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Title: The Count of Monte Cristo Author: Alexandre Dumas, Pere Posting Date: November 8, 2008 [EBook #1184] Release Date: January, 1998 Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO ***

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THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO by Alexandre Dumas, Pere

Chapter 1. Marseilles--The Arrival. On the 24th of February, 1815, the look-out at Notre-Dame de la Garde signalled the three-master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples. As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Chateau d'If, got on board the vessel between Cape Morgion and Rion island. Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean were covered with spectators; it is always an event at Marseilles for a ship to come into port, especially when this ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs to an

owner of the city. The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which some volcanic shock has made between the Calasareigne and Jaros islands; had doubled Pomegue, and approached the harbor under topsails, jib, and spanker, but so slowly and sedately that the idlers, with that instinct which is the forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could have happened on board. However, those experienced in navigation saw plainly that if any accident had occurred, it was not to the vessel herself, for she bore down with all the evidence of being skilfully handled, the anchor a-cockbill, the jib-boom guys already eased off, and standing by the side of the pilot, who was steering the Pharaon towards the narrow entrance of the inner port, was a young man, who, with activity and vigilant eye, watched every motion of the ship, and repeated each direction of the pilot. The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much affected one of the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff, desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Reserve basin. When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship's bulwarks. He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven's wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger. "Ah, is it you, Dantes?" cried the man in the skiff. "What's the matter? and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?" "A great misfortune, M. Morrel," replied the young man,--"a great misfortune, for me especially! Off Civita Vecchia we lost our brave Captain Leclere." "And the cargo?" inquired the owner, eagerly. "Is all safe, M. Morrel; and I think you will be satisfied on that head. But poor Captain Leclere--" "What happened to him?" asked the owner, with an air of considerable resignation. "What happened to the worthy captain?" "He died." "Fell into the sea?" "No, sir, he died of brain-fever in dreadful agony." Then turning to the

crew, he said, "Bear a hand there, to take in sail!" All hands obeyed, and at once the eight or ten seamen who composed the crew, sprang to their respective stations at the spanker brails and outhaul, topsail sheets and halyards, the jib downhaul, and the topsail clewlines and buntlines. The young sailor gave a look to see that his orders were promptly and accurately obeyed, and then turned again to the owner. "And how did this misfortune occur?" inquired the latter, resuming the interrupted conversation. "Alas, sir, in the most unexpected manner. After a long talk with the harbor-master, Captain Leclere left Naples greatly disturbed in mind. In twenty-four hours he was attacked by a fever, and died three days afterwards. We performed the usual burial service, and he is at his rest, sewn up in his hammock with a thirty-six pound shot at his head and his heels, off El Giglio island. We bring to his widow his sword and cross of honor. It was worth while, truly," added the young man with a melancholy smile, "to make war against the English for ten years, and to die in his bed at last, like everybody else." "Why, you see, Edmond," replied the owner, who appeared more comforted at every moment, "we are all mortal, and the old must make way for the young. If not, why, there would be no promotion; and since you assure me that the cargo--" "Is all safe and sound, M. Morrel, take my word for it; and I advise you not to take 25,000 francs for the profits of the voyage." Then, as they were just passing the Round Tower, the young man shouted: "Stand by there to lower the topsails and jib; brail up the spanker!" The order was executed as promptly as it would have been on board a man-of-war. "Let go--and clue up!" At this last command all the sails were lowered, and the vessel moved almost imperceptibly onwards. "Now, if you will come on board, M. Morrel," said Dantes, observing the owner's impatience, "here is your supercargo, M. Danglars, coming out of his cabin, who will furnish you with every particular. As for me, I must look after the anchoring, and dress the ship in mourning." The owner did not wait for a second invitation. He seized a rope which Dantes flung to him, and with an activity that would have done credit to a sailor, climbed up the side of the ship, while the young man, going to his task, left the conversation to Danglars, who now came towards the owner. He was a man of twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, of unprepossessing countenance, obsequious to his superiors, insolent to

his subordinates; and this, in addition to his position as responsible agent on board, which is always obnoxious to the sailors, made him as much disliked by the crew as Edmond Dantes was beloved by them. "Well, M. Morrel," said Danglars, "you have heard of the misfortune that has befallen us?" "Yes--yes: poor Captain Leclere! He was a brave and an honest man." "And a first-rate seaman, one who had seen long and honorable service, as became a man charged with the interests of a house so important as that of Morrel & Son," replied Danglars. "But," replied the owner, glancing after Dantes, who was watching the anchoring of his vessel, "it seems to me that a sailor needs not be so old as you say, Danglars, to understand his business, for our friend Edmond seems to understand it thoroughly, and not to require instruction from any one." "Yes," said Danglars, darting at Edmond a look gleaming with hate. "Yes, he is young, and youth is invariably self-confident. Scarcely was the captain's breath out of his body when he assumed the command without consulting any one, and he caused us to lose a day and a half at the Island of Elba, instead of making for Marseilles direct." "As to taking command of the vessel," replied Morrel, "that was his duty as captain's mate; as to losing a day and a half off the Island of Elba, he was wrong, unless the vessel needed repairs." "The vessel was in as good condition as I am, and as, I hope you are, M. Morrel, and this day and a half was lost from pure whim, for the pleasure of going ashore, and nothing else." "Dantes," said the shipowner, turning towards the young man, "come this way!" "In a moment, sir," answered Dantes, "and I'm with you." Then calling to the crew, he said--"Let go!" The anchor was instantly dropped, and the chain ran rattling through the port-hole. Dantes continued at his post in spite of the presence of the pilot, until this manoeuvre was completed, and then he added, "Half-mast the colors, and square the yards!" "You see," said Danglars, "he fancies himself captain already, upon my word." "And so, in fact, he is," said the owner. "Except your signature and your partner's, M. Morrel."

"And why should he not have this?" asked the owner; "he is young, it is true, but he seems to me a thorough seaman, and of full experience." A cloud passed over Danglars' brow. "Your pardon, M. Morrel," said Dantes, approaching, "the vessel now rides at anchor, and I am at your service. You hailed me, I think?" Danglars retreated a step or two. "I wished to inquire why you stopped at the Island of Elba?" "I do not know, sir; it was to fulfil the last instructions of Captain Leclere, who, when dying, gave me a packet for Marshal Bertrand." "Then did you see him, Edmond?" "Who?" "The marshal." "Yes." Morrel looked around him, and then, drawing Dantes on one side, he said suddenly--"And how is the emperor?" "Very well, as far as I could judge from the sight of him." "You saw the emperor, then?" "He entered the marshal's apartment while I was there." "And you spoke to him?" "Why, it was he who spoke to me, sir," said Dantes, with a smile. "And what did he say to you?" "Asked me questions about the vessel, the time she left Marseilles, the course she had taken, and what was her cargo. I believe, if she had not been laden, and I had been her master, he would have bought her. But I told him I was only mate, and that she belonged to the firm of Morrel & Son. 'Ah, yes,' he said, 'I know them. The Morrels have been shipowners from father to son; and there was a Morrel who served in the same regiment with me when I was in garrison at Valence.'" "Pardieu, and that is true!" cried the owner, greatly delighted. "And that was Policar Morrel, my uncle, who was afterwards a captain. Dantes, you must tell my uncle that the emperor remembered him, and you will see it will bring tears into the old soldier's eyes. Come, come," continued he, patting Edmond's shoulder kindly, "you did very right, Dantes, to

follow Captain Leclere's instructions, and touch at Elba, although if it were known that you had conveyed a packet to the marshal, and had conversed with the emperor, it might bring you into trouble." "How could that bring me into trouble, sir?" asked Dantes; "for I did not even know of what I was the bearer; and the emperor merely made such inquiries as he would of the first comer. But, pardon me, here are the health officers and the customs inspectors coming alongside." And the young man went to the gangway. As he departed, Danglars approached, and said,-"Well, it appears that he has given you satisfactory reasons for his landing at Porto-Ferrajo?" "Yes, most satisfactory, my dear Danglars." "Well, so much the better," said the supercargo; "for it is not pleasant to think that a comrade has not done his duty." "Dantes has done his," replied the owner, "and that is not saying much. It was Captain Leclere who gave orders for this delay." "Talking of Captain Leclere, has not Dantes given you a letter from him?" "To me?--no--was there one?" "I believe that, besides the packet, Captain Leclere confided a letter to his care." "Of what packet are you speaking, Danglars?" "Why, that which Dantes left at Porto-Ferrajo." "How do you know he had a packet to leave at Porto-Ferrajo?" Danglars turned very red. "I was passing close to the door of the captain's cabin, which was half open, and I saw him give the packet and letter to Dantes." "He did not speak to me of it," replied the shipowner; "but if there be any letter he will give it to me." Danglars reflected for a moment. "Then, M. Morrel, I beg of you," said he, "not to say a word to Dantes on the subject. I may have been mistaken." At this moment the young man returned; Danglars withdrew.

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

"She is not my mistress," replied the young sailor, gravely; "she is my betrothed." "Sometimes one and the same thing," said Morrel, with a smile. "Not with us, sir," replied Dantes. "Well, well, my dear Edmond," continued the owner, "don't let me detain you. You have managed my affairs so well that I ought to allow you all the time you require for your own. Do you want any money?" "No, sir; I have all my pay to take--nearly three months' wages." "You are a careful fellow, Edmond." "Say I have a poor father, sir." "Yes, yes, I know how good a son you are, so now hasten away to see your father. I have a son too, and I should be very wroth with those who detained him from me after a three months' voyage." "Then I have your leave, sir?" "Yes, if you have nothing more to say to me." "Nothing." "Captain Leclere did not, before he died, give you a letter for me?" "He was unable to write, sir. But that reminds me that I must ask your leave of absence for some days." "To get married?" "Yes, first, and then to go to Paris." "Very good; have what time you require, Dantes. It will take quite six weeks to unload the cargo, and we cannot get you ready for sea until three months after that; only be back again in three months, for the Pharaon," added the owner, patting the young sailor on the back, "cannot sail without her captain." "Without her captain!" cried Dantes, his eyes sparkling with animation; "pray mind what you say, for you are touching on the most secret wishes of my heart. Is it really your intention to make me captain of the Pharaon?" "If I were sole owner we'd shake hands on it now, my dear Dantes, and call it settled; but I have a partner, and you know the Italian

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

oarsmen bent to their work, and the little boat glided away as rapidly as possible in the midst of the thousand vessels which choke up the narrow way which leads between the two rows of ships from the mouth of the harbor to the Quai d'Orleans. The shipowner, smiling, followed him with his eyes until he saw him spring out on the quay and disappear in the midst of the throng, which from five o'clock in the morning until nine o'clock at night, swarms in the famous street of La Canebiere,--a street of which the modern Phocaeans are so proud that they say with all the gravity in the world, and with that accent which gives so much character to what is said, "If Paris had La Canebiere, Paris would be a second Marseilles." On turning round the owner saw Danglars behind him, apparently awaiting orders, but in reality also watching the young sailor,--but there was a great difference in the expression of the two men who thus followed the movements of Edmond Dantes.

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

we are going to be happy." "Yes, yes, my boy, so we will--so we will," replied the old man; "but how shall we be happy? Shall you never leave me again? Come, tell me all the good fortune that has befallen you." "God forgive me," said the young man, "for rejoicing at happiness derived from the misery of others, but, Heaven knows, I did not seek this good fortune; it has happened, and I really cannot pretend to lament it. The good Captain Leclere is dead, father, and it is probable that, with the aid of M. Morrel, I shall have his place. Do you understand, father? Only imagine me a captain at twenty, with a hundred louis pay, and a share in the profits! Is this not more than a poor sailor like me could have hoped for?" "Yes, my dear boy," replied the old man, "it is very fortunate." "Well, then, with the first money I touch, I mean you to have a small house, with a garden in which to plant clematis, nasturtiums, and honeysuckle. But what ails you, father? Are you not well?" "'Tis nothing, nothing; it will soon pass away"--and as he said so the old man's strength failed him, and he fell backwards. "Come, come," said the young man, "a glass of wine, father, will revive you. Where do you keep your wine?" "No, no; thanks. You need not look for it; I do not want it," said the old man. "Yes, yes, father, tell me where it is," and he opened two or three cupboards. "It is no use," said the old man, "there is no wine." "What, no wine?" said Dantes, turning pale, and looking alternately at the hollow cheeks of the old man and the empty cupboards. "What, no wine? Have you wanted money, father?" "I want nothing now that I have you," said the old man. "Yet," stammered Dantes, wiping the perspiration from his brow,--"yet I gave you two hundred francs when I left, three months ago." "Yes, yes, Edmond, that is true, but you forgot at that time a little debt to our neighbor, Caderousse. He reminded me of it, telling me if I did not pay for you, he would be paid by M. Morrel; and so, you see, lest he might do you an injury"-"Well?"

"Why, I paid him." "But," cried Dantes, "it was a hundred and forty francs I owed Caderousse." "Yes," stammered the old man. "And you paid him out of the two hundred francs I left you?" The old man nodded. "So that you have lived for three months on sixty francs," muttered Edmond. "You know how little I require," said the old man. "Heaven pardon me," cried Edmond, falling on his knees before his father. "What are you doing?" "You have wounded me to the heart." "Never mind it, for I see you once more," said the old man; "and now it's all over--everything is all right again." "Yes, here I am," said the young man, "with a promising future and a little money. Here, father, here!" he said, "take this--take it, and send for something immediately." And he emptied his pockets on the table, the contents consisting of a dozen gold pieces, five or six five-franc pieces, and some smaller coin. The countenance of old Dantes brightened. "Whom does this belong to?" he inquired. "To me, to you, to us! Take it; buy some provisions; be happy, and to-morrow we shall have more." "Gently, will use too many in order gently," said the old man, with a smile; "and by your leave I your purse moderately, for they would say, if they saw me buy things at a time, that I had been obliged to await your return, to be able to purchase them."

"Do as you please; but, first of all, pray have a servant, father. I will not have you left alone so long. I have some smuggled coffee and most capital tobacco, in a small chest in the hold, which you shall have to-morrow. But, hush, here comes somebody." "'Tis Caderousse, who has heard of your arrival, and no doubt comes to

congratulate you on your fortunate return." "Ah, lips that say one thing, while the heart thinks another," murmured Edmond. "But, never mind, he is a neighbor who has done us a service on a time, so he's welcome." As Edmond paused, the black and bearded head of Caderousse appeared at the door. He was a man of twenty-five or six, and held a piece of cloth, which, being a tailor, he was about to make into a coat-lining. "What, is it you, Edmond, back again?" said he, with a broad Marseillaise accent, and a grin that displayed his ivory-white teeth. "Yes, as you see, neighbor Caderousse; and ready to be agreeable to you in any and every way," replied Dantes, but ill-concealing his coldness under this cloak of civility. "Thanks--thanks; but, fortunately, I do not want for chances that at times there are others who have need a gesture. "I do not allude to you, my boy. No!--no! and you returned it; that's like good neighbors, and anything; and it of me." Dantes made I lent you money, we are quits."

"We are never quits with those who oblige us," was Dantes' reply; "for when we do not owe them money, we owe them gratitude." "What's the use of mentioning that? What is done is done. Let us talk of your happy return, my boy. I had gone on the quay to match a piece of mulberry cloth, when I met friend Danglars. 'You at Marseilles?'--'Yes,' says he. "'I thought you were at Smyrna.'--'I was; but am now back again.' "'And where is the dear boy, our little Edmond?' "'Why, with his father, no doubt,' replied Danglars. And so I came," added Caderousse, "as fast as I could to have the pleasure of shaking hands with a friend." "Worthy Caderousse!" said the old man, "he is so much attached to us." "Yes, to be sure I am. I love and esteem you, because honest folks are so rare. But it seems you have come back rich, my boy," continued the tailor, looking askance at the handful of gold and silver which Dantes had thrown on the table. The young man remarked the greedy glance which shone in the dark eyes of his neighbor. "Eh," he said, negligently, "this money is not mine. I was expressing to my father my fears that he had wanted many things in my absence, and to convince me he emptied his purse on the table. Come, father" added Dantes, "put this money back in your box--unless neighbor

Caderousse wants anything, and in that case it is at his service." "No, my boy, no," said Caderousse. "I am not in any want, thank God, my living is suited to my means. Keep your money--keep it, I say;--one never has too much;--but, at the same time, my boy, I am as much obliged by your offer as if I took advantage of it." "It was offered with good will," said Dantes. "No doubt, my boy; no doubt. Well, you stand well with M. Morrel I hear,--you insinuating dog, you!" "M. Morrel has always been exceedingly kind to me," replied Dantes. "Then you were wrong to refuse to dine with him." "What, did you refuse to dine with him?" said old Dantes; "and did he invite you to dine?" "Yes, my dear father," replied Edmond, smiling at his father's astonishment at the excessive honor paid to his son. "And why did you refuse, my son?" inquired the old man. "That I might the sooner see you again, my dear father," replied the young man. "I was most anxious to see you." "But it must have vexed M. Morrel, good, worthy man," said Caderousse. "And when you are looking forward to be captain, it was wrong to annoy the owner." "But I explained to him the cause of my refusal," replied Dantes, "and I hope he fully understood it." "Yes, but to be captain one must do a little flattery to one's patrons." "I hope to be captain without that," said Dantes. "So much the better--so much the better! Nothing will give greater pleasure to all your old friends; and I know one down there behind the Saint Nicolas citadel who will not be sorry to hear it." "Mercedes?" said the old man. "Yes, my dear father, and with your permission, now I have seen you, and know you are well and have all you require, I will ask your consent to go and pay a visit to the Catalans." "Go, my dear boy," said old Dantes: "and heaven bless you in your wife, as it has blessed me in my son!"

"His wife!" said Caderousse; "why, how fast you go on, father Dantes; she is not his wife yet, as it seems to me." "So, but according to all probability she soon will be," replied Edmond. "Yes--yes," said Caderousse; "but you were right to return as soon as possible, my boy." "And why?" "Because Mercedes is a very fine girl, and fine girls never lack followers; she particularly has them by dozens." "Really?" answered Edmond, with a smile which had in it traces of slight uneasiness. "Ah, yes," continued Caderousse, "and capital offers, too; but you know, you will be captain, and who could refuse you then?" "Meaning to say," replied Dantes, with a smile which but ill-concealed his trouble, "that if I were not a captain"-"Eh--eh!" said Caderousse, shaking his head. "Come, come," said the sailor, "I have a better opinion than you of women in general, and of Mercedes in particular; and I am certain that, captain or not, she will remain ever faithful to me." "So much the better--so much the better," said Caderousse. "When one is going to be married, there is nothing like implicit confidence; but never mind that, my boy,--go and announce your arrival, and let her know all your hopes and prospects." "I will go directly," was Edmond's reply; and, embracing his father, and nodding to Caderousse, he left the apartment. Caderousse lingered for a moment, then taking leave of old Dantes, he went downstairs to rejoin Danglars, who awaited him at the corner of the Rue Senac. "Well," said Danglars, "did you see him?" "I have just left him," answered Caderousse. "Did he allude to his hope of being captain?" "He spoke of it as a thing already decided." "Indeed!" said Danglars, "he is in too much hurry, it appears to me."

