through your fault. "you have deceived me −− the trick you spoke of last night has been played.Chapter 5 63 "Good news! good news!" shouted forth one of the party stationed in the balcony on the lookout. grasping him by the arm.

de Villefort. of course he will be set at liberty. and leave things for the present to take their course. doubtfully. from M. the assistant procureur. my dear Danglars?" asked M. "Let us wait. who had now again become the friend and protector of Mercedes. Fernand. then. Morrel. if guilty. as. Caderousse readily perceived the solidity of this mode of reasoning. he overtook his supercargo and Caderousse." said he." After their departure. while the friends of Dantes conducted the now half−fainting man back to his abode. The rumor of Edmond's arrest as a Bonapartist agent was not slow in circulating throughout the city." "With all my heart!" replied Danglars." "Let us go. pleased to find the other so tractable. "that I considered the circumstance of his having anchored at the Island of Elba as a very suspicious circumstance. you know I told you. by all means. "Let us take ourselves out of the way. wistfully. If he be innocent." replied Danglars. "Suppose we wait a while. "Could you have believed such a thing possible?" "Why. he gazed. on Danglars. I cannot stay here any longer. and then caution supplanted generosity. on his return to the port for the purpose of gleaning fresh tidings of Dantes. "To be sure!" answered Danglars. casting a bewildered look on his companion. why. it is no use involving ourselves in a conspiracy.Chapter 5 64 With the rapid instinct of selfishness." "And did you mention these suspicions to any person beside myself?" . "Could you ever have credited such a thing. led the girl to her home. and see what comes of it.

who served under the other government. "You are a worthy fellow. and who does not altogether conceal what he thinks on the subject. 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." continued M. for somehow I have perceived a sort of coolness between you. and I had already thought of your interests in the event of poor Edmond having become captain of the Pharaon. Danglars −− 'tis well!" replied M. "You understand that. I should have feared to injure both Edmond and yourself. is bound to acquaint the shipowner with everything that occurs. had I divulged my own apprehensions to a soul." . Morrel. Then added in a low whisper. "Poor Dantes!" said Caderousse. and if he should have any reluctance to continue you in your post." "Is it possible you were so kind?" "Yes. on account of your uncle. M. Morrel." "But meanwhile. like myself." "The hypocrite!" murmured Danglars. I am too well aware that though a subordinate. you are strongly suspected of regretting the abdication of Napoleon." "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." "'Tis well. I had previously inquired of Dantes what was his opinion of you. "No one can deny his being a noble−hearted young fellow. indeed. Policar Morrel. there are many things he ought most carefully to conceal from all else.Chapter 5 65 "Certainly not!" returned Danglars.

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"Oh," replied Danglars, "since we cannot leave this port for the next three months, let us hope that ere the expiration of that period Dantes will be set at liberty." "No doubt; but in the meantime?" "I am entirely at your service, M. Morrel," answered Danglars. "You know that I am as capable of managing a ship as the most experienced captain in the service; and it will be so far advantageous to you to accept my services, 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." "Thanks, Danglars −− that will smooth over all difficulties. I fully authorize you at once to assume the command of the Pharaon, and look carefully to the unloading of her freight. Private misfortunes must never be allowed to interfere with business." "Be easy on that score, M. Morrel; but do you think we shall be permitted to see our poor Edmond?" "I will let you know that directly I have seen M. de Villefort, whom I shall endeavor to interest in Edmond's favor. I am aware he is a furious royalist; but, in spite of that, and of his being king's attorney, he is a man like ourselves, and I fancy not a bad sort of one." "Perhaps not," replied Danglars; "but I hear that he is ambitious, and that's rather against him." "Well, well," returned M. Morrel, "we shall see. But now hasten on board, I will join you there ere long." So saying, the worthy shipowner quitted the two allies, and proceeded in the direction of the Palais de Justice. "You see," said Danglars, addressing Caderousse, "the turn things have taken. Do you still feel any desire to stand up in his defence?"

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"Not the slightest, but yet it seems to me a shocking thing that a mere joke should lead to such consequences." "But who perpetrated that joke, let me ask? neither you nor myself, but Fernand; you knew very well that I threw the paper into a corner of the room −− indeed, I fancied I had destroyed it." "Oh, no," replied Caderousse, "that I can answer for, you did not. 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." "Well, then, if you did, depend upon it, Fernand picked it up, and either copied it or caused it to be copied; perhaps, even, he did not take the trouble of recopying it. And now I think of it, by Heavens, he may have sent the letter itself! Fortunately, for me, the handwriting was disguised." "Then you were aware of Dantes being engaged in a conspiracy?" "Not I. As I before said, I thought the whole thing was a joke, nothing more. It seems, however, that I have unconsciously stumbled upon the truth." "Still," argued Caderousse, "I would give a great deal if nothing of the kind had happened; or, at least, that I had had no hand in it. You will see, Danglars, that it will turn out an unlucky job for both of us." "Nonsense! If any harm come of it, it should fall on the guilty person; and that, you know, is Fernand. How can we be implicated in any way? All we have got to do is, to keep our own counsel, and remain perfectly quiet, not breathing a word to any living soul; and you will see that the storm will pass away without in the least affecting us." "Amen!" responded Caderousse, waving his hand in token of adieu to Danglars, and bending his steps towards the Allees de Meillan, moving his head to and fro, and muttering as he went, after the manner of one whose mind was overcharged with one absorbing idea.

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

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The Deputy Procureur du Roi. In one of the aristocratic mansions built by Puget in the Rue du Grand Cours opposite the Medusa fountain, a second marriage feast was being celebrated, almost at the same hour with the nuptial repast given by Dantes. In this case, however, although the occasion of the entertainment was similar, the company was strikingly dissimilar. Instead of a rude mixture of sailors, soldiers, and those belonging to the humblest grade of life, the present assembly was composed of the very flower of Marseilles society, −− magistrates who had resigned their office during the usurper's reign; officers who had deserted from the imperial army and joined forces with Conde; and younger members of families, brought up to hate and execrate the man whom five years of exile would convert into a martyr, and fifteen of restoration elevate to the rank of a god. The guests were still at table, and the heated and energetic conversation that prevailed betrayed the violent and vindictive passions that then agitated each dweller of the South, where unhappily, for five centuries religious strife had long given increased bitterness to the violence of party feeling. The emperor, now king of the petty Island of Elba, after having held sovereign sway over one−half of the world, counting as his subjects a small population of five or six thousand souls, −− after having been accustomed to hear the "Vive Napoleons" of a hundred and twenty millions of human

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beings, uttered in ten different languages, −− was looked upon here as a ruined man, separated forever from any fresh connection with France or claim to her throne. The magistrates freely discussed their political views; the military part of the company talked unreservedly of Moscow and Leipsic, while the women commented on the divorce of Josephine. It was not over the downfall of the man, but over the defeat of the Napoleonic idea, that they rejoiced, and in this they foresaw for themselves the bright and cheering prospect of a revivified political existence. An old man, decorated with the cross of Saint Louis, now rose and proposed the health of King Louis XVIII. It was the Marquis de Saint−Meran. This toast, recalling at once the patient exile of Hartwell and the peace−loving King of France, excited universal enthusiasm; glasses were elevated in the air a l'Anglais, and the ladies, snatching their bouquets from their fair bosoms, strewed the table with their floral treasures. In a word, an almost poetical fervor prevailed. "Ah," said the Marquise de Saint−Meran, a woman with a stern, forbidding eye, though still noble and distinguished in appearance, despite her fifty years −− "ah, these revolutionists, who have driven us from those very possessions they afterwards purchased for a mere trifle during the Reign of Terror, would be compelled to own, were they here, that all true devotion was on our side, since we were content to follow the fortunes of a falling monarch, while they, on the contrary, made their fortune by worshipping the rising sun; yes, yes, they could not help admitting that the king, for whom we sacrificed rank, wealth, and station was truly our `Louis the well−beloved,' while their wretched usurper his been, and ever will be, to them their evil genius, their `Napoleon the accursed.' Am I not right, Villefort?" "I beg your pardon, madame. I really must pray you to excuse me, but −− in truth −− I was not attending to the conversation."

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"Marquise, marquise!" interposed the old nobleman who had proposed the toast, "let the young people alone; let me tell you, on one's wedding day there are more agreeable subjects of conversation than dry politics." "Never mind, dearest mother," said a young and lovely girl, with a profusion of light brown hair, and eyes that seemed to float in liquid crystal, "'tis all my fault for seizing upon M. de Villefort, so as to prevent his listening to what you said. But there −− now take him −− he is your own for as long as you like. M. Villefort, I beg to remind you my mother speaks to you." "If the marquise will deign to repeat the words I but imperfectly caught, I shall be delighted to answer," said M. de Villefort. "Never mind, Renee," replied the marquise, with a look of tenderness that seemed out of keeping with her harsh dry features; but, however all other feelings may be withered in a woman's nature, there is always one bright smiling spot in the desert of her heart, and that is the shrine of maternal love. "I forgive you. What I was saying, Villefort, was, that the Bonapartists had not our sincerity, enthusiasm, or devotion." "They had, however, what supplied the place of those fine qualities," replied the young man, "and that was fanaticism. Napoleon is the Mahomet of the West, and is worshipped by his commonplace but ambitions followers, not only as a leader and lawgiver, but also as the personification of equality." "He!" cried the marquise: "Napoleon the type of equality! For mercy's sake, then, what would you call Robespierre? Come, come, do not strip the latter of his just rights to bestow them on the Corsican, who, to my mind, has usurped quite enough." "Nay, madame; I would place each of these heroes on his right pedestal −− that of Robespierre on his scaffold in the Place Louis Quinze; that of Napoleon on the column of the Place Vendome. The only difference consists in the opposite character of the equality advocated by these two

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men; one is the equality that elevates, the other is the equality that degrades; one brings a king within reach of the guillotine, the other elevates the people to a level with the throne. Observe," said Villefort, smiling, "I do not mean to deny that both these men were revolutionary scoundrels, and that the 9th Thermidor and the 4th of April, in the year 1814, were lucky days for France, worthy of being gratefully remembered by every friend to monarchy and civil order; and that explains how it comes to pass that, fallen, as I trust he is forever, Napoleon has still retained a train of parasitical satellites. Still, marquise, it has been so with other usurpers −− Cromwell, for instance, who was not half so bad as Napoleon, had his partisans and advocates." "Do you know, Villefort, that you are talking in a most dreadfully revolutionary strain? But I excuse it, it is impossible to expect the son of a Girondin to be free from a small spice of the old leaven." A deep crimson suffused the countenance of Villefort. "'Tis true, madame," answered he, "that my father was a Girondin, but he was not among the number of those who voted for the king's death; he was an equal sufferer with yourself during the Reign of Terror, and had well−nigh lost his head on the same scaffold on which your father perished." "True," replied the marquise, without wincing in the slightest degree at the tragic remembrance thus called up; "but bear in mind, if you please, that our respective parents underwent persecution and proscription from diametrically opposite principles; in proof of which I may remark, that while my family remained among the stanchest adherents of the exiled princes, your father lost no time in joining the new government; and that while the Citizen Noirtier was a Girondin, the Count Noirtier became a senator." "Dear mother," interposed Renee, "you know very well it was agreed that all these disagreeable reminiscences should forever be laid aside."

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

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"I am, at least, fearful of it. Napoleon, in the Island of Elba, is too near France, and his proximity keeps up the hopes of his partisans. Marseilles is filled with half−pay officers, who are daily, under one frivolous pretext or other, getting up quarrels with the royalists; from hence arise continual and fatal duels among the higher classes of persons, and assassinations in the lower." "You have heard, perhaps," said the Comte de Salvieux, one of M. de Saint−Meran's oldest friends, and chamberlain to the Comte d'Artois, "that the Holy Alliance purpose removing him from thence?" "Yes; they were talking about it when we left Paris," said M. de Saint−Meran; "and where is it decided to transfer him?" "To Saint Helena." "For heaven's sake, where is that?" asked the marquise. "An island situated on the other side of the equator, at least two thousand leagues from here," replied the count. "So much the better. As Villefort observes, it is a great act of folly to have left such a man between Corsica, where he was born, and Naples, of which his brother−in−law is king, and face to face with Italy, the sovereignty of which he coveted for his son." "Unfortunately," said Villefort, "there are the treaties of 1814, and we cannot molest Napoleon without breaking those compacts." "Oh, well, we shall find some way out of it," responded M. de Salvieux. "There wasn't any trouble over treaties when it was a question of shooting the poor Duc d'Enghien." "Well," said the marquise, "it seems probable that, by the aid of the Holy Alliance, we shall be rid of Napoleon; and we must trust to the vigilance of M. de Villefort to purify Marseilles of his partisans. The king is either a

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king or no king; if he be acknowledged as sovereign of France, he should be upheld in peace and tranquillity; 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." "Unfortunately, madame," answered Villefort, "the strong arm of the law is not called upon to interfere until the evil has taken place." "Then all he has got to do is to endeavor to repair it." "Nay, madame, the law is frequently powerless to effect this; all it can do is to avenge the wrong done." "Oh, M. de Villefort," cried a beautiful young creature, daughter to the Comte de Salvieux, and the cherished friend of Mademoiselle de Saint−Meran, "do try and get up some famous trial while we are at Marseilles. I never was in a law−court; I am told it is so very amusing!" "Amusing, certainly," replied the young man, "inasmuch as, 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 life. The prisoner whom you there see pale, agitated, and alarmed, instead of −− as is the case when a curtain falls on a tragedy −− going home to sup peacefully with his family, and then retiring to rest, that he may recommence his mimic woes on the morrow, −− is removed from your sight merely to be reconducted to his prison and delivered up to the executioner. I leave you to judge how far your nerves are calculated to bear you through such a scene. Of this, however, be assured, that should any favorable opportunity present itself, I will not fail to offer you the choice of being present." "For shame, M. de Villefort!" said Renee, becoming quite pale; "don't you see how you are frightening us? −− and yet you laugh." "What would you have? 'Tis like a duel. I have already recorded sentence of death, five or six times, against the movers of political conspiracies, and

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who can say how many daggers may be ready sharpened, and only waiting a favorable opportunity to be buried in my heart?" "Gracious heavens, M. de Villefort," said Renee, becoming more and more terrified; "you surely are not in earnest." "Indeed I am," replied the young magistrate with a smile; "and in the interesting trial that young lady is anxious to witness, the case would only be still more aggravated. Suppose, for instance, the prisoner, as is more than probable, to have served under Napoleon −− well, can you expect for an instant, that one accustomed, at the word of his commander, to rush fearlessly on the very bayonets of his foe, will scruple more to drive a stiletto into the heart of one he knows to be his personal enemy, than to slaughter his fellow−creatures, merely because bidden to do so by one he is bound to obey? Besides, one requires the excitement of being hateful in the eyes of the accused, in order to lash one's self into a state of sufficient vehemence and power. I would not choose to see the man against whom I pleaded smile, as though in mockery of my words. No; my pride is to see the accused pale, agitated, and as though beaten out of all composure by the fire of my eloquence." Renee uttered a smothered exclamation. "Bravo!" cried one of the guests; "that is what I call talking to some purpose." "Just the person we require at a time like the present," said a second. "What a splendid business that last case of yours was, my dear Villefort!" remarked a third; "I mean the trial of the man for murdering his father. Upon my word, you killed him ere the executioner had laid his hand upon him." "Oh, as for parricides, and such dreadful people as that," interposed Renee, "it matters very little what is done to them; but as regards poor unfortunate creatures whose only crime consists in having mixed themselves up in political intrigues" −−

Chapter 6


"Why, that is the very worst offence they could possibly commit; for, don't you see, Renee, the king is the father of his people, and he who shall plot or contrive aught against the life and safety of the parent of thirty−two millions of souls, is a parricide upon a fearfully great scale?" "I don't know anything about that," replied Renee; "but, M. de Villefort, you have promised me −− have you not? −− always to show mercy to those I plead for." "Make yourself quite easy on that point," answered Villefort, with one of his sweetest smiles; "you and I will always consult upon our verdicts." "My love," said the marquise, "attend to your doves, your lap−dogs, and embroidery, but do not meddle with what you do not understand. Nowadays the military profession is in abeyance and the magisterial robe is the badge of honor. There is a wise Latin proverb that is very much in point." "Cedant arma togae," said Villefort with a bow. "I cannot speak Latin," responded the marquise. "Well," said Renee, "I cannot help regretting you had not chosen some other profession than your own −− a physician, for instance. Do you know I always felt a shudder at the idea of even a destroying angel?" "Dear, good Renee," whispered Villefort, as he gazed with unutterable tenderness on the lovely speaker. "Let us hope, my child," cried the marquis, "that M. de Villefort may prove the moral and political physician of this province; if so, he will have achieved a noble work." "And one which will go far to efface the recollection of his father's conduct," added the incorrigible marquise.

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"Madame," replied Villefort, with a mournful smile, "I have already had the honor to observe that my father has −− at least, I hope so −− abjured his past errors, and that he is, at the present moment, a firm and zealous friend to religion and order −− a better royalist, possibly, than his son; for he has to atone for past dereliction, while I have no other impulse than warm, decided preference and conviction." Having made this well−turned speech, Villefort looked carefully around to mark the effect of his oratory, much as he would have done had he been addressing the bench in open court. "Do you know, my dear Villefort," cried the Comte de Salvieux, "that is exactly what I myself said the other day at the Tuileries, 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; and I assure you he seemed fully to comprehend that this mode of reconciling political differences was based upon sound and excellent principles. Then the king, who, without our suspecting it, had overheard our conversation, interrupted us by saying, `Villefort' −− observe that the king did not pronounce the word Noirtier, but, on the contrary, placed considerable emphasis on that of Villefort −− `Villefort,' said his majesty, `is a young man of great judgment and discretion, who will be sure to make a figure in his profession; I like him much, and it gave me great pleasure to hear that he was about to become the son−in−law of the Marquis and Marquise de Saint−Meran. I should myself have recommended the match, had not the noble marquis anticipated my wishes by requesting my consent to it.'" "Is it possible the king could have condescended so far as to express himself so favorably of me?" asked the enraptured Villefort. "I give you his very words; and if the marquis chooses to be candid, he will confess that they perfectly agree with what his majesty said to him, when he went six months ago to consult him upon the subject of your espousing his daughter." "That is true," answered the marquis.

Chapter 6


"How much do I owe this gracious prince! What is there I would not do to evince my earnest gratitude!" "That is right," cried the marquise. "I love to see you thus. Now, then, were a conspirator to fall into your hands, he would be most welcome." "For my part, dear mother." interposed Renee, "I trust your wishes will not prosper, and that Providence will only permit petty offenders, poor debtors, and miserable cheats to fall into M. de Villefort's hands, −− then I shall be contented." "Just the same as though you prayed that a physician might only be called upon to prescribe for headaches, measles, and the stings of wasps, or any other slight affection of the epidermis. If you wish to see me the king's attorney, you must desire for me some of those violent and dangerous diseases from the cure of which so much honor redounds to the physician." At this moment, and as though the utterance of Villefort's wish had sufficed to effect its accomplishment, a servant entered the room, and whispered a few words in his ear. Villefort immediately rose from table and quitted the room upon the plea of urgent business; he soon, however, returned, his whole face beaming with delight. Renee regarded him with fond affection; and certainly his handsome features, lit up as they then were with more than usual fire and animation, seemed formed to excite the innocent admiration with which she gazed on her graceful and intelligent lover. "You were wishing just now," said Villefort, addressing her, "that I were a doctor instead of a lawyer. Well, I at least resemble the disciples of Esculapius in one thing −− that of not being able to call a day my own, not even that of my betrothal." "And wherefore were you called away just now?" asked Mademoiselle de Saint−Meran, with an air of deep interest. "For a very serious matter, which bids fair to make work for the executioner."

Chapter 6


"How dreadful!" exclaimed Renee, turning pale. "Is it possible?" burst simultaneously from all who were near enough to the magistrate to hear his words. "Why, if my information prove correct, a sort of Bonaparte conspiracy has just been discovered." "Can I believe my ears?" cried the marquise. "I will read you the letter containing the accusation, at least," said Villefort: −− "`The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and the religions institutions of his country, that one named Edmond Dantes, mate of the ship Pharaon, this day arrived from Smyrna, after having touched at Naples and Porto−Ferrajo, has been the bearer of a letter from Murat to the usurper, and again taken charge of another letter from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris. Ample corroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting the above−mentioned Edmond Dantes, who either carries the letter for Paris about with him, or has it at his father's abode. Should it not be found in the possession of father or son, then it will assuredly be discovered in the cabin belonging to the said Dantes on board the Pharaon.'" "But," said Renee, "this letter, which, after all, is but an anonymous scrawl, is not even addressed to you, but to the king's attorney." "True; but that gentleman being absent, his secretary, by his orders, opened his letters; thinking this one of importance, he sent for me, but not finding me, took upon himself to give the necessary orders for arresting the accused party." "Then the guilty person is absolutely in custody?" said the marquise.

Chapter 6


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

Chapter 7


"Upon my word, child!" exclaimed the angry marquise, "your folly exceeds all bounds. 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. "Nay, madame, I pray you pardon this little traitor. I promise you that to make up for her want of loyalty, I will be most inflexibly severe;" then casting an expressive glance at his betrothed, which seemed to say, "Fear not, for your dear sake my justice shall be tempered with mercy," and receiving a sweet and approving smile in return, Villefort quitted the room.

Chapter 7
The Examination. No sooner had Villefort left the salon, than he assumed the grave air of a man who holds the balance of life and death in his hands. Now, in spite of the mobility of his countenance, the command of which, like a finished actor, he had carefully studied before the glass, it was by no means easy for him to assume an air of judicial severity. Except the recollection of the line of politics his father had adopted, and which might interfere, unless he acted with the greatest prudence, with his own career, Gerard de Villefort was as happy as a man could be. Already rich, he held a high official situation, though only twenty−seven. He was about to marry a young and charming woman, whom he loved, not passionately, but reasonably, as became a deputy attorney of the king; and besides her personal attractions, which were very great, Mademoiselle de Saint−Meran's family possessed considerable political influence, which they would, of course, exert in his favor. The dowry of his wife amounted to fifty thousand crowns, and he had, besides, the prospect of seeing her fortune increased to half a million at her father's death. These considerations naturally gave Villefort a feeling of such complete felicity that his mind was fairly dazzled in its contemplation.

Chapter 7


At the door he met the commissary of police, who was waiting for him. The sight of this officer recalled Villefort from the third heaven to earth; he composed his face, as we have before described, and said, "I have read the letter, sir, and you have acted rightly in arresting this man; now inform me what you have discovered concerning him and the conspiracy." "We know nothing as yet of the conspiracy, monsieur; all the papers found have been sealed up and placed on your desk. The prisoner himself is named Edmond Dantes, mate on board the three−master the Pharaon, trading in cotton with Alexandria and Smyrna, and belonging to Morrel & Son, of Marseilles." "Before he entered the merchant service, had he ever served in the marines?" "Oh, no, monsieur, he is very young." "How old?" "Nineteen or twenty at the most." At this moment, and as Villefort had arrived at the corner of the Rue des Conseils, a man, who seemed to have been waiting for him, approached; it was M. Morrel. "Ah, M. de Villefort," cried he, "I am delighted to see you. Some of your people have committed the strangest mistake −− they have just arrested Edmond Dantes, mate of my vessel." "I know it, monsieur," replied Villefort, "and I am now going to examine him." "Oh," said Morrel, carried away by his friendship, "you do not know him, and I do. He is the most estimable, the most trustworthy creature in the world, and I will venture to say, there is not a better seaman in all the merchant service. Oh, M. de Villefort, I beseech your indulgence for him."

Chapter 7


Villefort, as we have seen, belonged to the aristocratic party at Marseilles, Morrel to the plebeian; the first was a royalist, the other suspected of Bonapartism. Villefort looked disdainfully at Morrel, and replied, −− "You are aware, monsieur, that a man may be estimable and trustworthy in private life, and the best seaman in the merchant service, and yet be, politically speaking, a great criminal. Is it not true?" The magistrate laid emphasis on these words, as if he wished to apply them to the owner himself, while his eyes seemed to plunge into the heart of one who, interceding for another, had himself need of indulgence. Morrel reddened, for his own conscience was not quite clear on politics; besides, what Dantes had told him of his interview with the grand−marshal, and what the emperor had said to him, embarrassed him. He replied, however, −− "I entreat you, M. de Villefort, be, as you always are, kind and equitable, and give him back to us soon." This give us sounded revolutionary in the deputy's ears. "Ah, ah," murmured he, "is Dantes then a member of some Carbonari society, that his protector thus employs the collective form? He was, if I recollect, arrested in a tavern, in company with a great many others." Then he added, "Monsieur, you may rest assured I shall perform my duty impartially, and that if he be innocent you shall not have appealed to me in vain; should he, however, be guilty, in this present epoch, impunity would furnish a dangerous example, and I must do my duty." As he had now arrived at the door of his own house, which adjoined the Palais de Justice, he entered, after having, coldly saluted the shipowner, who stood, as if petrified, on the spot where Villefort had left him. The ante−chamber was full of police agents and gendarmes, in the midst of whom, carefully watched, but calm and smiling, stood the prisoner. Villefort traversed the ante−chamber, cast a side glance at Dantes, and taking a packet which a gendarme offered him, disappeared, saying, "Bring in the prisoner."

Chapter 7


Rapid as had been Villefort's glance, it had served to give him an idea of the man he was about to interrogate. He had recognized intelligence in the high forehead, courage in the dark eye and bent brow, and frankness in the thick lips that showed a set of pearly teeth. Villefort's first impression was favorable; but he had been so often warned to mistrust first impulses, that he applied the maxim to the impression, forgetting the difference between the two words. He stifled, therefore, the feelings of compassion that were rising, composed his features, and sat down, grim and sombre, at his desk. An instant after Dantes entered. He was pale, but calm and collected, and saluting his judge with easy politeness, looked round for a seat, as if he had been in M. Morrel's salon. It was then that he encountered for the first time Villefort's look, −− that look peculiar to the magistrate, who, while seeming to read the thoughts of others, betrays nothing of his own. "Who and what are you?" demanded Villefort, turning over a pile of papers, containing information relative to the prisoner, that a police agent had given to him on his entry, and that, already, in an hour's time, had swelled to voluminous proportions, thanks to the corrupt espionage of which "the accused" is always made the victim. "My name is Edmond Dantes," replied the young man calmly; "I am mate of the Pharaon, belonging to Messrs. Morrel & Son." "Your age?" continued Villefort. "Nineteen," returned Dantes. "What were you doing at the moment you were arrested?" "I was at the festival of my marriage, monsieur," said the young man, his voice slightly tremulous, so great was the contrast between that happy moment and the painful ceremony he was now undergoing; so great was the contrast between the sombre aspect of M. de Villefort and the radiant face of Mercedes.

Chapter 7


"You were at the festival of your marriage?" said the deputy, shuddering in spite of himself. "Yes, monsieur; I am on the point of marrying a young girl I have been attached to for three years." Villefort, impassive as he was, was struck with this coincidence; and the tremulous voice of Dantes, surprised in the midst of his happiness, struck a sympathetic chord in his own bosom −− he also was on the point of being married, and he was summoned from his own happiness to destroy that of another. "This philosophic reflection," thought he, "will make a great sensation at M. de Saint−Meran's;" and he arranged mentally, while Dantes awaited further questions, the antithesis by which orators often create a reputation for eloquence. When this speech was arranged, Villefort turned to Dantes. "Go on, sir," said he. "What would you have me say?" "Give all the information in your power." "Tell me on which point you desire information, and I will tell all I know; only," added he, with a smile, "I warn you I know very little." "Have you served under the usurper?" "I was about to be mustered into the Royal Marines when he fell." "It is reported your political opinions are extreme," said Villefort, who had never heard anything of the kind, but was not sorry to make this inquiry, as if it were an accusation. "My political opinions!" replied Dantes. "Alas, sir, I never had any opinions. I am hardly nineteen; I know nothing; I have no part to play. If I obtain the situation I desire, I shall owe it to M. Morrel. Thus all my opinions −− I will not say public, but private −− are confined to these three sentiment, −− I love my father, I respect M. Morrel, and I adore Mercedes.

Chapter 7


This, sir, is all I can tell you, and you see how uninteresting it is." As Dantes spoke, Villefort gazed at his ingenuous and open countenance, and recollected the words of Renee, who, without knowing who the culprit was, had besought his indulgence for him. With the deputy's knowledge of crime and criminals, every word the young man uttered convinced him more and more of his innocence. This lad, for he was scarcely a man, −− simple, natural, eloquent with that eloquence of the heart never found when sought for; full of affection for everybody, because he was happy, and because happiness renders even the wicked good −− extended his affection even to his judge, spite of Villefort's severe look and stern accent. Dantes seemed full of kindness. "Pardieu," said Villefort, "he is a noble fellow. I hope I shall gain Renee's favor easily by obeying the first command she ever imposed on me. I shall have at least a pressure of the hand in public, and a sweet kiss in private." Full of this idea, Villefort's face became so joyous, that when he turned to Dantes, the latter, who had watched the change on his physiognomy, was smiling also. "Sir," said Villefort, "have you any enemies, at least, that you know." "I have enemies?" replied Dantes; "my position is not sufficiently elevated for that. As for my disposition, that is, perhaps, somewhat too hasty; but I have striven to repress it. I have had ten or twelve sailors under me, and if you question them, they will tell you that they love and respect me, not as a father, for I am too young, but as an elder brother." "But you may have excited jealousy. You are about to become captain at nineteen −− an elevated post; you are about to marry a pretty girl, who loves you; and these two pieces of good fortune may have excited the envy of some one." "You are right; you know men better than I do, and what you say may possibly be the case, I confess; but if such persons are among my acquaintances I prefer not to know it, because then I should be forced to hate them."

Chapter 7


"You are wrong; you should always strive to see clearly around you. You seem a worthy young man; I will depart from the strict line of my duty to aid you in discovering the author of this accusation. Here is the paper; do you know the writing?" As he spoke, Villefort drew the letter from his pocket, and presented it to Dantes. Dantes read it. A cloud passed over his brow as he said, −− "No, monsieur, I do not know the writing, and yet it is tolerably plain. Whoever did it writes well. I am very fortunate," added he, looking gratefully at Villefort, "to be examined by such a man as you; for this envious person is a real enemy." And by the rapid glance that the young man's eyes shot forth, Villefort saw how much energy lay hid beneath this mildness. "Now," said the deputy, "answer me frankly, not as a prisoner to a judge, but as one man to another who takes an interest in him, 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. "None at all. I will tell you the real facts. I swear by my honor as a sailor, by my love for Mercedes, by the life of my father" −− "Speak, monsieur," said Villefort. Then, internally, "If Renee could see me, I hope she would be satisfied, and would no longer call me a decapitator." "Well, when we quitted Naples, Captain Leclere was attacked with a brain fever. As we had no doctor on board, and he was so anxious to arrive at Elba, that he would not touch at any other port, his disorder rose to such a height, that at the end of the third day, feeling he was dying, he called me to him. `My dear Dantes,' said he, `swear to perform what I am going to tell you, for it is a matter of the deepest importance.' "`I swear, captain,' replied I. "`Well, as after my death the command devolves on you as mate, assume the command, and bear up for the Island of Elba, disembark at

Chapter 7


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

Chapter 7


"I am free, then, sir?" cried Dantes joyfully. "Yes; but first give me this letter." "You have it already, for it was taken from me with some others which I see in that packet." "Stop a moment," said the deputy, as Dantes took his hat and gloves. "To whom is it addressed?" "To Monsieur Noirtier, Rue Coq−Heron, Paris." Had a thunderbolt fallen into the room, Villefort could not have been more stupefied. He sank into his seat, and hastily turning over the packet, drew forth the fatal letter, at which he glanced with an expression of terror. "M. Noirtier, Rue Coq−Heron, No. 13," murmured he, growing still paler. "Yes," said Dantes; "do you know him?" "No," replied Villefort; "a faithful servant of the king does not know conspirators." "It is a conspiracy, then?" asked Dantes, who after believing himself free, now began to feel a tenfold alarm. "I have, however, already told you, sir, I was entirely ignorant of the contents of the letter." "Yes; but you knew the name of the person to whom it was addressed," said Villefort. "I was forced to read the address to know to whom to give it." "Have you shown this letter to any one?" asked Villefort, becoming still more pale. "To no one, on my honor."

Chapter 7


"Everybody is ignorant that you are the bearer of a letter from the Island of Elba, and addressed to M. Noirtier?" "Everybody, except the person who gave it to me." "And that was too much, far too much," murmured Villefort. Villefort's brow darkened more and more, his white lips and clinched teeth filled Dantes with apprehension. After reading the letter, Villefort covered his face with his hands. "Oh," said Dantes timidly, "what is the matter?" Villefort made no answer, but raised his head at the expiration of a few seconds, and again perused the letter. "And you say that you are ignorant of the contents of this letter?" "I give you my word of honor, sir," said Dantes; "but what is the matter? You are ill −− shall I ring for assistance? −− shall I call?" "No," said Villefort, rising hastily; "stay where you are. It is for me to give orders here, and not you." "Monsieur," replied Dantes proudly, "it was only to summon assistance for you." "I want none; it was a temporary indisposition. Attend to yourself; answer me." Dantes waited, expecting a question, but in vain. Villefort fell back on his chair, passed his hand over his brow, moist with perspiration, and, for the third time, read the letter. "Oh, if he knows the contents of this!" murmured he, "and that Noirtier is the father of Villefort, I am lost!" And he fixed his eyes upon Edmond as if he would have penetrated his thoughts. "Oh, it is impossible to doubt it," cried he, suddenly.

Chapter 7


"In heaven's name!" cried the unhappy young man, "if you doubt me, question me; I will answer you." Villefort made a violent effort, and in a tone he strove to render firm, −− "Sir," said he, "I am no longer able, as I had hoped, to restore you immediately to liberty; before doing so, I must consult the trial justice; what my own feeling is you already know." "Oh, monsieur," cried Dantes, "you have been rather a friend than a judge." "Well, I must detain you some time longer, but I will strive to make it as short as possible. The principal charge against you is this letter, and you see" −− Villefort approached the fire, cast it in, and waited until it was entirely consumed. "You see, I destroy it?" "Oh," exclaimed Dantes, "you are goodness itself." "Listen," continued Villefort; "you can now have confidence in me after what I have done." "Oh, command, and I will obey." "Listen; this is not a command, but advice I give you." "Speak, and I will follow your advice." "I shall detain you until this evening in the Palais de Justice. Should any one else interrogate you, say to him what you have said to me, but do not breathe a word of this letter." "I promise." It was Villefort who seemed to entreat, and the prisoner who reassured him.

Chapter 7


"You see," continued he, glancing toward the grate, where fragments of burnt paper fluttered in the flames, "the letter is destroyed; you and I alone know of its existence; should you, therefore, be questioned, deny all knowledge of it −− deny it boldly, and you are saved." "Be satisfied; I will deny it." "It was the only letter you had?" "It was." "Swear it." "I swear it." Villefort rang. A police agent entered. Villefort whispered some words in his ear, to which the officer replied by a motion of his head. "Follow him," said Villefort to Dantes. Dantes saluted Villefort and retired. Hardly had the door closed when Villefort threw himself half−fainting into a chair. "Alas, alas," murmured he, "if the procureur himself had been at Marseilles I should have been ruined. This accursed letter would have destroyed all my hopes. Oh, my father, must your past career always interfere with my successes?" Suddenly a light passed over his face, a smile played round his set mouth, and his haggard eyes were fixed in thought. "This will do," said he, "and from this letter, which might have ruined me, I will make my fortune. Now to the work I have in hand." And after having assured himself that the prisoner was gone, the deputy procureur hastened to the house of his betrothed.

Chapter 8


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

Chapter 8


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

he had nothing to apprehend? Had not Villefort in his presence destroyed the fatal letter." Dantes. in the Frioul and outside the inner harbor. He was not bound. a shove sent the boat adrift. between the gendarmes." "But still" −− "We are forbidden to give you any explanation.Chapter 8 95 The soldiers looked at Dantes with an air of stupid curiosity. for he passed before La Reserve. were now off the Anse du Pharo. where he had that morning been so happy. and so he remained silent. They had passed the Tete de Morte. At a shout from the boat. they were going to leave him on some distant point. as Dantes knew. knew that nothing would be more absurd than to question subordinates. had not the deputy. but he soon sighed. and about to double the battery. Besides. In an instant he was placed in the stern−sheets of the boat. Dantes folded his hands. who had been so kind to him. raised his eyes to heaven. the chain that closes the mouth of the port was lowered and in a second they were. this seemed a good augury. while the officer stationed himself at the bow. and now through the open windows came the laughter and revelry of a ball. "Whither are you taking me?" asked he. the only proof against him? . The most vague and wild thoughts passed through his mind. perhaps. nor had they made any attempt to handcuff him. The boat they were in could not make a long voyage. told him that provided he did not pronounce the dreaded name of Noirtier. he thought. there was no vessel at anchor outside the harbor. "You will soon know. who were forbidden to reply. The prisoner's first feeling was of joy at again breathing the pure air −− for air is freedom. trained in discipline. and prayed fervently. The boat continued her voyage. This manoeuvre was incomprehensible to Dantes. and four sturdy oarsmen impelled it rapidly towards the Pilon.

and were now opposite the Point des Catalans. and I promise you on my honor I will submit to my fate. on the right. "I see no great harm in telling him now. for it was there Mercedes dwelt. An intervening elevation of land hid the light.Chapter 8 96 He waited silently. striving to pierce through the darkness. Dantes turned to the nearest gendarme. tell me where you are conducting me. they had shipped their oars and hoisted sail. In spite of his repugnance to address the guards." said he. While he had been absorbed in thought. his eyes fixed upon the light. −− "Comrade. to tell me where we are going. I have no idea. Dantes turned and perceived that they had got out to sea." and the gendarme replied. where the lighthouse stood. It seemed to the prisoner that he could distinguish a feminine form on the beach. and Dantes saw that it came from Mercedes' chamber. and a sailor. They had left the Ile Ratonneau. What would his guards think if they heard him shout like a madman? He remained silent. but the prisoner thought only of Mercedes. the boat went on. thought accused of treason. A loud cry could be heard by her. But pride restrained him and he did not utter it." . the boat was now moving with the wind. I am Captain Dantes. Mercedes was the only one awake in the whole settlement. 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. a loyal Frenchman. and taking his hand. and yet you do not know where you are going?" "On my honor. as a Christian and a soldier. −− "You are a native of Marseilles. who returned for answer a sign that said. "I adjure you." The gendarme looked irresolutely at his companion.

which has for more than three hundred years furnished food for so many wild legends. and good thick walls. seemed to Dantes like a scaffold to a malefactor. or an hour. . "The Chateau d'If?" cried he. I entreat." "I swear to you it is true." Dantes rose and looked forward. Come. even if I intended. "it is only used for political prisoners." "But my orders." "That is impossible. Are there any magistrates or judges at the Chateau d'If?" "There are only. You see I cannot escape. come. "a governor." "Look round you then. "what are we going there for?" The gendarme smiled." said Dantes. or have never been outside the harbor. I have committed no crime." "Unless you are blind. "I am not going there to be imprisoned. turnkeys." said the gendarme. Tell me." "I do not. you must know. do not look so astonished." "Your orders do not forbid your telling me what I must know in ten minutes.Chapter 8 97 "Have you no idea whatever?" "None at all." Dantes pressed the gendarme's hand as though he would crush it. in half an hour. when he saw rise within a hundred yards of him the black and frowning rock on which stands the Chateau d'If. a garrison. or you will make me think you are laughing at me in return for my good nature. This gloomy fortress.

de Villefort's promise." "Without any inquiry. and Dantes guessed they were at the end of the voyage. comrades." said the gendarme. de Villefort's promises?" "I do not know what M. help!" By a rapid movement. I have disobeyed my first order. without any formality?" "All the formalities have been gone through. the inquiry is already made. Dantes sprang forward to precipitate himself into the sea. One of the sailors leaped on shore. which the gendarme's practiced eye had perceived. and that they were mooring the boat. my friend. de Villefort promised you. and if you move. but I will not disobey the second. He remained motionless. For a moment the idea of struggling crossed his mind. But he bethought him of M. but there is no occasion to squeeze so hard. in spite of M. but gnashing his teeth and wringing his hands with fury." And he levelled his carbine at Dantes.Chapter 8 98 "You think. "believe soft−spoken gentlemen again! Harkye. who felt the muzzle against his temple. I will blow your brains out. But what are you doing? Help. placing his knee on his chest. besides. a cord creaked as it ran through a pulley. but four vigorous arms seized him as his feet quitted the bottom of the boat. and of so ending the unexpected evil that had overtaken him. At this moment the boat came to a landing with a violent shock. then. "Good!" said the gendarme. "but I know we are taking you to the Chateau d'If. . and." said he." "And so. "that I am taken to the Chateau d'If to be imprisoned there?" "It is probable. He fell back cursing with rage. death in a boat from the hand of a gendarme seemed too terrible.

In the meantime there is bread. perhaps. "Here is your chamber for to−night. ill−clothed. he was in a court surrounded by high walls. The prisoner followed his guide. he knew vaguely that he was ascending a flight of steps. Dantes made no resistance. which the prisoners look upon with utter despair. while the police officer carrying a musket with fixed bayonet followed behind. an under−jailer. and fresh straw. a lamp placed on a stool illumined the apartment faintly. I will take him to his cell. during which he strove to collect his thoughts. The orders came. They seemed awaiting orders." replied the gendarmes. "It is late. "Here. water. who led him into a room almost under ground. To−morrow. and of sullen appearance. he may change you. They waited upwards of ten minutes. but all this indistinctly as through a mist. he was like a man in a dream: he saw soldiers drawn up on the embankment. and dragged him towards the steps that lead to the gate of the fortress." "Go!" said the gendarmes. taking him by the arms and coat−collar. he heard the measured tread of sentinels. and as they passed before the light he saw the barrels of their muskets shine. He did not even see the ocean. "Where is the prisoner?" said a voice. . "Let him follow me. and that the door closed behind him. Certain Dantes could not escape. and showed Dantes the features of his conductor. he was conscious that he passed through a door. the gendarmes released him. and that is all a prisoner can wish for. forced him to rise." said he. They halted for a minute. that terrible barrier against freedom. and the governor is asleep. thrusting Dantes forward. He looked around. whose bare and reeking walls seemed as though impregnated with tears.Chapter 8 99 His guards.

" 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. that during his journey hither he had sat so still. the jailer disappeared. a dozen times." "Do you wish for anything?" "I wish to see the governor. All his emotion then burst forth. whereas he might. He touched him on the shoulder. but the door closed. He found the prisoner in the same position. and. The jailer stared. With the first dawn of day the jailer returned. he scarcely tasted food. and without sleep." replied Dantes. thanks to his powers . "I do not know. he cast himself on the ground. "Have you not slept?" said the jailer. have plunged into the sea." The jailer shrugged his shoulders and left the chamber. and stretched forth his hands towards the open door. One thought in particular tormented him: namely.Chapter 8 100 Goodnight. He had passed the night standing. Dantes followed him with his eyes. his eyes swollen with weeping. "I do not know. weeping bitterly. with orders to leave Dantes where he was. and asking himself what crime he had committed that he was thus punished. but walked round and round the cell like a wild beast in its cage. Dantes was alone in darkness and in silence −− cold as the shadows that he felt breathe on his burning forehead. Dantes appeared not to perceive him. "Are you hungry?" continued he. leaving stamped upon the prisoner's mind the dim reflection of the dripping walls of his dungeon. Edmond started. The day passed thus. as if fixed there. The jailer advanced.

" "I have already told you it was impossible. then?" "Better fare." "Why so?" "Because it is against prison rules. whereas he was now confined in the Chateau d'If. and prisoners must not even ask for it. ignorant of the future destiny of his father and Mercedes. "are you more reasonable to−day?" Dantes made no reply. and happy with Mercedes and his father. concealed himself until the arrival of a Genoese or Spanish vessel. if you pay for it. "Well. the jailer came again. and leave to walk about. he would have been free. I am satisfied with my food. and all this because he had trusted to Villefort's promise. cheer up." . He spoke Italian like a Tuscan. and Dantes threw himself furiously down on his straw." "What is allowed. I will not bring you any more to eat. and Spanish like a Castilian. He had no fears as to how he should live −− good seamen are welcome everywhere. where Mercedes and his father could have joined him. books. "Come. is there anything that I can do for you?" "I wish to see the governor. have gained the shore. The next morning at the same hour.Chapter 8 101 of swimming. The thought was maddening. but I wish to see the governor." said the jailer. that impregnable fortress." "If you worry me by repeating the same thing. escaped to Spain or Italy." "I do not want books. and do not care to walk about. for which he was famous.

I am not mad. then. but if you are very well behaved you will be allowed to walk about. and as every prisoner is worth ten sous a day to his jailer. and if he chooses to reply. we have an instance here. a month −− six months −− a year. unfortunately." "But. who was in this chamber before you. or you will be mad in a fortnight. "do not always brood over what is impossible. "how long shall I have to wait?" "Ah. he replied in a more subdued tone." The jailer saw by his tone he would be happy to die." said the jailer. "What you ask is impossible." "You think so?" "Yes. and some day you will meet the governor. "I am not an abbe. I wish to see him at once." "It is too long a time. then?" "No. it was by always offering a million of francs to the governor for his liberty that an abbe became mad. that is his affair." ." asked Dantes. I shall die of hunger −− that is all." "Listen!" said Dantes.Chapter 8 102 "Well. I am not. he was put in a dungeon." "Ah." "Was he liberated. but at present." "How long has he left it?" "Two years. perhaps I shall be." said Edmond. "if you do not. I will make you another offer.

then. "By the governor's orders. since you will have it so. I will send word to the governor. dropping the stool and sitting on it as if he were in reality mad. we must put the madman with the madmen." Dantes whirled the stool round his head." "Well. fortunately." said he. if you refuse at least to tell Mercedes I am here. "mark this. The abbe began like you. and in three days you will be like him." said the jailer. and were detected." "Threats!" cried the jailer." The soldiers seized Dantes. who followed passively. "Yes." said the corporal. all right. I should lose my place." "To the dungeon. there are dungeons here." returned Dantes. "you are certainly going mad. so that I should be a great fool to run such a risk for three hundred. retreating and putting himself on the defensive. "conduct the prisoner to the tier beneath. "all right. The jailer went out." "If I took them. and returned in an instant with a corporal and four soldiers. I will some day hide myself behind the door. and give her two lines from me.Chapter 8 103 "What is that?" "I do not offer you a million." said Dantes. and when you enter I will dash out your brains with this stool. but I will give you a hundred crowns if. but. "All right. the first time you go to Marseilles. you will seek out a young girl named Mercedes. . because I have it not. which is worth two thousand francs a year. at the Catalans. mad enough to tie up." "Very well.

and Dantes advanced with outstretched hands until he touched the wall. remarking the cloud on Villefort's brow.Chapter 9 104 He descended fifteen steps. Villefort had. it is really a serious matter. "Marquise. he then sat down in the corner until his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. what is the matter?" said one. "Well. approaching his future mother−in−law. so. Brutus. "I request your pardon for thus leaving you." "Are we threatened with a fresh Reign of Terror?" asked another. "So serious that I must take leave of you for a few days. and the door of a dungeon was opened. then?" asked the marquis. anxiously awaiting him. as we have said. and on entering the house found that the guests whom he had left at table were taking coffee in the salon. "Speak out. Renee was." added he. The jailer was right. turning to Renee. and his entrance was followed by a general exclamation." . and he was thrust in. Will the marquis honor me by a few moments' private conversation?" "Ah. Royalist. "judge for yourself if it be not important." said Villefort. "Has the Corsican ogre broken loose?" cried a third. Guardian of the State. hastened back to Madame de Saint−Meran's in the Place du Grand Cours. Decapitator. The door closed. Chapter 9 The Evening of the Betrothal. Dantes wanted but little of being utterly mad. with all the rest of the company.

marquis. "let us lose no time.Chapter 9 105 "You are going to leave us?" cried Renee. seven or eight hundred thousand francs." "Then sell out −− sell out. "Alas. "Yes. "That. but if you have any commissions for Paris. "Well. perhaps even now I shall arrive too late. please. then!" ." "Then give me a letter to him. madame. "I must!" "Where. but have you any landed property?" "All my fortune is in the funds. and will with pleasure undertake them." The marquis took his arm." "But how can I sell out here?" "You have a broker." "The deuce you say!" replied the marquis. is an official secret. excuse the indiscretion. a friend of mine is going there to−night. let us go to the library. that demands my immediate presence in Paris." asked he. unable to hide her emotion at this unexpected announcement. then. and they left the salon. as soon as they were by themselves." returned Villefort. "You wish to speak to me alone?" said the marquis. have you not?" "Yes. are you going?" asked the marquise. "tell me what it is?" "An affair of the greatest importance. marquis." The guests looked at each other. or you will lose it all. and tell him to sell out without an instant's delay. Now.

"I must have another!" "To whom?" "To the king." "Doubtless. he has the right of entry at the Tuileries. placing the letter in his pocketbook. ordering him to sell out at the market price. I must be on the road in a quarter of an hour." "Be as quick as possible. marquis. The keeper would leave me in the background. but there is no occasion to divide the honors of my discovery with him. I tell you. then. that would occasion a loss of precious time.Chapter 9 106 And. sitting down." said Villefort. but ask M." "I do not ask you to write to his majesty." "I dare not write to his majesty." "Tell your coachman to stop at the door. I want a letter that will enable me to reach the king's presence without all the formalities of demanding an audience. "Now." "In that case go and get ready. my fortune is made if I only reach the Tuileries the first. I will call Salvieux and make him write the letter. and take all the glory to himself. he wrote a letter to his broker." "To the king?" "Yes." "But address yourself to the keeper of the seals." . and can procure you audience at any hour of the day or night. for the king will not forget the service I do him. de Salvieux to do so.

" "A thousand thanks −− and now for the letter." said she. and. who." said Villefort abruptly. but reflecting that the sight of the deputy procureur running through the streets would be enough to throw the whole city into confusion. a servant entered. she advanced and stood before him. and can make your farewells in person. "The young man you speak of. that I may know whether he is alive or dead. mademoiselle. . Dantes had spoken of Mercedes. he is no longer in my hands. then. It was Mercedes.Chapter 9 107 "You will present my excuses to the marquise and Mademoiselle Renee. At his door he perceived a figure in the shadow that seemed to wait for him. "is a great criminal." replied Villefort. tell me where he is." "Now. and I can do nothing for him. as Villefort strove to pass her. hearing no news of her lover. and Villefort instantly recognized her. "I shall be gone only a few moments." Villefort hastily quitted the apartment. at least. he resumed his ordinary pace. whom I leave on such a day with great regret. "But. and he the accused. it seemed to him that she was the judge. "Say to the Comte de Salvieux that I would like to see him. "I do not know. and when she inquired what had become of her lover." The marquis rang. had come unobserved to inquire after him. again addressed him. As Villefort drew near." said the marquis." Mercedes burst into tears." "You will find them both here. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him. go.

But remorse is not thus banished. from his chair. but here was an innocent man whose happiness he had destroyed: in this case he was not the judge. muttered a few inarticulate sounds. If at this moment the sweet voice of Renee had sounded in his ears pleading for mercy. Then the first pangs of an unending torture seized upon his heart. furious and terrible. stood motionless an instant. Villefort rose. but the executioner. and. arrived at the salon. because they were guilty. he believed so. hastily opened one of the drawers of his desk. and sank into a chair. and owing to his irresistible eloquence they had been condemned. only close to reopen more agonizing than ever. who came to tell him that the travelling carriage was in readiness. appeared to him pale and threatening. perceiving that his servant had placed his . but no voice broke the stillness of the chamber. He had frequently called for capital punishment on criminals. he pushed by her. It is thus that a wounded man trembles instinctively at the approach of the finger to his wound until it be healed. but Villefort's was one of those that never close. "In the name of God. Villefort uttered a sigh that was almost a sob. he carried the arrow in his wound. As he thus reflected. or if they do. emptied all the gold it contained into his pocket. or rather sprang. and which had hitherto been unknown to him. and bringing with him remorse. arise in his bosom. I conjure you to restore me my affianced husband.Chapter 9 108 And desirous of putting an end to the interview. and fill him with vague apprehensions. and the door was opened only by Villefort's valet." his cold and trembling hands would have signed his release. leading his affianced bride by the hand. The man he sacrificed to his ambition. at least. and closed the door. that innocent victim immolated on the altar of his father's faults. his hand pressed to his head. not such as the ancients figured. as if to exclude the pain he felt. and then. he felt the sensation we have described. and yet the slightest shadow of remorse had never clouded Villefort's brow. or the fair Mercedes had entered and said. like Virgil's wounded hero. Then he had a moment's hesitation. but that slow and consuming agony whose pangs are intensified from hour to hour up to the very moment of death.

The lamp went out for want of oil. and Renee. far from pleading for Dantes. declaring that the matter was serious and that nothing more could be done. he had shut himself up with two bottles of black currant brandy. and dawn came. He had learned that Dantes had been taken to prison. Caderousse was equally restless and uneasy. her emotions were wholly personal: she was thinking only of Villefort's departure. Fernand.Chapter 9 109 cloak on his shoulders. and had despairingly cast herself on her couch. and covered it with kisses that Mercedes did not even feel. Grief had made her blind to all but one object −− that was Edmond. like M. kneeling by her side. but the report was already in circulation that Dantes was arrested as a Bonapartist agent. but she paid no heed to the darkness. Meanwhile what of Mercedes? She had met Fernand at the corner of the Rue de la Loge. Morrel. "I have not quitted you since yesterday. and he left her at the moment he was about to become her husband. but instead of seeking. Villefort found the marquise and Renee in waiting. but she knew not that it was day. She loved Villefort. She passed the night thus. The hapless Dantes was doomed. and had returned home in despair. to aid Dantes. in the hope of drowning reflection. Morrel had not readily given up the fight. and the influential persons of the city. turning towards Fernand. he met with nothing but refusal. he sprang into the carriage. As the marquis had promised. "Ah. de Saint−Meran's." returned Fernand sorrowfully. she had returned to the Catalans. M. and he had gone to all his friends." said she. and as the most sanguine looked upon any attempt of Napoleon to remount the throne as impossible. for he fancied she was again about to plead for Dantes. you are there. Villefort knew not when he should return. ordering the postilions to drive to M. hated the man whose crime separated her from her lover. at length. But he did not succeed. . Alas. took her hand. He started when he saw Renee.

But we know very well what had become of Edmond. enter at the Tuileries the little room with the arched window. embraced Renee. de Salvieux' letter. He went to bed at his usual hour. was carelessly listening . while spectres danced in the light of the unsnuffed candle −− spectres such as Hoffmann strews over his punch−drenched pages. started for Paris along the Aix road. With his elbows on the table he sat between the two empty bottles. and an inkstand in place of a heart. and yet not so intoxicated as to forget what had happened. and to which. Everything with him was multiplication or subtraction. and slept in peace. so well known as having been the favorite closet of Napoleon and Louis XVIII. like black. he could increase the sum total of his own desires. There. fantastic dust. The life of a man was to him of far less value than a numeral. Louis XVIII. and now of Louis Philippe. and passing through two or three apartments. he was particularly attached. travelling −− thanks to trebled fees −− with all speed. Danglars alone was content and joyous −− he had got rid of an enemy and made his own situation on the Pharaon secure. kissed the marquise's hand. and shaken that of the marquis. Villefort. seated before a walnut table he had brought with him from Hartwell. Danglars was one of those men born with a pen behind the ear.. after having received M. from one of those fancies not uncommon to great people. We will leave Villefort on the road to Paris..Chapter 10 110 and became too intoxicated to fetch any more drink. the king. especially when. Old Dantes was dying with anxiety to know what had become of Edmond. Chapter 10 The King's Closet at the Tuileries. by taking it away.

" replied the courtier.." "Really. will your majesty send into Languedoc." replied Louis XVIII." "Well. and Dauphine.Chapter 10 111 to a man of fifty or fifty−two years of age. sir" −− said the king." continued M. for that would only betoken for us seven years of plenty and seven years of scarcity. but much sought−after. edition of Horace −− a work which was much indebted to the sagacious observations of the philosophical monarch. continuing the annotations in his Horace. my dear Blacas?" "Sire. and meanwhile making a marginal note in a volume of Gryphius's rather inaccurate. and exceedingly gentlemanly attire. "You say. have you had a vision of the seven fat kine and the seven lean kine?" "No. in order that he might seem to comprehend the quotation. "That I am exceedingly disquieted. Provence. it is very fine weather in that direction. de Blacas." Man of ability as he was. sire. "I think you are wrongly informed. "if it only be to reassure a faithful servant. "your majesty may be perfectly right in relying . sire. trusty men. laughing. liked a pleasant jest. and know positively that." "Then of what other scourge are you afraid. my dear duke. scarcity is not a thing to be feared. on the contrary. aristocratic bearing. and with a king as full of foresight as your majesty. Louis XVIII." replied the king. "Sire. with gray hair. who will bring you back a faithful report as to the feeling in these three provinces?" "Caninus surdis. I have every reason to believe that a storm is brewing in the south. "Sire.

another note on the margin of his Horace. "has arrived by post to tell me that a great peril threatens the king. my dear duke. and then looking at the duke with the air of a man who thinks he has an idea of his own." "My dear Blacas. "Does your majesty wish me to drop the subject?" "By no means. in a hand as small as possible." said the king. −− "Go on." said Blacas." . and charged by me to watch over the south" (the duke hesitated as he pronounced these words). by his adherents." continued Louis XVIII." "Mala ducis avi domum. my dear sir. during which Louis XVIII." "By whom?" "By Bonaparte. and so I hastened to you. while he is only commenting upon the idea of another. but a serious−minded man. sire. said. for I have such a delightful note on the Pastor quum traheret −− wait. prevent me from sleeping with your security. but just stretch out your hand.Chapter 10 112 on the good feeling of France. go on −− I listen." "And you. who had for a moment the hope of sacrificing Villefort to his own profit. my dear duke. deserving all my confidence. still annotating." "Sire. "you with your alarms prevent me from working.. wrote. "I am compelled to tell you that these are not mere rumors destitute of foundation which thus disquiet me." There was a brief pause." "Wait. and I will listen to you afterwards. wait a moment. at least. but I fear I am not altogether wrong in dreading some desperate attempt. or. sire.

−− "Has your majesty perused yesterday's report?" "Yes. "Come in. and you are looking to the right. did not even raise his head. "come in. But here is M. and we may expect to have issuing thence flaming and bristling war −− bella. "Scratches himself?" inquired the duke. who." continued the baron. entered. and said. and passes whole days in watching his miners at work at Porto−Longone. and tell the duke all you know −− the latest news of M.. Bonaparte" −− M. Baron." "And scratches himself for amusement. however serious. Dandre looked at Louis XVIII. "what does your majesty mean?" . what the report contains −− give him the particulars of what the usurper is doing in his islet. but tell the duke himself. sire?" "I tell you to the left." "Here." "Monsieur. "Bonaparte. yes. horrida bella. Dandre." M. You will find yesterday's report of the minister of police. announced by the chamberlain−in−waiting." and M." added the king. "all the servants of his majesty must approve of the latest intelligence which we have from the Island of Elba. "is mortally wearied. employed in writing a note.Chapter 10 113 "Which?" "Whichever you please −− there to the left. Dandre himself. Dandre leaned very respectfully on the back of a chair with his two hands. there." said Louis XVIII. with repressed smile. the Island of Elba is a volcano. −− let us see. who cannot find anything." said the baron to the duke. do not conceal anything. I mean on my left −− yes.. de Bonaparte.

my dear duke.Chapter 10 114 "Yes. lest another should reap all the benefit of the disclosure. Did you forget that this great man. to the usurper's conversion. therefore. flinging stones in the water and when the flint makes `duck−and−drake' five or six times. who spoke alternately. my dear baron −− or of wisdom. at other time he passes hours on the seashore. "we are almost assured that. "Blacas is not yet convinced. this hero. let us proceed." continued the minister of police. Now. "The usurper converted!" "Decidedly. my dear duke. Sometimes he weeps bitterly. you must agree that these are indubitable symptoms of insanity. indeed. well. moreover. "The usurper's conversion!" murmured the duke. looking at the king and Dandre. Villefort. sometimes laughs boisterously." said Louis XVIII. "the greatest captains of antiquity amused themselves by casting pebbles into the ocean −− see Plutarch's life of Scipio Africanus. my dear duke. is attacked with a malady of the skin which worries him to death. had yet communicated enough to cause him the greatest uneasiness. the usurper will be insane." The minister of police bowed. in a very short time. he appears as delighted as if he had gained another Marengo or Austerlitz. this demigod." "Insane?" "Raving mad. Dandre.. de Blacas pondered deeply between the confident monarch and the truthful minister. who did not choose to reveal the whole secret. prurigo?" "And. his head becomes weaker." "In what way converted?" ." "Or of wisdom." M. like Virgil's shepherds.. "Well." said Louis XVIII. laughing.

well. this is the way of it. sire. Baron. is it not?" and the king laughed facetiously. sire. what think you of this?" inquired the king triumphantly.. and I will urge your majesty to do him this honor. and rely upon some unexpected event in some way to justify their predictions. and exhorted them to `serve the good king." "Most willingly. he gave them their dismissal. and as two or three of his old veterans expressed a desire to return to France. they trust to fortune. and pausing for a moment from the voluminous scholiast before him. and if there be none −− well. if I might advise. every day our desks are loaded with most circumstantial denunciations. Tell him all about it." "Go thither." "Why. that is the usual way.' These were his own words. your majesty will interrogate the person of whom I spoke to you. sire. baron." replied the minister. "make one." "Well. but cannot. However. have you any report more recent than this dated the 20th February. under your auspices I will receive any person you please. "Oh." continued Louis XVIII. of that I am certain. duke. but you must not expect me to be too confiding. "I say. "we have no occasion to invent any." said the minister. −− this is the 4th of March?" "No. sire. Blacas. coming from hosts of people who hope for some return for services which they seek to render. it is probable that I am in error. it may have arrived since I left my office.Chapter 10 115 "To good principles. that the minister of police is greatly deceived or I am. and as it is impossible it can be the minister of police as he has the guardianship of the safety and honor of your majesty. with the gravest air in the world: "Napoleon lately had a review. but I am hourly expecting one." .

" "Which is undergoing great fatigue and anxiety." said M." "I will but go and return. I entreat your majesty to receive him graciously. to give your majesty useful information." said De Blacas. M. "Really. `Molli fugiens anhelitu. my brother's chamberlain?" "Yes. I must change your armorial bearings." "He is at Marseilles. sir.' you know it refers to a stag flying from a wolf. my dear duke. for he has posted two hundred and twenty leagues in scarcely three days. "I wish to consult you on this passage. biting his nails with impatience." "Sire. If only for the sake of M. sire. said Louis XVIII." "M." "Wait." said Louis XVIII." "Ah. de Blacas. de Salvieux. but my messenger is like the stag you refer to. I will give you an eagle with outstretched wings. wait. who has come so far. I shall be back in ten minutes. what do you think of the molli anhelitu?" "Admirable. Are you not a sportsman and a great wolf−hunter? Well. sir." . and that without getting in the least out of breath. holding in its claws a prey which tries in vain to escape. de Salvieux. sire. I listen. and bearing this device −− Tenax. who recommends him to me. "will go and find my messenger. when we have a telegraph which transmits messages in three or four hours.Chapter 10 116 "Well. and with so much ardor. you recompense but badly this poor young man. sire. then." "And I. sire.. de Blacas. sire. go". "and remember that I am waiting for you.

and begs me to present him to your majesty. too. I thought his name was unknown to your majesty. de Villefort!" cried the king. and. Blacas. de Villefort. betraying some uneasiness. sire." "And he comes from Marseilles?" "In person. pardieu." "And your majesty has employed the son of such a man?" "Blacas. Noirtier. but strongly recommends M. "Sire. I told you Villefort was ambitious." "No. and to attain this ambition Villefort would . ambitious." "M. my friend." "Does he speak to you of this conspiracy?" "No. you have but limited comprehension. "is the messenger's name M. he is a man of strong and elevated understanding." "Noirtier the Girondin? −− Noirtier the senator?" "He himself.Chapter 10 117 "And writes me thence. de Villefort?" "Yes." "Why did you not mention his name at once?" replied the king. you know his father's name!" "His father?" "Yes. no.

may I present him?" "This instant. "Come in. sire.Chapter 10 118 sacrifice everything. even his father. Louis XVIII. his really sincere royalism made him youthful again. and turning his eyes on his half−opened Horace. "the Duc de Blacas assures me you have some interesting information to communicate. and." The duke left the royal presence with the speed of a young man. The duke." said the king." M." Villefort bowed. remained alone. who was all astonishment at finding that this young man had the audacity to enter before the king in such attire. however. duke! Where is he?" "Waiting below. The king was seated in the same place where the duke had left him. "come in. waited until the king should interrogate him. in my carriage. −− "Justum et tenacem propositi virum. muttered. in spite of the protestations which the master of ceremonies made for the honor of his office and principles." . de Villefort. and the young magistrate's first impulse was to pause. excited the susceptibility of M. de Blacas returned as speedily as he had departed. overcame all difficulties with a word −− his majesty's order. his costume." said Louis XVIII. and advancing a few steps. but in the ante−chamber he was forced to appeal to the king's authority." "Then. Villefort found himself facing him." "Seek him at once. which was not of courtly cut.. Villefort was introduced. Villefort's dusty garb. "M. On opening the door. M. de Villefort." "I hasten to do so. de Breze.

but I hope. Sire. and pray begin at the beginning. however mad. but an actual conspiracy −− a storm which menaces no less than your majesty's throne. but I must entreat your forgiveness if my anxiety leads to some obscurity in my language. sir. the usurper is arming three ships. is yet. sir. I like order in everything. "Speak. the duke is right. in the exercise of my duties. or on the coast of Tuscany. such as is every day got up in the lower ranks of the people and in the army." said Villefort." "Speak as fully as you please." "In the first place. that it is not irreparable. by the speed I have used. "I will render a faithful report to your majesty. sir. to inform your majesty that I have discovered. I have come as rapidly to Paris as possible. sir." A glance at the king after this discreet and subtle exordium. or perhaps on the shores of France. to go whither I know not. I believe it to be most urgent. I beg of you.Chapter 10 119 "Sire. and he went on: −− "Sire. terrible. who began to give way to the emotion which had showed itself in Blacas's face and affected Villefort's voice. Your majesty is well aware that the sovereign of the Island of Elba has maintained his relations with Italy and France?" "I am. "and recently we have had information that the Bonapartist clubs have had meetings in the Rue Saint−Jacques. much agitated. and I believe your majesty will think it equally important. perhaps. At this moment he will have left Elba. But proceed. but assuredly to attempt a landing either at Naples." "Sire." said the king. which. How did you obtain these details?" . assured Villefort of the benignity of his august auditor." said the king. he meditates some project. and before everything else. is the news as bad in your opinion as I am asked to believe?" "Sire. not a commonplace and insignificant plot.

" "A conspiracy in these times." "Sire. inasmuch as.. I left my bride and friends. the present. in order to watch the shore of the Mediterranean. but let us talk of this plot. smiling. and arrested on the day of my departure. I fear it is more than a plot." "True. but this mission was to prepare men's minds for a return (it is the man who says this." "Yes. on the very day of my betrothal." "And the matter seems serious to you?" "So serious. whom I have watched for some time. There he saw the grand−marshal.. and the assurance of my devotion. if he land . de Villefort. who charged him with an oral message to a Bonapartist in Paris. but more difficult to conduct to an end. the whole coalition would be on foot before he could even reach Piomoino. "was there not a marriage engagement between you and Mademoiselle de Saint−Meran?" "Daughter of one of your majesty's most faithful servants. sire) −− a return which will soon occur. and whom I suspected of Bonapartism. re−established so recently on the throne of our ancestors. postponing everything. of turbulent character. that I might hasten to lay at your majesty's feet the fears which impressed me. M. sire. has been secretly to the Island of Elba. I fear it is a conspiracy. "is a thing very easy to meditate." "And where is this man?" "In prison. For the last ten months my ministers have redoubled their vigilance." said Louis XVIII. and the future. sire. This person. yes. If Bonaparte landed at Naples.Chapter 10 120 "Sire. that when the circumstance surprised me in the midst of a family festival. they are the results of an examination which I have made of a man of Marseilles. a sailor." said Louis XVIII. we have our eyes open at once upon the past. whose name I could not extract from him.

At this instant the minister of police appeared at the door. de Blacas. pushed from him violently the table at which he was sitting.Chapter 11 121 in Tuscany." "Ah. but at the same time rely on our royal gratitude. "Will you speak?" he said. At the sight of this agitation Louis XVIII. and as if ready to faint. de Blacas has told me. here is M. Dandre!" cried de Blacas. 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. and M. giving way to an impulse of despair. what is it?" asked Louis XVIII. "Well. "What ails you. was about to throw himself at the feet of Louis XVIII. trembling. who retreated a step and frowned. as matters were. restrained him. it must be with a handful of men. de Villefort has just confirmed?" M. he will be in an unfriendly territory. and besides. The minister of police. baron?" he exclaimed. taking his hand. "Sire" −− stammered the baron. execrated as he is by the population. Has your uneasiness anything to do with what M. pale. Villefort was about to retire. de Blacas moved suddenly towards the baron. sir. if he land in France. but M. Take courage. "You appear quite aghast. and the result of that is easily foretold.. Chapter 11 The Corsican Ogre. .

it is but too true!" Louis made a gesture of indescribable anger and alarm. sire. what you tell me is impossible. "You alone forewarned us of the evil. sire." exclaimed the Duc de Blacas. Who knows? they were. indeed." "And where? In Italy?" asked the king eagerly. −− at a small port. sir. "In France!" he cried. on the 1st of March. in the Gulf of Juan." "Alas." . the usurper left Elba on the 26th February. near Antibes.. sire. and then drew himself up as if this sudden blow had struck him at the same moment in heart and countenance." he said. near Antibes. Will your majesty deign to excuse me?" "Speak. that is all. and you only acquired this information to−day." "The usurper landed in France. he was silent. bowing. two hundred and fifty leagues from Paris. "the usurper in France! Then they did not watch over this man. sire. or you have gone mad." "Well." "Oh. and then suddenly checking himself. and the minister of police has shared the general blindness. You must have received a false report. in league with him. "Your pardon." replied Louis." "But" −− said Villefort. what a dreadful misfortune! I am. sire. to be pitied." said Louis XVIII. sir. the 4th of March! Well. "I command you to speak. speak boldly. "M. "In France. then he continued. sire. I can never forgive myself!" "Monsieur. now try and aid us with the remedy. in the Gulf of Juan.Chapter 11 122 "Oh. Dandre is not a man to be accused of treason! Sire. perhaps. "my zeal carried me away. and landed on the 1st of March. we have all been blind.

but the feeling in Dauphine is quite the reverse of that in Provence or Languedoc." he added. sire. "the usurper is detested in the south. assuredly. "Do you think it possible to rouse that as well as Provence?" "Sire. −− "By the telegraph. and while a deep color overspread his cheeks. "What. And how many men had he with him?" "I do not know." replied the minister. advanced a step. and it seems to me that if he ventured into the south. "Is he then advancing on Paris?" The minister of police maintained a silence which was equivalent to a complete avowal. "he was well informed. I am sorry to tell your majesty a cruel fact. "And Dauphine." said Villefort." "Then." −− Louis XVIII. you do not know! Have you neglected to obtain information on that point? Of course it is of no consequence.Chapter 11 123 "Sire. he stammered out." "Yes. and folded his arms over his chest as Napoleon would have done. The mountaineers are Bonapartists. of Villefort. it would be easy to raise Languedoc and Provence against him." "Advancing −− he is advancing!" said Louis XVIII. "but he is advancing by Gap and Sisteron." answered the minister of police. sir?" inquired the king. "Sire. with a withering smile. The minister bowed his head. sire. it was impossible to learn. ." murmured Louis. sire. the despatch simply stated the fact of the landing and the route taken by the usurper." "And how did this despatch reach you?" inquired the king.

I would rather mount the scaffold of my brother. A miracle of heaven replaced me on the throne of my fathers after five−and−twenty years of exile. was too much for any human strength to endure." resumed the king. and learn of that fall by telegraph! Oh. you are right −− it is fatality!" The minister quailed before this outburst of sarcasm. who at the first glance had sounded the abyss on which the monarchy hung suspended. yes. feeling that the pressure of circumstances. and now. it is fatality!" murmured the minister. "To fall. Ridicule. motionless and breathless." he exclaimed. M. but to be in the midst of persons elevated by myself to places of honor. Louis XVI. "for pity's" −− "Approach. sir. turning pale with anger. spared no pains to understand the people of France and the interests which were confided to me. than thus descend the staircase at the Tuileries driven away by ridicule. for he felt his increased importance. during those five−and−twenty years. I would console myself." continued King Louis. "Approach. sire." murmured the minister. addressing the young man.. who. de Villefort.Chapter 11 124 "So then. de Blacas wiped the moisture from his brow. when I see the fruition of my wishes almost within reach. "seven conjoined and allied armies overthrew that man. −− for my fortune is theirs −− before me they were nothing −− after me they will be nothing. sir −− why. and perish miserably from incapacity −− ineptitude! Oh. was listening to a conversation on which depended the destiny of a kingdom. however light a thing to destiny. who ought to watch over me more carefully than over themselves. We have learnt nothing. and tell monsieur that it is . "What our enemies say of us is then true. and shatters me to atoms!" "Sire. you know not its power in France. I have. and yet you ought to know it!" "Sire. −− "to fall. forgotten nothing! If I were betrayed as he was. M. the power I hold in my hands bursts. Villefort smiled within himself.

"for if you have discovered nothing. instead of aiding to crush him. if." These words were an allusion to the sentiments which the minister of police had uttered with so much confidence an hour before. or else dictated by venal ambition. and fifteen hundred thousand francs for secret service money." "Really impossible! Yes −− that is a great word. in the plenitude of his power.. to know what is going on at sixty leagues from the coast of France! Well. at least you have had the good sense to persevere in your suspicions. had been unable to unearth Napoleon's secret. Blacas." continued Louis XVIII. Really impossible for a minister who has an office. who learned more than you with all your police. Unfortunately. perhaps. de Villefort insignificant. and who would have saved my crown. see. although he saw that Dandre was irrevocably lost. what your majesty is pleased to attribute to me as profound perspicacity is simply owing to chance. "Sire. like you. there are great words. and I have profited by that chance. "the suddenness of this event must prove to your majesty that the issue is in the hands of Providence. "I do not mean that for you. but he feared to make for himself a mortal enemy of the police minister. agents. I have measured them." said Villefort.Chapter 11 125 possible to know beforehand all that he has not known. sir. Any other person would. Any other than yourself would have considered the disclosure of M. Villefort came to the rescue of the crest−fallen minister. as there are great men." "Sire. the minister. who bent his head in modest triumph. Villefort understood the king's intent. like a good and devoted servant . In fact. it was really impossible to learn secrets which that man concealed from all the world. who. he had the power of directing a telegraph. only a simple magistrate. then. might in despair at his own downfall interrogate Dantes and so lay bare the motives of Villefort's plot. spies. here is a gentleman who had none of these resources at his disposal −− a gentleman. Realizing this. have been overcome by such an intoxicating draught of praise." The look of the minister of police was turned with concentrated spite on Villefort.

de Blacas and the minister of police. what now remains to do is in the department of the minister of war. −− on the contrary. that your majesty may never have occasion to recall the first opinion you have been pleased to form of me. turning towards M. "I came a moment ago to give your majesty fresh information which I had obtained on this head.Chapter 11 126 −− that's all." "Do not mention reports." resumed the king." said M." "Fortunately. speaking of reports. Then. gentlemen. for I know now what confidence to place in them. sire. "'Tis well. sire. to me. sire. and now these facts will cease to interest your majesty.. Yet. that is to say. "I have no further occasion for you." At the name of General ." replied the king. "this affair seems to me to have a decided connection with that which occupies our attention. not the respect I have. he might rely. perhaps." interposed the minister of police. put us on the direct track of a great internal conspiracy. for that is too deeply engraved in my heart. sir. what have you learned with regard to the affair in the Rue Saint−Jacques?" "The affair in the Rue Saint−Jacques!" exclaimed Villefort. and you may retire. and the death of General Quesnel will." said Louis XVIII. but my devotion to your majesty has made me forget. duke. "Your pardon." The minister of police thanked the young man by an eloquent look. he added. "And now. Do not attribute to me more than I deserve. your majesty knows how every report confirms their loyalty and attachment. but the rules of etiquette. suddenly pausing. sir. unable to repress an exclamation. in case of necessity." "Sire. de Blacas. go on. "we can rely on the army." "On the contrary. he had made a friend of one on whom. that without forfeiting the gratitude of the king. when your majesty's attention was attracted by the terrible event that has occurred in the gulf." he continued. "you have to−day earned the right to make inquiries here. and Villefort understood that he had succeeded in his design. baron." "Go on.

sire. whom they believed attached to the usurper. Yesterday a person exactly corresponding with this description was followed. "Everything points to the conclusion. General Quesnel. "for if.Chapter 11 127 Quesnel." replied Villefort. for as the minister of police went on speaking he felt his legs bend under him. de Villefort. General Quesnel. "that death was not the result of suicide. unfortunately." As the police minister related this to the king. "Yes. Villefort trembled. sire. sir. that General Quesnel. "But is this all that is known?" "They are on the track of the man who appointed the meeting with him. he breathed again. He is a man of from fifty to fifty−two years of age. but when he learned that the unknown had escaped the vigilance of the agent who followed him. but he was lost sight of at the corner of the Rue de la Jussienne and the Rue Coq−Heron." said the minister of police. it appears. who looked as if his very life hung on the speaker's lips. who was dressing his hair at the moment when the stranger entered. heard the street mentioned. and wore at his button−hole the rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor. "Do you not think with me. the general's valet. buttoned up to the chin. An unknown person had been with him that morning. as I am all but convinced." said the king to the minister of police. but who was really entirely devoted to me. had just left a Bonapartist club when he disappeared. and made an appointment with him in the Rue Saint−Jacques. Villefort." "On his track?" said Villefort. with black eyes covered with shaggy eyebrows. The king looked towards him. but did not catch the number. turned alternately red and pale. has perished the victim of a Bonapartist ambush?" "It is probable. He was dressed in a blue frock−coat. as we first believed. "Continue to seek for this man." Villefort leaned on the back of an arm−chair. the servant has given his description. who would have been . but of assassination. dark. and a thick mustache. M.

