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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

" continued M." . M. you are strongly suspected of regretting the abdication of Napoleon. but that whoever possessed the good opinion and confidence of the ship's owner would have his preference also.Chapter 5 65 "Certainly not!" returned Danglars. "here is the Pharaon without a captain. who served under the other government. for somehow I have perceived a sort of coolness between you. Then added in a low whisper. there are many things he ought most carefully to conceal from all else. and I had already thought of your interests in the event of poor Edmond having become captain of the Pharaon. I am too well aware that though a subordinate." "But meanwhile. Morrel. I had previously inquired of Dantes what was his opinion of you." "The hypocrite!" murmured Danglars. I should have feared to injure both Edmond and yourself. Policar Morrel." "Is it possible you were so kind?" "Yes." "'Tis well. Danglars −− 'tis well!" replied M. and if he should have any reluctance to continue you in your post. indeed. and who does not altogether conceal what he thinks on the subject. Morrel. "No one can deny his being a noble−hearted young fellow. had I divulged my own apprehensions to a soul. like myself. "You understand that. "Poor Dantes!" said Caderousse. is bound to acquaint the shipowner with everything that occurs. "You are a worthy fellow. on account of your uncle." "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.

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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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.Chapter 17 210 beneath the gallery where the sentry kept watch. the only tools for which had been a chisel. once there. easily acquired. 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. sometimes in one language. a knife. sometimes in another. and the excavation completed . Faria still continuing to instruct Dantes by conversing with him. They had learned to distinguish the almost imperceptible sound of his footsteps as he descended towards their dungeons. thanks to the imitative powers bestowed on him by nature. That very day the miners began their labors. and had. never failed of being prepared for his coming. as well as that outward polish and politeness he had before been wanting in. mixed in the first society of the day. by degrees and with the utmost precaution. and a wooden lever. The prisoners were then to make their way through one of the gallery windows. would be immediately bound and gagged by Dantes before he had power to offer any resistance. and to let themselves down from the outer walls by means of the abbe's ladder of cords. a large excavation would be made. and happily. out of the window in either Faria's or Dantes' cell. More than a year had been consumed in this undertaking. At the end of fifteen months the level was finished. and which would have entirely blocked up the old passage. the rubbish being first pulverized so finely that the night wind carried it far away without permitting the smallest trace to remain. and which is seldom possessed except by those who have been placed in constant intercourse with persons of high birth and breeding. he wore an air of melancholy dignity which Dantes. moreover. stunned by his fall. Dantes' eyes sparkled with joy. yet apparently so certain to succeed. with a vigor and alacrity proportionate to their long rest from fatigue and their hopes of ultimate success. and he rubbed his hands with delight at the idea of a plan so simple. 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. The abbe was a man of the world. The fresh earth excavated during their present work. was thrown. at others. who.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

bets were offered to any amount that she was bound for Spain. 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. and. and ere nightfall the whole of his immense wealth was safely deposited in the compartments of the secret locker. The boat. A week passed by. The island was utterly deserted.Chapter 25 282 Spanish nobleman who preferred managing his own yacht. Dantes had carefully noted the general appearance of the shore. . his treasure was just as he had left it. his boat had proved herself a first−class sailer. till at the end of that time he was perfectly conversant with its good and bad qualities. he recognized it as the boat he had given to Jacopo. A mournful answer awaited each of Edmond's eager inquiries as to the information Jacopo had obtained. The spectators followed the little vessel with their eyes as long as it remained visible. he dropped anchor in the little creek. Dantes employed it in manoeuvring his yacht round the island. instead of landing at the usual place. indeed. Dantes listened to these melancholy tidings with outward calmness. while Africa was positively reported by many persons as her intended course. and in two hours afterwards the newcomer lay at anchor beside the yacht. studying it as a skilful horseman would the animal he destined for some important service. He immediately signalled it. Old Dantes was dead. seemed to be animated with almost human intelligence. But their wonder was soon changed to admiration at seeing the perfect skill with which Dantes handled the helm. and at Monte Cristo he arrived at the close of the second day. so promptly did it obey the slightest touch. Upon the eighth day he discerned a small vessel under full sail approaching Monte Cristo. but. Yet thither it was that Dantes guided his vessel. the latter to remedy. others the Island of Elba. As it drew near. and bore no evidence of having been visited since he went away. Some insisted she was making for Corsica. The former Dantes proposed to augment. Early on the following morning he commenced the removal of his riches. His signal was returned. and Mercedes had disappeared. but no one thought of Monte Cristo. and had come the distance from Genoa in thirty−five hours. they then turned their conjectures upon her probable destination.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