"Why, it seems M. Morrel has promised him the thing." "So that he is quite elated about it?" "Why, yes, he is actually insolent over the matter--has already offered me his patronage, as if he were a grand personage, and proffered me a loan of money, as though he were a banker." "Which you refused?" "Most assuredly; although I might easily have accepted it, for it was I who put into his hands the first silver he ever earned; but now M. Dantes has no longer any occasion for assistance--he is about to become a captain." "Pooh!" said Danglars, "he is not one yet." "Ma foi, it will be as well if he is not," answered Caderousse; "for if he should be, there will be really no speaking to him." "If we choose," replied Danglars, "he will remain what he is; and perhaps become even less than he is." "What do you mean?" "Nothing--I was speaking to myself. And is he still in love with the Catalane?" "Over head and ears; but, unless I am much mistaken, there will be a storm in that quarter." "Explain yourself." "Why should I?" "It is more important than you think, perhaps. You do not like Dantes?" "I never like upstarts." "Then tell me all you know about the Catalane." "I know nothing for certain; only I have seen things which induce me to believe, as I told you, that the future captain will find some annoyance in the vicinity of the Vieilles Infirmeries." "What have you seen?--come, tell me!" "Well, every time I have seen Mercedes come into the city she has been accompanied by a tall, strapping, black-eyed Catalan, with a red

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

Chapter 3. The Catalans. Beyond a bare, weather-worn wall, about a hundred paces from the spot where the two friends sat looking and listening as they drank their wine, was the village of the Catalans. Long ago this mysterious colony quitted Spain, and settled on the tongue of land on which it is to this day. Whence it came no one knew, and it spoke an unknown tongue. One of its chiefs, who understood Provencal, begged the commune of Marseilles to give them this bare and barren promontory, where, like the sailors of old, they had run their boats ashore. The request was granted; and three months afterwards, around the twelve or fifteen small vessels which had brought these gypsies of the sea, a small village sprang up. This village, constructed in a singular and picturesque manner, half Moorish, half Spanish, still remains, and is inhabited by descendants of the first comers, who speak the language of their fathers. For three or four centuries they have remained upon this small promontory, on which they had settled like a flight of seabirds, without mixing with the Marseillaise population, intermarrying, and preserving their original customs and the costume of their mother-country as they have preserved its language. Our readers will follow us along the only street of this little village, and enter with us one of the houses, which is sunburned to the beautiful dead-leaf color peculiar to the buildings of the country, and within

coated with whitewash, like a Spanish posada. A young and beautiful girl, with hair as black as jet, her eyes as velvety as the gazelle's, was leaning with her back against the wainscot, rubbing in her slender delicately moulded fingers a bunch of heath blossoms, the flowers of which she was picking off and strewing on the floor; her arms, bare to the elbow, brown, and modelled after those of the Arlesian Venus, moved with a kind of restless impatience, and she tapped the earth with her arched and supple foot, so as to display the pure and full shape of her well-turned leg, in its red cotton, gray and blue clocked, stocking. At three paces from her, seated in a chair which he balanced on two legs, leaning his elbow on an old worm-eaten table, was a tall young man of twenty, or two-and-twenty, who was looking at her with an air in which vexation and uneasiness were mingled. He questioned her with his eyes, but the firm and steady gaze of the young girl controlled his look. "You see, Mercedes," said the young man, "here is Easter come round again; tell me, is this the moment for a wedding?" "I have answered you a hundred times, Fernand, and really you must be very stupid to ask me again." "Well, repeat it,--repeat it, I beg of you, that I may at last believe it! Tell me for the hundredth time that you refuse my love, which had your mother's sanction. Make me understand once for all that you are trifling with my happiness, that my life or death are nothing to you. Ah, to have dreamed for ten years of being your husband, Mercedes, and to lose that hope, which was the only stay of my existence!" "At least it was not I who ever encouraged you in that hope, Fernand," replied Mercedes; "you cannot reproach me with the slightest coquetry. I have always said to you, 'I love you as a brother; but do not ask from me more than sisterly affection, for my heart is another's.' Is not this true, Fernand?" "Yes, that is very true, Mercedes," replied the young man, "Yes, you have been cruelly frank with me; but do you forget that it is among the Catalans a sacred law to intermarry?" "You mistake, Fernand; it is not a law, but merely a custom, and, I pray of you, do not cite this custom in your favor. You are included in the conscription, Fernand, and are only at liberty on sufferance, liable at any moment to be called upon to take up arms. Once a soldier, what would you do with me, a poor orphan, forlorn, without fortune, with nothing but a half-ruined hut and a few ragged nets, the miserable inheritance left by my father to my mother, and by my mother to me? She has been dead a year, and you know, Fernand, I have subsisted almost entirely on public charity. Sometimes you pretend I am useful to you, and that is an excuse to share with me the produce of your fishing, and I accept it, Fernand, because you are the son of my father's brother, because we were brought up together, and still more because it would give you so much

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

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

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

and wave, over he had

"Oh," he exclaimed, running furiously and tearing his hair--"Oh, who will deliver me from this man? Wretched--wretched that I am!" "Hallo, Catalan! Hallo, Fernand! where are you running to?" exclaimed a voice. The young man stopped suddenly, looked around him, and perceived Caderousse sitting at table with Danglars, under an arbor. "Well", said Caderousse, "why don't you come? Are you really in such a hurry that you have no time to pass the time of day with your friends?" "Particularly when they have still a full bottle before them," added Danglars. Fernand looked at them both with a stupefied air, but did not

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

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

" he muttered. Heaven forgive me. and laugh at us all. "Eh. eh. who. Fernand?" he said. he is well-behaved!" Fernand. "What do I see down there by the wall. and with his fist on the . see there. unless"--a sinister smile passed over Danglars' lips--"unless I take a hand in the affair. lovely damsel! Come this way. and follow his example. half-rising. and let the lovers make love without interruption. but I should say it was two lovers walking side by side. "It is Edmond and Mercedes!" "Ah." "Hold your tongue. they do not know that we can see them. and the other has fists big enough to crush an ox at one blow. lifted up her lovely head. and he will marry the splendid girl--he will be captain. the other overwhelmed with love. probably excited beyond bearing. one after the other. "I shall get nothing from these fools. now!" said Caderousse." he added. with the tenacity of drunkards. and hand in hand. pricked by Danglars. too. and seemed to be collecting himself to dash headlong upon his rival. and they are actually embracing!" Danglars did not lose one pang that Fernand endured. You know wine is a deceiver. for he had risen from his seat. and Calabrians. At this Fernand recollected her threat of dying if Edmond died. Unquestionably. look at Fernand. pretending to restrain Caderousse. Fernand. "and I am very much afraid of being here between a drunkard and a coward. Dantes! hello. was about to rush out. as the bull is by the bandilleros. Edmond's star is in the ascendant. "Hallo!" continued Caderousse." was the reply. See. eh!" stammered Caderousse. Yet this Catalan has eyes that glisten like those of the vengeful Spaniards. when Mercedes. and looked at them with her clear and bright eyes. for Fernand here is so obstinate he will not tell us. "Try to stand upright. Sicilians. and let us know when the wedding is to be. and swallowed the contents at a gulp. Here's an envious fellow making himself boozy on wine when he ought to be nursing his wrath. and dropped again heavily on his seat. your eyes are better than mine. in a low voice. "Do you know them. will you?" said Danglars.Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with unsteady hand. leaned out of the arbor. and here is a fool who sees the woman he loves stolen from under his nose and takes on like a big baby. I believe I see double. the one brutalized by liquor. Danglars looked at the two men. Fernand dashed his on the ground. "and I did not recognize them! Hallo. in the direction of the Catalans? Look. "Yes. smiling and graceful.

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

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

awaiting with great anxiety the end of this interrupted remark.' [*] . more wine!" and Caderousse rattled his glass upon the table. "I would die myself!" "That's what I call love!" said Caderousse with a voice more tipsy than ever. and you shall find. This drunken Caderousse has made me lose the thread of my sentence. "you appear to me a good sort of fellow.-'Tous les mechants sont beuveurs d'eau. C'est bien prouve par le deluge." replied Danglars. with the accents of unshaken resolution." replied Fernand." "I--drunk!" said Caderousse. she would kill herself. but"-"Yes. I should like to help you. "That's love. "well that's a good one! I could drink four more such bottles. seek. "but how?" "My dear fellow." "Pooh! Women say those things. or I don't know what love is. sir"--said Fernand. "you are three parts drunk. for that requires all one's wit and cool judgment." "Come. for it is because they have bad thoughts which they are afraid the liquor will extract from their hearts. but for you--in the words of the gospel. Pere Pamphile. but never do them. what matter. and do not meddle with what we are discussing." "I have found already." "You do not know Mercedes." and Caderousse began to sing the two last lines of a song very popular at the time. they are no bigger than cologne flasks. and you will be completely so. finish the bottle. provided Dantes is not captain?" "Before Mercedes should die." "Drunk. but the woman told me that if any misfortune happened to her betrothed. "What was I saying? I forget." "Idiot!" muttered Danglars. "You were saying. if you like.Mercedes." said Danglars. and hang me." said Caderousse. Drink then. "whether she kill herself or not. so much the worse for those who fear wine. what she threatens she will do." "What?" "I would stab the man.

who is a wide-awake. Have you that means?" "It is to be found for the searching. your health. one seeks revenge"-"What matters that?" muttered Fernand. you have the means of having Dantes arrested. "I won't hold my tongue!" replied Caderousse. sir. "You talk like a noodle. it would." "Yes." Fernand rose impatiently." "You said. Prove it. Say there is no need why Dantes should die." said Caderousse. "and when one gets out and one's name is Edmond Dantes. be a pity he should. if. your health!" and he swallowed another glass of wine." said Fernand. you understand there is no need to kill him. he is not much out in what he says. clever. who will prove to you that you are wrong. I have answered for you. "Well. and turning towards Fernand." "Certainly not. "I say I want to know why they should put Dantes in prison. I should like to know." persisted Caderousse. who. as you said just now. "and here is Danglars. you would like to help me. methinks." remarked Fernand." said Caderousse. and if the walls of a prison were between Edmond and Mercedes they would be as effectually separated as if he lay under a tombstone. Dantes. But why should I meddle in the matter? it is no affair of mine." "Hold your tongue!" said Danglars. Dantes. seizing his arm. listened eagerly to the conversation. Dantes is a good fellow." "Death alone can separate them. restraining the young man." "I know not why you meddle. I like Dantes. "should they put Dantes in prison? he has not robbed or killed or murdered.* "The wicked are great drinkers of water As the flood proved once for all. Danglars saw in the muddled look of the tailor the progress of his intoxication. indeed. to help you it would be sufficient that Dantes did not marry her you love. but"-"Yes. my friend. and the marriage may easily be thwarted. Danglars. Absence severs as well as death." said Danglars. but I added. but one gets out of prison. "Let him run on. and yet Dantes need not die. with what sense was left him. deep fellow. said. "And why. "but this I . I like Dantes. "drunk as he is.

" "Yes. ink. then. "Waiter." "Pen. adieu. emptying his glass. I am a supercargo. and paper." "True. "No. ink. "the French have the superiority over the Spaniards." called Fernand loudly. I will execute it. "Bring them here. for he who himself hates is never mistaken in the sentiments of others. on my word! I saw you were unhappy. I won't have Dantes killed--I won't!" "And who has said a word about killing him." said Fernand. "pen. for Mercedes has declared she will kill herself if Dantes is killed. Dantes' good health!" said Caderousse. filling Caderousse's glass. now raised it." "Pen." replied Danglars. and paper. that the Spaniards ruminate. "Have you not hit upon any?" asked Danglars." and Danglars rose as if he meant to depart. yes. "and do not interfere with us. then. provided it is not to kill the man. and this morning offered to share his money with me. I hate him! I confess it openly." Caderousse. he said.--"Kill Dantes! who talks of killing Dantes? I won't have him killed--I won't! He's my friend. no. muddlehead?" replied Danglars. "Yes. you have some motive of personal hatred against Dantes. pen. get out of the affair as best you may. "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. but since you believe I act for my own account.know." muttered Fernand. . "We were merely joking. ink. and looking at Fernand with his dull and fishy eyes." said Fernand impatiently. Do you find the means." "I!--motives of hatred against Dantes? None. "No!--you undertook to do so. "There's what you want on that table. restraining him. that's all." The waiter did as he was desired. ink. as I shared mine with him. and without my tools I am fit for nothing." "Do you invent." he added. my dear friend. "here's to his health! his health--hurrah!" "But the means--the means?" said Fernand. who had let his head drop on the table." said Danglars. and paper are my tools. drink to his health. and paper. while the French invent. and your unhappiness interested me." said the waiter.

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

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

Fernand!" "Oh. over each of which was written in golden letters for some inexplicable reason the name of one of the principal cities of France. staggering as he went. the whole of whom had arrayed themselves in their choicest costumes. "I shall return to the Catalans. come. "now the thing is at work and it will effect its purpose unassisted." "You're wrong." said Caderousse. The apartment destined for the purpose was spacious and lighted by a number of windows. Danglars." "I will not. "Well. just as you like." said Fernand." said Caderousse. pick up the crumpled paper. 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."No. . "he's gone right enough. there's liberty for all the world. The feast had been made ready on the second floor at La Reserve. what a lie he told! He said he was going to the Catalans. Come along. When they had advanced about twenty yards. "I should have said not--how treacherous wine is!" "Come. with whose arbor the reader is already familiar. And although the entertainment was fixed for twelve o'clock. Danglars looked back and saw Fernand stoop." Chapter 5. you don't see straight. and other personal friends of the bride-groom." "Well. beneath these windows a wooden balcony extended the entire length of the house. The Marriage-Feast. touching the foamy waves into a network of ruby-tinted light." said Danglars to himself." "What do you mean? you will not? Well." Danglars took advantage of Caderousse's temper at the moment." said Danglars. and let the young gentleman return to the Catalans if he chooses. and putting it into his pocket then rush out of the arbor towards Pillon. and he is going to the city. "why. The morning's sun rose clear and resplendent. to take him off towards Marseilles by the Porte Saint-Victor. my prince. in order to do greater honor to the occasion. Come with us to Marseilles--come along. Hallo.

who now made his appearance. The old man was attired in a suit of glistening watered silk. who had himself assured him of his intention to dine at La Reserve. Having acquitted themselves of their errand. supporting himself on a curiously carved stick. the whole Fernand. stating that he had recently conversed with M. father and son. by whose side walked Dantes' father. Beside him glided Caderousse. attendance on brought up by Neither Mercedes nor Edmond observed the strange expression of his countenance. however. evidently of English manufacture. looking for all the world like one of the aged dandies of 1796. while from his three-cornered hat depended a long streaming knot of white and blue ribbons. Morrel appeared and was saluted with an enthusiastic burst of applause from the crew of the Pharaon. just as the brain . they were so happy that they were conscious only of the sunshine and the presence of each other. His thin but wiry legs were arrayed in a pair of richly embroidered clocked stockings. In fact. Danglars and Caderousse set off upon their errand at full they had gone many steps they perceived a group advancing composed of the betrothed pair. and as Dantes was universally beloved on board his vessel.Various rumors were afloat to the effect that the owners of the Pharaon had promised to attend the nuptial feast. effectually confirmed the report. Thus he came along. but all seemed unanimous in doubting that an act of such rare and exceeding condescension could possibly be intended. beautifully cut and polished. Morrel. and exchanged a hearty shake of the hand with Edmond. his aged countenance lit up with happiness. whose lips wore their usual sinister smile. With the entrance of M. but ere towards them. whose desire to partake of the good things provided for the wedding-party had induced him to become reconciled to the Dantes. accompanied by Caderousse.--the latter of whom attracted universal notice. parading the newly opened gardens of the Tuileries and Luxembourg. speed. a party of young girls in the bride. Morrel. trimmed with steel buttons. a moment later M. although there still lingered in his mind a faint and unperfect recollection of the events of the preceding night. 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. Danglars and Caderousse took their places beside Fernand and old Dantes. Danglars. 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. 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. and to beseech him to make haste.

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

requiring to be overcome ere victory is ours. Arlesian sausages. almost the is. as he carried to his lips a glass of wine of the hue and brightness of the topaz. what ails you?" asked he of Edmond. drawing out his watch. "Why. "Do you fear any approaching evil? I should say that you were the happiest man alive at this instant. smiling. fiery dragons defend the entrance and approach. never mind that. "Now. esteemed by the epicures of the South as more than rivalling the exquisite flavor of the oyster. the echinus with its prickly outside and dainty morsel within. and styled by the grateful fishermen "fruits of the sea. it is not worth while to contradict me for such a trifle as that.Then they began to pass around the dusky. "a man cannot always feel happy because he is about to be married." "Nay. my worthy friend." returned Dantes. Mercedes is not yet your wife. while Fernand. and monsters of all shapes and kinds. seemed to start at every fresh sound. Just assume the tone and manner of a husband. happiness is like the enchanted palaces we read of in our childhood. 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. whose excitable nature received and betrayed each fresh impression. in fact.--all the delicacies. it seems to oppress us same as sorrow. prawns of large size and brilliant color. and from time to time wiped away the large drops of perspiration that gathered on his brow. "in an hour and a half she will be. but. would anybody think that this room contained a happy. what you meant by your observation. you joy takes a strange effect at times." "A pretty silence truly!" said the old father of the bride-groom." sighed Caderousse." "The truth if that is are right." added he. nay!" cried Caderousse. and see how she will remind you that your hour is not yet come!" The bride blushed. "Man does not appear to me to be intended to enjoy felicity so unmixed. "Well. piquant." "And that is the very thing that alarms me. and lobsters in their dazzling red cuirasses. and which had just been placed before Mercedes herself. that are cast up by the wash of waters on the sandy beach. 'Tis true that Mercedes is not actually my wife. merry party. where fierce. neighbor Caderousse. the clovis. "you have not attained that honor yet." Danglars looked towards Fernand. "that I am too happy for noisy mirth. restless and uneasy." ." replied Dantes. who desire nothing better than to laugh and dance the hours away?" "Ah.