'" "Sire." said Louis. for you must be fatigued after so long a journey.' and especially so when they can add. and for which you should be recompensed. Of course you stopped at your father's?" A feeling of faintness came over Villefort. I went straight to the Duc de Blacas. sire. "No. `And we are on the track of the guilty persons. your majesty will. M." ." he replied. I forgot. "I alighted at the Hotel de Madrid." "But you will see him. sire. Bonapartists or not. his assassins." "But you have seen him?" "Sire. Noirtier are not on the best terms possible. be amply satisfied on this point at least. shall be cruelly punished." "Sire. "the police think that they have disposed of the whole matter when they say. smiling in a manner which proved that all these questions were not made without a motive." It required all Villefort's coolness not to betray the terror with which this declaration of the king inspired him. de Villefort. has been murdered." continued the king. "I forgot you and M. and that is another sacrifice made to the royal cause." "Ah. in the Rue de Tournon. with some asperity. 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. "How strange. then?" "I think not. I will no longer detain you." "We shall see.Chapter 11 128 so useful to us at this moment. `A murder has been committed. I trust. go and rest.

" he said. Blacas." "Sire. "take it. In the meanwhile" (the king here detached the cross of the Legion of Honor which he usually wore over his blue coat. do not be afraid to bring yourself to my recollection." Villefort's eyes were filled with tears of joy and pride. you may be of the greatest service to me at Marseilles.." "Go. "your majesty mistakes. and gave it to Villefort) −− "in the meanwhile take this cross. make your mind easy." "Sire." said Villefort. and looking about him for a hackney−coach. such as it is. we will not forget you. send for the minister of war. "may I inquire what are the orders with which your majesty deigns to honor me?" "Take what rest you require. whose career was ended. let it be your care to see that the brevet is made out and sent to M. "And now. as they left the Tuileries. he gave his address to the driver. which he hailed. this is an officer's cross. near the cross of St. sir. sir." "Ah. and gave loose to dreams of ambition. saluting the minister." "Ma foi." replied Villefort. ordered horses to be ready in two hours. "you entered by luck's door −− your fortune is made. threw himself on the seat." "Will it be long first?" muttered Villefort. bowing. Ten minutes afterwards Villefort reached his hotel. He was . above the order of Notre−Dame−du−Mont−Carmel and St. and springing in. he took the cross and kissed it. Baron. Blacas." said the king. Lazare.Chapter 11 129 "Never mind. de Villefort. sir. for I have not the time to procure you another. "in an hour I shall have quitted Paris." said the minister of police to Villefort. remain. One passed at the moment. Louis. and remember that if you are not able to serve me here in Paris." said Louis XVIII. "and should I forget you (kings' memories are short). and asked to have his breakfast brought to him.

"Who could know that I was here already?" said the young man." said Villefort." "What sort of person is he?" "Why." "A stranger who will not send in his name! What can he want with me?" "He wishes to speak to you. −− very dark. "what is it? −− Who rang? −− Who asked for me?" "A stranger who will not send in his name. sir. sir. black eyebrows. black hair." "To me?" "Yes." "And how dressed?" asked Villefort quickly." "Short or tall?" "About your own height. The valet entered. ." "Did he mention my name?" "Yes." "Dark or fair?" "Dark.Chapter 11 130 about to begin his repast when the sound of the bell rang sharp and loud. and Villefort heard some one speak his name. with black eyes. The valet opened the door. "Well. a man of about fifty.

" said the individual whose description we have twice given. no doubt. pardieu. now.Chapter 12 131 "In a blue frock−coat. he opened the door again. indeed. with a very significant look. and then. turning pale." "It is he!" said Villefort. Noirtier then took the trouble to close and bolt the ante−chamber door. my dear Gerard. he who entered −− looked after the servant until the door was closed. Noirtier −− for it was. you seem as if you were not very glad to ." "Leave us. buttoned up close. that it was not very filial of you to keep me waiting at the door. M. Germain. "then I was not deceived. entering the door. putting his cane in a corner and his hat on a chair. "allow me to say. then that of the bed−chamber. my dear Gerard. if you felt so sure. Chapter 12 Father and Son. who proved that he was not exempt from the sin which ruined our first parents. "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." replied the new−comer." "Well. then. "Well. I felt sure it must be you. nor was the precaution useless." said Villefort. decorated with the Legion of Honor. and then extended his hand to Villefort. M. who had followed all his motions with surprise which he could not conceal. "do you know. that he might be overheard in the ante−chamber. "Eh. as appeared from the rapid retreat of Germain. fearing. The servant quitted the apartment with evident signs of astonishment." said he to the young man.

"Really. 53. and my journey will be your salvation. who quitted his own house at nine o'clock in the evening. but I so little expected your visit. drawing closer to M. and on the 3rd of March you turn up here in Paris. he becomes accustomed to most things. my dear father. when you announce to me your wedding for the 28th of February." ." said Gerard. I am vice−president." "Father. "I am." said Villefort. for it must be interesting. indeed!" said M." "And if I have come. But go on. "I might say the same thing to you. Noirtier." "And who told you this fine story?" "The king himself. delighted. they induced General Quesnel to go there. stretching himself out at his ease in the chair. been hunted over the plains of Bordeaux by Robespierre's bloodhounds." replied M. was found the next day in the Seine. Noirtier. your coolness makes me shudder. pray tell me all about it." "Ah.Chapter 12 132 see me?" "My dear father. Noirtier. and General Quesnel. for it is for you that I came." "Why. seating himself. has escaped from Paris in a hay−cart." "But. that it has somewhat overcome me. what about the club in the Rue Saint−Jacques?" "Why. my dear fellow." "Father. on the contrary. yes. my dear boy. when a man has been proscribed by the mountaineers. "do not complain. you have heard speak of a certain Bonapartist club in the Rue Saint−Jacques?" "No.

"will the Restoration adopt imperial methods so promptly? Shot. and which I discovered in the pocket−book of the messenger." ." "To me?" "To you. "Come. I heard this news. you have heard of the landing of the emperor?" "Not so loud. I think I already know what you are about to tell me." "How did you know about it?" "By a letter addressed to you from the Island of Elba. father." "I burnt it. you." said he. Why. would probably ere this have been shot." continued Noirtier. come. "I will tell you another. my dear father. three days ago the emperor had not landed. for fear that even a fragment should remain. for that letter must have led to your condemnation." Villefort's father laughed. Yes. my dear boy? What an idea! Where is the letter you speak of? I know you too well to suppose you would allow such a thing to pass you. I entreat of you −− for your own sake as well as mine.Chapter 12 133 "Well. and knew it even before you could. half−desperate at the enforced delay. Had that letter fallen into the hands of another." "My dear father. in return for your story. for three days ago I posted from Marseilles to Paris with all possible speed." "Three days ago? You are crazy. then. I was aware of his intention." "Ah." "No matter.

I am quite familiar with it. "yes. But I have nothing to fear while I have you to protect me. No. When the police is at fault." "A murder do you call it? why." "And who thus designated it?" "The king himself." "I must refer again to the club in the Rue Saint−Jacques. it declares that it is on the track. I can easily comprehend that.Chapter 12 134 "And the destruction of your future prospects. with a sneaking air. no." "I do better than that. this was murder in every sense of the word. People are found every day in the Seine. and the government patiently awaits the day when it comes to say. really. that the track is lost. but they have found a corpse. the general has been killed. sir −− I save you." "Yes. but they are on the track." replied Noirtier." "You do? Why. and in all countries they call that a murder. there is nothing to prove that the general was murdered. and people do not bathe in the Seine in the month of January. you know very well that the general was not a man to drown himself in despair. having thrown themselves in." "Father. do not be deceived." ." "It appears that this club is rather a bore to the police." "Yes. Why didn't they search more vigilantly? they would have found" −− "They have not found. or having been drowned from not knowing how to swim. the thing becomes more and more dramatic −− explain yourself. that the usual phrase.

and cut off the head of one of my party. −− he was made to take an oath. and yet. to found an accusation on such bad premises! Did I ever say to you. and invited him to the Rue Saint−Jacques. In politics.'" "But. sir. you know. when our turn comes." . Yet he did not return home. that on leaving us he lost his way. and did so. Villefort. Then all looked at each other. You. he replied that he was a royalist. on the 10th or 12th he will be at Lyons. take care. where he would find some friends. Would you like to know how matters have progressed? Well. and the plan was unfolded to him for leaving Elba. I will tell you." "I do not understand you. but interests. A murder? really. he will not advance two leagues into the interior of France without being followed. a deputy procureur. the general was allowed to depart free −− perfectly free. we only remove an obstacle. our revenge will be sweeping. my dear fellow. `My son. perchance. but ideas −− no feelings. that is all. in politics we do not kill a man. you have gained the victory. I said. and caught like a wild beast. He came there. `Very well. as well as I do. to−morrow. tracked. but with such an ill grace that it was really tempting Providence to swear him. one of us went to him. What could that mean? why. When he had heard and comprehended all to the fullest extent. the emperor is at this moment on the way to Grenoble. my dear fellow. there are no men. the projected landing. you surprise me. in spite of that. It was thought reliance might be placed in General Quesnel.Chapter 12 135 "The king! I thought he was philosopher enough to allow that there was no murder in politics. it will be our turn. that's all. etc. and on the 20th or 25th at Paris." "You rely on the usurper's return?" "We do." "You are mistaken. father." "My dear fellow. he was recommended to us from the Island of Elba. you have committed a murder?' No. when you were fulfilling your character as a royalist.

" "Yes. if you please. you think yourself well informed because the telegraph has told you. and armies will be despatched against him." "Eh? the thing is simple enough. and in proof I am here the very instant you are going to sit at table. and in this way they will chase him to Paris." "He has but a handful of men with him. yet I have your address. devotion." "Grenoble and Lyons are faithful cities. the phrase for hopeful ambition. Really. we are as well informed as you.' But where is he? what is he doing? You do not know at all. three days after the landing. "Yes. to escort him into the capital. Believe me. "you really do seem very well informed. without drawing a trigger. my dear Gerard. for a second knife. with a sneer. and we will dine together. then. you are but a child. looking at his father with astonishment. you wished to conceal your journey from me. and plate." "Devotion!" said Villefort. You gave your direction to no one but your postilion. Would you like a proof of it? well. to go and meet him. You who are in power have only the means that money produces −− we who are in expectation. I believe. `The usurper has landed at Cannes with several men." "Indeed!" replied Villefort. fork." . and our police are as good as your own. Ring. for that is. have those which devotion prompts." "Grenoble will open her gates to him with enthusiasm −− all Lyons will hasten to welcome him. and yet I knew of your arrival half an hour after you had passed the barrier. He is pursued.Chapter 12 136 "The people will rise. and will oppose to him an impassable barrier." "Yes.

or the day before. ha. and whiskers." "Didn't I say that your police were good for nothing?" "Yes. presented himself at his house. "and why. hair. "Wait. and put off his frock−coat and cravat." At these words he rose. to summon the servant whom his son had not called. is it?" said Noirtier. they do know one terrible thing. as he is. and a cane." "What is that?" "The description of the man who. a hat with wide brim. went towards a table ." "However stupid the royalist police may be. then." said Noirtier." and he added with a smile. buttoned up to the chin. Villefort caught his arm. rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor in his button−hole. "true." "True. blue frock−coat. that's it. "one word more. but they may catch him yet." "Oh.Chapter 12 137 And Villefort's father extended his hand to the bell−rope. "He will consequently make a few changes in his personal appearance." "Say on. black. eyebrows. on the morning of the day when General Quesnel disappeared." "Ah." said the young man. if this person were not on his guard. they lost sight of him at the corner of the Rue Coq−Heron. the admirable police have found that out. have they? And what may be that description?" "Dark complexion. my dear father. have they not laid hands on him?" "Because yesterday. looking carelessly around him.

and cut away in front. in lieu of his blue and high−buttoned frock−coat. with a firm hand. and." "Shall you see the king again?" "Perhaps. "well." continued Noirtier. and walked about with that easy swagger which was one of his principal characteristics. do you think your police will recognize me now. lathered his face. Villefort watched him with alarm not devoid of admiration. be assured I will return the favor hereafter. "You are not convinced yet?" "I hope at least. "I rely on your prudence to remove all the things which I leave in your care. "Well." "And now. cut off the compromising whiskers. turning towards his wondering son. instead of his black cravat." stammered Villefort." . "Yes. rely on me. leaving his cane in the corner where he had deposited it. His whiskers cut off." "No. Noirtier gave another turn to his hair.Chapter 12 138 on which lay his son's toilet articles." Villefort shook his head." said Villefort. father. a coat of Villefort's of dark brown. my dear boy. took a razor. and now I believe you are right. "at least. and that you have really saved my life." "Oh. and. a colored neckerchief which lay at the top of an open portmanteau." he said. put on. took. I hope not. tried on before the glass a narrow−brimmed hat of his son's. which appeared to fit him perfectly. cut the air with it once or twice. that you may be mistaken. when this disguise was completed. he took up a small bamboo switch. yes.

go. pursued. ready to desert. sire.' Tell him this. and the prejudices of the army. with a smile. and by your obedience to my paternal orders. Go. Gerard. Sire. Marengo. gather like atoms of snow about the rolling ball as it hastens onward." Noirtier left the room when he had finished. father. go. but some day they do them justice. we will keep you in your place. but by right of conquest. for your adversary is powerful enough to show you mercy. and supposing a second restoration. friendly counsels. This will be. above all. and saw him pass. for this time." added Noirtier. but because it would be humiliating for a grandson of Saint Louis to owe his life to the man of Arcola. Adieu. is already saluted as Bonaparte at Lyons." "True. pale and agitated. enter Marseilles at night. submissive. cool and collected. as to the opinions of the towns. if you prefer it.Chapter 12 139 "Would you pass in his eyes for a prophet?" "Prophets of evil are not in favor at the court. You think he is tracked. by two or three ill−looking men at the corner of the street. or. captured. he is advancing as rapidly as his own eagles. rather. tell him nothing. my son −− go. if the political balance should some day take another turn. put aside the curtain. to him who acquired it. and at your next journey alight at my door. who were there. and there remain. inoffensive. not by purchase. I swear to you. The soldiers you believe to be dying with hunger. ran to the window. do not boast of what you have come to Paris to do. . you would then pass for a great man. with the same calmness that had characterized him during the whole of this remarkable and trying conversation. what should I say to the king?" "Say this to him: `Sire. and emperor at Grenoble. we shall act like powerful men who know their enemies. not that you incur any risk. return with all speed. secret. Villefort. my dear Gerard. he whom in Paris you call the Corsican ogre. Keep your journey a secret. who at Nevers is styled the usurper. and cast you aloft while hurling me down. "one means by which you may a second time save me. leave France to its real master. Austerlitz. and your house by the back−door. or." "Well. and. or have done. quiet. worn out with fatigue. my dear Gerard. you are deceived as to the feeling in France.

Villefort stood watching. breathless. 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. put the black cravat and blue frock−coat at the bottom of the portmanteau. and calling his valet. as he had predicted. and things progressed rapidly. which was ready.Chapter 13 140 perhaps. and thus the Girondin of . and a blue frock−coat. de Blacas had duly forwarded the brevet. M. although M. therefore. and hat with broad brim. have deprived Villefort of his office had it not been for Noirtier. Louis XVIII. sprang into his carriage. which he had the prudence not to wear. at length reached Marseilles. threw the hat into a dark closet. checked with a look the thousand questions he was ready to ask. and at a sign from the emperor the incongruous structure of ancient prejudices and new ideas fell to the ground. paid his bill. who was all powerful at court. broke the cane into small bits and flung it in the fire. Noirtier was a true prophet. Chapter 13 The Hundred Days. until his father had disappeared at the Rue Bussy. Then he turned to the various articles he had left behind him. made but a faint attempt to parry this unexpected blow. doubtless. a return which was unprecedented in the past. Villefort. to arrest a man with black whiskers. the monarchy he had scarcely reconstructed tottered on its precarious foundation. and will probably remain without a counterpart in the future. put on his travelling−cap. learned at Lyons that Bonaparte had entered Grenoble. Napoleon would. and in the midst of the tumult which prevailed along the road. Every one knows the history of the famous return from Elba. a prey to all the hopes and fears which enter into the heart of man with ambition and its first successes.

Owing to this change. returned. scarcely had the emperor re−entered the Tuileries and begun to issue orders from the closet into which we have introduced our readers. de Saint−Meran. The king's procureur alone was deprived of his office. if Louis XVIII.Chapter 13 141 '93 and the Senator of 1806 protected him who so lately had been his protector. −− he found on the table there Louis XVIII. Gerard required a different alliance to aid his career. However. the influence of M. He made Morrel wait in the ante−chamber. Morrel was announced. for the simple reason that the king's procureur always makes every one wait. Any one else would have hastened to receive him. so much so. the worthy shipowner became at that moment −− we will not say all powerful. Villefort retained his place. −− scarcely had this occurred when Marseilles began. because Morrel was a prudent and rather a timid man. If the emperor remained on the throne. and the marriage be still more suitable. always smouldering in the south. and M. .'s half−filled snuff−box. Morrel to be admitted. in spite of the authorities. All Villefort's influence barely enabled him to stifle the secret Dantes had so nearly divulged. and after passing a quarter of an hour in reading the papers. could be vastly increased. he ordered M. when one morning his door opened. The deputy−procureur was. being suspected of royalism. and he knew this would be a sign of weakness. but his marriage was put off until a more favorable opportunity. scarcely was the imperial power established −− that is. but Villefort was a man of ability. like his own. therefore. although he had no one with him. 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. the first magistrate of Marseilles. that many of the most zealous partisans of Bonaparte accused him of "moderation" −− but sufficiently influential to make a demand in favor of Dantes. to rekindle the flames of civil war.

to−day you serve Napoleon. with a patronizing wave of the hand. Morrel. I come.." "Monsieur. "Not in the least." "Come nearer. to ask what has become of him?" . I believe?" said Villefort. and his head leaning on his hand. "Yes. on the contrary. −− "M. pray. that most insurmountable barrier which separates the well−bred from the vulgar man." said Morrel." said the magistrate. Villefort gazed at him as if he had some difficulty in recognizing him." "Everything depends on you. he found him as he had found him six weeks before. therefore. You then served Louis XVIII." "Do you not guess. the mate of my ship. He stopped at the door. during which the honest shipowner turned his hat in his hands. recovering his assurance as he proceeded. I came to intercede for a young man. but if I can serve you in any way I shall be delighted. he felt a cold shudder all over him when he saw Villefort sitting there with his elbow on his desk. firm. then. monsieur?" asked Morrel." "Explain yourself. 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. calm. after a brief interval. He had entered Villefort's office expecting that the magistrate would tremble at the sight of him. and you ought to protect him −− it is equally your duty. and full of that glacial politeness.Chapter 13 142 Morrel expected Villefort would be dejected. sir. "and tell me to what circumstance I owe the honor of this visit. "do you recollect that a few days before the landing of his majesty the emperor. and you did not show any favor −− it was your duty.

the legitimate monarch is he who is loved by his people. in the most natural tone in the world. as I come to−day to plead for justice. "No." "Yes." "Monsieur.Chapter 13 143 Villefort by a strong effort sought to control himself. because I believed the Bourbons not only the heirs to the throne. was conscious only of the other's condescension. or better versed in these matters. −− "Are you quite sure you are not mistaken. the royalists were very severe with the Bonapartists in those days. Villefort had calculated rightly. "Tell me his name. turning to Morrel." returned Villefort." Villefort opened a large register. and then. "What is his name?" said he. but the chosen of the nation. "I was then a royalist. then went to a table. Oh. Do not you recollect. "Dantes." repeated he. disappointed in his expectations of exciting fear. from the table turned to his registers." Villefort would probably have rather stood opposite the muzzle of a pistol at five−and−twenty paces than have heard this name spoken." "Edmond Dantes. but he did not blanch. Had Morrel been a more quick−sighted man. the last four of which he was in my service. "I am not mistaken." . But Morrel. monsieur?" said he. I came about six weeks ago to plead for clemency. "Edmond Dantes." said Morrel. monsieur. The miraculous return of Napoleon has conquered me. I have known him for ten years. You received me very coldly. he would have been surprised at the king's procureur answering him on such a subject. instead of referring him to the governors of the prison or the prefect of the department.

"What can they have done with him?" "Oh." said Villefort. it was a very serious charge. it shall be kept for him." ." "Carried off!" said Morrel. "I have it −− a sailor. M. I recollect now. who was about to marry a young Catalan girl. "The order of imprisonment came from high authority. turning over the leaves of a register. the letters have not yet been forwarded. Some fine morning he will return to take command of your vessel." "But." replied Villefort. he has been taken to Fenestrelles. 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. as Napoleon has scarcely been reinstated a fortnight." "Well?" "I made my report to the authorities at Paris." said Morrel. and a week after he was carried off. to Pignerol.Chapter 13 144 "That's right!" cried Morrel. and I augur well for Edmond from it. "I like to hear you speak thus. Morrel. or to the Sainte−Marguerite islands. "is there no way of expediting all these formalities −− of releasing him from arrest?" "There has been no arrest." "Do not be too hasty." "Come when he will. and the order for his liberation must proceed from the same source." "How so?" "You know that when he left here he was taken to the Palais de Justice. and." "Wait a moment.

and it is as much my duty to free him as it was to condemn him." "Oh." Had Morrel even any suspicions." "And will you undertake to deliver it?" "With the greatest pleasure. "Petition the minister. and does not read three. which. giving up his place to Morrel. so much kindness would have dispelled them. "But how shall I address the minister?" "Sit down there. how would you advise me to act?" asked he. the minister receives two hundred petitions every day. however improbable it might be. The emperor is more strict in prison discipline than even Louis himself." . de Villefort. and the number of prisoners whose names are not on the register is incalculable. "and write what I dictate. "Well. my dear Morrel." "It might be so under the Bourbons. and now he is innocent. so that no written forms or documents may defeat their wishes. Dantes was then guilty." "That is true." said Villefort. if it did take place would leave him defenceless. I know what that is. since the reign of Louis XIV.Chapter 13 145 "How?" "It is sometimes essential to government to cause a man's disappearance without leaving any traces. M. but he will read a petition countersigned and presented by me." Villefort thus forestalled any danger of an inquiry. but at present" −− "It has always been so.

Dantes must be crushed to gratify Villefort's ambition." And.'s throne. and he was made out one of the most active agents of Napoleon's return. "That will do. he carefully preserved the petition that so fearfully compromised Dantes." "Countersigned by you?" "The best thing I can do will be to certify the truth of the contents of your petition." This assurance delighted Morrel." said he. The petition finished.Chapter 13 146 "Will you be so good?" "Certainly. But lose no time. instead of sending to Paris. in which. Villefort read it aloud. sitting down. we have lost too much already. Villefort dictated a petition. "What more is to be done?" "I will do whatever is necessary. Dantes remained a prisoner. no doubt. Dantes' patriotic services were exaggerated. from an excellent intention. "leave the rest to me. who took leave of Villefort." Villefort shuddered at the suggestion." "Will the petition go soon?" "To−day. and hastened to announce to old Dantes that he would soon see his son. and heard not the noise of the fall of Louis XVIII. As for Villefort. or the still more tragic destruction of the empire. but he had gone too far to draw back. a second restoration." "That is true. . Only think what the poor fellow may even now be suffering. −− that is. in the hopes of an event that seemed not unlikely. Villefort wrote the certificate at the bottom. It was evident that at the sight of this document the minister would instantly release him.

as from time to time he sat sad and motionless on the summit of Cape Pharo. for he constantly hopes. and obtained a recommendation from him to a Spanish merchant. and he lived in constant fear of Dantes' return on a mission of vengeance. and Morrel came no more. after the manner of mediocre minds. remained in his dungeon. into whose service he entered at the end of March. He then left for Madrid. at the spot from whence Marseilles and the Catalans are visible. remounted the throne. that is. and then kill himself. and any fresh attempt would only compromise himself uselessly. after the Hundred Days and after Waterloo. and was no more heard of.Chapter 13 147 Twice during the Hundred Days had Morrel renewed his demand. he had done all that was in his power. Villefort. Fernand's mind was made up. And so Dantes. he would shoot Dantes. partly on plans of emigration and abduction. a man of his disposition never kills himself. Danglars comprehended the full extent of the wretched fate that overwhelmed Dantes." But when Napoleon returned to Paris. whose father now stood higher at court than ever. watching for the apparition of a young and handsome man. What had become of him he cared not to inquire. during the respite the absence of his rival afforded him. But Fernand was mistaken. Morrel of his wish to quit the sea. and. At last there was Waterloo. partly on the means of deceiving Mercedes as to the cause of his absence. Fernand understood nothing except that Dantes was absent. ten or twelve days after Napoleon's return. "a decree of Providence. Danglars' heart failed him. Only. . and twice had Villefort soothed him with promises. Louis XVIII. to whom Marseilles had become filled with remorseful memories. he reflected. and a fortnight afterwards he married Mademoiselle de Saint−Meran. forgotten of earth and heaven. sought and obtained the situation of king's procureur at Toulouse. who was for him also the messenger of vengeance. termed the coincidence. He therefore informed M. when Napoleon returned to France. he.

Should Dantes not return. Morrel paid the expenses of his funeral. like Fernand. and almost at the hour of his arrest. and debating as to whether it were not better to cast herself into the abyss of the ocean. even on his death−bed. he was merely sent to the frontier. produced the effect they always produce on noble minds −− Mercedes had always had a sincere regard for Fernand. looking towards Marseilles. and this was now strengthened by gratitude. enrolled in the army. the father of so dangerous a Bonapartist as Dantes. Sometimes she stood mute and motionless as a statue. Five months after he had been separated from his son. Old Dantes. the south was aflame. Had Fernand really meant to kill himself. His devotion. who was only sustained by hope. . being married and eight years older." These words carried a ray of hope into Fernand's heart. and a few small debts the poor old man had contracted. I shall be alone in the world.Chapter 13 148 During this time the empire made its last conscription. he would have done so when he parted from Mercedes. and to assist. lost all hope at Napoleon's downfall. Mercedes was left alone face to face with the vast plain that had never seemed so barren. there was courage. at other times gazing on the sea. but her religious feelings came to her aid and saved her. "be careful of yourself. It was not want of courage that prevented her putting this resolution into execution. bearing with him the terrible thought that while he was away." said she as she placed his knapsack on his shoulders. and thus end her woes. "My brother. was stigmatized as a crime. Mercedes might one day be his. M. Caderousse was. for if you are killed. he breathed his last in Mercedes' arms. Fernand departed with the rest. his rival would perhaps return and marry Mercedes. Bathed in tears she wandered about the Catalan village. and every man in France capable of bearing arms rushed to obey the summons of the emperor. There was more than benevolence in this action. but. and the compassion he showed for her misfortunes. and the sea that had never seemed so vast.

" "Let us visit them.Chapter 14 149 Chapter 14 The Two Prisoners. A year after Louis XVIII. The inspector visited. The universal response was. "We must play the farce to the end. one after another. commit acts of useless violence. through mere uneasiness of life." said the governor. "I do not know what reason government can assign for these useless visits. and that they wanted to be set free. −− ill fed and innocent. you see all." "Let us first send for two soldiers. that the fare was detestable. The inspector asked if they had anything else to ask for. whose good behavior or stupidity recommended them to the clemency of the government. What could they desire beyond their liberty? The inspector turned smilingly to the governor. a visit was made by the inspector−general of prisons." . and you might fall a victim. Dantes in his cell heard the noise of preparation. "The prisoners sometimes. Are there any others?" "Yes. who could hear the splash of the drop of water that every hour fell from the roof of his dungeon. the dangerous and mad prisoners are in the dungeons. the cells and dungeons of several of the prisoners. −− sounds that at the depth where he lay would have been inaudible to any but the ear of a prisoner. and in order to be sentenced to death. that he looked upon himself as dead. and if they had any request to make. They shook their heads." said the inspector with an air of fatigue. but he had so long ceased to have any intercourse with the world. He inquired how they were fed. when you see one prisoner.'s restoration. Let us see the dungeons. He guessed something uncommon was passing among the living. −− always the same thing.

Is it not true. he wanted to kill me!" returned the turnkey." "Was he placed here when he first arrived?" "No. "Shall I complain of him?" demanded the inspector. . −− he is a devil!" returned the turnkey. as to be loathsome to sight. "True enough. as he is daring and resolute. so humid." "How long his he been there?" "Nearly a year. Two soldiers were accordingly sent for. "He is worse than that. so dark." cried the inspector." "He is alone?" "Certainly. a man we are ordered to keep the most strict watch over.Chapter 14 150 "Take all needful precautions. so foul. "who can live here?" "A most dangerous conspirator." replied the inspector. "Oh. and respiration. "He must be mad." said the inspector. who took his food to him." "To kill the turnkey?" "Yes. and the inspector descended a stairway. smell. the very one who is lighting us. Antoine?" asked the governor. not until he attempted to kill the turnkey.

a man full of philanthropy. no. it is useless." returned the inspector. and the creaking of the hinges. sprang forward with clasped hands." This was the inspector's first visit." "So much the better for him. Now we have in a dungeon about twenty feet distant. "I must conscientiously perform my duty. raised his head. who has been here since 1811. Then." replied the governor. The soldiers interposed their bayonets. an abbe." "I will see them both." added he. "and this remark proves that you have deeply considered the subject. who guessed the truth. Besides. he wished to display his authority.Chapter 14 151 "Oh. and he signed to the turnkey to open the door. and sought to inspire him with pity. Dantes." said the inspector. and in another year he will be quite so. and in every way fit for his office. he now laughs. and in 1813 he went mad. who was crouched in a corner of the dungeon. . You had better see him. Dantes saw that he was looked upon as dangerous. escorted by two turnkeys holding torches and accompanied by two soldiers. "Let us visit this one first. He was. "You are right. for his madness is amusing. and the change is astonishing. for they thought that he was about to attack the inspector. Dantes. infusing all the humility he possessed into his eyes and voice. and to whom the governor spoke bareheaded. he now grows fat. formerly leader of a party in Italy. He used to weep. and to which you descend by another stair." replied the governor. Seeing a stranger. sir. he addressed the inspector. and the latter recoiled two or three steps. and that the moment to address himself to the superior authorities was come. At the sound of the key turning in the lock. he is almost mad now. −− he will suffer less. whence he could see the ray of light that came through a narrow iron grating above. "By all means. he grew thin. as this remark shows.

but I was mad. captivity has subdued me −− I have been here so long." "It is true. for instance. "What is it you want?" said he. if innocent. the other day. "I believe so. who saw an . like me. −− why it is but seventeen months. and I beg his pardon. "The 28th of February. then. 1816. then?" asked the inspector." "You are very humble to−day. had arrived at the summit of his ambition −− to a man. for he his always been very good to me. and retreated before the bayonets −− madmen are not afraid of anything." "Only seventeen months." Then. who. not only to me. but to officers of justice and the king. he is afraid." "So long? −− when were you arrested. I don't know. at half−past two in the afternoon. What matters really. especially to a man who." "To−day is the 30th of July. to be set at liberty." "Are you well fed?" said the inspector. the victim of an infamous denunciation. when you tried to kill the turnkey. sir. is that an innocent man should languish in prison. "you are not so always. turning to the prisoner." replied Dantes." remarked the governor. and if I am guilty.Chapter 14 152 The inspector listened attentively. it's of no consequence. turning to the governor. was on the point of marrying a woman he adored. "I want to know what crime I have committed −− to be tried. like me. 1815. I made some curious observations on this at Charenton. "Oh." "And you are not so any longer?" "No. observed. you do not know what is seventeen months in prison! −− seventeen ages rather. to die here cursing his executioners. "He will become religious −− he is already more gentle. to be shot.

but you can plead for me −− you can have me tried −− and that is all I ask." "M. but a trial. sir. Villefort. not pardon." "Go on with the lights. See him." "Oh. "I can tell by your voice you are touched with pity. surely. Let me know my crime. I am free −− then I am saved!" "Who arrested you?" "M. "I know it is not in your power to release me.Chapter 14 153 honorable career opened before him. and ask for me. "I can only promise to examine into your case. then. turning to the governor. You must show me the proofs against him. I ask only for a trial. and whether his aged father be still living! Seventeen months captivity to a sailor accustomed to the boundless ocean." "Certainly. and is ignorant of the fate of his affianced wife. that. then." replied the inspector. and the reason why I was condemned." said the inspector. Uncertainty is worse than all. he is now at Toulouse." . the poor devil touches me. cannot be denied to one who is accused!" "We shall see. "Monsieur. but you will find terrible charges. and hear what he says. not intelligence." "I cannot tell you that. is a worse punishment than human crime ever merited. Have pity on me." continued Dantes. and who loses all in an instant −− who sees his prospects destroyed. Villefort is no longer at Marseilles." said the inspector." cried Dantes." "Monsieur. tell me at least to hope. "On my word. but a verdict −− a trial.

he will ask to speak to you in private. I should never have the courage to come down again." "Had M." said the inspector." Dantes fell on his knees. on the contrary. two." "How curious! −− what is his name?" "The Abbe Faria. this one is not like the other. rely on the notes he has left concerning you?" "Entirely. wait patiently. The door closed.Chapter 14 154 "I am no longer surprised at my detention. then. and offer you five millions. "Will you see the register at once. and prayed earnestly. three. "or proceed to the other cell?" "Let us visit them all. de Villefort any cause of personal dislike to you?" "None. 27. He is now in his fifth year of captivity. "If I once went up those stairs." "What is his folly?" "He fancies he possesses an immense treasure." "I can. and so on progressively." "That is well. and his madness is less affecting than this one's display of reason." murmured Dantes." said the inspector. he was very kind to me." asked the governor. then. but this time a fresh inmate was left with Dantes −− hope. . the third." "Ah. The first year he offered government a million of francs for his release. the second. "since my only protector is removed." "No.

" continued the prisoner. He was drawing in this circle geometrical lines. raising his head. sat a man whose tattered garments scarcely covered him." The turnkey obeyed. like Milan and Florence." continued the inspector. Antoine. "I am sent here by government to visit the prison. I was for twenty years Cardinal Spada's secretary." "Why from the French government?" "Because I was arrested at Piombino. "I am the Abbe Faria." . I hope. he perceived with astonishment the number of persons present." replied the abbe with an air of surprise −− "I want nothing. "and we shall understand each other." "There. "What is it you want?" said the inspector. I was arrested. "it is just as I told you." whispered the governor. unlock the door. He did not move at the sound of the door. now. and continued his calculations until the flash of the torches lighted up with an unwonted glare the sombre walls of his cell. and the inspector gazed curiously into the chamber of the "mad abbe. and I presume that." "Monsieur. since then I have demanded my liberty from the Italian and French government. and wrapped it round him. then. and hear the requests of the prisoners. He hastily seized the coverlet of his bed. why. born at Rome." "You do not understand.Chapter 14 155 "It is here. toward the beginning of the year 1811." cried the abbe. I know not. monsieur." In the centre of the cell." "Oh. that is different. and seemed as much absorbed in his problem as Archimedes was when the soldier of Marcellus slew him. "I. Piombino has become the capital of some French department. in a circle traced with a fragment of plaster detached from the wall.

but it is not that which I wish to speak of." returned the inspector." said the inspector." whispered the governor.Chapter 14 156 "Ah. "I would speak to you of a large sum. "and as the emperor had created the kingdom of Rome for his infant son. if it succeeded. on the whole." "It is the only means of rendering Italy strong. only I am not come to discuss politics. "It is for that reason I am delighted to see you. but to inquire if you have anything to ask or to complain of." continued he. but a secret I have to reveal of the greatest importance. but." "Very possibly. would possibly change Newton's system." "Monsieur. which. I presume that he has realized the dream of Machiavelli and Caesar Borgia. passable for a dungeon. "You knew him. and independent." "The food is the same as in other prisons. Could you allow me a few words in private. amounting to five millions. "although you have disturbed me in a most important calculation." returned the inspector with a smile. "providence has changed this gigantic plan you advocate so warmly. −− that is. "But." said the abbe. happy." "What did I tell you?" said the governor. very bad." "We are coming to the point." . "you have not the latest news from Italy?" "My information dates from the day on which I was arrested. monsieur. the lodging is very unhealthful." continued the abbe. which was to make Italy a united kingdom." returned the Abbe Faria. "What you ask is impossible. addressing Faria.

and I will content myself with the rest." "On my word." continued the governor. seeing that the inspector was about to depart." continued Faria. and I offer to sign an agreement with you." "My dear sir. if they will only give me my liberty. "I can tell you the story as well as he. "and am detained here until my death? this treasure will be lost." The abbe's eyes glistened. "The treasure I speak of really exists.Chapter 14 157 "The very sum you named." whispered the inspector in his turn." said the inspector in a low tone. and if I deceive you. who having ears hear not. "But what if I am not liberated. "of what else should I speak?" "Mr." said the governor." replied Faria." replied the inspector. he seized the inspector's hand. "However. for it has been dinned in my ears for the last four or five years. the governor can be present." "Unfortunately. and having eyes see not." "That proves. with that acuteness of hearing peculiar to prisoners. "that you are like those of Holy Writ. bring me here again. "it is not absolutely necessary for us to be alone. does it not?" Faria fixed his eyes on him with an expression that would have convinced any one else of his sanity." returned the abbe. Had not government better profit by it? I will offer six millions. −− I ask no more. Inspector. it concerns your treasures. "I know beforehand what you are about to say. "keep them until you are liberated. I should believe what he says. in which I promise to lead you to the spot where you shall dig. "Of course. "had I not been told beforehand that this man was mad. the government is rich and does not want your treasures." cried he." said he. "Is the spot far from here?" ." The governor laughed." "I am not mad.

for.Chapter 14 158 "A hundred leagues. and awoke mad. I will keep it for myself. "Counting his treasures. and their guardians consented to accompany them." replied Faria. resumed his place." replied the governor. Faria replied to this sarcasm with a glance of profound contempt." "You do not reply to my question." said the inspector. "He was wealthy once. "Monsieur." And the abbe." Then turning to Faria −− "I inquired if you are well fed?" said he." cried the abbe." said the governor. as I told you." "The scheme is well known." "It is not ill−planned. "Or dreamed he was. and I will stay here while you go to the spot." "Are you well fed?" repeated the inspector. casting away his coverlet." replied the inspector impatiently. and continued his calculations. "and the abbe's plan has not even the merit of originality. "Swear to me. "If all the prisoners took it into their heads to travel a hundred leagues. "to free me if what I tell you prove true." . so there is no chance of my escaping. They went out. perhaps?" said the inspector. "You will not accept my gold. The turnkey closed the door behind them. You refuse me my liberty. "Nor you to mine. I will stay here. God will give it me. you run no risk. they would have a capital chance of escaping. "What is he doing there?" said the inspector.

As the Inquisition rarely allowed its victims to be seen with their limbs distorted and their flesh lacerated by torture. took an active part in the return from Elba. The greatest watchfulness and care to be exercised. gone mad in prison." This visit had infused new vigor into Dantes. would have accorded to the poor wretch. and found the following note concerning him: −− Edmond Dantes: Violent Bonapartist. restrained by the limits of mere probability. The inspector could not contend against this accusation. It has always been against the policy of despotic governments to suffer the victims of their persecutions to reappear. They fear the ear that hears their orders. and shielded by their birth.Chapter 14 159 "After all." said the inspector. and this visit only increased the belief in his insanity. where the doctor has no thought for man or mind in the mutilated being the jailer delivers to him. The inspector kept his word with Dantes. those desirers of the impossible. but now. the liberty he so earnestly prayed for." So the matter ended for the Abbe Faria. he examined the register. he simply wrote. till then. it is conveyed to some gloomy hospital. so madness is always concealed in its cell. The very madness of the Abbe Faria. condemned him to perpetual captivity. but nowadays they are not inviolable. from whence. he had. He remained in his cell. he would not have been here. should it depart. which showed that it had been added since his confinement. . with a fragment of plaster. This note was in a different hand from the rest. 30th July. and the eye that scrutinizes their actions. forgotten the date. "if he had been rich. Caligula or Nero. Formerly they believed themselves sprung from Jupiter. have neither courage nor desire. those treasure−seekers. in exchange for his wealth. he wrote the date. −− "Nothing to be done. But the kings of modern times.

he therefore fixed three months. he learned their numbers instead. and the unhappy young man was no longer called Edmond Dantes −− he was now number 34. he decided that the inspector would do nothing until his return to Paris. not to God. Days and weeks passed away.Chapter 15 160 1816. A new governor arrived. books. then months −− Dantes still waited. God is always the last resource. At the expiration of a year the governor was transferred. three months passed away. and that he would not reach there until his circuit was finished. which justified in some measure the governor's belief in his mental alienation. in order not to lose his reckoning again. He was sustained at first by that pride of conscious innocence which is the sequence to hope. and amongst them Dantes' jailer. This horrible place contained fifty cells. who ought to begin with God. was still a change. he at first expected to be freed in a fortnight. then he began to doubt his own innocence. Finally ten months and a half had gone by and no favorable change had taken place. for a change. but to man. however disadvantageous. an illusion of the brain. and writing materials. and Dantes began to fancy the inspector's visit but a dream. he had obtained charge of the fortress at Ham. it would have been too tedious to acquire the names of the prisoners. Dantes asked to be removed from his present dungeon into another. and would afford him some amusement. He entreated to be allowed to walk about. He took with him several of his subordinates. to have fresh air. This fortnight expired. their inhabitants were designated by the numbers of their cell. and then. His requests were not granted. do not have any hope in him till they have exhausted all other means of deliverance. and made a mark every day. then six more. he addressed his supplications. but he . Dantes passed through all the stages of torture natural to prisoners in suspense. Chapter 15 Number 34 and Number 27. relaxing his sentiment of pride. Unfortunates.

he had tried to speak when alone. for in prosperity prayers seem but a mere medley of words. though rough and hardened by the constant sight of so much suffering. Dantes was a man of great simplicity of thought. and he then turned to God. he sighed for the galleys. although the latter was. Dantes remained a prisoner. 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." Yet in spite of his earnest prayers. but the sound of his voice terrified him. bring to life . Often. for he fell into a sort of ecstasy. Then gloom settled heavily upon him. and prayed aloud. in the solitude of his dungeon. vagabonds. Dantes spoke for the sake of hearing his own voice. He accustomed himself to speaking to the new jailer. 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. All the pious ideas that had been so long forgotten. but the latter sapiently imagined that Dantes wished to conspire or attempt an escape. even though mute. and discovered a new meaning in every word. before his captivity. He now wished to be amongst them. and refused his request. were it even the mad abbe. was something. made up of thieves. therefore. The galley−slaves breathed the fresh air of heaven. he recollected the prayers his mother had taught him. was yet a man. and murderers. The jailer. in order to see some other face besides that of his jailer. to speak to a man. Dantes' mind had revolted at the idea of assemblages of prisoners.Chapter 15 161 went on asking all the same. if possible. They were very happy. and without education. He besought the jailer one day to let him have a companion. and saw each other. the chain. more taciturn than the old one. and the brand on the shoulder. traverse in mental vision the history of the ages. Dantes had exhausted all human resources. no longer terrified at the sound of his own voice. and he laid the request of number 34 before the governor. he could not. proposed tasks to accomplish. At the bottom of his heart he had often had a feeling of pity for this unhappy young man who suffered so. with the infamous costume. He laid every action of his life before the Almighty. but still. returned.

destroyed. Unhappy he. He told himself that it was the enmity of man. if not repose. he began to reflect on suicide. because after torture came death. he whose past life was so short. and after death. whose present so melancholy. Then the letter that Villefort had showed to him recurred to his mind. and found them all insufficient. Nineteen years of light to reflect upon in eternal darkness! No distraction could come to his aid. that would have exalted in thus revisiting the past. dashed himself furiously against the walls of his prison. he considered and reconsidered this idea. at least the boon of unconsciousness. wreaked his anger upon everything. Once thus ensnared. by an unheard−of fatality. and every line gleamed forth in fiery letters on the wall like the mene tekel upharsin of Belshazzar. and chiefly upon himself. on the brink of misfortune. Rage supplanted religious fervor. broods over ideas like these! Before him is a dead sea that stretches in azure calm before the eye. and his struggles but tend to hasten his destruction. This state of mental anguish is. or a breath of air that annoyed him. and rebuild the ancient cities so vast and stupendous in the light of the imagination. was imprisoned like an eagle in a cage. that had thus plunged him into the deepest misery. and not the vengeance of heaven. −− a grain of sand. less terrible than the sufferings that precede or the punishment that possibly . who. unless the protecting hand of God snatch him thence. devoured it (so to speak). without apparent cause. a straw. and if punishment were the end in view other tortures than death must be invented. and that pass before the eye glowing with celestial colors in Martin's Babylonian pictures. however. but he who unwarily ventures within its embrace finds himself struggling with a monster that would drag him down to perdition. By dint of constantly dwelling on the idea that tranquillity was death. He consigned his unknown persecutors to the most horrible tortures he could imagine. as the implacable Ugolino devours the skull of Archbishop Roger in the Inferno of Dante. Dantes uttered blasphemies that made his jailer recoil with horror. He could not do this. and his future so doubtful. He clung to one idea −− that of his happiness. so that the least thing.Chapter 15 162 the nations that had perished. his energetic spirit. led to paroxysms of fury. all is over.

Dantes had always entertained the greatest horror of pirates. as I fall asleep when I have paced three thousand times round my cell. the sea rage and foam. who are hung up to the yard−arm. But the first was repugnant to him. He resolved to adopt the second. Soon the fury of the waves and the sight of the sharp rocks announced the approach of death. because I was unwilling that I. should serve for food to the gulls and ravens. at the bottom of which lie darkness and obscurity. Edmond found some solace in these ideas.Chapter 15 163 will follow. "in my voyages. I have seen the heavens overcast. because to be cast upon a bed of rocks and seaweed seemed terrible. and. or refuse food and die of starvation. He could hang himself with his handkerchief to the window bars. a creature made for the service of God. that trembled and shook before the tempest. Then I felt that my vessel was a vain refuge. But now it is different." No sooner had this idea taken possession of him than he became more composed. and found existence almost supportable. There is a sort of consolation at the contemplation of the yawning abyss. and. I have lost all that bound me to life. and began that day to carry out his resolve. all his sufferings. because he felt that he could throw it off at pleasure. death smiles and invites me to repose. I die after my own manner. like a worn−out garment. Two methods of self−destruction were at his disposal. looking forward with terror to his future existence. and death then terrified me. like a monstrous bird. the storm arise. But I did so because I was happy. with their train of gloomy spectres. "Sometimes. ate little and slept less." said he. beating the two horizons with its wings. chose that middle line that seemed to afford him a refuge. arranged his couch to the best of his power. when I was a man and commanded other men. Dantes reviewed his past life with composure. I die exhausted and broken−spirited. All his sorrows. he would not die by what seemed an infamous death. and I used all my skill and intelligence as a man and a sailor to struggle against the wrath of God. because I had not courted death. fled from his cell when the angel of death seemed about to enter. at the end of the second he had ceased to mark the lapse of time. . Nearly four years had passed away.

then his dungeon seemed less sombre. He was still young −− he was only four or five and twenty −− he had nearly fifty years to live. and restore him to liberty? Then he raised to his lips the repast that. and fearful of changing his mind. or some iron instrument attacking the stones. the gnawing pain at his stomach had ceased." He kept his word. he refused himself. like a voluntary Tantalus. his prospects less desperate.Chapter 15 164 Dantes said. twice a day he cast out. when he closed his eyes he saw myriads of lights dancing before them like the will−o'−the−wisps that play about the marshes. So many loathsome animals inhabited the prison. he had not sufficient strength to rise and cast his supper out of the loophole. Edmond felt a sort of stupor creeping over him which brought with it a feeling almost of content. his thirst had abated. It was a continual scratching. through the barred aperture. and gazed thoughtfully at the morsel of bad meat. What unforseen events might not open his prison door. Edmond hoped he was dying. of black and mouldy bread. in general. about nine o'clock in the evening. It was the twilight of that mysterious country called Death! Suddenly. the jailer feared he was dangerously ill. The next morning he could not see or hear. then with deliberation." and had chosen the manner of his death. a powerful tooth. but he thought of his oath. that their noise did not. "When my morning and evening meals are brought. but whether abstinence had quickened his faculties. now acceptable. the provisions his jailer brought him −− at first gayly. he held the plate in his hand for an hour at a time. and he would not break it. he had taken an oath to die. He persisted until." thought he. "I wish to die. . and they will think that I have eaten them. Nothing but the recollection of his oath gave him strength to proceed. or whether the noise was really louder than usual. "I will cast them out of the window. Edmond heard a hollow sound in the wall against which he was lying. at last. and at last with regret. It was the last yearning for life contending with the resolution of despair. as if made by a huge claw. of tainted fish. Hunger made viands once repugnant. Edmond raised his head and listened. Thus the day passed away. awake him.

doubtless he was deceived. Perhaps one of those beloved ones he had so often thought of was thinking of him. about the bad quality of the food. no.Chapter 15 165 Although weakened. and had sent this noise to warn him on the very brink of the abyss. "it is some prisoner who is striving to obtain his freedom. if I were only there to help him!" Suddenly another idea took possession of his mind. and during the four days that he had been carrying out his purpose. had not answered him when he inquired what was the matter with him. and so destroy a ray of something like hope that soothed his last moments. and placing the food on the rickety table." thought he. For a week since he had resolved to die. and it was but one of those dreams that forerun death! Edmond still heard the sound. grumbling and complaining. about the coldness of his dungeon. No. Oh. Edmond listened. Edmond was intensely interested. Some hours afterwards it began again. in order to have an excuse for speaking louder. and wearying the patience of his jailer. and turned his face to the wall when he looked too curiously at him. It lasted nearly three hours. he then heard a noise of something falling. so used to misfortune. nearer and more distinct. Suddenly the jailer entered. Fortunately. Dantes raised himself up and began to talk about everything. "There can be no doubt about it. he fancied that Dantes was delirious. and striving to diminish the distance that separated them. . he withdrew. who out of kindness of heart had brought broth and white bread for his prisoner. The jailer brought him his breakfast. the young man's brain instantly responded to the idea that haunts all prisoners −− liberty! It seemed to him that heaven had at length taken pity on him. Edmond had not spoken to the attendant. and all was silent. and the sound became more and more distinct. but now the jailer might hear the noise and put an end to it.

staggered towards it.Chapter 15 166 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. Full of hope. and drank off the contents with a feeling of indescribable pleasure. Edmond swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread and water. thanks to the vigor of his constitution. he will soon resume it. He struck thrice. in order to find out who is knocking. and with it knocked against the wall where the sound came. but without compromising anybody. detached a stone. I need but knock against the wall. "I must put this to the test." Edmond rose again. but how could he risk the question? It was easy to call his jailer's attention to the noise. and his sight was clear. two hours passed. but this time his legs did not tremble. and not begin again until he thinks every one is asleep. He soon felt that his ideas became again collected −− he could think. He saw but one means of restoring lucidity and clearness to his judgment. It was easy to ascertain this. He turned his eyes towards the soup which the jailer had brought. . If it is a workman. and. and no sound was heard from the wall −− all was silent there. and watch his countenance as he listened. raised the vessel to his lips. it is a prisoner. Edmond replaced on the table the bread he was about to devour. If. as if by magic. Edmond listened intently. Then he said to himself. he will cease. and strengthen his thoughts by reasoning. and returned to his couch −− he did not wish to die. but might he not by this means destroy hopes far more important than the short−lived satisfaction of his own curiosity? Unfortunately. Edmond's brain was still so feeble that he could not bend his thoughts to anything in particular. on the contrary. an hour passed. and he will cease to work. He had often heard that shipwrecked persons had died through having eagerly devoured too much food. and why he does so. the noise I make will alarm him. he went to a corner of his dungeon. but as his occupation is sanctioned by the governor. rose. found himself well−nigh recovered. At the first blow the sound ceased.

fancied he heard an almost imperceptible movement among the stones. Edmond did not close his eyes. The bed had . and had substituted a lever for a chisel. The matter was no longer doubtful.Chapter 15 167 The day passed away in utter silence −− night came without recurrence of the noise. Encouraged by this discovery. with his ear for the hundredth time at the wall. a chair. and a jug. Three days passed −− seventy−two long tedious hours which he counted off by minutes! At length one evening. but he had too often assured himself of its solidity. and so preparing himself for his future destiny. and then went back and listened. Edmond determined to assist the indefatigable laborer. he had no knife or sharp instrument. a table. walked up and down his cell to collect his thoughts. he ate these listening anxiously for the sound. restoring vigor and agility to his limbs by exercise. Something was at work on the other side of the wall. as the jailer was visiting him for the last time that night. Dantes. He began by moving his bed. and displace a stone. the window grating was of iron. the prisoner had discovered the danger. a pail. who did not guess he had been disturbed by a captive as anxious for liberty as himself. He moved away." said Edmond joyfully. penetrate the moist cement. shaking the iron bars of the loophole. walking round and round his cell. The night passed in perfect silence. and looked around for anything with which he could pierce the wall. "It is a prisoner. He saw nothing. and grew impatient at the prudence of the prisoner. In the morning the jailer brought him fresh provisions −− he had already devoured those of the previous day. All his furniture consisted of a bed. At intervals he listened to learn if the noise had not begun again.

The damp had rendered it friable. but at the end of half an hour he had scraped off a handful. and waited for day. He let the jug fall on the floor. Dantes told him that the jug had fallen from his hands while he was drinking. Day came. which was to break the jug. a mathematician might have calculated that in two years. Dantes concealed two or three of the sharpest fragments in his bed. The breaking of his jug was too natural an accident to excite suspicion. he pushed back his bed.Chapter 15 168 iron clamps. and it broke in pieces. and it would have required a screw−driver to take them off. and he soon felt that he was working against something very hard. who continued to mine his way. The table and chair had nothing. Dantes heard joyfully the key grate in the lock. Dantes had but one resource. The prisoner reproached himself with not having thus employed the hours he had passed in vain hopes. and with one of the sharp fragments attack the wall. that he had labored uselessly the previous evening in attacking the stone instead of removing the plaster that surrounded it. During the six years that he had been imprisoned. but in the darkness he could not do much. and despondency. but they were screwed to the wood. but that had been removed. All night he heard the subterranean workman. might be formed. He returned speedily. and the jailer went grumblingly to fetch another. what might he not have accomplished? . leaving the rest on the floor. the jailer entered. saw by the faint light that penetrated into his cell. and departed. he listened until the sound of steps died away. advised the prisoner to be more careful. supposing that the rock was not encountered. Edmond had all the night to work in. prayer. the pail had once possessed a handle. a passage twenty feet long and two feet broad. and Dantes was able to break it off −− in small morsels. without giving himself the trouble to remove the fragments of the broken one. hastily displacing his bed. it is true. and then.

" said Dantes. for Dantes had noticed that it was either quite full. this saucepan contained soup for both prisoners. Dantes' entire dinner service consisted of one plate −− there was no alternative. therefore. The jailer always brought Dantes' soup in an iron saucepan. or half empty. as he entered. Dantes strove to do this with his nails.Chapter 15 169 In three days he had succeeded. and Dantes. The wall was built of rough stones. according as the turnkey gave it to him or to his companion first. Then he looked about for something to pour the soup into. It was one of these he had uncovered. blocks of hewn stone were at intervals imbedded. washed the plate. and was he to wait inactive until his fellow workman had completed his task? Suddenly an idea occurred to him −− he smiled. This time he could not blame Dantes. The jailer was accustomed to pour the contents of the saucepan into Dantes' plate. "Leave the saucepan. Dantes would have given ten years of his life in exchange for it. and the perspiration dried on his forehead. in removing the cement. "you can take it away when you bring me my breakfast. with the utmost precaution. and which he must remove from its socket. He was wrong to leave it there. as it spared him the . among which. to give strength to the structure. but the jailer was wrong not to have looked before him. The handle of this saucepan was of iron. The fragments of the jug broke. but they were too weak. and after an hour of useless toil. stepped on it and broke it. which thus served for every day. The jailer. only grumbled. after eating his soup with a wooden spoon. the jailer. Now when evening came Dantes put his plate on the ground near the door." This advice was to the jailer's taste. he paused. and exposing the stone−work. Was he to be thus stopped at the beginning.

When the hour for his jailer's visit arrived. and after waiting an hour." Dantes raised his eyes to heaven and clasped his hands beneath the coverlet. All day he toiled on untiringly. he continued to work without ceasing. then you make me break your plate. Dantes was beside himself with joy. He rapidly devoured his food. "No. this was a greater reason for proceeding −− if his neighbor would not come to him. At the dawn of day he replaced the stone. however. he would go to his neighbor. Dantes straightened the handle of the saucepan as well as he could. don't you intend to bring me another plate?" said Dantes. and employed it as a lever. The breakfast consisted of a piece of bread. and covered it with earth. took the handle of the saucepan. He felt more gratitude for the possession of this piece of iron than he had ever felt for anything. Then. he removed his bed. "Well. and by the evening he had succeeded in extracting ten handfuls of plaster and fragments of stone. Dantes carefully collected the plaster." replied the turnkey. I shall leave you the saucepan. the government would be ruined. and placed it in its accustomed place. leaving a cavity a foot and a half in diameter. wishing to make the best use of his time while he had the means of labor. and lay down. So for the future I hope you will not be so destructive. that the prisoner on the other side had ceased to labor. lest the jailer should change his mind and return. A slight oscillation showed Dantes that all went well. He had noticed.Chapter 15 170 necessity of making another trip. no matter. if all the prisoners followed your example. carried it into the corner of his cell. At the end of an hour the stone was extricated from the wall. "you destroy everything. inserted the point between the hewn stone and rough stones of the wall. First you break your jug. pushed his bed against the wall. He left the saucepan. The turnkey poured his ration of soup into it. This would have been a . the jailer entered and placed the bread on the table. together with the fish −− for thrice a week the prisoners were deprived of meat. and pour your soup into that.

my God. "O my God. 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. it was necessary. after having deprived me of death. However.Chapter 15 171 method of reckoning time. have pity on me. Who are you?" "Who are you?" said the voice. who made no hesitation in answering. but met with a smooth surface. after having recalled me to existence." . Dantes touched it. the turnkey retired. Dantes wished to ascertain whether his neighbor had really ceased to work. though the sound of your voice terrifies me. deadened by the distance. "Of what country?" "A Frenchman. and. my God!" murmured he. "In the name of heaven. the hole Dantes had made. and found that it was a beam. This beam crossed. and a jailer is no man to a prisoner −− he is a living door. "speak again." Edmond had not heard any one speak save his jailer for four or five years. had not Dantes long ceased to do so. therefore. that I hoped my prayers had been heard. it was evident that his neighbor distrusted him. and he rose to his knees. "I hear a human voice. a barrier of flesh and blood adding strength to restraints of oak and iron." replied Dantes. to dig above or under it. sounded hollow and sepulchral in the young man's ears. as it had been for the last three days. "I have so earnestly prayed to you. The unhappy young man had not thought of this. The iron made no impression. "Ah. or rather blocked up. but after two or three hours he encountered an obstacle. He listened −− all was silent. "An unhappy prisoner. Having poured out the soup." cried Dantes. he toiled on all the night without being discouraged. Dantes sighed. After having deprived me of my liberty. Edmond's hair stood on end." said he.

"Do not dig any more. "only tell me how high up is your excavation?" "On a level with the floor. and was sent to the Island of Elba.Chapter 15 172 "Your name?" "Edmond Dantes." said the voice. 1815." Dantes shuddered." "What! For the emperor's return? −− the emperor is no longer on the throne." "Your profession?" "A sailor." "Your crime?" "I am innocent. then?" "He abdicated at Fontainebleau in 1814." ." "How long have you been here?" "Since the 28th of February. But how long have you been here that you are ignorant of all this?" "Since 1811." "But of what are you accused?" "Of having conspired to aid the emperor's return. this man had been four years longer than himself in prison.

" "And the corridor?" "On a court. and have come out fifteen feet from where I intended.Chapter 15 173 "How is it concealed?" "Behind my bed. I took the wall you are mining for the outer wall of the fortress." "And supposing you had succeeded?" "I should have thrown myself into the sea." "But then you would be close to the sea?" "That is what I hoped." "Has your bed been moved since you have been a prisoner?" "No." "What does your chamber open on?" "A corridor. "Oh. I took the wrong angle. "I have made a mistake owing to an error in my plans. what is the matter?" cried Dantes." "Alas!" murmured the voice." "Could you have swum so far?" . gained one of the islands near here −− the Isle de Daume or the Isle de Tiboulen −− and then I should have been safe.

rather than betray you. no. 27. I will not forget you. stop up your excavation carefully. "at that age he cannot be a traitor. but I conjure you do not abandon me. Edmond fancied he heard a bitter laugh resounding from the depths. I swear to you. who you are?" "I am −− I am No." cried Dantes. "Oh.Chapter 15 174 "Heaven would have given me strength." "You mistrust me. and wait until you hear from me. guessing instinctively that this man meant to abandon him. but your age reassures me." cried Dantes. that I will dash my brains out against the wall. 1815. then. "I swear to you by him who died for us that naught shall induce me to breathe one syllable to my jailers." said Dantes. and leave you. do not work any more. at least." "Tell me. "I swear to you again." "Oh. that I was just nineteen when I was arrested. and ask for my assistance. for I was about to form another plan." . Wait." "All?" "Yes. but now all is lost. for I have got to the end of my strength. All I do know is. no. for I have not counted the years I have been here." "How old are you? Your voice is that of a young man. I am a Christian." "I do not know my age. and you will have my death to reproach yourself with. I would allow myself to be hacked in pieces!" "You have done well to speak to me." "Not quite twenty−six!" murmured the voice. the 28th of February. If you do.

he would have a companion. I will be your son." "But you will not leave me. perhaps. and pushed his bed back against the wall. at the worst. I only love him and a young girl called Mercedes. He was. I am sure. and I of those whom I love. He then gave himself up to his happiness. We will escape. He sat down occasionally on his bed. whom he loved already. I am alone in the world." returned the voice. All day Dantes walked up and down his cell. you of those whom you love. I will give you the signal.Chapter 15 175 "How long?" "I must calculate our chances. about to regain his liberty. he would kill him with his water jug. Dantes rose. pressing his hand on his heart. and prayers where two or three are gathered together invoke the mercy of heaven. He would no longer be alone. Plaints made in common are almost prayers. He would be condemned to die. but God alone knows if she loves me still." "It is well. At the slightest noise he bounded towards the door." "Then you will love me. I have a father who is seventy if he yet lives. I will be your comrade. I shall love you as I loved my father. but he was about to die of grief and despair when this miraculous noise recalled him to life. and if we cannot escape we will talk. dispersed the fragments with the same precaution as before." These few words were uttered with an accent that left no doubt of his sincerity. Once or twice the thought crossed his mind that he might be separated from this unknown. If you are young. you will come to me. and then his mind was made up −− when the jailer moved his bed and stooped to examine the opening. or you will let me come to you. if you are old. and captivity that is shared is but half captivity. You must love somebody?" "No. My father has not yet forgotten me. "to−morrow. .

suddenly gave way. however. I entreat you. so that we have twelve hours before us. first the head. "he will not return until the evening. "I am here. he saw appear. The jailer went away shaking his head. he drew back smartly. yes. "Come. Night came. yes. he heard three knocks. just as he removed his bed from the wall. while a mass of stones and earth disappeared in a hole that opened beneath the aperture he himself had formed. as he knelt with his head in the opening." "Is your jailer gone?" "Yes. "Oh. are you going mad again?" Dantes did not answer. Doubtless there was a strange expression in his eyes. and lastly the body of a man. then the shoulders." said Dantes. Then from the bottom of this passage." "I can work. this instant. but he was mistaken. the depth of which it was impossible to measure. he threw himself on his knees. for the jailer said. It seemed to him that thus he better guarded the unfinished opening. then?" said the voice. Dantes hoped that his neighbor would profit by the silence to address him. Dantes was on his bed." In a moment that part of the floor on which Dantes was resting his two hands. . who sprang lightly into his cell.Chapter 16 176 The jailer came in the evening. Chapter 16 A Learned Italian. he feared that the emotion of his voice would betray him. The next morning. "Is it you?" said he.

he said. He received the enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident pleasure. I have all that are necessary. but I suppose you had no tools to aid you. and with the exception of a file. almost buried beneath the thick gray eyebrow." exclaimed Dantes. −− a chisel. in order to obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the imperfect light that struggled through the grating. "whether it is possible to remove the traces of my entrance here −− our future tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely ignorant of it." "Why. fitting it into its place. and a long (and still black) beard reaching down to his breast." Advancing to the opening. He had a deep−set. penetrating eye. and lever. "Let us first see. "do you possess any?" "I made myself some. He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly welcome. The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty−five years. deeply furrowed by care." . with astonishment. with hair blanched rather by suffering and sorrow than by age. pincers. Dantes almost carried him towards the window. His thin face. then. 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. He was a man of small stature. −− "You removed this stone very carelessly. betokened a man more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties than his physical strength. as though his chilled affections were rekindled and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent.Chapter 16 177 Seizing in his arms the friend so long and ardently desired. 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. he stooped and raised the stone easily in spite of its weight. Large drops of perspiration were now standing on his brow. and the bold outline of his strongly marked features. 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." said he.

here is my chisel." "Well. he displayed a sharp strong blade." "Fifty feet!" responded Dantes. and throw myself into the sea. a distance of about fifty feet. "And with what did you contrive to make that?" inquired Dantes. how I should like to see these products of your industry and patience." So saying. with a handle made of beechwood. unfortunately. "but the corridor you speak of only bounds one side of my cell. I expected. that persons are stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely to overhear the conversation of the prisoners. to reach the outer wall. young man −− don't speak so loud. for want of the necessary geometrical instruments to calculate my scale of proportion." "That makes no difference." "That's true. there are three others −− do you know anything of their situation?" .Chapter 16 178 "Oh. "Do not speak so loud. however. almost terrified. instead of going beneath it. I have." said Dantes." "And you say that you dug your way a distance of fifty feet to get here?" "I do. and this very tool has sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I came hither. only. in the first place. instead of taking an ellipsis of forty feet. kept along the corridor on which your chamber opens. I made it fifty. It frequently occurs in a state prison like this. pierce through it." "But they believe I am shut up alone here. My labor is all in vain. "With one of the clamps of my bedstead. for I find that the corridor looks into a courtyard filled with soldiers. that is about the distance that separates your chamber from mine. I did not curve aright. as I told you.

whom as yet Dantes knew only by the number of his cell. This side of your chamber looks out upon a kind of open gallery. sprang up with an agility by no means to be expected in a person of his years. so as to be able to command a perfect view from top to bottom. divining the wishes of his companion. and were we to work our way through. As the stranger asked the question. we should only get into some lock−up cellars." . and. The elder prisoner pondered the matter. for better security. so as to quiet all apprehensions even in the mind of the most suspicious jailer as to the possibility of a prisoner's escape. to an opening through which a child could not have passed. where we must necessarily be recaptured. then. "What was it that you thought?" asked the young man anxiously." said he to Dantes. "it is so. and from them to his shoulders. and. was. in his turn descending from the table. he dragged the table beneath the window. and sentries keep watch day and night. 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. The stranger. "I thought so!" and sliding from the shoulders of Dantes as dextrously as he had ascended. "Yes.Chapter 16 179 "This one is built against the solid rock. mounted on the table. furnished with three iron bars. he managed to slip his head between the upper bars of the window. light and steady on his feet as a cat or a lizard." said he at length. where patrols are continually passing. he nimbly leaped from the table to the ground. saying. The young man obeyed. as many years to perforate it. An instant afterwards he hastily drew back his head. duly furnished with the requisite tools. "Climb up. The fourth and last side of your cell faces on −− faces on −− stop a minute. for the ceiling of the dungeon prevented him from holding himself erect. This adjoins the lower part of the governor's apartments. placed his back securely against the wall and held out both hands. which gradually diminished in size as it approached the outside. climbed from the table to the outstretched hands of Dantes. This loophole. and it would take ten experienced miners. bending double.

named king of Rome even in his cradle." answered the stranger. It was at this period I learned that the destiny which seemed subservient to every wish formed by Napoleon. previously to which I had been confined for three years in the fortress of Fenestrelle. Then who reigns . alas." "Willingly. "I am the Abbe Faria. "the will of God be done!" and as the old man slowly pronounced those words. had bestowed on him a son. Pray let me know who you really are?" The stranger smiled a melancholy smile. In the year 1811 I was transferred to Piedmont in France. I saw the soldier's shape and the top of his musket. I entreat of you.Chapter 16 180 "Are you quite sure of that?" "Certain. you can console and support me by the strength of your own powerful mind." "Say not so. "Tell me. this colossus of power would be overthrown. and have been imprisoned as you know in this Chateau d'If since the year 1811." "Well?" inquired Dantes. "You perceive then the utter impossibility of escaping through your dungeon?" "Then. now. "never have I met with so remarkable a person as yourself. "if. for I was fearful he might also see me. indeed." answered the elder prisoner. I was very far then from expecting the change you have just informed me of. you feel any curiosity respecting one. powerless to aid you in any way. that made me draw in my head so quickly." said he. who and what you are?" said he at length. Dantes gazed on the man who could thus philosophically resign hopes so long and ardently nourished with an astonishment mingled with admiration." pursued the young man eagerly −− "Then. an air of profound resignation spread itself over his careworn countenance. that four years afterwards. namely. "Then listen.

yes. and instead of allowing it to be split up into a quantity of petty principalities. who feigned to enter into my views only to betray me.. after Cromwell. my friend!" said the abbe. and. "we are prisoners. like Machiavelli. lastly.! How inscrutable are the ways of providence −− for what great and mysterious purpose has it pleased heaven to abase the man once so elevated. each held by some weak or tyrannical ruler. because I fancied I had found my Caesar Borgia in a crowned simpleton." continued he.?" "No. Charles II. compact.. a stadtholder who becomes a king. and surveying him with the kindling gaze of a prophet. and I fancy myself at liberty. It was the plan of Alexander VI. if ever I get out of prison!" "True. Ah. "'Twill be the same as it was in England. turning towards Dantes. I desired to alter the political face of Italy." "But wherefore are you here?" "Because in 1807 I dreamed of the very plan Napoleon tried to realize in 1811. and there are even moments when my mental vision transports me beyond these walls. and Clement VII. Italy seems ." "The brother of Louis XVII. After Charles I. and powerful empire. 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. Louis XVIII. "Yes. you will see all this come to pass. then a constitution. and then some son−in−law or relation.. because. some Prince of Orange.. I sought to form one large. "you are young. Then new concessions to the people." "Probably. but I forget this sometimes. for they attempted it fruitlessly. but it will never succeed now.Chapter 16 181 in France at this moment −− Napoleon II. and then James II." replied Faria. then liberty. and Napoleon was unable to complete his work. Cromwell.

and I consider it impious to attempt that which the Almighty evidently does not approve." answered Dantes." he asked. −− "Then you abandon all hope of escape?" "I perceive its utter impossibility. 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. be not discouraged. I should be promoted to the honor of making sport for the children.Chapter 16 182 fated to misfortune. at length he said. In the first place." Dantes remained for a short time mute and motionless. if such innocent beings could be found in an abode devoted like this to suffering and despair. it shows how little notion you can have of all it has cost me to effect a purpose so unexpectedly frustrated. and have been two years scraping and digging out earth. you mean. "the priest who here in the Chateau d'If is generally thought to be −− ill?" "Mad. for many years permitted to amuse the different visitors with what is said to be my insanity. that you talk of beginning over again. smiling. but of Clement VII." resumed Faria with a bitter smile. he knew nothing. then what toil and fatigue has it not been to remove huge stones I should once have deemed impossible to loosen. don't you?" "I did not like to say so. by acknowledging that I am the poor mad prisoner of the Chateau d'If. Dantes could not understand a man risking his life for such matters. I was four years making the tools I possess. inasmuch as he had seen and spoken with him. "Are you not. and. "Well. hard as granite itself. and Alexander VI. Whole days have I passed in these Titanic . in all probability. Napoleon certainly he knew something of. then." And the old man bowed his head." "Nay. "let me answer your question in full.

for which I had so exactly husbanded my strength as to make it just hold out to the termination of my enterprise. There are. if successful. by night−time I had contrived to carry away a square inch of this hard−bound cement. had contrived to provide himself with tools requisite for so . Escape had never once occurred to him. and now. at the risk of being dashed to pieces against the rocks." Dantes held down his head.Chapter 16 183 efforts. some things which appear so impossible that the mind does not dwell on them for an instant. would conduct you to a precipice overhanging the sea −− to plunge into the waves from the height of fifty. indeed. To undermine the ground for fifty feet −− to devote three years to a labor which. But the sight of an old man clinging to life with so desperate a courage. but the well is now so completely choked up. my hopes are forever dashed from me. I repeat again. changed by ages into a substance unyielding as the stones themselves. Consider also that I fully believed I had accomplished the end and aim of my undertaking. resigning himself rather to death. had attempted what he had not had sufficient resolution to undertake. considering my labor well repaid if. and inspired him with new courage. perhaps a hundred feet. 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. No. 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. at the moment when I reckoned upon success. and even. This same person. then to conceal the mass of earth and rubbish I dug up. Another. supposing all these perils past. that nothing shall induce me to renew attempts evidently at variance with the Almighty's pleasure. should you have been fortunate enough to have escaped the fire of the sentinels. older and less strong than he. gave a fresh turn to his ideas. that I scarcely think it would be possible to add another handful of dust without leading to discovery. with almost incredible patience and perseverance. while Edmond himself remained standing. and throw the fruits of my labor into the hollow part of it. sixty. and had failed only because of an error in calculation. I was compelled to break through a staircase. The abbe sank upon Edmond's bed.

"I have found what you were in search of!" Faria started: "Have you. the young man suddenly exclaimed. Rattonneau. and that you possess. then. Faria. This time you will lay your plans more accurately." "And is not above fifteen feet from it?" "About that. let me know what it is you have discovered?" "The corridor through which you have bored your way from the cell you occupy here. had devoted three years to the task." "Well. we shall get out into the gallery you have described. All we require to insure success is courage. like himself. who had so often for mere amusement's sake plunged to the bottom of the sea to fetch up the bright coral branch. you have . I will tell you what we must do. Another had done all this. had not shrunk from the idea of risking his life by trying to swim a distance of three miles to one of the islands −− Daume. indeed?" cried he. was it impossible to Dantes? Faria had dug his way through fifty feet. which I am not deficient in. does it not?" "It does. Faria. and to remember that what has once been done may be done again. kill the sentinel who guards it. a priest and savant. and make our escape. raising his head with quick anxiety.Chapter 16 184 unparalleled an attempt. then. We must pierce through the corridor by forming a side opening about the middle. Dantes would dig a hundred. shrink from a similar task. he. hesitate to entertain the same project? He could do it in an hour. for pure pastime. would sacrifice six. or Lemaire. After continuing some time in profound meditation. as it were the top part of a cross. why. should he. who was but half as old. and strength. an experienced diver. extends in the same direction as the outer gallery. continued in the water for more than twice as long! At once Dantes resolved to follow the brave example of his energetic companion. and how many times had he. at the age of fifty. should a hardy sailer. "pray. as for patience.