" "How is that?" "Because their deeds have brought them good fortune." "Ah!" said the abbe. on the recommendation of M. daughter of M. and therefore the most guilty?" "What has become of him? Why." "And Fernand?" . while Fernand and Danglars are rolling in wealth. a widow. I shall die of hunger. He is a millionaire. and now he is the Baron Danglars. and they have made him a baron. but if a large fortune produces happiness. the king's chamberlain. sir. as cashier into a Spanish bank. with a fine residence in the Rue de Mont−Blanc. who left him a widower. During the war with Spain he was employed in the commissariat of the French army. and made a fortune. and. six footmen in his ante−chamber. having first married his banker's daughter. then with that money he speculated in the funds. the instigator." "What has become of Danglars. "You see. and was taken." "Happy? Who can answer for that? Happiness or unhappiness is the secret known but to one's self and the walls −− walls have ears but no tongue. and I unable to do anything in the world for her.Chapter 27 311 "Horrible!" ejaculated the priest. who did not know his crime. Morrel. "And it is thus heaven recompenses virtue. while honest men have been reduced to misery. de Servieux. a Madame de Nargonne." added Caderousse. I. who is in high favor at court. Danglars is happy. who never did a bad action but that I have told you of −− am in destitution. "he is happy. he has married a second time. he left Marseilles. and I know not how many millions in his strongbox. as old Dantes did. with ten horses in his stables. and trebled or quadrupled his capital. in a peculiar tone. with my poor wife dying of fever before my very eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and the house of Wild & Turner of Marseilles. sir. to whom they are due.000 francs." "Just so." said Morrel. and now here are 32. "I will not. "an assignment of 200." said Morrel. and assigned to our house by the holders. that while your probity and . taking a quantity of papers from his pocket. as he thought that. the inspector of prisons. "Is this all?" "No. 287. whose face was suffused. I have for the end of the month these bills which have been assigned to us by the house of Pascal." "When are you to pay?" "Half the 15th of this month. "Yes.Chapter 29 331 otherwise. and passed his hand over his forehead. You acknowledge." Morrel sighed deeply. "Two hundred and eighty−seven thousand five hundred francs. he would be unable to honor his own signature. they are all signed by you. in all.500 francs payable shortly.500 francs. "So then." It is impossible to describe what Morrel suffered during this enumeration. and for a considerable sum." repeated he." "I recognize them. amounting to nearly 55. which was covered with perspiration. de Boville. "you hold bills of mine?" "Yes. he placed the money in my hands at four and a half per cent nearly five years ago." continued he." "What is the amount?" asked Morrel with a voice he strove to render firm. that you owe this sum to him?" "Yes. "Here is. "conceal from you." said the Englishman. of course. half the 15th of next.000 francs to our house by M." replied the Englishman. for the first time in his life. after a moment's silence. sir.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