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

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

"I demand admittance. advanced with dignity. so as to deaden even the noisy mirth of the bridal party. "I am he. The sounds drew nearer. and although I most reluctantly perform the task assigned me. and said. "May I venture to inquire the reason of this unexpected visit?" said M. then came a hum and buzz as of many voices. followed by the measured tread of soldiery. addressing the magistrate. but you will be duly acquainted with the reasons that have rendered such a step necessary at the preliminary examination. sprang forward. He saw before him an officer delegated to enforce the law. The company looked at each other in consternation. with vociferous cheers." replied the magistrate. Morrel. in a firm voice. as to address a petition to some cold marble effigy. whom he evidently knew. "in the name of the law!" As no attempt was made to prevent it. "and wherefore. presented himself. saw him stagger and fall back. Who among the persons here assembled answers to the name of Edmond Dantes?" Every eye was turned towards the young man who. "there is doubtless some mistake easily explained. Three blows were struck upon the panel of the door. ." "If it be so. be fulfilled. what is your pleasure with me?" "Edmond Dantes. meanwhile. among whom a vague feeling of curiosity and apprehension quelled every disposition to talk. and a magistrate." M." replied the magistrate. "I arrest you in the name of the law!" "Me!" repeated Edmond. however. spite of the agitation he could not but feel. Old Dantes. and almost instantaneously the most deathlike stillness prevailed. with the clanking of swords and military accoutrements. against a seat placed near one of the open windows. the door was opened. Uneasiness now yielded to the most extreme dread on the part of those present. slightly changing color. who had been incessantly observing every change in Fernand's look and manner. I pray?" "I cannot inform you. followed by four soldiers and a corporal. "rely upon every reparation being made. There are situations which the heart of a father or a mother cannot be made to understand.His words were re-echoed by the whole party. with an almost convulsive spasm." said a loud voice outside the room. nevertheless. At the same instant his ear caught a sort of indistinct sound on the stairs. At this moment Danglars. wearing his official scarf. Morrel felt that further resistance or remonstrance was useless. and perfectly well knew that it would be as unavailing to seek pity from a magistrate decked with his official scarf. it must. I am the bearer of an order of arrest.

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

preceded by the magistrate." "You can. "I don't think so." said Caderousse. placed next to the seat on which poor Mercedes had fallen half fainting. and hurry to Marseilles. "Adieu. The prisoner heard the cry. Morrel. 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. then hastily swallowing it." "You don't mention those who aided and abetted the deed. adieu." Dantes descended the staircase. by mere chance. and followed by the soldiers. followed by two soldiers and the magistrate." whispered Caderousse. when the arrow lights point downward on somebody's . and with a simultaneous burst of feeling rushed into each other's arms. which sounded like the sob of a broken heart. "Wait for me here. indeed. who had never taken his eyes off Fernand. "He is the cause of all this misery--I am quite sure of it. all of you!" cried M. when released from the warm and affectionate embrace of old Dantes. but at length the two poor victims of the same blow raised their eyes. I only hope the mischief will fall upon the head of whoever wrought it." answered the other."nothing more than a mistake. Mercedes--we shall soon meet again!" Then the vehicle disappeared round one of the turnings of Fort Saint Nicholas. dearest Edmond!" cried Mercedes. The old father and Mercedes remained for some time apart. stretching out her arms to him from the balcony. "one cannot be held responsible for every chance arrow shot into the air. to Danglars. poured out for himself a glass of water with a trembling hand. he got in. I feel quite certain. and this was. "he's too stupid to imagine such a scheme. "Good-by. whence I will bring you word how all is going on. "Surely. each absorbed in grief. went to sit down at the first vacant place. "I will take the first conveyance I find. and leaning from the coach he called out. "go." "That's right!" exclaimed a multitude of voices." answered Danglars. Instinctively Fernand drew back his chair. and the vehicle drove off towards Marseilles. Meanwhile Fernand made his appearance. A carriage awaited him at the door.

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

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

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

he ." "Well." "Be easy on that score. by Heavens." replied Danglars." "Perhaps not. de Villefort." So saying. I will join you there ere long. Private misfortunes must never be allowed to interfere with business. "the turn things have taken. well. Morrel. but yet it seems to me a shocking thing that a mere joke should lead to such consequences.three months. M. but. and it will be so far advantageous to you to accept my services. "that I can answer for. and either copied it or caused it to be copied." "Well. he did not take the trouble of recopying it. you knew very well that I threw the paper into a corner of the room--indeed. I fancied I had destroyed it. Morrel. but in the meantime?" "I am entirely at your service. no. and that's rather against him. if you did. and proceeded in the direction of the Palais de Justice. but Fernand. and I fancy not a bad sort of one. I fully authorize you at once to assume the command of the Pharaon. M. "but I hear that he is ambitious. addressing Caderousse. Do you still feel any desire to stand up in his defence?" "Not the slightest. And now I think of it." "No doubt. you did not. I am aware he is a furious royalist. 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. then." replied Caderousse. and look carefully to the unloading of her freight. Fernand picked it up. and of his being king's attorney." "Oh. he is a man like ourselves." "Thanks. in spite of that. perhaps. but do you think we shall be permitted to see our poor Edmond?" "I will let you know that directly I have seen M. depend upon it. Danglars--that will smooth over all difficulties." answered Danglars. whom I shall endeavor to interest in Edmond's favor." "But who perpetrated that joke. "You see. Morrel." returned M. But now hasten on board. the worthy shipowner quitted the two allies. 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. let me ask? neither you nor myself. even." said Danglars. "You know that I am as capable of managing a ship as the most experienced captain in the service. "we shall see. let us hope that ere the expiration of that period Dantes will be set at liberty.

that I had had no hand in it. the handwriting was disguised." "Nonsense! If any harm come of it." "Amen!" responded Caderousse. and bending his steps towards the Allees de Meillan." argued Caderousse. . for me. the company was strikingly dissimilar. at least." said Danglars.--magistrates who had resigned their office during the usurper's reign. brought up to hate and execrate the man whom five years of exile would convert into a martyr. But. Instead of a rude mixture of sailors. Chapter 6. "all has gone as I would have it." "Still. and younger members of families. there. however." "Then you were aware of Dantes being engaged in a conspiracy?" "Not I. officers who had deserted from the imperial army and joined forces with Conde. "So far. and muttering as he went. then." added he with a smile. the present assembly was composed of the very flower of Marseilles society. Danglars. It seems. My only fear is the chance of Dantes being released. desiring to be rowed on board the Pharaon. "I would give a great deal if nothing of the kind had happened.may have sent the letter itself! Fortunately. it should fall on the guilty person. although the occasion of the entertainment was similar. As I before said. that it will turn out an unlucky job for both of us. he is in the hands of Justice. and fifteen of restoration elevate to the rank of a god. and that. to keep our own counsel. with the certainty of being permanently so. after the manner of one whose mind was overcharged with one absorbing idea. In this case. mentally. however. How can we be implicated in any way? All we have got to do is." So saying. and those belonging to the humblest grade of life. Morrel had agreed to meet him. is Fernand. commander of the Pharaon. he leaped into a boat. You will see. In one of the aristocratic mansions built by Puget in the Rue du Grand Cours opposite the Medusa fountain. nothing more. temporarily. you know. and you will see that the storm will pass away without in the least affecting us. or. moving his head to and fro. almost at the same hour with the nuptial repast given by Dantes. a second marriage feast was being celebrated. waving his hand in token of adieu to Danglars. I thought the whole thing was a joke. that I have unconsciously stumbled upon the truth. where M. "she will take her own. The Deputy Procureur du Roi. if that fool of a Caderousse can be persuaded to hold his tongue. and. I am. not breathing a word to any living soul. and remain perfectly quiet. soldiers.

they could not help admitting that the king. glasses were elevated in the air a l'Anglais. to them their evil genius. on one's wedding day there are more agreeable subjects of conversation than dry politics. and in this they foresaw for themselves the bright and cheering prospect of a revivified political existence. now king of the petty Island of Elba. but over the defeat of the Napoleonic idea. their 'Napoleon the accursed." "Marquise. yes. but--in truth--I was not attending to the conversation. The magistrates freely discussed their political views. where unhappily. decorated with the cross of Saint Louis. for whom we sacrificed rank. forbidding eye. who have driven us from those very possessions they afterwards purchased for a mere trifle during the Reign of Terror.The guests were still at table. madame. a woman with a stern. were they here. for five centuries religious strife had long given increased bitterness to the violence of party feeling. yes. since we were content to follow the fortunes of a falling monarch. counting as his subjects a small population of five or six thousand souls. "let the young people alone. that they rejoiced.' Am I not right. that all true devotion was on our side. uttered in ten different languages. let me tell you. wealth.' while their wretched usurper his been. made their fortune by worshipping the rising sun. now rose and proposed the health of King Louis XVIII. separated forever from any fresh connection with France or claim to her throne. would be compelled to own. I really must pray you to excuse me. despite her fifty years--"ah. and the heated and energetic conversation that prevailed betrayed the violent and vindictive passions that then agitated each dweller of the South. and station was truly our 'Louis the well-beloved. The emperor. An old man. It was not over the downfall of the man. while they. In a word. these revolutionists.--was looked upon here as a ruined man. an almost poetical fervor prevailed. strewed the table with their floral treasures. "Ah." said the Marquise de Saint-Meran. excited universal enthusiasm. on the contrary. while the women commented on the divorce of Josephine. Villefort?" "I beg your pardon.--after having been accustomed to hear the "Vive Napoleons" of a hundred and twenty millions of human beings. and ever will be. though still noble and distinguished in appearance." . and the ladies. This toast. recalling at once the patient exile of Hartwell and the peace-loving King of France. It was the Marquis de Saint-Meran. the military part of the company talked unreservedly of Moscow and Leipsic. after having held sovereign sway over one-half of the world. marquise!" interposed the old nobleman who had proposed the toast. snatching their bouquets from their fair bosoms.

and that explains how it comes to pass that. "Never mind. Renee. madame. come. Napoleon is the Mahomet of the West. The only difference consists in the opposite character of the equality advocated by these two men. What I was saying. but also as the personification of equality. what would you call Robespierre? Come. one is the equality that elevates." replied the young man. who was not half so bad as Napoleon. de Villefort."Never mind. ." said M. or devotion. worthy of being gratefully remembered by every friend to monarchy and civil order. with a look of tenderness that seemed out of keeping with her harsh dry features. that you are talking in a most dreadfully revolutionary strain? But I excuse it. has usurped quite enough. to my mind. with a profusion of light brown hair. there is always one bright smiling spot in the desert of her heart. who. one brings a king within reach of the guillotine. Villefort. "I forgive you. enthusiasm. and is worshipped by his commonplace but ambitions followers. marquise. was. the other elevates the people to a level with the throne. then. But there--now take him--he is your own for as long as you like. that the Bonapartists had not our sincerity." "He!" cried the marquise: "Napoleon the type of equality! For mercy's sake. I would place each of these heroes on his right pedestal--that of Robespierre on his scaffold in the Place Louis Quinze. "and that was fanaticism." "Nay. "I do not mean to deny that both these men were revolutionary scoundrels. Observe. not only as a leader and lawgiver. and that the 9th Thermidor and the 4th of April. and eyes that seemed to float in liquid crystal. and that is the shrine of maternal love. however. smiling." "Do you know. de Villefort. it is impossible to expect the son of a Girondin to be free from a small spice of the old leaven. dearest mother. had his partisans and advocates. fallen." replied the marquise. however all other feelings may be withered in a woman's nature. Villefort. it has been so with other usurpers--Cromwell. what supplied the place of those fine qualities. do not strip the latter of his just rights to bestow them on the Corsican. "'tis all my fault for seizing upon M." "If the marquise will deign to repeat the words I but imperfectly caught. in the year 1814." said a young and lovely girl. I beg to remind you my mother speaks to you. Napoleon has still retained a train of parasitical satellites. M. for instance. Villefort. that of Napoleon on the column of the Place Vendome. so as to prevent his listening to what you said." A deep crimson suffused the countenance of Villefort. but. the other is the equality that degrades. as I trust he is forever. Still. I shall be delighted to answer. were lucky days for France." said Villefort." "They had.

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

"it seems probable that. de Villefort to purify Marseilles of his partisans. they were talking about it when we left Paris." "Do you. and we must trust to the vigilance of M. we shall be rid of Napoleon. indeed." replied the count.conducted several public prosecutions. madame. de Saint-Meran's oldest friends." "Oh. where he was born. think so?" inquired the marquise. As Villefort observes." "Unfortunately. "I am. one of M. getting up quarrels with the royalists. and brought the offenders to merited punishment." said the Comte de Salvieux. "An island situated on the other side of the equator. and Naples. by the aid of the Holy Alliance." "For heaven's sake. the sovereignty of which he coveted for his son. and his proximity keeps up the hopes of his partisans. "that the Holy Alliance purpose removing him from thence?" "Yes. "So much the better." answered Villefort. and chamberlain to the Comte d'Artois. he should be upheld in peace and tranquillity." . it is a great act of folly to have left such a man between Corsica." said Villefort." said M." responded M. well." "Unfortunately. from hence arise continual and fatal duels among the higher classes of persons. Napoleon. of which his brother-in-law is king. we shall find some way out of it. is too near France. and face to face with Italy. and assassinations in the lower. in the Island of Elba." said the marquise. de Saint-Meran. 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. fearful of it. "There wasn't any trouble over treaties when it was a question of shooting the poor Duc d'Enghien. and we cannot molest Napoleon without breaking those compacts. perhaps. if he be acknowledged as sovereign of France. who are daily." "Well." "You have heard. Marseilles is filled with half-pay officers. "the strong arm of the law is not called upon to interfere until the evil has taken place. under one frivolous pretext or other. "there are the treaties of 1814. "and where is it decided to transfer him?" "To Saint Helena. The king is either a king or no king. at least. de Salvieux. where is that?" asked the marquise. at least two thousand leagues from here. But we have not done with the thing yet.

instead of--as is the case when a curtain falls on a tragedy--going home to sup peacefully with his family. for instance." "Nay. de Villefort." replied the young man. and who can say how many daggers may be ready sharpened. becoming more and more terrified." "What would you have? 'Tis like a duel." "Indeed I am. in order to lash one's self into a state of sufficient vehemence and power. "do try and get up some famous trial while we are at Marseilles. and the cherished friend of Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. against the movers of political conspiracies. certainly. than to slaughter his fellow-creatures. that should any favorable opportunity present itself. will scruple more to drive a stiletto into the heart of one he knows to be his personal enemy. "inasmuch as." Renee uttered a smothered exclamation. the case would only be still more aggravated. The prisoner whom you there see pale. to have served under Napoleon--well. the prisoner. I will not fail to offer you the choice of being present. one requires the excitement of being hateful in the eyes of the accused. I have already recorded sentence of death.--is removed from your sight merely to be reconducted to his prison and delivered up to the executioner. M. I leave you to judge how far your nerves are calculated to bear you through such a scene. I would not choose to see the man against whom I pleaded smile. madame." "For shame." "Oh. merely because bidden to do so by one he is bound to obey? Besides. five or six times. I never was in a law-court. that he may recommence his mimic woes on the morrow. agitated. de Villefort!" said Renee. as though in mockery of my words. be assured. that one accustomed. I am told it is so very amusing!" "Amusing. "and in the interesting trial that young lady is anxious to witness. M." said Renee. "don't you see how you are frightening us?--and yet you laugh. instead of shedding tears as at the fictitious tale of woe produced at a theatre." cried a beautiful young creature. my pride is to see the accused pale."Then all he has got to do is to endeavor to repair it. . "you surely are not in earnest. and alarmed. however. No. becoming quite pale." replied the young magistrate with a smile. and only waiting a favorable opportunity to be buried in my heart?" "Gracious heavens. Suppose. agitated. as is more than probable. M. and then retiring to rest. at the word of his commander. you behold in a law-court a case of real and genuine distress--a drama of life. can you expect for an instant. daughter to the Comte de Salvieux. the law is frequently powerless to effect this. Of this. all it can do is to avenge the wrong done. de Villefort. to rush fearlessly on the very bayonets of his foe. and as though beaten out of all composure by the fire of my eloquence.

and such dreadful people as that. Upon my word. you killed him ere the executioner had laid his hand upon him." answered Villefort. "What a splendid business that last case of yours was. Renee. the king is the father of his people. good Renee. "that M. you have promised me--have you not?--always to show mercy to those I plead for." interposed Renee. "I cannot help regretting you had not chosen some other profession than your own--a physician. Do you know I always felt a shudder at the idea of even a destroying angel?" "Dear. "I mean the trial of the man for murdering his father. if so. de Villefort may prove the moral and political physician of this province. but do not meddle with what you do not understand." said a second. "Let us hope. "attend to your doves. Nowadays the military profession is in abeyance and the magisterial robe is the badge of honor. and embroidery." responded the marquise. is a parricide upon a fearfully great scale?" "I don't know anything about that. "Well." "Oh." replied Renee." said Villefort with a bow." said Renee. as he gazed with unutterable tenderness on the lovely speaker." said the marquise. your lap-dogs. as for parricides. for. that is the very worst offence they could possibly commit." whispered Villefort. he will have achieved a noble work. with one of his sweetest smiles. don't you see. but as regards poor unfortunate creatures whose only crime consists in having mixed themselves up in political intrigues"-"Why." "My love. my dear Villefort!" remarked a third. "you and I will always consult upon our verdicts." "Cedant arma togae. "that is what I call talking to some purpose."Bravo!" cried one of the guests. "it matters very little what is done to them. for instance. my child. and he who shall plot or contrive aught against the life and safety of the parent of thirty-two millions of souls." cried the marquis." "Make yourself quite easy on that point. de Villefort." "Just the person we require at a time like the present. There is a wise Latin proverb that is very much in point. "but." . M. "I cannot speak Latin.

then. were a conspirator to fall into your hands. than his son. 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. interrupted us by saying. without our suspecting it. and that Providence will only permit petty offenders. and that he is."And one which will go far to efface the recollection of his father's conduct." added the incorrigible marquise. 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.'" "Is it possible the king could have condescended so far as to express himself so favorably of me?" asked the enraptured Villefort." cried the Comte de Salvieux. "I love to see you thus. at the present moment.' said his majesty. "Do you know. but. had not the noble marquis anticipated my wishes by requesting my consent to it. "I have already had the honor to observe that my father has--at least. "that is exactly what I myself said the other day at the Tuileries. I should myself have recommended the match. dear mother. 'Villefort'--observe that the king did not pronounce the word Noirtier. Villefort looked carefully around to mark the effect of his oratory. on the contrary. and I assure you he seemed fully to comprehend that this mode of reconciling political differences was based upon sound and excellent principles. "How much do I owe this gracious prince! What is there I would not do to evince my earnest gratitude!" "That is right. who." replied Villefort. with a mournful smile. who will be sure to make a figure in his profession. my dear Villefort. "Madame. "I trust your wishes will not prosper." answered the marquis. 'is a young man of great judgment and discretion. "I give you his very words. while I have no other impulse than warm. much as he would have done had he been addressing the bench in open court. and if the marquis chooses to be candid." "For my part." "That is true." interposed Renee. Now. possibly. for he has to atone for past dereliction. when he went six months ago to consult him upon the subject of your espousing his daughter. he will confess that they perfectly agree with what his majesty said to him. had overheard our conversation. a firm and zealous friend to religion and order--a better royalist. he would be most welcome. and miserable cheats to fall into M." cried the marquise. placed considerable emphasis on that of Villefort--'Villefort. I hope so--abjured his past errors. Then the king. de Villefort's . poor debtors. decided preference and conviction." Having made this well-turned speech.

returned. "You were wishing just now. "Is it possible?" burst simultaneously from all who were near enough to the magistrate to hear his words." "How dreadful!" exclaimed Renee. Ample corroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting the above-mentioned Edmond . this day arrived from Smyrna. measles." At this moment. "I will read you the letter containing the accusation. if my information prove correct." "And wherefore were you called away just now?" asked Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran. his whole face beaming with delight. I at least resemble the disciples of Esculapius in one thing--that of not being able to call a day my own.hands." said Villefort. Well. or any other slight affection of the epidermis. you must desire for me some of those violent and dangerous diseases from the cure of which so much honor redounds to the physician. that one named Edmond Dantes. If you wish to see me the king's attorney. with an air of deep interest. he soon. "For a very serious matter. not even that of my betrothal. and again taken charge of another letter from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris." said Villefort:-"'The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and the religions institutions of his country." "Can I believe my ears?" cried the marquise. however. and whispered a few words in his ear. which bids fair to make work for the executioner. and certainly his handsome features. Renee regarded him with fond affection.--then I shall be contented. lit up as they then were with more than usual fire and animation. Villefort immediately rose from table and quitted the room upon the plea of urgent business. seemed formed to excite the innocent admiration with which she gazed on her graceful and intelligent lover. after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo. turning pale." "Just the same as though you prayed that a physician might only be called upon to prescribe for headaches. has been the bearer of a letter from Murat to the usurper. "Why. and as though the utterance of Villefort's wish had sufficed to effect its accomplishment. addressing her. "that I were a doctor instead of a lawyer. mate of the ship Pharaon. and the stings of wasps. a sort of Bonaparte conspiracy has just been discovered. at least. a servant entered the room.