"Because. "Is it possible." A slight movement of surprise escaped Dantes. needs but the sense of smell to show him when his prey . and what use I intend making of my strength. but I cannot so easily persuade myself to pierce a heart or take away a life." replied the abbe." replied Faria. not men. I consider that I have abundantly exercised that in beginning every morning the task of the night before. But then. "that where your liberty is at stake you can allow any such scruple to deter you from obtaining it?" "Tell me. my dear friend. 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. Hitherto I have fancied myself merely waging war against circumstances. "the natural repugnance to the commission of such a crime prevented you from thinking of it. "do you think yourself more guilty in making the attempt since you have encountered me?" "No." said he. dressing yourself in his clothes. "what has hindered you from knocking down your jailer with a piece of wood torn from your bedstead. and every night renewing the task of the day." said the old man." "One instant. neither do I wish to incur guilt. and so it ever is because in simple and allowable things our natural instincts keep us from deviating from the strict line of duty. and merited not condemnation. As for patience. "it is clear you do not understand the nature of the courage with which I am endowed.Chapter 16 185 abundantly proved yours −− you shall now see me prove mine. young man (and I pray of you to give me your full attention). or destroy a staircase. The tiger." answered Dantes. I have thought it no sin to bore through a wall. whose nature teaches him to delight in shedding blood." "And have your notions changed?" asked Dantes with much surprise. and endeavoring to escape?" "Simply the fact that the idea never occurred to me.

and those are the best of all. profit by it. 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. and when it presents itself. and by following this instinct he is enabled to measure the leap necessary to permit him to spring on his victim. on the contrary. Then there are those for which chance sometimes affords opportunity. those that proceed from the head and those that emanate from the heart. Let us. "I had none but what I made for myself. ink. and carefully arranged. "I did not turn to that source for recreation or support." "Ah. "you might well endure the tedious delay." "Were you then permitted the use of pens. and paper?" "Oh." "I assure you. for instance. They have rarely been successful." said Dantes. as the escape of the Duc de Beaufort from the Chateau de Vincennes. you had your hopes to refresh and encourage you. of Latude from the Bastille. Those that have been crowned with full success have been long meditated upon. for there are two distinct sorts of ideas.Chapter 16 186 is within his reach. therefore." "What did you do then?" "I wrote or studied." said Faria. that of the Abbe Dubuquoi from For l'Eveque." replied the old man. or rather soul. no." answered the abbe. such. "Since my imprisonment. loathes the idea of blood −− it is not alone that the laws of social life inspire him with a shrinking dread of taking life. "I have thought over all the most celebrated cases of escape on record. wait patiently for some favorable moment. and when weary with toil. you were constantly employed in the task you set yourself." . but man.

my young friend. then. "When you pay me a visit in my cell. Xenophon. I found out that with one hundred and fifty well−chosen books a man possesses.Chapter 16 187 "You made paper. and was the intimate friend of Cabanis. I devoted three years of my life to reading and studying these one hundred and fifty volumes." "You are. Mark's column at Venice. if not a complete summary of all human knowledge." "But for such a work you must have needed books −− had you any?" "I had nearly five thousand volumes in my library at Rome. a very slight effort of memory has enabled me to recall their contents as readily as though the pages were open before me. the fruits of the thoughts and reflections of my whole life. Plutarch. many of them meditated over in the shades of the Coloseum at Rome. pens and ink?" "Yes. so that since I have been in prison." Dantes gazed with admiration. I know Lavoisier. at the foot of St. but after reading them over many times. Tacitus. . 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. Faria saw this. a chemist?" "Somewhat." "And on what have you written all this?" "On two of my shirts. little imagining at the time that they would be arranged in order within the walls of the Chateau d'If.' and will make one large quarto volume. but he had some difficulty in believing." said he. and on the borders of the Arno at Florence. at least all that a man need really know. Titus Livius. "I will show you an entire work. till I knew them nearly by heart. I invented a preparation that makes linen as smooth and as easy to write on as parchment.

and Saturday. and traversing at will the path of history I . I forget the present. but I certainly should have no difficulty in explaining my wants and wishes. for I will freely confess that my historical labors have been my greatest solace and relief. by the aid of ancient Greek I learned modern Greek −− I don't speak it so well as I could wish. I selected the cartilages of the heads of these fishes. While retracing the past. English. I speak five of the modern tongues −− that is to say. I know nearly one thousand words. and Bossuet. he added. and arranged them. Dante. returned. and Spanish. I made a vocabulary of the words I knew. German. but I am still trying to improve myself. which would be universally preferred to all others if once known." "Improve yourself!" repeated Dantes. as affording me the means of increasing my stock of pens. who almost fancied he had to do with one gifted with supernatural powers. although I believe there are nearly one hundred thousand in the dictionaries. Friday. Shaksepeare. so as to enable me to express my thoughts through their medium. doubtless. so as to have been able to read all these?" "Yes. Well. "why. still hoping to find some imperfection which might bring him down to a level with human beings. Machiavelli. Montaigne. acquainted with a variety of languages. turned. Italian. which is all that is absolutely necessary." "You are. "Then if you were not furnished with pens. You are aware what huge whitings are served to us on maigre days.Chapter 16 188 Strada. how did you manage to write the work you speak of?" "I made myself some excellent ones. and that would be quite as much as I should ever require. I name only the most important. how can you manage to do so?" "Why. and you can scarcely imagine the delight with which I welcomed the arrival of each Wednesday." Stronger grew the wonder of Dantes. Spinoza. French. Jornandes. I cannot hope to be very fluent.

did not admit of their holding themselves erect. the two friends reached the further end of the corridor." said Dantes." "But the ink. however. "Follow me." "And when. then let it be directly!" exclaimed the young man. and barely permitted one to creep through on hands and knees." replied the abbe." replied Faria.Chapter 17 189 cease to remember that I am myself a prisoner." said the abbe. and wrote with my own blood. in which he soon disappeared. I pricked one of my fingers. . "Oh. Still." asked Dantes. for it was thickly covered with a coating of soot. and it had been by raising one of the stones in the most obscure corner that Faria had to been able to commence the laborious task of which Dantes had witnessed the completion. as he re−entered the subterranean passage. Chapter 17 The Abbe's Chamber. this soot I dissolved in a portion of the wine brought to me every Sunday. After having passed with tolerable ease through the subterranean passage. "but it was closed up long ere I became an occupant of this prison. followed by Dantes. then. for which closer attention is required. "of what did you make your ink?" "There was formerly a fireplace in my dungeon. into which the abbe's cell opened. which. "may I see all this?" "Whenever you please. from that point the passage became much narrower. and I assure you a better ink cannot be desired. The floor of the abbe's cell was paved. it must have been many years in use. For very important notes.

and of which he could feel nothing. beneath which was a cavity of considerable depth." This last explanation was wholly lost upon Dantes. appeared to him perfectly impossible.Chapter 17 190 As he entered the chamber of his friend. which are in accordance with the double motion of the earth." The abbe smiled. "we have some hours before us −− it is now just a quarter past twelve o'clock. and. serving as a safe depository of the articles mentioned to Dantes. which had doubtless been the hearth. "and then observe the lines traced on the wall. but nothing more than common met his view. A double movement of the globe he inhabited. that it moved. Each word that fell from his companion's lips seemed fraught with the mysteries of science." said the abbe. while the sun and earth never vary in their appointed paths." said he to the abbe. "What do you wish to see first?" asked the abbe. "Look at this ray of light which enters by my window. your great work on the monarchy of Italy!" . "It is well. raised. "I am anxious to see your treasures. "Come. from seeing the sun rise from behind the mountains and set in the Mediterranean. and not the earth. Dantes cast around one eager and searching glance in quest of the expected marvels. which he could just recollect having visited during a voyage made in his earliest youth. Well. proceeding to the disused fireplace. by the help of his chisel." Instinctively Dantes turned round to observe by what watch or clock the abbe had been able so accurately to specify the hour. who had always imagined. for that might be broken or deranged in its movements. "Oh. a long stone. by means of these lines. as worthy of digging out as the gold and diamonds in the mines of Guzerat and Golconda. I am enabled to ascertain the precise hour with more minuteness than if I possessed a watch. and the ellipse it describes round the sun." said the abbe.

These rolls consisted of slips of cloth about four inches wide and eighteen long. yes. as for the other knife." said he." "Look!" said Faria. by a piece of thread. as a Provencal. "there is the work complete. to the end of which was tied. I have torn up two of my shirts. laid one over the other. to complete the precious pages. "Ah. so legible that Dantes could easily read it. . as well as this larger knife. as well as make out the sense −− it being in Italian. and with it one could cut and thrust. a language he. my literary reputation is forever secured. and divided at the nib like an ordinary pen. then looked around to see the instrument with which it had been shaped so correctly into form. "Now let me behold the curious pens with which you have written your work. That's my masterpiece." "I see. it was pointed. I made it. perfectly understood. "the penknife. Should I ever get out of prison and find in all Italy a printer courageous enough to publish what I have composed. and as many handkerchiefs as I was master of. they were all carefully numbered and closely covered with writing. and much resembling the size of the handle of a fine painting−brush. "There." answered Dantes. it would serve a double purpose. 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." said Faria. Dantes examined it with intense admiration. I wrote the word finis at the end of the sixty−eighth strip about a week ago. like folds of papyrus.Chapter 17 191 Faria then drew forth from his hiding−place three or four rolls of linen. showing to the young man a slender stick about six inches long." The penknife was sharp and keen as a razor. one of those cartilages of which the abbe had before spoken to Dantes. out of an old iron candlestick.

"You have not seen all yet. rubbed his foot well on it . the abbe exhibited a sort of torch very similar to those used in public illuminations. that you can see to work in the dark?" "Indeed they are not. I furnished myself with a light. are your eyes like cats'." observed Dantes. "I told you how I managed to obtain that −− and I only just make it from time to time. melted it. which was readily supplied." replied Faria." continued Faria." "I separated the fat from the meat served to me. "But light?" "Here are two flints and a piece of burnt linen." "And matches?" "I pretended that I had a disorder of the skin." said Faria. "and that is how you managed to do all this by daylight?" "I worked at night also." "You did? Pray tell me how.Chapter 17 192 "As for the ink." Dantes laid the different things he had been looking at on the table. for heaven's sake." "One thing still puzzles me. as I require it. "Night! −− why. and so made oil −− here is my lamp. but God his supplied man with the intelligence that enables him to overcome the limitations of natural conditions. Let us shut this one up." They put the stone back in its place. as though overwhelmed by the perseverance and strength of Faria's mind. and stood with his head drooping on his breast. "for I did not think it wise to trust all my treasures in the same hiding−place. the abbe sprinkled a little dust over it to conceal the traces of its having been removed. and asked for a little sulphur." So saying.

no. and concealed by a stone fitting in so closely as to defy all suspicion. Behind the head of the bed. I hemmed the edges over again. and I therefore renounced the project altogether as too full of risk and danger. which. Nevertheless." While affecting to be deeply engaged in examining the ladder." said the abbe. busily occupied by the idea that a person so intelligent. and ripped out the seams in the sheets of my bed. . so that I have been able to finish my work here. "I once thought. and then. solid. with a small perforated eye for the thread. I discovered that I should merely have dropped into a sort of inner court. Dantes closely and eagerly examined it. during my three years' imprisonment at Fenestrelle. and letting myself down from the window.Chapter 17 193 to make it assume the same appearance as the other." "With what?" "With this needle. however. and which sudden chance frequently brings about." "And was it not discovered that your sheets were unhemmed?" "Oh. ingenious. as you see. was a hollow space. the mind of Dantes was. sharp fish−bone." continued Faria. he removed it from the spot it stood in. he found it firm. is somewhat wider than yours. "Who supplied you with the materials for making this wonderful work?" "I tore up several of my shirts. and compact enough to bear any weight. and in this space a ladder of cords between twenty−five and thirty feet in length. and when I was removed to the Chateau d'If. I carefully preserved my ladder against one of those unforeseen opportunities of which I spoke just now. opening his ragged vestments. and clear−sighted as the abbe might probably be able to solve the dark mystery of his own misfortunes. for when I had taken out the thread I required. going towards his bed. he showed Dantes a long. as. although I should have enlarged it still more preparatory to my flight. "of removing these iron bars. where he himself could see nothing. in fact. I managed to bring the ravellings with me. a small portion of which still remained in it.

"Well." "No." replied Dantes. has not been of sufficient length to admit of your having passed through any very important events. I would fain fix the source of it on man that I may no longer vent reproaches upon heaven. imputing the deep abstraction in which his visitor was plunged to the excess of his awe and wonder. and you are well aware that from the collision of clouds electricity is produced −− from electricity. Captivity has brought my mental faculties to a focus. "upon the enormous degree of intelligence and ability you must have employed to reach the high perfection to which you have attained." replied Dantes. did you not say so just now?" "I did!" "You have told me as yet but one of them −− let me hear the other. Compression is needed to explode gunpowder. have evaporated in a thousand follies." ." "Your life. my young friend.Chapter 17 194 "What are you thinking of?" asked the abbe smilingly." The abbe smiled." said he. you were perfectly unacquainted with mine. misfortune is needed to bring to light the treasures of the human intellect. "I know nothing. in a state of freedom." "It has been long enough to inflict on me a great and undeserved misfortune. "but you had another subject for your thoughts. You must be blessed indeed to possess the knowledge you have. the overflow of my brain would probably. "I was reflecting. Some of your words are to me quite empty of meaning. lightning. in the first place. What would you not have accomplished if you had been free?" "Possibly nothing at all. −− that while you had related to me all the particulars of your past life. illumination." "It was this. from lightning.

" "Come. vices. From this point everything was a blank to Dantes −− he knew nothing more. and two or three voyages to the Levant until he arrived at the recital of his last cruise. Now. his temporary detention at the Palais de Justice. and their nuptual feast −− his arrest and subsequent examination. and commenced what he called his history. to apply it in your case. Still. from an artificial civilization have originated wants. his interview with that personage. but which consisted only of the account of a voyage to India. and interview with his father −− his affection for Mercedes. His recital finished. which bears upon what I was saying to you some little while ago. closing his hiding−place. and pushing the bed back to its original situation. at the end of his meditations. −− my father and Mercedes. and ultimately to lead us into guilt and wickedness. −− to whom could your disappearance have been serviceable?" "To no one. then. indeed. From this view of things. and his final imprisonment in the Chateau d'If. revolts at crime." said he. "There is." .Chapter 17 195 "Then you profess ignorance of the crime with which you are charged?" "I do. which occasionally become so powerful as to stifle within us all good feelings. "let me hear your story. the abbe reflected long and earnestly. seek first to discover the person to whom the perpetration of that bad action could be in any way advantageous." Dantes obeyed. with the death of Captain Leclere. not even the length of time he had been imprisoned. human nature. a letter addressed to a Monsieur Noirtier −− his arrival at Marseilles. "a clever maxim. and that is. and his receiving." said the abbe. and false tastes. and the receipt of a packet to be delivered by himself to the grand marshal. in place of the packet brought. in a right and wholesome state. and this I swear by the two beings most dear to me upon earth. that unless wicked ideas take root in a naturally depraved mind. by heaven! I was a very insignificant person. comes the axiom that if you visit to discover the author of any bad action.

my dear young friend. and are as essential to him as the twelve millions of a king. Every one. and had even challenged him to fight me. You say you were on the point of being made captain of the Pharaon?" "Yes. and is beset by stormy passions and conflicting interests." . but he refused. I had quarelled with him some time previously. There was only one person among the crew who had any feeling of ill−will towards me. and receives his salary of twelve thousand livres.Chapter 17 196 "Do not speak thus." "And about to become the husband of a young and lovely girl?" "Yes. from the highest to the lowest degree. Now let us return to your particular world. 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. −− when the employee dies. and had the sailors possessed the right of selecting a captain themselves." "Now. What say you?" "I cannot believe such was the case. in the event of the king's death. for your reply evinces neither logic nor philosophy. from the king who stands in the way of his successor. I feel convinced their choice would have fallen on me. everything is relative. as in Descartes' theory of pressure and impulsion. Well. I was generally liked on board. Now. these twelve thousand livres are his civil list. has his place on the social ladder. And what was this man's name?" "Danglars." "Now we are getting on. so that we have a spiral which in defiance of reason rests upon the apex and not on the base. his successor inherits a crown. the supernumerary steps into his shoes. But these forces increase as we go higher. to the employee who keeps his rival out of a place.

" "And had you been captain." "Could your conversation have been overheard by any one?" "It might. "now we are on the right scent. now I recollect." "Somebody there received your packet." . was any person present during your last conversation with Captain Leclere?" "No. −− Danglars himself passed by just as Captain Leclere was giving me the packet for the grand marshal. we were quite alone. tell me." "Good again! Now then. I think?" "Yes. and gave you a letter in place of it. for I had frequently observed inaccuracies in his accounts.Chapter 17 197 "What rank did he hold on board?" "He was supercargo. the grand marshal did." cried the abbe." "That's better. should you have retained him in his employment?" "Not if the choice had remained with me. Did you take anybody with you when you put into the port of Elba?" "Nobody." "And what did you do with that letter?" "Put it into my portfolio. for the cabin door was open −− and −− stay.

how could a sailor find room in his pocket for a portfolio large enough to contain an official letter?" "You are right. everybody could see that you held a letter in your hand?" "Yes. then said." Dantes paused a moment. mate on board the Pharaon. it was left on board. that one Edmond Dantes. I read it over three times. "This is it." "And what did you do with this same letter while returning from Porto−Ferrajo to the vessel?" "I carried it in my hand." "So that when you went on board the Pharaon. Do you recollect the words in which the information against you was formulated?" "Oh yes. as well as the rest?" "Danglars." "Then it was not till your return to the ship that you put the letter in the portfolio?" "No. then? Now." "Danglars. word for word: `The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and religion. as well as others. after .Chapter 17 198 "You had your portfolio with you." "Now. listen to me. and the words sank deeply into my memory. this day arrived from Smyrna. and try to recall every circumstance attending your arrest." "Repeat it to me.

" "How did Danglars usually write?" "In a handsome.'" The abbe shrugged his shoulders." Again the abbe smiled. not to have suspected the origin of the whole affair. after dipping it into the ink. "Why your writing exactly resembles that of the accusation. "Disguised. that would indeed be infamous. if disguised." . as the letter will be found either about his person. at his father's residence." "It was very boldly written. with a letter for the Bonapartist Club in Paris. Dantes drew back. running hand. and gazed on the abbe with a sensation almost amounting to terror. "The thing is clear as day. by the usurper. that performed with the left hand is invariably uniform. "How very astonishing!" cried he at length." said he." "Stop a bit." "Simply because that accusation had been written with the left hand. with his left hand. has been intrusted by Murat with a packet for the usurper. taking up what he called his pen. again. or in his cabin on board the Pharaon. he wrote on a piece of prepared linen.Chapter 17 199 having touched at Naples and Porto−Ferrajo." "And how was the anonymous letter written?" "Backhanded." "Do you really think so? Ah. the first two or three words of the accusation." said the abbe. as well as a good heart. This proof of his guilt may be procured by his immediate arrest. and. and I have noticed that" −− "What?" "That while the writing of different persons done with the right hand varies. "and you must have had a very confiding nature.

yes." "You had never spoken of them yourself to any one?" . no. I think?" "He was a Catalan. never.Chapter 17 200 "You have evidently seen and observed everything." "That is a Spanish name." "I am listening." "You imagine him capable of writing the letter?" "Oh." "Let us proceed." "That is in strict accordance with the Spanish character." "And his name was" −− "Fernand. a young man who loved her. yes!" "Now as regards the second question." said Dantes. "the various circumstances mentioned in the letter were wholly unknown to him." "Was there any person whose interest it was to prevent your marriage with Mercedes?" "Yes." "Besides. he would more likely have got rid of me by sticking a knife into me. but an act of cowardice." "Oh. an assassination they will unhesitatingly commit.

" replied Dantes eagerly. "Is there anything else I can assist you in discovering. yes. and paper. he was. was Danglars acquainted with Fernand?" "No −− yes. but he was very drunk. he was a tailor named Caderousse. Pray. Danglars was joking in a friendly way." "Were they alone?" "There was a third person with them whom I knew perfectly well. in all probability made their acquaintance. not even to my betrothed." "I feel quite sure of it now. "I would beg of you." "Not even to your mistress?" "No. that on the table round which they were sitting were pens. pressing his hand to his throbbing brows. Stay! −− stay! −− How strange that it should not have occurred to me before! Now I remember quite well. 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.Chapter 17 201 "To no one." "Then it is Danglars." "Wait a little. ink. Oh. and to whom the greatest mystery seems . "Yes. the heartless. who see so completely to the depths of things. but Fernand looked pale and agitated. treacherous scoundrels!" exclaimed Dantes. and who had. besides the villany of your friends?" inquired the abbe with a laugh. They were in earnest conversation.

for. to explain to me how it was that I underwent no second examination. "The ways of justice are frequently too dark and mysterious to be easily penetrated. above all." responded the abbe." "In the first place." answered the abbe.Chapter 17 202 but an easy riddle. was condemned without ever having had sentence passed on me?" "That is altogether a different and more serious matter. but too young to be corrupt." "Pray ask me whatever questions you please. you see more clearly into my life than I do myself. was never brought to trial." ." "Did you tell him your whole story?" "I did. I should say. then." "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. or a magistrate?" "The deputy. −− the king's attorney." "Was he young or old?" "About six or seven and twenty years of age. and. "Old enough to be ambitions." "So. If you wish me to enter upon the more difficult part of the business. in good truth. He seemed quite overcome by my misfortune. you must assist me by the most minute information on every point. All we have hitherto done in the matter has been child's play. who examined you. And how did he treat you?" "With more of mildness than severity. his deputy.

" "Upon my word. the letter. after all. Is the world filled with tigers and crocodiles?" "Yes." "What? the accusation?" "No. This man might. at any rate." "That alters the case." "Are you sure?" "I saw it done." said Dantes. be a greater scoundrel than you have thought possible.Chapter 17 203 "By your misfortune?" "Yes." "With all my heart! You tell me he burned the letter?" "He did. saying at the same time.'" . `You see I thus destroy the only proof existing against you." "Never mind. "you make me shudder." "And that?" "He burnt the sole evidence that could at all have criminated me. let us go on. and remember that two−legged tigers and crocodiles are more dangerous than the others." "Then you feel quite sure that it was your misfortune he deplored?" "He gave me one great proof of his sympathy.

for he made me promise several times never to speak of that letter to any one." "Now can you conceive of any interest that your heroic deputy could possibly have had in the destruction of that letter?" "Why. the whole thing is more clear to me than that sunbeam is to you. more than this. Poor fellow! poor young man! And you tell me this magistrate expressed great sympathy and commiseration for you?" "He did. who had been a Girondin during the Revolution! What was your deputy called?" "De Villefort!" The abbe burst into a fit of laughter. while Dantes gazed on him in utter astonishment." "You think so?" "I am sure of it. 13 Coq−Heron. No. To whom was this letter addressed?" "To M. "Do you see that ray of sunlight?" "I do. "Noirtier! −− I knew a person of that name at the court of the Queen of Etruria." "And the worthy man destroyed your compromising letter?" ." "Noirtier!" repeated the abbe. −− a Noirtier. Paris. "What ails you?" said he at length. he insisted on my taking a solemn oath never to utter the name mentioned in the address. Noirtier. it is not altogether impossible he might have had. assuring me he so advised me for my own interest.Chapter 17 204 "This action is somewhat too sublime to be natural." "Well. and.

who. and staggered against the wall like a drunken man. you poor short−sighted simpleton. where the turnkey found him in the evening visit. "his right name was Noirtier de Villefort. can you not guess who this Noirtier was. sitting with fixed gaze and contracted features. "His father! his father!" "Yes. The change that had come over Villefort during the examination. he had formed a fearful resolution. and bound himself to its fulfilment by a solemn oath. had come to invite his fellow−sufferer . he could not have been more completely transfixed with horror than he was at the sound of these unexpected words. which to him had seemed only minutes. he threw himself on his bed. he clasped his hands around his head as though to prevent his very brain from bursting. Starting up.Chapter 17 205 "Yes." replied the abbe. −− all returned with a stunning force to his memory." "Why. having also been visited by his jailer. then he hurried to the opening that led from the abbe's cell to his own." At this instant a bright light shot through the mind of Dantes." Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of Dantes. Dantes was at length roused from his revery by the voice of Faria. and exclaimed. During these hours of profound meditation. his father. and said. who seemed rather to implore mercy than to pronounce punishment. "I must be alone. the almost supplicating tones of the magistrate. whose very name he was so careful to keep concealed? Noirtier was his father. to think over all this. or hell opened its yawning gulf before him. He cried out." "And then made you swear never to utter the name of Noirtier?" "Yes. the exacted promise. dumb and motionless as a statue. the destruction of the letter. and cleared up all that had been dark and obscure before." When he regained his dungeon.

and the abbe had come to ask his young companion to share the luxuries with him. whiter quality than the usual prison fare. where he was so much at home. his features were no longer contracted. but in accordance with Dantes' request. Dantes followed." "Why so?" inquired Dantes. some of his remarks corresponded with what he already knew. but. though harmlessly and even amusingly so. "You must teach me a small part of what you know. but it was never egotistical. like that of all who have experienced many trials. Now this was a Sunday. then mournfully shook his head. but there was that in his whole appearance that bespoke one who had come to a fixed and desperate resolve. 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." said he. Again the abbe looked at him. "having helped you in your late inquiries. or applied to the sort of knowledge his nautical life had enabled him to acquire. he began to speak of other matters. He was supplied with bread of a finer. for the unfortunate man never alluded to his own sorrows. were wholly incomprehensible to him. Faria bent on him his penetrating eye: "I regret now. "if only to prevent your growing weary of me. I can well believe that so learned a . "Let us talk of something else. "Because it has instilled a new passion in your heart −− that of vengeance." said he. or having given you the information I did. A part of the good abbe's words. The elder prisoner was one of those persons whose conversation. however. Dantes listened with admiring attention to all he said.Chapter 17 206 to share his supper. like the aurora which guides the navigator in northern latitudes." Dantes smiled. had procured for the abbe unusual privileges. and even regaled each Sunday with a small quantity of wine. and now wore their usual expression. and gave fantastic glimpses of new horizons. The reputation of being out of his mind. contained many useful and important hints as well as sound information." said Dantes. opened new vistas to the inquiring mind of the listener.

And that very evening the prisoners sketched a plan of education." said Dantes. but their principles you may. and when I have taught you mathematics. He already knew Italian." "Well. I want to learn. and German. and by the aid of these two languages he easily comprehended the construction of all the others. "do you really believe I can acquire all these things in so short a time?" "Not their application. my boy. "human knowledge is confined within very narrow limits. so that at the end of six months he began to speak Spanish." said he. it is the application of the sciences to truth. and had also picked up a little of the Romaic dialect during voyages to the East. physics. then. . Memory makes the one. I promise you never to mention another word about escaping. certainly. In strict accordance with the promise made to the abbe. you will know as much as I do myself. Now." "Everything." "But cannot one learn philosophy?" "Philosophy cannot be taught.Chapter 17 207 person as yourself would prefer absolute solitude to being tormented with the company of one as ignorant and uninformed as myself. If you will only agree to my request. English. "What shall you teach me first? I am in a hurry to begin. to be entered upon the following day. history." The abbe smiled. "Alas. it will scarcely require two years for me to communicate to you the stock of learning I possess. Dantes possessed a prodigious memory. while his naturally poetical feelings threw a light and pleasing veil over the dry reality of arithmetical computation. it is like the golden cloud in which the Messiah went up into heaven. to learn is not to know. the mathematical turn of his mind rendered him apt at all kinds of calculation. and the three or four modern languages with which I am acquainted. combined with an astonishing quickness and readiness of conception." "Two years!" exclaimed Dantes. there are the learners and the learned." said the abbe. philosophy the other. or the rigid severity of geometry.

"that I loathe the idea of shedding blood. if there were no sentinel!" "There shall not be one a minute longer than you please. one thought seemed incessantly to harass and distract his mind. if you choose to call it so. that Faria. alas!" cried the abbe." "No matter! I could never agree to it. 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. then suddenly rise. Sometimes he would fall into long reveries. and. begin pacing the confined space of his dungeon. and exclaimed. would be simply a measure of self−preservation." replied the young man. in spite of the relief his society afforded. however.Chapter 17 208 Dantes spoke no more of escape. you have thought of it?" "Incessantly. "Ah." said Dantes. One day he stopped all at once. At the end of a year Dantes was a new man. Perhaps the delight his studies afforded him left no room for such thoughts. Days. even months. have you not?" asked Dantes eagerly. with folded arms. "And you have discovered a means of regaining our freedom. sigh heavily and involuntarily. Dantes observed. with an air of determination that made his companion shudder. if it were only possible to place a deaf and blind sentinel in the gallery beyond us." "Still." "He shall be both blind and deaf. passed by unheeded in one rapid and instructive course. . daily grew sadder. perhaps the recollection that he had pledged his word (on which his sense of honor was keen) kept him from referring in any way to the possibilities of flight." "And yet the murder. "I have. "I have already told you." answered the abbe.

" cried the abbe. let me show you my plan. bent it into the form of a horseshoe. and you are about the best specimen of the genus I have ever known.Chapter 17 209 "No." "And shall we begin at once?" "At once." said the abbe. Three months passed away. Come. The young man. "Forgive me!" cried Edmond." "And how long shall we be in accomplishing the necessary work?" "At least a year." The abbe then showed Dantes the sketch he had made for their escape. "man is but man after all. "impossible!" Dantes endeavored to renew the subject. except as a last resort?" "I promise on my honor. In this passage he proposed to drive a level as they do in mines. and refused to make any further response. the abbe shook his head in token of disapproval. blushing deeply. in reply." "Then. "Tut. with the passage which united them. took up the chisel. "Do you consider the last twelve months to have been wasted?" asked the abbe. It consisted of a plan of his own cell and that of Dantes. "Are you strong?" the abbe asked one day of Dantes. and then as readily straightened it. "we may hope to put our design into execution. this level would bring the two prisoners immediately . "And will you engage not to do any harm to the sentry." "We have lost a year to no purpose!" cried Dantes. no. tut!" answered the abbe.

That very day the miners began their labors. 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. The prisoners were then to make their way through one of the gallery windows. Dantes' eyes sparkled with joy. mixed in the first society of the day. The abbe was a man of the world. by degrees and with the utmost precaution. 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. would be immediately bound and gagged by Dantes before he had power to offer any resistance. with a vigor and alacrity proportionate to their long rest from fatigue and their hopes of ultimate success. and to let themselves down from the outer walls by means of the abbe's ladder of cords. who. and a wooden lever. once there. was thrown. sometimes in one language. as well as that outward polish and politeness he had before been wanting in. The fresh earth excavated during their present work. moreover. yet apparently so certain to succeed. sometimes in another. the only tools for which had been a chisel. and he rubbed his hands with delight at the idea of a plan so simple. a large excavation would be made. thanks to the imitative powers bestowed on him by nature. More than a year had been consumed in this undertaking. Faria still continuing to instruct Dantes by conversing with him. stunned by his fall. At the end of fifteen months the level was finished. and which would have entirely blocked up the old passage. and happily. at others. easily acquired. out of the window in either Faria's or Dantes' cell. a knife. and had. the rubbish being first pulverized so finely that the night wind carried it far away without permitting the smallest trace to remain. he wore an air of melancholy dignity which Dantes. Nothing interrupted the progress of the work except the necessity that each was under of returning to his cell in anticipation of the turnkey's visits. They had learned to distinguish the almost imperceptible sound of his footsteps as he descended towards their dungeons.Chapter 17 210 beneath the gallery where the sentry kept watch. and the excavation completed . never failed of being prepared for his coming. and which is seldom possessed except by those who have been placed in constant intercourse with persons of high birth and breeding.

who had remained in Edmond's cell for the purpose of cutting a peg to secure their rope−ladder." faltered out the abbe. while his lips were white as those of a corpse. where he found him standing in the middle of the room. "listen to what I have to say. This malady admits but of one remedy. whose eyes. were surrounded by purple circles. they were obliged to defer their final attempt till that auspicious moment should arrive. and the two workmen could distinctly hear the measured tread of the sentinel as he paced to and fro over their heads. no! −− I may be found here. I can feel that the paroxysm is fast approaching. draw out one of the feet that support the bed. Compelled. I will tell you what that is. his forehead streaming with perspiration. Dantes hastened to his dungeon. Dantes was occupied in arranging this piece of wood when he heard Faria. and his hands clinched tightly together. Bring it to me −− or rather −− no. what ails you?" cried Dantes. already dull and sunken. Who knows what . "Alas. 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.Chapter 17 211 beneath the gallery. Go into my cell as quickly as you can. I am seized with a terrible. "Gracious heavens!" exclaimed Dantes. their greatest dread now was lest the stone through which the sentry was doomed to fall should give way before its right time. and his very hair seemed to stand on end. pale as death. and this they had in some measure provided against by propping it up with a small beam which they had discovered in the walls through which they had worked their way. I beseech you. I had a similar attack the year previous to my imprisonment. as they were." Dantes looked in fear and wonder at the livid countenance of Faria. call to him in a tone indicative of great suffering. letting his chisel fall to the floor. "Tell me. perhaps mortal illness. therefore help me back to my room while I have the strength to drag myself along. to await a night sufficiently dark to favor their flight. "what is the matter? what has happened?" "Quick! quick!" returned the abbe. "all is over with me.

when he immediately laid the sufferer on his bed. Take care my cries are not heard. and cry out loudly. dashed himself about. −− force open my teeth with the knife. his eyes started from their sockets. On the other hand. his cheeks became purple. Dantes prevented from being heard by covering his head with the blanket. . or how long the attack may last?" In spite of the magnitude of the misfortune which thus suddenly frustrated his hopes. but descended into the passage. and became as rigid as a corpse. and we be separated forever. cold. and not before. uttering neither sigh nor groan. more helpless than an infant. and cause me to fall into fearful convulsions. for if they are it is more than probable I should be removed to another part of the prison. then. foam at the mouth. and I may perhaps revive. "Thanks. Dantes did not lose his presence of mind. and uttered the most dreadful cries. dragging his unfortunate companion with him. Edmond waited till life seemed extinct in the body of his friend. When I become quite motionless. foamed. he struggled. doubled up in one last convulsion. he managed to reach the abbe's chamber. −− be careful about this. half−carrying. and rigid as a corpse. the symptoms may be much more violent. then. "I am about to be seized with a fit of catalepsy.Chapter 17 212 may happen. then." "Perhaps!" exclaimed Dantes in grief−stricken tones. he with difficulty forced open the closely fixed jaws. more crushed and broken than a reed trampled under foot. pour from eight to ten drops of the liquor contained in the phial down my throat. he fell back. "I −− I −− die −− I" −− So sudden and violent was the fit that the unfortunate prisoner was unable to complete the sentence. then. and colder and paler than marble. "Help! help!" cried the abbe. The fit lasted two hours. however. when it comes to its height I shall probably lie still and motionless as though dead. half−supporting him. a violent convulsion shook his whole frame. which. his mouth was drawn on one side. shivering as though his veins were filled with ice." said the poor abbe. taking up the knife.

"Did you fancy yourself dying?" "No. but. I had no such idea. At length a slight color tinged the livid cheeks. to Dantes. but Edmond's anxiety had put all thoughts of time out of his head. I thought you might have made your escape.Chapter 17 213 carefully administered the appointed number of drops. whose restless anxiety concerning his friend left him no desire to touch the food brought him. but he still lay helpless and exhausted. An hour passed away and the old man gave no sign of returning animation. and the sufferer made a feeble effort to move." The deep glow of indignation suffused the cheeks of Dantes. "I did not expect to see you again. and anxiously awaited the result. was soon beside the sick man's couch. Dantes began to fear he had delayed too long ere he administered the remedy. knowing that all was ready for flight. The young man sprang to the entrance. Almost before the key had turned in the lock. and. continued gazing on the lifeless features of his friend. and hurried to his cell. and the jailer saw the prisoner seated as usual on the side of his bed. The sick man was not yet able to speak. and before the departing steps of the jailer had died away in the long corridor he had to traverse. open eyeballs. consciousness returned to the dull. He had scarcely done so before the door opened. "He is saved! he is saved!" cried Dantes in a paroxysm of delight. "And why not?" asked the young man. thrusting his hands into his hair. darted through it. and raising the stone by pressing his head against it. hurried back to the abbe's chamber. carefully drawing the stone over the opening. and plainly distinguished the approaching steps of the jailer." said he feebly. Faria had now fully regained his consciousness. It was therefore near seven o'clock. Dantes listened. a faint sigh issued from the lips. but he pointed with evident anxiety towards the door. "Without you? Did you really think me capable of that?" . Dantes.

if need be. Alas. Edmond. The abbe shook his head. indeed." "My good Edmond. "be not deceived. and judge if I am mistaken. because we shall be able to command every requisite assistance. "The last attack I had. The attack which has just passed away. condemns me forever to the walls of a prison." The young man raised the arm. −− a week. "I now see how wrong such an opinion would have been. None can fly from a dungeon who cannot walk." "Well. "your strength will return. "This arm is paralyzed. As soon as you feel able to swim we will go. and got up without help. and took his hands. which fell back by its own weight." "I shall never swim again. Lift it. alas! I am fearfully exhausted and debilitated by this attack. We shall save you another time." cried Dantes. or leave me paralyzed for life. and after it I was hungry." "Be of good cheer." said he. two months." replied Dantes. as we have done this. you should have another) will find you at liberty. "lasted but half an hour. Since the first attack I experienced of this . now I can move neither my right arm nor leg.Chapter 17 214 "At least. and my head seems uncomfortable. "You are convinced now. a month. I know what I say. not for a time. and we can select any time we choose. "Depend upon it. we will wait. perfectly inanimate and helpless." "No. no. are you not?" asked the abbe." said the abbe." replied Faria. which shows that there has been a suffusion of blood on the brain." answered the abbe. −− and meanwhile your strength will return." And as he spoke he seated himself near the bed beside Faria. Everything is in readiness for our flight. but forever. The third attack will either carry me off. A sigh escaped him. "you are mistaken −− you will not die! And your third attack (if. only with a better chance of success.

hear the hollow sound of his footsteps. extending one hand. quit this place. You may one of these days reap the reward of your disinterested devotion. "you. and he predicted a similar end for me. and call the attention of his officer to the circumstance. was no other than the celebrated Cabanis. to allow yourself to be duped by vain hopes. but fly −− go−I give you back your promise. Cease. he might." "My son. "Thanks. who are a sailor and a swimmer. keep at it all night." Faria gazed fondly on his noble−minded. unhappily. for it is a family inheritance. and you will not. must know as well as I do that a man so loaded would sink before he had done fifty strokes." murmured the invalid. I expected it. But as I cannot." "The physician may be mistaken!" exclaimed Dantes. and that. and do not return here to−morrow till after the jailer his visited me." "It is well." Then. and read in his countenance ample confirmation of the sincerity of his devotion and the loyalty of his purpose.Chapter 17 215 malady. I can offer you no assistance. The physician who prepared for me the remedy I have twice successfully taken. single−hearted. what difference will that make? I can take you on my shoulders. Here I shall remain till the hour of my deliverance arrives. "I accept. high−principled young friend. both my father and grandfather died of it in a third attack. will be the hour of my death. rising and extending his hand with an air of solemnity over the old man's head. delay not on my account. Indeed. by chance. and set about this work. I shall . "By the blood of Christ I swear never to leave you while you live. As for you. "And as for your poor arm. that even your own excellent heart refuses to believe in. it becomes necessary to fill up the excavation beneath the soldier's gallery." said the abbe. Go. I have continually reflected on it. and swim for both of us. if necessary. "Then I shall also remain." said Dantes. then. then. in which. That would bring about a discovery which would inevitably lead to our being separated. in all human probability. he slowly added. who are young and active.

Chapter 18 The Treasure. in the spirit of obedience and respect which he had sworn to show towards his aged friend." Dantes took the hand of the abbe in his. "What is that?" he inquired. which. and was not easily kept open. it will be recollected. since I have the proof of your fidelity −− this paper is my treasure. he found Faria seated and looking composed. from this day forth. When Dantes returned next morning to the chamber of his companion in captivity. He did not speak. With his instinctive delicacy . "Look at it. and the young man retired to his task." "This paper. he held open in his left hand." said Dantes. a sheet of paper. Faria smiled encouragingly on him. Until this day and for how long a time! −− he had refrained from talking of the treasure. my friend. In the ray of light which entered by the narrow window of his cell. one−half belongs to you. and affectionately pressed it. of which alone. "I may now avow to you. but showed the paper to Dantes." The sweat started forth on Dantes brow. had the form of a cylinder.Chapter 18 216 have something of the greatest importance to communicate to you. of which. which had brought upon the abbe the accusation of madness. he retained the use. "I have looked at it with all possible attention." said Faria. "and I only see a half−burnt paper." said the abbe with a smile. from being constantly rolled into a small compass. on which are traces of Gothic characters inscribed with a peculiar kind of ink.

I will hear your narrative. −− now that I think of all that may result to you in the good fortune of such a disclosure. which I have never shown to any one. and I tasted it slowly in the night of my dungeon and the despair of my captivity. Dantes. indeed. Yes −− you. had you not better repose awhile? To−morrow. the third attack may not come on? and then must not all be over? Yes. He had taken the silence of the old man for a return to reason. be assured. you will. I see you require proofs. This idea was one of vengeance to me. "Yes. but you. or the next day after. "a treasure is not a thing we need hurry about." "Alas. it is a matter of the utmost importance." said he. No one would listen or believe me. after so painful a crisis. which would make the wealth of a dozen families. because everyone thought me mad. No." murmured Edmond to himself. and Faria had been equally silent. will be forever lost to those men who persecute me." "On the contrary. listen to me. a noble nature. read this paper. seemed to indicate a serious relapse into mental alienation. Faria smiled. I have often thought with a bitter joy that these riches. and if I have not been allowed to possess it. Well." Then he said aloud. your attack has. and tremble lest I should not assure to one as worthy as yourself the possession of so vast an amount of hidden wealth." continued Faria. "My words have not convinced you. "Who knows if to−morrow. who must know that I am not. fatigued you. and now these few words uttered by Faria. Edmond. I am not mad." Edmond turned away his head with a sigh. perhaps. I shudder at any delay. "You have. "this is a terrible relapse! There was only this blow wanting. Edmond!" replied the old man. "You persist in your incredulity.Chapter 18 217 Edmond had preferred avoiding any touch on this painful chord. "Your treasure?" stammered Dantes. if you will. but to−day I wish to nurse you carefully. then. This treasure exists. and believe me so afterwards if you will. young and with a promising future. Besides." . "My dear friend. But now I have forgiven the world for the love of you." he said. Edmond. indeed. now that I see you. and I see by your paleness and agitation what is passing in your heart at this moment.

. "I see nothing but broken lines and unconnected words." thought Edmond." "And do you believe you have discovered the hidden meaning?" "I am sure I have. to you. l49" "Well!" said Faria.. my dear friend. −− having been burnt. . of the second opening wh..Chapter 18 218 "To−morrow.. of Roman crowns in the most distant a. completed every thought. which may amount to two. but first listen to the history of this paper. desirous of not yielding to the old man's madness. glided like a snake along the narrow passage. my friend. while Faria.. who read them for the first time. "Why. of which half was wanting.. but read this paper to−day." "Yes. when the young man had finished reading it. which are rendered illegible by fire." And Dantes. but not for me. happy to escape the history and explanation which would be sure to confirm his belief in his friend's mental instability. pushed the stone into place with his foot. "25th April." "I will not irritate him. and covered it with a mat in order the more effectually to avoid discovery. and you shall judge for yourself. declare to belong to him alo. restored by his alarm to a certain amount of activity." "Silence!" exclaimed Dantes." said Edmond. −− he read: −− "This treasure. heir.." "Then we will not talk of it until to−morrow. and have reconstructed every phrase. "Steps approach −− I go −− adieu. who have grown pale over them by many nights' study." replied Dantes.. and taking the paper. "I thought it was understood that we should not talk of that until to−morrow. by some accident. no doubt.

that he could not understand how so much wisdom on all points could be allied with madness. for whom in his heart he felt a kind of affection. had been on all points so rational and logical." he said with a benignant smile." Edmond saw there was no escape. pursuing you remorselessly. so wonderfully sagacious. and placing the old man on his bed. since their first acquaintance. "Here I am. Faria. But fortunately this was not the case. convinced that the poor madman. or was all the world deceived as to Faria? Dantes remained in his cell all day. who. his leg was inert. Edmond. might order him to be removed to better quarters. Was Faria deceived as to his treasure.Chapter 18 219 It was the governor. Edmond shuddered when he heard the painful efforts which the old man made to drag himself along. tried to move and get over the distance which separated them. avoiding all gestures in order that he might conceal from the governor the paralysis that had already half stricken him with death. Faria sat up to receive him. Edmond was obliged to assist him. was only troubled with a slight indisposition. touched with pity. . but it is in vain. towards the evening after the hour for the customary visit had gone by. Listen to me. that the abbe was mad −− such a conviction would be so terrible! But. not seeing the young man appear. he seated himself on the stool beside him. in fact. hearing of Faria's illness from the jailer. His fear was lest the governor. tried to collect his scattered thoughts. thinking thus to defer the moment when he should be convinced. Faria. not daring to return to his friend. seated on his bed with his head in his hands. "You thought to escape my munificence. for otherwise he would not have been able to enter by the small aperture which led to Dantes' chamber. had come in person to see him. and he could no longer make use of one arm. once for all. and the governor left him. During this time. and thus separate him from his young companion.

and it was necessary. One day when I was reproaching him for his unavailing searches. his palace was my paradise. that Rospigliosi and Spada paid for being cardinals. who was formidable still in spite of his recent reverses. The pope had also need of money to bring matters to an end with Louis XII. Caesar Borgia. who are dead. and I heard the phrase very often. although the wealth of his family had passed into a proverb. in the twentieth chapter of the Life of Pope Alexander VI. smiling bitterly.Chapter 18 220 "You know. He was not rich. and when he was alone in the world. "that I was the secretary and intimate friend of Cardinal Spada. to make up to him all he had done for me during ten years of unremitting kindness. which was a matter of great difficulty in the impoverished condition of exhausted Italy. and then he had the two hats to sell besides. There. King of France. especially rich men −− this was the return the holy father looked for. one of the noblest and richest of the Roman nobility. The cardinal's house had no secrets for me. They were ambitious. There was a third point in view. `As rich as a Spada. which will appear hereafter. I had often seen my noble patron annotating ancient volumes. he looked at me." said the abbe. and eight other persons paid for the offices . to have recourse to some profitable scheme. which I can never forget: −− "`The great wars of Romagna had ended. therefore. I tried by absolute devotion to his will. he could sell the great appointments and splendid offices which the cardinals already held. who held four of the highest dignities of the Holy See. and eagerly searching amongst dusty family manuscripts. lived on this reputation for wealth. and. I owe to this worthy lord all the happiness I ever knew. In the first place. opened a volume relating to the History of the City of Rome.' But he. the last of the princes of that name. and Caesar Borgia soon found purchasers for their appointments. like public rumor.' "By choosing two of the greatest personages of Rome. His holiness had an idea. The pope and Caesar Borgia first found the two future cardinals. who had completed his conquest. He determined to make two cardinals. I was tutor to his nephews. were the following lines.. and deploring the prostration of mind that followed them. they were Giovanni Rospigliosi. had need of money to purchase all Italy. both felt the high honor of such a favor from the pope. and Caesar Spada. The result was.

which Caesar wore when he wanted to greet his friends with a clasp of the hand. a charming retreat which the cardinals knew very well by report. and induced them to arrange their affairs and take up their residence at Rome. took paper and pen. that they should either ask the cardinals to open the cupboard. The pope heaped attentions upon Rospigliosi and Spada. or shake hands with them. and greatly attached to his only nephew. This was a matter of dispute between the holy father and his son. and the cardinals were consequently invited to dinner. near San Pierdarena. that is to say. Then there was the ring with the lion's head. a young captain of the highest promise. but it appeared the servant did not find him. "The table was laid in a vineyard belonging to the pope. Rospigliosi. −− a negligence on the part of the locksmith. an indigestion declares itself immediately. "It is time now to proceed to the last part of the speculation. the famous key which was given to certain persons with the request that they go and open a designated cupboard. and at the end of twenty−four hours. you forget. quite set up with his new dignities. in the first place. Caesar. a prudent man. of which the lock was difficult. This key was furnished with a small iron point. Spada and Rospigliosi. but Alexander VI. conferred upon them the insignia of the cardinalate. Caesar thought they could make use of one of the means which he always had ready for his friends. He then sent word to his nephew to wait for him near the vineyard. When this was pressed to effect the opening of the cupboard. and died next day. went with a good appetite and his most ingratiating manner. The lion bit the hand thus favored. let us ask both of them to dinner. Then the pope and Caesar Borgia invited the two cardinals to dinner. and made his will. Besides. something tells me that we shall get that money back. and thus eight hundred thousand crowns entered into the coffers of the speculators. the bite was mortal.' Caesar gave way before such cogent reasoning. the person was pricked by this small point.. . Caesar proposed to his father. Spada. replied: `Now as to the worthy cardinals. while a prick or a bite occasions a delay of a day or two.Chapter 18 221 the cardinals held before their elevation.

under presence of seeking for the papers of the dead man. "Then Caesar and the pope hastened to lay hands on the heritage. as Caesar looked at him with an ironical air. which proved that he had anticipated all. a scrap of paper on which Spada had written: −− `I bequeath to my beloved nephew my coffers. in full costume. and that the snare was well spread. not exceeding a few thousand crowns in plate. but found nothing. The first sight that attracted the eyes of Spada was that of his nephew. But the inheritance consisted in this only. so eminently civilizing. which he was pressed to taste. `His holiness requests you to dine with him. and were greatly astonished that Spada. An hour afterwards a physician declared they were both poisoned through eating mushrooms. perfectly comprehending the meaning of the question. the rich man.' "The heirs sought everywhere. Spada died on the threshold of the vineyard. They began dinner and Spada was only able to inquire of his nephew if he had received his message. amongst others. The nephew replied no. placed for him expressly by the pope's butler. and about the same in ready money. since Christianity.' "Spada set out about two o'clock to San Pierdarena.Chapter 18 222 "Spada knew what these invitations meant. my books. it was no longer a centurion who came from the tyrant with a message. laid hands on the furniture. That was all. who came with a smile on his lips to say from the pope. and Caesar Borgia paying him most marked attentions. for he had already drunk a glass of excellent wine. The pope awaited him. had made progress in Rome. was really the most miserable of uncles −− no treasures −− unless they were those of science. admired the breviary. making signs which his wife could not comprehend. It was too late. examined. scrutinized. there is a will. Caesar and his father searched. my breviary with the gold corners. the nephew expired at his own door.' . which I beg he will preserve in remembrance of his affectionate uncle. but the nephew had time to say to his wife before he expired: `Look well among my uncle's papers. contained in the library and laboratories. Spada at the same moment saw another bottle approach him.' but it was a legate a latere. `Caesar wills that you die. or at least very little. and. Spada turned pale.

and the public rumor was. but in these days landed property had not much value. Years rolled on. and the two palaces and the vineyard remained to the family since they were beneath the rapacity of the pope and his son. he went and got himself obscurely killed in a night skirmish. compelled to quit Rome. but this was not the case. but the new skin was spotted by the poison till it looked like a tiger's. who had not taken any precaution. died. There were two palaces and a vineyard behind the Palatine Hill. He did so. some churchmen. I beg of you. −− you know by what mistake. I had often heard him complain of the disproportion of his rank with his fortune. a mystery hung over this dark affair. The celebrated breviary remained in the family. my friend. no doubt. eh?" "Oh. some bankers. and was in the count's possession. I come now to the last of the family. escaped by shedding his skin like a snake." "The family began to get accustomed to their obscurity. had caused it to be regarded as a genuine relic. interrupting the thread of his narrative." said Faria. and some were ruined. others diplomatists. poisoned. whose secretary I was −− the Count of Spada. Alexander VI. scarcely noticed in history. and amongst the descendants some were soldiers. "Up to this point. and I advised him to invest all he had in an annuity. poisoned at the same time.Chapter 18 223 "They sought even more thoroughly than the august heirs had done. but it was fruitless. a better politician than his father. "on the contrary. The Spadas remained in doubtful ease. that Caesar." cried Dantes. it was supposed that the Spada family would resume the splendid position they had held before the cardinal's time. I say the two. "this seems to you very meaningless. preserved in the family with . Months and years rolled on. Then. Caesar. it seems as if I were reading a most interesting narrative. It had been handed down from father to son. for the singular clause of the only will that had been found. go on." "I will. was completely despoiled. After the pope's death and his son's exile. had carried off from the pope the fortune of the two cardinals. because Cardinal Rospigliosi. and thus doubled his income. some grew rich.

I searched. for the sole purpose of assuring myself whether any increase of fortune had occurred to them on the death of the Cardinal Caesar Spada. "I was then almost assured that the inheritance had neither profited the Borgias nor the family. calculated a thousand and a thousand times the income and expenditure of the family for three hundred years. and the famous breviary. tired with my constant labor at the same thing. on condition that I would have anniversary masses said for the repose of his soul. I had even written a precise history of the Borgia family. "At the sight of papers of all sorts. "In 1807. and a fortnight after the death of the Count of Spada. on the 25th of December (you will see presently how the date became fixed in my memory). and the Count of Spada in his poverty. It was an illuminated book. but in spite of the most exhaustive researches. which slept in the bosom of the earth under the eyes of the genie. his library. my dear Edmond. contracts. but could only trace the acquisition of the property of the Cardinal Rospigliosi. secretaries before me. ransacked. my library. but had remained unpossessed like the treasures of the Arabian Nights. parchments. My patron died. a month before I was arrested. with beautiful Gothic characters. Yet I had read. like twenty servitors. I in my turn examined the immense bundles of documents. All these he bequeathed to me. and overcome by a heavy dinner I had eaten.Chapter 18 224 superstitious veneration. I found −− nothing. −− titles. and his famous breviary. and that I would draw up a genealogical tree and history of his house. intending to take with me twelve thousand francs I possessed. that a servant always carried it before the cardinal on days of great solemnity. and I fell asleep . for the palace was sold to a stranger. stewards. counted. which were kept in the archives of the family. All this I did scrupulously. which he had in ready money. composed of five thousand volumes. we are near the conclusion. the papers I was arranging. Be easy. and I was going to leave Rome and settle at Florence. all descending from the poisoned cardinal. It was useless. He had reserved from his annuity his family papers. my head dropped on my hands. when. I was reading. I remained in my ignorance. with a thousand Roman crowns. and so weighty with gold. for the thousandth time. his companion in misfortune.

I rang for a light. nearly one−third of the paper had been consumed by the flame.. that these characters had been traced in mysterious and sympathetic ink. may amount to nearly two mil.. that I alone. It was indeed but anticipating the simple manners which I should soon be under the necessity of adopting.... traced with an ink of a reddish color resembling rust: −− "This 25th day of April. will find on raising the twentieth ro. found it. twisted it up together.. I felt for it. and opened the crumpled paper with inexpressible emotion.. "Caes. kept there by the request of the heirs. . in.. however. and Bentivoglio. that is. with an air of triumph. and putting it into the expiring flame.. all I poss. lighted my taper in the fire itself. 1498. to make use of any valuable piece of paper.. I took a wax−candle in one hand.. my sole heir.. jewels. be. in proportion as the fire ascended." Faria. as if by magic. It was that paper you read this morning. and has visited with me. I grasped it in my hand. offered the paper to Dantes. creek to the east in a right line. when I had done so.. I awoke as the clock was striking six. who were poisoned.. but as no one came. recognizing... diamonds. that I have bu. and re.. and then I will complete for you the incomplete words and unconnected sense. Fearing. I was in utter darkness. an old paper quite yellow with age. who this time read the following words. read it again.. which treasure I bequeath and leave en. gems.. "But beneath my fingers. "25th April... as my sole heir.. Dantes. which was on the table beside me.. I hesitated for a moment.. put out the flame as quickly as I could. he may desire to become my heir. and fearing that not. I saw yellowish characters appear on the paper.. Alexander VI. I raised my head. the treasure is in the furthest a. set light to it. and with the other groped about for a piece of paper (my match−box being empty). then recollected that I had seen in the famous breviary.. 1498. I determined to find one for myself. in these caves.Chapter 18 225 about three o'clock in the afternoon. only appearing when exposed to the fire... and which had served as a marker for centuries... Two open. with which I proposed to get a light from the small flame still playing on the embers. Island of Monte Cristo.

and fearing that not.Chapter 18 226 "And now. Two open. which Edmond read as follows: −− ".. he may desire to become my heir. the treasure is in the furthest a..ings have been made in these caves.. which treasure I bequeath and leave en." "Well. my sole heir. a thousand times.. "read this other paper.." he said.... "and now..know of the existence of this treasure..the caves of the small Island of Monte Cristo all I from the small . that I alone.lions of Roman crowns.. "It is the declaration of Cardinal Spada. Guido Spada ..essed of ingots..ried in a place he knows and has visited with me. and judge for Spada..serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara . that is. 1498.content with making me pay for my hat. be...." said the abbe....." and he presented to Dantes a second leaf with fragments of lines written on it. jewels... gold.... who were invited to dine by his Holiness ..the caves of the small . when he saw that Dantes had read the last line.tire to him .ngle in the second....serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara and Bentivoglio. in..ings have been made . and the will so long sought for. . and which he will find on raising the twentieth Spada. yes!" ." Faria followed him with an excited look.I declare to my nephew... "25th from the small creek to the east in a right line. and re.lions of Roman crowns. that I have bu. money. money......... diamonds.. still incredulous.." replied Edmond.. 1498. which .tire to him as my sole heir.content with making me pay for my hat.know of the existence of this treasure. "put the two fragments invited to dine by his Holiness Alexander VI.. "Caes." Dantes obeyed.. .. gems. and the conjointed pieces gave the following: −− "This 25th day of April..... and which he . .ngle in the second.ssed of ingots. which may amount to nearly two mil.. do you comprehend now?" inquired Faria. "Yes. gold... Guido Spada..I declare to my nephew.ried in a place he knows .

" continued Faria. nearly thirteen millions of our money. "Now. make your mind satisfied on that point. "now. The last Count of Spada. half this treasure is yours." "But. "has this treasure no more legitimate possessor in the world than ourselves?" "No. the whole belongs to you. bequeathing to me this symbolic breviary. as we are guided in a cavern by the small ray of light above us." "And what did you do when you arrived at this conclusion?" "I resolved to set out. . and divining the hidden meaning by means of what was in part revealed. no. and you escape alone. if I die here. Aided by the remaining fragment."* * $2. the unity of the Italian kingdom. having aroused their suspicions. wished for a partition of provinces) had their eyes on me.000 in 1894. If we ever escape together.Chapter 18 227 "And who completed it as it now is?" "I did. measuring the length of the lines by those of the paper." "And you say this treasure amounts to" −− "Two millions of Roman crowns. made me his heir. my dear fellow. the family is extinct. but for some time the imperial police (who at this period. he bequeathed to me all it contained. addressing Dantes with an almost paternal expression. moreover. and did set out at that very instant. the cause of which they were unable to guess. carrying with me the beginning of my great work. be easy on that score. If we lay hands on this fortune. you know as much as I do myself. we may enjoy it without remorse. I guessed the rest. and my hasty departure. no. quite contrary to what Napoleon desired so soon as he had a son born to him. I was arrested at the very moment I was leaving Piombino. no.600." inquired Dantes hesitating.

"that I might test your character." he added. when other opportunities for investment were wanting.Chapter 19 228 "Impossible!" said Dantes." exclaimed the old man. I have no right to it. could insure the future happiness of him whom Faria really loved as a son. Had we escaped before my attack of catalepsy." replied Dantes. my dear friend. it had doubled its value in his eyes. the man who could not be a father. "and to you only. God has sent you to me to console. "Impossible? and why?" asked the old man. "I have only kept this secret so long from you. and then surprise you. you do not thank me?" "This treasure belongs to you." 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. at one and the same time. handed down by entail." Edmond thought he was in a dream −− he wavered between incredulity and joy. now. Well. Dantes. and in those times. and which they cannot touch. Chapter 19 The Third Attack. and every day he . Dantes. "it is you who will conduct me thither. I should have conducted you to Monte Cristo. staggered at the enormous amount." "You are my son. I am no relation of yours. My profession condemns me to celibacy. and the prisoner who could not get free. which had so long been the object of the abbe's meditations. "You are the child of my captivity. with a sigh. such accumulations of gold and jewels were by no means rare. there are at this day Roman families perishing of hunger. though possessed of nearly a million in diamonds and jewels. Now that this treasure. "The Spada family was one of the oldest and most powerful families of the fifteenth century." continued Faria.

and then Dantes' countenance became gloomy. It was past a question now that Faria was not a lunatic. and Faria gave Dantes advice as to the means he should employ to recover the treasure. situated twenty−five miles from Pianosa. completely deserted. he yet believed it was no longer there. a man with thirteen or fourteen millions could do to his enemies. and still is. between Corsica and the Island of Elba. supposing it had ever existed. with an air of sorrowful resignation. was rebuilt. increased Edmond's admiration of him. a man could do in these days to his friends. which. Thus a new. They had repaired it completely. for their attempt to escape would have been detected. which had given rise to the suspicion of his madness. and making them understand that they were condemned to perpetual imprisonment. The abbe did not know the Island of Monte Cristo. a new misfortune befell them. and stopped up with vast masses of stone the hole Dantes had partly filled in. However. and had often passed it. and though he considered the treasure as by no means chimerical. to Faria. and had once touched there. the misfortune would have been still greater. But for this precaution. and they would undoubtedly have been separated. which looks as though it had been thrust up by volcanic force from the depth to the surface of the ocean. which had long been in ruins. It is a rock of almost conical form. in these times. as if fate resolved on depriving the prisoners of their last chance. and he reflected how much ill. the abbe had made to Edmond. still existed. the gallery on the sea side. a stronger. but at the same time Dantes could not believe that the deposit. and the way in which he had achieved the discovery. But Dantes was far from being as enthusiastic and confident as the old man. with thirteen or fourteen millions of francs. but Dantes knew it. and more inexorable barrier was interposed to cut off the realization of their hopes. it will be remembered. always had been. explaining to Dantes all the good which. "You see. Dantes drew a plan of the island for Faria." said the young man. This island was. for the oath of vengeance he had taken recurred to his memory.Chapter 19 229 expatiated on the amount. "that God deems it right to take from me any claim to merit for what .

in spite of our jailers. even were they not as problematical as the clouds we see in the morning floating over the sea. and makes my whole frame capable of great and terrible things. who for so long a time had kept silence as to the treasure. But my real treasure is not that. my dear friend. Believe me. The treasure will be no more mine than yours. it is the rays of intelligence you have elicited from my brain. to hear your eloquent speech. and neither of us will quit this prison. and had given up all hope of ever enjoying it himself. and this −− this is my fortune −− not chimerical. −− which embellishes my mind. But he was continually thinking over some means of escape for his young companion. it is your presence." Thus. and Dantes knew it from the first to the last word. but actual. −− instructions which were to serve him . if not actually happy. and all the sovereigns of the earth. and anticipating the pleasure he would enjoy. As he had prophesied would be the case. For fear the letter might be some day lost or stolen. Faria. if I should ever be free. yet the days these two unfortunates passed together went quickly. These different sciences that you have made so easy to me by the depth of the knowledge you possess of them.Chapter 19 230 you call my devotion to you. that the despair to which I was just on the point of yielding when I knew you. he remained paralyzed in the right arm and the left leg. and take comfort. my present happiness. this is better for me than tons of gold and cases of diamonds. Then he destroyed the second portion. and with this you have made me rich and happy. I have promised to remain forever with you. the languages you have implanted in my memory. our living together five or six hours a day. strengthens my soul. which awaits me beneath the sombre rocks of Monte Cristo. and now I could not break my promise if I would. and which evaporate and vanish as we draw near to them. To have you as long as possible near me. assured that if the first were seized. −− so fills my whole existence. my beloved friend. Whole hours sometimes passed while Faria was giving instructions to Dantes. he compelled Dantes to learn it by heart. I owe you my real good. has no longer any hold over me. even Caesar Borgia himself. and which have taken root there with all their philological ramifications. and the clearness of the principles to which you have reduced them −− this is my treasure. now perpetually talked of it. no one would be able to discover its real meaning. which we take for terra firma. could not deprive me of this.

who learns to make something from nothing. But beneath this superficial calm there were in the heart of the young man. and reached the opposite extremity. Then. and remain there alone under some pretext which would arouse no suspicions. and perhaps in that of the old man. without having recovered the use of his hand and foot. believing that he heard some one calling him. that he might not see himself grow old. −− Faria. or rather a plaintive voice which essayed to pronounce his name. at least tolerably. In the meanwhile the hours passed. pale. which found vent when Faria was left alone. and search in the appointed spot. he could have but one only thought. once free. By the light of the wretched and wavering lamp. Faria. One night Edmond awoke suddenly. . and once there. clinging to the bedstead. They were thus perpetually employed. from the day and hour and moment when he was so. He sat up in bed and a cold sweat broke out upon his brow. His features were writhing with those horrible symptoms which he already knew. the secret entrance was open. Dantes saw the old man. as we have said. 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. rushed into the passage. but yet erect. be it remembered. of which we have spoken. to endeavor to find the wonderful caverns. taught his youthful companion the patient and sublime duty of a prisoner. if not rapidly. besides the moral instructions we have detailed. "can it be?" He moved his bed. to gain Monte Cristo by some means. He opened his eyes upon utter darkness. many repressed desires. and had gradually. and which had so seriously alarmed him when he saw them for the first time. drew up the stone.Chapter 19 231 when he was at liberty. "Alas." murmured Edmond. and when Edmond returned to his cell. −− the appointed spot. for fear of recalling the almost extinct past which now only floated in his memory like a distant light wandering in the night. had regained all the clearness of his understanding. being the farthest angle in the second opening. Dantes. His name. which was. Undoubtedly the call came from Faria's dungeon. reached him. many stifled sighs.

should do all in his power to preserve that existence.Chapter 19 232 "Alas. my dear friend. however painful it may be. "Oh. my friend. quite out of his senses. and so act as to render your captivity supportable or your flight possible." Edmond could only clasp his hands and exclaim. my friend." he said. "Oh. my friend. "Help. shaking his head. "but no matter." said Faria in a resigned tone. "See. and I will save you a second time!" And raising the foot of the bed. my dear Edmond. exclaiming. are there any fresh instructions? Speak. We must now only think of you. and the results would be instantly destroyed if our jailers knew we had communicated with each other. and it was time I should die. and. speak not thus!" and then resuming all his presence of mind. which had failed at the words of the old man. Perhaps he will be young. which." replied Faria. rushed towards the door. still a third filled with the red liquor." "There is not a hope. and in whose heart he has so profoundly rooted the love of life. and his strength. be assured. It would require years to do again what I have done here. Besides. God wills it that man whom he has created. I listen. do you not. and will aid you in your escape. "you understand. and I need not attempt to explain to you?" Edmond uttered a cry of agony. "there remains still some of the magic draught. he drew out the phial. like yourself. while I have been but a hindrance." . which had for a moment staggered under this blow." he exclaimed. I have saved you once. strong. my dear friend. he restores to you more than he takes away. and to him you will appear like an angel of salvation. the dungeon I am about to leave will not long remain empty. "or you are lost. is yet always so dear. help!" Faria had just sufficient strength to restrain him. Quick. he said. "Silence. At length providence has done something for you. and enduring. some other unfortunate being will soon take my place. quick! tell me what I must do this time. You will no longer have half a dead body tied to you as a drag to all your movements.

Dantes raised his head and saw Faria's eyes injected with blood." A violent convulsion attacked the old man. The treasure of the Spadas exists. now. The cold gains upon me. then. I feel the blood flowing towards my brain. in five minutes the malady will reach its height. "Do as you did before. after having made me swallow twelve drops instead of ten. I see it in the depths of the inner cavern. his heart wrung with anguish. leaning his head against the old man's bed. yes. If. "sole consolation of my wretched existence. Hasten to Monte Cristo −− avail yourself of the fortune −− for you have indeed suffered long enough. −− at the moment of separating from you forever." Edmond took the old man in his arms. "and I tell you that I will save you yet. looking at his paralyzed arm and leg. "has but half its work to do. and for which I am most grateful.Chapter 19 233 "Oh. and death." "Well. I wish you all the happiness and all the prosperity you so well deserve. to what I say in this my dying moment. It seemed as if a flow of blood had ascended from the chest to the head. whom all the world called mad. "Listen. remember that the poor abbe." he continued. which make my teeth chatter and seem to dislocate my bones. My eyes pierce the inmost recesses of the earth. and are dazzled at the sight of so much riches. try." said Faria. God grants me the boon of vision unrestricted by time or space. only do not wait so long. These horrible chills. a priceless gift." "Oh!" exclaimed Dantes. my dear friend. . you see that I do not recover. yes!" exclaimed Dantes. but still gave me. was not so. and laid him on the bed. Now lift me on my bed. begin to pervade my whole frame. If you do escape. all the springs of life are now exhausted in me. −− you whom heaven gave me somewhat late. and in a quarter of an hour there will be nothing left of me but a corpse. then pour the rest down my throat. for I can no longer support myself. My son. I bless thee!" The young man cast himself on his knees. "And now.

twice as much more. −− no change took place. in place of the intellectual being who so lately rested there. which offered less resistance than before. swollen eyelids. "do not forsake me! Oh. At your age we have faith in life. With steady gaze he awaited confidently the moment for administering the restorative. I suffer less because there is in me less strength to endure. stiffened body. he poured the whole of the liquid down his . succor him! Help −− help −− help!" "Hush −− hush!" murmured the dying man. −− "Monte Cristo. Oh. not yet. −− no. the phial contained. it is the privilege of youth to believe and hope. Oh. Trembling. "that they may not separate us if you save me!" "You are right. but old men see death more clearly. Then he thought it was time to make the last trial. although you suffer much. and a rigid form with twisted limbs. Dantes took the lamp. he took the knife. perhaps. and watched. and he put the phial to the purple lips of Faria. yes. placed it on a projecting stone above the bed. The crisis was terrible. his hair erect. counted one after the other twelve drops. no. lay on the bed of torture. pried open the teeth. forget not Monte Cristo!" And he fell back on the bed. 'tis here −− 'tis here −− 'tis over −− my sight is gone −− my senses fail! Your hand. and lips flecked with bloody foam. a quarter of an hour. half an hour. his brow bathed with perspiration." he cried. When he believed that the right moment had arrived. whence its tremulous light fell with strange and fantastic ray on the distorted countenance and motionless. He waited ten minutes. adieu!" murmured the old man. which had remained extended. he said. Dantes! Adieu −− adieu!" And raising himself by a final effort. clasping Edmond's hand convulsively −− "adieu!" "Oh. he counted the seconds by the beating of his heart. you do not seem to be in such agony as you were before.Chapter 19 234 "Adieu." "Do not mistake. yes. and without having occasion to force open his jaws. in which he summoned all his faculties. be assured I shall save you! Besides.

he heaved a sigh which resembled a shriek. While the struggle between day and night lasted. and its feeble ray came into the dungeon. He extinguished the lamp. for the jailer was coming. the eyes remained open. a violent trembling pervaded the old man's limbs. It was six o'clock in the morning. It was time. who called out for help. Last of all came the governor. and during this period of anguish. and then went away. but in vain −− they opened again as soon as shut. the last movement of the heart ceased. taking thither breakfast and some linen. an hour and a half elapsed. but as soon as the daylight gained the pre−eminence. the face became livid. and then was heard the regular tramp of soldiers. and at times gave it the appearance of life. On this occasion he began his rounds at Dantes' cell. until at length it stopped. Edmond leaned over his friend. The draught produced a galvanic effect. and paled the ineffectual light of the lamp. the eyes remaining open. an hour. Then an invincible and extreme terror seized upon him. his eyes opened until it was fearful to gaze upon them. his hand applied to his heart. . Half an hour. but the eyeballs were glazed. and arrived in time to hear the exclamations of the turnkey. and then his convulsed body returned gradually to its former immobility. and the heart's pulsation become more and more deep and dull. the dawn was just breaking. Other turnkeys came. Dantes was then seized with an indescribable desire to know what was going on in the dungeon of his unfortunate friend. Strange shadows passed over the countenance of the dead man. and he dared not again press the hand that hung out of bed. Dantes still doubted. closing as well as he could the entrance to the secret passage by the large stone as he descended. and on leaving him he went on to Faria's dungeon. He therefore returned by the subterraneous gallery. which he tried many times to close. Nothing betokened that the man know anything of what had occurred. He went on his way. he dared no longer to gaze on those fixed and vacant eyes.Chapter 19 235 throat. he saw that he was alone with a corpse. and felt the body gradually grow cold. carefully concealed it.

for he felt that all the world should have for the poor abbe a love and respect equal to his own. and required no watching." . "the madman has gone to look after his treasure. "I am very sorry for what you tell me. heard the voice of the governor. in spite of this application. who asked them to throw water on the dead man's face. "Oh. therefore. and it seemed to him as if every one had left the cell. he will not have enough to pay for his shroud!" said another. replying to the assurance of the doctor. inoffensive prisoner. "Well. mingled with brutal laughter. they may go to some expense in his behalf. and words of pity fell on Dantes' listening ears.Chapter 19 236 Edmond heard the creaking of the bed as they moved the corpse. He remained. he heard a faint noise. "that the old man is really dead. It was the governor who returned. hardly venturing to breathe. "the shrouds of the Chateau d'If are not dear!" "Perhaps. The doctor analyzed the symptoms of the malady to which the prisoner had succumbed. "as he was a churchman. The governor then went out. happy in his folly." said one. they sent for the doctor. followed by the doctor and other attendants. the prisoner did not recover. Still he dared not to enter." Edmond did not lose a word. The inquiries soon commenced." said the governor. as they might have left some turnkey to watch the dead. The voices soon ceased. At the end of an hour. Questions and answers followed in a nonchalant manner that made Dantes indignant. and declared that he was dead." "They may give him the honors of the sack. for he was a quiet. and seeing that. which increased. well. mute and motionless. −− it was evident that the doctor was examining the dead body. Good journey to him!" "With all his millions." said one of the previous speakers. but comprehended very little of what was said. There was a moment's silence." added a third voice.

and then was heard the crackling of burning flesh. "there was no occasion for watching him: he would have stayed here fifty years. saying." said the governor. and not that I doubt your science. but in discharge of my official duty. "You may make your mind easy." said the governor. "You see. people going and coming." "Still. still listening. "he is dead." This order to heat the irons made Dantes shudder. He heard hasty steps. as to finish your duty by fulfilling the formalities described by law." "Let the irons be heated." said the doctor." "Wasn't his name Faria?" inquired one of the officers who accompanied the governor. during which Dantes. sir." added the turnkey. persisting." said the doctor. lighted. that we should be perfectly assured that the prisoner is dead. ." There was a moment's silence. "I believe it will be requisite." "You know. he is really dead. and he felt as if he should faint. I will answer for that.Chapter 19 237 "Ah. "this burn in the heel is decisive. −− "Here is the brazier. I'll answer for it. knew that the doctor was examining the corpse a second time. without any attempt to escape. and delivered from his captivity. "that we are not content in such cases as this with such a simple examination. The perspiration poured forth upon the young man's brow. notwithstanding your certainty. In spite of all appearances. sir. "but really it is a useless precaution. the creaking of a door. of which the peculiar and nauseous smell penetrated even behind the wall where Dantes was listening in horror." There was a moment of complete silence." said the doctor. be so kind. therefore. and some minutes afterwards a turnkey entered. The poor fool is cured of his folly.

then the bed again creaked under the weight deposited upon it. too. in order to take a trip to Hyeres for a week." "It is the sort of malady which we call monomania. and a moment afterwards the noise of rustling canvas reached Dantes' ears. One day. when my wife was ill." replied the jailer. "Will there be any mass?" asked one of the attendants. "That is impossible.Chapter 19 238 "Yes." "Yes. that you will show him all proper respect. "The chaplain of the chateau came to me yesterday to beg for leave of absence. and. he was intractable. too. "You had never anything to complain of?" said the governor to the jailer who had charge of the abbe. and rational enough on all points which did not relate to his treasure. "I did not know that I had a rival. very learned. sir. If the poor abbe had not been in such a hurry. but I hope. governor. "This evening. and the heavy footfall of a man who lifts a weight sounded on the floor. Will that satisfy you?" "Must this last formality take place in your presence. as he said. going and coming. the bed creaked. on the contrary. but on that. He was." replied the governor. he sometimes amused me very much by telling me stories. were now heard. sir. he shall be decently interred in the newest sack we can find. he gave me a prescription which cured her. "Certainly. "Never." said the doctor. "never. But make haste −− I cannot stay here all day. yes. make your mind easy." Other footsteps. it was an ancient name. sir?" inquired a turnkey. he might have had his . ah!" said the doctor." "Ah." said the governor. I told him I would attend to the prisoners in his absence. indeed.

cost so little." said the doctor. pooh. the noise of the door. and Dantes emerged from the tunnel. and not give the devil the wicked delight of sending him a priest." "Shall we watch by the corpse?" "Of what use would it be? Shut the dungeon as if he were alive −− that is all. lay a sack of canvas. Everything was in readiness. it was Faria's last winding−sheet. "Why. −− the silence of death. On the bed." Then the steps retreated." said the governor. and struck its icy chill to the very soul of Dantes. No longer could Edmond look into those wide−open eyes which had seemed to . God will respect his profession." A shout of laughter followed this brutal jest. and faintly illuminated by the pale light that came from the window. A barrier had been placed between Dantes and his old friend. "he is a churchman. which was all−pervasive. as the turnkey said. and the voices died away in the distance. about ten or eleven o'clock. and looked carefully around the chamber.Chapter 20 239 requiem. "At what hour?" inquired a turnkey. at full length. Then he raised the flag−stone cautiously with his head. when the task was ended. with the impiety usual in persons of his profession. −− a winding−sheet which. and a silence more sombre than that of solitude ensued. "This evening. Meanwhile the operation of putting the body in the sack was going on. Chapter 20 The Cemetery of the Chateau D'If. It was empty. with its creaking hinges and bolts ceased. and under its rude folds was stretched a long and stiffened form." "Pooh.

never again to hear the voice of the only human being who united him to earth! Was not Faria's fate the better. strangle him. and passed suddenly from despair to an ardent desire for life and liberty. the beneficent and cheerful companion. No. where the frail bark is tossed from the depths to the top of the wave. He seated himself on the edge of that terrible bed. Suddenly he arose. "Die? oh." he said." As he said this. no longer could he clasp the hand which had done so much to make his existence blessed. indeed. I want to live. "I should go where he goes. "I will remain here. Dantes recoiled from the idea of so infamous a death. Alone −− he was alone again −− again condemned to silence −− again face to face with nothingness! Alone! −− never again to see the face. after having lived and suffered so long and so much! Die? yes. and I shall die in my dungeon like Faria. paced twice or thrice round the dungeon. rush on the first person that opens the door. now hovered like a phantom over the abbe's dead body. no. But how to die? It is very easy. no longer breathed. I will yet win back the happiness of which I have been deprived. had I died years ago. Yet they will forget me here. Faria. to give way to the sarcasm of destiny. even at the risk of horrible suffering? The idea of suicide. some friends to reward. with whom he was accustomed to live so intimately. "Just God!" he muttered. lifted his hand to his brow as if his brain wore giddy. and fell into melancholy and gloomy revery. and should assuredly find him again. he became silent and gazed straight before him like one overwhelmed with a strange and amazing thought. but now to die would be." But excessive grief is like a storm at sea." he went on with a smile. and then paused abruptly by the bed. "whence comes this thought? Is it from thee? Since none but the dead pass freely from this dungeon." he exclaimed −− "not die now. who knows. Before I die I must not forget that I have my executioners to punish. and perhaps. and then they will guillotine me.Chapter 20 240 be penetrating the mysteries of death. let me take the place . too. "If I could die. I shall struggle to the very last. which his friend had driven away and kept away by his cheerful presence. after all −− to solve the problem of life at its source.

If he was detected in this and the earth proved too heavy. laid it on his couch. and sewed up the mouth of the sack from the inside. that they might feel only naked flesh beneath the coarse canvas. In that case his last hope would have been destroyed. took from the hiding−place the needle and thread. Now his plans were fully made.Chapter 20 241 of the dead!" Without giving himself time to reconsider his decision. once again kissed the ice−cold brow. he would use his knife to better purpose. when he brought the evening meal. and. drew the bed against the wall. Dantes had not eaten since the preceding evening. tied around its head the rag he wore at night around his own. covered it with his counterpane. entered the tunnel again. he would allow himself to be covered with earth. drew the corpse from the sack. so that the jailer might. If they took him to the cemetery and laid him in a grave. placed himself in the posture in which the dead body had been laid. turned the head towards the wall. profiting by their alarm. he bent over the appalling shroud. and bore it along the tunnel to his own chamber. and then. if they tried to catch him. but with a sudden cut of the knife. but he had not thought of hunger. He hoped that the weight of earth would not be so great that he could not overcome it. returned to the other cell. and then −− so much the better. believe that he was asleep. he meant to open the sack from top to bottom. nor did he . as it was night. flung off his rags. opened it with the knife which Faria had made. Dantes did not intend to give them time to recognize him. as was his frequent custom. all would be over. and order the dead body to be removed earlier. If while he was being carried out the grave−diggers should discover that they were bearing a live instead of a dead body. and. the grave−diggers could scarcely have turned their backs before he would have worked his way through the yielding soil and escaped. escape. Dantes might have waited until the evening visit was over. he would be stifled. indeed. He would have been discovered by the beating of his heart. if by any mischance the jailers had entered at that moment. and getting inside the sack. but he was afraid that the governor would change his mind. that he might not allow his thoughts to be distracted from his desperate resolution. which glared horribly. and this is what he intended to do. and tried vainly to close the resisting eyes.