as well as the debt due to the inspector of prisons. under the reverses which had successively weighed down Morrel. The opinion of all the commercial men was that. Morrel had not only engagements with the house of Thomson & French. therefore. and could only attribute it to some such selfish argument as this: −− "We had better help a man who owes us nearly 300. in business he had correspondents. Great. When he thought the matter over. and the general opinion was that the complete ruin of the unfortunate shipowner had been postponed only until the end of the month. The extension provided for by the agent of Thomson & French. Emmanuel. for which. was to the poor shipowner so decided a stroke of good fortune that he almost dared to believe that fate was at length grown weary of wasting her spite upon him. and his daughter all that had occurred. and Morrel made . he had time granted. Unfortunately. and on the 30th the 32.500 francs of bills. he must be a ruined man. he could by no means account for this generous conduct on the part of Thomson & French towards him. if not of tranquillity. who had shown themselves so considerate towards him. The month passed. and not friends. he cancelled all his obligations with his usual punctuality. Cocles thus remained in his accustomed tranquillity. it was impossible for him to remain solvent.000 francs.000 francs of M. was the astonishment when at the end of the month. returned to the family. The bills signed by Morrel were presented at his office with scrupulous exactitude. were paid by Cocles with equal punctuality. that if he had to repay on the 15th the 50. as he had said.000 francs at the end of three months than hasten his ruin. however. It was Morrel alone who remembered with alarm.Chapter 30 341 Chapter 30 The Fifth of September. Still confidence was not restored to all minds. and. and have those 300. de Boville. and a ray of hope. thanks to the delay granted by the Englishman. The same day he told his wife. at the moment when Morrel expected it least." Unfortunately. and. and some even came to a contrary decision. and get only six or eight per cent of our money back again. all Morrel's correspondents did not take this view. whether through envy or stupidity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is supper ready. It is a little worse for the journey." Morcerf then. and dreamed he was racing all over Rome at Carnival time in a coach with six horses. "Do you understand that. but that's no matter." "Then they must put horses to mine. went to bed. it is only a question of how much shall be charged for them. slept soundly. let us sup. . my dear boy. "Be easy. your excellency. they will come in due season." "But the carriage and horses?" said Franz. then." "Well. "I say. that when a thing completely surpasses my comprehension. Signor Pastrini?" "Yes. I am accustomed not to dwell on that thing. but to pass to another." Albert looked at Franz like a man who hears a reply he does not understand. "but can't we have post−horses?" "They have been all hired this fortnight. supped. 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. and there are none left but those absolutely requisite for posting." "There are no horses. my dear Franz −− no horses?" he said." "What are we to say to this?" asked Franz.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