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

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

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

however. Villefort's first impression was favorable. looked round for a seat. who stood. carefully watched. on the spot where Villefort had left him." "Your age?" continued Villefort. The ante-chamber was full of police agents and gendarmes. Morrel & Son." Rapid as had been Villefort's glance. had swelled to voluminous proportions. arrested in a tavern. the feelings of compassion that were rising. but he had been so often warned to mistrust first impulses. betrays nothing of his own. An instant after Dantes entered. he entered. you may rest assured I shall perform my duty impartially. "Bring in the prisoner. that a police agent had given to him on his entry. which adjoined the Palais de Justice. and sat down. thanks to the corrupt espionage of which "the accused" is always made the victim." said the young man. while seeming to read the thoughts of others. disappeared. grim and sombre." returned Dantes. saying. "Who and what are you?" demanded Villefort. and that if he be innocent you shall not have appealed to me in vain. containing information relative to the prisoner. that he applied the maxim to the impression. "What were you doing at the moment you were arrested?" "I was at the festival of my marriage." replied the young man calmly. turning over a pile of papers. in an hour's time. his voice slightly tremulous. so great was the contrast between the sombre aspect of M. monsieur. He had recognized intelligence in the high forehead. after having. it had served to give him an idea of the man he was about to interrogate. as if petrified. who. but calm and collected. impunity would furnish a dangerous example. coldly saluted the shipowner. be guilty. It was then that he encountered for the first time Villefort's look. courage in the dark eye and bent brow. stood the prisoner." Then he added. "Monsieur.I recollect. cast a side glance at Dantes. Villefort traversed the ante-chamber. and frankness in the thick lips that showed a set of pearly teeth. in company with a great many others. He stifled. at his desk. . as if he had been in M. and that. forgetting the difference between the two words. "Nineteen. and I must do my duty. "I am mate of the Pharaon." As he had now arrived at the door of his own house. and taking a packet which a gendarme offered him. He was pale. in the midst of whom. already. so great was the contrast between that happy moment and the painful ceremony he was now undergoing. Morrel's salon. and saluting his judge with easy politeness.--that look peculiar to the magistrate. de Villefort and the radiant face of Mercedes. but calm and smiling. "My name is Edmond Dantes. should he. composed his features. belonging to Messrs. in this present epoch. therefore.

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

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

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

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

before doing so. "you are goodness itself. it is impossible to doubt it." said he. cast it in. and I will obey. and." "Oh." "Listen." continued Villefort. if he knows the contents of this!" murmured he. moist with perspiration. but in vain." replied Dantes proudly. "and that Noirtier is the father of Villefort. I must detain you some time longer." . for the third time. but advice I give you. read the letter. and not you." said Dantes. "it was only to summon assistance for you. monsieur. "Oh. this is not a command. sir. passed his hand over his brow. I am lost!" And he fixed his eyes upon Edmond as if he would have penetrated his thoughts." Villefort made a violent effort. "if you doubt me. question me." "Speak. rising hastily. "you can now have confidence in me after what I have done. "I am no longer able. I destroy it?" "Oh. suddenly. I must consult the trial justice." "Well. and in a tone he strove to render firm." cried he." "I want none. I will answer you. answer me. but I will strive to make it as short as possible. It is for me to give orders here." "Oh.-"Sir. Villefort fell back on his chair. "stay where you are." cried Dantes." exclaimed Dantes. "but what is the matter? You are ill--shall I ring for assistance?--shall I call?" "No." "Monsieur. and waited until it was entirely consumed. "Oh." Dantes waited. The principal charge against you is this letter. expecting a question. and I will follow your advice. command. as I had hoped. "you have been rather a friend than a judge." "Listen. "You see." said Villefort. Attend to yourself."And you say that you are ignorant of the contents of this letter?" "I give you my word of honor. "In heaven's name!" cried the unhappy young man. and you see"--Villefort approached the fire. to restore you immediately to liberty. what my own feeling is you already know. it was a temporary indisposition.

should you." Villefort rang. "Alas." "I swear it. I will deny it. A door that communicated with the Palais de Justice was opened. who placed themselves one on Dantes' right and the other on his left." murmured he. Dantes saluted Villefort and retired. the deputy procureur hastened to the house of his betrothed."I shall detain you until this evening in the Palais de Justice. "if the procureur himself had been at Marseilles I should have been ruined. Villefort whispered some words in his ear. "You see." It was Villefort who seemed to entreat. I will make my fortune. The Chateau D'If. and you are saved. deny all knowledge of it--deny it boldly." And after having assured himself that the prisoner was gone." said he. Oh. alas. and the prisoner who reassured him. my father. "This will do. "and from this letter. made a sign to two gendarmes. as he traversed the ante-chamber. This accursed letter would have destroyed all my hopes." "I promise." said Villefort to Dantes. where fragments of burnt paper fluttered in the flames. "the letter is destroyed. to which the officer replied by a motion of his head. but do not breathe a word of this letter. you and I alone know of its existence. The commissary of police. Should any one else interrogate you. a smile played round his set mouth." "It was the only letter you had?" "It was. and his haggard eyes were fixed in thought." continued he. glancing toward the grate. and they went through a long range of gloomy corridors. A police agent entered. Now to the work I have in hand. must your past career always interfere with my successes?" Suddenly a light passed over his face. therefore. . "Follow him. Chapter 8. Hardly had the door closed when Villefort threw himself half-fainting into a chair. say to him what you have said to me. which might have ruined me." "Be satisfied." "Swear it. be questioned.

The prisoner glanced at the windows--they were grated. every blow seeming to Dantes as if struck on his heart. It was.--a sombre edifice. but feeling himself urged forward. Dantes saw they were passing through the Rue Caisserie. He was conducted to a tolerably neat chamber. and just as Dantes began to despair. besides. did not greatly alarm him. but the sound died away. the coachman was on the box. he mounted the steps. and the door closed with a loud sound behind him. the massy oaken door flew open. The obscurity augmented the acuteness of his hearing. the two others took their places opposite. and a police officer sat beside him. a key turned in the lock. "Is this carriage for me?" said Dantes. "Yes. and a flood of light from two torches pervaded the apartment. The air he inhaled was no longer pure. By the torchlight Dantes saw the glittering sabres and carbines of four gendarmes.--he was in prison. convinced they were about to liberate him. the words of Villefort." The conviction that they came from M. He had advanced at first. but stopped at the sight of this display of force. that from its grated windows looks on the clock-tower of the Accoules. "By the orders of the deputy procureur?" "I believe so. "Are you come to fetch me?" asked he. he had changed his prison for another that was conveying him he knew not whither. Dantes was about to speak. and the prisoner was soon buried in darkness. "It is for you. and was in an instant seated inside between two gendarmes. to the port. steps were heard in the corridor. as we have said. and the carriage rolled heavily over the stones. and placed himself in the centre of the escort. The commissary took up an iron mallet and knocked thrice. The Palais de Justice communicated with the prison. and Dantes sank again into his seat. After numberless windings. and its appearance. and having neither the power nor the intention to resist. Dantes saw a door with an iron wicket." replied a gendarme. A carriage waited at the door." replied a gendarme. The door opened. but grated and barred. the two gendarmes gently pushed him forward.whose appearance might have made even the boldest shudder. therefore. It was four o'clock when Dantes was placed in this chamber. Through the grating. At last. who seemed to interest himself so much. he advanced calmly. the bolts creaked. the 1st of March. de Villefort relieved all Dantes' apprehensions. resounded still in his ears like a promise of freedom. and by the Rue Saint-Laurent and the Rue Taramis. Soon he saw the lights of La Consigne. . at the slightest sound he rose and hastened to the door. about ten o'clock. but thick and mephitic. however.

which a custom-house officer held by a chain. a shove sent the boat adrift. and about to double the battery. and now through the open windows came the laughter and revelry of a ball. They had passed the Tete de Morte. The soldiers looked at Dantes with an air of stupid curiosity. The prisoner's first feeling was of joy at again breathing the pure air--for air is freedom. Dantes folded his hands. he thought. and. they were going to leave him on some distant point. raised his eyes to heaven. nor had they made any attempt to handcuff him. there was no vessel at anchor outside the harbor. for he passed before La Reserve. The two gendarmes who were opposite to him descended first. "Whither are you taking me?" asked he. told him that provided he did not pronounce the dreaded name of Noirtier. and prayed fervently. knew that nothing would be more absurd than to question subordinates. At a shout from the boat. He was not bound. and four sturdy oarsmen impelled it rapidly towards the Pilon. approached the guardhouse.The carriage stopped. without speaking a word. The boat they were in could not make a long voyage. he had nothing to apprehend? Had not . who were forbidden to reply. but he soon sighed. the officer descended. Dantes saw the reflection of their muskets by the light of the lamps on the quay. for he saw between the ranks of the soldiers a passage formed from the carriage to the port." Dantes. perhaps. "Can all this force be summoned on my account?" thought he. were now off the Anse du Pharo." "But still"-"We are forbidden to give you any explanation. who had been so kind to him. a dozen soldiers came out and formed themselves in order. which was locked. then he was ordered to alight and the gendarmes on each side of him followed his example. had not the deputy. between the gendarmes. The boat continued her voyage. in the Frioul and outside the inner harbor. In an instant he was placed in the stern-sheets of the boat. trained in discipline. The most vague and wild thoughts passed through his mind. as Dantes knew. Besides. They advanced towards a boat. the chain that closes the mouth of the port was lowered and in a second they were. The officer opened the door. where he had that morning been so happy. and so he remained silent. answered Dantes' question. this seemed a good augury. while the officer stationed himself at the bow. This manoeuvre was incomprehensible to Dantes. near the quay. "You will soon know.

on the right. An intervening elevation of land hid the light. and I promise you on my honor I will submit to my fate. his eyes fixed upon the light. they had shipped their oars and hoisted sail." said he. for it was there Mercedes dwelt. the only proof against him? He waited silently." "I swear to you it is true.-"You are a native of Marseilles. the boat went on. thought accused of treason. and yet you do not know where you are going?" "On my honor." "Have you no idea whatever?" "None at all. and a sailor. Dantes turned to the nearest gendarme. 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. the boat was now moving with the wind." The gendarme looked irresolutely at his companion. "I see no great harm in telling him now. They had left the Ile Ratonneau. to tell me where we are going." "Your orders do not forbid your telling me what I must know in ten . tell me where you are conducting me. a loyal Frenchman. and were now opposite the Point des Catalans. who returned for answer a sign that said." and the gendarme replied. and taking his hand. and Dantes saw that it came from Mercedes' chamber. Dantes turned and perceived that they had got out to sea.-"Comrade. I am Captain Dantes. A loud cry could be heard by her. but the prisoner thought only of Mercedes." "But my orders.Villefort in his presence destroyed the fatal letter. What would his guards think if they heard him shout like a madman? He remained silent. It seemed to the prisoner that he could distinguish a feminine form on the beach. striving to pierce through the darkness. I entreat. "I adjure you. In spite of his repugnance to address the guards. Mercedes was the only one awake in the whole settlement." "That is impossible. But pride restrained him and he did not utter it. where the lighthouse stood. as a Christian and a soldier. Tell me. While he had been absorbed in thought. I have no idea.

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

an under-jailer. They seemed awaiting orders. Dantes made no resistance. "Let him follow me. and showed Dantes the features of his conductor. he heard the measured tread of sentinels. "Here. who felt the muzzle against his temple. Certain Dantes could not escape. perhaps." replied the gendarmes. but gnashing his At this moment the boat came to a landing with a violent shock." "Go!" said the gendarmes. He looked around. thrusting Dantes forward. but all this indistinctly as through a mist. and that the door closed behind him. his mind. death a gendarme seemed too terrible. taking him by the arms and coat-collar. a cord creaked as it ran through a pulley." And he levelled his carbine at Dantes. while the police officer carrying a musket with fixed bayonet followed behind. To-morrow. They halted for a minute. that terrible barrier against freedom. besides. and that they were mooring the boat. a lamp placed on a stool illumined the apartment faintly. ill-clothed. "It is late. and as they passed before the light he saw the barrels of their muskets shine. de Villefort's promise. I will take him to his cell. In the . "Here is your chamber for to-night. and Dantes guessed they were at the end of the voyage. in a boat from the hand of motionless. He did not even see the ocean. For a moment the idea of struggling crossed the unexpected evil that had overtaken him." said he. One of the sailors leaped on shore. which the prisoners look upon with utter despair. he was conscious that he passed through a door. They waited upwards of ten minutes. the gendarmes released him. who led him into a room almost under ground. whose bare and reeking walls seemed as though impregnated with tears. during which he strove to collect his thoughts. he knew vaguely that he was ascending a flight of steps. he may change you. and of so ending But he bethought him of M. he was like a man in a dream: he saw soldiers drawn up on the embankment. and of sullen appearance. forced him to rise. and. he was in a court surrounded by high walls. "Where is the prisoner?" said a voice. and the governor is asleep. His guards. He remained teeth and wringing his hands with fury. The orders came.blow your brains out. The prisoner followed his guide. and dragged him towards the steps that lead to the gate of the fortress.

but the door closed. the jailer came again. concealed himself until the arrival of a Genoese or Spanish vessel. and asking himself what crime he had committed that he was thus punished. . and that is all a prisoner can wish for. and. that impregnable fortress. weeping bitterly. that during his journey hither he had sat so still. and Spanish like a Castilian." replied Dantes. whereas he was now confined in the Chateau d'If. and stretched forth his hands towards the open door. Dantes followed him with his eyes." And before Dantes could open his mouth--before he had noticed where the jailer placed his bread or the water--before he had glanced towards the corner where the straw was. He spoke Italian like a Tuscan. The jailer advanced. "Have you not slept?" said the jailer. have plunged into the sea. He touched him on the shoulder. water. All his emotion then burst forth. Dantes appeared not to perceive him. for which he was famous. but walked round and round the cell like a wild beast in its cage. The day passed thus. ignorant of the future destiny of his father and Mercedes. leaving stamped upon the prisoner's mind the dim reflection of the dripping walls of his dungeon. his eyes swollen with weeping. and happy with Mercedes and his father. the jailer disappeared. and all this because he had trusted to Villefort's promise. whereas he might. Dantes was alone in darkness and in silence--cold as the shadows that he felt breathe on his burning forehead. he cast himself on the ground. have gained the shore. He had passed the night standing." "Do you wish for anything?" "I wish to see the governor. escaped to Spain or Italy. as if fixed there. with orders to leave Dantes where he was. "Are you hungry?" continued he. "I do not know. and fresh straw. taking with him the lamp and closing the door. he would have been free. Goodnight." The jailer shrugged his shoulders and left the chamber.meantime there is bread. Edmond started. He had no fears as to how he should live--good seamen are welcome everywhere. he scarcely tasted food. The next morning at the same hour. He found the prisoner in the same position. "I do not know. and Dantes threw himself furiously down on his straw. With the first dawn of day the jailer returned. The jailer stared. where Mercedes and his father could have joined him. and without sleep. The thought was maddening. a dozen times. One thought in particular tormented him: namely. thanks to his powers of swimming.

"how long shall I have to wait?" "Ah. books. "are you more reasonable to-day?" Dantes made no reply." said the jailer."Well. and leave to walk about. and some day you will meet the governor. cheer up. or you will be mad in a fortnight. but I wish to see the governor. I shall die of hunger--that is all. is there anything that I can do for you?" "I wish to see the governor. and do not care to walk about. it was by always offering a million of francs to the governor for his liberty that an abbe became mad. that is his affair. he replied in a more subdued tone." "Why so?" "Because it is against prison rules. and as every prisoner is worth ten sous a day to his jailer. I will not bring you any more to eat. and if he chooses to reply. "What you ask is impossible. then?" "Better fare. "if you do not. a month--six months--a year. who was in this chamber before you." "Well. "do not always brood over what is impossible. if you pay for it." "I have already told you it was impossible. then. I am satisfied with my food." "If you worry me by repeating the same thing." "You think so?" "Yes." "Ah. I wish to see him at once." "But." ." "What is allowed. we have an instance here." said the jailer. "Come." said Edmond. and prisoners must not even ask for it." "It is too long a time. but if you are very well behaved you will be allowed to walk about." asked Dantes." The jailer saw by his tone he would be happy to die." "I do not want books.