At length. he saw two shadows approach his bed. summoned up all his courage. His hand placed upon his heart was unable to redress its throbbings. and seeing that he received no reply. approaching the ends of the bed. footsteps were heard on the stairs. The door opened. go to the bed. From time to time chills ran through his whole body. twenty times at least. from misanthropy or fatigue. Dantes' agony really began. Edmond felt that the moment had arrived. and clutched his heart in a grasp of ice. and thus discover all. fortunately. The first risk that Dantes ran was. as he raised the head. while. "Have you tied the knot?" inquired the first speaker. "He's heavy though for an old and thin man. and went away without saying a word. about the hour the governor had appointed." said one. and a dim light reached Dantes' eyes through the coarse sack that covered him. when he brought him his supper at seven o'clock. that the jailer. The two men. and Dantes knew that he had escaped the first peril. might perceive the change that had been made. His situation was too precarious to allow him even time to reflect on any thought but one. with the other he wiped the perspiration from his temples.Chapter 20 242 think of it now. and then the man placed his bread and soup on the table. This time the jailer might not be as silent as usual. Then he thought he was going to die. . a third remaining at the door with a torch in its hand. Dantes had received his jailer in bed. It was a good augury. when he heard the noise they made in putting down the hand−bier. and would have been happy if at the same time he could have repressed the throbbing of his veins. Yet the hours passed on without any unusual disturbance. When seven o'clock came. 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. held his breath. but speak to Dantes. lifting the feet. "They say every year adds half a pound to the weight of the bones." said another. took the sack by its extremities.

Chapter 20 243 "What would be the use of carrying so much more weight?" was the reply. and Dantes knew that the mistral was blowing. It was a sensation in which pleasure and pain were strangely mingled. ascended the stairs. "What can he be looking for?" thought Edmond. Edmond stiffened himself in order to play the part of a dead man. and then the party. "but it has lost nothing by waiting. then stopped." said the other bearer. and Dantes heard his shoes striking on the pavement. but fortunately he did not attempt it." "Yes. perhaps. One of them went away." "Yes. the man came towards Edmond. you're right. who heard a heavy metallic substance laid down beside him." was the answer. he is by no means a light load!" said the other bearer." The man with the torch complied." he said." An exclamation of satisfaction indicated that the grave−digger had found the object of his search. and at the same moment a cord was fastened round his feet with sudden and painful violence. Dantes' first impulse was to escape. "Here it is at last. lighted by the man with the torch. ." As he said this. Suddenly he felt the fresh and sharp night air. "or I shall never find what I am looking for. "not without some trouble though." replied the companion. who went first. "The spade. sitting on the edge of the hand−barrow. "Where am I?" he asked himself. "Give us a light. The bearers went on for twenty paces. putting the bier down on the ground. "What's the knot for?" thought Dantes. "Really. They deposited the supposed corpse on the bier. "I can do that when we get there. although not asked in the most polite terms.

"Well. "Bad weather!" observed one of the bearers. I can tell you. one by the head and the other by the heels. and then there was a burst of brutal laughter." They ascended five or six more steps. "You know very well that the last was stopped on his way.Chapter 20 244 "Well. "Yes. and swung him to and fro." And the bier was lifted once more. have you tied the knot?" inquired the grave−digger. he darted like an arrow into the ice−cold water. and then stopped to open a door. with a rapidity that made his blood curdle. and the governor told us next day that we were careless fellows. falling." "Why. . "not a pleasant night for a dip in the sea. and as he did so he uttered a shrill cry. At last." said one of them. dashed on the rocks. and pretty tight too. "A little farther −− a little farther. and they proceeded. then went forward again. yes. the abbe runs a chance of being wet." said the other. Dantes did not comprehend the jest. falling. "One!" said the grave−diggers. then. The noise of the waves dashing against the rocks on which the chateau is built. and then Dantes felt that they took him." was the answer. it seemed to him as if the fall lasted for a century. who was looking on. They advanced fifty paces farther." said the other. but his hair stood erect on his head. Although drawn downwards by the heavy weight which hastened his rapid descent. "two! three!" And at the same instant Dantes felt himself flung into the air like a wounded bird. here we are at last. reached Dantes' ear distinctly as they went forward. "Move on. stifled in a moment by his immersion beneath the waves. with a horrible splash.

although stunned and almost suffocated. at the moment when it seemed as if he were actually strangled. he was fifty paces from where he had first sunk. Dantes dived again. and on the highest rock was a torch lighting two figures. he felt it dragging him down still lower. and as his right hand (prepared as he was for every chance) held his knife open. he rapidly ripped up the sack. sombre and terrible. Dantes waited only to get breath. while the shot dragged down to the depths the sack that had so nearly become his shroud. He fancied that these two forms were looking at the sea. With a mighty leap he rose to the surface of the sea. and then dived. and remained a long time beneath the water. blacker than the sky. Dantes. and was unanimously declared to be the best swimmer in the port. rose phantom−like the vast stone structure. had sufficient presence of mind to hold his breath. and then his body. for he usually attracted a crowd of spectators in the bay before the lighthouse at Marseilles when he swam there. . and was dragged into its depths by a thirty−six pound shot tied to his feet. This was an easy feat to him. The sea is the cemetery of the Chateau d'If. When he arose a second time. blacker than the sea. whose projecting crags seemed like arms extended to seize their prey. extricated his arm. He saw overhead a black and tempestuous sky. in order to avoid being seen. and by a desperate effort severed the cord that bound his legs. Chapter 21 The Island of Tiboulen. When he came up again the light had disappeared. before him was the vast expanse of waters.Chapter 21 245 Dantes had been flung into the sea. across which the wind was driving clouds that occasionally suffered a twinkling star to appear. doubtless these strange grave−diggers had heard his cry. Behind him. but in spite of all his efforts to free himself from the shot. whose waves foamed and roared as if before the approach of a storm. He then bent his body.

therefore. determined to make for them. But what if I were mistaken?" A shudder passed over him. as we have said. but the sea was too violent. Dantes. it was at least a league from the Chateau d'If to this island. increasing rapidly his distance from the chateau. he hastened to cleave his way through them to see if he had not lost his strength. and strove to penetrate the darkness. He found with pleasure that his captivity had taken away nothing of his power." said he. he kept the Island of Tiboulen a little on the left. and every time that he rose to the top of a wave he scanned the horizon. nevertheless. . "I have swum above an hour. you must not give way to this listlessness. and then I shall sink. he would find it. that relentless pursuer. you will be drowned if you seek to escape. but he felt its presence. He listened for any sound that might be audible. "I will swim on until I am worn out. But. "Let us see. that has retarded my speed. as is also the islet of Daume. Often in prison Faria had said to him. By leaving this light on the right. and that he was still master of that element on whose bosom he had so often sported as a boy. Ratonneau and Pomegue are the nearest islands of all those that surround the Chateau d'If. but as the wind is against me. even beneath the waves." These words rang in Dantes' ears. He sought to tread water. Tiboulen and Lemaire were therefore the safest for Dantes' venture. I must be close to Tiboulen. "Well. Fear. clogged Dantes' efforts. in order to rest himself. and already the terrible chateau had disappeared in the darkness. The islands of Tiboulen and Lemaire are a league from the Chateau d'If. An hour passed. when he saw him idle and inactive. gleaming in front of him like a star. but exhausting his strength. if I am not mistaken.Chapter 21 246 He must now get his bearings. and he redoubled his exertions. He could not see it. "Dantes. and your strength has not been properly exercised and prepared for exertion. however. continued to cleave the waves." and he struck out with the energy of despair. or the cramp seizes me. and he felt that he could not make use of this means of recuperation. by turning to the left. but Ratonneau and Pomegue are inhabited. excited by the feeling of freedom. during which Dantes. He fancied that every wave behind him was a pursuing boat. He swam on still." said he. But how could he find his way in the darkness of the night? At this moment he saw the light of Planier.

Chapter 21 247 Suddenly the sky seemed to him to become still darker and more dense. and consequently better adapted for concealment. It was the Island of Tiboulen. and listened for the report. that resembled nothing so much as a vast fire petrified at the moment of its most fervent combustion. Dantes rose. stretched himself on the granite. but he heard nothing. He knew that it was barren and without shelter. wetted him with their spray. and heavy clouds seemed to sweep down towards him. he resolved to plunge into its waves again. in fact. but larger. which was. dashing themselves against it. It seemed to him that the island trembled to its base. and encountered an obstacle and with another stroke knew that he had gained the shore. sweet sleep of utter exhaustion. The tempest was let loose and beating the atmosphere with its mighty wings. but when the sea became more calm. which seemed to him softer than down. He then recollected that he had not eaten or drunk for four−and−twenty hours. with a fervent prayer of gratitude. and yet he felt dizzy in the midst of the warring of the elements and the dazzling brightness of the lightning. Tiboulen. Dantes had not been deceived −− he had reached the first of the two islands. Then he put out his hand. from time to time a flash of lightning stretched across the heavens like a fiery serpent. equally arid. He extended his hands. An overhanging rock offered him a temporary shelter. and scarcely had he availed himself of it when the tempest burst forth in all its fury. and bear him off into the centre of the storm. and. like a vessel at anchor. at the same time he felt a sharp pain in his knee. Then. He was safely sheltered. break moorings. At the expiration of an hour Edmond was awakened by the roar of thunder. lighting up the clouds that rolled on in vast chaotic waves. Before him rose a grotesque mass of rocks. he fell into the deep. . and that it would. Edmond felt the trembling of the rock beneath which he lay. in spite of the wind and rain. advanced a few steps. and swim to Lemaire. and drank greedily of the rainwater that had lodged in a hollow of the rock. the waves. He fancied for a moment that he had been shot.

that seemed to rive the remotest heights of heaven. between the Island of Lemaire and Cape Croiselle. but he heard and saw nothing −− the cries had ceased. approaching with frightful rapidity. the men who cast . Dantes ran down the rocks at the risk of being himself dashed to pieces." thought Dantes. and the tempest continued to rage. illumined the darkness. Above the splintered mast a sail rent to tatters was waving. suddenly the ropes that still held it gave way. and indeed since his captivity in the Chateau d'If he had forgotten that such scenes were ever to be witnessed. Dantes stood mute and motionless before this majestic spectacle. and gilded their foaming crests with gold. seek for me in vain. the waves whitened. recognize it. but they saw it themselves. It was day. Soon a red streak became visible in the horizon. a flash of lightning.Chapter 21 248 As he rose. Then the tunnel will be discovered. The gloomy building rose from the bosom of the ocean with imposing majesty and seemed to dominate the scene. a light played over them. Another flash showed him four men clinging to the shattered mast and the rigging. Dantes saw a fishing−boat driven rapidly like a spectre before the power of winds and waves. It was about five o'clock. By degrees the wind abated. He turned towards the fortress. vast gray clouds rolled towards the west. he groped about. The sea continued to get calmer. "the turnkey will enter my chamber. Then all was dark again. and looked at both sea and land. find the body of my poor friend. he saw it again. for their cries were carried to his ears by the wind. as if he now beheld it for the first time. and give the alarm. "In two or three hours. a quarter of a league distant. and it disappeared in the darkness of the night like a vast sea−bird. and the blue firmament appeared studded with bright stars. he listened. and cries of distress. Dantes cried at the top of his voice to warn them of their danger. By its light. and among the fragments the floating forms of the hapless sailors. A second after. The men he beheld saw him undoubtedly. Dantes from his rocky perch saw the shattered vessel. At the same moment a violent crash was heard. while a fifth clung to the broken rudder.

I am hungry. with the wind dead ahead. detected. seized one of the timbers. who are in reality smugglers. In an instant Dantes' plan was formed. But I cannot −−−I am starving. I have lost even the knife that saved me. Then boats filled with armed soldiers will pursue the wretched fugitive. did I not fear being questioned." As Dantes (his eyes turned in the direction of the Chateau d'If) uttered this prayer. "I am saved!" murmured he. but he soon . and do for me what I am unable to do for myself. and with his sailor's eye he knew it to be a Genoese tartan. I must wait. and started. besides. will be questioned. My story will be accepted. I have suffered enough surely! Have pity on me. He soon saw that the vessel. whilst the governor pursues me by sea. perhaps I have not been missed at the fortress. O my God. she should stand out to sea. I can pass as one of the sailors wrecked last night. these men. her sharp prow cleaving through the waves. Dantes looked toward the spot where the fishing−vessel had been wrecked. The police of Marseilles will be on the alert by land. and conveyed back to Marseilles! What can I do? What story can I invent? under pretext of trading along the coast. In a few hours my strength will be utterly exhausted. "to think that in half an hour I could join her. The cannon will warn every one to refuse shelter to a man wandering about naked and famished.Chapter 21 249 me into the sea and who must have heard the cry I uttered. and struck out so as to cut across the course the vessel was taking. He swam to the cap. For an instant he feared lest. was tacking between the Chateau d'If and the tower of Planier. instead of keeping in shore." As he spoke. "Oh. 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. She was coming out of Marseilles harbor. will prefer selling me to doing a good action. 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. placed it on his head. and was standing out to sea rapidly. And this conviction restored his strength." cried Edmond. for there is no one left to contradict me. floated at the foot of the crag. I am cold.

However. and felt himself sinking. This time he was both seen and heard. as if the fatal cannon shot were again tied to his feet. and swam vigorously to meet them. to reach the vessel −− certainly to return to shore. A convulsive movement again brought him to the surface. His arms became stiff. and the sky turned gray. It was then he rejoiced at his precaution in taking the timber.Chapter 21 250 saw that she would pass. but he knew that the wind would drown his voice. but no one on board saw him. waving his cap. Dantes let go of the timber. Then he advanced. like most vessels bound for Italy. rowed by two men. but before they could meet. Dantes. though almost sure as to what course the vessel would take. he saw they were about to lower the boat. But he had reckoned too much upon his strength. which he now thought to be useless. He rose again to the surface. uttered a third cry. and he was almost breathless. between the islands of Jaros and Calaseraigne. struggled with the last desperate effort of a drowning man. and then he realized how serviceable the timber had been to him. At the same time. and the vessel stood on another tack. had yet watched it anxiously until it tacked and stood towards him. By a violent effort he rose half out of the water. for without it he would have been unable. An instant after. making signs of distress. advanced rapidly towards him. He felt himself seized by the . and uttering a loud shout peculiar to sailers. He rose on the waves. The water passed over his head. the vessel and the swimmer insensibly neared one another. should he be unsuccessful in attracting attention. perhaps. and in one of its tacks the tartan bore down within a quarter of a mile of him. The two sailors redoubled their efforts. Dantes would have shouted. the boat. his legs lost their flexibility. the vessel again changed her course. He shouted again. and the tartan instantly steered towards him. and one of them cried in Italian. "Courage!" The word reached his ear as a wave which he no longer had the strength to surmount passed over his head.

A few drops of the rum restored suspended animation." continued Dantes. "I am. he was lying on the deck." returned Dantes." replied Dantes." . I swam off on a piece of wreckage to try and intercept your course." "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. in bad Italian. while the friction of his limbs restored their elasticity. As we have said. and which may overtake them to−morrow.Chapter 21 251 hair. for you were sinking. and I thank you. "Who are you?" said the pilot in bad French. looked on with that egotistical pity men feel for a misfortune that they have escaped yesterday. He had fainted. whom he recognized as the one who had cried out "Courage!" held a gourd full of rum to his mouth. I saw your vessel. an old sailer. We were coming from Syracuse laden with grain. then he saw and heard nothing. They were rapidly leaving the Chateau d'If behind." "It was I. "a Maltese sailor. When he opened his eyes Dantes found himself on the deck of the tartan. You have saved my life. at once the pilot and captain. "I was lost when one of your sailors caught hold of my hair. another. while the third." "Yes. and fearful of being left to perish on the desolate island." 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. holding out his hand. and we were wrecked on these rocks. "I thank you again. The storm of last night overtook us at Cape Morgion. A sailor was rubbing his limbs with a woollen cloth. "and it was time. His first care was to see what course they were taking.

" Dantes recollected that his hair and beard had not been cut all the time he was at the Chateau d'If. and your hair a foot long." "You know the best harbors?" "There are few ports that I could not enter or leave with a bandage over my eyes. with your beard six inches." said the sailor who had cried "Courage!" to Dantes. but I am a good sailor." said Dantes." said the captain doubtingly. I have barely escaped. "But in his present condition he will promise anything." "I say. "if what he says is true." "I will do more than I promise. I shall be sure to find employment. smiling. "Yes. "you looked more like a brigand than an honest man. "We shall see." "Do you know the Mediterranean?" "I have sailed over it since my childhood. anything you please. and take his chance of keeping it afterwards. Leave me at the first port you make. "Alas. 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." replied the sailor. but to−day the vow expires. My captain is dead." said he. . though. what hinders his staying with us?" "If he says true. captain." "Now what are we to do with you?" said the captain.Chapter 21 252 "I almost hesitated. "I made a vow. "Where are you going?" asked Dantes." returned the other.

" said he. while the pilot looked on. and let us see what you know." "Give me what you give the others. you can leave me there. she yet was tolerably obedient." said Dantes. and it will be all right." returned Dantes. without being a first−rate sailer. "Belay." "You shall pass it by twenty fathoms. "I shall be of some use to you. obeyed. felt to see if the vessel answered the rudder promptly and seeing that. instead of tacking so frequently. −− "To the sheets." "Ah. twenty fathoms to windward. for my food and the clothes you lend me. "You see." This order was also executed. 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. "Bravo!" repeated the sailors." "Take the helm." "Then why. "Bravo!" said the captain. at least during the voyage. who composed the crew. do you not sail nearer the wind?" "Because we should run straight on to the Island of Rion. "we can agree very well. and I will pay you out of the first wages I get. ." The young man took the helm. and the vessel passed. "Haul taut. The four seamen." said the captain. quitting the helm. if you are reasonable. If you do not want me at Leghorn." −− They obeyed.Chapter 21 253 "To Leghorn. as Dantes had predicted.

" cried the captain to the steersman. if you have them." replied Jacopo. and they are firing the alarm gun. but he had lifted the rum . for I have not eaten or drunk for a long time. "Larboard your helm. which had attracted Dantes' attention." "Well. "I only make a remark. "Hollo! what's the matter at the Chateau d'If?" said the captain. do you wish for anything else?" said the patron. Jacopo dived into the hold and soon returned with what Edmond wanted. "A piece of bread and another glass of the capital rum I tasted. you would do much better to find him a jacket and a pair of trousers. "Now. crowned the summit of the bastion of the Chateau d'If." interrupted Dantes. "What is this?" asked the captain." said Jacopo. At the same moment the faint report of a gun was heard." He had not tasted food for forty hours. The sailors looked at one another. Jacopo?" returned the Captain. then. The captain glanced at him." "That's true." "No. then paused with hand in mid−air." "What is that to you. A small white cloud. Dantes glanced that way as he lifted the gourd to his mouth. "Every one is free to ask what he pleases. A piece of bread was brought. "for you know more than we do. "A prisoner has escaped from the Chateau d'If." said the seaman who had saved Dantes. and Jacopo offered him the gourd. "but I have a shirt and a pair of trousers." "That is all I want." replied Dantes.Chapter 21 254 "That's not fair.

" replied the young man. and Villefort the oath of implacable vengeance he had made in his dungeon. for the fastest sailer in the Mediterranean would have been unable to overtake the little tartan. that with every stitch of canvas set was flying before the wind to Leghorn. Then his eyes lighted up with hatred as he thought of the three men who had caused him so long and wretched a captivity. he was thirty−three when he escaped. A sorrowful smile passed over his face. if the captain had any. Fernand. looked at the captain. I ask you what year is it?" "The year 1829. the steersman.Chapter 21 255 to his lips and was drinking it with so much composure. Dantes could thus keep his eyes on Marseilles. "if it be. It was fourteen years day for day since Dantes' arrest. that suspicions. so much the better. Dantes asked to take the helm. . He renewed against Danglars." murmured he. and the latter by a sign indicated that he might abandon it to his new comrade." returned Jacopo. died away. He was nineteen when he entered the Chateau d'If." "In what year?" "In what year −− you ask me in what year?" "Yes." replied Dantes. "The 28th of February. This oath was no longer a vain menace. who sat down beside him. "At any rate. smiling." Under pretence of being fatigued. "I ask you in what year!" "You have forgotten then?" "I got such a fright last night. "What is the day of the month?" asked he of Jacopo. he asked himself what had become of Mercedes. for I have made a rare acquisition. who must believe him dead. "that I have almost lost my memory. glad to be relieved.

and then. country. with the small boats sailing along the coast. and however the old sailor and his crew tried to "pump" him. gave him great facilities of communication. but this supposition also disappeared like the first.Chapter 22 256 Chapter 22 The Smugglers. like that of kings. was accompanied with salutes of artillery. it must be owned. or with the people without name. and who live by hidden and mysterious means which we must suppose to be a direct gift of providence. Without having been in the school of the Abbe Faria. and as there was between these worthies and himself a perpetual battle of wits. and this. while it spared him interpreters. when he beheld the perfect tranquillity of his recruit. when he saw the light plume of smoke floating above the bastion of the Chateau d'If. from the Arabic to the Provencal. 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. who are always seen on the quays of seaports. he was instantly struck with the idea that he had on board his vessel one whose coming and going. without the owner knowing who he was. At first the captain had received Dantes on board with a certain degree of distrust. and heard the distant report. He was very well known to the customs officers of the coast. Dantes had not been a day on board before he had a very clear idea of the men with whom his lot had been cast. But the skilful manner in which Dantes had handled the lugger had entirely reassured him. either with the vessels he met at sea. they extracted nothing more from him. he gave . than if the new−comer had proved to be a customs officer. he had at first thought that Dantes might be an emissary of these industrious guardians of rights and duties. This made him less uneasy. as they have no visible means of support. Edmond thus had the advantage of knowing what the owner was. persons always troublesome and frequently indiscreet. or occupation. It is fair to assume that Dantes was on board a smuggler. who perhaps employed this ingenious means of learning some of the secrets of his trade.

The barber gazed in amazement at this man with the long. Here Edmond was to undergo another trial. when the features are encircled with black hair. and Edmond felt that his chin was completely smooth. so long kept from the sun. which gave his head the appearance of one of Titian's portraits. and believe nothing but what they should believe. pleaded. had now that pale color which produces. thick and black hair and beard. Ferdinand Street. open. he remembered a barber in St. now a barber would only be surprised if a man gifted with such advantages should consent voluntarily to deprive himself of them. and from their depths occasionally sparkled gloomy fires of misanthropy and hatred. subtle as he was. In this state of mutual understanding. Dantes had entered the Chateau d'If with the round. The oval face was lengthened. his eyebrows were arched beneath a brow furrowed with thought. it is possible that the Genoese was one of those shrewd persons who know nothing but what they should know. The Leghorn barber said nothing and went to work. was duped by Edmond. His comrades believed that his vow was fulfilled. and held stoutly to his first story. and who anticipates a future corresponding with his past. He was now. This was now all changed. At this period it was not the fashion to wear so large a beard and hair so long. in whose favor his mild demeanor. Thus the Genoese. and his admirable dissimulation. as he had not seen his own face for fourteen years. he was to find out whether he could recognize himself. and was now to find out what the man had become. smiling face of a young and happy man. his smiling mouth had assumed the firm and marked lines which betoken resolution. he asked for a hand−glass. as we have said. He had preserved a tolerably good remembrance of what the youth had been. three−and−thirty years of age. his nautical skill. his complexion. and his hair reduced to its usual length. and his fourteen years' imprisonment had produced a great transformation in his appearance. When the operation was concluded.Chapter 22 257 accurate descriptions of Naples and Malta. Moreover. As he had twenty times touched at Leghorn. they reached Leghorn. which he knew as well as Marseilles. he went there to have his beard and hair cut. his eyes were full of melancholy. the aristocratic . with whom the early paths of life have been smooth.

English powder. The master was to get all this out of Leghorn free of duties. and body soaking in seabrine. and at others rough and almost hoarse. and imprecations had changed it so that at times it was of a singularly penetrating sweetness. very obedient to their captain. indeed. or recognize in the neat and trim sailor the man with thick and matted beard. 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. It was in this costume. To the elegance of a nervous and slight form had succeeded the solidity of a rounded and muscular figure. his eyes had acquired the faculty of distinguishing objects in the night. contraband cottons. a striped shirt.Chapter 22 258 beauty of the man of the north. He had scarcely been a week at Leghorn before the hold of his vessel was filled with printed muslins. . The master of The Young Amelia. Moreover. had offered to advance him funds out of his future profits. he renewed his offers of an engagement to Dantes. but Dantes. The Young Amelia had a very active crew. and he had also acquired. and tobacco on which the excise had forgotten to put its mark. from being so long in twilight or darkness. and bringing back to Jacopo the shirt and trousers he had lent him. As to his voice. common to the hyena and the wolf. and a cap. being naturally of a goodly stature. Edmond smiled when he beheld himself: it was impossible that his best friend −− if. who lost as little time as possible. and consisting of white trousers. who had made him tell his story over and over again before he could believe him. would not agree for a longer time than three months. who had his own projects. which Edmond had accepted. sobs. he could not recognize himself. Attracted by his prepossessing appearance. that Edmond reappeared before the captain of the lugger. he had any friend left −− could recognize him. who was very desirous of retaining amongst his crew a man of Edmond's value. the profound learning he had acquired had besides diffused over his features a refined intellectual expression. hair tangled with seaweed. prayers. that vigor which a frame possesses which has so long concentrated all its force within itself. whom he had picked up naked and nearly drowned. very simple. as we all know.

what would the sailors say? What would the patron think? He must wait. which. for he had not forgotten a word. It was the Island of Monte Cristo. as they passed so closely to the island whose name was so interesting to him. The next morning going on deck. that he had only to leap into the sea and in half an hour be at the promised land. The next morn broke off the coast of Aleria. which the rising sun tinged with rosy light. without arms to defend himself? Besides. continued to behold it last of all. and which he had so often dreamed of in prison. and kept on for Corsica. Dantes noticed that the captain of The Young Amelia had. mounted two small culverins. for he remained alone upon deck. from one end to the other. and went towards the country of Paoli and Napoleon. as he neared the land. he had waited fourteen years for his liberty. had they not died with him? It is true. and Dantes repeated it to himself. the letter of the Cardinal Spada was singularly circumstantial. Would he not have accepted liberty without riches if it had been offered to him? Besides. Evening came. with vision accustomed to the gloom of a prison. where certain speculators undertook to forward the cargo to France. were not those riches chimerical? −− offspring of the brain of the poor Abbe Faria. But then what could he do without instruments to discover his treasure. Edmond was again cleaving the azure sea which had been the first horizon of his youth. and they came to within a gunshot of the shore. the patron found Dantes leaning against the bulwarks gazing with intense earnestness at a pile of granite rocks. Dantes had learned how to wait. and now he was free he could wait at least six months or a year for wealth. the position of these was no doubt a signal for landing. and then disappear in the darkness from all eyes but his own. for he. without making much noise. Fortunately. The Young Amelia left it three−quarters of a league to the larboard. all day they coasted. for a ship's lantern was hung up at the mast−head instead of the streamer. can throw a four ounce ball a . They sailed. Dantes thought. and in the evening saw fires lighted on land.Chapter 22 259 and land it on the shores of Corsica. He left Gorgone on his right and La Pianosa on his left. and Edmond saw the island tinged with the shades of twilight. as he always did at an early hour.

neither was it so wicked as Dantes thought it. A customs officer was laid low. moreover. thou art not an evil. and with what endurance he could bear suffering. There they had a bit of a skirmish in getting rid of the duties. no doubt. Four shallops came off with very little noise alongside the lugger. had believed him killed. where they intended to take in a cargo. such a man of regularity was the patron of The Young Amelia. and rushing towards him raised him up. He had contemplated danger with a smile. the excise was. and the five boats worked so well that by two o'clock in the morning all the cargo was out of The Young Amelia and on terra firma. This world was not then so good as Doctor Pangloss believed it. But the voyage was not ended. and when wounded had exclaimed with the great philosopher. sherry. The second operation was as successful as the first. and was moving towards the end he wished to achieve. Dantes was on the way he desired to follow. whether from heat of blood produced by the encounter. which was to replace what had been discharged. Dantes was one of the latter. seeing him fall. But on this occasion the precaution was superfluous. lowered her own shallop into the sea. "Pain. since this man. a ball having touched him in the left shoulder. in truth. who had nothing to . and each man had a hundred Tuscan livres. looked upon the customs officer wounded to death. Dantes was almost glad of this affray. They turned the bowsprit towards Sardinia. This new cargo was destined for the coast of the Duchy of Lucca. and almost pleased at being wounded. and. the everlasting enemy of the patron of The Young Amelia. or about eighty francs. the profits were divided. Jacopo. this sight had made but slight impression upon him. and consisted almost entirely of Havana cigars. or the chill of human sentiment. The same night. his heart was in a fair way of petrifying in his bosom. and Malaga wines. and everything proceeded with the utmost smoothness and politeness.Chapter 22 260 thousand paces or so. for they were rude lessons which taught him with what eye he could view danger." He had. and two sailors wounded. and then attended to him with all the kindness of a devoted comrade. in acknowledgement of the compliment. which. The Young Amelia was in luck.

but not once had he found an opportunity of landing there. "What is the use of teaching all these things to a poor sailor like me?" Edmond replied. and offered him in return for his attention a share of his prize−money. required no care but the hand of the helmsman. "Who knows? You may one day be the captain of a vessel. As soon as his engagement with the patron of The Young Amelia ended. explained to him the variations of the compass. the wound soon closed. he would hire a small vessel on his own account −− for in his several voyages . Two months and a half elapsed in these trips. who instinctively felt that Edmond had a right to superiority of position −− a superiority which Edmond had concealed from all others. and with certain herbs gathered at certain seasons. Fortunately. and learned all the Masonic signs by which these half pirates recognize each other. thanks to the favorable winds that swelled her sails. Bonaparte. and Edmond had become as skilful a coaster as he had been a hardy seaman. And when Jacopo inquired of him. Then in the long days on board ship. became the instructor of Jacopo. but Jacopo refused it indignantly. as the poor Abbe Faria had been his tutor. Edmond. became emperor. and where God writes in azure with letters of diamonds. As a result of the sympathetic devotion which Jacopo had from the first bestowed on Edmond. He pointed out to him the bearings of the coast. and taught him to read in that vast book opened over our heads which they call heaven. He had passed and re−passed his Island of Monte Cristo twenty times.Chapter 22 261 expect from his comrade but the inheritance of his share of the prize−money. the latter was moved to a certain degree of affection." We had forgotten to say that Jacopo was a Corsican. Edmond was only wounded. And from this time the kindness which Edmond showed him was enough for the brave seaman. gliding on with security over the azure sea. he had formed an acquaintance with all the smugglers on the coast. But this sufficed for Jacopo. and sold to the smugglers by the old Sardinian women. He then formed a resolution. as we have said. manifested so much sorrow when he saw him fall. Your fellow−countryman. when the vessel. Edmond then resolved to try Jacopo. with a chart in his hand.

and he was desirous of running no risk whatever. seemed to have been placed in the midst of the ocean since the time of the heathen Olympus by Mercury. but which antiquity appears to have included in the same category. But in vain did he rack his imagination. not perhaps entirely at liberty. and having neither soldiers nor revenue officers. where all the languages of the known world were jumbled in a lingua franca. fertile as it was. and seeing all these hardy free−traders. it had been decided that they should touch at Monte Cristo and set out on the following night. At the mention of Monte Cristo Dantes started with joy. classes of mankind which we in modern times have separated if not made distinct. The patron of The Young Amelia proposed as a place of landing the Island of Monte Cristo. was of . Already Dantes had visited this maritime Bourse two or three times. and took a turn around the smoky tavern.Chapter 22 262 he had amassed a hundred piastres −− and under some pretext land at the Island of Monte Cristo. If the venture was successful the profit would be enormous. But in this world we must risk something. took him by the arm one evening and led him to a tavern on the Via del' Oglio. who supplied the whole coast for nearly two hundred leagues in extent. Edmond. who had great confidence in him. and cashmeres. Then he would be free to make his researches. This time it was a great matter that was under discussion. and then to try and land these goods on the coast of France. being consulted. When he again joined the two persons who had been discussing the matter. which being completely deserted. there would be a gain of fifty or sixty piastres each for the crew. the god of merchants and robbers. Dantes was tossed about on these doubts and wishes. for he would be doubtless watched by those who accompanied him. when the patron. Prison had made Edmond prudent. connected with a vessel laden with Turkey carpets. 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. he could not devise any plan for reaching the island without companionship. and was very desirous of retaining him in his service. It was necessary to find some neutral ground on which an exchange could be made. where the leading smugglers of Leghorn used to congregate and discuss affairs connected with their trade. he rose to conceal his emotion. stuffs of the Levant.

with panels of rubies. If he closed his eyes. Dantes was about to secure the opportunity he wished for. and in its progress visions good and evil passed through Dantes' mind. when be discovered that his prizes had all changed into common pebbles. and. wonderstruck. as subterranean waters filter in their caves. All was useless. Nothing then was altered in the plan. and that great enterprises to be well done should be done quickly. One night more and he would be on his way.Chapter 23 263 opinion that the island afforded every possible security. and Dantes was then enabled to arrange a plan which had hitherto been vague and unsettled in his brain. to make the neutral island by the following day. but they had suddenly receded. Pearls fell drop by drop. and was almost as feverish as the night had been. 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. Night came. He ascended into grottos paved with emeralds. 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. amazed. He then endeavored to re−enter the marvellous grottos. Edmond. Thus. but it brought reason to the aid of imagination. by simple and natural means. and had again reverted to the genii from whom for a moment he had hoped to carry it off. and with it the . Chapter 23 The Island of Monte Cristo. and the roof glowing with diamond stalactites. wind and weather permitting. and then the entrance vanished. The night was one of feverish distraction. at length. The day came at length. and land on the island without incurring any suspicion. filled his pockets with the radiant gems and then returned to daylight. and orders were given to get under weigh next night. and now the path became a labyrinth. 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. the treasure disappeared.

and easy of execution. as he knew that he should shorten his course by two or three knots. and as his orders were always clear. This frequently happened. in spite of a sleepless night. his comrades obeyed him with celerity and pleasure. They were just abreast of Mareciana. When the patron awoke. and under the eye of heaven? Now this solitude was peopled with his thoughts. each of which is a world. the night lighted up by his illusions. and regretted that he had not a daughter. Two hours afterwards he came on deck. than that of a ship floating in isolation on the sea during the obscurity of the night. The peak of Monte Cristo reddened by the burning sun. and he would take the helm. and these preparations served to conceal Dantes' agitation. and what solitude is more complete. and the silence animated by his anticipations. frequently experienced an imperious desire for solitude. in order to leave La Pianosa to starboard. Dantes. and all went to their bunks contentedly. it was sufficient. The Island of Monte Cristo loomed large in the horizon. with a fresh breeze from the south−east. he could not close his eyes for a moment. He had by degrees assumed such authority over his companions that he was almost like a commander on board. or more poetical. Dantes ordered the helmsman to put down his helm. for he too had recognized the superiority of Dantes over the crew and himself. as the boat was about to double the Island of Elba. cast from solitude into the world. The old patron did not interfere. Dantes told them that all hands might turn in. the vessel was hurrying on with every sail set. The sea was calm. was seen against the azure sky. They were making nearly ten knots an hour. At seven o'clock in the evening all was ready. About five o'clock in . and. in the silence of immensity. and every sail full with the breeze. distinct. and at ten minutes past seven they doubled the lighthouse just as the beacon was kindled. but. in which God also lighted up in turn his beacon lights. When the Maltese (for so they called Dantes) had said this. and went and lay down in his hammock. Edmond resigned the lugger to the master's care.Chapter 23 264 preparation for departure. He saw in the young man his natural successor. that he might have bound Edmond to him by a more secure alliance. and beyond the flat but verdant Island of La Pianosa. they sailed beneath a bright blue sky.

"Where shall we pass the night?" he inquired. "None. Edmond gazed very earnestly at the mass of rocks which gave out all the variety of twilight colors. whose every wave she silvered. the grottos −− caves of the island. −− it was one of her regular haunts. "Should we not do better in the grottos?" "What grottos?" "Why. Night came." . and had he dared. are there no grottos at Monte Cristo?" he asked. and everything on it was plainly perceptible. As to Dantes. whose whole fortune is staked on one cast of the die. 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." It was dark. from the brightest pink to the deepest blue. and from time to time his cheeks flushed." replied the sailor." replied Jacopo. he had passed it on his voyage to and from the Levant. The Young Amelia was first at the rendezvous. and then. "ascending high. have "kissed his mother earth. In spite of his usual command over himself. on board the tartan. The island was familiar to the crew of The Young Amelia. and a mist passed over his eyes. He questioned Jacopo. "What." "I do not know of any grottos. and at ten o'clock they anchored. He was the first to jump on shore.Chapter 23 265 the evening the island was distinct. The cold sweat sprang forth on Dantes' brow. Dantes could not restrain his impetuosity. owing to that clearness of the atmosphere peculiar to the light which the rays of the sun cast at its setting. experience the anguish which Edmond felt in his paroxysms of hope. "Why. Never did gamester. he would. like Lucius Brutus. his brow darkened. but never touched at it.

assured by the answering signal that all was well. for the sake of greater security. to discover the hidden entrance. then he remembered that these caves might have been filled up by some accident. on the shout of joy which. No one had the slightest suspicion. and who were all busy preparing the repast which Edmond's skill as a marksman had augmented with a capital dish. as he worked. and Dantes did not oppose this. his minute observations and evident pre−occupation. and when ready to let him know by firing a gun. his painful past gave to his countenance an indelible sadness. his companions. Scarcely. a signal made half a league out at sea. however. or a desire for solitude. soon came in sight. he almost feared that he had already said too much. his wish was construed into a love of sport. The boat that now arrived. Having reached the summit of a rock. and to which The Young Amelia replied by a similar signal. and cast anchor within a cable's length of shore. Fortunately. Then the landing began. if he gave utterance to the one unchanging thought that pervaded his heart. far from disclosing this precious secret. aroused suspicions. then. . and shot. Jacopo insisted on following him. white and silent as a phantom. indicated that the moment for business had come. and when next day. It was useless to search at night. having killed a kid. but. This and some dried fruits and a flask of Monte Pulciano. he begged Jacopo to take it to his comrades. looking from time to time behind and around about him. Dantes went on. and by his restlessness and continual questions. he saw. with a single word. had they gone a quarter of a league when. was the bill of fare. and the glimmerings of gayety seen beneath this cloud were indeed but transitory. Dantes declared his intention to go and kill some of the wild goats that were seen springing from rock to rock. by Cardinal Spada. Dantes reflected. Besides. as regarded this circumstance at least. The point was. powder. a thousand feet beneath him. he could evoke from all these men. fearing if he did so that he might incur distrust. and request them to cook it. and Dantes therefore delayed all investigation until the morning. whom Jacopo had rejoined. or even stopped up. However. taking a fowling−piece.Chapter 23 266 For a moment Dantes was speechless.

Might it not have been the cardinal himself who had first traced them. At this moment hope makes me despise their riches. while limiting the power of man. and probably with a definite purpose. This solitary place was precisely suited to the requirements of a man desirous of burying treasure. The wise. has filled him with boundless desires." Thus Dantes. or beneath parasitical lichen. he thought he could trace. Yet perchance to−morrow deception will so act on me. in all human probability. marks made by the hand of man. as it invests all things of the mind with forgetfulness. then they will return with a fortune of six hundred francs. The cause was not in Dantes. consider such a contemptible possession as the utmost happiness. and examining the smallest object with serious attention. it were better to die than to continue to lead this low and wretched life. So Edmond had to separate the branches or brush away the moss to know where the guide−marks were. and which. unerring Faria could not be mistaken in this one thing. Keeping along the shore. which seem to me contemptible. who but three months before had no desire but liberty had now not liberty enough. by a cleft between two walls of rock. Occasionally the marks were hidden under tufts of myrtle. "that will not be. human foot had never before trod. might not these betraying marks have attracted other eyes than those . and panted for wealth. Besides. Oh. "In two hours' time. in order that they might serve as a guide for his nephew in the event of a catastrophe. on compulsion. which he could not foresee would have been so complete. following a path worn by a torrent.Chapter 23 267 Edmond looked at them for a moment with the sad and gentle smile of a man superior to his fellows. Time. who. Dantes approached the spot where he supposed the grottos must have existed. and waste this treasure in some city with the pride of sultans and the insolence of nabobs. that I shall. no!" exclaimed Edmond. to go and risk their lives again by endeavoring to gain fifty more. but in providence. which apparently had been made with some degree of regularity. "these persons will depart richer by fifty piastres each. Meanwhile. Only. which spread into large bushes laden with blossoms. The sight of marks renewed Edmond fondest hopes. which encrusts all physical substances with its mossy mantle." said he. seemed to have respected these signs. on certain rocks.

As for himself.Chapter 23 268 for whom they were made? and had the dark and wondrous island indeed faithfully guarded its precious secret? It seemed. complained of great pain in his knee. had got some water from a spring. They all rushed towards him. they saw Edmond springing with the boldness of a chamois from rock to rock. nor did they terminate at any grotto. Edmond's foot slipped. But even while they watched his daring progress. that he could not bear to be moved. was the only spot to which they seemed to lead. placed solidly on its base. It may be supposed that Dantes did not now think of his dinner. Meanwhile his comrades had prepared the repast. with heavy groans. An hour afterwards they . and ran quickly towards them. They wished to carry him to the shore. who had not his reasons for fasting. and they fired the signal agreed upon. A large round rock. The sailors did not require much urging. He found Edmond lying prone. Edmond opened his eyes. he declared. but he insisted that his comrades. produced the same effect as formerly. and that when they returned he should be easier. The sportsman instantly changed his direction. He had rolled down a declivity of twelve or fifteen feet. Just at the moment when they were taking the dainty animal from the spit. a feeling of heaviness in his head. spread out the fruit and bread. and almost senseless. that at sixty paces from the harbor the marks ceased. and severe pains in his loins. to Edmond. They were hungry. and this remedy which had before been so beneficial to him. should have their meal. and they saw him stagger on the edge of a rock and disappear. They poured a little rum down his throat. but when they touched him. for all loved Edmond in spite of his superiority. and your tars are not very ceremonious. and cooked the kid. and he therefore turned round and retraced his steps. yet Jacopo reached him first. however. bleeding. and the smell of the roasted kid was very savory. he declared that he had only need of a little rest. Edmond concluded that perhaps instead of having reached the end of the route he had only explored its beginning. who was hidden from his comrades by the inequalities of the ground. although under Jacopo's directions.

" said the patron. he is an excellent fellow." said the commander. But. We will try and carry him on board the tartan. a gun. "We cannot leave you here so. and we must not leave him. Edmond made great exertions in order to comply. not one opposed it. urged Dantes to try and rise. powder. "I was awkward." said the patron. or even delay in its execution. "He has broken his ribs." "But you'll die of hunger. would be ready for sea when her toilet should be completed. "let what may happen. "No. All that Edmond had been able to do was to drag himself about a dozen paces forward to lean against a moss−grown rock. "Well. and it is just that I pay the penalty of my clumsiness. go!" exclaimed Dantes. who was obliged to sail in the morning in order to land his cargo on the frontiers of Piedmont and France." was Edmond reply. which was rolling on the swell in the little harbor. between Nice and Frejus. "No matter. Dantes' pains appeared to increase in violence. "What are we to do. no. that he would rather die where he was than undergo the agony which the slightest movement cost him. instead of growing easier." This very much astonished the sailors. with sails partly set. moaning and turning pale. and yet we cannot stay. "than suffer the inexpressible agonies which the slightest movement causes me. and balls." "Go." The patron turned towards his vessel. Maltese?" asked the captain. "I would rather do so. We will not go till evening. The old patron. to kill the kids or defend myself at need. Dantes would not allow that any such infraction of regular and proper rules should be made in his favor." Dantes declared." he said to the patron. that I may build a shelter if you delay in coming back for me. in a low voice. and. .Chapter 23 269 returned. and a pickaxe. although. Leave me a small supply of biscuit. however. it shall never be said that we deserted a good comrade like you. but at each effort he fell back. The patron was so strict that this was the first time they had ever seen him give up an enterprise.

"Do you go." The patron shook his head. "if in two or three days you hail any fishing−boat. to which Edmond replied with his hand only. but not without turning about several times." replied Edmond. and each time making signs of a cordial farewell. If you do not come across one. desire them to come here to me." said Jacopo. weigh anchor. as if he could not move the rest of his body. A day or two of rest will set me up. from which he had a full view of the sea. "Listen. Captain Baldi. it was impossible for the wounded man to see her any longer from the spot where he was. Then." said Dantes. "and without any hesitation. "to remain with me?" "Yes. I will pay twenty−five piastres for my passage back to Leghorn. set sail. "and then we must run out of our course to come here and take you up again. but I do not wish any one to stay with me. and thence he saw the tartan complete her preparations for sailing.Chapter 23 270 "We shall be absent at least a week. At the end of an hour she was completely out of sight. there's one way of settling this." said Edmond. and I hope I shall find among the rocks certain herbs most excellent for bruises. at least." said the patron." said Jacopo. Then Dantes rose more agile and light than the kid among the myrtles and shrubs of these wild rocks. The smugglers left with Edmond what he had requested and set sail. balancing herself as gracefully as a water−fowl ere it takes to the wing. −− "'Tis strange that it should be among such men that we find proofs of friendship and devotion. and I will stay and take care of the wounded man. "and heaven will recompense you for your generous intentions. he said with a smile. took his gun in one ." A peculiar smile passed over Dantes' lips." "And give up your share of the venture. return for me." "Why." "You are a good fellow and a kind−hearted messmate. but nothing could shake his determination to remain −− and remain alone. when they had disappeared. he squeezed Jacopo's hand warmly." Then he dragged himself cautiously to the top of a rock. and.

which seemed themselves sensible of the heat. mounted to the summit of the highest rock. In a word. He felt an indescribable sensation somewhat akin to dread −− that dread of the daylight which even in the desert makes us fear we are watched and observed. chirped with a monotonous and dull note. seized his gun. afar off he saw the wild goats bounding from crag to crag. his pickaxe in the other. He saw that he was on the highest point of the island. The sun had nearly reached the meridian. yet Edmond felt himself alone. the very houses of which he could distinguish. and from thence gazed round in every direction. while the blue ocean beat against the . with its historical associations. "now. that Edmond fixed his eyes. and his scorching rays fell full on the rocks. This feeling was so strong that at the moment when Edmond was about to begin his labor. hidden in the bushes. It was at the brigantine that had left in the morning. guided by the hand of God. The first was just disappearing in the straits of Bonifacio. 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. At every step that Edmond took he disturbed the lizards glittering with the hues of the emerald. the leaves of the myrtle and olive trees waved and rustled in the wind. and the tartan that had just set sail. the island was inhabited. which Faria had related to him. that he gazed. open sesame!" Chapter 24 The Secret Cave. But it was not upon Corsica. Thousands of grasshoppers. or on Sardinia." he exclaimed.Chapter 24 271 hand. laid down his pickaxe. He then looked at the objects near him. and Leghorn the commercial. "And now. following an opposite direction. he stopped. or on the Island of Elba. −− a statue on this vast pedestal of granite. and hastened towards the rock on which the marks he had noted terminated. the other. nothing human appearing in sight. remembering the tale of the Arabian fisherman. This sight reassured him.

anxious not to be watched. and a hole large enough to insert the arm was opened. and . But the rock was too heavy. with his pickaxe. concealed his little barque. He attacked this wall. have been lifted to this spot. It was this idea that had brought Dantes back to the circular rock. A large stone had served as a wedge. had entered the creek. flints and pebbles had been inserted around it. How could this rock. Then he descended with cautious and slow step. were he Hercules himself. in the hands of the Abbe Faria. Dantes dug away the earth carefully. Dantes. inserted it in the hole. and he had noticed that they led to a small creek. Dantes went and cut the strongest olive−tree he could find. they have lowered it. the ingenious artifice. and detected. which weighed several tons. One thing only perplexed Edmond. for he dreaded lest an accident similar to that he had so adroitly feigned should happen in reality. After ten minutes' labor the wall gave way.Chapter 24 272 base of the island. He soon perceived that a slope had been formed. thought he. and at the end of it had buried his treasure. myrtle−bushes had taken root. and too firmly wedged. had been so skilfully used to guide him through the Daedalian labyrinth of probabilities. Dantes saw that he must attack the wedge. followed the line marked by the notches in the rock. which would be perfectly concealed from observation. and used it as a lever. cemented by the hand of time. and grass and weeds had grown there. But how? He cast his eyes around. he thought that the Cardinal Spada. Instead of raising it. or fancied he detected. had traced the marks along the rocks. stripped off its branches. and the old rock seemed fixed to the earth. this species of masonry had been covered with earth. so as to conceal the orifice. and covered it with a fringe of foam. without the aid of many men? Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind. and the rock had slid along this until it stopped at the spot it now occupied. This creek was sufficiently wide at its mouth. as we have said. which was hidden like the bath of some ancient nymph. moss had clung to the stones. to be moved by any one man. Then following the clew that. to admit of the entrance of a small vessel of the lugger class. And he sprang from the rock in order to inspect the base on which it had formerly stood. and destroyed his theory. and deep in the centre.

On the spot it had occupied was a circular space. He would fain have continued. The explosion soon followed. Dantes approached the upper rock. and reflected. This feeling lasted but for a moment. after having been elated by flattering hopes. who uprooted the mountains to hurl against the father of the gods. the Cardinal Spada buried no treasure here. then. which now. I am accustomed to adversity. "Come. or if he did. Dantes. and strained every nerve to move the mass. filled it with powder. and disclosed steps that descended until they were lost in the obscurity of a subterraneous grotto. thousands of insects escaped from the aperture Dantes had previously formed. dug a mine between the upper rock and the one that supported it.Chapter 24 273 saw the horn full of powder which his friend Jacopo had left him. and a huge snake. Dantes turned pale. selecting the spot from whence it appeared most susceptible to attack. With the aid of his pickaxe. leaned towards the sea. tottered on its base. never had a first attempt been crowned with more perfect success. and his sight became so dim. and. Any one else would have rushed on with a cry of joy. the flag−stone yielded. I must not be cast down by the discovery that I have been deceived. perhaps he never came here. and finally disappeared in the ocean. and his heart beat so violently. The rock. that he was forced to pause. already shaken by the explosion. the infernal invention would serve him for this purpose. would be the use of all I have suffered? The heart breaks when. "be a man. after the manner of a labor−saving pioneer. hesitated. and disappeared. exposing an iron ring let into a square flag−stone. What. Edmond inserted his lever in the ring and exerted all his strength. He smiled. without any support. The rock yielded. he seemed like one of the ancient Titans. The intrepid treasure−seeker walked round it. the lower one flew into pieces. it sees all its illusions destroyed. rolled himself along in darkening coils. Dantes redoubled his efforts. then made a match by rolling his handkerchief in saltpetre. the upper rock was lifted from its base by the terrific force of the powder. like the guardian demon of the treasure. He lighted it and retired. Caesar Borgia. Faria has dreamed this. rolled over. bounded from point to point. Dantes uttered a cry of joy and surprise. the . but his knees trembled. placed his lever in one of the crevices." said he to himself.

raised the stone. discovered his traces. "he would have found the treasure." replied he. this is an adventure worthy a place in the varied career of that royal bandit. dispelling the darkness before his awe−inspiring progress. "Now that I expect nothing. entered. as well as the air. I will go down. perhaps two guards kept watch on land and sea. and the thick and mephitic atmosphere he had expected to find. a smile on his lips." thought Dantes." Then he descended. "of those who buried Alaric. Dantes' eye. and within twenty paces. which. Yes.Chapter 24 274 intrepid adventurer. "Perhaps!" But instead of the darkness. but by the interstices and crevices of the rock which were visible from without. not merely by the aperture he had just formed. ." He remained motionless and pensive. while their master descended. pursued them as I have done." And he remained again motionless and thoughtful. the stealthy and indefatigable plunderer. "Yes. smiling. "The fate. This fabulous event formed but a link in a long chain of marvels. now that I no longer entertain the slightest hopes. had he come. and murmuring that last word of human philosophy. has followed him. has left me nothing. a torch in one hand. Borgia has been here. his eyes fixed on the gloomy aperture that was open at his feet." "But what was the fate of the guards who thus possessed his secret?" asked Dantes of himself. which he could devour leaf by leaf. knew too well the value of time to waste it in replacing this rock. at the foot of this rock." "Yet. and the tendrils of the creepers that grew from the rocks. a sword in the other. the atmosphere of which was rather warm than damp. yes. After having stood a few minutes in the cavern. Dantes saw a dim and bluish light. as I am about to descend. and through which he could distinguish the blue sky and the waving branches of the evergreen oaks. and Borgia. the end of this adventure becomes simply a matter of curiosity. he who compared Italy to an artichoke. and descending before me.

and the good abbe. "In the farthest angle of the second opening. alleging to himself. passed his hand over his brow." said Edmond. "Alas. But by some strange play of emotion. which entered someway between the interstices. in proportion as the proofs that Faria. returned to that part of the wall whence issued the consoling sound he had before heard. exposing a large white stone. had not been deceived became stronger. he. The pickaxe struck for a moment with a dull sound that drew out of Dantes' forehead large drops of perspiration. could pierce even to the remotest angles of the cavern. He again struck it. Dantes struck with the sharp end of his pickaxe. However. He had only found the first grotto. This last proof. in all probability. At last it seemed to him that one part of the wall gave forth a more hollow and deeper echo. It was there he must dig. He reflected that this second grotto must penetrate deeper into the island. and sounded one part of the wall where he fancied the opening existed. and a feeling of discouragement stole over him. so did his heart give way. but in reality because he felt that he was about to faint. As he struck the wall. struck the earth with the butt of his gun. knew the value of time.Chapter 24 275 habituated as it was to darkness. he sounded all the other walls with his pickaxe. and. The aperture of the rock had been closed with stones. saw that there. and with the quickness of perception that no one but a prisoner possesses. masked for precaution's sake. he examined the stones." But he called to mind the words of the will. and remounted the stairs. Then a singular thing occurred. which was of granite that sparkled like diamonds. instead of giving him fresh strength. The . he eagerly advanced. pieces of stucco similar to that used in the ground work of arabesques broke off. smiling. in order to avoid fruitless toil. the opening must be. has indulged in fallacious hopes." said the cardinal's will. then this stucco had been applied. like Caesar Borgia. deprived him of it. a desire to be assured that no one was watching him. and painted to imitate granite. the pickaxe descended. Dantes continued his search. and with greater force. "these are the treasures the cardinal has left. seeing in a dream these glittering walls. and fell to the ground in flakes. as an excuse. and finding nothing that appeared suspicious. he placed it on the ground. which he knew by heart. or rather fell. he had now to seek the second.

and again entered the cavern. sprang through the opening. Dantes had tasted nothing. and using the handle as a lever. The treasure. but had been merely placed one upon the other. if it existed. and fall at his feet. he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum. The pickaxe that had seemed so heavy. This would have been a favorable occasion to secure his dinner. He advanced towards the angle. he seized it. but he thought not of hunger at such a moment. a few small fishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean. and covered with stucco. At last. He again struck his pickaxe into the earth. He waited in order to allow pure air to displace the foul atmosphere. he inserted the point of his pickaxe. attacked the ground with the pickaxe. and was feeding at a little distance. produce a greater effect on the hearer. and attacked the wall. and summoning all his resolution. and encountered the same resistance. Had Dantes found nothing he could not have become more ghastly pale. Dantes seized his gun. was buried in this corner. and the sun seemed to cover it with its fiery glance. with joy soon saw the stone turn as if on hinges. . it was. was now like a feather in his grasp. but by waiting. At this moment a shadow passed rapidly before the opening. The aperture was already sufficiently large for him to enter.Chapter 24 276 island was deserted. 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. after renewed hesitation. At the left of the opening was a dark and deep angle. afar off. A wild goat had passed before the mouth of the cave. he could still cling to hope. and retard the certainty of deception. and Dantes' fate would be decided. like the first. but with the iron tooth of the pickaxe to draw the stones towards him one by one. After several blows he perceived that the stones were not cemented. but not the same sound. The second grotto was lower and more gloomy than the first. At the fifth or sixth blow the pickaxe struck against an iron substance. Dantes entered the second grotto. never did alarm−bell. and then went on. Never did funeral knell. He had nothing more to do now. He glanced around this second grotto. The time had at length arrived. but Dantes feared lest the report of his gun should attract attention. But to Dantes' eye there was no darkness. "It is a casket of wood bound with iron. two feet of earth removed." thought he. and mounted the stair. empty.

with the aid of the torch. it was impossible. There was no longer any doubt: the treasure was there −− no one would have been at such pains to conceal an empty casket. In an instant he had cleared every obstacle away. felt. 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. He wished to see everything. In the first. pale. The hinges yielded in their turn and fell. were ranged bars of unpolished gold. blazed piles of golden coin. Dantes easily recognized them. After having touched. He was alone −− alone with these countless. and pressing with all his force on the handle. these faithful guardians seemed unwilling to surrender their trust. and the two handles at each end. and surmounted by a cardinal's hat. Dantes inserted the sharp end of the pickaxe between the coffer and the lid. He planted his torch in the ground and resumed his labor. lock and padlock were fastened. burst open the fastenings. Dantes seized the handles. then he re−opened them. and he saw successively the lock. bound with cut steel. he leaped on a rock. pearls. cut a branch of a resinous tree. He approached the hole he had dug. and stood motionless with amazement. on an oval shield. all carved as things were carved at that epoch. which. Edmond was seized with vertigo. and strove to lift the coffer.. still holding in their grasp fragments of the wood. Edmond grasped handfuls of diamonds. sounded like hail against glass. in the middle of the lid he saw engraved on a silver plate. when art rendered the commonest metals precious. and descended with this torch. and rubies. He sought to open it. Faria had so often drawn them for him. from whence he could behold the sea. and now. he cocked his gun and laid it beside him. in the second.Chapter 24 277 He thought a moment. which was still untarnished. placed between two padlocks. the arms of the Spada family −− viz. and Dantes could see an oaken coffer. lighted it at the fire at which the smugglers had prepared their breakfast. in the third. examined these treasures. In an instant a space three feet long by two feet broad was cleared. and the chest was open. saw that his pickaxe had in reality struck against iron and wood. a sword. which possessed nothing attractive save their value. Edmond rushed through the caverns like a man seized with frenzy. Three compartments divided the coffer. these unheard−of treasures! was he awake. or . as they fell on one another. like all the Italian armorial bearings.

Again he climbed the rocky height he had ascended the previous evening. each worth about eighty francs of our money. then he returned. and fearing to be surprised in the cavern.Chapter 25 278 was it but a dream? He would fain have gazed upon his gold. and bearing the effigies of Alexander VI. and. and strained his view to catch every peculiarity of the landscape. mounted by the most famous workmen. Day. There were a thousand ingots of gold. for which Dantes had so eagerly and impatiently waited with open eyes. And he measured ten double handfuls of pearls. With the first light Dantes resumed his search. uttered a prayer intelligible to God alone. for an instant he leaned his head in his hands as if to prevent his senses from leaving him. diamonds. then he piled up twenty−five thousand crowns. Chapter 25 The Unknown. He then set himself to work to count his fortune. and then rushed madly about the rocks of Monte Cristo. again dawned. many of which. but it wore the . each weighing from two to three pounds. A piece of biscuit and a small quantity of rum formed his supper. and yet he had not strength enough. and he saw that the complement was not half empty. Dantes saw the light gradually disappear. terrifying the wild goats and scaring the sea−fowls with his wild cries and gestures. and his predecessors. clasping his hands convulsively. and found himself before this mine of gold and jewels. still unable to believe the evidence of his senses. This time he fell on his knees. left it. his gun in his hand. and he snatched a few hours' sleep. and. lying over the mouth of the cave. He soon became calmer and more happy. such as this man of stupendous emotions had already experienced twice or thrice in his lifetime. and other gems. were valuable beyond their intrinsic worth. It was a night of joy and terror. for only now did he begin to realize his felicity. rushed into the grotto.

fortunately. On the sixth day. when they could but lament the absence of Dantes. filling the interstices with earth. From a distance Dantes recognized the rig and handling of The Young Amelia. filled his pockets with gems. and then carefully trod down the earth to give it everywhere a uniform appearance. although considerably better than when they quitted him. he lifted the stone. This done. sprinkled fresh sand over the spot from which it had been taken. the smugglers returned. such as the wild myrtle and flowering thorn. and to assume the rank. the trip had been sufficiently successful to satisfy all concerned. 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 scrupulously effaced every trace of footsteps. put the box together as well and securely as he could. To this question the smugglers replied that. while the crew. and so elude all further pursuit. although successful in landing their cargo in safety. He then inquired how they had fared in their trip. he met his companions with an assurance that. In fact. then carefully watering these new plantations. he impatiently awaited the return of his companions. power. barren aspect when seen by the rays of the morning sun which it had done when surveyed by the fading glimmer of eve. This obliged them to make all the speed they could to evade the enemy. the pursuing vessel had almost overtaken them when. and dragging himself with affected difficulty towards the landing−place. however. and particularly Jacopo. and influence which are always accorded to wealth −− that first and greatest of all the forces within the grasp of man. Descending into the grotto. and enabled them to double the Cape of Corsica. he replaced the stone. night came on. they had scarcely done so when they received intelligence that a guard−ship had just quitted the port of Toulon and was crowding all sail towards them. heaping on it broken masses of rocks and rough fragments of crumbling granite. which yearned to return to dwell among mankind. leaving the approach to the cavern as savage−looking and untrodden as he had found it. into which he deftly inserted rapidly growing plants. he still suffered acutely from his late accident. whose superior skill in the management of a vessel would have availed them so materially. quitting the grotto. then. Upon the whole.Chapter 25 279 same wild. expressed great regrets that Dantes had not been an equal sharer with .

accompanying the gift by a donation of one hundred piastres. Arrived at Leghorn. but having been told the history of the legacy. The following morning Jacopo set sail for Marseilles. and also a young woman called Mercedes. left him by an uncle. The following day Dantes presented Jacopo with an entirely new vessel. not suffering the faintest indication of a smile to escape him at the enumeration of all the benefits he would have reaped had he been able to quit the island. Edmond preserved the most admirable self−command. that he might provide himself with a suitable crew and other requisites for his outfit. but as The Young Amelia had merely come to Monte Cristo to fetch him away. 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 ceased to importune him further. upon condition that he would go at once to Marseilles for the purpose of inquiring after an old man named Louis Dantes. whose sole heir he was. with directions from Dantes to join him at the Island of Monte Cristo. . The term for which Edmond had engaged to serve on board The Young Amelia having expired. Dantes half feared that such valuable jewels in the hands of a poor sailor like himself might excite suspicion. which Dantes hastened to account for by saying that he had merely been a sailor from whim and a desire to spite his family. residing in the Allees de Meillan. Jacopo could scarcely believe his senses at receiving this magnificent present. he embarked that same evening. to whom he disposed of four of his smallest diamonds for five thousand francs each. he repaired to the house of a Jew. who at first tried all his powers of persuasion to induce him to remain as one of the crew. who did not allow him as much money as he liked to spend. a dealer in precious stones. Dantes took leave of the captain.Chapter 25 280 themselves in the profits. but the cunning purchaser asked no troublesome questions concerning a bargain by which he gained a round profit of at least eighty per cent. but that on his arrival at Leghorn he had come into possession of a large fortune. an inhabitant of the Catalan village. and proceeded with the captain to Leghorn. which amounted to no less a sum than fifty piastres each.

Dantes proceeded to make his final adieus on board The Young Amelia. the more so as the person for whom the yacht was intended had gone upon a tour through Switzerland. To the captain he promised to write when he had made up his mind as to his future plans. Then Dantes departed for Genoa. retired with the latter for a few minutes to a small back parlor. the closet to contain three divisions. A bargain was therefore struck. but this Dantes declined with many thanks. Dantes led the owner of the yacht to the dwelling of a Jew. 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. The following day Dantes sailed with his yacht from Genoa. under the inspection of an immense crowd drawn together by curiosity to see the rich . and expressions of cordial interest in all that concerned him. who. The builder cheerfully undertook the commission. so constructed as to be concealed from all but himself. applied to its owner to transfer it to him. was desirous of possessing a specimen of their skill. having heard that the Genoese excelled all other builders along the shores of the Mediterranean in the construction of fast−sailing vessels. upon condition that he should be allowed to take immediate possession. The delighted builder then offered his services in providing a suitable crew for the little vessel. Dantes. this yacht had been built by order of an Englishman. distributing so liberal a gratuity among her crew as to secure for him the good wishes of all. and promised to have these secret places completed by the next day. saying he was accustomed to cruise about quite alone. offering sixty thousand francs. and upon their return the Jew counted out to the shipbuilder the sum of sixty thousand francs in bright gold pieces. and his principal pleasure consisted in managing his yacht himself. by which time the builder reckoned upon being able to complete another.Chapter 25 281 Having seen Jacopo fairly out of the harbor. struck with the beauty and capability of the little vessel. and was not expected back in less than three weeks or a month. Dantes furnishing the dimensions and plan in accordance with which they were to be constructed. the price agreed upon between the Englishman and the Genoese builder was forty thousand francs. The proposal was too advantageous to be refused. At the moment of his arrival a small yacht was under trial in the bay.

and Mercedes had disappeared. but no one thought of Monte Cristo. The island was utterly deserted. studying it as a skilful horseman would the animal he destined for some important service. seemed to be animated with almost human intelligence. and had come the distance from Genoa in thirty−five hours. bets were offered to any amount that she was bound for Spain. instead of landing at the usual place. his boat had proved herself a first−class sailer. He immediately signalled it. A week passed by. The spectators followed the little vessel with their eyes as long as it remained visible. His signal was returned. Dantes listened to these melancholy tidings with outward calmness. Old Dantes was dead. others the Island of Elba. Early on the following morning he commenced the removal of his riches. A mournful answer awaited each of Edmond's eager inquiries as to the information Jacopo had obtained. his treasure was just as he had left it.Chapter 25 282 Spanish nobleman who preferred managing his own yacht. he recognized it as the boat he had given to Jacopo. and. The former Dantes proposed to augment. Yet thither it was that Dantes guided his vessel. the latter to remedy. . and bore no evidence of having been visited since he went away. they then turned their conjectures upon her probable destination. Dantes employed it in manoeuvring his yacht round the island. and Dantes required but a short trial of his beautiful craft to acknowledge that the Genoese had not without reason attained their high reputation in the art of shipbuilding. The boat. indeed. so promptly did it obey the slightest touch. But their wonder was soon changed to admiration at seeing the perfect skill with which Dantes handled the helm. and ere nightfall the whole of his immense wealth was safely deposited in the compartments of the secret locker. Some insisted she was making for Corsica. but. he dropped anchor in the little creek. As it drew near. and in two hours afterwards the newcomer lay at anchor beside the yacht. while Africa was positively reported by many persons as her intended course. and at Monte Cristo he arrived at the close of the second day. till at the end of that time he was perfectly conversant with its good and bad qualities. Dantes had carefully noted the general appearance of the shore. Upon the eighth day he discerned a small vessel under full sail approaching Monte Cristo.

Dantes could not give sufficiently clear instructions to an agent. on the never−to−be−forgotten night of his departure for the Chateau d'If. The first person to attract the attention of Dantes. he signified his desire to be quite alone. but not a word or look implied that he had the slightest idea of ever having seen before the person with whom he was then conversing. his yacht. Without divulging his secret. that he ran no risk of recognition. For his father's death he was in some manner prepared. and anchored exactly opposite the spot from whence. There were. carefully watching the man's countenance as he did so. but ere he had gone many steps he . His looking−glass had assured him. was one of the crew belonging to the Pharaon. boldly entered the port of Marseilles. 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. he propounded a variety of questions on different subjects. besides. Going straight towards him. and those were of a nature he alone could investigate in a manner satisfactory to himself. he was informed that there existed no obstacle to his immediate debarkation. he had now the means of adopting any disguise he thought proper. then. followed by the little fishing−boat. 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. during his stay at Leghorn. and he gave orders that she should be steered direct to Marseilles.Chapter 25 283 leaping lightly ashore. he had been put on board the boat destined to convey him thither. and as this gave him a standing which a French passport would not have afforded. other particulars he was desirous of ascertaining. Giving the sailor a piece of money in return for his civility. Dantes coolly presented an English passport he had obtained from Leghorn. moreover. but with that perfect self−possession he had acquired during his acquaintance with Faria. In a couple of hours he returned. as he landed on the Canebiere. One fine morning. but he knew not how to account for the mysterious disappearance of Mercedes. Two of the men from Jacopo's boat came on board the yacht to assist in navigating it.

" said the honest fellow. Dantes succeeded in inducing the man to go up to the tenants. meanwhile.Chapter 25 284 heard the man loudly calling him to stop." was his comment. whose receding figure he continued to gaze after in speechless astonishment. however. as you say. and be able to ask your messmates to join you." So extreme was the surprise of the sailor. Each step he trod oppressed his heart with fresh emotion. he would inevitably have fallen to the ground and been crushed beneath the many vehicles continually passing there. went on his way. which his father had delighted to train before his window. Dantes instantly turned to meet him. a mist floated over his sight. not a tree. his first and most indelible recollections were there. but by way of rewarding your honesty I give you another double Napoleon. he wiped the perspiration from his brows. from whence a full view of the Allees de Meillan was obtained. At this spot." "Thank you. "but I believe you made a mistake. and had he not clung for support to one of the trees. "Some nabob from India. he begged so earnestly to be permitted to visit those on the fifth floor. in despite of the oft−repeated assurance of the concierge that they were occupied. his heart beat almost to bursting. that you may drink to my health. Then he advanced to the door. not a street. The nasturtiums and other plants. and stopped not again till he found himself at the door of the house in which his father had lived. Recovering himself. sir. my good friend. he gazed thoughtfully for a time at the upper stories of the shabby little house. you gave me a double Napoleon. had all disappeared from the upper part of the house. "I beg your pardon. that he passed but seemed filled with dear and cherished memories. and ask permission for a gentleman to be allowed to look at them. and see. in almost breathless haste. so pregnant with fond and filial remembrances. his knees tottered under him. Leaning against the tree. And thus he proceeded onwards till he arrived at the end of the Rue de Noailles. . Though answered in the negative. and asked whether there were any rooms to be let. I see that I have made a trifling mistake. that he was unable even to thank Edmond. Dantes. that. you intended to give me a two−franc piece.

at least ten thousand more than it was worth. and wondered to see the large tears silently chasing each other down his otherwise stern and immovable features. in spite of his efforts to prevent it. now become the property of Dantes. for reply. The bed belonging to the present occupants was placed as the former owner of the chamber had been accustomed to have his. As Edmond passed the door on the fourth floor. while. that the person in question had got into difficulties. the very paper was different. When he withdrew from the scene of his painful recollections. purchased the small dwelling for the sum of twenty−five thousand francs. were duly informed by the notary who had arranged the necessary transfer of deeds. it would unhesitatingly have been given. and. but he received.. they both accompanied him downstairs. without the least augmentation of rent. . etc. Dantes sighed heavily. and kindly refrained from questioning him as to its cause. under the name of Lord Wilmore (the name and title inscribed on his passport). upon condition of their giving instant possession of the two small chambers they at present inhabited. the four walls alone remained as he had left them. and assuring him that their poor dwelling would ever be open to him. but had its owner asked half a million.Chapter 25 285 The tenants of the humble lodging were a young couple who had been scarcely married a week. with instinctive delicacy. and. that the new landlord gave them their choice of any of the rooms in the house. he paused to inquire whether Caderousse the tailor still dwelt there. Dantes next proceeded thither. they left him to indulge his sorrow alone. reiterating their hope that he would come again whenever he pleased. vainly calling for his son. The very same day the occupants of the apartments on the fifth floor of the house. The young couple gazed with astonishment at the sight of their visitor's emotion. and seeing them. but they felt the sacredness of his grief. Having obtained the address of the person to whom the house in the Allees de Meillan belonged. while the articles of antiquated furniture with which the rooms had been filled in Edmond's time had all disappeared. the eyes of Edmond were suffused in tears as he reflected that on that spot the old man had breathed his last. Nothing in the two small chambers forming the apartments remained as it had been in the time of the elder Dantes. and at the present time kept a small inn on the route from Bellegarde to Beaucaire.

while. −− a small roadside inn.Chapter 26 286 This strange event aroused great wonder and curiosity in the neighborhood of the Allees de Meillan. A few dingy olives and stunted fig−trees struggled hard for existence. But on the following day the family from whom all these particulars had been asked received a handsome present. The delighted recipients of these munificent gifts would gladly have poured out their thanks to their generous benefactor. merely give some orders to a sailor. consisting of an entirely new fishing−boat. but they had seen him. and eschalots. on the side opposite to the main entrance reserved for the reception of guests. a tall pine raised its melancholy head in one of the corners of this . and a multitude of theories were afloat. from the front of which hung. like a forgotten sentinel. but their withered dusty foliage abundantly proved how unequal was the conflict. This modern place of entertainment stood on the left−hand side of the post road. consisting of a small plot of ground. leave Marseilles by the Porte d'Aix. with two seines and a tender. and backed upon the Rhone. 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. Between these sickly shrubs grew a scanty supply of garlic. about midway between the town of Beaucaire and the village of Bellegarde. and afterwards observed to enter a poor fisherman's hut. Such of my readers as have made a pedestrian excursion to the south of France may perchance have noticed. tomatoes. upon quitting the hut. a sheet of tin covered with a grotesque representation of the Pont du Gard. But what raised public astonishment to a climax. and set all conjecture at defiance. It also boasted of what in Languedoc is styled a garden. −− a little nearer to the former than to the latter. none of which was anywhere near the truth. and then springing lightly on horseback. 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. lone and solitary. Chapter 26 The Pont du Gard Inn. creaking and flapping in the wind.