they follow him on the waters. "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. and when they hunt for him there." replied Franz. `And what have you done to aspire to this honor?' demanded the lieutenant. "The explanation would be too long. he has a good understanding with the shepherds in the plains.' An hour afterwards Luigi Vampa was chosen captain." said Franz." replied Albert. and the smugglers of the coast. turning towards his friend. and he is on the waters. Guanouti. vice Cucumetto deceased. Tivoli. They seek for him in the mountains. `and you seek admittance into our ranks?' −− `Welcome!' cried several bandits from Ferrusino. then they pursue him. and he has suddenly taken refuge in the islands. the fishermen of the Tiber. I understand. −− `I come to ask to be your captain.' was Vampa's reply. who had recognized Luigi Vampa. you see. −− `Yes. and he is on the open sea.Chapter 33 417 shepherd's life. Pampinara. and I set fire to the villa San−Felice to procure a wedding−dress for my betrothed." "Then the police have vainly tried to lay hands on him?" "Why. my dear Albert.' −− `And what may that be?' inquired the bandits with astonishment. Cucumetto.' said the lieutenant. whose dress I now wear." "Well. "and never had an existence. The bandits shouted with laughter. or Monte Cristo. but I came to ask something more than to be your companion. my dear landlord. or La Riccia. "what think you of citizen Luigi Vampa?" "I say he is a myth.' said the young man. at Giglio. and Anagni. −− `I have killed your chief. −− `Ah." "And what may a myth be?" inquired Pastrini. he reappears suddenly at Albano." .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he was a viscount −− a recently created one. Albert. all these defects pressed hard on a man who had had his stall at the Bouffes. the most admired and most sought after of any young person of his day. if not to their husbands. Albert. the lovely Genoese. Still. and had shared a lower box at the Opera. alas. Albert had quitted Paris with the full conviction that he had only to show himself in Italy to carry all before him. Alas. was also possessed of considerable talent and ability. And the thing was so much the more annoying. moreover. and thought not of changing even for the splendid appearance of Albert de Morcerf. his elegant toilet was wholly thrown away. and that upon his return he should astonish the Parisian world with the recital of his numerous love−affairs. besides being an elegant. certainly. but in the present day it is not necessary to go as far back as Noah in tracing a descent. Albert de Morcerf commanded an income of 50. should thus be passed over. there might be an exception to the general rule. but. and Neapolitans were all faithful. Sometimes Albert would affect to make a joke of his want of success. however. and his self−love immensely piqued. and the absence of balconies. as elsewhere. at least to their lovers. well−looking young man. to think that Albert de Morcerf. hoped to indemnify .Chapter 34 429 never been able to endure the Italian theatres. a more than sufficient sum to render him a personage of considerable importance in Paris. and all he gained was the painful conviction that the ladies of Italy have this advantage over those of France. whether dated from 1399 or merely 1815. but to crown all these advantages. Yet he could not restrain a hope that in Italy. according to the characteristic modesty of a Frenchman. but internally he was deeply wounded. and one of the most worthy representatives of Parisian fashion had to carry with him the mortifying reflection that he had nearly overrun Italy without meeting with a single adventure. poor Albert! none of those interesting adventures fell in his way. Florentines. in spite of this.000 livres. as. and merely have his labor for his pains. 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. with their orchestras from which it is impossible to see. that they are faithful even in their infidelity. Albert displayed his most dazzling and effective costumes each time he visited the theatres. and a genealogical tree is equally estimated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he detailed the conversation overheard by him at the Colosseum. as our readers are aware. in which the count had promised to obtain the release of the bandit Peppino. and taken its name. and the embarrassment in which he found himself placed by not having sufficient cash by six or seven hundred piastres to make up the sum required. but. the dream. and." Franz then related to his friend the history of his excursion to the Island of Monte Cristo and of his finding a party of smugglers there. whether 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. Go but to Portsmouth or Southampton. He dwelt with considerable force and energy on the almost magical hospitality he had received from the count." He recounted. and thereby depriving him of the advantages naturally expected from so large an outlay of capital. between the count and Vampa. to prevent the possibility of the Tuscan government taking a fancy to his enchanted palace. Just ask yourself. my good fellow. the statues. and have the same liking for this amusement. possesses a vessel of his own. at his awakening. Albert listened with the most profound attention. avoiding the wretched cookery −− which has been trying its best to poison me during the last four months. and the two Corsican bandits with them. he most faithfully fulfilled. −− and obtaining a bed on which it is possible to slumber. Monte Cristo has furnished for himself a temporary abode where you first found him. he has wisely enough purchased the island. the hashish. and the magnificence of his entertainment in the grotto of the "Thousand and One Nights. there remained no proof or trace of all these events. and finally of his application to the count and the picturesque and satisfactory result that followed. At last he arrived at the adventure of the preceding night. Now. −− an engagement which. and you will find the harbors crowded with the yachts belonging to such of the English as can afford the expense. when Franz had concluded.Chapter 38 510 "Then listen to me. with circumstantial exactitude. being rich. save the small yacht. seen in the distant horizon driving under full sail toward Porto−Vecchio." said he. while you have manfully resisted its effects for as many years. "what do you find to object to in all you have related? The count is fond of travelling. all the particulars of the supper. and how. "Well.

therefore. really the thing seems to me simple enough. but purely and simply fugitives." added Albert with a laugh. instead of condemning him for his intimacy with outlaws." replied Franz. How do you explain the influence the count evidently possessed over those ruffians?" "My good friend. "that no prophet is honored in his own country. Nobody knows better than yourself that the bandits of Corsica are not rogues or thieves. I should like to have answered. "the Corsican bandits that were among the crew of his vessel?" "Why. I should never have been estimated in France." . being translated.000 livres of our money −− a sum at which." persisted Franz. you must give me leave to excuse any little irregularity there may be in such a connection. in your place. proving most indisputably. 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. means neither more nor less than 24." "Still. most assuredly. for my own part. for my own idea was that it never was in much danger. if I could only manage to find them.Chapter 38 511 "But. which. but certainly for saving me 4. "I suppose you will allow that such men as Vampa and his band are regular villains. should be to the bandits of Colomba. and that their fellowship involves no disgrace or stigma. whence does he derive his immense fortune. for.000 piastres. "of what country is the count." said Franz. I protest that. ere even I presented myself to the mayor or prefect. not altogether for preserving my life. who have no other motive than plunder when they seize your person. on my conscience." "Talking of countries. it would ill become me to search too closely into its source. 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. my first visit. should I ever go to Corsica. as in all probability I own my present safety to that influence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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; you must lay in a stock of hilarity." "Do not run down M. Danglars' speeches," said Debray; "he votes for you, for he belongs to the opposition." "Pardieu, that is exactly the worst of all. I am waiting until you