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

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

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

hearing no news of her lover." "You will find them both here. It was Mercedes. he pushed by her. Dantes had spoken of Mercedes. "The young man you speak of. and when she inquired what had become of her lover. a servant entered. "But." said Villefort abruptly. and sank into a chair. I must be on the road in a quarter of an hour. she advanced and stood before him. and Villefort instantly recognized her. as if to exclude the pain he felt. And desirous of putting an end to the interview." Villefort hastily quitted the apartment. "I do not know. and. he resumed his ordinary pace." Mercedes burst into tears. As Villefort drew near. and he the accused." said the marquis. "I shall be gone only a few moments. go. and. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him. . had come unobserved to inquire after him. that I may know whether he is alive or dead." "Be as quick as possible. "Say to the Comte de Salvieux that I would like to see him. at least. whom I leave on such a day with great regret. it seemed to him that she was the judge." "A thousand thanks--and now for the letter." "Tell your coachman to stop at the door. and closed the door. he carried the arrow in his wound. arrived at the salon." "You will present my excuses to the marquise and Mademoiselle Renee. he is no longer in my hands. then."In that case go and get ready. like Virgil's wounded hero. I will call Salvieux and make him write the letter." The marquis rang. But remorse is not thus banished. Villefort uttered a sigh that was almost a sob." "Now. At his door he perceived a figure in the shadow that seemed to wait for him. "is a great criminal. as Villefort strove to pass her. and can make your farewells in person. who. again addressed him." said she. tell me where he is. mademoiselle. and I can do nothing for him." replied Villefort. but reflecting that the sight of the deputy procureur running through the streets would be enough to throw the whole city into confusion.

leading his affianced bride by the hand. he sprang into the carriage. Fernand. If at this moment the sweet voice of Renee had sounded in his ears pleading for mercy. not such as the ancients figured. or the fair Mercedes had entered and said. but she paid no heed to . and bringing with him remorse. and fill him with vague apprehensions. and which had hitherto been unknown to him. only close to reopen more agonizing than ever. her emotions were wholly personal: she was thinking only of Villefort's departure. that innocent victim immolated on the altar of his father's faults. stood motionless an instant. de Saint-Meran's. furious and terrible. As he thus reflected. at least. As the marquis had promised. from his chair. Meanwhile what of Mercedes? She had met Fernand at the corner of the Rue de la Loge.Then the first pangs of an unending torture seized upon his heart. perceiving that his servant had placed his cloak on his shoulders. but the executioner. he believed so. Villefort found the marquise and Renee in waiting. He started when he saw Renee. and then. far from pleading for Dantes. He had frequently called for capital punishment on criminals." his cold and trembling hands would have signed his release. for he fancied she was again about to plead for Dantes. and covered it with kisses that Mercedes did not even feel. she had returned to the Catalans. but no voice broke the stillness of the chamber. took her hand. and owing to his irresistible eloquence they had been condemned. hated the man whose crime separated her from her lover. I conjure you to restore me my affianced husband. arise in his bosom. or rather sprang. She loved Villefort. he felt the sensation we have described. because they were guilty. or if they do. and yet the slightest shadow of remorse had never clouded Villefort's brow. and had despairingly cast herself on her couch. but here was an innocent man whose happiness he had destroyed: in this case he was not the judge. The man he sacrificed to his ambition. who came to tell him that the travelling carriage was in readiness. but that slow and consuming agony whose pangs are intensified from hour to hour up to the very moment of death. It is thus that a wounded man trembles instinctively at the approach of the finger to his wound until it be healed. muttered a few inarticulate sounds. Villefort rose. The lamp went out for want of oil. and Renee. ordering the postilions to drive to M. Alas. appeared to him pale and threatening. hastily opened one of the drawers of his desk. his hand pressed to his head. kneeling by her side. Then he had a moment's hesitation. "In the name of God. but Villefort's was one of those that never close. emptied all the gold it contained into his pocket. She passed the night thus. and the door was opened only by Villefort's valet. The hapless Dantes was doomed. Villefort knew not when he should return. and he left her at the moment he was about to become her husband.

fantastic dust.the darkness." returned Fernand sorrowfully. to aid Dantes. and an inkstand in place of a heart. Morrel. He had learned that Dantes had been taken to prison. Danglars alone was content and joyous--he had got rid of an enemy and made his own situation on the Pharaon secure. Grief had made her blind to all but one object--that was Edmond. and he had gone to all his friends. while spectres danced in the light of the unsnuffed candle--spectres such as Hoffmann strews over his punch-drenched pages. Danglars was one of those men born with a pen behind the ear. kissed the marquise's hand. and had returned home in despair. especially when. declaring that the matter was serious and that nothing more could be done. M.. he had shut himself up with two bottles of black currant brandy. and dawn came. de Salvieux' letter. but instead of seeking. after having received M. enter at the Tuileries the little room with the arched window. he met with nothing but refusal. and passing through two or three apartments. and shaken that of the marquis. you are there. Morrel had not readily given up the fight. Everything with him was multiplication or subtraction. Villefort. "I have not quitted you since yesterday. . The King's Closet at the Tuileries. Caderousse was equally restless and uneasy. by taking it away. in the hope of drowning reflection. turning towards Fernand. "Ah. and as the most sanguine looked upon any attempt of Napoleon to remount the throne as impossible. and slept in peace. and became too intoxicated to fetch any more drink. he could increase the sum total of his own desires. started for Paris along the Aix road. and the influential persons of the city. at length. but she knew not that it was day. He went to bed at his usual hour. travelling--thanks to trebled fees--with all speed. Chapter 10. and now of Louis Philippe. like M. Old Dantes was dying with anxiety to know what had become of Edmond." said she. The life of a man was to him of far less value than a numeral. But we know very well what had become of Edmond. so well known as having been the favorite closet of Napoleon and Louis XVIII. With his elbows on the table he sat between the two empty bottles. and yet not so intoxicated as to forget what had happened. like black. but the report was already in circulation that Dantes was arrested as a Bonapartist agent. We will leave Villefort on the road to Paris. But he did not succeed. embraced Renee.

." replied Louis XVIII." ." "Really. but much sought-after. scarcity is not a thing to be feared. liked a pleasant jest. "Sire." "Then of what other scourge are you afraid. from one of those fancies not uncommon to great people. "I think you are wrongly informed. sire. at least. my dear Blacas?" "Sire. "You say. sire. continuing the annotations in his Horace. he was particularly attached. "Sire. laughing." "My dear Blacas. will your majesty send into Languedoc." "Well. Provence. it is very fine weather in that direction." continued M." "By whom?" "By Bonaparte. "your majesty may be perfectly right in relying on the good feeling of France. with gray hair. on the contrary. seated before a walnut table he had brought with him from Hartwell. or. sir"--said the king. for that would only betoken for us seven years of plenty and seven years of scarcity. edition of Horace--a work which was much indebted to the sagacious observations of the philosophical monarch. and know positively that. who will bring you back a faithful report as to the feeling in these three provinces?" "Caninus surdis. in order that he might seem to comprehend the quotation. the king." Man of ability as he was." replied the king. was carelessly listening to a man of fifty or fifty-two years of age.. and meanwhile making a marginal note in a volume of Gryphius's rather inaccurate. I have every reason to believe that a storm is brewing in the south. and exceedingly gentlemanly attire. aristocratic bearing. and to which. "you with your alarms prevent me from working." said the king. and Dauphine.There. Louis XVIII. by his adherents. trusty men. but I fear I am not altogether wrong in dreading some desperate attempt. de Blacas. have you had a vision of the seven fat kine and the seven lean kine?" "No. Louis XVIII. my dear duke." replied the courtier. "That I am exceedingly disquieted. "if it only be to reassure a faithful servant. and with a king as full of foresight as your majesty.

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

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

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

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

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

and he went on:-"Sire. that it is not irreparable." "Speak as fully as you please." "And where is this man?" "In prison. and pray begin at the beginning. but this mission was to prepare men's minds for a return (it is the man who says this." said Villefort. Your majesty is well aware that the sovereign of the Island of Elba has maintained his relations with Italy and France?" "I am. sir. that when the circumstance surprised me in the midst of a family festival. on the very day of my betrothal. "I will render a faithful report to your majesty. but I must entreat your forgiveness if my anxiety leads to some obscurity in my language. Sire. At this moment he will have left Elba. "Speak. which. to inform your majesty that I have discovered. he meditates some project. such as is every day got up in the lower ranks of the people and in the army. in the exercise of my duties. a sailor. sire. terrible. whose name I could not extract from him. sire)--a return which will soon occur. I like order in everything." "And the matter seems serious to you?" "So serious. by the speed I have used. There he saw the grand-marshal. who charged him with an oral message to a Bonapartist in Paris. of turbulent character. sir. who began to give way to the emotion which had showed itself in Blacas's face and affected Villefort's voice. the usurper is arming three ships. has been secretly to the Island of Elba. How did you obtain these details?" "Sire. assured Villefort of the benignity of his august auditor. I beg of you. is yet." "Sire. I left my bride . This person.in your opinion as I am asked to believe?" "Sire. I believe it to be most urgent. but I hope." said the king. whom I have watched for some time. but assuredly to attempt a landing either at Naples." said the king. sir. sire. but an actual conspiracy--a storm which menaces no less than your majesty's throne. much agitated. to go whither I know not." A glance at the king after this discreet and subtle exordium. "and recently we have had information that the Bonapartist clubs have had meetings in the Rue Saint-Jacques. I have come as rapidly to Paris as possible. they are the results of an examination which I have made of a man of Marseilles. not a commonplace and insignificant plot. and arrested on the day of my departure. or perhaps on the shores of France. perhaps. But proceed. however mad. or on the coast of Tuscany. and whom I suspected of Bonapartism.

and friends. pushed from him violently the table at which he was sitting. that I might hasten to lay at your majesty's feet the fears which impressed me. Villefort was about to retire. de Blacas has told me. The Corsican Ogre. baron?" he exclaimed." "Yes. if he land in Tuscany. "Sire"--stammered the baron. we have our eyes open at once upon the past. yes. re-established so recently on the throne of our ancestors. "What ails you. de Villefort. I fear it is more than a plot. "was there not a marriage engagement between you and Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran?" "Daughter of one of your majesty's most faithful servants. At this instant the minister of police appeared at the door. "You appear quite aghast.. in order to watch the shore of the Mediterranean. was about to throw himself at the feet of Louis XVIII. but more difficult to conduct to an end." "True. "Well." said Louis XVIII. but the fright of the courtier pleaded for the forbearance of the statesman. pale. as matters were." "A conspiracy in these times. who retreated a step and frowned. but at the same time rely on our royal gratitude. sir. what is it?" asked Louis XVIII. The minister of police. "is a thing very easy to meditate. execrated as he is by the population. M. he will be in an unfriendly territory. and besides." "Ah. and M. if he land in France. but M. de Blacas. and the result of that is easily foretold. but let us talk of this plot. restrained him. For the last ten months my ministers have redoubled their vigilance. it must be with a handful of men. and as if ready to faint. the whole coalition would be on foot before he could even reach Piomoino." "Sire. . and the assurance of my devotion." said Louis XVIII. the present.. Take courage. de Blacas moved suddenly towards the baron. smiling. inasmuch as.. Has your uneasiness anything to do with what M. postponing everything. At the sight of this agitation Louis XVIII. If Bonaparte landed at Naples. Dandre!" cried de Blacas. Chapter 11. giving way to an impulse of despair. and the future. de Villefort has just confirmed?" M. trembling. it was much more to his advantage that the prefect of police should triumph over him than that he should humiliate the prefect. here is M. taking his hand. I fear it is a conspiracy.

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

you do not know! Have you neglected to obtain information on that point? Of course it is of no consequence." "Then. you are right--it is fatality!" The minister quailed before this outburst of sarcasm. "What. was too much for any human strength to endure. "he was well informed. but the feeling in Dauphine is quite the reverse of that in Provence or Languedoc." answered the minister of police. I have. de Blacas wiped the moisture from his brow. sire. who ought to watch over me more carefully than over themselves. Villefort smiled within himself. We have learnt nothing. the power I hold in my hands bursts. when I see the fruition of my wishes almost within reach. during those five-and-twenty years. "Sire. A miracle of heaven replaced me on the throne of my fathers after five-and-twenty years of exile.-"By the telegraph. and while a deep color overspread his cheeks. The minister bowed his head. the despatch simply stated the fact of the landing and the route taken by the usurper. however light a thing to destiny. feeling that the pressure of circumstances. "seven conjoined and allied armies overthrew that man." murmured Louis. And how many men had he with him?" "I do not know." "And how did this despatch reach you?" inquired the king. sir?" inquired the king. turning pale with anger."And Dauphine. advanced a step." he added. sire. he stammered out. "What our enemies say of us is then true. "So then. and perish miserably from incapacity--ineptitude! Oh. "Do you think it possible to rouse that as well as Provence?" "Sire. it was impossible to learn. yes.--for my fortune is theirs--before me they were nothing--after me they will be nothing. and folded his arms over his chest as Napoleon would have done. and shatters me to atoms!" "Sire. and now. sir. of Villefort."--Louis XVIII. I am sorry to tell your majesty a cruel fact. with a withering smile. sire. it is fatality!" murmured the minister. for he felt his increased importance." he exclaimed. M. I would console myself. spared no pains to understand the people of France and the interests which were confided to me. . The mountaineers are Bonapartists. but to be in the midst of persons elevated by myself to places of honor. forgotten nothing! If I were betrayed as he was.

see. you know not its power in France. have been overcome by such an intoxicating draught of praise. instead of aiding to crush him. had been unable to unearth Napoleon's secret. de Villefort insignificant. he had the power of directing a telegraph." "Really impossible! Yes--that is a great word. but he feared to make for himself a mortal enemy of the police minister. only a simple magistrate. perhaps." resumed the king. sir. the minister. who at the first glance had sounded the abyss on which the monarchy hung suspended. and learn of that fall by telegraph! Oh. "Sire. "the suddenness of this event must prove to your majesty that the issue is in the hands of Providence. Villefort understood the king's intent. spies. agents. in the plenitude of his power. who bent his head in modest triumph. there are great words. although he saw that Dandre was irrevocably lost." murmured the minister. In fact." continued Louis XVIII. Realizing this." The look of the minister of police was turned with concentrated spite on Villefort.--"to fall. and who would have saved my crown. addressing the young man. at least you have had the good sense to persevere in your suspicions. "Approach." continued King Louis. and tell monsieur that it is possible to know beforehand all that he has not known. who." said Villefort. Villefort came to the rescue of the crest-fallen minister. and fifteen hundred thousand francs for secret service money. who. Any other than yourself would have considered the disclosure of M. Louis XVI. Really impossible for a minister who has an office. what your majesty is pleased to attribute to me as profound perspicacity is simply owing . Blacas. sire. and yet you ought to know it!" "Sire. than thus descend the staircase at the Tuileries driven away by ridicule. might in despair at his own downfall interrogate Dantes and so lay bare the motives of Villefort's plot. then.. I would rather mount the scaffold of my brother. motionless and breathless. was listening to a conversation on which depended the destiny of a kingdom. "I do not mean that for you. or else dictated by venal ambition. who learned more than you with all your police." "Sire. "for pity's"-"Approach. Ridicule. like you. sir--why."To fall. to know what is going on at sixty leagues from the coast of France! Well." These words were an allusion to the sentiments which the minister of police had uttered with so much confidence an hour before. here is a gentleman who had none of these resources at his disposal--a gentleman. de Villefort. I have measured them. Any other person would. it was really impossible to learn secrets which that man concealed from all the world. "for if you have discovered nothing. Unfortunately. as there are great men. if. M..

sir." "On the contrary. sire. baron. as we first believed. that without forfeiting the gratitude of the king.--on the contrary. but did not catch the number. "Everything points to the conclusion. Yet. when your majesty's attention was attracted by the terrible event that has occurred in the gulf. your majesty knows how every report confirms their loyalty and attachment.to chance." resumed the king. he had made a friend of one on whom. and now these facts will cease to interest your majesty. what have you learned with regard to the affair in the Rue Saint-Jacques?" "The affair in the Rue Saint-Jacques!" exclaimed Villefort. for that is too deeply engraved in my heart." said Louis XVIII." At the name of General Quesnel. but my devotion to your majesty has made me forget. to me. General Quesnel." "Go on. sire. "you have to-day earned the right to make inquiries here." said the minister of police." said M. Then. not the respect I have. Do not attribute to me more than I deserve. suddenly pausing. "And now. unfortunately. had just left a Bonapartist club when he disappeared.. and you may retire. he added. sire." "Sire." "Fortunately. and I have profited by that chance. speaking of reports. and Villefort understood that he had succeeded in his design. "'Tis well. go on. it appears. that is to say. sire. "Your pardon. sir. in case of necessity. and the death of General Quesnel will. perhaps." he continued. for I know now what confidence to place in them. de Blacas. duke. "I came a moment ago to give your majesty fresh information which I had obtained on this head. who was dressing his hair at the moment when the stranger entered. put us on the direct track of a great internal conspiracy. de Blacas and the minister of police. but of assassination." The minister of police thanked the young man by an eloquent look. like a good and devoted servant--that's all. but the rules of etiquette. Villefort trembled. he might rely. gentlemen." "Do not mention reports." As the police minister related ." replied the king. and made an appointment with him in the Rue Saint-Jacques." interposed the minister of police. turning towards M. "that death was not the result of suicide. unable to repress an exclamation. the general's valet. what now remains to do is in the department of the minister of war. that your majesty may never have occasion to recall the first opinion you have been pleased to form of me. An unknown person had been with him that morning. "we can rely on the army. heard the street mentioned. "this affair seems to me to have a decided connection with that which occupies our attention. "I have no further occasion for you.