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. of which we have given a brief but faithful description. In the surrounding plain. was pale. −− a chambermaid named Trinette. whose utter ruin it was fast accomplishing. yet there he stood. meagre. for a canal between Beaucaire and Aiguemortes had revolutionized transportation by substituting boats for the cart and the stagecoach. and a hostler called Pecaud. Each stalk served as a perch for a grasshopper. His wife. he had dark. was thick and curly. not a hundred steps from the inn. with two servants. hooked nose. which regaled the passers by through this Egyptian scene with its strident. monotonous note. 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. strong. which more resembled a dusty lake than solid ground. the effect. his hair. which he wore under his chin. and deep−set eyes. This small staff was quite equal to all the requirements. as though to add to the daily misery which this prosperous canal inflicted on the unfortunate inn−keeper. it was situated between the Rhone from which it had its source and the post−road it had depleted. like his beard. And. and teeth white as those of a carnivorous animal. no doubt. This man was our old acquaintance. on the lookout for guests who seldom came. after the manner of the Spanish muleteers. were scattered a few miserable stalks of wheat. and displayed its flexible stem and fan−shaped summit dried and cracked by the fierce heat of the sub−tropical sun. a perfect specimen of the natives of those southern latitudes.Chapter 26 287 unattractive spot. with no other protection for his head than a red handkerchief twisted around it. exposed to the meridional rays of a burning sun. whose maiden name had been Madeleine Radelle. and sickly−looking. and bony. The inn−keeper himself was a man of from forty to fifty−five years of age. day after day. Gaspard Caderousse. For about seven or eight years the little tavern had been kept by a man and his wife. and in spite of his age but slightly interspersed with a few silvery threads. sparkling. tall. on the contrary. Born in the .

his rude gutteral language would not have enabled him to pronounce. During the days of his prosperity. while her husband kept his daily watch at the door −− a duty he performed with so much the greater willingness. not a festivity took place without himself and wife being among the spectators. watch−chains. as it saved him the necessity of listening to the endless plaints and murmurs of his helpmate. who never saw him without breaking out into bitter invectives against fate. vain. 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. but fond of external show. she had shared in the beauty for which its women are proverbial. necklaces. He dressed in the picturesque costume worn upon grand occasions by the inhabitants of the south of France. La Carconte. shivering in her chair. her husband had bestowed on her the name of La Carconte in place of her sweet and euphonious name of Madeleine. to all of which her husband would calmly return an unvarying reply. But. while La Carconte displayed the charming fashion prevalent among the women of Arles. which.Chapter 26 288 neighborhood of Arles. Like other dwellers in the south. parti−colored scarfs." The sobriquet of La Carconte had been bestowed on Madeleine Radelle from the fact that she had been born in a village. 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. and the daily infliction of his peevish partner's murmurs and lamentations. situated between Salon and Lambesc. and addicted to display. the unfortunate inn−keeper did not writhe under the double misery of seeing the hateful canal carry off his customers and his profits. by degrees. a mode of attire borrowed equally from Greece and Arabia. he was a man of sober habits and moderate desires. . in all probability. let it not be supposed that amid this affected resignation to the will of Providence. It is God's pleasure that things should be so. in these philosophic words: −− "Hush. Still. bearing equal resemblance to the style adopted both by the Catalans and Andalusians. so called. She remained nearly always in her second−floor chamber. or stretched languid and feeble on her bed.

had given up any further participation in the pomps and vanities. which led away to the north and south. to set the entrance door wide open. velvet vests. then. that no one in his senses could have imagined that any traveller. he mounted to her chamber. His rider was a priest. . and silver buckles for the shoes.Chapter 26 289 embroidered bodices. as the moving object drew nearer. both for himself and wife. when he was aroused by the shrill voice of his wife. and wearing a three−cornered hat. and Gaspard Caderousse. endeavoring to turn up some grain or insect suited to their palate −− to the deserted road. At the moment Caderousse quitted his sentry−like watch before the door. There it lay stretching out into one interminable line of dust and sand. at liberty to regulate his hours for journeying. had Caderousse but retained his post a few minutes longer. though fruitlessly. Having arrived before the Pont du Gard. he would easily have perceived that it consisted of a man and horse. unable to appear abroad in his pristine splendor. 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. striped gaiters. more for the shelter than the profit it afforded. Caderousse. was. as an invitation to any chance traveller who might be passing. elegantly worked stockings. his eyes glancing listlessly from a piece of closely shaven grass −− on which some fowls were industriously. altogether presenting so uninviting an appearance. first taking care. and. however. meagre trees. and ambled along at an easy pace. the horse stopped. the road on which he so eagerly strained his sight was void and lonely as a desert at mid−day. at his place of observation before the door. dressed in black. would choose to expose himself in such a formidable Sahara. but whether for his own pleasure or that of his rider would have been difficult to say. with its sides bordered by tall. all disappeared. the pair came on with a fair degree of rapidity. between whom the kindest and most amiable understanding appeared to exist. he might have caught a dim outline of something approaching from the direction of Bellegarde. Nevertheless. and grumbling to himself as he went. The horse was of Hungarian breed. as usual. spite of the ardent rays of a noonday sun.

from his pocket. "will you be quiet? Pray don't heed him. most welcome!" repeated the astonished Caderousse. then. Availing himself of a handle that projected from a half−fallen door. he tied the animal safely and having drawn a red cotton handkerchief. with many bows and courteous smiles. Margotin. "You are. M.Chapter 26 290 However that might have been. sir! −− he only barks. a huge black dog came rushing to meet the daring assailant of his ordinarily tranquil abode. then. wiped away the perspiration that streamed from his brow. snarling and displaying his sharp white teeth with a determined hostility that abundantly proved how little he was accustomed to society. and. At that moment a heavy footstep was heard descending the wooden staircase that led from the upper floor." . sir." 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. "You are welcome. I make no doubt a glass of good wine would be acceptable this dreadfully hot day. the priest. struck thrice with the end of his iron−shod stick. advancing to the door." Then perceiving for the first time the garb of the traveller he had to entertain. observing in the countenance of the latter no other expression than extreme surprise at his own want of attention to an inquiry so courteously worded. he never bites. even more surprised at the question than he had been by the silence which had preceded it. at your service. he deemed it as well to terminate this dumb show. then. Caderousse hastily exclaimed: "A thousand pardons! I really did not observe whom I had the honor to receive under my poor roof. mine host of the Pont du Gard besought his guest to enter. speaking with a strong Italian accent. Caderousse?" "Yes." cried he. I presume. led his steed by the bridle in search of some place to which he could secure him. At this unusual sound." answered the host. "I am Gaspard Caderousse. dismounting. and therefore said. sir. "Now. What would the abbe please to have? What refreshment can I offer? All I have is at his service. speaking to the dog.

who is the only person in the house besides myself." "And you followed the business of a tailor?" "True." said Caderousse. But talking of heat. leaning his elbow on a table. It is so hot at Marseilles. and then.Chapter 26 291 "Gaspard Caderousse. and had established himself very comfortably between his knees. Upon issuing forth from his subterranean retreat at the expiration of five minutes. which served both as parlor and kitchen. at least. had crept up to him. who. he found the abbe seated upon a wooden stool. with your permission. his long. I was a tailor. while his dim eye was fixed earnestly on the traveller's face." replied the man −− "or. "Are you quite alone?" inquired the guest. on the fourth floor?" "I did. we will resume our conversation from where we left off. anxious not to lose the present opportunity of finding a customer for one of the few bottles of Cahors still remaining in his possession." "As you please. sir. You formerly lived. poor thing!" . for my poor wife. I believe in the Allees de Meillan. till the trade fell off. and unable to render me the least assistance. is there nothing I can offer you by way of refreshment?" "Yes." rejoined the priest. whose animosity seemed appeased by the unusual command of the traveller for refreshments. practically so. hastily raised a trap−door in the floor of the apartment they were in. −− Christian and surname are the same. as Caderousse placed before him the bottle of wine and a glass. quite alone. let me have a bottle of your best wine. while Margotin. "Quite. is laid up with illness. that really I believe that the respectable inhabitants will in time go without any clothing whatever. "Yes. skinny neck resting on his lap.

glancing round as he spoke at the scanty furnishings of the apartment. "I can boast with truth of being an honest man." "You are wrong to speak thus. "it is easy to perceive I am not a rich man." said Caderousse with a sigh.Chapter 26 292 "You are married." "So much the better for you. "Ah." continued the inn−keeper. with a hand on his breast and shaking his head. in my own person. then?" said the priest. if what you assert be true. "In the first place. with a show of interest. whose countenance flushed . Edmond Dantes and myself were intimate friends!" exclaimed Caderousse. as one pleases. in the year 1814 or 1815." said the abbe. honest −− I can certainly say that much for myself. and the wicked punished. and." continued he significantly. I must be satisfied that you are the person I am in search of. "and you do well to repeat them." added he." answered Caderousse. but." "What proofs do you require?" "Did you. sooner or later." "What mean you?" inquired Caderousse with a look of surprise." said the abbe. but in this world a man does not thrive the better for being honest. sir." "Such words as those belong to your profession. with a bitter expression of countenance." The abbe fixed on him a searching. the good will be rewarded. penetrating glance. "one is free to believe them or not. "for I am firmly persuaded that. know anything of a young sailor named Dantes?" "Dantes? Did I know poor dear Edmond? Why. be able to prove to you how completely you are in error. fairly sustaining the scrutiny of the abbe's gaze. "and perhaps I may. "Yes. "that is more than every one can say nowadays.

Ah. who turned away. Why does not God. "You remind me. while the clear. sir. during which the fixed. there. and that none but the wicked prosper. "Poor fellow. becoming excited and eager. I envied him his good fortune. and the priest saw him wiping the tears from his eyes with the corner of the red handkerchief twisted round his head. heart−broken prisoner than the felons who pay the penalty of their crimes at the galleys of Toulon. "that the young man concerning whom I asked you was said to bear the name of Edmond." replied Caderousse. "the world grows worse and worse. . speaking in the highly colored language of the south. But I swear to you. hopeless. if he really hates the wicked." There was a brief silence. "though once. 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. I have. "You knew the poor lad. then?" continued Caderousse.Chapter 26 293 darkly as he caught the penetrating gaze of the abbe fixed on him. as he is said to do. I pray. I swear to you." continued Caderousse." said the priest. he was so called as truly as I myself bore the appellation of Gaspard Caderousse. deeply and sincerely lamented his unhappy fate. send down brimstone and fire." "Said to bear the name!" repeated Caderousse. "And so I did. by everything a man holds dear. I confess." A deadly pallor followed the flush on the countenance of Caderousse. sir. "Well." observed the abbe. but tell me. since then. calm eye of the questioner seemed to dilate with feverish scrutiny. without taking any notice of his companion's vehemence. "Why. and consume them altogether?" "You speak as though you had loved this young Dantes. searching eye of the abbe was employed in scrutinizing the agitated features of the inn−keeper. poor fellow!" murmured Caderousse. is another proof that good people are never rewarded on this earth.

" resumed the abbe. "that Dantes. that I might administer to him the consolations of religion. who might only have taken it and then betrayed him to the governor. 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. "who had been his companion in misfortune. Instead of employing this diamond in attempting to bribe his jailers." "And so he was. do young and strong men die in prison. "Of what. and to clear his memory should any foul spot or stain have fallen on it. seemed to rest with ill−concealed satisfaction on the gloomy depression which was rapidly spreading over the countenance of Caderousse. for the sale of such a diamond would have quite sufficed to make his fortune. becoming more and more fixed." continued the abbe. he besought me to try and clear up a mystery he had never been able to penetrate." "And for that reason. this jewel he bestowed on Dantes upon himself quitting the prison." murmured Caderousse. swore by his crucified Redeemer. sir. "A rich Englishman. the poor fellow told you the truth. Dantes carefully preserved it." . think you. unless it be of imprisonment?" Caderousse wiped away the large beads of perspiration that gathered on his brow." And here the look of the abbe. "How should he have been otherwise? Ah. that he was utterly ignorant of the cause of his detention. even in his dying moments. but had been released from prison during the second restoration. that in the event of his getting out of prison he might have wherewithal to live. was possessed of a diamond of immense value. when they have scarcely numbered their thirtieth year. "But the strangest part of the story is." "And of what did he die?" asked Caderousse in a choking voice.Chapter 26 294 "I was called to see him on his dying bed.

"`Another of the number. "that it was a stone of immense value?" "Why. while its brilliant hues seemed still to dance before the eyes of the fascinated inn−keeper. and the third. "`is called Danglars. without seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse. as though hoping to discover the location of the treasure. I have it with me. `I once possessed four dear and faithful friends. set in a ring of admirable workmanship. "But how comes the diamond in your possession." The sharp gaze of Caderousse was instantly directed towards the priest's garments." asked Caderousse. I suppose. which is also valuable." answered the abbe. "To one in Edmond's position the diamond certainly was of great value. the abbe opened it. is worth fifty thousand francs?" "It is. sir? Did Edmond make you his heir?" "No. without the setting. but you shall judge for yourself." cried Caderousse. everything is relative. and returned it to his pocket." "No." replied the abbe.Chapter 26 295 "Then." "Bless me!" exclaimed Caderousse. and displayed to the dazzled eyes of Caderousse the sparkling jewel it contained. merely his testamentary executor. "fifty thousand francs! Surely the diamond was as large as a nut to be worth all that. "it was not of such a size as that. glowing looks. in spite of being my rival.'" The inn−keeper shivered." replied the abbe.'" A fiendish . Calmly drawing forth from his pocket a small box covered with black shagreen.'" continued the abbe. It was estimated at fifty thousand francs. entertained a very sincere affection for me. The name of one of the four friends is Caderousse. "And that diamond. almost breathless with eager admiration. besides the maiden to whom I was betrothed' he said. with eager. as he closed the box. "you say. `and I feel convinced they have all unfeignedly grieved over my loss.

was his own father. the abbe. as he placed his empty glass on the table. that of my betrothed was' −− Stay. I repeat his words just as he uttered them. as I hear. −− his name was Fernand. −− "Where did we leave off?" "The name of Edmond's betrothed was Mercedes. who was about to break in upon the abbe's speech. was much attached to me. stay. you will divide the money into five equal parts. "Allow me to finish first.Chapter 26 296 smile played over the features of Caderousse." said the abbe." "Go on." said the abbe. and give an equal portion to these good friends." urged Caderousse." "Mercedes. "I have forgotten what he called her." "Because the fifth is dead. `You will go to Marseilles." continued the abbe. the only persons who have loved me upon earth. waving his hand. "True. said. said. −− for you understand. although my rival. "Mercedes it was.' said Dantes. and after pouring some into a glass." said Caderousse eagerly. and slowly swallowing its contents. and then if you have any observations to make. when the latter. "you only mentioned four persons. `The third of my friends. you can do so afterwards. "Bring me a carafe of water. with a stifled sigh. Do you understand?" "Perfectly." . The fifth sharer in Edmond's bequest." "To be sure." "`You will sell this diamond.'" "But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse. Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding. resuming his usual placidity of manner.

is too horrible for belief. I believe. "but from the length of time that has elapsed since the death of the elder Dantes. almost suffocated by the contending passions which assailed him. Ah. who saw him in his dying moments. anxiously and eagerly. a Christian. but I." answered Caderousse. "Why. too true!" ejaculated Caderousse.Chapter 26 297 "Too true. making a strong effort to appear indifferent." said a voice from the top of the stairs." "Starvation!" exclaimed the abbe. and that a man. "Why should you meddle with what does not concern you?" . about a year after the disappearance of his son the poor old man died." said Caderousse. should be allowed to perish of hunger in the midst of other men who call themselves Christians." "I learned so much at Marseilles. yes. "Why. I have said. the doctors called his complaint gastro−enteritis." replied the abbe. his acquaintances say he died of grief. of downright starvation. I lived almost on the same floor with the poor old man. springing from his seat. Can you enlighten me on that point?" "I do not know who could if I could not. Oh. I say he died of" −− Caderousse paused." "Of what did he die?" "Why. it is impossible −− utterly impossible!" "What I have said. "Why. I was unable to obtain any particulars of his end. "the poor old man did die. The very dogs that wander houseless and homeless in the streets find some pitying hand to cast them a mouthful of bread. the vilest animals are not suffered to die by such a death as that. "And you are a fool for having said anything about it. "Of what?" asked the priest.

that the miserable old man you were telling me of was forsaken by every one. Again the abbe had been obliged to swallow a draught of water to calm the emotions that threatened to overpower him. are heaped on the unfortunate wretches. and saw the sickly countenance of La Carconte peering between the baluster rails. "What have you to do with politeness. "that my intentions are good. "It appears. but when poor. attracted by the sound of voices. like my husband there. and that you husband can incur no risk. Whatever evils may befall you. then. "This gentleman asks me for information. "Mind your own business. they will not be occasioned by my instrumentality. "Nothing is easier than to begin with fair promises and assurances of nothing to fear. leaving the two speakers to resume the conversation. head on knees." said the abbe. my good woman. madam. make yourself perfectly easy. silly folks. wife. nay. behold trouble and misery. and all sorts of persecutions. he said. the promises and assurances of safety are quickly forgotten. she had feebly dragged herself down the stairs. you simpleton!" retorted La Carconte. then let her head again drop upon her knees. I should like to know? Better study a little common prudence. provided he answers me candidly. that's all very fine. who cannot even see whence all their afflictions come. seated on the lower step. and went into a fit of ague. Surely. and." "Nay. have been persuaded to tell all they know. she had listened to the foregoing conversation." La Carconte muttered a few inarticulate words.Chapter 26 298 The two men turned quickly. that I solemnly promise you. I beg of you." "Ah." replied Caderousse sharply." "Politeness. which common politeness will not permit me to refuse. When he had sufficiently recovered himself. How do you know the motives that person may have for trying to extract all he can from you?" "I pledge you my word. but remaining so as to be able to hear every word they uttered. had not ." retorted the woman. and at some moment when nobody is expecting it.

" continued Caderousse. know in what manner Fernand injured Dantes?" inquired the abbe of Caderousse. wife. though evidently irritated and annoyed by the interruption. but somehow the poor old man had contracted a profound hatred for Fernand −− the very person. when on his deathbed." "Speak out then. And. "Do you. "that you named just now as being one of Dantes' faithful and attached friends. Gaspard!" murmured the woman." "And was he not so?" asked the abbe. "Gaspard. say what it was!" "Gaspard!" cried La Carconte. but it was fortunate that he never knew. "Can a man be faithful to another whose wife he covets and desires for himself? But Dantes was so honorable and true in his own nature. "I cannot help being more frightened at the idea of the malediction of the dead than the hatred of the living. which was not altogether devoid of rude poetry. "mind what you are saying!" Caderousse made no reply to these words." added Caderousse with a bitter smile. "do as you will. "for Mercedes the Catalan and Monsieur Morrel were very kind to him. in his native language." replied Caderousse. he was cruelly deceived. he would not have perished by so dreadful a death. addressing the abbe. "Do I? No one better. you are master −− but if you take my advice you'll hold your tongue. or he might have found it more difficult. that he believed everybody's professions of friendship." "Well.Chapter 26 299 such been the case. said. to pardon his enemies. whatever people may say. but." "Imbecile!" exclaimed La Carconte. he was not altogether forsaken." continued Caderousse." "Why. "I don't know but what you're right!" . then. Poor Edmond. from her seat on the stairs.

truly. I shall do my duty as conscientiously as I can." returned the abbe. "Are these persons." chimed in La Carconte. my good friend. it would take up too much time. and fulfil my promise to the dying man. But you tell me he is no more." So saying. "You say truly. "Wife." said the abbe. what would it be to them? no more than a drop of water in the ocean. besides. in a tone that indicated utter indifference on his part. then said. then. for my own part. the abbe again draw the small box from his pocket. either to speak or be silent. and contrived to hold it in such a light. "No. and therefore can have nothing to do with hatred or revenge." "Well. then." returned Caderousse. My first business will be to dispose of this diamond. Pray relate it to me!" Caderousse seemed to reflect for a few moments. the reward intended for faithful friendship?" "That is true enough. "you are at liberty." "You prefer. the gift of poor Edmond was not meant for such traitors as Fernand and Danglars." "Remember. opened it. so rich and powerful?" "Do you not know their history?" "I do not. I respect your scruples and admire your sentiments. "those two could crush you at a single blow!" "How so?" inquired the abbe. "that I should bestow on men you say are false and treacherous. so let the matter end. perhaps. what good would it do?" asked Caderousse. "come here!" . wife!" cried he in a hoarse voice. and came to me and begged that I would candidly tell which were his true and which his false friends. why. "Why. I should not hesitate. so let all such feeling be buried with him. "If the poor lad were living. that a bright flash of brilliant hues passed before the dazzled gaze of Caderousse. just as you please.Chapter 26 300 "So you will say nothing?" asked the abbe.

rising and descending to the chamber with a tolerably firm step." The agitation of Caderousse became extreme. "It does. in a low. his betrothed bride. Caderousse and his wife exchanged looks . that I do so. "As being the friends Edmond esteemed most faithful and devoted to him. and myself. muttering voice. I said I looked upon it as a sacrilegious profanation to reward treachery.Chapter 26 301 "Diamond!" exclaimed La Carconte. as he replaced the jewel and its case in the pocket of his cassock. Danglars. Fernand. and that was what I was observing to this gentleman just now. "The fifth part of the profits from this stone belongs to us then. not mine. to be sold. As he saw the abbe rise from his seat and go towards the door." replied the abbe. perhaps crime. "no more do I. "Of course not!" rejoined Caderousse quickly. "with the addition of an equal division of that part intended for the elder Dantes. in order that I may execute Edmond's last wishes. You will have the goodness to furnish me with the address of both Fernand and Danglars. "what diamond are you talking about?" "Why. as though to ascertain if his horse were sufficiently refreshed to continue his journey. The jewel is worth at least fifty thousand francs." murmured the wife in her turn." answered the abbe calmly." "Oh." "And why among us four?" inquired Caderousse. Mercedes." "I don't call those friends who betray and ruin you. which I believe myself at liberty to divide equally with the four survivors. "It is a beautiful diamond left by poor Edmond Dantes. "it is your fault. what a magnificent jewel!" cried the astonished woman. does it not?" asked Caderousse." "Remember. did you not hear all we said?" inquired Caderousse. and large drops of perspiration rolled from his heated brow. and the money divided between his father.

that is all. For my part. her body convulsed with chills." replied Caderousse." replied La Carconte." So saying. wife. I wash my hands of the affair. Arrived at the top stair. so much the better." said the former. "I am all attention." answered he. La Carconte then entered her chamber. uncertain tread. "what have you made up your mind to do?" "To tell you all I know. she turned round. you see. consider well what you are about to do!" "I have both reflected and decided. "Not because I have the least desire to learn anything you may please to conceal from me. "Gaspard. if we chose!" "Do you believe it?" "Why." said the abbe. "do as you like. "I certainly think you act wisely in so doing. to her husband. why. I could distribute the legacy according to the wishes of the testator. and her teeth rattling in her head. ." "I hope it may be so. through your assistance. and called out. the flooring of which creaked beneath her heavy." said the priest. in spite of the intense heat of the weather. as he returned to the apartment below. but simply that if.Chapter 26 302 of deep meaning. she once more climbed the staircase leading to her chamber." asked the abbe. as she proceeded towards her arm−chair. his face flushed with cupidity. "Well. into which she fell as though exhausted. in a warning tone. "There. "this splendid diamond might all be ours. surely a man of his holy profession would not deceive us!" "Well." was the reply.

" And he began his story. exactly opposite to him. and confessions die in my breast. "you must make me a promise. and it is as well that your visit hither should be made known only to ourselves. as though through the flooring of her chamber she viewed the scene that was enacting below. in a . I should break to pieces like glass. then. while the light would be fully thrown on the narrator. that you will never let any one know that it was I who supplied them. "I am a priest. and. bolted and barred it. I will take all the consequences upon myself. enough!" replied Caderousse. "First. Chapter 27 The Story. by way of still greater precaution. sir. He removed his seat into a corner of the room. my friend. he prepared to give his whole attention to Caderousse." "What is that?" inquired the abbe. or rather clinched together. if you ever make use of the details I am about to give you. "we might be interrupted in the most interesting part of my story. Recollect. where he himself would be in deep shadow. "Enough. for the persons of whom I am about to talk are rich and powerful." "Make yourself easy." replied the abbe. with head bent down and hands clasped. "Remember. our only desire is to carry out." said the trembling voice of La Carconte." said Caderousse." With these words he went stealthily to the door. this is no affair of mine. and if they only laid the tips of their fingers on me. "Why. which would be a pity. as he was accustomed to do at night. who seated himself on the little stool. which he closed. "say no more about it.Chapter 27 303 "Stop a minute. During this time the abbe had chosen his place for listening at his ease." answered Caderousse.

"Dantes himself only knew that which personally concerned him." answered the abbe. tell the truth." "At La Reserve! Oh." "The history is a sad one. The old man returned alone to his home. "Edmond talked to me a great deal about the old man for whom he had the deepest love. I even believe I ought to undeceive you as to the friendship which poor Edmond thought so sincere and unquestionable. the persons of whom you are about to speak." said the abbe. followed by four soldiers. and up to this point I know all. when Dantes was arrested. under these circumstances. and not to man. then. and belong to God." This positive assurance seemed to give Caderousse a little courage. "I will. I can see it all before me this moment. without reserve. Monsieur Morrel hastened to obtain the particulars. if you please. shaking his head. the last wishes of our friend. "Edmond related to me everything until the moment when he was arrested in a small cabaret close to Marseilles. never may know. besides. "Well." "Yes." said Caderousse. for he never beheld again the five persons I have named to you. a police commissary." "Was it not his betrothal feast?" "It was and the feast that began so gayly had a very sorrowful ending. the whole truth. entered. and paced up and ." said the priest. and Dantes was arrested. sir. which I have only quitted to fulfil the last wishes of a dying man. yes. and not a Frenchman." "Begin with his father. then. I do not know. as without hatred.Chapter 27 304 fitting manner. Speak." "Well. "perhaps you know all the earlier part of it?" "Yes. and they were very sad. or heard mention of any one of them. I am an Italian. folded up his wedding suit with tears in his eyes. and I shall shortly retire to my convent." said Caderousse.

Chapter 27 305 down his chamber the whole day. "we cannot console those who will not be consoled. she did not obtain it. and more and more solitary. and hate the Jesuits. having passed a sleepless night. for his footsteps over my head night and day did not leave me a moment's repose. I cannot now repeat to you. de Villefort. said then to myself. One night.'" "Poor father!" murmured the priest. however. but his door was closed. and what would he think if I did not wait here for him?' I heard all this from the window. and. "From day to day he lived on alone. but he seemed to dislike seeing me. it was more than piety. besides. `I will not leave this house. but when I reached his door he was no longer weeping but praying. all the eloquent words and imploring language he made use of. The next day Mercedes came to implore the protection of M. "Ah. sir. when she saw him so miserable and heart−broken. although I . for I could not bear it. and for myself. but the old man would not consent. and not touched food since the previous day. sir. and I could not resist my desire to go up to him. and I am very glad that I have not any children. M. and did not find in my memory or heart all he is now saying. and went to visit the old man. for I was anxious that Mercedes should persuade the old man to accompany her. I assure you I could not sleep either. for the grief of the poor father gave me great uneasiness." replied Caderousse. who am no canter. Morrel and Mercedes came to see him. and would not go to bed at all. for I was underneath him and heard him walking the whole night. `It is really well. for if I were a father and felt such excessive grief as the old man does. I should throw myself into the sea at once. she wished him to go with her that she might take care of him.' was the old man's reply. it was more than grief. for my poor dear boy loves me better than anything in the world. and every step he took went to my heart as really as if his foot had pressed against my breast. and he was one of these. and if he gets out of prison he will come and see me the first thing. I heard his sobs. I know not why. however." "But did you not go up−stairs and try to console the poor old man?" asked the abbe. and I. `No.

but. they make one melancholy. This was M. when." replied the abbe. why you see we leave off after a time seeing persons who are in sorrow. 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 M. −− `Be assured. the old man would not take any sustenance. Mercedes remained. Morrel's wish also. and instead of expecting him. and that he sold by degrees what he had to pay for his subsistence. For the first three days I heard him walking about as usual. who would fain have conveyed the old man against his consent. on the fourth I heard nothing. and she found him so altered that she was even more anxious than before to have him taken to her own home. and so at last old Dantes was left all to himself. and saw him so pale and haggard.Chapter 27 306 was certain he was at home. and ordered him a limited diet. that believing him very ill. he owed three quarters' rent. "Yes. by his bedside.' However well disposed a person may be. and the poor girl. From that time he received all who came. but I looked through the keyhole. which was granted to him. my dear daughter. for I am the oldest. and of course shall see him first. therefore. But availing himself of the doctor's order. At length the poor old fellow reached the end of all he had. and I never shall forget the old man's smile at this prescription. The door was closed. One day. Morrel went away. but I guessed what these bundles were. in spite of her own grief and despair." "Mercedes came again. contrary to his custom. at length (after nine days of despair and . I know this. "it is very affecting. I went and told M. he had an excuse for not eating any more. I am quite happy. I was there. M. I then resolved to go up to him at all risks. Morrel and then ran on to Mercedes. but the old man resisted. and cried so that they were actually frightened. Morrel bringing a doctor. does it not. endeavored to console him. because the landlord came into my apartment when he left his. too. "The story interests you. They both came immediately. he said to her. and they threatened to turn him out. he is dead. and the doctor said it was inflammation of the bowels. he had admitted Mercedes. sir?" inquired Caderousse. he would not make any answer. he begged for another week. the doctor had put him on a diet. it is he who is awaiting us." The abbe uttered a kind of groan. making a sign to the Catalan that he had left his purse on the chimney−piece.

Chapter 27 307 fasting)." . one from love. with red eyes and pale cheeks. and the other put it in the post. "This was. and then resumed his seat. "The more so. −− Fernand and Danglars. of hunger. cursing those who had caused his misery. Tell me. indeed. and the father with famine?" "Two men jealous of him. and the other from ambition." The abbe. "I am as certain of it as that we two are Christians. swallowed it at one gulp. therefore. "and remember too.'" The abbe rose from his chair. sir. a horrid event." "How was this jealousy manifested? Speak on." "They denounced Edmond as a Bonapartist agent. the day before the betrothal feast. sir. `If you ever see my Edmond again." said the abbe. as it was men's and not God's doing. and saying to Mercedes." "Tell me of those men. made two turns round the chamber. and pressed his trembling hand against his parched throat. "And you believe he died" −− "Of hunger." "Which of the two denounced him? Which was the real delinquent?" "Both. "you have promised to tell me everything. the old man died." said he in a hoarse voice. with a shaking hand. who are these men who killed the son with despair. tell him I die blessing him." said Caderousse. sir. seized a glass of water that was standing by him half−full." "And where was this letter written?" "At La Reserve. one with a letter." he added in an almost menacing tone. sir.

but in order to have known everything so well." "Next day −− next day. you were an accomplice. `and did really put in to the Island of Elba. Faria. you must have been an eye−witness. "you were there yourself. you must have seen plain enough what they had been doing. that his writing might not be recognized." replied the priest. sir?" asked Caderousse. "Nothing. "I was there. "who told you I was there?" The abbe saw he had overshot the mark. how well did you judge men and things!" "What did you please to say. "go on. then −− 'twas so." exclaimed the abbe suddenly. −− "No one.' said he." "It was Danglars who wrote the denunciation with his left hand. and he added quickly." "Sir. I said all that a man in such a state could say. Faria." replied Caderousse. sir. then. but they both assured me that it was a jest they were carrying on. true!" said Caderousse in a choking voice. and Fernand who put it in the post. though you were present when Dantes was arrested. `If he should really be guilty. and perfectly harmless." "True. if he is really charged with a letter for the Bonapartist . astonished. yet you said nothing." murmured the abbe. sir." "Yes. "Oh. "they had made me drink to such an excess that I nearly lost all perception. but Danglars restrained me." "But. nothing. "if not. I was there.Chapter 27 308 "'Twas so. I had only an indistinct understanding of what was passing around me." "I!" said Caderousse." "And did you not remonstrate against such infamy?" asked the abbe. and very anxious to speak.

I often ask pardon of God. and thus to accuse yourself is to deserve pardon. `Hold your tongue. Ten times. Morrel. the only one with which I have seriously to reproach myself in all my life. "You have two or three times mentioned a M.' I confess I had my fears. "The part of an honest man. woman. Twenty times he interceded for Edmond. those who have supported him will pass for his accomplices. in the state in which politics then were. he wrote. "they say the dead know everything. the abbe rose and paced up and down pensively. is no doubt the cause of my abject condition." said the abbe. and has not pardoned me. "and remorse preys on me night and day. sir. I confess. implored. sir." There was a brief silence." said the abbe. and the night or two .'" And Caderousse bowed his head with every sign of real repentance. When the emperor returned. and offered to receive him in his own house. I am expiating a moment of selfishness." he said. Edmond is dead. and so I always say to La Carconte. "who was he?" "The owner of the Pharaon and patron of Dantes.Chapter 27 309 committee at Paris. as I told you." interrupted Caderousse. and so energetically." "I understand −− you allowed matters to take their course. "But he knows it all now. and if they find this letter upon him." "He did not know. threatened. that on the second restoration he was persecuted as a Bonapartist. but it was not criminal." "And what part did he play in this sad drama?" inquired the abbe. It was cowardly. and then resumed his seat." "Unfortunately. full of courage and real regard." "Yes. "Well. it is the will of God. because this action. that was all." answered Caderousse. and I held my tongue. he came to see Dantes' father. "you have spoken unreservedly. I swear to you. when she complains.

all this. besides. I have the purse still by me −− a large one. who through everything has behaved like an angel.Chapter 27 310 before his death. without doing harm to any one." asked the abbe. M. "Yes. he left his purse on the mantelpiece. "so it is. made of red silk. like the others." Caderousse smiled bitterly. "He is reduced almost to the last extremity −− nay. happy as myself. he has a daughter. only augments his sorrows. Morrel is utterly ruined. Morrel still alive?" "Yes. instead of lessening. If this ship founders. after five and twenty years of labor. and which is expected from the Indies with a cargo of cochineal and indigo. happy. "In that case." "And has the unfortunate man wife or children?" inquired the abbe. who was about to marry the man she loved. "is M." "And." "How?" "Yes. "Yes. and. as I have already said. and buried him decently. and there would be an end. a lieutenant in the army. and so Edmond's father died. he is a ruined man. he has lost five ships in two years. Morrel unhappy?" exclaimed the abbe. "What! M. If he were alone in the world he would blow out his brains. he has a wife. has suffered by the bankruptcy of three large houses." continued Caderousse. and his only hope now is in that very Pharaon which poor Dantes commanded. a son. he is almost at the point of dishonor." . but whose family now will not allow him to wed the daughter of a ruined man. with which they paid the old man's debts." replied Caderousse. he has." replied the abbe. as you may suppose. as he had lived. "he should be rich. after having acquired a most honorable name in the trade of Marseilles." said he.

Morrel. with my poor wife dying of fever before my very eyes." "And Fernand?" . with a fine residence in the Rue de Mont−Blanc. six footmen in his ante−chamber. and now he is the Baron Danglars. while Fernand and Danglars are rolling in wealth. in a peculiar tone. while honest men have been reduced to misery. daughter of M. de Servieux. the king's chamberlain." added Caderousse. and was taken. "And it is thus heaven recompenses virtue. who did not know his crime. who never did a bad action but that I have told you of −− am in destitution. and. as cashier into a Spanish bank.Chapter 27 311 "Horrible!" ejaculated the priest. and they have made him a baron. with ten horses in his stables. and I know not how many millions in his strongbox. and I unable to do anything in the world for her." "Ah!" said the abbe. a Madame de Nargonne. and made a fortune. and therefore the most guilty?" "What has become of him? Why." "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. "he is happy. he left Marseilles. who is in high favor at court. I shall die of hunger." "What has become of Danglars. but if a large fortune produces happiness. Danglars is happy. as old Dantes did. on the recommendation of M. "You see. who left him a widower. and trebled or quadrupled his capital. then with that money he speculated in the funds. He is a millionaire. a widow. sir. During the war with Spain he was employed in the commissariat of the French army. he has married a second time. having first married his banker's daughter. the instigator." "How is that?" "Because their deeds have brought them good fortune. I.

Fernand was drafted. found Danglars there. The night after that battle he was sentry at the door of a general who carried on a secret correspondence with the enemy. and being sent to Spain to ascertain the feeling of his fellow−countrymen. by what visible steps has he attained this high fortune or high position?" "Both. but his action was rewarded by the Bourbons. but listen. He returned to France with the epaulet of sub−lieutenant. and as the protection of the general. He proposed to Fernand to accompany him. I was only sent to the coast. who is in the highest favor. won over the support of the royalists at the capital and in the provinces. at the time when Danglars made his early speculations.Chapter 27 312 "Fernand? Why. during the Spanish war −− that is to say. much the same story. but Napoleon returned." "But. I went too. then. went to the frontier with his regiment. sir −− he has both fortune and position −− both. but as I was older than Fernand. and had just married my poor wife. Fernand agreed to do so. he was a captain in 1823. Fernand would have been court−martialed if Napoleon had remained on the throne. There must have been in his life some strange secret that no one knows. and was at the battle of Ligny. That same night the general was to go over to the English. got on very intimate terms with him." "And it has staggered everybody. Some days before the return of the emperor. a special levy was made. without education or resources. received promises and made pledges on his own part. The Bourbons left him quietly enough at the Catalans. and followed the general. guided his regiment by paths known to himself alone through the mountain . Fernand was a Spaniard. deserted his post. and you will understand. was accorded to him." "But how could a poor Catalan fisher−boy. and Fernand was compelled to join." "This must be impossible!" "It would seem so. Fernand was enrolled in the active troop. make a fortune? I confess this staggers me.

" said Caderousse. and received the title of count and the cross of an officer of the Legion of Honor. and. he was made colonel. Rue du Helder. with which he returned to France. but listen: this was not all. Some time after. after the taking of Trocadero. "yes. "And Mercedes −− they tell me that she has disappeared?" "Disappeared. but before he died he recompensed the services of Fernand by leaving him a considerable sum. and had begun her war of independence." "Has she made a fortune also?" inquired the abbe. Paris. still having his name kept on the army roll. Ali Pasha was killed." "So that now?" −− inquired the abbe." continued Caderousse. "he owns a magnificent house −− No. gave countenance to volunteer assistance. then. hesitated for a moment. rendered such services in this brief campaign that. as you know. "Mercedes is at this moment one of the greatest ladies in Paris. Fernand sought and obtained leave to go and serve in Greece." "Destiny! destiny!" murmured the abbe." The abbe opened his mouth. Fernand's career was checked by the long peace which seemed likely to endure throughout Europe. as you know. it was stated that the Comte de Morcerf (this was the name he bore) had entered the service of Ali Pasha with the rank of instructor−general. without protecting them openly. "Yes. with an ironical smile. The war with Spain being ended. .Chapter 27 313 gorges which were held by the royalists. The French government. 27. in fact. making an effort at self−control. to rise the next day with still more splendor. he said. as the sun disappears. all eyes were turned towards Athens −− it was the fashion to pity and support the Greeks. when he was gazetted lieutenant−general. Greece only had risen against Turkey. "So that now." replied Caderousse.

One evening. In the midst of her despair. old Dantes incessantly said to her. the door opened. her devotion to the elder Dantes. but it seemed as if a part of her past life had returned to her. It was not the one she wished for most." said the abbe. as I have told you. perhaps was dead. This was the departure of Fernand −− of Fernand. for he would have been there to reproach her infidelity. and whom she regarded as her brother. and wrung her hands in agony. after a day of accustomed vigil at the angle of two roads leading to Marseilles from the Catalans. He was now a lieutenant. Suddenly she heard a step she knew. that other was absent. But I have seen things so extraordinary. but which was only joy at being no longer alone in the world. I have told you of her attempts to propitiate M. had not become the wife of another." . which she had always repelled before when it was suggested to her by another. no news of Fernand." "Mercedes was at first in the deepest despair at the blow which deprived her of Edmond. Mercedes begged for six months more in which to await and mourn for Edmond. no companionship save that of an old man who was dying with despair.' The old man died. if he were not. de Villefort.Chapter 27 314 "Go on. perchance. had he lived. and then. stood before her. Three months passed and still she wept −− no news of Edmond. and Fernand. `Our Edmond is dead. Another possessed all Mercedes' heart. dressed in the uniform of a sub−lieutenant. he would return to us. too. had disappeared. Fernand went. she returned to her home more depressed than ever. "it seems as if I were listening to the story of a dream. and seeing at last a friend. At this last thought Mercedes burst into a flood of tears. a new affliction overtook her. At his first coming he had not said a word of love to Mercedes. whose crime she did not know. after long hours of solitary sorrow. Mercedes seized Fernand's hands with a transport which he took for love. and when he learned of the old man's death he returned. it must be confessed. Mercedes. at the second he reminded her that he loved her. came now in full force upon her mind. but the thought. And then. Fernand had never been hated −− he was only not precisely loved. and Mercedes remained alone. turned anxiously around. that what you tell me seems less astonishing than it otherwise might. Fernand saw this.

"Yes." replied Caderousse. and she developed with his growing fortune. she nearly fainted as she passed La Reserve. beautiful but uneducated. she was attending to the education of her son. "that makes eighteen months in all." replied Caderousse. sir. "`Frailty. at Perpignan. "did he know so little of his lovely betrothed? Mercedes might have been a queen. with a bitter smile. There were too many unpleasant possibilities associated with the Catalans." continued Caderousse. if the crown were to be placed on the heads of the loveliest and most intelligent." "The very church in which she was to have married Edmond. and eight days after the wedding they left Marseilles. "little Albert. Mercedes was married." said the abbe. Fernand's fortune was already waxing great. 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." "But." "Well. and to depart himself. where. "Her son?" said he. "the marriage took place in the church of Accoules. "there was only a change of bride−grooms. She . then. thy name is woman." The abbe started. eighteen months before." "Oh." "Did you ever see Mercedes again?" inquired the priest. What more could the most devoted lover desire?" Then he murmured the words of the English poet." continued the abbe. I understood from Edmond that she was the daughter of a simple fisherman. more happy.'" "Six months afterwards. "Yes.Chapter 27 315 "So that." proceeded Caderousse. during the Spanish war. the betrothal had been celebrated with him whom she might have known she still loved had she looked to the bottom of her heart. "she must have received an education herself. "but although in the eyes of the world she appeared calm. to be able to instruct her child. where Fernand had left her. Fernand." murmured the priest.

But now her position in life is assured. assist me." "Then you did not see either of them?" "No. "And yet what?" asked the abbe. and saw Mercedes. music −− everything. I called on Fernand. who at once shut the blind. who would not even receive me. she is rich. Besides. she is not happy." "Do you not know what became of him. who sent me a hundred francs by his valet−de−chambre. "Yet. that she might forget. and yet" −− Caderousse paused. a countess." "And M. I am sure." "How was that?" "As I went away a purse fell at my feet −− it contained five and twenty louis. and I had nothing to ask of him. and the share he had in Edmond's misfortunes?" . I did not know him. "What makes you believe this?" "Why." continued Caderousse. So I went to Danglars.Chapter 27 316 learned drawing. she did this in order to distract her mind. he never was a friend of mine. and she only filled her head in order to alleviate the weight on her heart. between ourselves. "Oh. I believe. I raised my head quickly. "no doubt fortune and honors have comforted her. perhaps. when I found myself utterly destitute." said Caderousse. I thought my old friends would. de Villefort?" asked the abbe. but Madame de Morcerf saw me.

and forgotten. Take the diamond." "I know what happiness and what despair are. have remained poor. and sell it. it is yours. and giving it to Caderousse. Edmond had one friend only. and soon after left Marseilles. and gave the abbe a long purse of faded red silk. take this diamond. withdrew his hand. The abbe smiled. "God may seem sometimes to forget for a time. then. −− "Here. "Oh. "give me the red silk purse that M. and I never make a jest of such feelings." said Caderousse. more and more astonished. sir. my friend. do not make a jest of the happiness or despair of a man. Take it. putting out one hand timidly. −− "Oh. "In exchange. for me only?" cried Caderousse. and you might have kept it. as high in station as Fernand. wretched. as you see. no doubt he is as rich as Danglars." "Oh. and in return gave Caderousse the diamond. it is worth fifty thousand francs. no doubt he has been as lucky as the rest. went toward a large oaken cupboard. said. I only know that some time after Edmond's arrest. "for no one knew that Edmond had given you this diamond. then. he married Mademoiselle de Saint−Meran. sir. do not jest with me!" "This diamond was to have been shared among his friends." "What. sir. while his justice reposes. you are a man of God. my friend. Morrel left on old Dantes' chimney−piece. but in exchange −− " Caderousse. the abbe took the diamond from his pocket. I only." cried Caderousse. opened it. but there always comes a moment when he remembers −− and behold −− a proof!" As he spoke. who touched the diamond." ." he continued. sir. and which you tell me is still in your hands." replied the abbe. "ah. and I repeat my wish that this sum may suffice to release you from your wretchedness. and with the other wiping away the perspiration which bedewed his brow." "You are mistaken." Caderousse.Chapter 27 317 "No. round which were two copper runners that had once been gilt. and thus it cannot be divided. The abbe took it.

" he said. and then said. "Is. took his hat and gloves. "you would have done. then. "What? That he has given the diamond to us only?" inquired Caderousse. "Oh!" he said. once more saluted the innkeeper. taking up his hat. paler and trembling more than ever. here it is. I have told everything to you as it occurred." The woman gazed at it a moment." "See. and I will swear upon it with my hand on the crucifix. "False!" he muttered. opened the door himself. nothing more true! See. you blockhead!" Caderousse remained for a moment aghast under the weight of such an idea. and I may believe it in every particular. half bewildered with joy. in a gloomy voice. "'Tis well. "Suppose it's false?" Caderousse started and turned pale. When Caderousse turned around. and may this money profit you! Adieu. "we will soon find out. he saw behind him La Carconte." replied Caderousse. all that I have heard really true?" she inquired. then." "In what way?" ." said the abbe to himself. I go far from men who thus so bitterly injure each other. and then returned by the road he had travelled in coming. who kept uttering his loud farewells. convinced by his manner and tone that Caderousse spoke the truth.Chapter 27 318 "Which." The abbe with difficulty got away from the enthusiastic thanks of Caderousse. "in this corner is a crucifix in holy wood −− here on this shelf is my wife's testament. and as the recording angel will tell it to the ear of God at the day of the last judgment!" "'Tis well. "yes. which he placed on the red handkerchief tied round his head." The abbe rose. my faith as a Christian. "False! Why should that man give me a false diamond?" "To get your secret without paying for it." said the abbe. sir. open this book. got out and mounted his horse. I will swear to you by my soul's salvation. "all you have told me is perfectly true. "Well.

nankeen trousers.Chapter 28 319 "Why. and I shall be back in two hours. a man of about thirty or two and thirty. and I will show it to them. and we are a little uneasy at reports that have reached us that the firm is on the brink of ruin. He has lost four or five vessels. but it is not a fortune. Ask of me. "Fifty thousand francs!" muttered La Carconte when left alone. to ask you for information. what is my opinion of M. to give any information as to the state of his finances. and have been these ten years. "Sir. connected with the house of Morrel & Son. We have a hundred thousand francs or thereabouts loaned on their securities. as mayor." said he. Rue de Nouailles. No. there are always jewellers from Paris there. of Rome." and Caderousse left the house in haste. We are. sir. and suffered by three or four bankruptcies. dressed in a bright blue frock coat. Morrel. de Boville. of Marseilles. The day after that in which the scene we have just described had taken place on the road between Bellegarde and Beaucaire. and a white waistcoat. he has. if you wish to learn more. express from Rome. "it is a large sum of money. presented himself before the mayor of Marseilles. the fair is on at Beaucaire. I believe. and I shall say that he is a man honorable to the last degree. wife. "I know very well that during the last four or five years misfortune has seemed to pursue M. and if there be any grounds for apprehension." Chapter 28 The Prison Register. address yourself to M. This is all I can say. therefore. although I am a creditor myself to the amount of ten thousand francs. "I am chief clerk of the house of Thomson & French. having the appearance and accent of an Englishman." replied the mayor. but it is not for me. 15. as this is a . Morrel. and who has up to this time fulfilled every engagement with scrupulous punctuality. and ran rapidly in the direction opposite to that which the priest had taken. the inspector of prisons. two hundred thousand francs in Morrel's hands." "Sir. I have come. Look after the house.

the Pharaon." exclaimed M.Chapter 28 320 greater amount than mine. and these two hundred thousand francs were payable. did not come into port on the 15th. de Boville. he was in such a state of despair. half on the 15th of this month. made a gesture of surprise. addressed him in terms nearly similar to those with which he had accosted the mayor of Marseilles. Morrel of my desire to have these payments punctually. did not allow either his memory or his imagination to stray to the past. As to M. M. "this looks very much like a suspension of payment. and he has been here within the last half−hour to tell me that if his ship. I consider it lost." "Well. I had two hundred thousand francs placed in the hands of Morrel & Son. made his bow and went away. and the other half on the 15th of next month." The Englishman seemed to appreciate this extreme delicacy. sir. "your fears are unfortunately but too well founded. that it was evident all the faculties of his mind. which seemed to indicate that it was not the first time he had been in his presence. these two hundred thousand francs were the dowry of my daughter. with the coolness of his nation. de Boville. de Boville despairingly. I had informed M." said the Englishman. on perceiving him. he would be wholly unable to make this payment." "It looks more like bankruptcy!" exclaimed M. then. sir. who was to be married in a fortnight. and you see before you a man in despair. and then said. de Boville was in his private room." "But. proceeding with a characteristic British stride towards the street mentioned. The Englishman. that this credit inspires you with considerable apprehension?" "To tell you the truth. I will buy it of you!" . The Englishman appeared to reflect a moment. "Oh. and the Englishman. −− "From which it would appear. absorbed in the thought which occupied him at the moment. you will most probably find him better informed than myself.

" "That's no affair of mine. perhaps. I!" "But at a tremendous discount. you will not realize six per cent of this sum. in all probability." "You are the inspector of prisons?" "I have been so these fourteen years. the commission I ask is quite different. I beg.Chapter 28 321 "You?" "Yes." "Of course. yet he made an effort at self−control. and do not do such things −− no." cried M. "The commission is usually one and a half." "And you will pay" −− "Ready money. "that is the affair of the house of Thomson & French. is. which might have been twice the sum M. in whose name I act. laughing." . de Boville. sir." "Name it. They have. I ought to tell you that. A ray of joy passed across M. will you have two −− three −− five per cent. I only ask a brokerage." replied the Englishman. sir. and said. Our house. some motive to serve in hastening the ruin of a rival firm. "does not do things in that way. But all I know. or even more? Whatever you say. that is perfectly just." And the Englishman drew from his pocket a bundle of bank−notes. "I am like my house." added the Englishman with a laugh." "Sir. that I am ready to hand you over this sum in exchange for your assignment of the debt. of course?" "No. de Boville feared to lose." replied the Englishman. for two hundred thousand francs. de Boville's countenance. −− "Sir.

I was educated at home by a poor devil of an abbe." "Very possibly. five or six months ago −− last February. to recollect dates so well." "To these registers there are added notes relative to the prisoners?" "There are special reports on every prisoner. sir." "I recollect this. and offered vast sums to the government if they would liberate him." "Poor devil! −− and he is dead?" "Yes." "So they said. decidedly. he was." . sir." cried M. and I should like to learn some particulars of his death." "You have a good memory.Chapter 28 322 "You keep the registers of entries and departures?" "I do." "Well. I have since learned that he was confined in the Chateau d'If. I recollect him perfectly." "What was his name?" "The Abbe Faria." "Oh. "he was crazy. who disappeared suddenly. sir. because the poor devil's death was accompanied by a singular incident. de Boville." "Oh. but what sort of madness was it?" "He pretended to know of an immense treasure.

" he interposed. −− a very resolute and very dangerous man. that this Edmond Dantes had procured tools. I shall never forget his countenance!" The Englishman smiled imperceptibly. this Dantes saw a means of accelerating his escape. "that the two dungeons" −− "Were separated by a distance of fifty feet. "but not for the survivor. de Boville. yes. no . sir. on the contrary. for they found a tunnel through which the prisoners held communication with one another. but it appears that this Edmond Dantes" −− "This dangerous man's name was" −− "Edmond Dantes. "Yes. yes. That man made a deep impression on me. and died. −− one of those who had contributed the most to the return of the usurper in 1815. He. sir. "I myself had occasion to see this man in 1816 or 1817. de Boville." "This tunnel was dug. with an intention of escape?" "No doubt. "And you say. and we could only go into his dungeon with a file of soldiers.Chapter 28 323 "May I ask what that was?" said the Englishman with an expression of curiosity. the Abbe Faria had an attack of catalepsy. no doubt. sir." "That must have cut short the projects of escape." "For the dead man. which a close observer would have been astonished at discovering in his phlegmatic countenance. but unfortunately for the prisoners. or made them. It appears." replied M. "Oh dear." "Indeed!" said the Englishman. the abbe's dungeon was forty or fifty feet distant from that of one of Bonaparte's emissaries." replied M.

" "That would have been difficult. and he conveyed the dead man into his own cell. and one that showed some courage." "Well. and threw him into the sea. he was a very dangerous man. fortunately. sir. "Well. took his place in the sack in which they had sewed up the corpse. sir.Chapter 28 324 doubt. and they simply throw the dead into the sea." ." "How was that?" "How? Do you not comprehend?" "No." "The Chateau d'If has no cemetery. "As I have already told you. I can fancy it. "Yes. by his own act disembarrassed the government of the fears it had on his account." replied De Boville. after fastening a thirty−six pound cannon−ball to their feet. "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." observed the Englishman as if he were slow of comprehension. thought that prisoners who died in the Chateau d'If were interred in an ordinary burial−ground. and awaited the moment of interment." "Really!" exclaimed the Englishman." continued the inspector of prisons." "It was a bold step. and." remarked the Englishman. −− "no matter. in supreme good−humor at the certainty of recovering his two hundred thousand francs. they fastened a thirty−six pound ball to his feet." "No matter.

might have some interest in knowing if he were dead or alive." "Excuse you for what? For the story? By no means." "Oh. Excuse me. they may do so with easy conscience. but he laughed as the English do. and no mistake about it. Dantes' relations. this story has diverted our attention from them. "he was drowned?" "Unquestionably." "And so. You understand. it really seems to me very curious. and he laughed too." "But some official document was drawn up as to this affair. yes.Chapter 28 325 And he shouted with laughter. the mortuary deposition. So. I suppose?" inquired the Englishman. He is dead. if he had any. who really was gentleness itself. "Yes. indeed." continued the Englishman who first gained his composure." "So be it. yes. sir." said the Englishman. "at the end of his teeth." "True. and they may have the fact attested whenever they please. you wish to see all relating to the poor abbe." said the Englishman." "Yes. if there were anything to inherit from him." "So that now." ." "So that the governor got rid of the dangerous and the crazy prisoner at the same time?" "Precisely. "But to return to these registers. "So can I.

examination. Beneath these lines was written in another hand: "See note above −− nothing can be done. while De Boville seated himself in a corner. by the deputy procureur's advice. placed in a bracket against his name: −− Edmond Dantes. a terrible weapon against him in the hands of the king's attorney. and placed before him the register and documents relative to the Chateau d'If. you will much oblige me. and put it as quietly in his pocket. and began to read his newspaper. −− the accusation. Morrel's petition. took an active part in the return from the Island of Elba. Everything was here arranged in perfect order. but it seemed that the history which the inspector had related interested him greatly. perused. 1815. de Villefort's marginal notes. had become. kept back by Villefort. each register had its number. too." "Go into my study here. de Boville's study. The Englishman easily found the entries relative to the Abbe Faria. An inveterate Bonapartist. M. for after having perused the first documents he turned over the leaves until he reached the deposition respecting Edmond Dantes. This petition to Napoleon. exaggerated with the best intentions (for Napoleon was then on the throne) the services Dantes had rendered to the imperial cause −− services which Villefort's certificates rendered indispensable. each file of papers its place. and I will show it to you.Chapter 28 326 "Yes. He folded up the accusation quietly. He was no longer astonished when he searched on to find in the register this note. and saw that the name of Noirtier was not mentioned in it. the application dated 10th April. The inspector begged the Englishman to seat himself in an arm−chair. read the examination. There he found everything arranged in due order. To be kept in strict solitary confinement." And they both entered M. under the second restoration. and to be closely watched and guarded. Then he saw through the whole thing. in which Morrel. giving him all the time he desired for the examination." He compared the writing in the bracket with the .

Chapter 29 327 writing of the certificate placed beneath Morrel's petition. of comfort. As we have said. acknowledge therein the receipt of the cash. from the remarks we have quoted. 27th Feb. He did not see the Englishman fold up and place in his pocket the accusation written by Danglars under the arbor of La Reserve. was in Villefort's handwriting. and was reading Le Drapeau Blanc. and so much importance to his two hundred thousand francs. now it is for me to perform my promise. "I have all I want. well acquainted with the interior of Morrel's warehouse. delivery 6 o'clock.. found it impossible to give any effect to the interest he had felt." said the latter. and which had the postmark. de Boville. the Englishman understood that it might have been added by some inspector who had taken a momentary interest in Dantes' situation. who took it without ceremony. would have found a great change. from discretion.M. Any one who had quitted Marseilles a few years previously. P. however irregular it might be. busy . "Thanks. Instead of that air of life. that he would not have opposed whatever the Englishman might do. As to the note which accompanied this. and that he might not disturb the Abbe Faria's pupil in his researches. "Marseilles. and quickly drew up the required assignment. and had returned at this date. Chapter 29 The House of Morrel & Son. Give me a simple assignment of your debt. while the Englishman counted out the bank−notes on the other side of the desk. and discovered that the note in the bracket was the same writing as the certificate −− that is to say. gave his seat to M. but who had." But it must be said that if he had seen it. closing the register with a slam. the inspector. he attached so little importance to this scrap of paper." He rose. and I will hand you over the money. and of happiness that permeates a flourishing and prosperous business establishment −− instead of merry faces at the windows. had seated himself in a corner.

But this did not arise from a want of affection. Nothing had as yet occurred to shake Cocles' belief. have replied to any one who addressed him by it. who.Chapter 29 328 clerks hurrying to and fro in the long corridors −− instead of the court filled with bales of goods. on the contrary. he had at the same time risen to the rank of cashier. in all probability. saying: −− . and which had so completely replaced his real name that he would not. but two remained. Cocles had seen them go without thinking of inquiring the cause of their departure. and strong in the multiplication−table. and had remained with him in spite of the efforts of his friends to induce him to withdraw. Cocles remained in M. the last month's payment had been made with the most scrupulous exactitude. as it would to a miller that the river that had so long turned his mill should cease to flow. and the same evening he had brought them to M. re−echoing with the cries and the jokes of porters. and sunk to the rank of a servant. the only point on which he would have stood firm against the world. In the midst of the disasters that befell the house. Like the rats that one by one forsake the doomed ship even before the vessel weighs anchor. Everything was as we have said. Cocles was the only one unmoved. one would have immediately perceived all aspect of sadness and gloom. the same Cocles. patient. Out of all the numerous clerks that used to fill the deserted corridor and the empty office. Morrel's daughter. no matter what scheme or what trap was laid to catch him. but inflexible on the subject of arithmetic. even against M. however. which he had at his fingers' ends. the other was an old one−eyed cashier. good. so all the numerous clerks had by degrees deserted the office and the warehouse. threw them into an almost empty drawer." or "Cock−eye. a question of arithmetic to Cocles. He was. that it seemed as impossible to him that the house should stop payment." a nickname given him by the young men who used to throng this vast now almost deserted bee−hive. and a most singular change had taken place in his position. called "Cocles. with a melancholy smile. Morrel. who was in love with M. One was a young man of three or four and twenty. Morrel's service. from a firm conviction. Morrel. Cocles had detected an overbalance of fourteen sous in his cash. devoted. and during twenty years he had always seen all payments made with such exactitude.

de Boville. Morrel in person. But since the end of the month M. of whose departure he had learnt from a vessel which had weighed anchor at the same time. and summoned Cocles. the day after his interview with M. Morrel's. owing to the reports afloat.Chapter 29 329 "Thanks. Mademoiselle Julie?" said the cashier. On the staircase they met a beautiful girl of sixteen or seventeen. but his resources were now exhausted. and which had already arrived in harbor. he had collected all his resources. Emmanuel sighed. questioned the new−comer. for this eulogium of M. Morrel. fearing lest the report of his distress should get bruited abroad at Marseilles when he was known to be reduced to such an extremity. is he not. he went to the Beaucaire fair to sell his wife's and daughter's jewels and a portion of his plate. in reality. flattered him more than a present of fifty crowns. came from Calcutta. The young man. had been in for a fortnight. Morrel had passed many an anxious hour. and the stranger followed him. Morrel's apartment. for every new face might be that of a new creditor. Emmanuel. Morrel is in his room. wishing to spare his employer the pain of this interview. while no intelligence had been received of the Pharaon. . was no longer to be had. "M. Cocles. and that his business was with M. himself the pearl of the honest men of Marseilles. but the stranger declared that he had nothing to say to M. who looked with anxiety at the stranger. de Boville. and the one hundred thousand francs due on the 15th of the next month to M. Cocles went first. Cocles appeared. like the Pharaon. this young man was alarmed by the appearance of every new face. By this means the end of the month was passed. you are the pearl of cashiers. Morrel had. and to meet the one hundred thousand francs due on the 10th of the present month." Cocles went away perfectly happy. the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French of Rome. Such was the state of affairs when. But this vessel which. In order to meet the payments then due. Emmanuel received him. come in anxiety to question the head of the house. no hope but the return of the Pharaon. M. presented himself at M. and the young man bade him conduct the stranger to M. and. Credit.

returned and signed to him that he could enter. Morrel does not know my name." said Morrel. who. "you wish to speak to me?" "Yes. arose. resumed his own chair. Fourteen years had changed the worthy merchant." The young girl turned pale and continued to descend. The Englishman looked at him with an air of curiosity. you are aware from whom I come?" "The house of Thomson & French. M. time and sorrow had ploughed deep furrows on his brow. and his look. She entered the office where Emmanuel was. The Englishman entered.Chapter 29 330 "Yes. opened a door in the corner of a landing−place on the second staircase. and found Morrel seated at a table. while the stranger and Cocles continued to mount the staircase. turning over the formidable columns of his ledger.000 or 400. and after having left the clerk of the house of Thomson & French alone. have collected all the bills bearing your signature. and when he had seen him seated. which contained the list of his liabilities." said the young girl hesitatingly. Cocles. conducted the stranger into an ante−chamber." returned the Englishman. which he closed behind him. monsieur. "M. once so firm and penetrating. and. and offered a seat to the stranger. his hair had turned white. opened a second door. was now irresolute and wandering. whose uneasiness was increased by this examination. announce this gentleman.000 francs to pay this month in France. mademoiselle." "He has told you rightly. with whom your father does business. and if my father is there. was now in his fiftieth. while Cocles. at least. knowing your strict punctuality. The house of Thomson & French had 300. I think so. Morrel closed the ledger." "It will be useless to announce me. by the aid of a key he possessed. and to employ the money . in his thirty−sixth year at the opening of this history. "Monsieur. so my cashier tells me. as if he feared being forced to fix his attention on some particular thought or person. At the sight of the stranger. this worthy gentleman has only to announce the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson & French of Rome. at least. and charged me as they became due to present them. evidently mingled with interest. "Go and see.

and for a considerable sum. I have for the end of the month these bills which have been assigned to us by the house of Pascal. "Here is." It is impossible to describe what Morrel suffered during this enumeration. amounting to nearly 55.500 francs payable shortly." "I recognize them. "So then. that you owe this sum to him?" "Yes. and passed his hand over his forehead.Chapter 29 331 otherwise. of course. he placed the money in my hands at four and a half per cent nearly five years ago. and assigned to our house by the holders. half the 15th of next. sir." "When are you to pay?" "Half the 15th of this month. "Yes. "an assignment of 200. "Two hundred and eighty−seven thousand five hundred francs." said the Englishman." repeated he. and the house of Wild & Turner of Marseilles. "I will not. after a moment's silence. that while your probity and . and now here are 32.000 francs to our house by M." Morrel sighed deeply." "What is the amount?" asked Morrel with a voice he strove to render firm. as he thought that. to whom they are due.500 francs. the inspector of prisons. sir. whose face was suffused." said Morrel. which was covered with perspiration. they are all signed by you.000 francs. You acknowledge. for the first time in his life." said Morrel. 287. "Is this all?" "No. "you hold bills of mine?" "Yes. in all. "conceal from you. de Boville." continued he." "Just so." replied the Englishman. he would be unable to honor his own signature. taking a quantity of papers from his pocket.

"Well. I shall pay. sir. who spoke with more assurance than he had hitherto shown. "Sir. "a straightforward answer should be given. "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. "then you have but one hope. tell me fairly. for its arrival will again procure me the credit which the numerous accidents." "The last?" "The last. "one has no friends. "it is a cruel thing to be forced to say. Yes." "So that if this fail" −− ." said he. of which I have been the victim." said the other. "In business. but if the Pharaon should be lost." "But one." "Have you no friends who could assist you?" Morrel smiled mournfully. only correspondents." "I know that. already used to misfortune. who had himself conducted it for five and thirty years −− never has anything bearing the signature of Morrel & Son been dishonored. yet the report is current in Marseilles that you are not able to meet your liabilities." said he." replied the Englishman. shall you pay these with the same punctuality?" Morrel shuddered. as I hope. I fear I shall be forced to suspend payment." "It is true. I must habituate myself to shame. "To questions frankly put. "But as a man of honor should answer another. have deprived me. if.Chapter 29 332 exactitude up to this moment are universally acknowledged." murmured the Englishman. and looked at the man." returned Morrel." said he. but. "if this last resource fail you?" "Well. my vessel arrives safely. and this last resource be gone" −− the poor man's eyes filled with tears." At this almost brutal speech Morrel turned deathly pale.

and half−stifled sobs. stopped at the door. he has informed me of the arrival of this ship. A key was inserted in the lock of the first door. the stranger gazing at him with an air of profound pity." Then in a low voice Morrel added.Chapter 29 333 "I am ruined. and that the footsteps. she comes from India also. she ought to have been here a month ago. which were those of several persons." "What is that?" said the Englishman. in hopes of being the first to announce good news to me. The stranger fancied he heard footsteps on the stairs. Morrel trembling in every limb." "Perhaps she has spoken the Pharaon. passes a part of his time in a belvidere at the top of the house. she is a Bordeaux vessel. and the creaking of hinges was audible. −− completely ruined!" "As I was on my way here. a vessel was coming into port. who still adheres to my fallen fortunes. and something must follow." "And it is not yours?" "No. La Gironde. but his strength failed him and he sank into a chair. The Pharaon left Calcutta the 5th February. and brings you some tidings of her?" "Shall I tell you plainly one thing. . turning pale. but it seemed that Morrel expected something −− something had occasioned the noise. a young man. The noise had ceased. "what is it?" A loud noise was heard on the stairs of people moving hastily." "I know it. oh!" cried Morrel. sir? I dread almost as much to receive any tidings of my vessel as to remain in doubt. but she is not mine. Morrel rose and advanced to the door. sir. The two men remained opposite one another. Uncertainty is still hope. −− "This delay is not natural. "What is the meaning of that noise?" "Oh.

father!" murmured she. He would have spoken. and in the antechamber were visible the rough faces of seven or eight half−naked sailors." Morrel again changed color. but she made an affirmative sign with her head as she lay on her father's breast.Chapter 29 334 "There are only two persons who have the key to that door. but his voice failed him. Emmanuel followed her. "Oh." Scarcely had he uttered those words than Madame Morrel entered weeping bitterly." At this instant the second door opened. "courage!" "The Pharaon has gone down. then restrained himself. "Cocles and Julie. "saved by the crew of the vessel that has just entered the harbor. then?" said Morrel in a hoarse voice. and the young girl. "Come in. father!" said she. The young girl did not speak. "How did this happen?" said Morrel. "for I presume you are all at the door. and retired into the farthest and most obscure corner of the apartment. "Saved." said Morrel. Emmanuel stood in the centre of the chamber and seemed to form the link between Morrel's family and the sailors at the door. clasping her hands. "Oh. "forgive your child for being the bearer of evil tidings. At the sight of these men the Englishman started and advanced a step." Morrel raised his two hands to heaven with an expression of resignation and sublime gratitude. "Thanks. her eyes bathed with tears. supporting himself by the arm of the chair. ." said the girl. my God. "at least thou strikest but me alone. Madame Morrel sat down by her husband and took one of his hands in hers." A tear moistened the eye of the phlegmatic Englishman." said he. "And the crew?" asked Morrel. come in. father." murmured Morrel. appeared. Morrel rose tremblingly. Julie threw herself into his arms. Julie still lay with her head on his shoulder.

all hands! Take in the studding−sl's and stow the flying jib. the squall was on us. and you will see him in a few days all alive and hearty. placed his hand before his mouth.' You could see the wind coming like the dust at Montredon.' said the captain. `we shall have a gale. Penelon. all hands lower the mains'l!' Five minutes after. when Captain Gaumard comes up to me −− I was at the helm I should tell you −− and says.' I says. Morrel. `I still think you've got too much on. M. it was down. M. turned his head." said he.' said the captain. who could not refrain from smiling through his tears." said the young man." "Well. We are carrying too much canvas." Penelon rolled his quid in his cheek. now tell your story. advanced. we shall have a tempest. Penelon." An old seaman. and the vessel began to heel. −− "You see. twirling the remains of a tarpaulin between his hands. Morrel. "Good−day. "we were somewhere between Cape Blanc and Cape Boyador. "and tell us all about it.' −− `That's my opinion too. but please God. −− he has stayed behind sick at Palma.' answered he. it won't be much. and that they would not be so black if they didn't mean mischief. as if he had just quitted Marseilles the previous evening. Avast. `what makes you shake your head?' `Why. "where is the captain?" "The captain. what do you think of those clouds coming up over there?' I was just then looking at them myself." said he. and sent a long jet of tobacco−juice into the antechamber. `we have still too much canvas set. `Penelon. `Well. bronzed by the tropical sun." returned Morrel.' `A gale? More than that. . there. Penelon. advanced his foot.Chapter 29 335 "Draw nearer. and had just returned from Aix or Toulon. M. Penelon. south−south−west after a week's calm. "Good−day. or I don't know what's what. balanced himself. `Ah. Morrel. and we sailed under mizzen−tops'ls and to'gall'nt sails. and began. sailing with a fair breeze.' It was time.' `I think you're right. `and I'll take precautions accordingly. captain? Why I think that they are rising faster than they have any business to do.' said the captain. `What do I think.

not much. "There's nothing gives you so much courage as good reasons. but in twelve hours that makes two feet." continued the sailor.' Now." said the Englishman. Penelon. `we have done all in our power. but it was too late. and the sea gone down. there was already three feet of water. `All hands to the pumps!' I shouted.' I gave him the helm. Morrel will have nothing to reproach us with. `very well. after four hours' work." said the old sailor respectfully. and it seemed the more we pumped the more came in. only two inches an hour." said the Englishman. and three we had before. ten minutes after we struck our tops'ls and scudded under bare poles. Penelon put his hand over his eyes. we have tried to save the ship. and go down into the hold.' said he. and M. but the water kept rising. `Take in two reefs in the tops'ls. Two inches an hour does not seem much. we can die but once. after pitching heavily for twelve hours we sprung a leak.'" "That was not enough for those latitudes.' said I. haul out the reef−tackles on the yards. wait a minute. as quick as you can. it was that that did the business. and unexpected voice made every one start.Chapter 29 336 luckily the captain understood his business. let us sink. `Come." "The vessel was very old to risk that.' cries the captain.' said the captain.' cried the captain. To the boats. "I should have taken four reefs in the topsails and furled the spanker. `I will blow the brains out of the first man who leaves the pump." His firm. `since we are sinking. "We did better than that. and descended. let us now save ourselves. and then stared at the man who thus criticized the manoeuvres of his captain. lower the to'gall'nt sails. "we put the helm up to run before the tempest. that makes five. my lads. `Penelon. `let go the bowlin's.' `That's the example you set. give me the helm. "and during that time the wind had abated. haul the brace." continued . but still it rose.' said the captain.' He went into his cabin and came back with a brace of pistols. `Ah." "Well done!" said the Englishman. "Eh. sir. sonorous. `I think we are sinking.

"Well. that's the whole truth. you fellows there?" A general murmur of approbation showed that the narrator had faithfully detailed their misfortunes and sufferings. that the ship was sinking under us. and took us all on board. so that we began to think of drawing lots who should feed the rest." Penelon turned to his companions." said Morrel. he did not descend. and the little money that remains to me is not my own. we made signals of distress.Chapter 29 337 Penelon." added be. "as for that" −− . Give them. "you see. Morrel. he would not quit the vessel. Morrel. two hundred francs over as a present. What wages are due to you?" "Oh. three months. Ten minutes after she pitched forward. but still more to his life. for just as I jumped the deck burst with a noise like the broadside of a man−of−war. "I should have said. then the other way. The captain descended last. she perceived us. on the honor of a sailor." "Yes. "As for that." said Penelon. Morrel. besides.' We soon launched the boat. M. don't let us talk of that. M. and then I jumped after him. "At another time. M. again turning his quid. spun round and round. `Get along −− save yourselves. when we saw La Gironde. pay two hundred francs to each of these good fellows. a sailor is attached to his ship. "I know there was no one in fault but destiny. and exchanged a few words with them. made for us. It was time. and seemed to say. or rather. blessed be his name. is not it true. and then good−by to the Pharaon." said he. then. but we will talk of it. well. "Cocles." said M. but times are changed. and all eight of us got into it. Morrel. M. so I took him round the waist. Morrel. and threw him into the boat. so we did not wait to be told twice. we were three days without anything to eat or drink. There now." "Well. It was the will of God that this should happen. the more so. As for us.

" He made a sign to Cocles. who went first." said M. I hope so.Chapter 29 338 "As for what?" "The money. the seamen followed him and Emmanuel brought up the rear. "Now. we can scud. we shall see each other again. enough!" cried Morrel. my friends. no. M. Morrel. almost overpowered. like the Pharaon. quite the contrary. under bare poles." "I have no money to build ships with. "so I cannot accept your kind offer. Emmanuel. go with them. and I do not send you away." "No more money? Then you must not pay us. "Yes. I pray you. Penelon. thanks!" cried Morrel gratefully. we all say that fifty francs will be enough for us at present. "leave me." "At least." "Thanks. "you send us away. and therefore I do not want any sailors. at least." "No more ships!" returned Penelon. Morrel!" said he in a low voice." "Well" −− "Well. enter his service. "I am not angry. and that we will wait for the rest." These last words produced a prodigious effect on the seaman." . we shall meet again in a happier time." said the poor owner mournfully. M. "take it −− take it. we'll wait for you. and if you can find another employer. but I have no more ships. "What. Now go. and see that my orders are executed. "well. Morrel?" asked Penelon. you are then angry with us!" "No." "Enough. Penelon nearly swallowed his quid. you'll build some. you are free to do so. then. fortunately he recovered.

as she left the apartment." returned the Englishman. and I have nothing further to tell you." replied the stranger. are the first that will fall due." And he glanced towards the clerk of Thomson & French. except the few words we have mentioned." said Morrel. "But. "that a fresh and unmerited misfortune his overwhelmed you. sir. sinking into a chair. and retired. The two women looked at this person whose presence they had entirely forgotten. sir!" cried Morrel. "leave me. "Let me see. "I am one of your largest creditors. "will the house of Thomson & French consent?" "Oh. to which he replied by a smile that an indifferent spectator would have been surprised to see on his stern features." "Yes." asked Morrel. who had remained motionless in the corner during this scene. I wish to speak with this gentleman. To−day is the 5th of June." continued the stranger. "Well." "Your bills. The two men were left alone." "I see." "How long a delay do you wish for?" −− Morrel reflected. but. at least. and consequently my life.Chapter 29 339 said the owner to his wife and daughter. "you have heard all. and this only increases my desire to serve you. I take everything on myself. in which he had taken no part. "Two months." . "I will give you three." said he. Julie gave the stranger a supplicating glance." "Oh." "Do you wish for time to pay?" "A delay would save my honor.

The stranger met Julie on the stairs. "and I will pay you −− or I shall he dead. Continue to be the good." "Yes. who. Adieu. renew these bills up to the 5th of September. overwhelming him with grateful blessings. and Morrel. conducted him to the staircase." "It is well. and I have great hopes that heaven will reward you by giving you Emmanuel for a husband. "Oh. and on the 5th of September at eleven o'clock (the hand of the clock pointed to eleven)." "I shall expect you. sir. however strange it may appear. mademoiselle.Chapter 29 340 "Well. "Mademoiselle. she pretended to be descending. but in reality she was waiting for him. seemed unable to make up his mind to retain them. and the poor ship−owner found himself with three months before him to collect his resources. my friend. and leaned against the baluster. The bills were renewed. "one day you will receive a letter signed `Sinbad the Sailor. with a rouleau of a hundred francs in either hand. "I wish to speak to you. The Englishman received his thanks with the phlegm peculiar to his nation. "Come with me." Julie uttered a faint cry." said the stranger. sir" −− said she." said the Englishman. sweet girl you are at present. "Do you promise?" "I swear to you I will. I shall come to receive the money. The stranger waved his hand. the old ones destroyed." returned Morrel. In the court he found Penelon." These last words were uttered in so low a tone that the stranger could not hear them." returned Julie. clasping her hands. and continued to descend.' Do exactly what the letter bids you." . blushed like a rose.

that if he had to repay on the 15th the 50. The opinion of all the commercial men was that. he cancelled all his obligations with his usual punctuality. however. it was impossible for him to remain solvent. and get only six or eight per cent of our money back again. therefore. were paid by Cocles with equal punctuality. he could by no means account for this generous conduct on the part of Thomson & French towards him. de Boville. and.500 francs of bills. Unfortunately. as he had said. if not of tranquillity. all Morrel's correspondents did not take this view.000 francs of M. was to the poor shipowner so decided a stroke of good fortune that he almost dared to believe that fate was at length grown weary of wasting her spite upon him. The month passed.Chapter 30 341 Chapter 30 The Fifth of September. and. and on the 30th the 32. Still confidence was not restored to all minds. at the moment when Morrel expected it least. he had time granted. and a ray of hope. thanks to the delay granted by the Englishman.000 francs. for which. he must be a ruined man. as well as the debt due to the inspector of prisons. The same day he told his wife. in business he had correspondents. whether through envy or stupidity. The bills signed by Morrel were presented at his office with scrupulous exactitude. and not friends. When he thought the matter over. Emmanuel. and his daughter all that had occurred. It was Morrel alone who remembered with alarm. Cocles thus remained in his accustomed tranquillity. and could only attribute it to some such selfish argument as this: −− "We had better help a man who owes us nearly 300. Morrel had not only engagements with the house of Thomson & French." Unfortunately. returned to the family. and some even came to a contrary decision. under the reverses which had successively weighed down Morrel.000 francs at the end of three months than hasten his ruin. and have those 300. and the general opinion was that the complete ruin of the unfortunate shipowner had been postponed only until the end of the month. was the astonishment when at the end of the month. The extension provided for by the agent of Thomson & French. Great. who had shown themselves so considerate towards him. and Morrel made .

stared stupidly with his great eyes. recovered from his illness. and to offer him employment from his new master. "may your new master love you as I loved you. Fortunately. made good use of his money. and none of the banks would give him credit. from Penelon's recital. "Worthy fellows!" said Morrel. He brought him also the amount of his wages. the worthy tar seemed much embarrassed. as he went away. hearing of his arrival. He delayed presenting himself at Morrel's. he found himself in a condition to meet his engagements when the end of July came. he had disappeared. and M. for he was newly clad. Morrel now tried to negotiate bills at ninety days only.Chapter 30 342 extraordinary efforts to get in all his resources. Morrel. Formerly his paper. drew on one side into the corner of the landing−place. his departure left no trace except in the memories of these three persons. and as in that city he had had no intercourse but with the mayor. and thus his bashfulness arose from the fact of his not having. as they reached him. and was even in request. Morrel attributed Penelon's embarrassment to the elegance of his attire. for they also had disappeared. Morrel met Penelon. but the owner. at any date. and be more fortunate than I have been!" . The agent of Thomson & French had not been again seen at Marseilles. When he saw his employer. of the captain's brave conduct during the storm. the day after. and only acknowledged the squeeze of the hand which Morrel as usual gave him by a slight pressure in return. Captain Gaumard. they must have found snug berths elsewhere. no doubt. Penelon had. The worthy shipowner knew. it would seem. As he descended the staircase. which Captain Gaumard had not dared to apply for. the inspector of prisons. had returned from Palma. it was evident the good fellow had not gone to such an expense on his own account. As to the sailors of the Pharaon. he was. if we may so express ourselves. and. worn mourning for the Pharaon longer. engaged on board some other vessel. Morrel had some funds coming in on which he could rely. Perhaps he had come to tell Captain Gaumard of his good luck. was taken with confidence. and tried to console him. went to see him. passed his quid from one cheek to the other. who was going up. or two days after his visit to Morrel.