" "But you have seen him?" . General Quesnel." continued the king. "Yes." said the king to the minister of police. de Villefort. shall be cruelly punished. I will no longer detain you. and a thick mustache. M.'" "Sire. sire." Villefort leaned on the back of an arm-chair. he breathed again. his assassins. who looked as if his very life hung on the speaker's lips. M. Of course you stopped at your father's?" A feeling of faintness came over Villefort. 'And we are on the track of the guilty persons. "But is this all that is known?" "They are on the track of the man who appointed the meeting with him. with black eyes covered with shaggy eyebrows. Villefort. "Continue to seek for this man. for as the minister of police went on speaking he felt his legs bend under him. but he was lost sight of at the corner of the Rue de la Jussienne and the Rue Coq-Heron. go and rest." he replied. "How strange. "the police think that they have disposed of the whole matter when they say. who would have been so useful to us at this moment. He is a man of from fifty to fifty-two years of age.this to the king." "On his track?" said Villefort. has perished the victim of a Bonapartist ambush?" "It is probable. de Villefort. but who was really entirely devoted to me. The king looked towards him. be amply satisfied on this point at least.' and especially so when they can add. your majesty will. in the Rue de Tournon. with some asperity. has been murdered. He was dressed in a blue frock-coat. "No. as I am all but convinced. the servant has given his description. Yesterday a person exactly corresponding with this description was followed. and wore at his button-hole the rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor. that General Quesnel. 'A murder has been committed." It required all Villefort's coolness not to betray the terror with which this declaration of the king inspired him." "We shall see. "for if. but when he learned that the unknown had escaped the vigilance of the agent who followed him. "I alighted at the Hotel de Madrid. turned alternately red and pale. dark." replied Villefort. whom they believed attached to the usurper. "Do you not think with me. sire. I trust. Bonapartists or not. sir. for you must be fatigued after so long a journey. buttoned up to the chin.

whose career was ended. send for the minister of war." "Ma foi. Lazare. sir. you may be of the greatest service to me at Marseilles. sir. saluting the minister. we will not forget you. above the order of Notre-Dame-du-Mont-Carmel and St. make your mind easy. . smiling in a manner which proved that all these questions were not made without a motive." replied Villefort. I went straight to the Duc de Blacas. sir. de Villefort. as they left the Tuileries."Sire." "Sire. "in an hour I shall have quitted Paris. In the meanwhile" (the king here detached the cross of the Legion of Honor which he usually wore over his blue coat. do not be afraid to bring yourself to my recollection. he took the cross and kissed it." "Ah. Blacas. then?" "I think not. and gave it to Villefort)--"in the meanwhile take this cross." said Louis XVIII. bowing. and looking about him for a hackney-coach. for I have not the time to procure you another." "Sire." said the minister of police to Villefort. and for which you should be recompensed." said Villefort. "And now. "and should I forget you (kings' memories are short). near the cross of St." Villefort's eyes were filled with tears of joy and pride. and that is another sacrifice made to the royal cause." "Ah." said Louis. remain. let it be your care to see that the brevet is made out and sent to M. Blacas. sire. Noirtier are not on the best terms possible. Louis. "you entered by luck's door--your fortune is made. "take it. and remember that if you are not able to serve me here in Paris." said the king." "But you will see him. "I forgot you and M.. Baron." "Never mind. "your majesty mistakes. such as it is." "Will it be long first?" muttered Villefort. I forgot. "may I inquire what are the orders with which your majesty deigns to honor me?" "Take what rest you require." he said." "Sire. the kindness your majesty deigns to evince towards me is a recompense which so far surpasses my utmost ambition that I have nothing more to ask for. this is an officer's cross." "Go.

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

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

and which I discovered in the pocket-book of the messenger." "Father. three days ago the emperor had not landed. father. yes. they induced General Quesnel to go there. and knew it even before you could." "Ah. Why."No." "And who told you this fine story?" "The king himself. who quitted his own house at nine o'clock in the evening." Villefort's father laughed." "My dear father. "will the Restoration adopt imperial methods so promptly? Shot. I heard this news. when a man has been proscribed has escaped from Paris in a hay-cart." said he. then. your coolness makes me shudder. and General Quesnel. I think I already know what you are about to tell me. "Come. you have heard of the landing of the emperor?" "Not so loud. Yes. half-desperate at the enforced delay. But go on. 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. my dear father." continued Noirtier. he becomes things." "No matter. "I will tell you another. I was aware of his intention." "To me?" "To you." "I burnt it. come. was found the next day in the Seine. for three days ago I posted from Marseilles to Paris with all possible speed. Had that letter fallen into the hands of another. over the plains of accustomed to most Saint-Jacques?" "Why. I entreat of you--for your own sake as well as mine. would probably ere this have been shot. for that ." "Three days ago? You are crazy." "Well." "Why. for fear that even a fragment should remain. 53. in return for your story." "How did you know about it?" "By a letter addressed to you from the Island of Elba. I am vice-president. what about the club in the Rue by the mountaineers. my dear boy. you. been hunted Bordeaux by Robespierre's bloodhounds.

that the track is lost. my dear fellow. this was murder in every sense of the word. having thrown themselves in." "I do better than that. But I have nothing to fear while I have you to protect me. etc. People are found every day in the Seine. you know very well that the general was not a man to drown himself in despair. When he had heard and comprehended all to the . but ideas--no feelings. you know. "yes. It was thought reliance might be placed in General Quesnel." replied Noirtier. really. but they have found a corpse. no. and in all countries they call that a murder. and the plan was unfolded to him for leaving Elba. No." "I must refer again to the club in the Rue Saint-Jacques. the projected landing. but interests. or having been drowned from not knowing how to swim. Would you like to know how matters have progressed? Well. he was recommended to us from the Island of Elba. there are no men.letter must have led to your condemnation. where he would find some friends." "A murder do you call it? why. the thing becomes more and more dramatic--explain yourself. and invited him to the Rue Saint-Jacques." "You do? Why." "And who thus designated it?" "The king himself. sir--I save you. but they are on the track. there is nothing to prove that the general was murdered. do not be deceived. that the usual phrase." "It appears that this club is rather a bore to the police." "Father. as well as I do." "Yes. When the police is at fault. He came there. with a sneaking air. Why didn't they search more vigilantly? they would have found"-"They have not found. In politics. we only remove an obstacle. that is all. I can easily comprehend that. the general has been killed. in politics we do not kill a man." "The king! I thought he was philosopher enough to allow that there was no murder in politics." "And the destruction of your future prospects. one of us went to him. I am quite familiar with it." "Yes. and people do not bathe in the Seine in the month of January. I will tell you. and the government patiently awaits the day when it comes to say. it declares that it is on the track.

'The usurper has landed at Cannes with several men." "Grenoble and Lyons are faithful cities.' But where is he? what is he doing? You do not know at all. in spite of that. that's all. and on the 20th or 25th at Paris. 'My son. on the 10th or 12th he will be at Lyons. but with such an ill grace that it was really tempting Providence to swear him. and in this way they will chase him to Paris." "Grenoble will open her gates to him with enthusiasm--all Lyons will hasten to welcome him. you wished to conceal your journey from me. it will be our turn. take care." "Yes. and did so. and armies will be despatched against him. he will not advance two leagues into the interior of France without being followed. you have committed a murder?' No. I said. he replied that he was a royalist. Would you like a proof of it? well. you surprise me. and our police are as good as your own.'" "But. the general was allowed to depart free--perfectly free. a deputy procureur. tracked. we are as well informed as you. and yet. my dear fellow.--he was made to take an oath. Yet he did not return home. you are but a child. the emperor is at this moment on the way to Grenoble. my dear Gerard. and yet I knew of your ." "The people will rise. and will oppose to him an impassable barrier. Believe me. perchance. and cut off the head of one of my party. Villefort." "You are mistaken." "Yes. without drawing a trigger. that on leaving us he lost his way. What could that mean? why. He is pursued. Really. You. father. to-morrow. to found an accusation on such bad premises! Did I ever say to you." "My dear fellow." "I do not understand you. three days after the landing. and caught like a wild beast. you have gained the victory. sir. you think yourself well informed because the telegraph has told you." "He has but a handful of men with him. 'Very well. to go and meet him. when our turn comes. to escort him into the capital." "You rely on the usurper's return?" "We do. A murder? really. Then all looked at each other. our revenge will be sweeping.fullest extent. when you were fulfilling your character as a royalist.

" "Say on. buttoned up to the chin. "one word more. and a cane. eyebrows. fork. have they? And what may be that description?" "Dark complexion. I believe. they do know one terrible thing. You gave your direction to no one but your postilion. rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honor in his button-hole." said the young man. hair.arrival half an hour after you had passed the barrier. a hat with wide brim. on the morning of the day when General Quesnel disappeared. to summon the servant whom his son had not called. Ring. looking at his father with astonishment. have those which devotion prompts. is it?" said Noirtier." "What is that?" "The description of the man who. but they may catch him yet. for that is. then. and we will dine together. then. have they not laid hands on him?" "Because yesterday. ha. presented himself at his house. and plate. with a sneer." "Didn't I say that your police were good for nothing?" "Yes. "Yes. and in proof I am here the very instant you are going to sit at table. the phrase for hopeful ambition. devotion." "Eh? the thing is simple enough. "you really do seem very well informed. if you please. or the day before. You who are in power have only the means that money produces--we who are in expectation. Villefort caught his arm." "Oh. that's it. blue frock-coat. yet I have your address." . black." And Villefort's father extended his hand to the bell-rope." "Devotion!" said Villefort. "and why." "Indeed!" replied Villefort." "However stupid the royalist police may be. for a second knife. they lost sight of him at the corner of the Rue Coq-Heron." "Ah. the admirable police have found that out. "Wait. my dear father. and whiskers.

and walked about with that easy swagger which was one of his principal characteristics." continued Noirtier. what should I say to the king?" "Say this to him: 'Sire. father. cut off the compromising whiskers."True. when this disguise was completed. "You are not convinced yet?" "I hope at least. and put off his frock-coat and cravat. put on. "I rely on your prudence to remove all the things which I leave in your care. my dear boy." stammered Villefort. you are deceived as to the feeling in France." "And now." said Noirtier. "He will consequently make a few changes in his personal appearance." "Well. with a firm hand. took." and he added with a smile. cut the air with it once or twice. yes. do you think your police will recognize me now. he took up a small bamboo switch. . turning towards his wondering son. instead of his black cravat. rely on me. lathered his face. and that you have really saved my life." "No. in lieu of his blue and high-buttoned frock-coat. "Yes. went towards a table on which lay his son's toilet articles. be assured I will return the favor hereafter. if this person were not on his guard. but some day they do them justice. took a razor." said Villefort. father. "true." "Shall you see the king again?" "Perhaps. and supposing a second restoration. you would then pass for a great man. "well. and." "Oh. and now I believe you are right. "Well. Noirtier gave another turn to his hair." Villefort shook his head. and cut away in front. I hope not. a coat of Villefort's of dark brown." "True. tried on before the glass a narrow-brimmed hat of his son's." At these words he rose. which appeared to fit him perfectly." "Would you pass in his eyes for a prophet?" "Prophets of evil are not in favor at the court. and." he said. Villefort watched him with alarm not devoid of admiration. looking carelessly around him. that you may be mistaken. His whiskers cut off. as he is. "at least. leaving his cane in the corner where he had deposited it. a colored neckerchief which lay at the top of an open portmanteau.

but by right of conquest. not by purchase. submissive. and will probably remain without a counterpart in the future. Gerard. breathless. a return which was unprecedented in the past. Every one knows the history of the famous return from Elba. with the same calmness that had characterized him during the whole of this remarkable and trying conversation. we will keep you in your place. or. or. M. above all. checked with a look the thousand questions he was ready to ask. for this time. rather. at length reached Marseilles. Go. Chapter 13. gather like atoms of snow about the rolling ball as it hastens onward. and in the midst of the tumult which prevailed along the road. not that you incur any risk. This will be. sire. broke the cane into small bits and flung it in the fire. inoffensive. put on his travelling-cap. Noirtier was a true prophet. leave France to its real master. friendly counsels. The Hundred Days. worn out with fatigue. if you prefer it. quiet. and emperor at Grenoble. which was ready. put the black cravat and blue frock-coat at the bottom of the portmanteau. until his father had disappeared at the Rue Bussy. Then he turned to the various articles he had left behind him. and cast you aloft while hurling me down. go. Sire. and at your next journey alight at my door. who were there. and calling his valet. as he had predicted. a prey to all the hopes and fears which enter into the heart of man with ambition and its first successes. tell him nothing. my dear Gerard. but because it would be humiliating for a grandson of Saint Louis to owe his life to the man of Arcola. he whom in Paris you call the Corsican ogre. go. pursued. Villefort. ran to the window. and the prejudices of the army. and things progressed rapidly. captured. and a blue frock-coat.as to the opinions of the towns. cool and collected. The soldiers you believe to be dying with hunger. put aside the curtain. paid his bill. Marengo. and." Noirtier left the room when he had finished. my son--go. ready to desert. and your house by the back-door. Adieu. who at Nevers is styled the usurper. do not boast of what you have come to Paris to do. learned at Lyons that Bonaparte had entered Grenoble. secret. or have done. You think he is tracked." added Noirtier. he is advancing as rapidly as his own eagles. and there remain. perhaps. "one means by which you may a second time save me. Villefort stood watching. sprang into his carriage. threw the hat into a dark closet.' Tell him this. if the political balance should some day take another turn. we shall act like powerful men who know their enemies. Austerlitz. my dear Gerard. and by your obedience to my paternal orders. with a smile. to him who acquired it. for your adversary is powerful enough to show you mercy. is already saluted as Bonaparte at Lyons. I swear to you. by two or three ill-looking men at the corner of the street. pale and agitated. . and saw him pass. return with all speed. to arrest a man with black whiskers. and hat with broad brim. Keep your journey a secret. enter Marseilles at night.

The deputy-procureur was. and the marriage be still more suitable. when one morning his door opened. being suspected of royalism. for the simple reason that the king's procureur always makes every one wait.Louis XVIII. have deprived Villefort of his office had it not been for Noirtier. Morrel to be admitted. de Saint-Meran. The king's procureur alone was deprived of his office. If the emperor remained on the throne. he ordered M. because Morrel was a prudent and rather a timid man. scarcely had the emperor re-entered the Tuileries and begun to issue orders from the closet into which we have introduced our readers. and he knew this would be a sign of weakness. the worthy shipowner became at that moment--we will not say all powerful.'s half-filled snuff-box. the influence of M. Villefort. and full of that glacial . doubtless. Gerard required a different alliance to aid his career. but his marriage was put off until a more favorable opportunity. However. he found him as he had found him six weeks before. if Louis XVIII. who was all powerful at court. to rekindle the flames of civil war. which he had the prudence not to wear. therefore. scarcely was the imperial power established--that is. always smouldering in the south. Napoleon would. Morrel was announced.--scarcely had this occurred when Marseilles began. but Villefort was a man of ability. Villefort retained his place. that many of the most zealous partisans of Bonaparte accused him of "moderation"--but sufficiently influential to make a demand in favor of Dantes. the first magistrate of Marseilles. and it required but little to excite the populace to acts of far greater violence than the shouts and insults with which they assailed the royalists whenever they ventured abroad. the monarchy he had scarcely reconstructed tottered on its precarious foundation. like his own. and M. could be vastly increased. gained nothing save the king's gratitude (which was rather likely to injure him at the present time) and the cross of the Legion of Honor. and at a sign from the emperor the incongruous structure of ancient prejudices and new ideas fell to the ground. All Villefort's influence barely enabled him to stifle the secret Dantes had so nearly divulged. and after passing a quarter of an hour in reading the papers. Owing to this change.--he found on the table there Louis XVIII. and thus the Girondin of '93 and the Senator of 1806 protected him who so lately had been his protector. de Blacas had duly forwarded the brevet. Morrel expected Villefort would be dejected. although M. He made Morrel wait in the ante-chamber. so much so. therefore. in spite of the authorities. returned. calm. firm. although he had no one with him. made but a faint attempt to parry this unexpected blow. Any one else would have hastened to receive him.

-- .. on the contrary." said the magistrate. He stopped at the door. "and tell me to what circumstance I owe the honor of this visit. therefore. and you did not show any favor--it was your duty. with a patronizing wave of the hand. to ask what has become of him?" Villefort by a strong effort sought to control himself. "Dantes. "Yes. pray." "Yes." "Edmond Dantes. then. but he did not blanch." "Do you not guess. "Not in the least. turning to Morrel." Villefort opened a large register. "What is his name?" said he. during which the honest shipowner turned his hat in his hands." Villefort would probably have rather stood opposite the muzzle of a pistol at five-and-twenty paces than have heard this name spoken. I came to intercede for a young man. monsieur?" asked Morrel. "do you recollect that a few days before the landing of his majesty the emperor. and his head leaning on his hand. Villefort gazed at him as if he had some difficulty in recognizing him." said Morrel. I believe?" said Villefort. "Tell me his name. after a brief interval. who was accused of being concerned in correspondence with the Island of Elba? What was the other day a crime is to-day a title to favor. and then. the mate of my ship. You then served Louis XVIII." repeated he. and you ought to protect him--it is equally your duty." "Come nearer. but if I can serve you in any way I shall be delighted." "Monsieur. from the table turned to his registers." "Explain yourself." "Everything depends on you. "Edmond Dantes.politeness. that most insurmountable barrier which separates the well-bred from the vulgar man. Morrel. to-day you serve Napoleon.-"M. recovering his assurance as he proceeded. he felt a cold shudder all over him when he saw Villefort sitting there with his elbow on his desk. He had entered Villefort's office expecting that the magistrate would tremble at the sight of him. I come. monsieur. then went to a table. sir.

Oh. and I augur well for Edmond from it. he would have been surprised at the king's procureur answering him on such a subject. was conscious only of the other's condescension." replied Villefort. I have known him for ten years." "Do not be too hasty. You received me very coldly. or better versed in these matters. M. it was a very serious charge." "Wait a moment. "I like to hear you speak thus. as I come to-day to plead for justice. Morrel." said Morrel. "The order of imprisonment came from high authority. and a week after he was carried off." "Carried off!" said Morrel." "That's right!" cried Morrel. The miraculous return of Napoleon has conquered me. and the order for his liberation ."Are you quite sure you are not mistaken. the last four of which he was in my service. I came about six weeks ago to plead for clemency. because I believed the Bourbons not only the heirs to the throne. in the most natural tone in the world." "Come when he will. he has been taken to Fenestrelles. who was about to marry a young Catalan girl. Villefort had calculated rightly. the royalists were very severe with the Bonapartists in those days. it shall be kept for him. disappointed in his expectations of exciting fear. instead of referring him to the governors of the prison or the prefect of the department." "Monsieur. "I have it--a sailor. to Pignerol. but the chosen of the nation. I recollect now. monsieur?" said he." said Villefort. "No. or to the Sainte-Marguerite islands. the legitimate monarch is he who is loved by his people. But how is it he is not already returned? It seems to me the first care of government should be to set at liberty those who have suffered for their adherence to it. Had Morrel been a more quick-sighted man." returned Villefort." "How so?" "You know that when he left here he was taken to the Palais de Justice." "Well?" "I made my report to the authorities at Paris. Some fine morning he will return to take command of your vessel. turning over the leaves of a register. Do not you recollect. "I am not mistaken. But Morrel. "I was then a royalist. "What can they have done with him?" "Oh.

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

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

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

and that they wanted to be set free." said the governor. "who can live here?" "A most dangerous conspirator. one after another. The universal response was. the south was aflame.--sounds that at the depth where he lay would have been inaudible to any but the ear of a prisoner. "We must play the farce to the end. so humid. and respiration. that the fare was detestable. whose good behavior or stupidity recommended them to the clemency of the government. "Oh. A year after Louis XVIII.--always the same thing." replied the inspector. He inquired how they were fed. even on his death-bed. commit acts of useless violence. He guessed something uncommon was passing among the living. as to be loathsome to sight. a man we are ordered to keep the most strict watch over. They shook their heads.--ill fed and innocent." "Let us visit them. you see all. Chapter 14. What could they desire beyond their liberty? The inspector turned smilingly to the governor. 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. when you see one prisoner. Dantes in his cell heard the noise of preparation. The Two Prisoners." "Take all needful precautions. and if they had any request to make. and in order to be sentenced to death. The inspector asked if they had anything else to ask for." cried the inspector. the cells and dungeons of several of the prisoners. as he is daring and resolute. a visit was made by the inspector-general of prisons.'s restoration." . The inspector visited. Let us see the dungeons. so dark. was stigmatized as a crime. Are there any others?" "Yes. smell. Two soldiers were accordingly sent for. "I do not know what reason government can assign for these useless visits.There was more than benevolence in this action. but he had so long ceased to have any intercourse with the world. so foul." said the inspector with an air of fatigue." "Let us first send for two soldiers. and to assist. the dangerous and mad prisoners are in the dungeons. there was courage. "The prisoners sometimes. the father of so dangerous a Bonapartist as Dantes. and the inspector descended a stairway. and you might fall a victim. through mere uneasiness of life.

he now grows fat. and in 1813 he went mad. "and this remark proves that you have deeply considered the subject." returned the inspector. he grew thin." added he. and he signed to the turnkey to open the door. "He must be mad. "He is worse than that. "True enough." "I will see them both. the very one who is lighting us." "So much the better for him. for his madness is amusing. who took his food to him. You had better see him. formerly leader of a party in Italy." "How long his he been there?" "Nearly a year." replied the governor. and the . "Oh.--he is a devil!" returned the turnkey." "To kill the turnkey?" "Yes. he wished to display his authority." "Was he placed here when he first arrived?" "No." said the inspector. he wanted to kill me!" returned the turnkey. Besides. sir. and in every way fit for his office. and to which you descend by another stair. "I must conscientiously perform my duty. "Let us visit this one first." said the inspector. not until he attempted to kill the turnkey. Now we have in a dungeon about twenty feet distant. he now laughs."He is alone?" "Certainly. who has been here since 1811. and in another year he will be quite so. "You are right. Is it not true. it is useless. He used to weep. Antoine?" asked the governor. a man full of philanthropy. an abbe. as this remark shows. "By all means.--he will suffer less. "Shall I complain of him?" demanded the inspector. and the change is astonishing." This was the inspector's first visit." replied the governor. he is almost mad now. At the sound of the key turning in the lock. He was. no.

" "To-day is the 30th of July. I made some curious observations on this at Charenton.--why it is but seventeen months.creaking of the hinges. for he his always been very good to me. and that the moment to address himself to the superior authorities was come. raised his head. "Oh. like me. the other day." "It is true. 1815. when you tried to kill the turnkey." "Only seventeen months. and the latter recoiled two or three steps. you do not know what is seventeen months in prison!--seventeen ages rather. and I beg his pardon. "I want to know what crime I have committed--to be tried. The soldiers interposed their bayonets. "He will become religious--he is already more gentle. turning to the prisoner. for they thought that he was about to attack the inspector. the victim of an infamous denunciation. I don't know. Dantes saw that he was looked upon as dangerous. escorted by two turnkeys holding torches and accompanied by two soldiers. "you are not so always. "The 28th of February." replied Dantes. but to officers of justice and the king. not only to me. infusing all the humility he possessed into his eyes and voice. to be set at liberty. captivity has subdued me--I have been here so long. turning to the governor. ." Then. and if I am guilty. then?" asked the inspector. What matters really. who. The inspector listened attentively. then. and retreated before the bayonets--madmen are not afraid of anything. is that an innocent man should languish in prison. it's of no consequence. for instance. had arrived at the summit of his ambition--to a man. who guessed the truth. Dantes. but I was mad. "What is it you want?" said he. and to whom the governor spoke bareheaded. observed. he addressed the inspector." "So long?--when were you arrested. to be shot." "Are you well fed?" said the inspector. sir. Dantes. Then. to die here cursing his executioners." "You are very humble to-day. especially to a man who. sprang forward with clasped hands. Seeing a stranger. who was crouched in a corner of the dungeon." "And you are not so any longer?" "No. and sought to inspire him with pity." remarked the governor. at half-past two in the afternoon. if innocent. whence he could see the ray of light that came through a narrow iron grating above. "I believe so. 1816. he is afraid.

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

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

" returned Abbe Faria. like Milan and Florence." returned the inspector with a smile." continued the abbe. passable for a dungeon. addressing Faria. if it succeeded. since then I have demanded my liberty from the Italian and French government. "It is for that reason I am delighted to see you."There. happy." "Monsieur. born at Rome." "Why from the French government?" "Because I was arrested at Piombino. amounting to five millions.--that is. and I presume that. Could you allow me a few words in private. "I would speak to you of a large sum. very bad. would possibly change Newton's system. Piombino has become the capital of some French department." returned the inspector. "But. which was to make Italy a united kingdom. "You knew him." . "providence has changed this gigantic plan you advocate so warmly." whispered the governor." "Ah. "although you have disturbed me in a most important calculation." whispered the governor. the lodging is very unhealthful." said the abbe. but it is not that which I wish to speak of. why." "We are coming to the point." "Monsieur. but a secret I have to reveal of the greatest importance. now. on the whole. I was for twenty years Cardinal Spada's secretary. but to inquire if you have anything to ask or to complain of." "Very possibly. I was arrested. "and as the emperor had created the kingdom of Rome for infant son. toward the beginning of the year 1811. which. "I am the Abbe Faria. only I am not come to discuss politics." continued he. "you have not the latest news from Italy?" "My the his and information dates from the day on which I was arrested. I know not." "It is the only means of rendering Italy strong. "What you ask is impossible. monsieur." said the inspector." "What did I tell you?" said the governor. "it is just as I told you. I presume that he has realized the dream of Machiavelli Caesar Borgia." "The food is the same as in other prisons. but." continued the prisoner. and independent.

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

Then turning to Faria--"I inquired if you are well fed?" said he. have neither courage nor desire." "You do not reply to my question. They fear the ear that hears their orders. As the Inquisition rarely allowed its victims to be seen with their limbs distorted and their flesh lacerated by torture. perhaps?" said the inspector. "Counting his treasures." So the matter ended for the Abbe Faria. Formerly they believed themselves sprung from Jupiter. from whence. He remained in his cell. It has always been against the policy of despotic governments to suffer the victims of their persecutions to reappear. condemned him to perpetual captivity. The turnkey closed the door behind them. "What is he doing there?" said the inspector. as I told you. and this visit only increased the belief in his insanity." "After all. and awoke mad. in exchange for his wealth. casting away his coverlet. it is conveyed to some gloomy hospital. and continued his calculations. the liberty he so earnestly prayed for. but nowadays they are not inviolable. gone mad in prison. The very madness of the Abbe Faria. But the kings of modern times. "to free me if what I tell you prove true. "Monsieur. "Swear to me. and the eye that scrutinizes their actions. I will stay here. those desirers of the impossible. he would not have been here. "Nor you to mine. and I will stay here while you go to the spot. so madness is always concealed in its cell. so there is no chance of my escaping. those treasure-seekers. where the doctor has no thought for man or mind in the mutilated being the jailer delivers to him." cried the abbe. would have accorded to the poor wretch. . resumed his place." said the inspector. should it depart." "Are you well fed?" repeated the inspector. Caligula or Nero. "He was wealthy once. "if he had been rich. Faria replied to this sarcasm with a glance of profound contempt. They went out. "You will not accept my gold." And the abbe." replied the inspector impatiently." replied Faria. you run no risk. I will keep it for myself." replied the governor. restrained by the limits of mere probability. "Or dreamed he was. God will give it me. for. and shielded by their birth. You refuse me my liberty.

he wrote the date. it would have been too tedious to acquire the names of the prisoners. and found the following note concerning him:-Edmond Dantes: Violent Bonapartist. 1816. he learned their numbers instead. Dantes passed through all the stages of torture natural to prisoners in suspense. took an active part in the return from Elba. This fortnight expired. He took with him several of his subordinates. he simply wrote. do not have any hope in him till they have exhausted all other means of deliverance. an illusion of the brain. 30th July.The inspector kept his word with Dantes.--"Nothing to be done. and then. he addressed his supplications. who ought to begin with God. their inhabitants were designated by the numbers of their cell. he therefore fixed three months. then six more. which justified in some measure the governor's belief in his mental alienation. he at first expected to be freed in a fortnight. relaxing his sentiment of pride. then he began to doubt his own innocence. Unfortunates. and that he would not reach there until his circuit was finished. however disadvantageous. Number 34 and Number 27. and amongst them Dantes' jailer. and made a mark every day. He was sustained at first by that pride of conscious innocence which is the sequence to hope. The inspector could not contend against this accusation. but to man. but now. forgotten the date. which showed that it had been added since his confinement. and the unhappy young man was no longer called Edmond Dantes--he was now number 34. A new governor arrived. was still a change. Days and weeks passed away. At the expiration of a year the governor was transferred. in order not to lose his reckoning again. till then. God is always the last resource. and would afford him some amusement. he had. Dantes asked to be removed from his present dungeon into another. then months--Dantes still waited. and Dantes began to fancy the inspector's visit but a dream. The greatest watchfulness and care to be exercised. to have . This horrible place contained fifty cells. Finally ten months and a half had gone by and no favorable change had taken place. for a change. He entreated to be allowed to walk about. he examined the register. he had obtained charge of the fortress at Ham." This visit had infused new vigor into Dantes. not to God. three months passed away. This note was in a different hand from the rest. Chapter 15. with a fragment of plaster. he decided that the inspector would do nothing until his return to Paris.

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

Soon the fury of the waves and the sight of the sharp rocks announced the approach of death. Once thus ensnared. all his sufferings. with their train of gloomy spectres. but he who unwarily ventures within its embrace finds himself struggling with a monster that would drag him down to perdition. Rage supplanted religious fervor. "Sometimes. unless the protecting hand of God snatch him thence. There is a sort of consolation at the contemplation of the yawning abyss. because after torture came death. beating the two horizons with its wings. because to be cast upon a bed of rocks and seaweed seemed terrible. Then I felt that my vessel was a vain refuge. less terrible than the sufferings that precede or the punishment that possibly will follow. All his sorrows. at least the boon of unconsciousness.of Archbishop Roger in the Inferno of Dante. and his struggles but tend to hasten his destruction. the sea rage and foam. I have seen the heavens overcast. that had thus plunged him into the deepest misery. on the brink of misfortune. should serve for food to the gulls and ravens. and chiefly upon himself. who. and every line gleamed forth in fiery letters on the wall like the mene tekel upharsin of Belshazzar. when I was a man and commanded other men. and I used all my skill and intelligence as a man and a sailor to struggle against the wrath of God. He told himself that it was the enmity of man. all is over. a creature made for the service of God. led to paroxysms of fury. at the bottom of which lie darkness and obscurity. so that the least thing. I have lost all that bound me to life. looking forward with terror to his future existence. Dantes uttered blasphemies that made his jailer recoil with horror. the storm arise. He consigned his unknown persecutors to the most horrible tortures he could imagine. and after death. But I did so because I was happy. By dint of constantly dwelling on the idea that tranquillity was death. because I had not courted death. and found them all insufficient. This state of mental anguish is. and. "in my voyages. or a breath of air that annoyed him. and. and not the vengeance of heaven. death smiles and invites me to repose. fled from his cell when the angel of death seemed about to enter. and if punishment were the end in view other tortures than death must be invented." said he.--a grain of sand. because I was unwilling that I. But now it is different. . Dantes reviewed his past life with composure. that trembled and shook before the tempest. broods over ideas like these! Before him is a dead sea that stretches in azure calm before the eye. wreaked his anger upon everything. however. a straw. dashed himself furiously against the walls of his prison. Then the letter that Villefort had showed to him recurred to his mind. I die after my own manner. and death then terrified me. chose that middle line that seemed to afford him a refuge. if not repose. Edmond found some solace in these ideas. like a monstrous bird. he began to reflect on suicide. Unhappy he.

he would not die by what seemed an infamous death. Nothing but the recollection of his oath gave him strength to proceed. when he closed his eyes he saw myriads of lights dancing before them like the will-o'-the-wisps that play about the marshes. Two methods of self-destruction were at his disposal. his thirst had abated. he refused himself. but he thought of his oath." He kept his word. twice a day he cast out. "When my morning and evening meals are brought. then with deliberation. his prospects less desperate. "I will cast them out of the window. he held the plate in his hand for an hour at a time. like a worn-out garment. But the first was repugnant to him. because he felt that he could throw it off at pleasure. and began that day to carry out his resolve. Hunger made viands once repugnant. at the end of the second he had ceased to mark the lapse of time." thought he. and they will think that I have eaten them. the gnawing pain at his stomach had ceased. of black and mouldy bread. It was the twilight of that mysterious country called Death! Suddenly. "I wish to die. through the barred aperture. who are hung up to the yard-arm. he had taken an oath to die. like a voluntary Tantalus. Edmond felt a sort of stupor creeping over him which brought with it a feeling almost of content. at last." and had chosen the manner of his death. or refuse food and die of starvation. Dantes had always entertained the greatest horror of pirates. Edmond heard a hollow sound in the wall against which he was lying. The next morning he could not see or hear. arranged his couch to the best of his power. He could hang himself with his handkerchief to the window bars. that their noise did . ate little and slept less. and found existence almost supportable. he had not sufficient strength to rise and cast his supper out of the loophole. He persisted until. He resolved to adopt the second. and fearful of changing his mind. then his dungeon seemed less sombre. Nearly four years had passed away." No sooner had this idea taken possession of him than he became more composed. and he would not break it. of tainted fish. now acceptable. Thus the day passed away. and gazed thoughtfully at the morsel of bad meat. as I fall asleep when I have paced three thousand times round my cell. So many loathsome animals inhabited the prison. about nine o'clock in the evening. and at last with regret. He was still young--he was only four or five and twenty--he had nearly fifty years to live. and restore him to liberty? Then he raised to his lips the repast that. It was the last yearning for life contending with the resolution of despair. Edmond hoped he was dying. What unforseen events might not open his prison door.I die exhausted and broken-spirited. the provisions his jailer brought him--at first gayly. Dantes said. the jailer feared he was dangerously ill.

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

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

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

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

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

" Edmond had not heard any one speak save his jailer for four or five years. who made no hesitation in answering. and a jailer is no man to a prisoner--he is a living door." Dantes shuddered. "In the name of heaven. a barrier of flesh and blood adding strength to restraints of oak and iron." "What! For the emperor's return?--the emperor is no longer on the throne. and he rose to his knees. ." "How long have you been here?" "Since the 28th of February. this man had been four years longer than himself in prison. "Ah. "speak again. "I hear a human voice. 1815." cried Dantes. "Of what country?" "A Frenchman. But how long have you been here that you are ignorant of all this?" "Since 1811. Who are you?" "Who are you?" said the voice." said he." replied Dantes." "Your name?" "Edmond Dantes. and was sent to the Island of Elba.stood on end. "An unhappy prisoner. though the sound of your voice terrifies me. then?" "He abdicated at Fontainebleau in 1814." "Your profession?" "A sailor." "Your crime?" "I am innocent." "But of what are you accused?" "Of having conspired to aid the emperor's return.

do not work any more." "Could you have swum so far?" "Heaven would have given me strength." "Tell me. but now all is lost. stop up your excavation carefully. "Oh."Do not dig any more." "Alas!" murmured the voice." said the voice." "But then you would be close to the sea?" "That is what I hoped. I took the wrong angle. gained one of the islands near here--the Isle de Daume or the Isle de Tiboulen--and then I should have been safe. I took the wall you are mining for the outer wall of the fortress." "And the corridor?" "On a court." "What does your chamber open on?" "A corridor. what is the matter?" cried Dantes." "And supposing you had succeeded?" "I should have thrown myself into the sea. who you are?" . and wait until you hear from me." "Has your bed been moved since you have been a prisoner?" "No. "I have made a mistake owing to an error in my plans. "only tell me how high up is your excavation?" "On a level with the floor." "All?" "Yes. at least. and have come out fifteen feet from where I intended." "How is it concealed?" "Behind my bed.

"I am--I am No." "How old are you? Your voice is that of a young man. that I was just nineteen when I was arrested. if you are old." returned the voice. and I of those whom I love." "Then you will love me." "I do not know my age." "It is well. Dantes rose. then." "But you will not leave me. My father has not yet forgotten me. I will be your son. "to-morrow. I have a father who is seventy if he yet lives. "at that age he cannot be a traitor. If you do. guessing instinctively that this man meant to abandon him. no. you will come to me. you of those whom you love. for I was about to form another plan. I will be your comrade. I shall love you as I loved my father. I only love him and a young girl called Mercedes. "I swear to you by him who died for us that naught shall induce me to breathe one syllable to my jailers. but God alone knows if she loves me still. dispersed the fragments with the same precaution . and ask for my assistance. I am alone in the world. but I conjure you do not abandon me." "Not quite twenty-six!" murmured the voice. Edmond fancied he heard a bitter laugh resounding from the depths. You must love somebody?" "No. I will not forget you. for I have got to the end of my strength. I am sure. We will escape. and leave you. 1815." cried Dantes. 27." "You mistrust me. but your age reassures me. All I do know is. I would allow myself to be hacked in pieces!" "You have done well to speak to me. Wait." "Oh. the 28th of February. and you will have my death to reproach yourself with. If you are young. or you will let me come to you. and if we cannot escape we will talk. "Oh. I swear to you. rather than betray you. that I will dash my brains out against the wall." said Dantes. no. I will give you the signal. I am a Christian." These few words were uttered with an accent that left no doubt of his sincerity. for I have not counted the years I have been here. "I swear to you again." cried Dantes." "How long?" "I must calculate our chances.

he would have a companion. Once or twice the thought crossed his mind that he might be separated from this unknown. pressing his hand on his heart. suddenly gave way." "I can work. Dantes was on his bed. first the head. he threw himself on his knees. perhaps. then?" said the voice. "Is it you?" said he. he feared that the emotion of his voice would betray him. "I am here. who sprang lightly into his cell. for the jailer said. He sat down occasionally on his bed." In a moment that part of the floor on which Dantes was resting his two hands. Then from the bottom of this passage. Chapter 16. and captivity that is shared is but half captivity. 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. A Learned Italian. and pushed his bed back against the wall. . At the slightest noise he bounded towards the door. then the shoulders. however. "Come. Dantes hoped that his neighbor would profit by the silence to address him. he heard three knocks. as he knelt with his head in the opening. Plaints made in common are almost prayers. this instant. The jailer came in the evening." "Is your jailer gone?" "Yes." said Dantes. It seemed to him that thus he better guarded the unfinished opening. he drew back smartly. and lastly the body of a man.as before. at the worst. and then his mind was made up--when the jailer moved his bed and stooped to examine the opening. "Oh. yes. whom he loved already. He would be condemned to die. so that we have twelve hours before us. "he will not return until the evening. while a mass of stones and earth disappeared in a hole that opened beneath the aperture he himself had formed. All day Dantes walked up and down his cell. but he was mistaken. about to regain his liberty. are you going mad again?" Dantes did not answer. The next morning. He was. just as he removed his bed from the wall. He then gave himself up to his happiness. I entreat you. Night came. He would no longer be alone. The jailer went away shaking his head. and prayers where two or three are gathered together invoke the mercy of heaven. yes. he saw appear. the depth of which it was impossible to measure. he would kill him with his water jug.

he stooped and raised the stone easily in spite of its weight. here is my chisel." "Oh. "With one of the clamps of my bedstead. The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty-five years. but a certain briskness and appearance of vigor in his movements made it probable that he was aged more from captivity than the course of time. betokened a man more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties than his physical strength. in order to obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the imperfect light that struggled through the grating." "Why. and this very tool has sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I came hither. he said. then." So saying. fitting it into its place. with a handle made of beechwood. how I should like to see these products of your industry and patience. He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly welcome. and a long (and still black) beard reaching down to his breast. penetrating eye. I have all that are necessary. pincers. almost buried beneath the thick gray eyebrow." "Well. Dantes almost carried him towards the window. a distance of about fifty feet. and lever." exclaimed Dantes. he displayed a sharp strong blade. deeply furrowed by care.--a chisel. He was a man of small stature. with hair blanched rather by suffering and sorrow than by age. but I suppose you had no tools to aid you. Large drops of perspiration were now standing on his brow." . He had a deep-set. and with the exception of a file. "whether it is possible to remove the traces of my entrance here--our future tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely ignorant of it. "do you possess any?" "I made myself some." said he.Seizing in his arms the friend so long and ardently desired. in the first place. "Let us first see. while the garments that hung about him were so ragged that one could only guess at the pattern upon which they had originally been fashioned. although he must at that moment have been suffering bitterly to find another dungeon where he had fondly reckoned on discovering a means of regaining his liberty.-"You removed this stone very carelessly. and the bold outline of his strongly marked features. as though his chilled affections were rekindled and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent. "And with what did you contrive to make that?" inquired Dantes." Advancing to the opening. He received the enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident pleasure. His thin face. with astonishment.