On the 20th of August it was known at Marseilles that he had left town in the mailcoach. with the tenacity peculiar to prophets of bad news. and his cashier Cocles. Morrel had long thought of Danglars. he was awaited by his family with extreme anxiety. though hardly two and twenty. the failure was put off until the end of September. pressed Emmanuel's hand with friendly warmth. Maximilian Morrel. and that Morrel had gone away and left his chief clerk Emmanuel. Yet. and then. and then it was said that the bills would go to protest at the end of the month. The poor women felt instinctively that they required all their strength to support the blow that impended. and Cocles appeared behind the grating of the counter. with whom he had laid the foundations of his vast wealth. paid all with the usual precision. Morrel had thought of Danglars. without taking a crown from his pocket. He embraced his weeping wife and daughter.Chapter 30 343 August rolled by in unceasing efforts on the part of Morrel to renew his credit or revive the old. and which Cocles paid as punctually as the bills which the shipowner had accepted. There came in. to meet the creditors. for from this journey to Paris they hoped great things. who was now immensely rich. since to him it was owing that Danglars entered the service of the Spanish banker. Morrel did not utter a complaint. or say one harsh word. then. "we are indeed ruined. he had but to pass his word for a loan. for he returned home crushed by the humiliation of a refusal. and had delayed as long as possible availing himself of this last resource. had great influence over his father. when the 31st of August came. could save Morrel. On the 1st. Besides. two drafts which M. Danglars. It was said at this moment that Danglars was worth from six to eight millions of francs. And Morrel was right. who was in garrison at Nimes. contrary to all expectation. the house opened as usual. from first to last. and had lain under great obligations to Morrel in former days." It was agreed in a brief council held among them. He was a . and." said the two women to Emmanuel. and had unlimited credit. moreover. and then going to his private room on the second floor had sent for Cocles. examined all bills presented with the usual scrutiny. on his arrival. that Julie should write to her brother. But. to come to them as speedily as possible. Morrel had fully anticipated. All this was incomprehensible. Morrel returned. and Morrel was saved. "Then. but had kept away from some instinctive motive.

his bills receivable up to the 5th to 4. mademoiselle. After dinner Morrel usually went out and used to take his coffee at the Phocaean club. making the best of everything. For part of the day he went into the court−yard. and did not even know what it meant. They had not mistaken the gravity of this event. when Morrel went down to his dinner. but his .000 or 5. and read the Semaphore.000 francs to meet debts amounting to 287. he seemed completely bewildered. "Oh. upright young man." We need hardly say that many of those who gave him this epithet repeated it because they had heard it. At the time when he decided on his profession his father had no desire to choose for him. passed brilliantly through the Polytechnic School. not only of the obligations imposed on a soldier. this day he did not leave the house.Chapter 30 344 strong−minded. mademoiselle. and had in consequence studied hard. She would have questioned him as he passed by her. Julie saw the latter leave it pale. 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. and his features betraying the utmost consternation.500 francs. he appeared very calm. As to Cocles.000. For a year he had held this rank. opened the portfolio. and only raised his hands to heaven and exclaimed. which. and a bag of money. This calmness was more alarming to the two women than the deepest dejection would have been. seated himself on a stone with his head bare and exposed to the blazing sun. for the moment after Morrel had entered his private office with Cocles.000 francs. but had consulted young Maximilian's taste. Morrel examined the ledgers. but returned to his office. gave him 14. and left it as sub−lieutenant of the 53d of the line. He had not even the means for making a possible settlement on account. 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 at once declared for a military life. In his regiment Maximilian Morrel was noted for his rigid observance. All his funds amounted to 6. a portfolio. but the worthy creature hastened down the staircase with unusual precipitation. and he thus gained the name of "the stoic. However. and counted the money. but also of the duties of a man.000. Emmanuel tried to comfort the women. or 8. and expected promotion on the first vacancy. trembling.

The young lady went towards Madame Morrel. and fastened the door inside. took off her shoes. had anticipated her mother. it was Julie.Chapter 30 345 eloquence faltered. The young man was too well acquainted with the business of the house. Morrel was writing. They listened. Julie told her mother. but instead of going to her apartment she hastened to consult . which seemed to her of bad omen. On the evening of the 4th of September. but Madame Morrel remarked. "What have I done wrong. and yet had not strength to utter a word. to see through the keyhole what her husband was doing. In the evening. "I must have left it in my room. −− "nothing. Madame Morrel sent her daughter to bed. Why did her father ask for this key which she always kept. came to his breakfast punctually. that although he was apparently so calm." she said. what her daughter had not observed. Morrel asked his daughter for the key of his study. Madame Morrel looked again through the keyhole. that her husband was writing on stamped paper. and held her for a long time against his bosom. They had understood each other without speaking. Next day M. and went stealthily along the passage. the two women had watched. only I want it." Julie made a pretence to feel for the key. who. and which was only taken from her in childhood as a punishment? The young girl looked at Morrel. Morrel seemed as calm as ever. And she went out. he went into his sleeping−room. and then. after dinner." she said. the tears starting to his eyes at this simple question. M. uneasy herself. and half an hour after Julie had retired. she had noticed that her father's heart beat violently. he placed his daughter beside him. hoping that when he left his room Morrel would come to them. The terrible idea that he was writing his will flashed across her. The next two days passed in much the same way. took her head in his arms." she said. she rose. "that you should take this key from me?" "Nothing. my dear. not to feel that a great catastrophe hung over the Morrel family. Julie trembled at this request. and trying to conceal the noise of his footsteps. but they heard him pass before their door. went into his office as usual. In the passage she saw a retreating shadow. Night came. she shuddered. father. "He is writing." replied the unhappy man.

or would not say what he knew. and a mouth pressed her forehead. she heard her husband pacing the room in great agitation. She remained at the same spot standing mute and motionless. This was the first time Morrel had ever so spoken. Morrel was kinder to his wife. "Maximilian. "Mother. and. but the agitation of the night was legible in his pale and careworn visage. "Do not give this key to your father. The mother and daughter passed the night together." said the young man. Madame Morrel remained listening for every sound. At these words Madame Morrel rose. mindful of Emmanuel's request. They had expected Maximilian since the previous evening. but he said it in a tone of paternal kindness. "Are you not Mademoiselle Julie Morrel?" inquired the man." "Julie. but he said to her quickly. . looking alternately at Madame Morrel and her daughter. but he knew nothing." The young lady rushed out of the apartment. but on the first step of the staircase she found a man holding a letter in his hand. They did not dare to ask him how he had slept. and threw herself into her son's arms. if possible. Julie.Chapter 30 346 Emmanuel. An instant afterwards the door opened. with a strong Italian accent. dearest." said he. At eight o'clock in the morning Morrel entered their chamber. "what has occurred −− what has happened? Your letter has frightened me. until three o'clock in the morning. During the night. "I wish you to do so. −− "Remain with your mother." said he. and I have come hither with all speed. more affectionate to his daughter. my dearest brother!" she cried." She questioned Emmanuel. between the 4th and 5th of September. she felt two arms encircle her. He could not cease gazing at and kissing the sweet girl. and Julie did not dare to disobey. do not quit him for a moment. was following her father when he quitted the room." said Madame Morrel. "go and tell your father that Maximilian has just arrived. She looked up and uttered an exclamation of joy. It was three o'clock when he threw himself on the bed. making a sign to the young man." Julie wished to accompany him. "and to−morrow morning. than he had ever been. He was calm.

" "Read this letter. "Sinbad the Sailor. "what is your pleasure? I do not know you.Chapter 30 347 "Yes. 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." replied Julie with hesitation. take from the corner of the mantelpiece a purse netted in red silk. The young girl hastily took the letter from him. it may be observed. handing it to her. sir." This postscript decreased greatly the young girl's happiness. the porter will reply that he does not know anything about it. It is important that he should receive it before eleven o'clock. but he had disappeared. "It concerns the best interests of your father. If you go accompanied by any other person. She cast her eyes again over the note to peruse it a second time." said the messenger. She opened it quickly and read: −− "Go this moment to the Allees de Meillan. raised her eyes. Remember your oath. enter the apartment. looked round to question the messenger. indeed. or should any one else go in your place. and saw there was a postscript. She read: −− "It is important that you should fulfil this mission in person and alone. but to Emmanuel." The young girl uttered a joyful cry. through a singular impulse. enter the house No. related the . You promised to obey me implicitly. Yet. ask the porter for the key of the room on the fifth floor. 15." he said. and resolved to take counsel. Julie hesitated. that it is usually unknown perils that inspire the greatest terror. Julie hesitated. it was neither to her mother nor her brother that she applied. She hastened down and told him what had occurred on the day when the agent of Thomson & French had come to her father's. and give it to your father. But there is no need to know danger in order to fear it.

" . Emmanuel?" said the young girl with hesitation. Did not the messenger say your father's safety depended upon it?" "But what danger threatens him. "we have not fifteen thousand francs in the house. "it is your opinion that I should obey this invitation?" "Yes. then. "You must go. mademoiselle. then. "I will await you at the corner of the Rue de Musee. then. and showed him the letter. Emmanuel hesitated a moment. Emmanuel?" she asked." continued Emmanuel. I will accompany you. then. "to−day is the 5th of September. "Yes." he said." replied the young man. at eleven o'clock. "Go there?" murmured Julie. your father has nearly three hundred thousand francs to pay?" "Yes. we know that." said Emmanuel. "Listen. is it not?" "Yes. repeated the promise she had made. and woe to him of whom you shall have cause to complain to me!" "Then." "But did you not read that I must be alone?" said Julie." "Well. but his desire to make Julie decide immediately made him reply. "And you shall be alone. I will hasten to rejoin you. and if you are so long absent as to make me uneasy.Chapter 30 348 scene on the staircase." "To−day.

come!" cried she. Come. and closed it . He was thunderstruck. then. of whose arrival he was ignorant." he exclaimed. Morrel had returned to his bed−chamber. Maximilian sprang down the staircase. he ran up−stairs. but he did not know that matters had reached such a point." exclaimed the young man. "what are you going to do with that brace of pistols under your coat?" "Oh. "Father. Madame Morrel had told her son everything.Chapter 30 349 "What will happen then?" "Why. great changes had taken place in the style of living and housekeeping." "Oh. The young man knew quite well that. in heaven's name. if to−day before eleven o'clock your father has not found someone who will come to his aid. and threw his arms round his father's neck. turned. while Maximilian followed him. after the succession of misfortunes which had befallen his father. pressing with his left hand something he had concealed under his coat. Morrel opened the door. and placed his right hand on Morrel's breast. but he rapped there in vain. rushing hastily out of the apartment. which he was only this moment quitting. "you are a man. "Father. Then. Morrel uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of his son. hastening away with the young man. come. turning pale as death. "what are these weapons for?" "Maximilian. During this time. He remained motionless on the spot. and a man of honor. M. While he was yet at the door of the study he heard the bedroom door open. looking fixedly at his son. but suddenly he recoiled." replied Morrel. and saw his father. and I will explain to you. trembling as he went. expecting to find his father in his study. father. he will be compelled at twelve o'clock to declare himself a bankrupt. this is what I feared!" said Morrel. Instead of going direct to his study." And with a firm step Morrel went up to his study.

"There is one for you and one for me −− thanks!" Morrel caught his hand. and then judge for yourself.500 francs. went to his desk on which he placed the pistols. father. father. Morrel had to pay.257 francs.Chapter 30 350 behind his son. Maximilian. 287. he said. Maximilian. crossing the anteroom." 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." Then extending his hand towards one of the pistols. "You are right. "You have no money coming in on which you can rely?" "None. I understand you. and pointed with his finger to an open ledger." said Morrel. "Father. "our name is dishonored!" "Blood washes out dishonor." "And in half an hour. "I have. Morrel said not a word. then." . "Your mother −− your sister! Who will support them?" A shudder ran through the young man's frame. "it is your duty. to meet this disastrous result?" asked the young man." answered Morrel. I make no requests or commands. I only ask you to examine my position as if it were your own. after a moment's pause. strong mind. "do you reflect that you are bidding me to live?" "Yes. In this ledger was made out an exact balance−sheet of his affair's. I do so bid you." "You have exhausted every resource?" "All. You have a calm." replied Morrel. within half an hour." he said. All he possessed was 15. you are no ordinary man. "Read!" said Morrel. The young man was overwhelmed as he read.

who say through me. all would be changed. providence may build up again. my son. `My father died because he could not do what I have this day done. yourself. the insignia of his rank. on the contrary. extending his hand to Morrel. "die in peace. so that from day to day the property of those whom I leave in your hands may augment and fructify. that day of complete restoration. labor. "You know it is not my fault. I die. drew him forward.Chapter 30 351 The young man reflected for a moment. and in the name of three generations of irreproachable men. struggle ardently and courageously. Reflect how glorious a day it will be. only a bankrupt. but Maximilian caught him in his arms. "Be it so. Maximilian smiled. my father." said Morrel. my father!" cried the young man. and kissing his forehead several times said." "My father. then. if I live I am only a man who his broken his word. young man. go and rejoin your mother and sister. my father. Then do your best to keep our name free from dishonor. I bless you in my own name. And now there is no more to be said. then an expression of sublime resignation appeared in his eyes. pity into hostility. yes. "bless me!" Morrel took the head of his son between his two hands." "Good. `The edifice which misfortune has destroyed. how solemn. your mother and sister. "I know. father. "Oh." Morrel was about to cast himself on his knees before his son. you are the most honorable man I have ever known. bending his knee. interest would be converted into doubt. and with a slow and sad gesture he took off his two epaulets. because in dying he knew what I should do. on which you will say in this very office. remember. and those two noble hearts were pressed against each other for a moment." he said. If. my corpse is that of an honest but unfortunate . "why should you not live?" "If I live. the most inexorable will have pity on you. they will accord the time they have refused to me. but he died calmly and peaceably. live." said the young man.'" "My father. with the most rigid economy. if I live. perhaps. I will live.' On seeing me die such a death. how grand. Go to work. failed in his engagements −− in fact. To you. yes. Maximilian.

" "Will you not see my sister once more?" asked Maximilian. and therefore he had suggested it. You will find my will in the secretary in my bedroom. "Yes. and respect this man. my father?" inquired Maximilian in a faltering voice. I would be alone." "Father. and bade her adieu. for the first time. "And now. you may raise your head and say. Let this house be the first repaid. Its agent. once more. Living. Morrel shook his head." said Morrel. Living. and endeavor to keep your mother and sister away. my father. from humanity. all Marseilles will follow me in tears to my last home. my son. leave me. who will in ten minutes present himself to receive the amount of a bill of 287. I will not say granted." "Say it." "Have you no particular commands to leave with me. I will. or. my best friends would avoid my house. you would feel shame at my name. he has been compelled to break his word.'" The young man uttered a groan. "leave me alone. selfishness −− it is not for me to read men's hearts −− has had any pity for me. and a sacred command. because. adieu. but appeared resigned. "And now. A last but final hope was concealed by the young man in the effect of this interview.Chapter 30 352 man." "The house of Thomson & French is the only one who. dead. my son." said Maximilian. dead.500 francs. but offered me three months." said Morrel. it may be." . `I am the son of him you killed. "I saw her this morning. "Go.

father. Morrel remained an instant standing with his eyes fixed on the door. announce his arrival to me. my father." said Morrel in a tone impossible to describe. Cocles appeared. It was no longer the same man −− the fearful revelations of the three last days had crushed him. would you not say to me. his eyes fixed on the clock.Chapter 30 353 The young man remained standing and motionless. for you are dishonored by delay. yes. even life itself. "My worthy Cocles. `Go. having but the force of will and not the power of execution. "Be it so. he said. he was surrounded by the loving care of a devoted family. When his son had left him. went into the anteroom. there were seven minutes left." said his father. This thought −− the house of Morrel is about to stop payment −− bent him to the earth more than twenty years would otherwise have done. To form the slightest idea of his feelings. and seated himself. but he had convinced himself by a course of reasoning. "Hear me. "Suppose I was a soldier like you. and you knew I must be killed in the assault. he pulled the bell. "yes. Maximilian. He was still comparatively young. illogical perhaps." said the young man. and ordered to carry a certain redoubt. yet certainly plausible. one must have seen his face with its expression of enforced resignation and its tear−moistened eyes . that he must separate himself from all he held dear in the world. "do you remain in the ante−chamber. When the gentleman who came three months ago −− the agent of Thomson & French −− arrives. and death is preferable to shame!'" "Yes. he seemed to see its motion. Morrel fell back in his chair. The hand moved on with incredible rapidity. he made a sign with his head. What passed in the mind of this man at the supreme moment of his agony cannot be told in words. then putting forth his arm. that was all." and once again embracing his father with convulsive pressure." And he rushed out of the study. After a moment's interval." Cocles made no reply. as you said just now.

counting time now not by minutes. At this moment of mortal anguish the cold sweat came forth upon his brow. out of breath. "The agent of Thomson & French. my child. and murmured his daughter's name. and wrote a few words." he said. for a vague remembrance reminded him that it once belonged to himself. He turned and saw Julie. and at the other was a diamond as large as a hazel−nut. 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. netted silk purse.000 francs." he said. "My father!" cried the young girl. "Explain. with these words on a small slip of parchment: −− Julie's Dowry." He placed the muzzle of the pistol between his teeth. He took up the deadly weapon again. took one up. "Explain. his lips parted and his eyes fixed on the clock. "Saved. Morrel passed his hand over his brow. and started as he did so. The pistols were loaded. At one end was the receipted bill for the 287. "explain −− where did you find this purse?" . It seemed to him as if he had not taken a sufficient farewell of his beloved daughter. The minute hand moved on. The pistol fell from his hands. but by seconds. At this moment the clock struck eleven. you are saved!" And she threw herself into his arms. Then he turned again to the clock. and half dead with joy −− "saved. He felt as if each stroke of the hammer fell upon his heart. holding in her extended hand a red. he stretched forth his hand.Chapter 30 354 raised to heaven. Suddenly he heard a cry −− it was his daughter's voice. see!" said the young girl. Morrel took the purse. a pang stronger than death clutched at his heart−strings. my child. Then he laid it down seized his pen. and then shuddered at the click of the trigger as he cocked the pistol. "what do you mean?" "Yes. Morrel did not turn round −− he expected these words of Cocles. my child!" said Morrel. saved −− saved! See. it seemed to him a dream.

" said Morrel. Emmanuel? You know the vessel is lost. "The Pharaon!" he cried. But his son came in. "Ah. "what can it mean? −− the Pharaon?" . unheard−of. strange to say. father. his countenance full of animation and joy. he was not there when I returned. the acceptance receipted −− the splendid diamond." "My dear friends. refused to comprehend such incredible. No. 15. on the corner of a mantelpiece in a small room on the fifth floor. but. "And did you go alone?" asked Morrel. "Father. his strength was failing him.Chapter 30 355 "In a house in the Allees de Meillan. "if this be so. sir −− they signal the Pharaon! The Pharaon is entering the harbor!" Morrel fell back in his chair. "Emmanuel accompanied me." "The Pharaon. it must be a miracle of heaven! Impossible. "how could you say the Pharaon was lost? The lookout has signalled her. his understanding weakened by such events. He was to have waited for me at the corner of the Rue de Musee. sir." cried Maximilian. impossible!" But what was real and not less incredible was the purse he held in his hand. after he had read it. fabulous facts. "this purse is not yours!" Julie handed to her father the letter she had received in the morning." exclaimed Cocles." "But." "Monsieur Morrel!" exclaimed a voice on the stairs. At this moment Emmanuel entered. and they say she is now coming into port." cried Morrel. "the Pharaon!" "What −− what −− the Pharaon! Are you mad. −− "Monsieur Morrel!" "It is his voice!" said Julie.

and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like your good deeds. concealed behind the sentry−box. weeping with joy. noble heart. In a moment they were at the Cannebiere. and on the stairs met Madame Morrel. and on the deck was Captain Gaumard giving orders. Morrel & Son. the Pharaon!" said every voice. rising from his seat. of Marseilles. 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. and heaven have pity upon us if it be false intelligence!" They all went out. "The Pharaon." said the unknown. as that had been. a man. he left his hiding−place. in front of the tower of Saint−Jean. thence he once again looked towards Morrel. was shaking hands most cordially with all the crowd around him. on whose deck he sprung with the activity of a sailor. and conveyed him to a yacht splendidly fitted up. "let us go and see. printed in white letters. She cast anchor. shouted "Jacopo. and hailing three times. clued up sails. "farewell kindness. wonderful to see." She was the exact duplicate of the other Pharaon. and ten thousand persons who came to corroborate the testimony. and good old Penelon making signals to M. humanity. Morrel. who had been afraid to go up into the study. To doubt any longer was impossible. the yacht instantly put out to sea. And. as if only awaiting this signal. dear ones. Jacopo!" Then a launch came to shore. and loaded. There was a crowd on the pier. who. and. was a ship bearing on her stern these words. . Jacopo. and who. took him on board. with cochineal and indigo. "The Pharaon." And with a smile expressive of supreme content. in the presence and amid the applause of the whole city witnessing this event." said Morrel.Chapter 30 356 "Come. and without being observed. there was the evidence of the senses. "And now. with his face half−covered by a black beard. watched the scene with delight. 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. be blessed for all the good thou hast done and wilt do hereafter. All the crowd gave way before Morrel. uttered these words in a low tone: "Be happy. descended one of the flights of steps provided for debarkation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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other escort than these men, on an island which had, indeed, a very religious name, but which did not seem to Franz likely to afford him much hospitality, thanks to the smugglers and bandits. The history of the scuttled vessels, which had appeared improbable during the day, seemed very probable at night; placed as he was between two possible sources of danger, he kept his eye on the crew, and his gun in his hand. The sailors had again hoisted sail, and the vessel was once more cleaving the waves. Through the darkness Franz, whose eyes were now more accustomed to it, could see the looming shore along which the boat was sailing, and then, as they rounded a rocky point, he saw the fire more brilliant than ever, and about it five or six persons seated. The blaze illumined the sea for a hundred paces around. Gaetano skirted the light, carefully keeping the boat in the shadow; then, when they were opposite the fire, he steered to the centre of the circle, singing a fishing song, of which his companions sung the chorus. At the first words of the song the men seated round the fire arose and approached the landing−place, their eyes fixed on the boat, evidently seeking to know who the new−comers were and what were their intentions. They soon appeared satisfied and returned (with the exception of one, who remained at the shore) to their fire, at which the carcass of a goat was roasting. When the boat was within twenty paces of the shore, the man on the beach, who carried a carbine, presented arms after the manner of a sentinel, and cried, "Who comes there?" in Sardinian. Franz coolly cocked both barrels. Gaetano then exchanged a few words with this man which the traveller did not understand, but which evidently concerned him. "Will your excellency give your name, or remain incognito?" asked the captain. "My name must rest unknown, −− merely say I am a Frenchman travelling for pleasure." As soon as Gaetano had transmitted this answer, the sentinel gave an order to one of the men seated round the fire, who rose and disappeared among the rocks. Not a word was spoken, every one seemed occupied, Franz with his disembarkment, the sailors with their sails, the smugglers with their goat; but in the midst of all this carelessness it was evident that they mutually observed each other. The man who had disappeared returned suddenly on the opposite side to that by which he had left; he made a sign with his head to the sentinel, who, turning to the boat, said, "S'accommodi." The Italian s'accommodi is untranslatable; it means at

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

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"On the contrary," returned Gaetano, "the chief, who was told you were a young Frenchman, invites you to sup with him." "Well," observed Franz, "this chief is very polite, and I see no objection −− the more so as I bring my share of the supper." "Oh, it is not that; he has plenty, and to spare, for supper; but he makes one condition, and rather a peculiar one, before he will receive you at his house." "His house? Has he built one here, then?" "No; but he has a very comfortable one all the same, so they say." "You know this chief, then?" "I have heard talk of him." "Favorably or otherwise?" "Both." "The deuce! −− and what is this condition?" "That you are blindfolded, and do not take off the bandage until he himself bids you." Franz looked at Gaetano, to see, if possible, what he thought of this proposal. "Ah," replied he, guessing Franz's thought, "I know this is a serious matter." "What should you do in my place?" "I, who have nothing to lose, −− I should go." "You would accept?" "Yes, were it only out of curiosity."

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"There is something very peculiar about this chief, then?" "Listen," said Gaetano, lowering his voice, "I do not know if what they say is true" −− he stopped to see if any one was near. "What do they say?" "That this chief inhabits a cavern to which the Pitti Palace is nothing." "What nonsense!" said Franz, reseating himself. "It is no nonsense; it is quite true. Cama, the pilot of the Saint Ferdinand, went in once, and he came back amazed, vowing that such treasures were only to be heard of in fairy tales." "Do you know," observed Franz, "that with such stories you make me think of Ali Baba's enchanted cavern?" "I tell you what I have been told." "Then you advise me to accept?" "Oh, I don't say that; your excellency will do as you please; I should be sorry to advise you in the matter." Franz pondered the matter for a few moments, concluded that a man so rich could not have any intention of plundering him of what little he had, and seeing only the prospect of a good supper, accepted. Gaetano departed with the reply. Franz was prudent, and wished to learn all he possibly could concerning his host. He turned towards the sailor, who, during this dialogue, had sat gravely plucking the partridges with the air of a man proud of his office, and asked him how these men had landed, as no vessel of any kind was visible. "Never mind that," returned the sailor, "I know their vessel." "Is it a very beautiful vessel?"

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"I would not wish for a better to sail round the world." "Of what burden is she?" "About a hundred tons; but she is built to stand any weather. She is what the English call a yacht." "Where was she built?" "I know not; but my own opinion is she is a Genoese." "And how did a leader of smugglers," continued Franz, "venture to build a vessel designed for such a purpose at Genoa?" "I did not say that the owner was a smuggler," replied the sailor. "No; but Gaetano did, I thought." "Gaetano had only seen the vessel from a distance, he had not then spoken to any one." "And if this person be not a smuggler, who is he?" "A wealthy signor, who travels for his pleasure." "Come," thought Franz, "he is still more mysterious, since the two accounts do not agree." "What is his name?" "If you ask him he says Sinbad the Sailor; but I doubt if it be his real name." "Sinbad the Sailor?" "Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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"Ah, yes, the hashish is beginning its work. Well, unfurl your wings, and fly into superhuman regions; fear nothing, there is a watch over you; and if your wings, like those of Icarus, melt before the sun, we are here to ease your fall." He then said something in Arabic to Ali, who made a sign of obedience and withdrew, but not to any distance. As to Franz a strange transformation had taken place in him. All the bodily fatigue of the day, all the preoccupation of mind which the events of the evening had brought on, disappeared as they do at the first approach of sleep, when we are still sufficiently conscious to be aware of the coming of slumber. His body seemed to acquire an airy lightness, his perception brightened in a remarkable manner, his senses seemed to redouble their power, the horizon continued to expand; but it was not the gloomy horizon of vague alarms, and which he had seen before he slept, but a blue, transparent, unbounded horizon, with all the blue of the ocean, all the spangles of the sun, all the perfumes of the summer breeze; then, in the midst of the songs of his sailors, −− songs so clear and sonorous, that they would have made a divine harmony had their notes been taken down, −− he saw the Island of Monte Cristo, no longer as a threatening rock in the midst of the waves, but as an oasis in the desert; then, as his boat drew nearer, the songs became louder, for an enchanting and mysterious harmony rose to heaven, as if some Loreley had decreed to attract a soul thither, or Amphion, the enchanter, intended there to build a city. At length the boat touched the shore, but without effort, without shock, as lips touch lips; and he entered the grotto amidst continued strains of most delicious melody. He descended, or rather seemed to descend, several steps, inhaling the fresh and balmy air, like that which may be supposed to reign around the grotto of Circe, formed from such perfumes as set the mind a dreaming, and such fires as burn the very senses; and he saw again all he had seen before his sleep, from Sinbad, his singular host, to Ali, the mute attendant; then all seemed to fade away and become confused before his eyes, like the last shadows of the magic lantern before it is extinguished, and he was again in the chamber of statues, lighted only by one of those pale and antique lamps which watch in the dead of the night over the sleep of pleasure. They were the same statues, rich in form, in attraction. and poesy, with eyes of fascination, smiles of love, and bright and flowing hair.

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

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The Waking. When Franz returned to himself, he seemed still to be in a dream. He thought himself in a sepulchre, into which a ray of sunlight in pity scarcely penetrated. He stretched forth his hand, and touched stone; he rose to his seat, and found himself lying on his bournous in a bed of dry heather, very soft and odoriferous. The vision had fled; and as if the statues had been but shadows from the tomb, they had vanished at his waking. He advanced several paces towards the point whence the light came, and to all the

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excitement of his dream succeeded the calmness of reality. He found that he was in a grotto, went towards the opening, and through a kind of fanlight saw a blue sea and an azure sky. The air and water were shining in the beams of the morning sun; on the shore the sailors were sitting, chatting and laughing; and at ten yards from them the boat was at anchor, undulating gracefully on the water. There for some time he enjoyed the fresh breeze which played on his brow, and listened to the dash of the waves on the beach, that left against the rocks a lace of foam as white as silver. He was for some time without reflection or thought for the divine charm which is in the things of nature, specially after a fantastic dream; then gradually this view of the outer world, so calm, so pure, so grand, reminded him of the illusiveness of his vision, and once more awakened memory. He recalled his arrival on the island, his presentation to a smuggler chief, a subterranean palace full of splendor, an excellent supper, and a spoonful of hashish. It seemed, however, even in the very face of open day, that at least a year had elapsed since all these things had passed, so deep was the impression made in his mind by the dream, and so strong a hold had it taken of his imagination. Thus every now and then he saw in fancy amid the sailors, seated on a rock, or undulating in the vessel, one of the shadows which had shared his dream with looks and kisses. Otherwise, his head was perfectly clear, and his body refreshed; he was free from the slightest headache; on the contrary, he felt a certain degree of lightness, a faculty for absorbing the pure air, and enjoying the bright sunshine more vividly than ever. He went gayly up to the sailors, who rose as soon as they perceived him; and the patron, accosting him, said, "The Signor Sinbad has left his compliments for your excellency, and desires us to express the regret he feels at not being able to take his leave in person; but he trusts you will excuse him, as very important business calls him to Malaga." "So, then, Gaetano," said Franz, "this is, then, all reality; there exists a man who has received me in this island, entertained me right royally, and his departed while I was asleep?"

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"He exists as certainly as that you may see his small yacht with all her sails spread; and if you will use your glass, you will, in all probability, recognize your host in the midst of his crew." So saying, Gaetano pointed in a direction in which a small vessel was making sail towards the southern point of Corsica. Franz adjusted his telescope, and directed it towards the yacht. Gaetano was not mistaken. At the stern the mysterious stranger was standing up looking towards the shore, and holding a spy−glass in his hand. He was attired as he had been on the previous evening, and waved his pocket−handkerchief to his guest in token of adieu. Franz returned the salute by shaking his handkerchief as an exchange of signals. After a second, a slight cloud of smoke was seen at the stern of the vessel, which rose gracefully as it expanded in the air, and then Franz heard a slight report. "There, do you hear?" observed Gaetano; "he is bidding you adieu." The young man took his carbine and fired it in the air, but without any idea that the noise could be heard at the distance which separated the yacht from the shore. "What are your excellency's orders?" inquired Gaetano. "In the first place, light me a torch." "Ah, yes, I understand," replied the patron, "to find the entrance to the enchanted apartment. With much pleasure, your excellency, if it would amuse you; and I will get you the torch you ask for. But I too have had the idea you have, and two or three times the same fancy has come over me; but I have always given it up. Giovanni, light a torch," he added, "and give it to his excellency." Giovanni obeyed. Franz took the lamp, and entered the subterranean grotto, followed by Gaetano. He recognized the place where he had awaked by the bed of heather that was there; but it was in vain that he carried his torch all round the exterior surface of the grotto. He saw nothing, unless that, by traces of smoke, others had before him attempted the same thing, and, like him, in vain. Yet he did not leave a foot of this granite wall, as impenetrable as futurity, without strict scrutiny; he did not see a fissure without introducing the blade of his hunting sword into it, or a projecting

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point on which he did not lean and press in the hopes it would give way. All was vain; and he lost two hours in his attempts, which were at last utterly useless. At the end of this time he gave up his search, and Gaetano smiled. When Franz appeared again on the shore, the yacht only seemed like a small white speck on the horizon. He looked again through his glass, but even then he could not distinguish anything. Gaetano reminded him that he had come for the purpose of shooting goats, which he had utterly forgotten. He took his fowling−piece, and began to hunt over the island with the air of a man who is fulfilling a duty, rather than enjoying a pleasure; and at the end of a quarter of an hour he had killed a goat and two kids. These animals, though wild and agile as chamois, were too much like domestic goats, and Franz could not consider them as game. Moreover, other ideas, much more enthralling, occupied his mind. Since, the evening before, he had really been the hero of one of the tales of the "Thousand and One Nights," and he was irresistibly attracted towards the grotto. Then, in spite of the failure of his first search, he began a second, after having told Gaetano to roast one of the two kids. The second visit was a long one, and when he returned the kid was roasted and the repast ready. Franz was sitting on the spot where he was on the previous evening when his mysterious host had invited him to supper; and he saw the little yacht, now like a sea−gull on the wave, continuing her flight towards Corsica. "Why," he remarked to Gaetano, "you told me that Signor Sinbad was going to Malaga, while it seems he is in the direction of Porto−Vecchio." "Don't you remember," said the patron, "I told you that among the crew there were two Corsican brigands?" "True; and he is going to land them," added Franz. "Precisely so," replied Gaetano. "Ah, he is one who fears neither God nor Satan, they say, and would at any time run fifty leagues out of his course to do a poor devil a service."

"And what cares he for that. which renders it similar to a kind of station between this world and the next −− a sublime spot. as it disappeared in the gulf of Porto−Vecchio. in the first place. but a bird.Chapter 32 386 "But such services as these might involve him with the authorities of the country in which he practices this kind of philanthropy. and then supper. his boat being ready. "or any authorities? He smiles at them. −− the Carnival. and. and if he were to throw himself on the coast. and at each time found it more marvellous . had been retained beforehand. and the Feast of St. Franz's host. between life and death. and on the Saturday evening reached the Eternal City by the mail−coach. had the honor of being on excellent terms with the smugglers and bandits along the whole coast of the Mediterranean. is he not certain of finding friends everywhere?" It was perfectly clear that the Signor Sinbad. and Rome was already a prey to that low and feverish murmur which precedes all great events. while he finished his affairs of pleasure at Florence. and at Rome there are four great events in every year. the events which had just passed. and he would beat any frigate three knots in every nine. and at which Franz had already halted five or six times. he had no longer any inducement to remain at Monte Cristo. He had lost all hope of detecting the secret of the grotto. when the sun rose. An apartment. hashish. He set out. Sinbad. and next morning. As to Franz. and they were soon under way. as we have said. With it was effaced the last trace of the preceding night. and so enjoyed exceptional privileges. who was awaiting him at Rome. Corpus Christi. statues. for the streets were thronged with people. Holy Week. a resting−place full of poetry and character." said Franz. At the moment the boat began her course they lost sight of the yacht. Let them try to pursue him! Why. All the rest of the year the city is in that state of dull apathy. for the moment at least." replied Gaetano with a laugh. The boat sailed on all day and all night. and thus he had but to go to Signor Pastrini's hotel. they had lost sight of Monte Cristo. he forgot. −− all became a dream for Franz. and then thought of nothing but how he should rejoin his companion. When Franz had once again set foot on shore. he hastened on board. Peter. his yacht is not a ship. why. But this was not so easy a matter. he consequently despatched his breakfast.

" answered the inn−keeper. we must have a carriage. and reached the hotel. who was ready to pounce on the traveller and was about to lead him to Albert. that will make forty. scolding the waiters. that there was no room for him at the Hotel de Londres. but the host was unable to decide to which of the two nations the traveller belonged. and a carriage for tomorrow and the following days. "but we must have some supper instantly. On his first inquiry he was told. I see plainly enough. and there's an end of it." replied the host. The two rooms looked onto the street −− a fact which Signor Pastrini commented upon as an inappreciable advantage." said Franz.Chapter 32 387 and striking. the deuce! then we shall pay the more. come. The rest of the floor was hired by a very rich gentleman who was supposed to be a Sicilian or Maltese. signor Pastrini. "Oh." . taking the candlestick from the porter. excusing himself for having made his excellency wait. when Morcerf himself appeared. The apartment consisted of two small rooms and a parlor. "we will do all in our power to procure you one −− this is all I can say. At Drake's or Aaron's one pays twenty−five lire for common days. that's all. At last he made his way through the mob." "And when shall we know?" inquired Franz. which was continually increasing and getting more and more turbulent. "Very good. and Signor Pastrini himself ran to him. This plan succeeded. "Come." "As to supper." replied the landlord." "Sir. add five lire a day more for extras. and thirty or thirty−five lire a day more for Sundays and feast days. "you shall be served immediately. no joking. with the impertinence peculiar to hired hackney−coachmen and inn−keepers with their houses full. and asked for Albert de Morcerf. Signor Pastrini. but as for the carriage" −− "What as to the carriage?" exclaimed Albert. Then he sent his card to Signor Pastrini. "To−morrow morning.

but to pass to another. let us sup. supped. went to bed. my dear Franz −− no horses?" he said. with that delighted philosophy which believes that nothing is impossible to a full purse or well−lined pocketbook.Chapter 32 388 "I am afraid if we offer them double that we shall not procure a carriage. I am accustomed not to dwell on that thing. that when a thing completely surpasses my comprehension. . "but can't we have post−horses?" "They have been all hired this fortnight." "Then they must put horses to mine. slept soundly. Is supper ready." "Well. they will come in due season." Albert looked at Franz like a man who hears a reply he does not understand. and there are none left but those absolutely requisite for posting. your excellency. but that's no matter. "Do you understand that." Morcerf then. then. "Be easy. it is only a question of how much shall be charged for them. my dear boy." "There are no horses. "I say." "But the carriage and horses?" said Franz." "What are we to say to this?" asked Franz. Signor Pastrini?" "Yes. and dreamed he was racing all over Rome at Carnival time in a coach with six horses. It is a little worse for the journey.

" returned Franz.Chapter 33 389 Chapter 33 Roman Bandits. "that there are no carriages to be had from Sunday to Tuesday evening." said the landlord triumphantly. excellency. "no carriage to be had?" "Just so. that you were too late −− there is not a single carriage to be had −− that is. The sound had not yet died away when Signor Pastrini himself entered." said Albert. The next morning Franz woke first. and instantly rang the bell. and without waiting for Franz to question him. "which will make it still more difficult." "Well." said Morcerf. "Well. that is something." "Ah. when I would not promise you anything." "Yes. "to−day is Thursday." "At least we can have a window?" . "let us enjoy the present without gloomy forebodings for the future. who was desirous of keeping up the dignity of the capital of the Christian world in the eyes of his guest." "What is the matter?" said Albert. and who knows what may arrive between this and Sunday?" "Ten or twelve thousand travellers will arrive. your Eternal City is a nice sort of place." returned Franz. "for the very three days it is most needed." replied Franz. "I feared yesterday. "you have guessed it. but from now till Sunday you can have fifty if you please." replied Pastrini. entering. for the last three days of the carnival." "My friend. excellency." "That is to say.

"do you know what is the best thing we can do? It is to pass the Carnival at Venice. I tell you beforehand. We will disguise ourselves as monster pulchinellos or shepherds of the Landes. tomorrow." "Do your excellencies still wish for a carriage from now to Sunday morning?" "Parbleu!" said Albert. there we are sure of obtaining gondolas if we cannot have carriages. and that has been let to a Russian prince for twenty sequins a day. and then you will make a good profit." said Franz.Chapter 33 390 "Where?" "In the Corso. a window!" exclaimed Signor Pastrini. as I am not a millionaire." "Bravo! an excellent idea. though I see it on stilts. "I warn you." "But." "And. −− "utterly impossible. "Well. that as I have been four times before at Rome. only." The two young men looked at each other with an air of stupefaction. "I came to Rome to see the Carnival. and we shall have complete success. still striving to gain his point." said Franz to Albert. the devil." cried Albert. "do you think we are going to run about on foot in the streets of Rome. I know the prices of all the carriages. and the day after. like the gentleman in the next apartments. like lawyer's clerks?" "I hasten to comply with your excellencies' wishes. and I will. excellency" −− said Pastrini. the carriage will cost you six piastres a day." "Ah." "Ah. there was only one left on the fifth floor of the Doria Palace. no. we will give you twelve piastres for to−day. .

and I hope you will be satisfied." "When do you wish the carriage to be here?" "In an hour." returned Franz." An hour after the vehicle was at the door." cried the cicerone." "In an hour it will be at the door. with the smile peculiar to the Italian speculator when he confesses defeat. it was a hack conveyance which was elevated to the rank of a private carriage in honor of the occasion. Franz was the "excellency." the vehicle was the "carriage. Franz and Albert descended. and. "I will do all I can. his first impulse was to look round him. in spite of its humble exterior. "or I shall go myself and bargain with your affettatore. who has plundered me pretty well already. . their excellencies stretched their legs along the seats. who is mine also. excellency. "shall I bring the carriage nearer to the palace?" Accustomed as Franz was to the Italian phraseology. he is an old friend of mine." returned Signor Pastrini. he will take a less price than the one I offer you. you will lose the preference. "Where do your excellencies wish to go?" asked he." and the Hotel de Londres was the "palace. and that will be your fault. "Excellency. seeing Franz approach the window. the carriage approached the palace." "Do not give yourselves the trouble." The genius for laudation characteristic of the race was in that phrase. the cicerone sprang into the seat behind. in the hope of making more out of me. but. the young men would have thought themselves happy to have secured it for the last three days of the Carnival. but these words were addressed to him." "And now we understand each other.Chapter 33 391 "Now go.

somewhat piqued. At the end of the dinner he entered in person." returned Signor Pastrini. and it is done directly. skirt the outer wall. Men in their senses do not quit their hotel in the Rue du Helder. we feel the same pride as when we point out a woman whose lover we have been. and began accordingly. "only madmen." said Pastrini. The day was passed at Saint Peter's alone. lighting his cigar." returned Albert. or blockheads like us. They returned to the hotel. and the Cafe de Paris." "But. the Arch of Septimus Severus." "That is what all the French say. but it was not for that I came. I do not understand why they travel. "for that reason. "No. Suddenly the daylight began to fade away. "Excellency. but at the first words he was interrupted. Franz took out his watch −− it was half−past four." "It is much more convenient at Paris. He wished to show Albert the Colosseum by moonlight. he gave them a tolerable repast. you pay double. at Rome things can or cannot be done.Chapter 33 392 "To Saint Peter's first. and then to the Colosseum. −− when anything cannot be done. their walk on the Boulevard de Gand. and a month to study it. They sat down to dinner. the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina. ever do travel. Signor Pastrini had promised them a banquet. as he had shown him Saint Peter's by daylight. He was to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo. at the door Franz ordered the coachman to be ready at eight." It is of course understood that ." said Albert. Franz thought that he came to hear his dinner praised. When we show a friend a city one has already visited. the Forum. when you are told anything cannot he done." "Did you come to tell us you have procured a carriage?" asked Albert. "I am delighted to have your approbation. and re−enter by the Porta San Giovanni. and the Via Sacra. But Albert did not know that it takes a day to see Saint Peter's. there is an end of it. emitting a volume of smoke and balancing his chair on its hind legs. thus they would behold the Colosseum without finding their impressions dulled by first looking on the Capitol. and your excellencies will do well not to think of that any longer.

" said Franz. yes. You have told your coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo." "You intend visiting Il Colosseo. Signor Pastrini remained silent a short time. "you had some motive for coming here. in his turn interrupting his host's meditations. "But. and re−enter by the Porta San Giovanni?" "These are my words exactly. and dined frequently at the only restaurant where you can really dine." "Impossible!" "Very dangerous. if you are on good terms with its frequenters. which did not seem very clear." "Pray." "You mean the Colosseum?" "It is the same thing. you have ordered your carriage at eight o'clock precisely?" "I have. to say the least." "Well. may I beg to know what it was?" "Ah. it was evident that he was musing over this answer. "he may be very famous at Rome. that is.Chapter 33 393 Albert resided in the aforesaid street. this route is impossible. appeared every day on the fashionable walk. to drive round the walls. who may this famous Luigi Vampa be?" inquired Albert." "Dangerous! −− and why?" "On account of the famous Luigi Vampa. but I can assure you he is quite unknown at Paris." "What! do you not know him?" .

" said Franz. sit down." Signor Pastrini turned toward Franz." "I forewarn you." returned Franz. are sure of the credence of half your audience. "Excellency. who seemed to him the more reasonable of the two." "But if your excellency doubt my veracity" −− "Signor Pastrini. who was a prophetess. Signor Pastrini. at least. but had never been able to comprehend them. "you are more susceptible than Cassandra. it was for your interest I" −− "Albert does not say you are a liar. compared to whom the Decesaris and the Gasparones were mere children." "I had told your excellency he is the most famous bandit we have had since the days of Mastrilla." . and yet no one believed her." "You have never heard his name?" "Never. "if you look upon me as a liar. "but that he will not believe what you are going to tell us. −− but I will believe all you say." "Now then. begin." "Well." said he gravely. it is useless for me to say anything. −− he had had a great many Frenchmen in his house." "Once upon a time" −− "Well. Albert. addressing Franz. Signor Pastrini. that I shall not believe one word of what you are going to tell us. we must do him justice." cried Franz. having told you this. he is a bandit. so proceed. while you. then. Come. and tell us all about this Signor Vampa. go on.Chapter 33 394 "I have not that honor. "here is a bandit for you at last.

what has this bandit to do with the order I have given the coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo. that these things are not to be laughed at. "where are these pistols." returned Signor Pastrini. and knows. who knows Rome. and present him to his holiness the Pope. you are not safe fifty yards from the gates. and other deadly weapons with which you intend filling the carriage?" "Not out of my armory. and double−barrelled guns. and we see the Carnival in the carriage. Signor Pastrini's face assumed an expression impossible to describe. hurt at Albert's repeated doubts of the truth of his assertions.Chapter 33 395 "Well." "On your honor is that true?" cried Albert. Luigi Vampa comes to take us. but I very much doubt your returning by the other. after nightfall. and proclaim us. who asks how he can repay so great a service." replied Signor Pastrini. blunderbusses. too. but to your companion. "And pray. for at Terracina I was plundered even of my hunting−knife. and we take him −− we bring him back to Rome." ." "Why?" asked Franz. "here is an admirable adventure. then we merely ask for a carriage and a pair of horses. "Because. blunderbusses. and doubtless the Roman people will crown us at the Capitol. "I do not say this to you." "I shared the same fate at Aquapendente." "My dear fellow." said Albert. "Count. the preservers of their country. "that you will go out by one. we will fill our carriage with pistols. turning to Franz. and to re−enter by the Porta San Giovanni?" "This." asked Franz." Whilst Albert proposed this scheme. like Curtius and the veiled Horatius.

for I knew him when he was a child." Albert poured himself out a glass of lacryma Christi." "What!" cried Albert. only. going from Ferentino to Alatri. whose courage revolted at the idea of being plundered tamely." "You could not apply to any one better able to inform you on all these points. muttering some unintelligible words." returned Franz. Signor Pastrini. lighting a second cigar at the first. "not make any resistance!" "No. which he sipped at intervals. he. it is only to gratify a whim. "Your friend is decidedly mad. in order that. "your answer is sublime. Is he a shepherd or a nobleman? −− young or old? −− tall or short? Describe him. What could you do against a dozen bandits who spring out of some pit. ruin. for he only answered half the question." Doubtless Signor Pastrini found this pleasantry compromising. and one day that I fell into his hands. "Your excellency knows that it is not customary to defend yourself when attacked by bandits. as for us. Signor Pastrini. "Well. for it would be useless. and you have seen how peaceful my intentions are. and it would be ridiculous to risk our lives for so foolish a motive. or aqueduct." said Albert. "that this practice is very convenient for bandits. recollected . and that it seems to be due to an arrangement of their own. we may recognize him." said Franz. as the only one likely to listen with attention. and then he spoke to Franz. fortunately for me. parbleu! −− they should kill me. but.Chapter 33 396 "Do you know. the safety of Rome was concerned. like Bugaboo John or Lara. when Horace made that answer. "now that my companion is quieted." "My dear Albert. tell me who is this Luigi Vampa. and worthy the `Let him die.' of Corneille." The inn−keeper turned to Franz with an air that seemed to say. if we meet him by chance. and level their pieces at you?" "Eh.

at the moment Signor Pastrini was about to open his mouth." continued Franz." "What do you think of that. not only without ransom. Signor Pastrini drew from his fob a magnificent Breguet." "Let us see the watch. after having made each of them a respectful bow. −− he will gain himself a reputation. motioning Signor Pastrini to seat himself. "You tell me. bearing the name of its maker. but made me a present of a very splendid watch. "I compliment you on it.000 francs. Albert? −− at two and twenty to be thus famous?" "Yes. then?" "A young man? he is only two and twenty. I have its fellow" −− he took his watch from his waistcoat pocket −− "and it cost me 3. "the hero of this history is only two and twenty?" . which meant that he was ready to tell them all they wished to know concerning Luigi Vampa. "that you knew Luigi Vampa when he was a child −− he is still a young man." "So." said he. "Here it is." said Franz. "you are not a preacher." said Franz. and a count's coronet. and related his history to me. Caesar. and Napoleon. of Parisian manufacture. "Pardieu!" cried Albert." "Let us hear the history. "Your excellencies permit it?" asked the host." returned Albert." said Albert. and set me free.Chapter 33 397 me. were quite behind him. Alexander. "Peste. and at his age. to remain standing!" The host sat down. who have all made some noise in the world.

with a bow. heated and sharpened it. Every day Luigi led his flock to graze on the road that leads from Palestrina to Borgo.Chapter 33 398 "Scarcely so much. and that he must profit as much as possible by it. but the good curate went every day to say mass at a little hamlet too poor to pay a priest and which. having no other name. and that then he would give him a lesson. he was born at Pampinara. and thus learn to write. his father was also a shepherd. At the end of three months he had learned to read. The same evening. The child accepted joyfully. Signor Pastrini. and one small." continued Franz. when the flock was safe at the farm. for he could not quit his flock. "Go on. "To what class of society does he belong?" "He was a shepherd−boy attached to the farm of the Count of San−Felice. One day." said Albert. the little Luigi hastened to the smith at Palestrina. situated between Palestrina and the lake of Gabri. he told Luigi that he might meet him on his return. warning him that it would be short. The priest had a writing teacher at Rome make three alphabets −− one large. it was somewhat difficult. at nine o'clock in the morning. and asked to be taught to read. one middling. pointing to Albert. and entered the count's service when he was five years old. and formed a sort of stylus. was called Borgo. who owned a small flock. and pointed out to him that by the help of a sharp instrument he could trace the letters on a slate. When quite a child. At the end of three . "Thanks for the comparison. The next morning he gathered an armful of pieces of slate and began. took a large nail. every day." returned the host. he came to the curate of Palestrina. and lived by the wool and the milk. when he was seven years old. the priest and the boy sat down on a bank by the wayside. and the little shepherd took his lesson out of the priest's breviary." "Is he tall or short?" "Of the middle height −− about the same stature as his excellency. smiling at his friend's susceptibility. This was not enough −− he must now learn to write. which he sold at Rome. the little Vampa displayed a most extraordinary precocity.

and thus they grew up together. he was given to alternating fits of sadness and enthusiasm. And yet their natural disposition revealed itself. He applied his imitative powers to everything. he began to carve all sorts of objects in wood. like Giotto. in the evening they separated the Count of San−Felice's flock from those of Baron Cervetri. Beside his taste for the fine arts. The curate related the incident to the Count of San−Felice. was often angry and capricious. Palestrina. "A girl of six or seven −− that is. So that. Vampa was twelve. who sent for the little shepherd. His disposition (always inclined to exact concessions rather than to make them) kept him aloof from all friendships. he drew on his slate sheep. made him a present of pens. with his knife. With this. when young. let their flocks mingle together. Teresa was lively and gay. born at Valmontone and was named Teresa.Chapter 33 399 months he had learned to write. astonished at his quickness and intelligence. houses. Luigi purchased books and pencils. The curate. The next day they kept their word. a word. this impetuous character. Teresa alone ruled by a look. The two piastres that Luigi received every month from the Count of San−Felice's steward. and Teresa eleven. and which beneath the hand of a man might have broken. and always sarcastic. the famous sculptor. and a penknife. This demanded new effort. or Valmontone had been able to gain any influence over him or even to become his companion. necklaces. which Luigi had carried as far as he could in his solitude. but nothing compared to the first. but could never have been bended. it was thus that Pinelli. None of the lads of Pampinara. and to give him two piastres a month. promising to meet the next morning. thanks to her friend's generosity. played. and. laughed. made him read and write before him. were expended in ear−rings. and conversed together. a gesture. paper. ordered his attendant to let him eat with the domestics. which yielded beneath the hand of a woman. she was an orphan. and gold hairpins. sat down near each other. at the end of a week he wrote as well with this pen as with the stylus. Then. and trees. and the price of all the little carvings in wood he sold at Rome. Teresa was the most beautiful and the best−attired peasant near . and the children returned to their respective farms. but coquettish to excess. had commenced. The two children met. a little younger than Vampa −− tended sheep on a farm near Palestrina.

as he quitted his earth on some marauding excursion. and prowl around his flock. Then. with as much accuracy as if he placed it by hand. by rendering its owner terrible. Vampa saw himself the captain of a vessel. and carried him to the farm. but the wolf had scarcely advanced ten yards ere he was dead. For a long time a gun had been the young man's greatest ambition. the eagle that soared above their heads: and thus he soon became so expert. they separated their flocks. which at once renders him capable of defence or attack. and carrying a ball with the precision of an English rifle. These exploits had gained Luigi considerable . the fox. Thus. Teresa saw herself rich. however. often makes him feared. in all their dreams. "One day the young shepherd told the count's steward that he had seen a wolf come out of the Sabine mountains. and everything served him for a mark −− the trunk of some old and moss−grown olive−tree. their wishes. this was what Vampa longed for. and. and giving themselves up to the wild ideas of their different characters. In every country where independence has taken the place of liberty.Chapter 33 400 Rome. calculated what change it would require to adapt the gun to his shoulder. and their conversations. was nothing to a sculptor like Vampa. he examined the broken stock. Proud of this exploit. that grew on the Sabine mountains. the first desire of a manly heart is to possess a weapon. or governor of a province. and had then cast the gun aside. and amused herself by watching him direct the ball wherever he pleased. made at Breschia. and made a fresh stock. "One evening a wolf emerged from a pine−wood hear which they were usually stationed. Vampa took the dead animal on his shoulders. passing all their time with each other. that Teresa overcame the terror she at first felt at the report. and attended by a train of liveried domestics. when they had thus passed the day in building castles in the air. so beautifully carved that it would have fetched fifteen or twenty piastres. The steward gave him a gun. But nothing could be farther from his thoughts. This gun had an excellent barrel. This. had he chosen to sell it. general of an army. and descended from the elevation of their dreams to the reality of their humble position. superbly attired. but one day the count broke the stock. The two children grew up together. he purchased powder and ball. From this moment Vampa devoted all his leisure time to perfecting himself in the use of his precious weapon.

the most extraordinary traits of ferocious daring and brutality were related of him.Chapter 33 401 reputation. . pursued in the Abruzzo. had crossed the Garigliano. like Manfred. 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. The bandit's laws are positive. where he had carried on a regular war. When she recognized her lover. and Pampinara had disappeared. but when a chief presents himself he rarely has to wait long for a band of followers. Many young men of Palestrina. but it was soon known that they had joined Cucumetto. After some time Cucumetto became the object of universal attention. Teresa was sixteen. whose branches intertwined. Sometimes a chief is wanted. and whose intermingled perfume rises to the heavens. and the most courageous contadino for ten leagues around. a messenger is sent to negotiate. and Vampa seventeen. and followed the footsteps of Decesaris and Gasperone. whom he hoped to surpass. and they would have preferred death to a day's separation. go where he will. and believed herself safe. and she is abandoned to their brutality until death relieves her sufferings. driven out of the kingdom of Naples. The man of superior abilities always finds admirers. He strove to collect a band of followers. the daughter of a surveyor of Frosinone. and had taken refuge on the banks of the Amasine between Sonnino and Juperno. "The celebrated Cucumetto. they had grown together like two trees whose roots are mingled. the strongest. a young girl belongs first to him who carries her off. the prisoner is irrevocably lost. his name was Carlini. Their disappearance at first caused much disquietude. then the rest draw lots for her. the prisoner is hostage for the security of the messenger. should the ransom be refused. the poor girl extended her arms to him. for he but too well knew the fate that awaited her. a band of brigands that had established itself in the Lepini mountains began to be much spoken of. About this time. Frascati. no one had ever spoken to her of love. because it was known that she was beloved by Vampa. One day he carried off a young girl. He was spoken of as the most adroit. but Carlini felt his heart sink. The young girl's lover was in Cucumetto's troop. The brigands have never been really extirpated from the neighborhood of Rome. And yet the two young people had never declared their affection. When their parents are sufficiently rich to pay a ransom.

and bidding her write to her father. and that her ransom was fixed at three hundred piastres. while the young girl.Chapter 33 402 However. supping off the provisions exacted as contributions from the peasants. they had met in some neighboring ruins. and how every night. saying. so that he had been unable to go to the place of meeting. `To the health of the brave Cucumetto and the fair Rita. anxious to see his mistress. A cold perspiration burst from every pore. Twelve hours' delay was all that was granted −− that is. He inquired where they were. seated at the foot of a huge pine that stood in the centre of the forest. and announce the joyful intelligence. he divined the truth. telling her she was saved. "It so happened that night that Cucumetto had sent Carlini to a village. as he had for three years faithfully served him. Cucumetto seemed to yield to his friend's entreaties. and his hair stood on end. Carlini seized it. by accident. he found Rita senseless in .' At this moment Carlini heard a woman's cry. Carlini besought his chief to make an exception in Rita's favor. since he had been near. promising to be in Frosinone in less than an hour. to inform him what had occurred. One of the bandits rose. Carlini flew joyfully to Rita. seized the glass. and bade him find a shepherd to send to Rita's father at Frosinone. The natural messengers of the bandits are the shepherds who live between the city and the mountains. Cucumetto had been there. The boy undertook the commission. and as he had saved his life by shooting a dragoon who was about to cut him down. and had carried the maiden off. Carlini returned. After a hundred yards he turned the corner of the thicket. The instant the letter was written. He repeated his question. broke it across the face of him who presented it. and hastened to the plain to find a messenger. He found the troop in the glade. and rushed towards the spot whence the cry came. and could pay a large ransom. until nine the next morning. He took Cucumetto one side. between civilized and savage life. but his eye vainly sought Rita and Cucumetto among them. There he told the chief all −− his affection for the prisoner. as he was a favorite with Cucumetto. their promises of mutual fidelity. as her father was rich. and was answered by a burst of laughter. made a veil of her picturesque head−dress to hide her face from the lascivious gaze of the bandits. as he said. and offered him a glass filled with Orvietto. he hoped the chief would have pity on him. however. He found a young shepherd watching his flock.

to his great surprise. without losing sight of Carlini. The moon lighted the group. "`Well. near Rita. who was still insensible. Cucumetto rose. `At nine o'clock to−morrow Rita's father will be here with the money. the other with the pallor of death on his brow. `are you coming?' −− `I follow you. he feared lest he should strike him unawares. a pistol in each hand. but nothing betrayed a hostile design on Carlini's part.' said Cucumetto.' returned Carlini.' −− `It is well. At the sight of Carlini. advancing towards the other bandits. but by degrees Carlini's features relaxed. doubtless. "`Why should an exception be made in her favor?' "`I thought that my entreaties' −− "`What right have you.' −− `But never mind. but this mattered little to him now Rita had been his. The two brigands looked at each other for a moment −− the one with a smile of lasciviousness on his lips. this young girl is charming. Rita lay between them.' continued Cucumetto. Carlini .' Carlini's teeth clinched convulsively. and as for the money. and does credit to your taste. `have you executed your commission?' "`Yes. laughing. his hand. but. any more than the rest. captain. to ask for an exception?' −− `It is true. Now. A terrible battle between the two men seemed imminent. as I am not egotistical. his arms folded. then.' said Cucumetto. fell to his side. Cucumetto fancied for a moment the young man was about to take her in his arms and fly. which had grasped one of the pistols in his belt. three hundred piastres distributed among the band was so small a sum that he cared little about it. to abandon her to the common law?" said Carlini.' −− `You have determined. He continued to follow the path to the glade. then.Chapter 33 403 the arms of Cucumetto. `sooner or later your turn will come. in the meantime.' "Cucumetto departed. for. we will have a merry night. He was standing. we will return to our comrades and draw lots for her. "`Now.

and the red light of the fire made them look like demons. `Now. He was the man who had proposed to Carlini the health of their chief. extending from the temple to the mouth. `I now understand why Carlini stayed behind.' said he. As they entered the circle. "Their demand was fair. the sheath at his belt was empty. who remained seated. seeing himself thus favored by fortune. and he drank it off.' and they all formed a circle round the fire. `that is acting like a good fellow. and saw Diavolaccio bearing the young girl in his arms.' Every one expected an explosion on Carlini's part. then. that every one rose. and filling it. and let us see if he will be more condescending to you than to me. Then every one could understand the cause of the unearthly pallor in the young girl and the bandit. and laid Rita at the captain's feet. burst into a loud laugh. Every one looked at Carlini.' said he.' −− `Well done. Her head hung back. They turned round.' . with the exception of Carlini. The eyes of all shone fiercely as they made their demand. but they all understood what Carlini had done. Diavolaccio advanced amidst the most profound silence. when they saw the chief. by the firelight. and her long hair swept the ground.' All savage natures appreciate a desperate deed. the unearthly pallor of the young girl and of Diavolaccio. perhaps. `Ah. A knife was plunged up to the hilt in Rita's left breast.' said he calmly. have done the same. and ate and drank calmly. and to whom Carlini replied by breaking the glass across his face. A large wound. propose mine to him. `my expedition has given me an appetite. Diavolaccio. and the chief inclined his head in sign of acquiescence. The names of all. were placed in a hat. was bleeding profusely. `Captain. `My supper. The bandits looked on with astonishment at this singular conduct until they heard footsteps. the ticket bore the name of Diovolaccio. ah.' said the chief. This apparition was so strange and so solemn. the bandits could perceive. and the youngest of the band drew forth a ticket. `just now Carlini would not drink your health when I proposed it to him. without his hand trembling in the least. No other of the bandits would. Then sitting down by the fire. −− `Your health.Chapter 33 404 arrived almost as soon as himself. Carlini!' cried the brigands. Diovalaccio. while Diavolaccio disappeared. `Let us draw lots! let us draw lots!' cried all the brigands. but to their great surprise. he took a glass in one hand and a flask in the other. including Carlini. Carlini ate and drank as if nothing had happened.

`here are three hundred piastres. her head resting on the knees of a man. A woman lay on the ground. and carried her out of the circle of firelight. `Now. he will tell thee what has become of her. As he approached. and grew pale as death.' Carlini fetched . the meaning of which he could not comprehend. These were the first tears the man of blood had ever wept.' Carlini raised her in his arms. and in an instant all were on the alert. They both advanced beneath the trees. The old man recognized his child. my son. `I expected thee. through whose branches streamed the moonlight. A ray of moonlight poured through the trees. `does any one dispute the possession of this woman with me?' −− `No. At length he advanced toward the group. Cucumetto placed his sentinels for the night. The old man remained motionless. who was seated by her. rising in his turn. and lay down before the fire. Carlini raised his head. `Here. It was Rita's father. −− `Thou hast done well!' returned the old man in a hoarse voice.' said the bandit to Rita's father. as he raised his head. But the chief.' said he. avenge her. −− `Cucumetto had violated thy daughter. `I loved her. and Carlini recognized the old man.' said he. to Cucumetto.Chapter 33 405 cried Carlini. −− `Wretch!' returned the old man. pale and bloody.' The old man spoke not. `if I have done wrongly.' continued Carlini.' said the old man. a knife buried in her bosom. and approaching the corpse. `Now. `aid me to bury my child. made a sign to him to follow. At midnight the sentinel gave the alarm.' and he returned to his companions. and the bandits wrapped themselves in their cloaks. `embrace me. into the arms of his mistress's father. for she would have served as the sport of the whole band. while with the other he tore open his vest. therefore I slew her. `she is thine. who brought his daughter's ransom in person. `what hast thou done?' and he gazed with terror on Rita. Cucumetto stopped at last. he held it out to the old man with one hand. sobbing like a child. without taking the money. his hand on the butt of one of his pistols.' said the bandit.' Carlini threw himself.' and withdrawing the knife from the wound in Rita's bosom. he felt that some great and unforeseen misfortune hung over his head. "`There. and pointed to two persons grouped at the foot of a tree. `demand thy child of Carlini. The old man obeyed. the woman's face became visible. and lighted up the face of the dead. give me back my child. and the forms of two persons became visible to the old man's eyes.' returned the chief.

and heard this oath of vengeance. Cucumetto aroused his men. that. folded himself in his cloak. each more singular than the other. the father kissed her first. and if that did not restore her courage. the old man said. I command you. `I thank you. perched on some dead branch. which threw its ball so well.' Carlini obeyed. and the bird fell dead at the foot of the tree. He then took an oath of bitter vengeance over the dead body of the one and the tomb of the other. and soon appeared to sleep as soundly as the rest. beneath which the young girl was to repose. as he was with his face to the enemy.' −− `Yet' −− replied Carlini. When the grave was formed. But Carlini would not quit the forest. Time passed on. and now leave me alone. tapping the butt of his good fowling−piece.Chapter 33 406 two pickaxes. when they had finished. the other the feet. Then. It had been resolved the night before to change their encampment. extending his hand. they cast the earth over the corpse. and then the lover. but Vampa reassured her with a smile. and the father and the lover began to dig at the foot of a huge oak. 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. Thus. one taking the head. Then. and the two young people had agreed to be married when Vampa should be twenty and Teresa nineteen years of age. Carlini was killed. "These narratives were frequently the theme of conversation between Luigi and Teresa. He went toward the place where he had left him. my son. They were both . he should have received a ball between his shoulders. afterwards. like a wise man. rejoined his comrades. He found the old man suspended from one of the branches of the oak which shaded his daughter's grave. touched the trigger. he pointed to a crow. without knowing what had become of Rita's father. took aim. There was some surprise. anticipated it. in an encounter with the Roman carbineers. −− `Leave me. An hour before daybreak. for two days afterwards. and. they placed her in the grave. and said the prayers of the dead. however. They told ten other stories of this bandit chief. until the grave was filled. But he was unable to complete this oath. and gave the word to march. every one trembles at the name of Cucumetto. The young girl trembled very much at hearing the stories. On the morning of the departure from the forest of Frosinone he had followed Carlini in the darkness. from Fondi to Perusia. Then they knelt on each side of the grave.

began to question them. drew it away. three of them appeared to be looking for the fugitive. Vampa. for the man we are looking for is the chief. it is very annoying. They had seen no one. after a time. "`Yes. Vampa then removed the stone. they heard two or three reports of firearms. while the fourth dragged a brigand prisoner by the neck. When he came within hearing. closed the stone upon him. and then went and resumed his seat by Teresa. and Cucumetto came out.' said Vampa. without saying a word. and then suddenly a man came out of the wood.' replied the brigadier. which had been already sought and obtained. `but we have not seen him. `That is very annoying. they disappeared. which he offered to them. and had only their employers' leave to ask.Chapter 33 407 orphans. saw the young peasants. in a retreat unknown to every one. Five hundred Roman crowns are three thousand lire.' −− `Cucumetto?' cried Luigi and Teresa at the same moment. `I am pursued. but there is an innate sympathy between the Roman brigand and the Roman peasant and the latter is always ready to aid the former.' The two young persons exchanged looks. hastened to the stone that closed up the entrance to their grotto. He had read in the countenances of Luigi and Teresa their steadfast resolution not to surrender him. if you had helped us to catch him. and he drew from his pocket a purse full of gold. made a sign to the fugitive to take refuge there. Instantly afterwards four carbineers. The three carbineers looked about carefully on every side. One day when they were talking over their plans for the future. and guessed the subject of their parley. The brigadier had a moment's hope.' said the brigadier. and hurried towards them. and galloping up. can you conceal me?' They knew full well that this fugitive must be a bandit. then. he exclaimed. on horseback. near which the two young persons used to graze their flocks. and three thousand lire are a fortune for two poor orphans who are going to be married. appeared on the edge of the wood. there would have been five hundred for you. but in vain.' "Then the carbineers scoured the country in different directions. Through the crevices in the granite he had seen the two young peasants talking with the carbineers. But Vampa raised his head . "`Yes. `and as his head is valued at a thousand Roman crowns.

At each cross−path was an orchestra. Luigi asked permission of his protector. but thousands of colored lanterns were suspended from the trees in the garden. her bodice and skirt were of cashmere. and the buttons of her corset were of jewels. and had assumed the form of a brigand instead of a serpent. and Teresa was as handsome as Carmela. and very soon the palace overflowed to the terraces. with the servants and peasants. as to Teresa. her most brilliant ornaments in her hair. Carmela was precisely the age and figure of Teresa. "Cucumetto was a cunning fiend. This was granted. On the evening of the ball Teresa was attired in her best. with large embroidered flowers. 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. whom he adored. and Sora. as they had leave to do. Teresa had a great desire to see this ball. and tables spread with refreshments. the steward. under the pretext of saluting his protectors. pausing several times on his way. and this look from Teresa showed to him that she was a worthy daughter of Eve. and danced in any part of the grounds they pleased. not only was the villa brilliantly illuminated. They both mingled. the pins in her hair were of gold and diamonds. the one as a woman of Nettuno. Several days elapsed. Two of her companions were dressed. The Count of San−Felice announced a grand masked ball. her eyes sparkled when she thought of all the fine gowns and gay jewellery she could buy with this purse of gold. and gayest glass beads. and he returned to the forest. the guests stopped. Her cap was embroidered with pearls. We need hardly add that . her girdle was of Turkey silk. Carmela was attired like a woman of Sonnino. Velletri. that she and he might be present amongst the servants of the house. The time of the Carnival was at hand. Luigi wore the very picturesque garb of the Roman peasant at holiday time.Chapter 33 408 proudly. formed quadrilles. and the other as a woman of La Riccia. Civita−Castellana. and they neither saw nor heard of Cucumetto. to which all that were distinguished in Rome were invited. and the terraces to the garden−walks. "The festa was magnificent. −− she was in the costume of the women of Frascati. The ball was given by the Count for the particular pleasure of his daughter Carmela. They were attired as peasants of Albano. her apron of Indian muslin.

and all the voices of hell were whispering in his ears ideas of murder and assassination. and with the other convulsively grasped the dagger with a carved handle which was in his belt. but not one of the guests had a costume similar to her own. and Teresa was frivolous and coquettish. every pulse beat with violence. all dazzled her. were brilliant with gold and jewels. Certainly. and the reflection of sapphires and diamonds almost turned her giddy brain. who was hanging on Luigi's arm in a group of peasants. and then thrilled through his whole body. `Will you allow me. accompanied by her elegant cavalier. she looked at Luigi. Luigi slowly relinquished Teresa's arm. which he had held beneath his own. and it seemed as though a bell were ringing in his ears. he felt as though he should swoon. It was like an acute pain which gnawed at his heart. the exact and strict costume of Teresa had a very different character from that of Carmela and her companions. and thus the embroidery and muslins. and saying a few words to him.Chapter 33 409 these peasant costumes. "Carmela wished to form a quadrille. Then fearing that his paroxysm might get the better of him. The Count of San−Felice pointed out Teresa. took her appointed place with much agitation in the aristocratic quadrille. The young man looked. unwittingly. as Luigi could read in the ardent looks of the good−looking young man that his language was that of praise.' replied the count. Carmela looked all around her. and invited her to dance in a quadrille directed by the count's daughter. and then went to Teresa. and Teresa. "Luigi felt a sensation hitherto unknown arising in his mind. the cashmere waist−girdles. he drew from the . or those of her companions. like those of the young women. in the eyes of an artist. bowed in obedience. it seemed as if the whole world was turning round with him. and which. Teresa felt a flush pass over her face. pointed with her finger to Teresa. `are we not in Carnival time?' −− Carmela turned towards the young man who was talking with her. −− `Certainly. although Teresa listened timidly and with downcast eyes to the conversation of her cavalier. He followed with his eye each movement of Teresa and her cavalier. when their hands touched. When they spoke. he clutched with one hand the branch of a tree against which he was leaning. who could not refuse his assent. but there was one lady wanting. father?' said Carmela.

−− . but yet she did not the less feel that these reproaches were merited. at first timid and scared. that she acceded. to Teresa's great astonishment. Teresa was endowed with all those wild graces which are so much more potent than our affected and studied elegancies.Chapter 33 410 scabbard from time to time. and where Luigi awaited her. Twice or thrice during the dance the young girl had glanced at Luigi. Luigi remained mute. yet fully comprehended that Luigi was right in reproaching her. Why. but the Count of San−Felice besought his daughter so earnestly. but this is not all. and. had dazzled her eyes with its sinister glare. and each time she saw that he was pale and that his features were agitated. but when she looked at the agitated countenance of the young man. we will not undertake to say that Carmela was not jealous of her. he took Teresa quite away. Luigi was jealous! He felt that. half drawn from its sheath. Thus. Carmela alone objecting to it. Teresa might escape him. and if she were envious of the Count of San−Felice's daughter. The quadrille had been most perfect. half by persuasion and half by force. without whom it was impossible for the quadrille to be formed. She had almost all the honors of the quadrille. and it was evident there was a great demand for a repetition. One of the cavaliers then hastened to invite Teresa. And with overpowering compliments her handsome cavalier led her back to the place whence he had taken her. but the young girl had disappeared. soon recovered herself. once even the blade of his knife. she understood by his silence and trembling voice that something strange was passing within him. that Luigi had not felt the strength to support another such trial. Teresa had yielded in spite of herself. "The young peasant girl. it was almost tremblingly that she resumed her lover's arm. However. and as he left her at her home. he said. We have said that Teresa was handsome. and without having done anything wrong. and the gates of the villa were closed on them for the festa in−doors. The truth was. and not a word escaped his lips the rest of the evening. he had removed Teresa toward another part of the garden. She herself was not exempt from internal emotion. she did not know. influenced by her ambitions and coquettish disposition. When the chill of the night had driven away the guests from the gardens.

All the servants surrounded her. Awakened in the night by the light of the flames. her father was by her side. "That night a memorable event occurred. then. as long as Carmela was safe and uninjured? Her preserver was everywhere sought for. calling for help as loudly as she could.' said Luigi. but no one had seen him. and when he had quite disappeared. which was twenty feet from the ground. she went into the house with a sigh. when suddenly her window.' replied the young girl. a young peasant jumped into the chamber. what were you thinking of as you danced opposite the young Countess of San−Felice?' −− `I thought. The Villa of San−Felice took fire in the rooms adjoining the very apartment of the lovely Carmela. he left her. `that I would give half my life for a costume such as she wore. where she fainted. wrapped herself in a dressing−gown. was opened.Chapter 33 411 "`Teresa. you shall have it!' "The young girl. Carmela was greatly troubled that she had not recognized him.' "`He was right. but what of that. but he did not appear. An entire wing of the villa was burnt down. and with superhuman skill and strength conveyed her to the turf of the grass−plot. She then returned to her room. much astonished.' −− `Well. `Do you desire it as ardently as you say?' −− `Yes. seized her in his arms. no doubt. with all the frankness of her nature. made that appear to him rather a favor of providence than a real misfortune. to the imprudence of some servant who had neglected to extinguish the lights. but the corridor by which she hoped to fly was already a prey to the flames. Teresa followed him with her eyes into the darkness as long as she could. raised her head to look at him. When she recovered. and I had only one word to say. due. but his face was so gloomy and terrible that her words froze to her lips. she sprang out of bed. As the count was immensely rich. −− the loss occasioned . excepting the danger Carmela had run. he was inquired after.' "`And what said your cavalier to you?' −− `He said it only depended on myself to have it. As Luigi spoke thus. and attempted to escape by the door. offering her assistance. −− and the marvellous manner in which she had escaped.

The traveller."' −− `Yes. for on the crest of a small adjacent hill which cut off the view toward Palestrina. and seemed to have completely forgotten the events of the previous evening. and thus presenting against the blue sky that perfect outline which is peculiar to distant objects in southern climes. `Go into the grotto and dress yourself. `but of course your reply was only to please me. and on reaching these the traveller might again stray from his route. The young girl. lighted up by two wax lights. he saw a traveller on horseback. "Teresa uttered a cry of joy.Chapter 33 412 by the conflagration was to him but a trifle. Luigi pushed the stone behind her. he put his horse into a gallop and advanced toward him. Then he paused. transformed into a dressing−room.' At these words he drew away the stone. `Teresa.' −− `Yes. Luigi threw his cloak . but as at a distance of a quarter of a mile the road again divided into three ways. and on a chair at the side was laid the rest of the costume. "The next day. "Very well. at the usual hour.' said Luigi. Luigi arrived first.' "`I have promised no more than I have given you. on a rustic table. you shall have it. she on her part assumed a smiling air. he begged Luigi to be his guide.' replied the young girl. or even thanking Luigi.' said Luigi proudly. which was natural to her when she was not excited or in a passion. `yesterday evening you told me you would give all the world to have a costume similar to that of the count's daughter. When he saw Luigi. which burnt on each side of a splendid mirror. as if uncertain of his road. perceiving that there was something extraordinary. and led her to the door of the grotto. stopping a moment. without inquiring whence this attire came. The young girl was very pensive. had mistaken his way. who was going from Palestrina to Tivoli.' −− `And I replied. the two young peasants were on the borders of the forest. but seeing Luigi so cheerful. Luigi was not mistaken. made by Luigi. looked at him steadfastly. were spread out the pearl necklace and the diamond pins. Teresa. darted into the grotto. whose astonishment increased at every word uttered by Luigi. and. the young man directed him. He came toward Teresa in high spirits.' replied Teresa with astonishment. and showed Teresa the grotto. Luigi took her arm beneath his own. `but I was mad to utter such a wish.

yes. that is another thing.' said the traveller. excellency.' replied the traveller.' −− `For a dealer perhaps. "Sinbad the Sailor.' "`I accept it.' −− `And here is your recompense. offering the young herdsman some small pieces of money. he stretched his hand towards that one of the roads which the traveller was to follow. for this poniard is worth more than two sequins. who engraved it myself. `am called Sinbad the Sailor.' −− `Well. −− `Luigi Vampa.' said the traveller. preceded the traveller with the rapid step of a mountaineer. who seemed used to this difference between the servility of a man of the cities and the pride of the mountaineer. and the adventures of the gentleman of that name .' replied the shepherd." replied the narrator. `I render a service. to make herself a pair of earrings." he said. you will. it is hardly worth a piastre. and now you cannot again mistake. −− "That is your road. "Yes. and freed from his heavy covering. King of Macedon. −− `And yours?' −− `I.' said Luigi. and what may you have to say against this name?" inquired Albert. placed his carbine on his shoulder. but for me.' −− `Then. `if you refuse wages. `you will not find one better carved between Albano and Civita−Castellana. "it is a very pretty name. "that was the name which the traveller gave to Vampa as his own.'" Franz d'Epinay started with surprise. `but then the obligation will be on my side." "Well. with the same air as he would have replied. `take these two Venetian sequins and give them to your bride.' "`What is your name?' inquired the traveller.' said the young herdsman.' answered the traveller. Alexander. In ten minutes Luigi and the traveller reached the cross−roads. perhaps. On arriving there. I do not sell it. with an air as majestic as that of an emperor. "`Thank you.' said the traveller. which a horse can scarcely keep up with. accept a gift.' −− `Ah.Chapter 33 413 on the ground.' "`And then do you take this poniard. drawing back his hand.

followed him for a second in his track. He bounded like a chamois. so that the young man feared that the ball that had brought down his enemy. cocking his carbine as he went. awakened in him a world of recollections. This man. When Luigi had assured himself that she was safe and unharmed. He cast his eyes around him and saw a man carrying off Teresa. The cry proceeded from the grotto. she was unscathed. took aim at the ravisher. The young girl rose instantly. and recognized Cucumetto. The name of Sinbad the Sailor. From the day on which the bandit had been saved by the two young peasants. The young shepherd stopped. He listened to know whence this sound could proceed. and she had dropped on her knees. Vampa then rushed towards Teresa. and his hair on end in the sweat of death. he turned towards the wounded man. Fortunately. Three cries for help came more distinctly to his ear. had also wounded his betrothed. As he came within two or three hundred paces of the grotto. as if his feet had been rooted to the ground. A moment afterwards he thought he heard his own name pronounced distinctly. and then fired. his mouth in a spasm of agony. who was hastening towards the wood. His eyes remained open and menacing. "Vampa put the two sequins haughtily into his pocket. and in a moment reached the summit of a hill opposite to that on which he had perceived the traveller. The ravisher stopped suddenly. as may well be supposed. and there was not a chance of overtaking him." −− Franz said no more. He had just expired. was already three−quarters of the way on the road from the grotto to the forest. Vampa approached the corpse. and he fell with Teresa in his arms. carried Dejanira. From that . and it was fright alone that had overcome Teresa. "Proceed!" said he to the host. his knees bent under him. Vampa measured the distance. with clinched hands. as Nessus. and slowly returned by the way he had gone. the centaur. I must confess. he had been enamoured of Teresa. for at ten paces from the dying man her legs had failed her. as had the name of the Count of Monte Cristo on the previous evening. and had sworn she should be his. the man was at least two hundred paces in advance of him. he thought he heard a cry. then he put the butt of his carbine to his shoulder. but the man lay on the earth struggling in the agonies of death.Chapter 33 414 amused me very much in my youth.

Vampa took Cucumetto's body in his arms and conveyed it to the grotto. −− `Now. shuddering in every limb. worked with a thousand arabesques. a cartridge−box worked with gold. emeralds. yes!' exclaimed the young girl enthusiastically. no doubt.' −− `Then take my arm. At the end of a quarter of an hour Vampa quitted the grotto. it is now my turn to dress myself.' said he −− `good. a silk waistcoat covered with embroidery. two watches hung from his girdle. −− `And follow me wherever I go?' −− `To the world's end. he would have seen a strange thing. had carried her off. The young man saw the effect produced on his betrothed. a Roman scarf tied round his neck. and believed he at length had her in his power. and a hat whereon hung ribbons of all colors. fastened above the knee with diamond buckles. for he appeared to her at this moment as handsome. and a smile of pride passed over his lips. when the ball. diamond pins. and rubies. He wore a vest of garnet−colored velvet. and red and green silk. clad in a cashmere grown. proud. dared not approach the slain ruffian but by degrees. with buttons of cut gold.' he said to Teresa. whatever it may be?' −− `Oh.' −− The young girl did so without questioning her lover as to where he was conducting her. They went . and let us on. Suddenly Vampa turned toward his mistress: −− `Ah. Teresa. while in her turn Teresa remained outside. Teresa uttered a cry of admiration. we have no time to lose. while. had pierced his heart. sky−blue velvet breeches. good! You are dressed. or Schnetz.' "Teresa was clothed from head to foot in the garb of the Count of San−Felice's daughter. and threw a hesitating glance at the dead body over the shoulder of her lover. He had assumed the entire costume of Cucumetto. with ear−rings and necklace of pearls. his costume was no less elegant than that of Teresa. and a splendid poniard was in his belt. −− a shepherdess watching her flock. on reaching Paris. garters of deerskin. that he had met an Alpine shepherdess seated at the foot of the Sabine Hill. If a second traveller had passed. and would have declared. have believed that he had returned to the times of Florian. on the contrary. and profiting by the moment when her lover had left her alone. Vampa in this attire resembled a painting by Leopold Robert.Chapter 33 415 time he had watched them. directed by the unerring skill of the young herdsman. `are you ready to share my fortune. He would. and buttons of sapphires. Vampa gazed on him for a moment without betraying the slightest emotion. and powerful as a god.

`do wolves rend each other?' −− `Who are you?' inquired the sentinel. and soon entered it. as they went on Teresa clung tremblingly to her lover at the sight of weapons and the glistening of carbines through the trees. 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. although there was no beaten track.' said Vampa. `Here is a young man who seeks and wishes to speak to you. no longer able to restrain her alarm.' −− `What do you want?' −− `I would speak with your companions who are in the glade at Rocca Bianca. The retreat of Rocca Bianca was at the top of a small mountain. `or you are a dead man. `you may now go on. but for the difficulties of its descent.' −− Luigi and Teresa again set forward. and all at once found themselves in the presence of twenty bandits. which. clung closely to him. −− `What has he to say?' inquired the young man who was in command in the chief's absence. The two young persons obeyed.' he said. she endeavored to repress her emotion. led into a deep gorge. but he knew his path by looking at the trees and bushes. −− `Not another step. At the end of this time they had reached the thickest of the forest. −− `Good!' said the sentry. while Teresa. and shadowed by the tufted umbrage of the pines. whose bed was dry. shepherd of the San−Felice farm. −− `I am Luigi Vampa.Chapter 33 416 towards the forest. he therefore went forward without a moment's hesitation.' −− `Follow me. Teresa had become alarmed at the wild and deserted look of the plain around her. went before Teresa.' −− `What. not uttering a syllable. then. We need scarcely say that all the paths of the mountain were known to Vampa. and pressed closely against her guide. but as she saw him advance with even step and composed countenance.' −− Vampa smiled disdainfully at this precaution on the part of the bandit. a man advanced from behind a tree and aimed at Vampa. Then the bandit thrice imitated the cry of a crow. and thus they kept on advancing for nearly an hour and a half. about ten paces from them. go first. A torrent. that path to Avernus of which Virgil speaks. Suddenly. as you know your way.' said the sentinel. seemed. a croak answered this signal. Vampa took this wild road. −− `I wish to say that I am tired of a . raising his hand with a gesture of disdain.' said the sentinel. then. and continued to advance with the same firm and easy step as before. At the end of ten minutes the bandit made them a sign to stop. enclosed between two ridges. `or. Teresa and Luigi reached the summit.

and Anagni.Chapter 33 417 shepherd's life. −− `I come to ask to be your captain. the fishermen of the Tiber. Guanouti. vice Cucumetto deceased. my dear Albert. `And what have you done to aspire to this honor?' demanded the lieutenant. and the smugglers of the coast.' An hour afterwards Luigi Vampa was chosen captain.' −− `And what may that be?' inquired the bandits with astonishment. and when they hunt for him there. but I came to ask something more than to be your companion.' was Vampa's reply. then they pursue him. my dear landlord. They seek for him in the mountains." said Franz. turning towards his friend. and he is on the open sea." replied Albert. at Giglio. whose dress I now wear. Tivoli." "Then the police have vainly tried to lay hands on him?" "Why. Cucumetto. −− `Yes. Pampinara. −− `Ah.' said the lieutenant. who had recognized Luigi Vampa. "The explanation would be too long." "Well." "And what may a myth be?" inquired Pastrini. The bandits shouted with laughter. or La Riccia. and he is on the waters. and he has suddenly taken refuge in the islands. I understand." . "and never had an existence. you see. "And you say that Signor Vampa exercises his profession at this moment in the environs of Rome?" "And with a boldness of which no bandit before him ever gave an example." replied Franz. he reappears suddenly at Albano. and I set fire to the villa San−Felice to procure a wedding−dress for my betrothed.' said the young man. they follow him on the waters. or Monte Cristo. "what think you of citizen Luigi Vampa?" "I say he is a myth. `and you seek admittance into our ranks?' −− `Welcome!' cried several bandits from Ferrusino. he has a good understanding with the shepherds in the plains. −− `I have killed your chief.

morbleu." said he. and lighting his third cigar. and when that time has elapsed he allows another hour's grace. I thought you had more courage. "let us to the Colosseum. Franz had so managed his route." said Albert. so that no preliminary impression interfered to mitigate the colossal proportions of the gigantic building they came to admire. or plants his dagger in his heart." "Well.Chapter 34 418 "And how does he behave towards travellers?" "Alas! his plan is very simple. and a coachman appeared. "really. rising. that during the ride to the Colosseum they passed not a single ancient ruin. the two young men went down the staircase. and that settles the account. "the coach is ready. . and got into the carriage. "Ah." "Well. or a day wherein to pay their ransom. The road selected was a continuation of the Via Sistina. Chapter 34 The Colosseum." The clock struck nine as the door opened." So saying. whether he gives eight hours. Albert. he blows out the prisoner's brains with a pistol−shot. "Excellencies." inquired Franz of his companion. by the streets!" cried Franz. It depends on the distance he may be from the city. then. At the sixtieth minute of this hour. if the money is not forthcoming." said Albert. your excellencies?" "By the streets." said Franz. "if the way be picturesque." "By the Porta del Popolo or by the streets. twelve hours. my dear fellow. "are you still disposed to go to the Colosseum by the outer wall?" "Quite so.

to avoid this abundant supply of . Franz bethought him of having heard his singular entertainer speak both of Tunis and Palermo. found themselves opposite a cicerone. the travellers would find themselves directly opposite the Colosseum. The carriage stopped near the Meta Sudans. and Gaeta. proving thereby how largely his circle of acquaintances extended. and that was the mysterious sort of intimacy that seemed to exist between the brigands and the sailors. reminded Franz of the two Corsican bandits he had found supping so amicably with the crew of the little yacht. and further. and the young men. eagerly alighting. they had paid two conductors. The very name assumed by his host of Monte Cristo and again repeated by the landlord of the Hotel de Londres. at Rome. in which his mysterious host of Monte Cristo was so strangely mixed up. One fact more than the rest brought his friend "Sinbad the Sailor" back to his recollection. This itinerary possessed another great advantage. Seated with folded arms in a corner of the carriage. which had even deviated from its course and touched at Porto−Vecchio for the sole purpose of landing them. abundantly proved to him that his island friend was playing his philanthropic part on the shores of Piombino. however.Chapter 34 419 then by cutting off the right angle of the street in which stands Santa Maria Maggiore and proceeding by the Via Urbana and San Pietro in Vincoli. and Spain. nor is it possible. −− that of leaving Franz at full liberty to indulge his deep reverie upon the subject of Signor Pastrini's story. arriving at a satisfactory reply to any of them. the door was opened. and Pastrini's account of Vampa's having found refuge on board the vessels of smugglers and fishermen. Civita−Vecchio. who appeared to have sprung up from the ground. they were at once dispersed at the sight of the dark frowning ruins of the stupendous Colosseum. through the various openings of which the pale moonlight played and flickered like the unearthly gleam from the eyes of the wandering dead. But however the mind of the young man might be absorbed in these reflections. The usual guide from the hotel having followed them. as on those of Corsica. and to ask himself an interminable number of questions touching its various circumstances without. Ostia. Tuscany. so unexpected was his appearance. he continued to ponder over the singular history he had so lately listened to.

and finishing with Caesar's "Podium. it would have been so much the more difficult to break their bondage. but dragged the unconscious visitor to the various objects with a pertinacity that admitted of no appeal. but blindly and confidingly surrendered themselves into the care and custody of their conductors. beginning. and. Albert had already made seven or eight similar excursions to the Colosseum. therefore.Chapter 34 420 guides. Scarcely. the young men made no attempt at resistance. they essayed not to escape from their ciceronian tyrants. was duly and deeply touched with awe and enthusiastic admiration of all he saw. to escape a jargon and mechanical survey of the wonders by which he was surrounded. 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 through the routine regularly laid down. and as regularly followed by them. and the many voices of Fame spread far and wide the surpassing merits of this incomparable monument. and. and never quits you while you remain in the city. then. indeed. It may. who seizes upon you directly you set foot in your hotel. than. as the guides alone are permitted to visit these monuments with torches in their hands. and. almost to each part of a monument. Franz ascended a half−dilapidated staircase. all must bow to the superiority of the gigantic labor of the Caesars."). with the Lions' Den. whose rays are sufficiently clear and vivid to light the horizon with a glow equal to the soft twilight of an eastern clime. be easily imagined there is no scarcity of guides at the Colosseum. Thus. which Martial thus eulogizes: "Let Memphis cease to boast the barbarous miracles of her pyramids. while his less favored companion trod for the first time in his life the classic ground forming the monument of Flavius Vespasian. had the reflective Franz walked a hundred steps beneath the interior porticoes of the ruin. and the wonders of Babylon be talked of no more among us. and more especially by moonlight. that wonder of all ages. to his credit be it spoken. even amid the glib loquacity of the guides. his mind. as a matter of course. therefore. there is also a special cicerone belonging to each monument −− nay. leaving them ." As for Albert and Franz. and certainly no adequate notion of these stupendous ruins can be formed save by such as have visited them. besides the ordinary cicerone.

strong fibrous shoots forced . There was nothing remarkable in the circumstance of a fragment of granite giving way and falling heavily below. who endeavored as much as possible to prevent his footsteps from being heard. Around this opening. but the hesitation with which he proceeded. like Franz. About ten feet from the spot where he and the stranger were. for ages permitted a free entrance to the brilliant moonbeams that now illumined the vast pile. which permitted him to enjoy a full and undisturbed view of the gigantic dimensions of the majestic ruin. holding torches in their hands. And his appearance had nothing extraordinary in it. resembling. the roof had given way. stopping and listening with anxious attention at every step he took. which had. 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. seated himself at the foot of a column. possibly. but it seemed to him that the substance that fell gave way beneath the pressure of a foot. The stranger thus presenting himself was probably a person who. leaving a large round opening. and immediately opposite a large aperture. while large masses of thick. gradually emerging from the staircase opposite. Franz had remained for nearly a quarter of an hour perfectly hidden by the shadow of the vast column at whose base he had found a resting−place. and from whence his eyes followed the motions of Albert and his guides. had emerged from a vomitarium at the opposite extremity of the Colosseum.Chapter 34 421 to follow their monotonous round. who. grew a quantity of creeping plants. Franz withdrew as much as possible behind his pillar. was approaching the spot where he sat. whose delicate green branches stood out in bold relief against the clear azure of the firmament. upon which the moon was at that moment pouring a full tide of silvery brightness. convinced Franz that he expected the arrival of some person. some restless shades following the flickering glare of so many ignes−fatui. for the figure of a man was distinctly visible to Franz. Conjecture soon became certainty. and also that some one. thickly studded with stars. and then again disappeared down the steps conducting to the seats reserved for the Vestal virgins. as they glided along. through which might be seen the blue vault of heaven. By a sort of instinctive impulse. preferred the enjoyment of solitude and his own thoughts to the frivolous gabble of the guides.

he grasped a floating mass of thickly matted boughs." said the man. "'tis I who am too soon." "Say not a word about being late. over which descended fashionably cut trousers of black cloth. −− that the person whom he was thus watching certainly belonged to no inferior station of life. "I beg your excellency's pardon for keeping you waiting. that rendered it impossible to distinguish his features. and then leaped lightly on his feet." . although his dress was easily made out. Some few minutes had elapsed. when a slight noise was heard outside the aperture in the roof. The lower part of his dress was more distinctly visible by the bright rays of the moon. 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. and the figure of a man was clearly seen gazing with eager scrutiny on the immense space beneath him. The person whose mysterious arrival had attracted the attention of Franz stood in a kind of half−light." replied the stranger in purest Tuscan. one fold of which. and almost immediately a dark shadow seemed to obstruct the flood of light that had entered it. "I came here direct from the Castle of St." "Your excellency is perfectly right in so thinking. I should have felt quite sure that the delay was not occasioned by any fault of yours. Angelo. he could only come to one conclusion. thrown over his left shoulder. From the imperfect means Franz had of judging. while the upper part was completely hidden by his broad−brimmed hat. and hung floating to and fro. served likewise to mask the lower part of his countenance. But even if you had caused me to wait a little while.Chapter 34 422 their way through the chasm. "but I don't think I'm many minutes after my time. and I had an immense deal of trouble before I could get a chance to speak to Beppo." said the man. as his eye caught sight of him in the mantle. ten o'clock his just struck on the Lateran. He wore a large brown mantle. and glided down by their help to within three or four feet of the ground. then. in the Roman dialect. entering through the broken ceiling. which. shed their refulgent beams on feet cased in elegantly made boots of polished leather. like so many waving strings.

* he is an atrocious villain. Perhaps some of these days I may be entrapped." "Why. that you have inspired not only the pontifical government. too. I see." "But Peppino did not even belong to my band: he was merely a poor shepherd. what did you glean?" "That two executions of considerable interest will take place the day after to−morrow at two o'clock. whose only crime consisted in furnishing us with provisions. and so help me out of prison. instead of being knocked on the head as you would be if once they caught hold of you. as is customary at Rome at the commencement of all great festivals. "The fact is. like poor Peppino and may be very glad to have some little nibbling mouse to gnaw the meshes of my net. you see. and I give him so much a year to let me know what is going on within his holiness's castle." . by which means. and there is a spectacle to please every spectator." "Briefly. that they are glad of all opportunity of making an example. is poor Peppino. But mark the distinction with which he is treated.Chapter 34 423 "And who is Beppo?" "Oh. your excellency. and deserves not the smallest pity. who murdered the priest who brought him up.** and he." "Which makes him your accomplice to all intents and purposes." * Knocked on the head. ** Beheaded." "Indeed! You are a provident person. The other sufferer is sentenced to be decapitato. Beppo is employed in the prison. he is simply sentenced to be guillotined. with such extreme fear. but also the neighboring states. One of the culprits will be mazzolato. no one knows what may happen. the amusements of the day are diversified.

and during that year.000 piastres. by the assistance of their stilettos. I should hate and despise myself as a coward did I desert the brave fellow in his present extremity. who. "What did your excellency say?" inquired the other. and convinces me that my scheme is far better than yours." said the man in the cloak. and carry off the prisoner." "That seems to me as hazardous as uncertain. but one thing I have resolved on. and. drive back the guard." "My good friend. to stop at nothing to restore a poor devil to liberty." "Perhaps I am. I will so advantageously bestow 2. at a signal from me. who has got into this scrape solely from having served me." "And what do you mean to do?" "To surround the scaffold with twenty of my best men. and that is.000 piastres will afford him the means of escaping from his prison. another skilfully placed 1. suddenly expressing himself in French. that the person receiving them shall obtain a respite till next year for Peppino. will rush forward directly Peppino is brought for execution. ." "And what is your excellency's project?" "Just this. "excuse me for saying that you seem to me precisely in the mood to commit some wild or extravagant act.Chapter 34 424 "Without reckoning the wholly unexpected one I am preparing to surprise them with." "And do you feel sure of succeeding?" "Pardieu!" exclaimed the man in the cloak.

and every minute sub−divided into sixty seconds? Now in 86. if it is any satisfaction to you to do so. who." "None whatever. and that you have but one day to work in." "Remember. Take what precautions you please. that I would do more single−handed by the means of gold than you and all your troop could effect with stilettos. and blunderbusses included.400 seconds very many things can be done. it will be as well to acquaint Peppino with what we have determined on. carbines. Leave me. each hour into sixty minutes. and have no fears for the result. will hand it to the executioner. if it be only to prevent his dying of fear or losing his senses. having a large cross in red marked on it." "Oh. there can be no harm in myself and party being in readiness." "And whom will you employ to carry the reprieve to the officer directing the execution?" "Send one of your men. disguised as a penitent friar. I have engaged the three lower windows at the Cafe Rospoli. to act." . but rely upon my obtaining the reprieve I seek. His dress will procure him the means of approaching the scaffold itself." "At least." "And how shall I know whether your excellency has succeeded or not. the execution is fixed for the day after tomorrow." "And what of that? Is not a day divided into twenty−four hours. the two outside windows will be hung with yellow damasks. that is very easily arranged. in case your excellency should fail. my good fellow. then. in his turn. and the centre with white. and I will give it to him. pistols. in the meantime. because in either case a very useless expense will have been incurred.Chapter 34 425 "I said. and he will deliver the official order to the officer. should I have obtained the requisite pardon for Peppino.

who are visiting the Colosseum by torchlight. "you are fully persuaded of my entire devotion to you." replied the cavalier in the cloak. when I. "I hear a noise. if once the extent of our intimacy were known. if you obtain the reprieve?" "The middle window at the Cafe Rospoli will be hung with white damask. then. your excellency will find me what I have found you in this my heavy trouble. on the word and faith of" −− "Hush!" interrupted the stranger. those guides are nothing but spies. my good friend. I am sadly afraid both my reputation and credit would suffer thereby. and if from the other end of the world you but write me word to do such or such a thing. in my turn. but the most absolute obedience from myself and those under me that one human being can render to another." "And if you fail?" . bearing a red cross. may require your aid and influence. and. and might possibly recognize you. only fulfil your promise of rescuing Peppino. "Well. are you not?" "Nay. for done it shall be. I flatter myself that there can be no doubt of it. you may regard it as done." "Have a care how far you pledge yourself." "'Tis some travellers. for I may remind you of your promise at some. my worthy friend." "'Twere better we should not be seen together." "Well." said the man. then. not very distant period." "Let that day come sooner or later.Chapter 34 426 "Your excellency. and henceforward you shall receive not only devotion. however I may be honored by your friendship. perhaps.

and. the Transteverin disappeared down the staircase. use your daggers in any way you please. half bitter. Franz was on the road to the Piazza de Spagni. Franz let him proceed without interruption. 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 made the lofty building re−echo with the sound of his friend's name. your excellency. and descended to the arena by an outward flight of steps. hear them when or where he might. Adieu. and though Franz had been unable to distinguish his features." "We understand each other perfectly. in fact. and free to ponder over all that had occurred. then." "And then?" "And then. 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. yet well−pitched voice that had addressed him in the grotto of Monte Cristo. while his companion. Franz. touching the iron−pointed nets used to prevent the ferocious beasts from springing on the spectators. whose mysterious meeting in the Colosseum he had so unintentionally witnessed. my good fellow. did not hear what was said. and I further promise you to be there as a spectator of your prowess. however. depend upon me as firmly as I do upon you. that Franz's ear recalled most vividly the deep sonorous. the more entire was his conviction. In ten minutes after the strangers had departed. passed almost close to Franz. after the manner of Pliny and Calpurnius. It was more especially when this man was speaking in a manner half jesting." Saying these words. listening with studied indifference to the learned dissertation delivered by Albert. he longed to be alone.Chapter 34 427 "Then all three windows will have yellow draperies. was an entire stranger to him. One of the two men. and which he heard for the second time amid the darkness and ruined grandeur of the Colosseum. muffling his features more closely than before in the folds of his mantle. but not so the other. . And the more he thought. The next minute Franz heard himself called by Albert. from his being either wrapped in his mantle or obscured by the shadow.

and also what performers appeared in it. but fully promising himself a rich indemnity for his present forbearance should chance afford him another opportunity. Yes. with propriety.Chapter 34 428 that the person who wore the mantle was no other than his former host and entertainer. in a single day he had accomplished what his more serious−minded companion would have taken weeks to effect. judge that his appearance at such a time would be anything but agreeable. he had sent to engage a box at the Teatro Argentino. but in the present instance. the confidential nature of the conversation he had overheard made him. having a number of letters to write." supported by three of the most renowned vocalists of Italy. delighted with his day's work. relinquished the carriage to Albert for the whole of the day. therefore. and La Specchia. he had seen (as he called it) all the remarkable sights at Rome. and the principal actors were Coselli. At five o'clock Albert returned. and Franz. In vain did Franz endeavor to forget the many perplexing thoughts which assailed him. the firmer grew his opinion on the subject. and had received in return more invitations to balls and routs than it would be possible for him to accept. Moriani. in vain did he court the refreshment of sleep. Franz would have found it impossible to resist his extreme curiosity to know more of so singular a personage. had reason to consider themselves fortunate in having the opportunity of hearing one of the best works by the composer of "Lucia di Lammermoor. The young men. As we have seen. he fell asleep at daybreak. 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. therefore. Albert had employed his time in arranging for the evening's diversion. The opera of "Parisina" was announced for representation. Worn out at length. and the more he thought. and with that intent have sought to renew their short acquaintance. he had been occupied in leaving his letters of introduction. he permitted his former host to retire without attempting a recognition. Like a genuine Frenchman." Under any other circumstances. Neither had he neglected to ascertain the name of the piece to be played that night at the Teatro Argentino. and did not awake till late. "Sinbad the Sailor. Albert had . besides this.

as. as elsewhere. the lovely Genoese. should thus be passed over. Albert de Morcerf commanded an income of 50. at least to their lovers. all these defects pressed hard on a man who had had his stall at the Bouffes. there might be an exception to the general rule. Yet he could not restrain a hope that in Italy. and a genealogical tree is equally estimated. he was a viscount −− a recently created one. but internally he was deeply wounded. and that upon his return he should astonish the Parisian world with the recital of his numerous love−affairs. to think that Albert de Morcerf. Alas. Albert displayed his most dazzling and effective costumes each time he visited the theatres. alas. and merely have his labor for his pains. And the thing was so much the more annoying. 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.Chapter 34 429 never been able to endure the Italian theatres. well−looking young man. a more than sufficient sum to render him a personage of considerable importance in Paris. that they are faithful even in their infidelity. Albert had quitted Paris with the full conviction that he had only to show himself in Italy to carry all before him. besides being an elegant. Sometimes Albert would affect to make a joke of his want of success. and his self−love immensely piqued. but in the present day it is not necessary to go as far back as Noah in tracing a descent. Albert. was also possessed of considerable talent and ability. hoped to indemnify . poor Albert! none of those interesting adventures fell in his way. whether dated from 1399 or merely 1815. or open boxes. 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. Albert. and Neapolitans were all faithful. Florentines. certainly. with their orchestras from which it is impossible to see. but to crown all these advantages. Still. and had shared a lower box at the Opera. and thought not of changing even for the splendid appearance of Albert de Morcerf. however. and the absence of balconies. but. moreover. in spite of this. according to the characteristic modesty of a Frenchman.000 livres. his elegant toilet was wholly thrown away. if not to their husbands. the most admired and most sought after of any young person of his day.

as to prevent the least attention being bestowed even on the business of the stage. were all so much engrossed with themselves. The Carnival was to commence on the morrow. and an introduction might ensue that would procure him the offer of a seat in a carriage. therefore Albert had not an instant to lose in setting forth the programme of his hopes. it had cost less than would be paid at some of the French theatres for one admitting merely four occupants. for this reason. he might not in truth attract the notice of some fair Roman. he leaned from his box and began attentively scrutinizing the beauty of each pretty woman. Another motive had influenced Albert's selection of his seat.Chapter 34 430 himself for all these slights and indifferences during the Carnival. −− who knew but that. and is. from which he might behold the gayeties of the Carnival? These united considerations made Albert more lively and anxious to please than he had hitherto been. into whose good graces he was desirous of stealing. aided by a powerful opera−glass. Rome is the spot where even the wisest and gravest throw off the usual rigidity of their lives. but. and deign to mingle in the follies of this time of liberty and relaxation. and exerted himself to set off his personal attractions by the aid of the most rich and elaborate toilet. expectations. knowing full well that among the different states and kingdoms in which this festivity is celebrated. generally styled the "nobility's boxes. The truth was. their lovers. and it was but too apparent that the lovely creatures. this attempt to attract notice wholly failed. alas. with the "holy week" that was to succeed it. or a place in a princely balcony. Totally disregarding the business of the stage." and although the box engaged for the two friends was sufficiently capacious to contain at least a dozen persons. thus advantageously placed. at certain conventional moments. so filled every fair breast. the spectators would suddenly cease their . With this design he had engaged a box in the most conspicuous part of the theatre. and claims to notice. or their own thoughts. The box taken by Albert was in the first circle. not even curiosity had been excited. although each of the three tiers of boxes is deemed equally aristocratic. that the anticipated pleasures of the Carnival. that they had not so much as noticed him or the manipulation of his glass. The actors made their entries and exits unobserved or unthought of.

I have only had the honor of being in her society and conversing with her three or four times in my life. and. what do you think of her?" "Oh." . I know her by name!" exclaimed Albert." At that instant. are you really on such good terms with her as to venture to take me to her box?" "Why." "And her name is −− " "Countess G−−−− . to which he replied by a respectful inclination of the head. or rouse themselves from their musings. "Upon my word. the countess perceived Franz. I was to have been presented to her when I met her at Madame Villefort's ball. a lady entered to whom Franz had been introduced in Paris. or to join in loud applause at the wonderful powers of La Specchia. The quick eye of Albert caught the involuntary start with which his friend beheld the new arrival. a well−executed recitative by Coselli. to listen to some brilliant effort of Moriani's. a Venetian." "Shall I assist you in repairing your negligence?" asked Franz. he said hastily. they quickly relapsed into their former state of preoccupation or interesting conversation. "Do you know the woman who has just entered that box?" "Yes. turning to him. "she is said to possess as much wit and cleverness as beauty. but that momentary excitement over. and graciously waved her hand to him. where indeed. she is perfectly lovely −− what a complexion! And such magnificent hair! Is she French?" "No. but you know that even such an acquaintance as that might warrant my doing what you ask.Chapter 34 431 conversation." "Ah. he had imagined she still was. "My dear fellow. Towards the close of the first act. the door of a box which had been hitherto vacant was opened.

of taste. believe me. −− I mean that of judging the habits and customs of Italy and Spain by our Parisian notions. as we did last night." "You are mistaken in thinking so. my good fellow? Pray tell me. there is a similarity of feeling at this instant between ourselves and the countess −− nothing more. or all but alone. indeed. then?" "I was." returned Franz calmly. with a beautiful woman in such a place of sentiment as the Colosseum. 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. by moonlight. the living should be my theme. "you must have been a very entertaining companion alone.Chapter 34 432 said Albert." continued Franz gravely." . "you seem to be on excellent terms with the beautiful countess. we talked of the illustrious dead of whom that magnificent ruin is a glorious monument!" "Upon my word." "And what did you say to her?" "Oh. nothing is more fallacious than to form any estimate of the degree of intimacy you may suppose existing among persons by the familiar terms they seem upon. is it sympathy of heart?" "No." "You were with her." "Is there." cried Albert. and nearly alone. "but you merely fall into the same error which leads so many of our countrymen to commit the most egregious blunders. "And in what manner has this congeniality of mind been evinced?" "By the countess's visiting the Colosseum.

" "Well." "Oh." "My good friend. you must admire Moriani's style and execution. arranged his cravat and wristbands. and signified to Franz that he was waiting for him to lead the way. then. Are you not going to keep your promise of introducing me to the fair subject of our remarks?" "Certainly. turning to him." "What a confounded time this first act takes. directly the curtain falls on the stage." "But what an awkward." "At least. yes. How exquisitely Coselli sings his part." The curtain at length fell on the performances. I believe. when one has been accustomed to Malibran and Sontag. inelegant fellow he is. "you seem determined not to approve. "never mind the past. Franz. let us only remember the present." "I never fancied men of his dark. you are really too difficult to please. they will. and received from her a gracious smile in token that he would be welcome. who seized his hat." "But.Chapter 34 433 "And you will probably find your theme ill−chosen. my dear fellow. on my soul. . rapidly passed his fingers through his hair." said Franz. that they never mean to finish it. breaking in upon his discourse. ponderous appearance singing with a voice like a woman's. only listen to that charming finale. while Albert continued to point his glass at every box in the theatre. who had mutely interrogated the countess. to the infinite satisfaction of the Viscount of Morcerf. what do you say to La Specchia? Did you ever see anything more perfect than her acting?" "Why. you know. such singers as these don't make the same impression on you they perhaps do on others." said Albert.

both as regarded his position in society and extraordinary talents. unwilling to interfere with the pleasure he so evidently felt. to inquire of the former if she knew who was the fair Albanian opposite. the door was immediately opened. from the ease and grace with which she wore it. At the knock. The countess. was a woman of exquisite beauty. instantly rose and surrendered his place to the strangers. if he wished to view the ballet. who availed himself of the few minutes required to reach the opposite side of the theatre to settle the height and smoothness of his collar. and the young man who was seated beside the countess. was her national attire. and began in his turn to survey the audience. for in Paris and the circle in which the viscount moved.Chapter 34 434 sought not to retard the gratification of Albert's eager impatience. took up Albert's glass. in obedience to the Italian custom. and concluded by asking pardon for his presumption in having taken it upon himself to do so. was the outline of a masculine figure. and had requested him (Franz) to remedy the past misfortune by conducting him to her box. but in deep shadow. in reply. This important task was just completed as they arrived at the countess's box. Behind her. then. would be expected to retire upon the arrival of other visitors. which evidently. but the features of this latter personage it was not possible to distinguish. she recommended Franz to take the next best. closely followed by Albert. deeply grieved at having been prevented the honor of being presented to the countess during her sojourn in Paris. but situated on the third row. dressed in a Greek costume. Albert was soon deeply engrossed in discoursing upon Paris and Parisian matters. Franz perceived how completely he was in his element. and extended her hand with cordial kindness to Franz. was most anxious to make up for it. inviting Albert to take the vacant seat beside her. and pointed to the one behind her own chair. Franz added that his companion. since beauty such as hers was well worthy . who. Franz could not forbear breaking in upon the apparently interesting conversation passing between the countess and Albert. and. Sitting alone. speaking to the countess of the various persons they both knew there. but began at once the tour of the house. nor did he say more than the truth. bowed gracefully to Albert. and to arrange the lappets of his coat. in the front of a box immediately opposite. Franz presented Albert as one of the most distinguished young men of the day. in turn. he was looked upon and cited as a model of perfection.

Chapter 34 435 of being observed by either sex. are all engaged on the stage at the same time. animated looks contrasting strongly with the utter indifference of her companion. "All I can tell about her. The ballet at length came to a close." replied the countess. unanimous plaudits of an enthusiastic and delighted audience. Sometimes she is accompanied by the person who is now with her." However much the ballet might have claimed his attention. cymbals. while Franz returned to his previous survey of the house and company. and a hundred and fifty persons may be seen exhibiting the same attitude. which was one of those excellent specimens of the Italian school. during the whole time the piece lasted. for I saw her where she now sits the very first night of the season. The curtain rose on the ballet. method. never even moved. and since then she has never missed a performance. her eager. as far as appearances might be trusted. or elevating the same arm or leg with a simultaneous movement. one act of volition. that would lead you to suppose that but one mind. who. and Chinese bells sounded their loudest from the orchestra. I consider her perfectly lovely −− she is just my idea of what Medora must have been. influenced the moving mass −− the ballet was called "Poliska. and the curtain fell amid the loud. crashing din produced by the trumpets. Franz was too deeply occupied with the beautiful Greek to take any note of it. not even when the furious. enjoying soft repose and bright celestial dreams. "is." "And what do you think of her personal appearance?" "Oh. from the principal dancers to the humblest supernumerary. admirably arranged and put on the stage by Henri. that she has been at Rome since the beginning of the season. Of this he took no heed. while she seemed to experience an almost childlike delight in watching it. and then the latter resumed her conversation with Albert. but was. and elegance in which the whole corps de ballet. ." Franz and the countess exchanged a smile. and at others she is merely attended by a black servant. 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.

Franz now listened to it for the third time. for he left his seat to stand up in front. and the very same person he had encountered the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum. and was about to join the loud. expressive and terrible conceptions that has ever emanated from the fruitful pen of Donizetti. while the dancers are executing their pirouettes and exhibiting their graceful steps. leaning forward again on the railing of her box. yet its notes. and whose voice and figure had seemed so familiar to him. The overture to the second act began. while sleeping. his hands fell by his sides. The countenance of the person who had addressed her remained so completely in the shade. Franz had no difficulty in recognizing him as the mysterious inhabitant of Monte Cristo. The injured husband goes through all the emotions of jealousy. Franz observed the sleeper slowly arise and approach the Greek girl. but suddenly his purpose was arrested. Excited beyond his usual calm demeanor. the pauses between the performances are very short. Franz rose with the audience. so tenderly expressive and fearfully grand as the wretched husband and wife give vent to their different griefs and passions. and his eyes turned from the box containing the Greek girl and her strange companion to watch the business of the stage. All doubt of his . This duet is one of the most beautiful. when necessary. he could not distinguish a single feature. in a frenzy of rage and indignation. betrays to Azzo the secret of her love for Ugo. and. at the first sound of the leader's bow across his violin. thrilled through the soul of Franz with an effect equal to his first emotions upon hearing it. and the attention of Franz was attracted by the actors. until conviction seizes on his mind. enthusiastic applause that followed. he awakens his guilty wife to tell her that he knows her guilt and to threaten her with his vengeance. and then. that. The occupant of the box in which the Greek girl sat appeared to share the universal admiration that prevailed. though Franz tried his utmost. so that. the singers in the opera having time to repose themselves and change their costume. who turned around to say a few words to him. and then. The curtain rose. and the half−uttered "bravos" expired on his lips. Most of my readers are aware that the second act of "Parisina" opens with the celebrated and effective duet in which Parisina. his countenance being fully revealed. she became as absorbed as before in what was going on.Chapter 34 436 Owing to the very judicious plan of dividing the two acts of the opera with a ballet.

he looks more like a corpse permitted by some friendly grave−digger to quit his tomb for a while." replied Franz. after gazing with a puzzled look at his face." said the countess." said Franz." "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. whose history I am unable to furnish. and directing it toward the box in question. tell us all about −− is he a vampire. and revisit this earth of ours. "Countess. "that those who have once seen that man will never be likely to forget him. seems to me as though he had just been dug up." answered the countess. shrugging up her beautiful shoulders. "I know no more of him than yourself. and I even think he recognizes me. How ghastly pale he is!" "Oh." The . "Then you know him?" almost screamed the countess. burst into a fit of laughter. "Oh." continued the countess. "that the gentleman. "All I can say is. pray do. totally unheeding her raillery.Chapter 34 437 identity was now at an end. for heaven's sake. taking up the lorgnette. or a resuscitated corpse. he is always as colorless as you now see him. than anything human. The surprise and agitation occasioned by this full confirmation of Franz's former suspicion had no doubt imparted a corresponding expression to his features. "I asked you a short time since if you knew any particulars respecting the Albanian lady opposite. his singular host evidently resided at Rome. I must now beseech you to inform me who and what is her husband?" "Nay. and begged to know what had happened." returned Franz. or what?" "I fancy I have seen him before." "And I can well understand. as though an involuntary shudder passed through her veins. for the countess.

felt the same unaccountable awe and misgiving. no. "Byron had the most perfect belief in the existence of vampires. "you must not leave me. or where she comes from. and the father of a yet more unfortunate family." whispered Franz. "Is it possible. although he could but allow that if anything was likely to induce belief in the existence of vampires. that the woman with him is altogether unlike all others of her sex. xxii. another. Then observe. −− the same ghastly paleness. a dealer in magical arts.Chapter 34 438 sensation experienced by Franz was evidently not peculiar to himself. too. 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. I depend upon you to escort me home. Nobody knows who she is. and even assured me that he had seen them. Oh. The description he gave me perfectly corresponds with the features and character of the man before us. ch. rising from his seat. in which a wild." said Franz. and is. unearthly fire seems burning. large bright. No doubt she belongs to the same horrible race he does. that he is no other than Lord Ruthven himself in a living form. "that you entertain any fear?" "I'll tell you. "Well." This fresh allusion to Byron* drew a smile to Franz's countenance. "I must positively find out who and what he is. She is a foreigner −− a stranger. "what do you think of our opposite neighbor?" "Why. indeed. like himself. I cannot permit you to go. after the countess had a second time directed her lorgnette at the box. and wholly uninterested person. glittering eyes. it would be the presence of such a man as the mysterious personage before him." −− The Abbot. he is the exact personification of what I have been led to expect! The coal−black hair." answered the countess." cried the countess. I entreat of you ." inquired Franz." * Scott. of course: "The son of an ill−fated sire. Oh. "No.

"and do not be so very headstrong. from whence he came. and if to−morrow your curiosity still continues as great." . except relinquish my determination of finding out who this man is. I am going home. I have more reasons than you can imagine for desiring to know who he is. I say." "I will do anything you desire." Franz protested he could not defer his pursuit till the following day. for many reasons. Franz perceived that she had deceived him when she spoke of expecting company. For that purpose I mean to keep you all to myself. Upon arriving at her hotel." said the countess. It was quite evident. that I might compose my startled mind. by her manner. and therefore cannot possibly remain till the end of the opera." Franz essayed to smile. "do not smile. on the contrary.Chapter 34 439 not to go near him −− at least to−night. pursue your researches if you will. in reply to her companion's half−reproachful observation on the subject. that her uneasiness was not feigned. and offer the countess his arm." said she. as it arose from a variety of corroborative recollections. it ill accords with the expression of your countenance. open the door of the box. promise me one thing. "Excuse my little subterfuge. originally created in her mind by the wild tales she had listened to till she believed them truths. and I am sure it does not spring from your heart. 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. but to−night you neither can nor shall. "Listen to me. "but that horrid man had made me feel quite uncomfortable. her own return before the appointed hour seemed greatly to astonish the servants." "What is it?" "Promise me. Now. However. I have a party at my house to−night. and whither he is going." There was nothing else left for Franz to do but to take up his hat. and I longed to be alone." said the countess. "Nay. 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. and Franz himself could not resist a feeling of superstitious dread −− so much the stronger in him.

" said Franz. you must have perceived that . 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. and have really nothing to conceal." So saying. once and forever. do not serve as a conductor between that man and me. her reputation would be gone forever. that you entertain a most erroneous notion concerning Italian women. "is it really you? Why. but never bring him near me. Why.Chapter 34 440 "Where he comes from I am ignorant. leaving him unable to decide whether she were merely amusing herself at his expense." replied Franz." cried he. And now. or whether her fears and agitations were genuine. smoking a cigar. and make no attempt to follow this man to−night. Upon his return to the hotel. and try to sleep away all recollections of this evening. Pursue your chase after him to−morrow as eagerly as you please. Besides. "My dear fellow. For heaven's sake. Franz found Albert in his dressing−gown and slippers. springing up. I am quite sure I shall not be able to close my eyes. these women would puzzle the very Devil to read them aright." "And the very reason why the women of this fine country put so little restraint on their words and actions. For my own part." "Upon my soul. here −− they give you their hand −− they press yours in return −− they keep up a whispering conversation −− permit you to accompany them home. There are certain affinities between the persons we quit and those we meet afterwards. the countess quitted Franz. "Well. is because they live so much in public." "My dear Albert. "I am glad of this opportunity to tell you. go to your rooms. without the least doubt. then. and that is down below. if you would not see me die of terror. I did not expect to see you before to−morrow. but I can readily tell you where he is going to." "Let us only speak of the promise you wished me to make. you must give me your word to return immediately to your hotel. good−night. Why. listlessly extended on a sofa. if a Parisian were to indulge in a quarter of these marks of flattering attention.

" "Indeed. for my part." "At what? At the sight of that respectable gentleman sitting opposite to us in the same box with the lovely Greek girl? Now. Of what nature?" . but then." Franz smiled. but they were uttered in the Romaic dialect. did he?" "I think so. I was arranging a little surprise for you. He was rather too pale. I knew that from the mixture of Greek words. paleness is always looked upon as a strong proof of aristocratic descent and distinguished breeding." "What do you say?" "Nothing. if I can guess where you took your notions of the other world from. But tell me. that tends to confirm my own ideas." said Franz. I feel quite sure. I met them in the lobby after the conclusion of the piece. "that the countess's suspicions were destitute alike of sense and reason. you know. Did he speak in your hearing? and did you catch any of his words?" "I did. and hang me. what were you thinking about when I came in?" "Oh. I don't know whether I ever told you that when I was at college I was rather −− rather strong in Greek.Chapter 34 441 the countess was really alarmed. from the cut of his clothes. past all doubt. I can assure you that this hobgoblin of yours is a deuced fine−looking fellow −− admirably dressed." "That settles it. they are made by a first−rate Paris tailor −− probably Blin or Humann." "He spoke the Romaic language. Indeed. nothing. "Well. "'Tis he." murmured Franz. for he well remembered that Albert particularly prided himself on the entire absence of color in his own complexion. certainly.

" "Well." "Neither can we procure horses?" "True. in this difficulty a bright idea has flashed across my brain. then." "I listen." "Very possibly. you know it is quite impossible to procure a carriage. do you not." . and I also know that we have done all that human means afforded to endeavor to get one. we have offered any sum. but have failed." "Now." cried Albert. hearken to me." "Certainly. "you deserve to be called out for such a misgiving and incredulous glance as that you were pleased to bestow on me just now. what do you say to a cart? I dare say such a thing might be had." "And I promise to give you the satisfaction of a gentleman if your scheme turns out as ingenious as you assert. that obtaining a carriage is out of the question?" "I do." "Well. Sir Franz." "And a pair of oxen?" "As easily found as the cart. now. "I tell you what." "You agree. then." Franz looked at Albert as though he had not much confidence in the suggestions of his imagination.Chapter 34 442 "Why.

so you see we must do without this little superfluity." said Franz. Our group would then be quite complete. my good fellow. he told me there would not be time. and I then explained to him what I wished to procure. when I bade him have the horns of the oxen gilded. Ha. It would add greatly to the effect if the countess would join us in the costume of a peasant from Puzzoli or Sorrento." "And where is he now?" "Who?" "Our host. "this time. unhappy strangers. we may get up a striking tableau. The cart must be tastefully ornamented." "And quite a national one." "And have you communicated your triumphant idea to anybody?" "Only to our host. after the manner of that splendid picture by Leopold Robert. trot at the heels of your processions. when we can't have one thing we invent another. He assured me that nothing would be easier than to furnish all I desired. I am bound to give you credit for having hit upon a most capital idea. more especially as the countess is quite beautiful enough to represent a madonna. ye Romans! you thought to make us. because no carriages or horses are to be had in your beggarly city." replied Albert with gratified pride.Chapter 34 443 "Then you see. ha. Albert." "Gone out in search of our equipage. One thing I was sorry for. as it would require three days to do that. by to−morrow it might be too late. too. Upon my return home I sent for him. "A mere masque borrowed from our own festivities." "Well. But you don't know us. like so many lazzaroni." . with a cart and a couple of oxen our business can be managed. and if you and I dress ourselves as Neapolitan reapers.

"that the Count of Monte Cristo is living on the same floor with yourselves!" "I should think we did know it." asked Albert. "Take care." returned Signor Pastrini in a tone indicative of unbounded self−confidence." "Let your excellencies only leave the matter to me." responded the landlord. with the air of a man perfectly well satisfied with himself. "But do you think." said Albert. "Certainly −− certainly. and the head of Signor Pastrini appeared. "But what have you done?" asked Franz. like two poor students in the back streets of Paris. mine host. the Count of Monte Cristo. my worthy host. "Permesso?" inquired he. swelling with importance. "since it is owing to that circumstance that we are packed into these small rooms." cried Franz." "Your excellencies are aware. then. "have you found the desired cart and oxen?" "Better than that!" replied Signor Pastrini. then." asked Albert eagerly." "When. hearing of the dilemma in which you are placed." "Now. "Speak out." At this instant the door opened. "Come in. "that we ought to accept such offers from a perfect stranger?" . there's a worthy fellow." "Oh.Chapter 34 444 "Then he will be able to give us an answer to−night. "better is a sure enemy to well. has sent to offer you seats in his carriage and two places at his windows in the Palazzo Rospoli." exclaimed Albert." The friends looked at each other with unutterable surprise. I expect him every minute.

" The servant bowed and retired. and." replied Franz. "that if this person merited the high panegyrics of our landlord. A servant. He would have written −− or" −− At this instant some one knocked at the door. wearing a livery of considerable style and richness. "A very great nobleman. but this I know. "begs these gentlemen's permission to wait upon them as their neighbor. "You were quite correct in what you said. from the Count of Monte Cristo to Viscomte Albert de Morcerf and M. "that we will do ourselves the pleasure of calling on him. and he will be honored by an intimation of what time they will please to receive him. "Come in. "Still. who forthwith presented them to the two young men." whispered Albert. he would have conveyed his invitation through another channel. Franz. Franz d'Epinay." continued the servant. "Please to deliver these. 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 ." "Tell the count. but whether Maltese or Sicilian I cannot exactly say. appeared at the threshold. and not permitted it to be brought to us in this unceremonious way. "Of course we do." "Then you accept his offer?" said the host. Signor Pastrini." said Franz. "That is what I call an elegant mode of attack." said Albert. The Count of Monte Cristo is unquestionably a man of first−rate breeding and knowledge of the world. placing two cards in the landlord's hands. speaking in an undertone to Albert.Chapter 34 445 "What sort of person is this Count of Monte Cristo?" asked Franz of his host." "It seems to me." replied Albert." "Faith." said Franz. he said. that he is noble as a Borghese and rich as a gold−mine. The Count of Monte Cristo. "there is not much to find fault with here.

"Pray. 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. it was very certain he could not escape this time." asked Franz. and in waking speculations as to what the morrow would produce. and also to prosecute his researches respecting him with perfect facility and freedom. but if your reason for inquiry is that you may procure a window to view it from. your excellency. I might have done so from Monte Pincio −− could I not?" "Ah!" exclaimed mine host. Franz?" "Oh. The first act of Franz was to summon his landlord. possessed the ring of Gyges. you are much too late. the Count of Monte Cristo. "is not some execution appointed to take place to−day?" "Yes. who had not the same motives for early rising. I agree with you. "I had no such intention. What say you. Signor Pastrini. was still soundly asleep. by way of recompense for the loss of our beautiful scheme." answered Franz. I don't know but what I should have held on by my original plan." "Oh. in which the stranger in the cloak had undertaken to obtain the freedom of a condemned criminal. "I did not think it likely your excellency would have chosen to mingle with such a rabble as are always collected on that . who presented himself with his accustomed obsequiousness. no. and unless his near neighbor and would−be friend." The truth was. Eight o'clock found Franz up and dressed. then he should be able to establish his identity. the windows in the Palazzo Rospoli alone decided me. Franz passed the night in confused dreams respecting the two meetings he had already had with his mysterious tormentor. 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 next day must clear up every doubt. and even if I had felt a wish to witness the spectacle. while Albert. and by its power was able to render himself invisible.Chapter 34 446 Rospoli.

your excellency! Only a few minutes ago they brought me the tavolettas. beseech of heaven to grant them a sincere repentance. indeed. he may obtain every requisite information concerning the time and place etc. and mode of punishment. that is a most delicate attention on your part. their names. which. dear. that all good and faithful Catholics may offer up their prayers for the unfortunate culprits. their crimes. your excellency! I have not time for anybody's affairs but my own and those of my honorable guests." "Upon my word." cried Franz." "Very possibly I may not go." "What particulars would your excellency like to hear?" "Why. and. above all. and he brings them to me as he would the playbills." "And these tablets are brought to you that you may add your prayers to those of the faithful. Signor Pastrini. they consider as exclusively belonging to themselves. the number of persons condemned to suffer. that in case any person staying at my hotel should like to witness an execution. are they?" asked Franz somewhat incredulously. but I make an agreement with the man who pastes up the papers.Chapter 34 447 hill. no. "Oh. give me some particulars of to−day's executions. The reason for so publicly announcing all this is. on which is pasted up a paper containing the names of the condemned persons. ." "What are they?" "Sort of wooden tablets hung up at the corners of streets the evening before an execution." "That happens just lucky. and description of the death they are to die. "but in case I feel disposed." answered Franz.

who read as follows: −− "`The public is informed that on Wednesday. executions will take place in the Piazza del Popolo. therefore. The first−named malefactor will be subjected to the mazzuola." returned the landlord. named Don Cesare Torlini." "Nothing can be easier than to comply with your excellency's wish. opening the door of the chamber. he handed it to Franz. but at the moment he prepared . and his band. and Peppino. and Franz deemed it advisable to awaken Albert. the second culprit beheaded. by order of the Tribunal of the Rota. the former found guilty of the murder of a venerable and exemplary priest. Time was getting on. Meanwhile. was still pursuing his philanthropic expedition in Rome. named Andrea Rondola. your excellency." Then." but who. close by your apartment. and to grant them a hearty and sincere repentance for their crimes. my most excellent host. being the first day of the Carnival. and the latter convicted of being an accomplice of the atrocious and sanguinary bandit.Chapter 34 448 "Why. the Transteverin was no other than the bandit Luigi Vampa himself. that it may please God to awaken them to a sense of their guilt. of two persons. and mode of punishment. "I have caused one to be placed on the landing." said the landlord. and you may rely upon me to proclaim so striking a proof of your attention to your guests wherever I go. −− the names of the condemned persons. John Lateran. February 23d.'" This was precisely what Franz had heard the evening before in the ruins of the Colosseum. The prayers of all good Christians are entreated for these unfortunate men. no doubt. all agreed with his previous information. their crimes. "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. however. otherwise called Rocca Priori. canon of the church of St. chuckling and rubbing his hands with infinite complacency." "I see that plainly enough. Luigi Vampa. No part of the programme differed. and the man shrouded in the mantle the same he had known as "Sinbad the Sailor. In all probability. as he had already done at Porto−Vecchio and Tunis. taking the tablet from the wall. oblige me by a sight of one of these tavolettas.

" "Well. and I can answer for his having been up these two hours. I will take all the blame on myself if you find I have led you into an error." The landlord preceded the friends across the landing. "I signori Francesi." said Franz. "since we are both ready. let us do so. rang at the bell. The richest Turkey carpets covered the floor. "Now. and sofas. Splendid paintings by the first masters were ranged against the walls." The domestic bowed respectfully." "Let us go and return our best thanks for his courtesy. "If . my excellent Signor Pastrini. while heavy curtains of costly tapestry were suspended before the different doors of the room. offered their high−piled and yielding cushions to such as desired repose or refreshment. and the softest and most inviting couches." "Then you really consider we shall not be intruding if we pay our respects to him directly?" "Oh. furnished in a luxurious manner they had not expected to see under the roof of Signor Pastrini.Chapter 34 449 to proceed to his chamber. do you think we may proceed at once to visit the Count of Monte Cristo?" "Most assuredly. his friend entered the room in perfect costume for the day. easy−chairs. Albert?" "Perfectly." replied he. upon the door being opened by a servant. intermingled with magnificent trophies of war. if it be so. which was all that separated them from the apartments of the count. are you ready. addressing his landlord. The anticipated delights of the Carnival had so run in his head as to make him leave his pillow long before his usual hour. and were shown into an elegantly fitted−up drawing−room." "Yes. then. I am quite sure. said. "The Count of Monte Cristo is always an early riser. and. and invited them to enter. They passed through two rooms.

but was almost immediately lost. hush!" replied Franz. and almost immediately afterwards the tapestry was drawn aside." . but also his extraordinary host of Monte Cristo. "Well. "I will let the count know that you are here. 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." "Hush." And with these words he disappeared behind one of the tapestried portieres. in a manner. and I have held myself at your disposal. and the owner of all these riches stood before the two young men. for the rapid closing of the door merely allowed one rich swell of harmony to enter." said Franz to his friend. and the occupant of the box at the Teatro Argentino. As the door opened. upon my soul. but I feared to disturb you by presenting myself earlier at your apartments. but Franz remained. you sent me word that you would come to me. or some prince travelling incog. he heard the sound of a door turning on its hinges. "what think you of all this?" "Why. Chapter 35 La Mazzolata. Franz and Albert looked inquiringly at each other. the sound of a guzla reached the ears of the young men. Albert instantly rose to meet him.Chapter 35 450 your excellencies will please to be seated." said the Count of Monte Cristo as he entered. my dear fellow. "Gentlemen." said the man. "I pray you excuse me for suffering my visit to be anticipated. for in the person of him who had just entered he recognized not only the mysterious visitant to the Colosseum. Everything seemed more magnificent at a second view than it had done at their first rapid survey. spellbound on his chair. besides. "we shall ascertain who and what he is −− he comes!" As Franz spoke. then at the gorgeous furnishings of the apartment.

he did not know whether to make any allusion to the past. Franz had. to let things take their course without making any direct overture to the count. "you extricated us from a great dilemma. he had come to no determination. alone and isolated as I am." returned Albert." returned the count. besides. count. he resolved to lead the conversation to a subject which might possibly clear up his doubts. therefore. while the count had no hold on Franz.Chapter 35 451 "Franz and I have to thank you a thousand times. that I did not sooner assist you in your distress. he had this advantage." He extended his hand. He did not mention a syllable of your embarrassment to me. I most eagerly seized the opportunity of offering my services. Can you tell us where we can obtain a sight of the Piazza del Popolo?" "Ah." "Indeed. "Count. and we were on the point of inventing a very fantastic vehicle when your friendly invitation reached us. He resolved. found nothing to say. when he knows that. "Stay. who had nothing to conceal. motioning the two young men to sit down." said he to Franz. looking attentively at Morcerf." said he. or wait until he had more proof. and rang the bell thrice." said the count negligently. However. "is there not something like an execution upon the Piazza del Popolo?" "Yes. as yet." The two young men bowed. and as nothing in the count's manner manifested the wish that he should recognize him." returned Franz. I seek every opportunity of making the acquaintance of my neighbors. "It was the fault of that blockhead Pastrini. Moreover. "with the employment of time and the means of simplifying the summoning your . I think I told my steward yesterday to attend to this. finding that the count was coming to the point he wished. although sure it was he who had been in the box the previous evening. "Did you ever occupy yourself. perhaps I can render you this slight service also. As soon as I learned I could in any way assist you. he could not be equally positive that this was the man he had seen at the Colosseum. he was master of the count's secret. and at your windows in the Rospoli Palace. "you have offered us places in your carriage.

lay covers for three. but let us know when breakfast is ready. you will give me great pleasure. Bertuccio. thrice. it is for my valet. When I ring once. twice." continued the count. "for I saw the account. the 23d of February. taking out his tablets." "Not at all. You will. and was about to quit the room. −− thus I do not waste a minute or a word. "but it was very late. excellency." said Franz. `that to−day. do me the honor to breakfast with me?" "But. "Monsieur Bertuccio. turning to the two friends. return it to me at Paris. exactly resembling the smuggler who had introduced Franz into the cavern. for my majordomo. Monsieur Bertuccio. and be in readiness on the stairs to conduct us to it. "we shall abuse your kindness." "Yes. "Ah. and if he can send us an account of the execution. in the same tone with which he would have read a newspaper.Chapter 35 452 servants? I have." The steward bowed." said Albert. that is sufficient. These gentlemen. which was let to Prince Lobanieff. one or other of you." added he." "There is no need to do that. It was evident he had his orders. and copied it down. but I was obliged to pay a hundred" −− "That will do −− that will do. "you have procured me windows looking on the Piazza del Popolo. "`We announce." A man of about forty−five or fifty entered. will be executed Andrea . frowning. Bertuccio. for my steward. on the contrary.' he read." "Did I not tell you I wished for one?" replied the count. "will. as I ordered you yesterday." said the count." He then took Franz's tablets out of his hand. M. my dear count. but he did not appear to recognize him. spare these gentlemen all such domestic arrangements. I trust. "And your excellency has one. perhaps both. Give orders to the coachman." "Very well. Here he is. You have the window. M." returned the steward. "be good enough to ask Pastrini if he has received the tavoletta. you can retire.

the second decapitato. "one would think that you had studied the different tortures of all the nations of the world. convicted of complicity with the detestable bandit Luigi Vampa. and there mention was made of something like a pardon for one of the two men." continued the count. called Rocca Priori. but the mazzuola still remains. for Peppino. as you must know. count. carelessly.' Hum! `The first will be mazzolato. like the soldier who beheaded the Count of Chalais. few that I have not seen. is very simple. never strikes thirty times ineffectually. never trembles.' Yes. "No. "Yes. canon of the church of St. called Rocca Priori. but I think since yesterday some change has taken place in the order of the ceremony. or rather the old age. while the other." * Guillotine. in a contemptuous tone. The mandaia* never fails. and to whose tender mercy Richelieu had doubtless recommended the sufferer." replied the count. guilty of murder on the person of the respected and venerated Don Cesare Torlini. "for the other (he glanced at the tablets as if to recall the name). and Peppino." "For Andrea Rondolo?" asked Franz. You are thus deprived of seeing a man guillotined. of cruelty. John Lateran. and even the second. Ah.Chapter 35 453 Rondolo. "Really. and the men of his band." replied Franz." added the count. at least. "And you took pleasure in beholding these dreadful spectacles?" ." "There are. "it was at first arranged in this way. "do not tell me of European punishments. they are in the infancy. which is a very curious punishment when seen for the first time." "Really?" said Franz." said the count coldly. I passed the evening at the Cardinal Rospigliosi's.

"that where society." "Listen. and deep hatred mounted to his face. "pray explain your meaning. the second indifference. the third curiosity. and allows him who has caused us years of moral sufferings to escape with a few moments of physical pain?" "Yes." "Why so? In life. death may be a torture. for you excite my curiosity to the highest pitch. according to their different characters. but it is not an expiation. that is all." replied Franz. different persons bear the transition from life to death.Chapter 35 454 "My first sentiment was horror. "If a man had by unheard−of and excruciating tortures destroyed your father. your betrothed. −− a being who. is it not then. and even the different customs of their countries. in your breast." "Curiosity −− that is a terrible word." "I do not quite understand you. temperaments." said Franz. curious to study the different ways by which the soul and body can part. −− 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." continued the count. a wound that never closes. the easier it becomes to die yourself. or offering him even the insufficient means of vengeance. attacked by the death of a person. she can give blood in return for blood. I can assure you of one thing. −− the more men you see die." said the count. avenges death by death. our greatest preoccupation is death." "I will put another case to you. and how. I know. left a desolation. "that human justice is insufficient to console us. but you must demand from her only what it is in her power to grant. when torn from you. your mother. and in my opinion. But are there not a thousand tortures by which a man may be made to suffer without society taking the least cognizance of them. of which we have just spoken? Are there not crimes . from existence to annihilation? As for myself. as the blood would to the face of any other.

upon my soul. and which are unpunished by society? Answer me. a man has seduced your wife. the augers of the Persians. absolved of all crime in the eyes of the world." said Franz to the count. for a blow. are inadequate tortures. I would give back the same. as the Orientalists say. which renders you at once judge and executioner of your own cause. −− our masters in everything. were it possible. and despair in your heart. I would fight for such a cause. "had I to avenge myself. "and it is to punish them that duelling is tolerated. −− those favored creatures who have formed for themselves a life of dreams and a paradise of realities. "with this theory. or pass a sword through the breast. I would fight a duel for a trifle. "Oh. thanks to my skill in all bodily exercises. rage carries you away. Oh. and he who pours out vengeance . astonished at this strange theory. duelling. an eye for an eye. but in return for a slow. for an insult." "But. a man has dishonored your daughter. "a pleasant manner." replied the count. of that man who has planted madness in your brain. yes. that it is often he who comes off victorious from the strife. moreover. and the more so that. it is not thus I would take revenge. of arriving at your end when that end is vengeance! A man has carried off your mistress." answered Franz." "Ah. Hatred is blind. it would be difficult to adopt a course that would forever prevent your falling under the power of the law. and you think you are avenged because you send a ball through the head. No. the stake and the brand of the Iroquois Indians. profound. I should be almost certain to kill my man." "Then you disapprove of duelling? You would not fight a duel?" asked Albert in his turn. "understand me. 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. a tooth for a tooth. And remember.Chapter 35 455 for which the impalement of the Turks. eternal torture. and the indifference to danger I have gradually acquired. do not these crimes exist?" "Yes." continued the count. an existence of misery and infamy." cried the count. no.

besides. Franz looked repeatedly at Albert. As for the count. the recollection of the terror with which the count had inspired the Countess G−−−− . "Well. but let us first sit down to table. I recollect. and admirably served. and awaited their departure to be served with some strange or more delicate food. and which the philanthropic French Revolution has substituted for being torn to pieces by horses or broken on the wheel. saying −− "Al suo commodo!" The two young men arose and entered the breakfast−room. but. 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. which was excellent." "Yes. really this is a most singular conversation for the Carnival. gentlemen. This brought back to Franz. in spite of himself. 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. At the end of the breakfast Franz took out his watch. What matters this punishment. as long as he is avenged? On my word. in order to observe the impressions which he doubted not had been made on him by the words of their entertainer.Chapter 35 456 runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught. "what are you doing?" . as you might have had an opportunity then of seeing how short a time the punishment lasts. you shall have it. During the meal. he just touched the dishes. the worst that could happen to him would be the punishment of which we have already spoken. he seemed to fulfil the duties of a host by sitting down with his guests. for here comes the servant to inform us that breakfast is ready. or whether the events which Franz knew of had had their effect on him alone. not if he be rich and skilful. he remarked that his companion did not pay the least regard to them. the worst in the world." said the count. how did it arise? Ah. if he be poor and inexperienced." As he spoke. you asked for a place at my window. and her firm conviction that the man in the opposite box was a vampire. and whether it is worth even mentioning. I almost regret that in all probability this miserable Peppino will not be beheaded. a servant opened one of the four doors of the apartment.

"Before or after. and we had passed the previous night at a tavern. and you. and I leave you at liberty to dispose of my place at the Piazza del Popolo. whichever you please. I have reflected on the matter. a private room in the Piazza del Popolo." "Opposite the scaffold?" "The scaffold forms part of the fete." returned the count." "Do not concern yourself about that." "After the execution?" cried Franz. and you can dress there." said Franz.Chapter 35 457 "You must excuse us. "I thank you for your courtesy. −− "I saw Castaing executed." "Count. "and the recital from your lips will make as great an impression on me as if I had witnessed it." "But I warn you." "What may that be?" "We have no masks. count. "You will describe it to me. and it is absolutely necessary to procure them. we have. but I think I was rather intoxicated that day." replied the viscount. but I shall content myself with accepting a place in your carriage and at your window at the Rospoli Palace. for I had quitted college the same morning." returned Franz. you will lose a very curious sight. I have more than once intended witnessing an execution. Albert?" "I." . I will have whatever costumes you choose brought to us. but I have never been able to make up my mind. I think. "but we have still much to do." replied Franz.

despatch the dying." "I will go on foot. If you went to Spain." "Well. like you. Think of the eighty thousand applauding spectators. We will send the carriage to wait for us on the Piazza del Popolo. by the Strada del Babuino. then. when a churchman is killed." "Let us go. through the Corso.Chapter 35 458 "Besides. but on our way to the Piazza del Popolo. count?" "On foot. in a carriage. `How do they execute at Rome?' and you reply. besides. and the sports where they killed three hundred lions and a hundred men. the sage matrons who took their daughters. I hesitated. then." said Franz. myself. we will go by the Corso. "since you wish it. who killed with a log of wood a worthy canon who had brought him up like his own son. Albert?" asked Franz. `Come. Is this possible. to see if some orders I have given have been executed. yes. they say that the culprit is an infamous scoundrel. it is to see everything." . `I do not know'! And. especially when he has behaved like a father. it is no reason because you have not seen an execution at Paris. Think what a figure you will make when you are asked. then. that you should not see one anywhere else. there is something I wish to see. it should be with a different weapon than a log. and the charming Vestals who made with the thumb of their white hands the fatal sign that said.'" "Shall you go. Diable. no. when you travel. "Ma foi." "Is it important that you should go that way?" "Yes. for I shall be glad to pass. I wish to pass through the Corso. yes. suppose it is a bull−fight you are going to see? Recollect the ancient Romans of the Circus. but the count's eloquence decides me. would you not see the bull−fight? Well.

and moreover. sending a volume of smoke up towards the ceiling. of the Stoic school. and tell him I am nothing of the kind. read much. "that he has excellent cigars." The young men rose and returned into the salon. gentlemen. left by another door. "that is not very surprising. is." said a servant. and we will go another." added he. "I know who he is.Chapter 35 459 "Excellency. and. if you . like Brutus. "what think you of the Count of Monte Cristo?" "What do I think?" said Albert." said he. while the count. "The carriage is going one way to the Piazza del Popolo. Albert. an instant after the count entered. gentlemen. evidently surprised at such a question from his companion." asked Franz. sighing. I beg. "I think he is a delightful fellow. approached the table. undeceive him. and as Franz well knew that Albert professed never to form an opinion except upon long reflection. "a man in the dress of a penitent wishes to speak to you." said he." "Ah. The first opportunity you have. and my clothes are of a most antiquated cut. who has travelled much. the count takes me for a provincial. "But. again apologizing. will you return to the salon? you will find good cigars on the centre table." replied he. "Well. and uttered a cry of joy at perceiving some veritable puros. "I am now quite at your service. he made no attempt to change it. I will be with you directly. opening the door. "did you observe one very singular thing?" "What?" "How attentively he looked at you. and who had considered it no small sacrifice to be deprived of the cigars of the Cafe de Paris. yes" returned the count. who was a great smoker. "Ah." Such was Albert's opinion of the count." −− Albert reflected." Franz smiled. I have been more than a year absent from Paris. who does the honors of his table admirably." "At me?" "Yes.

by the Corso. The three windows were still untenanted." "With all my heart. The man in the mantle had kept his promise to the Transteverin. was on the second floor of the great palace. del Corso. it is half−past twelve −− let us set off. with as much indifference as he could assume. I will return all this. and the centre one with white damask and a red cross. I intend going there soon. scaffolds were raised. meet. and the doors. As they approached the Piazza del Popolo." returned Albert. The masks could not appear. Albert. The side windows were hung with yellow damask. While the three gentlemen walked along the Piazza de Spagni and the Via Frattina. Franz. and the count continued to descend the Corso. "Italian cigars are horrible. with a negligence evidently unaffected. When you come to Paris. Franz glanced rapidly towards the three windows. and windows were hung with flags. and there could now be no doubt that he was the count. chairs were placed. the carriages could not move about. Preparations were making on every side. the two uprights of the scaffold. and di Ripetta.Chapter 35 460 please. surmounted by a cross. which led directly between the Fiano and Rospoli palaces. Take some more of these cigars. The window. At the corner of the street they met the count's steward. and in front of the obelisk. for he had not forgotten the signal agreed upon between the man in the mantle and the Transtevere peasant. let at an exorbitant price. "Which are your windows?" asked he of the count. which the count had doubtless wished to conceal from his guests. and since you allow me. Franz's attention was directed towards the windows of that last palace. the carriages. we have not any time to lose." returned he. the crowd became more dense. M." All three descended. I will pay you a visit. "The three last. Come. the coachman received his master's orders. de Morcerf. who was awaiting his master. del Babuino. for he could not imagine with what intention the question was put. between which glittered the curved knife of the mandaia. situated between the . which marks the centre of the square." "I will not refuse. but the masks were visible behind the windows. at the point where the three streets. and above the heads of the multitude two objects were visible: the obelisk. and drove down the Via del Babuino.

and formed a circle around it. leaving a path about ten feet wide. reached to the scaffold. opening into a bedroom. One of them lifted the plank. . as they will be the most worn this year. the inmates were quite alone. The prisoners." said the count to the two friends. as we have said. of a small dressing−room. on account of the confetti (sweetmeats). −− we say guillotine. Many women held their infants on their shoulders. placed on each side of the door of the church. for he was wholly absorbed by the spectacle that the Piazza del Popolo presented. These two men were the executioner's assistants. Two men. that cuts with the convex side. in a chapel closed by a grating. the steps even seemed a parti−colored sea. while waiting for the criminal. falls from a less height. and. the balconies of the two churches at the corner of the Via del Babuino and the Via di Ripetta were crammed. On chairs were laid elegant masquerade costumes of blue and white satin. and thus the children had the best view. It consisted. before which were two sentinels. Their repast consisted apparently of bread and sausages. All the rest of the square was paved with heads. every niche in the wall held its living statue. had passed the night." Franz heard the words of the count but imperfectly. "I have had these brought. transported the previous evening from the Carcere Nuovo to the little church of Santa Maria del Popolo. drank some.* The knife. that was impelled towards the portico. seated on the movable plank on which the victim is laid. when the door of communication was shut. as they do not show the flour. and around the guillotine a space of nearly a hundred feet. and then passed it to his companion. each accompanied by two priests. What the count said was true −− the most curious spectacle in life is that of death. and he perhaps did not fully appreciate this new attention to their wishes. were eating their breakfasts. It was the first time Franz had ever seen a guillotine.Chapter 35 461 Via del Babuino and the Monte Pincio. because the Roman mandaia is formed on almost the same model as the French instrument. The Monte Pincio seemed a vast amphitheatre filled with spectators. took out a flask of wine. and by the terrible instrument that was in the centre. "As you left the choice of your costumes to me. and that is all the difference. At this sight Franz felt the perspiration start forth upon his brow. which is shaped like a crescent. and they are most suitable. A double line of carbineers. who were relieved at intervals.

as if by magic. This man was the executioner. disclosed his white teeth. sandals bound on his feet by cords. Each of them. Suddenly the tumult ceased. and the doors of the church opened. A brotherhood of penitents. with the exception of cloth drawers at the left side of which hung a large knife in a sheath. appeared first. in the order in which they were to die. first Peppino and then Andrea. his head fell on his shoulder. such as Franz had never before witnessed in them. and he bore on his right shoulder a heavy iron sledge−hammer. . Each was accompanied by two priests. Neither had his eyes bandaged. He had. from time to time. kissed the crucifix a confessor held out to them. and his lips. only the commencement of the Carnival. The count alone seemed unmoved −− nay. and mechanically cast away his cigar. It was evident that the execution was. doubtless aware of what awaited him. bronzed by the sun. small and sharp like those of a jackal. laughter and jests arose from the crowd. Peppino walked with a firm step. although he had not half smoked it. in the eyes of the people. He was naked. Peppino was a handsome young man of four or five and twenty. His nostrils dilated like those of a wild beast that scents its prey. clothed from head to foot in robes of gray sackcloth. and his movements were apparently automatic and unconscious. and holding in their hands lighted tapers. However. did not indicate age. In prison he had suffered his beard to grow. Guillotin got the idea of his famous machine from witnessing an execution in Italy. and seemed on the watch to see on which side his liberator would appear. his visage. a slight color seemed striving to rise in his pale cheeks.Chapter 35 462 And yet. he carried his head erect. He looked at Albert −− he was as white as his shirt. and as they approached their faces became visible. * Dr. Behind the executioner came. the chief marched at the head. with holes for the eyes. he might be thirty. moreover. marked with brutal cruelty. his legs bent beneath him. And yet his features wore an expression of smiling tenderness. his black eyes especially were full of kindness and pity. the two culprits advanced. At this sight alone Franz felt his legs tremble under him. instead of the silence and the solemnity demanded by the occasion. more. Andrea was short and fat. Behind the penitents came a man of vast stature and proportions. Andrea was supported by two priests. half opened.

" said Franz to the count. "Pardon for whom?" cried he. here it is." said he in a loud voice. The piercing eye of Peppino had noticed all. I will not die alone −− I will not!" And he broke from the priests struggling and raving like a wild beast." "Yes. a priest arrived in some haste. "For Peppino!" cried Andrea." "And see. The executioner made a sign. And he passed the paper to the officer commanding the carbineers. "A pardon for Peppino. The chief took the paper." "If the pardon is to come. for. "And yet here are two culprits. I was promised he should die with me. and his two assistants leaped from the scaffold and seized him. gave him a folded paper. "that you told me there would be but one execution. but only one of these two is about to die. and. "What is going on?" asked Franz of the count. . At the moment when Peppino reached the foot of the mandaia." said the count. who seemed roused from the torpor in which he had been plunged." replied he coldly. he had not perfectly understood it.Chapter 35 463 "I thought. "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. the other has many years to live. "Why for him and not for me? We ought to die together. called Rocca Priori." said the principal friar. Peppino remained breathless. "Heaven be praised. "Do you not see?" returned the count. and his holiness also. and. forced his way through the soldiers. there is no time to lose. You have no right to put me to death alone." "I told you true. advancing to the chief of the brotherhood. as all the talk was in the Roman dialect. who read and returned it to him. unfolded it. raising his hand. and striving desperately to break the cords that bound his hands.

because his hands are bound. that another partook of his punishment −− that another partook of his anguish −− that another was to die before him. and it was dreadful to witness. upon whom God has laid his first. to love his neighbor −− man. and held him before the window. Here is a man who had resigned himself to his fate. Do you know what gave him strength? −− do you know what consoled him? It was." cried the count. this king of the creation!" And the count burst into a laugh. 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. a terrible laugh. And yet you pity a man who. However. without being bitten by one of his race. extending his clinched hands towards the crowd. Lead two sheep to the butcher's. this masterpiece of nature. look. "Put him to death! put him to death!" Franz sprang back. look!" . and he kept exclaiming. seizing the young men's hands −− "look. but the count seized his arm. but he was about to die without resistance. and who. now unable to kill any one. and twenty thousand voices cried.Chapter 35 464 "that this human creature who is about to die is furious that his fellow−sufferer does not perish with him? and. was only guilty of having been bitten by another dog. after all. whom God created in his own image −− man. The people all took part against Andrea. But man −− man. has yet murdered his benefactor. and make one of them understand that his companion will not die. for on my soul it is curious. that showed he must have suffered horribly to be able thus to laugh. and that at all times you are worthy of yourselves!" Meanwhile Andrea and the two executioners were struggling on the ground. No. "Do you pity him? If you heard the cry of `Mad dog!' you would take your gun −− you would unhesitatingly shoot the poor beast. two oxen to the slaughterhouse. the struggle still continued. Oh. man. "how well do I recognize you there. wishes to see his companion in captivity perish. no −− look. the sheep will bleat for pleasure. his sole commandment. the ox will bellow with joy. 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. man −− race of crocodiles." cried the count. Honor to man. who. who was going to the scaffold to die −− like a coward. it is true. were he able. "He ought to die! −− he shall die! −− I will not die alone!" "Look. "What are you doing?" said he.

"Well. only the people remained. and the count. He glanced mechanically towards the square −− the scene was wholly changed. full of noise and excitement. he stood in great need. the criminal strove to rise. and mounting on his stomach. was standing grasping the window−curtains. Franz was fascinated by the horrible spectacle. The bell of Monte Citorio. and his cries. "this horrible scene has passed away like a dream. as you see. into a seat. but. then. of which. scaffold." . but sank. Make haste and dress yourself. he saw Albert drinking a glass of water. and then turned over on his back. and with one stroke opened his throat. with his eyes closed. all had disappeared. happened?" "Nothing. "only." asked he of the count. to judge from his pallor. executioners. in spite of his struggles. When Franz recovered his senses. the mace fell on his left temple. The executioner let fall his mace." said Franz. stamped violently on it with his feet. was ringing a joyous peal. like the Avenging Angel! Chapter 36 The Carnival at Rome. and there. his bites. half fainting. and the man dropped like an ox on his face. At every stroke a jet of blood sprang from the wound. A dull and heavy sound was heard. The two assistants had borne Andrea to the scaffold. the Carnival his commenced. During this time the executioner had raised his mace. and signed to them to get out of the way. victims. which only sounds on the pope's decease and the opening of the Carnival. "what has.Chapter 36 465 The command was needless." "In fact. This time Franz could contain himself no longer. The count was erect and triumphant. had forced him to his knees." replied the count. drew his knife. who was assuming his masquerade costume. Albert. ere he had time.

" returned Albert. but the culprit?" "That is a dream also. gentlemen. only he has remained asleep. without even thanking the worthy priests who accompanied him. dress yourselves. was delighted to see that the general attention was directed towards his companion. "Well. see. and fastened on the mask that scarcely equalled the pallor of his own face." "Ma foi. Instead of the spectacle of gloomy and silent death. filled with sweetmeats and bouquets." said the count. But dress yourself. no." Albert was drawing on the satin pantaloon over his black trousers and varnished boots. a nightmare. M. and the real visage is disclosed. It must be allowed that Andrea was not very handsome. who. dress yourselves. He profited by this distraction to slip away among the crowd. they descended. It is difficult to form an idea of the perfect change that had taken place. Their toilet finished. and I understand what the count said −− that when you have once habituated yourself to a similar spectacle. Albert. that has disturbed you. that I have suffered. "on the steps of the scaffold death tears off the mask that has been worn through life. the carriage awaited them at the door. "But I am really glad to have seen such a sight. They fell into the line of carriages." said Franz. it is the only one that causes you any emotion. answer frankly. He assumed his costume. "do you feel much inclined to join the revels? Come. Decidedly man is an ungrateful and egotistical animal. who are happy in proportion as they are noticed. the Piazza del Popolo presented a spectacle of gay and noisy mirth and . unlike most men." Franz felt it would be ridiculous not to follow his two companions' example. the hideous scoundrel! Come. while you have awakened. de Morcerf sets you the example. and who knows which of you is the most fortunate?" "But Peppino −− what has become of him?" "Peppino is a lad of sense." "Without reflecting that this is the only moment in which you can study character." "Yes.Chapter 36 466 "It is but a dream.

At these balconies are three hundred thousand spectators −− Romans. gesticulating. have recourse to wine. companions and strangers. Franz and Albert were like men who. . yielding to the influence of the scene. and seizing handfuls of confetti and sweetmeats. and which. as in Callot's Temptation of St. descending from the windows. throwing eggs filled with flour. A crowd of masks flowed in from all sides. but little by little the general vertigo seized them. friends and foes. to drive away a violent sorrow. pricked his neck and that portion of his face uncovered by his mask like a hundred pins. A handful of confetti that came from a neighboring carriage. Transteverins. They saw. the image of what they had witnessed. Italians. the air seems darkened with the falling confetti and flying flowers. attacking. incited him to join in the general combat. buffaloes' heads below from men's shoulders. and they felt themselves obliged to take part in the noise and confusion. wealth. pantomimists. Imagine the large and splendid Corso. harlequins. and who. He rose in his turn. as they drink and become intoxicated. and no one took offence. bend over their balconies. and peasants. strangers from all parts of the world. mummers. and genius. in the midst of all this a mask is lifted. with their balconies hung with carpets. fighting. in which all the masks around him were engaged. screaming. and. In the streets the lively crowd is dressed in the most fantastic costumes −− gigantic cabbages walk gravely about. he had never for an instant shown any appearance of having been moved. dominoes. emerging from the doors. or did anything but laugh. and shower down confetti. nosegays. dogs walk on their hind legs. or rather continued to see. feel a thick veil drawn between the past and the present. From every street and every corner drove carriages filled with clowns. knights. and the recollection of what they had seen half an hour before was gradually effaced from the young men's minds. As for the Count of Monte Cristo.Chapter 36 467 revelry. bordered from one end to the other with lofty palaces. The strife had fairly begun. which are returned by bouquets. or lean from their windows. with which the carriage was filled. the united aristocracy of birth. with their sarcasms and their missiles. confetti. so much were they occupied by the gay and glittering procession they now beheld. indiscriminately. Lovely women. cast them with all the force and skill he was master of. while it covered Morcerf and his two companions with dust. and their windows with flags.

" We have forgotten to mention." "No." said he to Franz." said the count. "here was an opportunity of making up for past disappointments. and requested permission to withdraw. the line of carriages moved on again. In the meantime. "Ah. the other ascended towards the Palazzo di Venezia." ." "Oh. Franz looked up −− they were opposite the Rospoli Palace. you know you have places at my windows. exactly resembling Odry's in "The Bear and the Pasha. beneath which Franz's imagination easily pictured the beautiful Greek of the Argentina. "I hope the Carnival will not pass without some amends in one shape or the other. As for Albert. my dear fellow. leaving the vehicle at their disposal. and my servants. "you did not see?" "What?" "There." said Franz. he was busily occupied throwing bouquets at a carriage full of Roman peasants that was passing near him. but from which we are separated by troops of fiends. a lovely face is exhibited. springing out. that the count's coachman was attired in a bear−skin." "Well. Albert. Unfortunately for him. the one hung with white damask with a red cross. was a blue domino. Franz thanked the count for his attention. This will give a faint idea of the Carnival at Rome. At the centre window. "Gentlemen. and wish to become spectators of this scene. −− that calash filled with Roman peasants. dispose of my coachman.Chapter 36 468 Anthony. with spring masks." replied he. half laughing. with which they made grimaces at every one who passed. which we would fain follow. half serious. and while he descended the Piazza del Popolo. I am convinced they are all charming women. At the second turn the Count stopped the carriage." and the two footmen behind were dressed up as green monkeys. "when you are tired of being actors." "How unfortunate that you were masked. my carriage.

and your fair Circe must be very skilful or very powerful if she succeed in changing you into a beast of any kind. So I will not abandon this bouquet. Albert's mask fell off. "things go wonderfully." "On my word. 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 although the young men made several more turns. for. If the fair peasant wishes to carry matters any further. "Bravo. and as Franz had no reason to suppose it was meant for him. the one who had thrown the violets to Albert. the fair unknown had resolved. then she will give me some sign or other. "you are wise as Nestor and prudent as Ulysses." said Franz. she threw a bunch of violets." said Franz to him. laughing." said Franz. and I shall know what I have to do. they did not again see the calash. "there is the beginning of an adventure." "Laugh if you please −− I really think so. "I will not be caught like a fool at a first disclosure by a rendezvous under the clock. excepting two or three encounters with the carriage full of Roman peasants. and the carriage went triumphantly on. or rather." "Pardieu. to carry the intrigue no farther." Albert was right." The jest. soon appeared to become earnest. bravo. doubtless. accidentally or purposely." replied he. he suffered Albert to retain it. "in token of your ingratitude. for when Albert and Franz again encountered the carriage with the contadini." returned Franz. she will find us to−morrow. however. clapped her hands when she beheld them in his button−hole. as the carriage of the two friends passed her. as they say at the opera−balls. but the count and the blue domino had also . we shall find her. Albert seized it. which had turned up one of the neighboring streets. Shall I leave you? Perhaps you would prefer being alone?" "No. Albert placed it in his button−hole. in spite of Albert's hope. the day passed unmarked by any incident. "Well.Chapter 36 469 But. Then they returned to the Rospoli Palace. At one of these encounters.

moreover. "To make you two costumes between now and to−morrow? I ask your excellencies' pardon. we have them ready−made. the coachman. Leave all to me. passed along the Piazza di Spagni and the Rospoli Palace and stopped at the door of the hotel. "leave all to our host.Chapter 36 470 disappeared. At this moment the same bell that had proclaimed the beginning of the mascherata sounded the retreat. charged him to offer the two friends the key of his box at the Argentina. 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. and in a second all the carriages had disappeared. and afterwards go and see `The Algerian Captive. hung with yellow damask." "Then I must give up the idea?" "No. drove up it. and to−morrow." "My dear Albert. Franz and Albert were opposite the Via delle Maratte. Franz hastened to inquire after the count. but Pastrini reassured him by saying that the Count of Monte Cristo had ordered a second carriage for himself. were still occupied by the persons whom the count had invited. The host shook his head. and instead of making any answer. "A tailor. he inquired if Signor Pastrini could procure him a tailor. "and for what?" "To make us between now and to−morrow two Roman peasant costumes. The file on the Corso broke the line. let us dine quietly. and that it had gone at four o'clock to fetch him from the Rospoli Palace.'" . he has already proved himself full of resources." said the host. but this is quite a French demand. you shall find a collection of costumes with which you will be satisfied. the two windows. and to express regret that he had not returned in sufficient time." returned Albert. Franz questioned Albert as to his intentions. Signor Pastrini came to the door to receive his guests. The count had. when you awake." said Franz. without saying a word. but Albert had great projects to put into execution before going to the theatre.

who use their boxes to hold receptions. the two friends went to pay their respects to the countess. when she motioned to Franz to assume the seat of honor. and. "given positive orders that the carriage was to remain at their lordships' orders all day. Albert. "but remember. Signor Pastrini. and you are already the best friends in the world. Truth compelled Franz. that Franz saw it would be cruel not to satisfy her curiosity. The servant understood them. hardly giving Franz time to sit down. to confess that the advantage was not on Pastrini's side. they went to the theatre. but they could not refrain from remarking the difference between the Count of Monte Cristo's table and that of Signor Pastrini. This precaution taken. the servant inquired at what time they wished for the carriage. as he took off his dress." he said. Her opera−glass was so fixedly directed towards them." . in his turn. During dessert. "it seems you have nothing better to do than to make the acquaintance of this new Lord Ruthven. and installed themselves in the count's box. and they could therefore dispose of it without fear of indiscretion. upon which Franz and Albert mounted to their apartments. Her first look was at the box where she had seen the count the previous evening. while they substituted evening dress for that which they had on." said she. Albert." They resolved to profit by the count's courtesy. and proceeded to disencumber themselves of their costumes. and which was somewhat the worse for the numerous combats they had sustained. availing himself of one of the privileges of the spectators of the Italian theatres. fearing really to abuse the count's kindness. Albert and Franz looked at each other. 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. sat behind. During the first act. the Countess G−−−− entered. "Well. "His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo had. Scarcely had they entered. it was his token reserved for the morrow. that both my friend and myself attach the greatest importance to having to−morrow the costumes we have asked for. The two friends sat down to table.Chapter 36 471 "Agreed. and ordered the horses to be harnessed. carefully preserved the bunch of violets." The host again assured them they might rely on him. and that their wishes should be attended to. in spite of the dislike he seemed to have taken to the count." returned Albert.

" 'Tell it to me." "How so?" "It is a long story. my dear countess.Chapter 36 472 "Without being so far advanced as that." "You know him. this morning we breakfasted with him. and now we have taken possession of his box." "Through what medium?" "The very prosaic one of our landlord." "All day?" "Yes. but tell me how you made his acquaintance? Did any one introduce you to him?" "No. we rode in his carriage all day. and no." "It would frighten you too much. "I cannot deny that we have abused his good nature all day." "Very well. after we left you." "So much the more reason." "When?" "Last night. I prefer complete histories." returned Franz." "At least wait until the story has a conclusion." . then?" "Yes. it was he who introduced himself to us.

" "And he is a count?" "A Tuscan count." "Well. I am referred to you. smiling. you know?" "The Count of Monte Cristo." observed the countess." "What is his name −− for." returned Albert. who has taken the appearance of Lara in order to avoid being confounded with M. A friend of ten years' standing could not have done more for us. it is the name of the island he has purchased." "Come." "That is not a family name?" "No. who was herself from one of the oldest Venetian families. madam. de Morcerf." "You hear." said the countess. "We should be very hard to please. we must put up with that.Chapter 36 473 "He is staying. M. of course. and you have seen her?" "Her?" "The beautiful Greek of yesterday. or with a more perfect courtesy. but on the same floor. de Rothschild. "What sort of a man is he?" "Ask the Vicomte de Morcerf. "did we not think him delightful. at the Hotel de Londres with you?" "Not only in the same hotel." ." said the countess. then. "I see my vampire is only some millionaire.

but she remained perfectly invisible. Do you know what those three windows were worth?" "Two or three hundred Roman crowns?" "Two or three thousand. "it is only to keep up the mystery." . and one with white damask with a red cross? Those were the count's windows." "When you say invisible. he must be a nabob." "Why." "Does his island produce him such a revenue?" "It does not bring him a baiocco." interrupted Albert. the sound of her guzla. I think. "At the Rospoli Palace. Did you pass through the Corso?" "Yes." "The deuce. we heard. 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." "The count had three windows at the Rospoli Palace?" "Yes." "Well." "Then why did he purchase it?" "For a whim.Chapter 36 474 "No. did you notice two windows hung with yellow damask.

I pray you. let fall on his shoulder a stream of ribbons. and when his hat. "although a companion is agreeable. followed by a tailor." At this moment a fresh visitor entered. They were thus engaged when the Count of Monte Cristo entered. moreover. The next morning.Chapter 36 475 "He is an original. who had eight or ten Roman peasant costumes on his arm. and for the remainder of the Carnival. I should say he was a poor devil literally mad. and to procure them two of the long silk sashes of different colors with which the lower orders decorate themselves on fete−days. he entered Franz's room. perfect freedom is sometimes still more agreeable. silk stockings with clocks. then?" "In reality. so that you will not inconvenience me in any way. The host will tell you I have three or four more. the effect of changing the conversation." said he. and their red caps. This picturesque attire set him off to great advantage. which make them look like a bottle of wine with a red seal? Franz complimented Albert. Signor Pastrini had already set about procuring their disguises for the morrow. and a frequenter of the theatres. Franz gave up his seat to him. were he at Paris. shoes with buckles. placed coquettishly on one side. Albert was impatient to see how he looked in his new dress −− a jacket and breeches of blue velvet. I leave the carriage entirely at your disposal. Franz was forced to confess that costume has much to do with the physical superiority we accord to certain nations. Make use of it. according to custom. and a silk waistcoat. for your pleasure or your business. and." . This circumstance had. I come to say that to−day. This morning he made two or three exits worthy of Didier or Anthony. they selected two exactly alike. "he seemed to me somewhat eccentric. who looked at himself in the glass with an unequivocal smile of satisfaction. and when he had bound the scarf around his waist. The Turks used to be so picturesque with their long and flowing robes. "Gentlemen. and he assured them that they would be perfectly satisfied. and charged the tailor to sew on each of their hats about twenty yards of ribbon. an hour afterwards the two friends returned to their hotel. at nine o'clock. but are they not now hideous with their blue frocks buttoned up to the chin." observed Albert.

The two friends did not venture to return the count the breakfast he had given them. At half−past one they descended. as we have already said. like himself and his friend. The permission to do what he liked with the carriage pleased him above all. a bunch of fresh violets. the count appeared for an instant at his window. In the evening. and when he again met the calash. Albert placed the fresh bouquet in his button−hole. They told him so frankly. It is almost needless to say that the flirtation between Albert and the fair peasant continued all day. perfectly well acquainted with the literature of all countries. but they could find no good reason for refusing an offer which was so agreeable to them. he raised it to his lips. an action which seemed greatly to amuse not only the fair lady who had thrown it. while he had changed his costume they had assumed his. The Count of Monte Cristo remained a quarter of an hour with them. and he seemed much occupied with chemistry. the peasants had changed their costume. the coachman and footman had put on their livery over their disguises. and he received their excuses with the air of a man who appreciated their delicacy. it would have been too absurd to offer him in exchange for his excellent table the very inferior one of Signor Pastrini. which gave them a more ridiculous appearance than ever. perhaps even more animated and noisy. but he kept the faded one in his hand. and which gained them the applause of Franz and Albert. and Albert was not sorry to be upon an equal footing with them. Franz . also. conversing on all subjects with the greatest ease. At the first sound of the bell they hastened into the Corso by the Via Vittoria. but her joyous companions also. and whether it was the result of chance. The day was as gay as the preceding one. on his return. or whether a similar feeling had possessed them both. He was. thrown from a carriage filled with harlequins. 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. A few words he let fall showed them that he was no stranger to the sciences. for the fair peasants had appeared in a most elegant carriage the preceding evening.Chapter 36 476 The young men wished to decline. but when they again passed he had disappeared. indicated to Albert that. At the second turn. Albert had fastened the faded bunch of violets to his button−hole. A glance at the walls of his salon proved to Franz and Albert that he was a connoisseur of pictures.

one cannot incline one's self without awe before the venerable and noble old man called Gregory XVI. He insisted upon it. he was unwilling to quit the capital of the Christian world without laying his respectful homage at the feet of one of St. At each previous visit he had made to Rome. declaring beforehand that he was willing to make any sacrifice the other wished. Franz carefully avoided the Corso. he had solicited and obtained the same favor. The harlequin had reassumed her peasant's costume. but that he was unwilling to ask it. He felt assured that the perfect indiscretion of his friend would duly inform him of all that happened. that Albert seemed to have something to ask of him. and then avowed to Franz that he would do him a great favor by allowing him to occupy the carriage alone the next day. Franz remarked. while he gave these details. At ten minutes past five Albert entered overjoyed. and incited as much by a religious feeling as by gratitude. holding an enormous bouquet. he brought away with him a treasure of pious thoughts. which he doubtless meant to make the bearer of his amorous . a similar piece of good fortune had never fallen to his share. Franz congratulated Albert. 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. for in spite of his condescension and touching kindness. He therefore promised Albert that he would content himself the morrow with witnessing the Carnival from the windows of the Rospoli Palace. Albert let himself be pressed just as long as friendship required. He did not then think of the Carnival. He had recognized by certain unmistakable signs. Peter's successors who has set the rare example of all the virtues. who received his congratulations with the air of a man conscious that they are merited. to which the mad gayety of the maskers would have been profanation. during three years that he had travelled all over Italy. On his return from the Vatican. Franz was by no means sorry to learn how to act on such an occasion. and as. The next morning he saw Albert pass and repass. informing him that he would have the honor of being received by his holiness the next day. Albert attributed to Franz's absence the extreme kindness of the fair peasant in raising her mask. She was charming.Chapter 36 477 found a letter from the embassy. and as she passed she raised her mask. that his fair incognita belonged to the aristocracy. He had made up his mind to write to her the next day.

and that he should pass the next day in writing and looking over his journal." "Whether she goes there or not. Constancy and Discretion. When you arrive at the first step of the church of San Giacomo." Franz and Albert had received that morning an invitation from the celebrated Roman banker. but delirium." returned Albert. 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. and follow the Roman peasant who snatches your torch from you. "was I mistaken?" "She has answered you!" cried Franz. "All the nobility of Rome will be present. she must go there. also. Until then you will not see me. at seven o'clock. Albert. "Well. "what do you think of that?" "I think that the adventure is assuming a very agreeable appearance. The evening was no longer joy. Franz anticipated his wishes by saying that the noise fatigued him. Franz took the letter." asked he. "Well. "Read." said Franz. Albert was not deceived. and read: −− Tuesday evening. and if your fair incognita belong to the higher class of society.Chapter 36 478 epistle. my opinion is still the same. in order that you may be recognized." This word was pronounced in a manner impossible to describe. when Franz had finished." said he. descend from your carriage opposite the Via dei Pontefici. "Take care. be sure to fasten a knot of rose−colored ribbons to the shoulder of your harlequin costume." "I think so." replied Albert. for the next evening Franz saw him enter triumphantly shaking a folded paper which he held by one corner. "You have read the letter?" . "and I very much fear you will go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's ball. Albert nothing doubted but that the fair unknown would reply in the same manner.

" "You know how imperfectly the women of the mezzo cito are educated in Italy?" (This is the name of the lower class. Whether he kept a watch over himself. the Count of Monte Cristo was announced. Signor Pastrini informed them that business had called him to Civita Vecchia. "Laugh as much as you will. read the letter again. "I see that I shall not only go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's. however great Franz's desire was to allude to their former interview.Chapter 36 479 "Yes. and the orthography irreproachable. Albert's love had not taken away his appetite. he was to−night like everybody else. free to recommence the discussion after dinner. The man was an enigma to Franz." replied Albert. in reality. at least." (The writing was." said Albert. and yet he had not let fall a single word indicating any previous acquaintance between them." "You alarm me." cried Franz. "I shall fix myself at Rome for six weeks. the . The count must feel sure that Franz recognized him.) "Yes." Doubtless Albert was about to discuss seriously his right to the academic chair when they were informed that dinner was ready." "If my unknown be as amiable as she is beautiful.) "You are born to good fortune. They had not seen him for two days. On his side." "Well. any blemish in the language or orthography. and find if you can." said Franz." "Come. charming. and had only returned an hour since. He had started the previous evening. I adore Rome. as he returned the letter. "I am in love. He hastened with Franz to seat himself. but also return to Florence alone. two or three more such adventures. After dinner. Look at the writing. and I do not despair of seeing you a member of the Academy. or whether by accident he did not sound the acrimonious chords that in other circumstances had been touched. He was charming. and I have always had a great taste for archaeology.

Franz and Albert made some difficulty. He could not refrain from admiring the severe beauty of his features. he informed the countess of the great event which had . or rather the principal quality of which was the pallor. He was at least forty. This assurance determined the two friends to accept it. His forehead was marked with the line that indicates the constant presence of bitter thoughts. 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. a Byronic hero! Franz could not. he would produce a great effect there. his characteristic face. and.Chapter 36 480 fear of being disagreeable to the man who had loaded him and his friend with kindness prevented him from mentioning it. and his colossal fortune. and he had no doubt but that. as he was going to the Palli Theatre. Franz was less enthusiastic. but in paying visits and conversing. which had so forcibly struck him at their first meeting. the count seemed to have the power of fascination. Albert was constantly expatiating on their good fortune in meeting such a man. the box at the Argentina Theatre would be lost if they did not profit by it. that is. but even think of him without imagining his stern head upon Manfred's shoulders. The evening passed as evenings mostly pass at Italian theatres. we will not say see him. Truly. The Countess G−−−− wished to revive the subject of the count. And yet he did not wish to be at Paris when the count was there. the only defect. and were told they were all let. or beneath Lara's helmet. but the count exercised over him also the ascendency a strong mind always acquires over a mind less domineering. but the count replied that. The count was no longer young. He thought several times of the project the count had of visiting Paris. alleging their fear of depriving him of it. And. with his eccentric character. and yet it was easy to understand that he was formed to rule the young men with whom he associated at present. The count had learned that the two friends had sent to secure a box at the Argentina Theatre. to complete his resemblance with the fantastic heroes of the English poet. in spite of Albert's demonstrations of false modesty. he had the fiery eyes that seem to penetrate to the very soul. In consequence. but Franz announced he had something far newer to tell her. not in listening to the music. he brought them the key of his own −− at least such was the apparent motive of his visit. Franz had by degrees become accustomed to the count's pallor.

to which all Rome was invited. Franz wore his peasant's costume.Chapter 36 481 preoccupied them for the last three days. The races. The fetes are veritable pleasure days to the Italians. like the moccoli. the theatres open at ten o'clock in the morning. All these evolutions are executed with an inconceivable address and marvellous rapidity. does not recollect to have ever seen a ceremony interrupted by one of those events so common in other countries. all those who through want of money. if we may credit travellers. but congratulated Albert on his success. On Tuesday. On Tuesday. flowers. who crowded amongst the horses' feet and the carriage wheels without a single accident. and nosegays. At three o'clock the sound of fireworks. to meet at the Duke of Bracciano's ball. time. and contribute to the noise and excitement. have not been to see the Carnival before. Albert was triumphant in his harlequin costume. are one of the episodes peculiar to the last days of the Carnival. who has resided five or six years in Italy. A detachment of . The pedestrians ranged themselves against the walls. or enthusiasm. The author of this history. or a single fight. oranges. 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. The heroine of the bouquet kept her word. without the police interfering in the matter. exchanging handfuls of confetti with the other carriages and the pedestrians. made up of a thunder of cries. as Lent begins after eight at night. mingle in the gayety. It was a human storm. and retired by the adjacent streets. then the trampling of horses and the clashing of steel were heard. a single dispute. upon separating. From two o'clock till five Franz and Albert followed in the fete. eggs. At length Tuesday came. As the day advanced. the last and most tumultuous day of the Carnival. 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. the tumult became greater. a single arm that did not move. As similar intrigues are not uncommon in Italy. In order that there might be no confusion. a single tongue that was silent. in the carriages. They promised. and a hail of sweetmeats. There was not on the pavement. A knot of rose−colored ribbons fell from his shoulder almost to the ground. at the windows. the comtess did not manifest the least incredulity.

a second volley of fireworks was discharged. excited by the shouts of three hundred thousand spectators. and which give to each actor in the great final scene of the Carnival two very serious problems to grapple with. which again flow into the parent river. two or three stars began to burn among the crowd. without any other signal. passed by like lightning. galloped up the Corso in order to clear it for the barberi. The sellers of moccoletti entered on the scene. in the midst of a tremendous and general outcry. the Transteverin the . descending from the Palazzo di Venezia to the Piazza del Popolo. and the immense stream again continued its course between its two granite banks. The moccoletto is like life: man has found but one means of transmitting it. the monstrous extinguishers. It seemed like the fete of jack−o'−lanterns. A new source of noise and movement was added to the crowd. down all the streets.Chapter 36 482 carbineers. and mounting from the Piazzo del Popolo to the Palazzo di Venezia. seven or eight horses. Then the Castle of Saint Angelo fired three cannon to indicate that number three had won. The moccoli. Suppose that all the stars had descended from the sky and mingled in a wild dance on the face of the earth. the carriages moved on. at the cry of "Moccoletti!" repeated by the shrill voices of a thousand vendors. The night was rapidly approaching. or moccoletti. and the devil has somewhat aided him. It was a signal. flowing on towards the Corso. and secondly. Almost instantly. and that one comes from God. and already. are candles which vary in size from the pascal taper to the rushlight. like torrents pent up for a while. The facchino follows the prince. −− first. When the detachment arrived at the Piazza di Venezia. But who can describe the thousand means of extinguishing the moccoletto? −− the gigantic bellows. But he has discovered a thousand means of taking it away. At the end of ten minutes fifty thousand lights glittered. It is impossible to form any idea of it without having seen it. to announce that the street was clear. Every one hastened to purchase moccoletti −− Franz and Albert among the rest. Immediately. the superhuman fans. The moccoletto is kindled by approaching it to a light. how to keep his own moccoletto alight. the whole accompanied by cries that were never heard in any other part of the world. fifteen abreast. how to extinguish the moccoletti of others.

the Corso was light as day. It seemed as though Rome. as in this moment. who strove to snatch each other's torches. Chapter 37 The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian. snatched his moccoletto from him without his offering any resistance. Every five minutes Albert took out his watch. but at length he lost sight of them in the Via Macello. This battle of folly and flame continued for two hours. and continued his course towards the church of San Giacomo. the moon. and saw him mount the first step.Chapter 37 483 citizen. but Albert. Two or three masks strove to knock his moccoletto out of his hand. so rapid a transition from gayety to sadness. for he saw Albert disappear arm−in−arm with the peasant girl. relighting. Franz followed Albert with his eyes. sent them rolling in the street. the features of the spectators on the third and fourth stories were visible. but. The two friends were in the Via dei Pontefici. In his whole life. had suddenly changed into a vast tomb. Had old AEolus appeared at this moment. perhaps. nothing hostile passed. No sound was audible save that of the carriages that were carrying the maskers home. under the magic breath of some demon of the night. bearing his moccoletto in his hand. It seemed as though one immense blast of the wind had extinguished every one. Franz had never before experienced so sudden an impression. which added yet more to the intensity of the darkness. and at the same instant all the moccoletti were extinguished as if by enchantment. Instantly a mask. which was on the wane. he would have been proclaimed king of the moccoli. a first−rate pugilist. He watched them pass through the crowd for some time. every one blowing. Franz was too far off to hear what they said. Albert sprang out. without doubt. Suddenly the bell that gives the signal for the end of the carnival sounded. extinguishing. . The steps were crowded with masks. By a chance. at length it pointed to seven. nothing was visible save a few lights that burnt behind the windows. Franz found himself in utter darkness. The Carnival was over. one after the other. wearing the well−known costume of a peasant woman. and Aquilo the heir−presumptive to the throne.

who had been accustomed to see them dine together. the duchess. and went out. The distance was short. The sudden extinction of the moccoletti. Franz resolved to wait for Albert as late as possible. inquired into the cause of his absence. "Then he has not returned?" said the duke. Franz replied that he had left him at the moment they were about to extinguish the moccoli." replied Franz. Franz dressed himself. The house of the Duke of Bracciano is one of the most delightful in Rome. desiring Signor Pastrini to inform him the moment that Albert returned to the hotel. Dinner was waiting. therefore. telling his host that he was going to pass the night at the Duke of Bracciano's. He ordered the carriage. or rather the count's. but as Albert had told him that he should not return so soon." . "And do you know whither he went?" "No. He therefore dined very silently. and their first question on his arrival was to inquire the whereabouts of his travelling companion. Signor Pastrini. for eleven o'clock. and at the end of ten minutes his carriage. however. and the silence which had succeeded the turmoil. and that he had lost sight of him in the Via Macello. who presented himself two or three times to inquire if he wanted anything. I think it was something very like a rendezvous. does its honors with the most consummate grace. one of the last heiresses of the Colonnas. but Franz merely replied that Albert had received on the previous evening an invitation which he had accepted. At eleven o'clock Albert had not come back. "I waited for him until this hour. not precisely. Franz and Albert had brought to Rome letters of introduction to them. the darkness which had replaced the light. and thus their fetes have a European celebrity. and the streets which the young man traversed were plunged in the deepest obscurity. had left in Franz's mind a certain depression which was not free from uneasiness. stopped before the Hotel de Londres. in spite of the officious attention of his host.Chapter 37 484 did not rise until eleven o'clock. Franz sat down without him.

" "Ah. "and then moreover. "and those who are here will complain of but one thing −− its too rapid flight. I meant persons who were out in the streets of Rome." "Is he armed?" "He is in masquerade." "And don't you know where he is?" "Not at all. "who is out in the streets of Rome at this hour. the men run no other danger than that of falling in love with you. and the women of falling ill of jealousy at seeing you so lovely." "I am not speaking. "I think." said Franz. "this is a bad day. countess!" These words were addressed to the Countess G−−−− . on the contrary. whom I left in pursuit of his unknown about seven o'clock this evening." "You should not have allowed him to go. the duke's brother. who know Rome better than he does. who had just arrived.Chapter 37 485 "Diavolo!" said the duke. that it is a charming night." "You might as well have tried to stop number three of the barberi. "you." replied the countess. "and whom I have not seen since. "of the persons who are here. to be out late. and was leaning on the arm of Signor Torlonia. or rather a bad night." replied Franz." asked the countess. unless it be to go to a ball?" "Our friend. Albert de Morcerf. what could happen to him?" . is it not." said the duke with a smile." said the duke to Franz. who gained the prize in the race to−day. countess.

is one of my servants who is seeking you. "I informed them at the hotel that I had the honor of passing the night here." said Franz. and the Tiber is very near the Via Macello.Chapter 37 486 "Who can tell? The night is gloomy." he said. the servant came up to him." said the countess to Franz." "A letter from the viscount!" exclaimed Franz." "And where is the messenger?" "He went away directly he saw me enter the ball−room to find you. when he saw Franz. "here I think." replied the duke. duke. "Yes." 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. ." replied Franz." "Oh." "Why did he not bring it to me here?" "The messenger did not say." "Ah. "the master of the Hotel de Londres has sent to let you know that a man is waiting for you with a letter from the Viscount of Morcerf." "I will hasten." The duke was not mistaken. "and desired them to come and inform me of his return. "Your excellency." "And who is the man?" "I do not know. "go with all speed −− poor young man! Perhaps some accident has happened to him.

"What wants your excellency of me?" inquired the man. which is on one side in the Corso. "Oh. . He had sent away his carriage with orders for it to fetch him at two o'clock. if it is not any serious affair. The man was wrapped up in a large cloak. He had no doubt that it was the messenger from Albert. retreating a step or two." "Your excellency's name" −− "Is the Baron Franz d'Epinay. and on the other in the Square of the Holy Apostles. the stranger first addressed him." "Is there any answer?" inquired Franz. As he came near the hotel. pray be assured of that. fortunately the Palazzo Bracciano. in any event.Chapter 37 487 "Shall we see you again to give us any information?" inquired the countess. is hardly ten minutes' walk from the Hotel de Londres." inquired Franz. "from the Viscount of Morcerf?" "Your excellency lodges at Pastrini's hotel?" "I do." said the countess. He went up to him." "Be prudent. to his extreme astonishment. "Are not you the person who brought me a letter." Franz took his hat and went away in haste." "Then it is to your excellency that this letter is addressed. otherwise I cannot answer as to what I may do myself. taking the letter from him. "Yes. but. as if to keep on his guard. Franz saw a man in the middle of the street." "Your excellency is the travelling companion of the viscount?" "I am.

" he replied. . Light the candles in my apartment. if it be not sufficient. draw from him instantly four thousand piastres." Franz entered the hotel. "You have seen the man who desired to speak with you from your friend?" he asked of Franz. which you will find in the square drawer of the secretary. with a smile." said the messenger." The inn−keeper gave orders to a servant to go before Franz with a light. On the staircase he met Signor Pastrini. add your own to it. It is urgent that I should have this money without delay. It was thus worded: −− My Dear Fellow. "Well?" said the landlord. "And why?" "Your excellency will know when you have read the letter. "Yes. and I will give it to you. The young man had found Signor Pastrini looking very much alarmed.Chapter 37 488 "Yes −− your friend at least hopes so." "Come up−stairs with me. "Well −− what?" responded Franz. Franz read it twice before he could comprehend what it contained. and unfolded it." "I prefer waiting here. and this had only made him the more anxious to read Albert's letter. I have seen him. and give them to the bearer. and so he went instantly towards the waxlight. have the kindness to take the letter of credit from my pocket−book. Run to Torlonia. if you please. It was written and signed by Albert. then?" "Certainly." "Shall I find you here. "and he has handed this letter to me. −− The moment you have received this.

Chapter 37 489 I do not say more. Albert de Morcerf. your excellency. and found the pocket−book in the drawer. "If by six in the morning the four thousand piastres are not in my hands. Thus seven or eight hundred piastres were wanting to them both to make up the sum that Albert required. the street was safer for him. and had only come to Rome to pass seven or eight days. There were in all six thousand piastres. who now understood the objection of the messenger to coming up into the apartment. alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di vivere." This second signature explained everything to Franz. There was no time to lose. and in it the letter of credit. hastily.S. "My dear sir. relying on you as you may rely on me. Franz was about to ring for Signor Pastrini. he might in such a case rely on the kindness of Signor Torlonia. the following in Italian: −− Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono nelle mie mani. P. when that worthy presented himself." . "do you know if the count is within?" "Yes. As to Franz. and of these he had not more than fifty left. in a strange hand. he had brought but a hundred louis. therefore. as he lived at Florence. when suddenly a luminous idea crossed his mind. Albert. He hastened to open the secretary. he had no letter of credit. Your friend. Luigi Vampa. by seven o'clock the Count Albert will have ceased to live. had fallen into the hands of the famous bandit chief." he said. He was. He remembered the Count of Monte Cristo. −− I now believe in Italian banditti. but of these six thousand Albert had already expended three thousand. in whose existence he had for so long a time refused to believe. then. True. he has this moment returned. about to return to the Palazzo Bracciano without loss of time. Below these lines were written.

"Read that. "`Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono nelle mie mani. looking at Franz with the earnestness usual to him. He was in a small room which Franz had not yet seen. The count came towards him. if you please. indeed. and returning. −− "The count awaits your excellency. I have come to speak to you of a very serious matter. and a servant introduced him to the count. he said." "A serious matter. The count read it.Chapter 37 490 "Is he in bed?" "I should say no." "No." he said. "`Luigi Vampa. "and what may it be?" "Are we alone?" "Yes." Signor Pastrini did as he was desired.'" "What think you of that?" inquired Franz. and returning five minutes after. "Well. alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di vivere. "Did you see the postscript?" "I did." "Then ring at his door. and request him to be so kind as to give me an audience." said the count. "Well. Franz gave him Albert's letter. "have you come to sup with me? It would be very kind of you. and which was surrounded with divans. ." replied the count. what good wind blows you hither at this hour?" said he. well!" said he." Franz went along the corridor. going to the door.

"Is it absolutely necessary." The count went to his secretary. −− "I hope you will not offend me by applying to any one but myself. then. opened it." "I think that if you would take the trouble of reflecting." replied Franz. "who told you that?" "No matter. "How so?" returned the count." "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. you could find a way of simplifying the negotiation. I come to you first and instantly. "And I thank you. "And if I went to seek Vampa. I know it." The count knit his brows. on the contrary. well." said the count. have what you will. looking fixedly in his turn at the count. "and he made a sign to Franz to take what he pleased. said to Franz. with surprise. "The postscript is explicit." said Franz." "You see. and remained silent an instant. "If we were to go together to Luigi Vampa. "Judge for yourself. and pulling out a drawer filled with gold. would you accompany me?" .Chapter 37 491 "Have you the money he demands?" "Yes." replied he. to send the money to Luigi Vampa?" asked the young man. all but eight hundred piastres. I am sure he would not refuse you Albert's freedom.

" "I must learn where we are going." "To your apartments. "Ah. in the same tone in which he would have given an order to his servant." . he would not come up. it is you. then. "you have. mounting the steps at a bound." "Shall I take any arms?" "For what purpose?" "Any money?" "It is useless. It is a lovely night. instead of answering. Where is the man who brought the letter?" "In the street. perhaps.Chapter 37 492 "If my society would not be disagreeable." The count went to the window of the apartment that looked on to the street. and covered it with kisses. The man in the mantle quitted the wall." "It is useless. seized the count's hand. for it is a week ago. But Peppino. but rather with alacrity. Peppino. "Salite!" said the count. The messenger obeyed without the least hesitation. but he will not make any difficulty at entering mine. and." "Be it so. five seconds afterwards he was at the door of the room. that is strange." said the count. not forgotten that I saved your life. "Ah. and a walk without Rome will do us both good." "He awaits the answer?" "Yes. I will summon him hither. entered the hotel. threw himself on his knees." said the count. and advanced into the middle of the street. and whistled in a peculiar manner.

" Peppino glanced anxiously at Franz. but it is something that you believe so. "Well. "I am a friend of the count's.Chapter 37 493 "No. "I am ready to answer any questions your excellency may address to me." "Good!" returned Peppino. did the same. disguised as the coachman." returned Peppino. "he is one of my friends. "Oh. the Frenchman took off his mask. and never shall I forget it. The Frenchman threw her a bouquet. then." "The chief's mistress?" "Yes. with an accent of profound gratitude." "You can speak before me. The Frenchman asked for a rendezvous." "What?" cried Franz." "How did the Viscount Albert fall into Luigi's hands?" "Excellency." said he. it was Beppo who was on the steps of the church of San Giacomo. Teresa gave him one −− only. Teresa returned it −− all this with the consent of the chief. with the chief's consent. "was Luigi Vampa in the carriage with the Roman peasants?" "It was he who drove. Teresa. instead of Teresa. You allow me to give you this title?" continued the count in French. "it is necessary to excite this man's confidence. "Well?" said the count. excellency." said Franz. Rise and answer." replied Peppino. you may speak before his excellency." . "Never? That is a long time. who was in the carriage. the Frenchman's carriage passed several times the one in which was Teresa.

Beppo has taken in plenty of others. At the same time. They made him get out. who were waiting for him in the catacombs of St. walk along the banks of the river. and then brought him to Teresa and Luigi. but he could not resist five armed men." "And Beppo led him outside the walls?" said the count." "And." said the count. if you had not found me here. surrounded the carriage. "the peasant girl who snatched his mocoletto from him" −− "Was a lad of fifteen. a carriage was waiting at the end of the Via Macello. that I should think it very amusing. "Exactly so." said the count. inviting the Frenchman to follow him. Sebastian. Beppo got in." "And shall we go and find him?" inquired Franz. and nearly strangled Beppo. turning towards Franz. He gallantly offered the right−hand seat to Beppo. "it might have proved a gallant adventure which would have cost your friend dear. and he did not wait to be asked twice. be assured. and when they were two hundred yards outside." "Well. the coachman pulled up and did the same. his alarm will be the only serious consequence. four of the band. The coachman went up the Via di Ripetta and the Porta San Paola. What do you say to it?" "Why. as the Frenchman became somewhat too forward. but now. "But it was no disgrace to your friend to have been deceived. and was forced to yield. The Frenchman made some resistance. "if it had happened to any one but poor Albert. in truth. ." replied Peppino. Beppo told him he was going to take him to a villa a league from Rome. Beppo put a brace of pistols to his head. who were concealed on the banks of the Almo. and sat by him.Chapter 37 494 "What!" exclaimed Franz. "it seems to me that this is a very likely story. the Frenchman assured him he would follow him to the end of the world." replied Franz.

come along.Chapter 37 495 "Oh. and it would be difficult to contrive a better. and they set off at a rapid pace. but I have often resolved to visit them. but the delay may cause your friend to pass an uneasy night." In a very short time the noise of wheels was heard. Franz and the count got into the carriage." "Well. and a footman appeared." "Always ready?" "Yes. "Order out the carriage. Ali had received his instructions. Ali will drive. here is an opportunity made to your hand. then. Are you still resolved to accompany me?" "More determined than ever. "and remove the pistols which are in the holsters. Ali was on the box. and the carriage stopped at the door. "We might start at five o'clock and be in time. or in the middle of the night. and therefore we had better go with all speed to extricate him from the hands of the infidels. "Half−past twelve." "That is of no consequence." Franz and the count went downstairs. Sebastian?" "I was never in them. accompanied by Peppino. and reached the gates of ." he said. in whom Franz recognized the dumb slave of the grotto of Monte Cristo. and away I go. day and night. went up the Strada San Gregorio. You need not awaken the coachman. I resolve on starting for some particular point. At the door they found the carriage. and I should tell you that sometimes when I rise. The count took out his watch. and went down the Corso." "Well." The count rang. He is in a very picturesque place −− do you know the catacombs of St. sir. crossed the Campo Vaccino. I always have one ready." he said. Peppino placed himself beside Ali. I am a very capricious being. or after my dinner. Have you a carriage?" "No. decidedly.

"In ten minutes. at the distance of a hundred paces." said the count to his companion. Peppino opened the door. the porter had a louis for his trouble. which began to rise. and suddenly retreat into the darkness on a signal from Peppino. "Your excellency. allowing him to leave or enter the city at any hour of the day or night. and they went on their way. Peppino will have warned the sentry of our coming. Sebastian. addressing the count. led them over a declivity to the bottom of a small valley." Franz and the count in their turn then advanced along the same path. and the other a bandit on the lookout. and Peppino went away. Franz imagined that he saw something like a sentinel appear at various points among the ruins. then. the portcullis was therefore raised. A short time before they reached the Baths of Caracalla the carriage stopped. after they got along a few paces the passage widened. and turned to see if ." replied the count. Then the porter raised some difficulties. during which Franz saw the shepherd going along a narrow path that led over the irregular and broken surface of the Campagna. From time to time. "let us follow him. the opening of the catacombs is close at hand. by the light of the moon. taking with him a torch. The road which the carriage now traversed was the ancient Appian Way. "or shall we wait awhile?" "Let us go on. brought with them in the carriage. and the count and Franz alighted. by which a man could scarcely pass. "we shall be there." said Peppino. which seemed like the bristling mane of an enormous lion. "Now." "Go on. They then perceived two men conversing in the obscurity. Peppino passed." He then took Peppino aside. Peppino glided first into this crevice. "Ought we to go on?" asked Franz of the count.Chapter 37 496 St. and bordered with tombs. "if you will follow me. but the Count of Monte Cristo produced a permit from the governor of Rome." One of the two men was Peppino. lighted his torch. They came to an opening behind a clump of bushes and in the midst of a pile of rocks. Franz and the count advanced. which. and the bandit saluted them." said the count. and finally he disappeared in the midst of the tall red herbage. gave him an order in a low voice. Five minutes elapsed.

enlarging as they proceeded. Behind the sentinel was a staircase with twenty steps. placed at the base of a . and Franz and the count were in utter darkness. "Come with me. Franz himself. which served in some manner as a guide. showed that they were at last in the catacombs. the count guiding Franz as if he had the singular faculty of seeing in the dark. like the first. "Exceedingly. The count first reached an open space and Franz followed him closely. which had formerly served as an altar. more evident since Peppino had put out his torch. Three arcades were before them. The passageway sloped in a gentle descent." replied Franz. and found themselves in a mortuary chamber. The count laid his hand on Franz's shoulder. rays of light were visible. was visible along the wall. These arcades opened on one side into the corridor where the count and Franz were. except that fifty paces in advance of them a reddish glare. and. still Franz and the count were compelled to advance in a stooping posture. advancing alone towards the sentry. A lamp. and the middle one was used as a door. and then were stopped by. put out the torch. entirely surrounded by niches similar to those of which we have spoken. Peppino. Down one of the corridors. They went on a hundred and fifty paces in this way. which were arranged one above the other in the shape of coffins. whose extent it was impossible to determine. and on the other into a large square chamber. "A friend!" responded Peppino. saluted the nocturnal visitors. "Would you like to see a camp of bandits in repose?" he inquired. dug into niches. Five corridors diverged like the rays of a star. and the walls. however." Peppino obeyed. as was evident from the cross which still surmounted them. In the midst of this chamber were four stones. "Who comes there?" At the same time they saw the reflection of a torch on a carbine barrel. They advanced silently. and then he.Chapter 37 497 they came after him. Franz and the count descended these. he said a few words to him in a low tone. and were scarcely able to proceed abreast of one another. making a sign that they might proceed. then. saw his way more plainly in proportion as he went on towards the light.

who was walking up and down before a grotto." "It seems that your memory is equally short in everything. it appears to me that you receive a friend with a great deal of ceremony. Vampa. A man was seated with his elbow leaning on the column. and twenty carbines were levelled at the count. he raised his finger to his lips.Chapter 37 498 pillar. each having his carbine within reach. turning to the singular personage who had caused this scene. silent. and was reading with his back turned to the arcades. Vampa rose quickly. "and that not only do you forget people's faces. which went all round the columbarium. At the other end. "Who comes there?" cried the sentinel. but I was so far from expecting the honor of a visit. your excellency. with an imperative sign of the hand. but also the conditions you make with them. and who saw by the lamp−light a shadow approaching his chief. "Well. and advanced towards Vampa. and in groups. were to be seen twenty brigands or more. and no muscle of his countenance disturbed. When the count thought Franz had gazed sufficiently on this picturesque tableau. "Your pardon. "well. At this challenge." said he in a voice perfectly calm. who was less abstracted." said the count. my dear Vampa. lying in their mantles. Luigi Vampa. and like a shadow. who was so intent on the book before him that he did not hear the noise of his footsteps. he said. entered the chamber by the middle arcade. was a sentinel. This was the chief of the band." "Ground arms. scarcely visible. according to their fancy. through the openings of which the newcomers contemplated him." . ascending the three steps which led to the corridor of the columbarium. then." exclaimed the chief. that I did not really recognize you. In a moment all the bandits were on their feet. which was only distinguishable because in that spot the darkness seemed more dense than elsewhere. and. 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. to warn him to be silent. or with their backs against a sort of stone bench. Around him. while with the other he took off his hat respectfully. drawing at the same moment a pistol from his girdle.

"I told you there was some mistake in this. "Welcome among us. turning towards his men. your excellency?" "You have this evening carried off and conveyed hither the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. in a tone that made Franz shudder. "I am with the person to whom this letter was addressed. with the air of a man who. but also that of my friends. "you heard . and conveyed him hither. "here is Luigi Vampa. should be respected by you?" "And how have I broken that treaty. I would blow his brains out with my own hand!" "Well. taking the letter from his pocket. your excellency. "that not only my person." "Are you not alone?" asked Vampa with uneasiness. "you have set a ransom on him. having committed an error." asked the count. "this young gentleman is one of my friends −− this young gentleman lodges in the same hotel as myself −− this young gentleman has been up and down the Corso for eight hours in my private carriage. turning towards Franz." "Why did you not tell me all this −− you?" inquired the brigand chief. I repeat to you. who will himself express to you his deep regret at the mistake he has committed. who all retreated before his look. who has all our lives in his hands? By heavens. the chief advancing several steps to meet him." added the count. if I thought one of you knew that the young gentleman was the friend of his excellency." continued the count. is anxious to repair it." he said to him.Chapter 37 499 "What conditions have I forgotten. and yet. and. "Why have you caused me thus to fail in my word towards a gentleman like the count. as if he were an utter stranger. Come. your excellency?" inquired the bandit." the count added." said the count." Franz approached. your excellency. and to whom I desired to prove that Luigi Vampa was a man of his word. "Was it not agreed. Well. turning to Franz. you have carried him off.

smiling with his own peculiar smile. "Come. and opened his eyes. Then. "Ma foi. "Oh. and also my reply." "Nothing has happened to him. he touched him on the shoulder." he said. and Franz and the count followed him. "where is the Viscount? −− I do not see him." The chief went towards the place he had pointed out as Albert's prison. "What is the prisoner doing?" inquired Vampa of the sentinel." said the count frowningly. who drew back a bolt and opened a door." said the count. similar to that which lighted the columbarium. "I do not know. I was dancing the galop at Torlonia's with the Countess G−−−− . that this had happened. by the gleam of a lamp. "You are right." said Franz. "and I will go myself and tell him he is free." Vampa looked at Albert with a kind of admiration. pointing to the hollow space in front of which the bandit was on guard. I had such a delightful dream. let me add that I would not for the four thousand piastres at which I had fixed your friend's ransom. that he might see how time sped. captain. for the last hour I have not heard him stir." said he. "The prisoner is there. rubbed his eyelids. I hope." "Come in. Albert was to be seen wrapped up in a cloak which one of the bandits had lent him." Then going to Albert. "not so bad for a man who is to be shot at seven o'clock to−morrow morning. your excellency. "Will your excellency please to awaken?" Albert stretched out his arms." Then he drew his watch from his pocket. "is it you." replied the sentry. saying. captain? You should have allowed me to sleep." said Vampa." replied Vampa.Chapter 37 500 what the count just said. your excellency. looking round him uneasily. . he was not insensible to such a proof of courage. The count and Franz ascended seven or eight steps after the chief." "But. "this must be one of your friends. lying in a corner in profound slumber.

and yet here was one whose gay temperament was not for a moment altered. and in the next for this visit. the Count of Monte Cristo.Chapter 37 501 "Half−past one only?" said he. who shuddered as he gave his own." replied Albert. in the first place for the carriage. we shall yet have time . my dear Franz. "you are really most kind. The bandit gazed on this scene with amazement. he was evidently accustomed to see his prisoners tremble before him." Albert looked around and perceived Franz. as for Franz. then. I should have finished my galop. for the future. Napoleon's maxim. but who nevertheless did give it." "My dear fellow. your excellency. with perfect ease of mind. my dear count." said he. "remember." said Albert gayly. `Never awaken me but for bad news. arranging his cravat and wristbands. whose devotion and friendship are thus displayed?" "No. "if you will make haste." "Well. "is it you. "My dear Albert." replied Franz. they have paid my ransom?" "No." "Really? Then that person is a most amiable person. not I. and have been grateful to you all my life." he said. your excellency. hither. 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. "What. and I hope you will consider me as under eternal obligations to you. "but our neighbor. So. how am I free?" "A person to whom I can refuse nothing has come to demand you." "Oh. then.' if you had let me sleep on. "Why the devil do you rouse me at this hour?" "To tell you that you are free." "Come hither?" "Yes.

Signor Luigi. "perhaps the offer may not appear very tempting to you. then. You may conclude your interrupted galop. "Peppino. descended the staircase.Chapter 37 502 to finish the night at Torlonia's." And taking the lighted torch from the hands of the herdsman. come. crossed the square chamber. wherever I may be. "Has your excellency anything to ask me?" said Vampa with a smile. "besides. "you are as free as air. then Albert. The count went out first. not as a servant who performs an act of civility. you compensate for your mistakes in so gentlemanly a way." "Gentlemen. turning towards the young men. where stood all the bandits. but if you should ever feel inclined to pay me a second visit. Come." continued Albert." "What are you going to do?" inquired the count. your excellency. indeed. you shall be welcome. and we may reach the Palazzo by two o'clock. . but like a king who precedes ambassadors." "You are decidedly right. "And now. sir." said the captain. followed by Franz and the count." added the chief. throughout this whole affair acted like a gentleman." "No. so that you will owe no ill−will to Signor Luigi. and I hope you will not entertain any resentment at what has occurred. "is there any formality to fulfil before I take leave of your excellency?" "None. who has. Franz paused for a moment. he preceded his guests. that one almost feels obliged to you for having committed them." replied the count. gentlemen. a happy and merry life to you." "Well. "I will show you the way back myself. "give me the torch." said the brigand chief. hat in hand." replied the bandit." And Albert. "that is the least honor that I can render to your excellency. On reaching the door." Franz and Albert bowed." added he. he bowed. "allow me to repeat my apologies. my dear Vampa.

It was just two o'clock by Albert's watch when the two friends entered into the dancing−room. Their return was quite an event. "let us on with all the speed we may. contained a request that Franz would accompany him on a visit to the count. are you coming?" asked Albert. and he will assure you the delay arose from no fault of mine. "it is my favorite work. and the horses went on at great speed. turning round. the young man had warmly and energetically thanked the count . all uneasiness on Albert's account ceased instantly. The first words that Albert uttered to his friend. on the following morning." said Albert. I am enormously anxious to finish my night at the Duke of Bracciano's. "I am curious to know what work you were perusing with so much attention as we entered. captain?" And he lighted his cigar at Vampa's torch." said the Viscount of Morcerf. Albert put his arm round the waist of the countess. my dear count." They found the carriage where they had left it. 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. your pardon." replied Franz. "Ah. "Yes. advancing towards the countess. "will you allow me. The count said a word in Arabic to Ali." "Well. "Madame. I have. "here I am." replied Franz. They advanced to the plain." "Caesar's `Commentaries. true. but here is my friend. and disappeared with her in the whirl of dancers. in his turn.Chapter 38 503 "Yes. forced to give his hand to Albert. but as they entered together. I am rather late in claiming this gracious promise. "Now." And as at this moment the orchestra gave the signal for the waltz. in some sort. Chapter 38 The Compact. left the caves. whose character for veracity you well know. "yesterday you were so condescending as to promise me a galop." and he." he said.'" said the bandit.

" "Monsieur de Morcerf. "I deserve no credit for what I could not help. namely." "Upon my word. and. I can in any way serve you? My father. "permit me to repeat the poor thanks I offered last night. Franz.000 francs. but at once accompanied him to the desired spot." replied the count. although of Spanish origin. who seemed attracted by some invisible influence towards the count. −− but you must really permit me to congratulate you on the ease and unconcern with which you resigned yourself to your fate. "your offer. All that. and I accept it in the same spirit . so that there is not much of a score between us. at your disposal. and I now come to ask you whether. "My dear count. 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. and the perfect indifference you manifested as to the turn events might take. has nothing to do with my obligations to you. or connections. believe me.Chapter 38 504 on the previous evening." "My very good friend and excellent neighbor. however. both at the court of France and Madrid. as long as I live. and all to whom my life is dear. and also to remember that to you I am indebted even for my life. the count joined them in the salon. and to assure you that the remembrance of all I owe to you will never be effaced from my memory. is precisely what I expected from you. far from surprising me. that although men get into troublesome scrapes all over the world. after a short delay. but services such as he had rendered could never be too often acknowledged." said Albert." said Albert. with a smile. You owe me nothing but some trifle of 20. my family. and I unhesitatingly place the best services of myself. there is no nation but the French that can smile even in the face of grim Death himself. in which terror was strangely mingled. I shall never cease to dwell with grateful recollection on the prompt and important service you rendered me. the Comte de Morcerf. possesses considerable influence. a determination to take everything as I found it. in my own person." replied the count. and therefore made no objection to Albert's request. which you have been saved out of your travelling expenses. and to let those bandits see. advancing to meet him. "you really exaggerate my trifling exertions.

as a millionaire. I agree with you in thinking that my present ignorance of the first city in Europe is a reproach to me in every way. and. but. but as regards myself. my dear M. Your offer. I will go still further. so necessary a duty. I can find no merit I possess. and I have only to ask you. Rothschild. was compelled to abandon the idea." "So distinguished an individual as yourself. upon my arrival in France. save that. and calls for immediate correction. to open to me the doors of that fashionable world of which I know no more than a Huron or a native of Cochin−China?" . still. it is quite true." "Is it possible." "Oh. "whether you undertake. de Morcerf" (these words were accompanied by a most peculiar smile). and say that I had previously made up my mind to ask a great favor at your hands. as that of making myself acquainted with the wonders and beauties of your justly celebrated capital. however. −− nay. smooths all difficulties.Chapter 38 505 of hearty sincerity with which it is made." "Nevertheless. "could scarcely have required an introduction. pray name it. Aguado and M. in all probability. had I known any person who would have introduced me into the fashionable world. I should have performed so important. but unfortunately I possessed no acquaintance there." cried Albert. I stayed away till some favorable chance should present itself of carrying my wish into execution. but as my motive in travelling to your capital would not have been for the pleasure of dabbling in stocks. I might have become a partner in the speculations of M." "You are most kind. of necessity." exclaimed Albert. "that you have reached your present age without visiting the finest capital in the world? I can scarcely credit it." "I am wholly a stranger to Paris −− it is a city I have never yet seen.

"it comes to the same thing in the end. you mean. laughingly. I can only say that you may command me and mine to any extent you please. like a house built on the sand. "and I give you my solemn assurance that I only waited an opportunity like the present to realize plans that I have long meditated. is liable to be blown over by the first puff of wind?" "I pledge you my honor." answered Albert. delighted at the idea of having to chaperon so distinguished a person as Monte Cristo. both inclination and positive necessity compel me to visit Paris. hoping to read something of his purpose in his face. "tell me truly whether you are in earnest. never mind how it is. but which." returned the count. in consequence of a treaty of marriage (my dear Franz. count. my dear count. as in the present case." answered Albert. "Well. it was veiled in a sphinx−like smile. but his countenance was inscrutable especially when. I beg of you) with a family of high standing. and with infinite pleasure." "Connected by marriage. and connected with the very cream of Parisian society. "But tell me now. I shall be quite a sober. that I do. Perhaps by the time you return to Paris.Chapter 38 506 "Oh." said the count. "and so much the more readily as a letter received this morning from my father summons me to Paris." "When do you propose going thither?" "Have you made up your mind when you shall be there yourself?" . do not smile. and while the Count was speaking the young man watched him closely." exclaimed Albert. "that I mean to do as I have said." "Then it is settled." 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. 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. 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.

" replied the count. you see I make an ample allowance for all delays and difficulties. Rue du Helder. and expect me the 21st of May at the same hour in the forenoon. added. "And in three months' time. then." "Capital." "Have you bachelor's apartments there? I hope my coming will not put you to any inconvenience. as fast as I can get there!" "Nay." "Where do you live?" "No. that is to say." replied the count.Chapter 38 507 "Certainly I have. "I will give you three months ere I join you. taking out his tablets." and drawing out his watch. "your breakfast shall be waiting. but occupy a pavilion at the farther side of the court−yard. as. 27." "So be it. half−past ten in the morning." . he said. hour for hour. 21st May. "only let me warn you that I am proverbial for my punctilious exactitude in keeping my engagements. 27." said Albert. Now promise me to remember this." said Albert. "to−day is the 21st of February. he wrote down "No." exclaimed Albert." "I reside in my father's house. suspended near the chimney−piece. "that will suit me to a dot. Rue du Helder." "Quite sufficient." "Day for day. "you will be at my house?" "Shall we make a positive appointment for a particular day and hour?" inquired the count. in a fortnight or three weeks' time. entirely separated from the main building. "it is exactly half−past ten o'clock. and extending his hand towards a calendar." said the Count.

I shall remain in Italy for another year or two. holding out a hand to each of the young men. No. ." said Albert. 27.Chapter 38 508 "Now then. for it felt cold and icy as that of a corpse. The young men then rose. "make yourself perfectly easy. "do you also depart to−morrow?" "Yes." It was the first time the hand of Franz had come in contact with that of the mysterious individual before him." "In that case I must say adieu to you. as I am compelled to go to Naples. baron. "it is agreed −− is it not? −− that you are to be at No." "Then we shall not meet in Paris?" "I fear I shall not have that honor." said the count." "Well. and your word of honor passed for your punctuality?" "The 21st of May. at five o'clock. addressing Franz." replied the Count. "Let us understand each other. when do you leave?" "To−morrow evening. on the 21st of May. "allow me to wish you both a safe and pleasant journey. since we must part. and shall not return hither before Saturday evening or Sunday morning. returning his tablets to his pocket. at half−past ten in the morning. for Venice. Rue du Helder." "For France?" "No. and unconsciously he shuddered at its touch." "Shall I see you again ere my departure?" asked Albert. And you. at half−past ten in the morning. in the Rue du Helder. "That depends. the hand of your time−piece will not be more accurate in marking the time than myself. and bowing to the count." said the count." pursued the count. 27.

on the other hand. Albert. Franz." . you must have lost your senses. for I have noticed how cold you are in your bearing towards the count." "Listen to me. "What is the matter?" asked Albert of Franz." said Albert. "you seem more than commonly thoughtful." "And where?" "Will you promise me not to repeat a single word of what I am about to tell you?" "I promise. Have you anything particular against him?" "Possibly." replied Franz." "Did you ever meet him previously to coming hither?" "I have." "I will confess to you. "the count is a very singular person." "Upon your honor?" "Upon my honor. "what can there possibly be in that to excite uneasiness? Why." "Whether I am in my senses or not." exclaimed Albert." "My dear fellow." answered Franz. while he.Chapter 38 509 quitted the room. when they had returned to their own apartments. has always been courtesy itself to us. and the appointment you have made to meet him in Paris fills me with a thousand apprehensions. "I am glad that the occasion has presented itself for saying this to you. "that is the way I feel.

and taken its name. Go but to Portsmouth or Southampton. with circumstantial exactitude. and the two Corsican bandits with them. Albert listened with the most profound attention. Now. Monte Cristo has furnished for himself a temporary abode where you first found him. at his awakening. between the count and Vampa. and the magnificence of his entertainment in the grotto of the "Thousand and One Nights. 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. −− an engagement which. while you have manfully resisted its effects for as many years. all the particulars of the supper. and finally of his application to the count and the picturesque and satisfactory result that followed. Just ask yourself. being rich. and. "what do you find to object to in all you have related? The count is fond of travelling. 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?" . by way of having a resting−place during his excursions." said he. possesses a vessel of his own. and how. but." 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. and thereby depriving him of the advantages naturally expected from so large an outlay of capital. At last he arrived at the adventure of the preceding night. there remained no proof or trace of all these events. when Franz had concluded.Chapter 38 510 "Then listen to me. Then he detailed the conversation overheard by him at the Colosseum." He recounted. "Well. and have the same liking for this amusement. in which the count had promised to obtain the release of the bandit Peppino. the statues. seen in the distant horizon driving under full sail toward Porto−Vecchio. to prevent the possibility of the Tuscan government taking a fancy to his enchanted palace. He dwelt with considerable force and energy on the almost magical hospitality he had received from the count. he has wisely enough purchased the island. the dream. my good fellow. he most faithfully fulfilled. the hashish. −− and obtaining a bed on which it is possible to slumber. save the small yacht. as our readers are aware. avoiding the wretched cookery −− which has been trying its best to poison me during the last four months. and you will find the harbors crowded with the yachts belonging to such of the English as can afford the expense.

if I could only manage to find them.Chapter 38 511 "But. which. what is his native tongue. driven by some sinister motive from their native town or village. they are a race of men I admire greatly. on my conscience. for my own idea was that it never was in much danger." said Franz." "Still. therefore. 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." . Nobody knows better than yourself that the bandits of Corsica are not rogues or thieves. not altogether for preserving my life. should be to the bandits of Colomba. for my own part. proving most indisputably. I should never have been estimated in France." "Talking of countries. instead of condemning him for his intimacy with outlaws.000 livres of our money −− a sum at which. I protest that." replied Franz. "the Corsican bandits that were among the crew of his vessel?" "Why. as in all probability I own my present safety to that influence. my first visit. it would ill become me to search too closely into its source." persisted Franz. in your place. "of what country is the count. who have no other motive than plunder when they seize your person. whence does he derive his immense fortune. "that no prophet is honored in his own country. ere even I presented myself to the mayor or prefect." added Albert with a laugh. should I ever go to Corsica. I should like to have answered. "I suppose you will allow that such men as Vampa and his band are regular villains. and that their fellowship involves no disgrace or stigma. being translated. really the thing seems to me simple enough. for. means neither more nor less than 24.000 piastres. you must give me leave to excuse any little irregularity there may be in such a connection. How do you explain the influence the count evidently possessed over those ruffians?" "My good friend. most assuredly. but certainly for saving me 4. but purely and simply fugitives.

shall we take our luncheon." answered the other. contrary to the usual state of affairs in discussions between the young men. I can assure you. upon receipt of my letter.Chapter 38 512 "My dear Franz." And this time it must be confessed that. when. my dear Franz. you must have lost your senses to think it possible I could act with such cold−blooded policy. then. Still. you promptly went to him. you found the necessity of asking the count's assistance. I will readily give him the one and promise the other. in spite of all my outward appearance of ease and unconcern. `Who is M. where. as you are aware. `My friend Albert de Morcerf is in danger. you must admit that this Count of Monte Cristo is a most singular personage. I did not very particularly care to remain. saying. If my vote and interest can obtain it for him. for your arguments are beyond my powers of refutation. given. Come. Franz. the effective arguments were all on Albert's side." replied Albert. And now. then. for services so promptly and unhesitatingly rendered. he merely came and freed me from the hands of Signor Vampa. Now." said Franz with a sigh. "do as you please my dear viscount." "No." "Well. . did he put all these questions to you?" "I confess he asked me none. he but asks me in return to do for him what is done daily for any Russian prince or Italian nobleman who may pass through Paris −− merely to introduce him into society −− would you have me refuse? My good fellow. "when. "and no doubt his motive in visiting Paris is to compete for the Monthyon prize. help me to deliver him. to whoever shall be proved to have most materially advanced the interests of virtue and humanity. "Well." "He is a philanthropist. 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.' Was not that nearly what you said?" "It was. let us talk of something else. in spite of all. did he ask you.

half−past ten A. and who lives as it were in a gilded cage." Chapter 39 The Guests. A high wall surrounded the whole of the hotel. But. surmounted at intervals by vases filled with flowers. however. By means of the two . There were not lacking. was the large and fashionable dwelling of the Count and Countess of Morcerf. evidences of what we may call the intelligent egoism of a youth who is charmed with the indolent. A small door. ere he entered his travelling carriage. Albert. Two windows only of the pavilion faced the street. fearing that his expected guest might forget the engagement he had entered into.Chapter 39 513 and then pay a last visit to St. the young men parted. close to the lodge of the concierge. Albert de Morcerf to return to Paris. It was easy to discover that the delicate care of a mother. careless life of an only son. and two at the back into the garden. where Albert had invited the Count of Monte Cristo. placed in the care of a waiter at the hotel a card to be delivered to the Count of Monte Cristo. on which. on the 21st May. everything was being prepared on the morning of the 21st of May to do honor to the occasion. beneath the name of Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. and yet aware that a young man of the viscount's age required the full exercise of his liberty. and Franz d'Epinay to pass a fortnight at Venice. Peter's?" Franz silently assented. in which were the servants' apartments. and directly opposite another building. which served as the carriage entrance. he had written in pencil −− "27. gave ingress and egress to the servants and masters when they were on foot.M. Between the court and the garden. Albert de Morcerf inhabited a pavilion situated at the corner of a large court. Rue du Helder. had chosen this habitation for Albert. and broken in the centre by a large gate of gilded iron. built in the heavy style of the imperial architecture. and the following afternoon. In the house in the Rue du Helder. three other windows looked into the court. at half−past five o'clock. unwilling to part from her son.

Above this floor was a large atelier. and hid from the garden and court these two apartments. the only rooms into which.. and Charles Leboucher. The salon down−stairs was only an Algerian divan. as they were on the ground−floor. the sight of what is going on is necessary to young men. should anything appear to merit a more minute examination." opening at the "Sesame" of Ali Baba. the prying eyes of the curious could penetrate. bass−viols. looking into the court. and which merits a particular description. Then. and. broadswords. in which the artist and the dandy strove for preeminence. On the floor above were similar rooms. and which formed the ante−chamber. and it was here that he received Grisier. At the end of a long corridor. Albert de Morcerf could follow up his researches by means of a small gate. which had been increased in size by pulling down the partitions −− a pandemonium. from whose vigilance and jurisdiction it was free. for the use of smokers. i. Albert de Morcerf cultivated. pencils −− for music had been succeeded by painting. hunting−horns. similar to that close to the concierge's door. fencing. and single−stick. like that famous portal in the "Arabian Nights. and a bedroom. The rest of the furniture of this . on the right. with far more perseverance than music and drawing. There were collected and piled up all Albert's successive caprices. formed out of the ante−chamber. it was evident that every precaution had been taken. so entirely was it covered with dust and dirt.Chapter 39 514 windows looking into the street. foils. palettes. these three rooms were a salon. flutes −− a whole orchestra. was.e. Shrubs and creeping plants covered the windows. but the well−oiled hinges and locks told quite another story. with the addition of a third. brushes. Albert's breakfast−room. a boudoir. boxing−gloves. the three arts that complete a dandy's education. looking into the garden. Cook. for Albert had had not a taste but a fancy for music. 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. This door was a mockery to the concierge. who always want to see the world traverse their horizon. Albert could see all that passed. easels. boxing. even if that horizon is only a public thoroughfare. and on the left the salon. The boudoir up−stairs communicated with the bed−chamber by an invisible door on the staircase. following the example of the fashionable young men of the time. It was a little entrance that seemed never to have been opened since the house was built. and single−sticks −− for. with which the door communicated.

and. Haydn. every species of tobacco known. battle−axes. or Richelieu −− for two of these arm−chairs. Over these dark and sombre chairs were thrown splendid stuffs. Lucca della Robbia faience. and manillas. according to their size and quality. filled with Chinese porcelain and Japanese vases. after coffee. and ascends in long and fanciful wreaths to the ceiling. gilded. Mozart. it was impossible to say. they awaited. their flame−colored wings outspread in motionless flight. In the centre of the room was a Roller and Blanchet "baby grand" piano in rosewood. damasked. At a quarter to ten. This was Albert's favorite lounging place. There. a destination unknown to their owner himself. the morning of the appointment. on the ceiling. a . and groaning beneath the weight of the chefs−d'oeuvre of Beethoven. in boxes of fragrant wood. minerals. However. or woven by the fingers of the women of Calcutta or of Chandernagor. and so on along the scale from Maryland and Porto−Rico. dried plants. Malay creeses. maces. which. What these stuffs did there. a collection of German pipes. or. Gretry. and of narghiles. at least. some royal residence. awaiting the caprice or the sympathy of the smokers. adorned with a carved shield. were ranged. Weber. the guests at a breakfast of modern days love to contemplate through the vapor that escapes from their mouths. in the meantime they filled the place with their golden and silky reflections. to Latakia. and Palissy platters. of chibouques. while gratifying the eyes. but holding the potentialities of an orchestra in its narrow and sonorous cavity. and Porpora. on a table. over the doors. in which perhaps had sat Henry IV. and inlaid suits of armor. the young man had established himself in the small salon down−stairs. regalias. beside them. Louis XIII. in an open cabinet. with their long tubes of morocco. surrounded at some distance by a large and luxurious divan. were swords. havanas. On the walls. and their beaks forever open. or. or Sully. Albert had himself presided at the arrangement. the symmetrical derangement. and stuffed birds. daggers. rather. of old arm−chairs. dyed beneath Persia's sun. on which were engraved the fleur−de−lis of France on an azure field evidently came from the Louvre. pueros. −− was exposed in pots of crackled earthenware of which the Dutch are so fond.Chapter 39 515 privileged apartment consisted of old cabinets. −− from the yellow tobacco of Petersburg to the black of Sinai. with their amber mouth−pieces ornamented with coral.

held in one hand a number of papers. and in the other a packet of letters. he composed. at half past ten. Is the countess up yet?" "If you wish. and who enjoyed the entire confidence of his young master.Chapter 39 516 valet entered. tore off the cover of two or three of the papers. sherry. be obliged to go to the minister −− and besides" (Albert looked at his tablets). at half past ten. "it is the hour I told the count. made a face seeing they gave . Albert glanced carelessly at the different missives." "Yes. and Malaga. "How did these letters come?" said he. Madame Danglars' footman left the other. although the cook of the hotel was always at his service." "Let Madame Danglars know that I accept the place she offers me in her box. mine is incomplete. during the day. and a barrel of Ostend oysters. sir. and who only spoke English. get them at Borel's. 21st May. "One by the post. Debray will. which he gave to Albert. and that I request permission to introduce some one to her." "At what o'clock. with a little groom named John. ask her for one of her liqueur cellarets. Wait. and enclosed in scented envelopes." The valet left the room. all Albert's establishment. then." "Very well. selected two written in a small and delicate hand. Take her six bottles of different wine −− Cyprus. do you breakfast?" "What time is it now?" "A quarter to ten. tell Rosa that when I leave the Opera I will sup with her as she wishes. and tell her I shall have the honor of seeing her about three o'clock. and be sure you say they are for me. I will inquire. I wish to be punctual. perhaps. and on great occasions the count's chasseur also. and though I do not much rely upon his promise. Albert threw himself on the divan. whose name was Germain. looked at the theatre announcements. opened them and perused their contents with some attention. This valet.

do not confound our plans. he has not much to complain of. Bourges is the capital of Charles VII. a white neckcloth. clear gray eyes. by an effort of the superciliary and zygomatic muscles. for I see you have a blue ribbon at your button−hole. "reassure yourself. Do you not know that all Paris knew it yesterday. true. "These papers become more and more stupid every day." A moment after. Lucien Debray." ." "Ah. one after the other. and thin and compressed lips. and I begin to believe that we shall pass into a state of immobility. and which. "your punctuality really alarms me. and then the affairs of the Peninsula will completely consolidate us. What do I say? punctuality! You. hunted vainly amongst the advertisements for a new tooth−powder of which he had heard. and M. but we never fall." "At Bourges?" "Yes. the three leading papers of Paris. "Good−morning. when the time fixed was half−past! Has the ministry resigned?" "No. and offer him hospitality at Bourges.Chapter 39 517 an opera. and a tortoiseshell eye−glass suspended by a silken thread. and the day before it had already transpired on the Bourse. We take him to the other side of the French frontier. seating himself on the divan. you arrive at five minutes to ten. Danglars (I do not know by what means that man contrives to obtain intelligence as soon as we do) made a million!" "And you another order. whom I expected last. muttering. no. with light hair. my dear fellow." "No. without smiling or speaking. he fixed in his eye. my dear fellow. and not a ballet. with a half−official air. good−morning. A tall young man. a carriage stopped before the door. Lucien." said Albert." returned the young man. you drive Don Carlos out of Spain. entered. and threw down. and the servant announced M. dressed in a blue coat with beautifully carved gold buttons. we are tottering always.

a glass of sherry and a biscuit. that does not concern the home but the financial department. I am bored. At the Bois de Boulogne. Address yourself to M. No. ringing the bell. and persuade the minister to sell us such instead of poisoning us with cabbage leaves." returned Debray. but confess you were pleased to have it. It looks very neat on a black coat buttoned up. the moment they come from government you would find them execrable. with his gold−mounted cane." "Oh. Humann." "It is my duty as your host." returned Albert. "you astonish me by the extent of your knowledge." "On my word. and who are yet leagued against me. of course −− try them. the papers that lay on the table. and strove to sleep...Chapter 39 518 "Yes. and you wish to announce the good news to me?" "No. "Germain. here are cigars −− contraband." . a sort of Carlo−republican alliance. Take a cigar.. ennui and hunger attacked me at once. I returned home at daybreak. it is very well as a finish to the toilet. I will do nothing of the kind. I then recollected you gave a breakfast this morning. −− two enemies who rarely accompany each other." "It is for that reason you see me so early. "Come." "Because you have the order of Charles III. section of the indirect contributions. carelessly. they sent me the order of Charles III. I am hungry. but my head ached and I got up to have a ride for an hour." "Peste. because I passed the night writing letters." said Albert. do not affect indifference. amuse me. In the meantime. and here I am." "And makes you resemble the Prince of Wales or the Duke of Reichstadt. feed me. while Lucien turned over. my dear Lucien. corridor A. 26. Besides. −− five and twenty despatches.

besides your place. queens. parties to unite. I will amuse you. my dear diplomatist. perhaps. 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. a tailor who never disappoints you. can you not amuse yourself? Well. a horse." "Oh. You do not know your own good fortune!" "And what would you do. my dear Albert. having kings. better still. plunged at once into European cabals and Parisian intrigues. no. and other diversions." replied Morcerf. with a slight degree of irony in his voice.Chapter 39 519 "Really. our breakfast comes from my father's kitchen. possessing five and twenty thousand francs a year." "I know so many men already. and. Are you hungry?" . "if you did nothing? What? private secretary to a minister." "A man or a woman?" "A man. with the opera. lighting a manilla at a rose−colored taper that burnt in a beautifully enamelled stand −− "how happy you are to have nothing to do. and which you would not part with." "The deuce! I hope he does not bring our breakfast with him." "How?" "By introducing to you a new acquaintance. elections to direct." "But you do not know this man." "Where does he come from −− the end of the world?" "Farther still. the jockey−club. to protect. for which Chateau−Renaud offered you four hundred louis." replied Lucien.

Your Spanish wine is excellent." "Well. take another glass of sherry and another biscuit. did you ever remark that?" "Ah. and that will pass away the time. you ministers give such splendid ones. but Don Carlos?" "Well. I assure you. you must allow it is the best thing for the stomach." "My dear friend. You would think they felt some remorse. but we do not invite people of fashion. I am. depreciate other persons' dinners. Albert.Chapter 39 520 "Humiliating as such a confession is." "You will then obtain the Golden Fleece. we should never dream of dining at home. de Villefort's. Don Carlos will drink Bordeaux." "I think." said Lucien with an air of sovereign contempt. But I dined at M. "do I ever read the papers?" . but I hear Beauchamp in the next room. you can dispute together." "Well. and lawyers always give you very bad dinners." "Willingly. if you are still in the ministry. you have adopted the system of feeding me on smoke this morning." "About what?" "About the papers." "Yes. If we were not forced to entertain a parcel of country boobies because they think and vote with us. You see we were quite right to pacify that country." "Yes. and in ten years we will marry his son to the little queen.

Chapter 39


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

Chapter 40


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