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

he nimbly leaped from the table to the ground. previously to which I had been confined for three years in the fortress of Fenestrelle. a cat or a lizard. you can console and support me by the strength of your own powerful mind. "Tell me. "the will of God be done!" and as the old man slowly pronounced those words. who and what you are?" said he at length. and have been imprisoned as you know in this Chateau d'If since the year 1811." said he at length. Pray let me know who you really are?" The stranger smiled a melancholy smile. alas. indeed. "if. I saw the soldier's shape and the top of his musket. an air of profound resignation spread itself over his careworn countenance. so as to bottom. in his turn descending from the table. now." "Are you quite sure of that?" "Certain." answered the stranger. The elder prisoner pondered the matter. he bars of the window. "it is so. where patrols are continually passing. for holding himself erect. you feel any curiosity respecting one. "never have I met with so remarkable a person as yourself. "Then listen.and steady on his feet as the outstretched hands of then. "I thought so!" and sliding from the shoulders of Dantes as dextrously as he had ascended. In the year 1811 I was . and sentries keep watch day and night. Dantes gazed on the man who could thus philosophically resign hopes so long and ardently nourished with an astonishment mingled with admiration." "Well?" inquired Dantes. I entreat of you. "You perceive then the utter impossibility of escaping through your dungeon?" "Then." "Say not so." pursued the young man eagerly-"Then. "I am the Abbe Faria. "What was it that you thought?" asked the young man anxiously." said he. saying. that made me draw in my head so quickly. the ceiling of the dungeon prevented him from managed to slip his head between the upper to be able to command a perfect view from top An instant afterwards he hastily drew back his head." "Willingly. climbed from the table to Dantes." answered the elder prisoner. for I was fearful he might also see me. "Yes. and from them to his shoulders. This side of your chamber looks out upon a kind of open gallery. powerless to aid you in any way. bending double.

Cromwell. lastly. "Are you not. but I forget this sometimes. but of Clement VII.. some Prince of Orange. I desired to alter the political face of Italy. after Cromwell. he knew nothing. because." And the old man bowed his head. Then who reigns in France at this moment--Napoleon II." "But wherefore are you here?" "Because in 1807 I dreamed of the very plan Napoleon tried to realize in 1811. Dantes could not understand a man risking his life for such matters. compact. and Alexander VI." continued he. like Machiavelli. and Clement VII. named king of Rome even in his cradle..?" "No. Napoleon certainly he knew something of. for they attempted it fruitlessly. then a constitution. inasmuch as he had seen and spoken with him. because I fancied I had found my Caesar Borgia in a crowned simpleton. then liberty. I sought to form one large. yes. but it will never succeed now. "the priest who here in the Chateau d'If is generally thought to be--ill?" . and. and then some son-in-law or relation. you will see all this come to pass. Charles II. turning towards Dantes. 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. that four years afterwards." "The brother of Louis XVII. namely. who feigned to enter into my views only to betray me. had bestowed on him a son. "we are prisoners.. Then new concessions to the people." "Probably. "you are young. this colossus of power would be overthrown.transferred to Piedmont in France. each held by some weak or tyrannical ruler. and powerful empire. a stadtholder who becomes a king. I was very far then from expecting the change you have just informed me of. and surveying him with the kindling gaze of a prophet. Ah. if ever I get out of prison!" "True. After Charles I. Louis XVIII. and instead of allowing it to be split up into a quantity of petty principalities." replied Faria. and then James II.. It was at this period I learned that the destiny which seemed subservient to every wish formed by Napoleon.! How inscrutable are the ways of providence--for what great and mysterious purpose has it pleased heaven to abase the man once so elevated. and there are even moments when my mental vision transports me beyond these walls." he asked. and I fancy myself at liberty. my friend!" said the abbe. "Yes. Italy seems fated to misfortune. It was the plan of Alexander VI. "'Twill be the same as it was in England. and Napoleon was unable to complete his work.

that you talk of beginning over again. for many years permitted to amuse the different visitors with what is said to be my insanity. 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. that the other might not see how joy at the thought of having a companion outweighed the sympathy he felt for the failure of the abbe's plans. No. "let me answer your question in full. at the moment when I reckoned upon success." Dantes held down his head. it shows how little notion you can have of all it has cost me to effect a purpose so unexpectedly frustrated. by acknowledging that I am the poor mad prisoner of the Chateau d'If. and now."Mad. if such innocent beings could be found in an abode devoted like this to suffering and despair. I was compelled to break through a staircase. smiling. and I consider it impious to attempt that which the Almighty evidently does not approve." resumed Faria with a bitter smile." answered Dantes. that I scarcely think it would be possible to add another handful of dust without leading to discovery." Dantes remained for a short time mute and motionless. some things which appear so impossible that the mind does not dwell on them for an . Consider also that I fully believed I had accomplished the end and aim of my undertaking. and have been two years scraping and digging out earth. by night-time I had contrived to carry away a square inch of this hard-bound cement. while Edmond himself remained standing. changed by ages into a substance unyielding as the stones themselves. for which I had so exactly husbanded my strength as to make it just hold out to the termination of my enterprise. I repeat again.--"Then you abandon all hope of escape?" "I perceive its utter impossibility. The abbe sank upon Edmond's bed. then. I should be promoted to the honor of making sport for the children. Escape had never once occurred to him. in all probability. 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. considering my labor well repaid if. my hopes are forever dashed from me. then what toil and fatigue has it not been to remove huge stones I should once have deemed impossible to loosen. Whole days have I passed in these Titanic efforts. "Well. indeed. be not discouraged. you mean. but the well is now so completely choked up. at length he said. There are. I was four years making the tools I possess. don't you?" "I did not like to say so. and." "Nay. that nothing shall induce me to renew attempts evidently at variance with the Almighty's pleasure. hard as granite itself. In the first place.

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

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

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

Italian. I found out that with one hundred and fifty well-chosen books a man possesses. who almost fancied he had to do with one gifted with supernatural powers. which would be universally preferred to all others if once known. he added. how did you manage to write the work you speak of?" "I made myself some excellent ones. still hoping to find some imperfection which might bring him down to a level with human beings. I selected the cartilages of the heads of these fishes. I made a vocabulary of the words I knew. by the aid of ancient Greek I learned modern Greek--I don't speak it so well as I could wish. Well." "Improve yourself!" repeated Dantes. and that would be quite as much as I should ever require. I name only the most important. I cannot hope to be very fluent. till I knew them nearly by heart. Titus Livius. Plutarch. I speak five of the modern tongues--that is to say. turned. Spinoza. which is all that is absolutely necessary." "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 Bossuet. Machiavelli. for I will freely confess that my historical labors have been my greatest solace and relief. I devoted three years of my life to reading and studying these one hundred and fifty volumes. returned." Stronger grew the wonder of Dantes. acquainted with a variety of languages. "Then if you were not furnished with pens. You are aware what huge whitings are served to us on maigre days. I know Lavoisier."Somewhat. and Saturday. English. Xenophon. I forget the present." . but I certainly should have no difficulty in explaining my wants and wishes. French. While retracing the past. so as to enable me to express my thoughts through their medium. Tacitus. and was the intimate friend of Cabanis. Montaigne. Strada. and arranged them. and Spanish." "You are. a very slight effort of memory has enabled me to recall their contents as readily as though the pages were open before me. German. doubtless. and you can scarcely imagine the delight with which I welcomed the arrival of each Wednesday. Jornandes. if not a complete summary of all human knowledge. as affording me the means of increasing my stock of pens. although I believe there are nearly one hundred thousand in the dictionaries. so as to have been able to read all these?" "Yes. but I am still trying to improve myself. but after reading them over many times. Dante. Friday. at least all that a man need really know. how can you manage to do so?" "Why. "why. I know nearly one thousand words. and traversing at will the path of history I cease to remember that I am myself a prisoner. I could recite you the whole of Thucydides. Shakespeare. so that since I have been in prison.

and I assure you a better ink cannot be desired. "It is well." said the abbe. The floor of the abbe's cell was paved. I pricked one of my fingers. "of what did you make your ink?" "There was formerly a fireplace in my dungeon. did not admit of their holding themselves erect. Chapter 17. by means of these lines. Well. then. but nothing more than common met his view. for that might be broken or deranged in its movements. "we have some hours before us--it is now just a quarter past twelve o'clock. As he entered the chamber of his friend. For very important notes. for which closer attention is required. followed by Dantes. then let it be directly!" exclaimed the young man." Instinctively Dantes turned round to observe by what watch or clock the abbe had been able so accurately to specify the hour. and barely permitted one to creep through on hands and knees." replied Faria. "but it was closed up long ere I became an occupant of this prison. in which he soon disappeared. Still. After having passed with tolerable ease through the subterranean passage. 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. however. which are in accordance with the double motion of the earth. from that point the passage became much narrower. "Follow me." said Dantes. "Look at this ray of light which enters by my window. which. Dantes cast around one eager and searching glance in quest of the expected marvels. it must have been many years in use." "And when. and the ellipse it describes round the sun." ." said the abbe. "may I see all this?" "Whenever you please." said the abbe. "and then observe the lines traced on the wall." replied the abbe. and wrote with my own blood. into which the abbe's cell opened. "Oh. for it was thickly covered with a coating of soot. I am enabled to ascertain the precise hour with more minuteness than if I possessed a watch. the two friends reached the further end of the corridor. while the sun and earth never vary in their appointed paths. this soot I dissolved in a portion of the wine brought to me every Sunday."But the ink." asked Dantes. as he re-entered the subterranean passage. The Abbe's Chamber.

my literary reputation is forever secured. "Now let me behold the curious pens with which you have written your work. by a piece of thread. raised. and not the earth. and. then looked around to see the instrument with which it had been shaped so correctly into form. showing to the young man a slender stick about six inches long." The . which had doubtless been the hearth." said Faria. one of those cartilages of which the abbe had before spoken to Dantes. "There. and divided at the nib like an ordinary pen. perfectly understood. they were all carefully numbered and closely covered with writing. Each word that fell from his companion's lips seemed fraught with the mysteries of science. appeared to him perfectly impossible. to complete the precious pages. as well as make out the sense--it being in Italian. A double movement of the globe he inhabited. it was pointed. and of which he could feel nothing. to the end of which was tied. a long stone. as a Provencal. who had always imagined. so legible that Dantes could easily read it. and much resembling the size of the handle of a fine painting-brush. like folds of papyrus. laid one over the other. Dantes examined it with intense admiration. These rolls consisted of slips of cloth about four inches wide and eighteen long. as well as this larger knife. a language he. proceeding to the disused fireplace. your great work on the monarchy of Italy!" Faria then drew forth from his hiding-place three or four rolls of linen.This last explanation was wholly lost upon Dantes." "I see. "What do you wish to see first?" asked the abbe. "Come. which he could just recollect having visited during a voyage made in his earliest youth." said he. Should I ever get out of prison and find in all Italy a printer courageous enough to publish what I have composed. and as many handkerchiefs as I was master of." answered Dantes. as worthy of digging out as the gold and diamonds in the mines of Guzerat and Golconda. "there is the work complete." said he to the abbe. I have torn up two of my shirts. beneath which was a cavity of considerable depth. I made it." The abbe smiled. I wrote the word finis at the end of the sixty-eighth strip about a week ago. "the penknife." "Look!" said Faria. serving as a safe depository of the articles mentioned to Dantes. out of an old iron candlestick. that it moved. yes. That's my masterpiece. "Oh. "Ah. "I am anxious to see your treasures. by the help of his chisel. from seeing the sun rise from behind the mountains and set in the Mediterranean.

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

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

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

" "And about to become the husband of a young and lovely girl?" "Yes. Now. and had even challenged him to fight me. seek first to discover the person to whom the perpetration of that bad action could be in any way advantageous.--when the employee dies. for your reply evinces neither logic nor philosophy. from the highest to the lowest degree. But these forces increase as we go higher. I feel convinced their choice would have fallen on me. in the event of the king's death. and is beset by stormy passions and conflicting interests. to the employee who keeps his rival out of a place." "Now we are getting on. by heaven! I was a very insignificant person. the supernumerary steps into his shoes. and are as essential to him as the twelve millions of a king.false tastes. From this view of things. Now let us return to your particular world. and had the sailors possessed the right of selecting a captain themselves. and ultimately to lead us into guilt and wickedness. to apply it in your case. Now. could any one have had any interest in preventing the accomplishment of these two things? But let us first settle the question as to its being the interest of any one to hinder you from being captain of the Pharaon." "Do not speak thus. from the king who stands in the way of his successor. as in Descartes' theory of pressure and impulsion. I was generally liked on board. I had quarelled with him some time previously." "Now. What say you?" "I cannot believe such was the case. his successor inherits a crown. There was only one person among the crew who had any feeling of ill-will towards me. You say you were on the point of being made captain of the Pharaon?" "Yes. my dear young friend." "What rank did he hold on board?" "He was supercargo. everything is relative. And what was this man's name?" "Danglars. and receives his salary of twelve thousand livres. but he refused. these twelve thousand livres are his civil list. so that we have a spiral which in defiance of reason rests upon the apex and not on the base. Well. then." . Every one. has his place on the social ladder. which occasionally become so powerful as to stifle within us all good feelings. comes the axiom that if you visit to discover the author of any bad action.--to whom could your disappearance have been serviceable?" "To no one.

how could a sailor find room in his pocket for a portfolio large enough to contain an official letter?" "You are right." "And what did you do with that letter?" "Put it into my portfolio."And had you been captain. and gave you a letter in place of it. tell me." "That's better. should you have retained him in his employment?" "Not if the choice had remained with me. I think?" "Yes. for I had frequently observed inaccuracies in his accounts. Did you take anybody with you when you put into the port of Elba?" "Nobody." "You had your portfolio with you." "Then it was not till your return to the ship that you put the letter in the portfolio?" "No. was any person present during your last conversation with Captain Leclere?" "No. "now we are on the right scent. for the cabin door was open--and--stay. now I recollect." "Good again! Now then. everybody could see that you held a letter in your hand?" ." "Somebody there received your packet. we were quite alone. then? Now." "Could your conversation have been overheard by any one?" "It might." cried the abbe. it was left on board.--Danglars himself passed by just as Captain Leclere was giving me the packet for the grand marshal. the grand marshal did." "And what did you do with this same letter while returning from Porto-Ferrajo to the vessel?" "I carried it in my hand." "So that when you went on board the Pharaon.

" "How did Danglars usually write?" "In a handsome." Dantes paused a moment. again. listen to me." said he. This proof of his guilt may be procured by his immediate arrest. "How very astonishing!" cried he at length. "The thing is clear as day. "Why your writing exactly resembles that of the accusation. the first two or three words of the accusation." "Repeat it to me. that would indeed be infamous. word for word: 'The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and religion. and gazed on the abbe with a sensation almost amounting to terror." "Do you really think so? Ah. that one Edmond Dantes. at his father's residence. as the letter will be found either about his person. with his left hand. Dantes drew back. has been intrusted by Murat with a packet for the usurper.'" The abbe shrugged his shoulders. and try to recall every circumstance attending your arrest. "Disguised. "and you must have had a very confiding nature." . after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo. not to have suspected the origin of the whole affair. I read it over three times." "And how was the anonymous letter written?" "Backhanded. or in his cabin on board the Pharaon. after dipping it into the ink. and the words sank deeply into my memory." "Danglars. then said." "Now." Again the abbe smiled. if disguised. by the usurper. taking up what he called his pen. mate on board the Pharaon. and. "This is it. with a letter for the Bonapartist Club in Paris. running hand. Do you recollect the words in which the information against you was formulated?" "Oh yes." "It was very boldly written. he wrote on a piece of prepared linen. as well as others. this day arrived from Smyrna." "Stop a bit." said the abbe. as well as the rest?" "Danglars."Yes. as well as a good heart.

" "And his name was"-"Fernand."Simply because that accusation had been written with the left hand." "I am listening." "You have evidently seen and observed everything. I think?" "He was a Catalan." ." "That is in strict accordance with the Spanish character. no. yes." "Besides." "You had never spoken of them yourself to any one?" "To no one. a young man who loved her." "That is a Spanish name." said Dantes. yes!" "Now as regards the second question." "Was there any person whose interest it was to prevent your marriage with Mercedes?" "Yes." "You imagine him capable of writing the letter?" "Oh." "Let us proceed. not even to my betrothed. but an act of cowardice." "Not even to your mistress?" "No. that performed with the left hand is invariably uniform." "Oh. "the various circumstances mentioned in the letter were wholly unknown to him. he would more likely have got rid of me by sticking a knife into me. an assassination they will unhesitatingly commit. never. and I have noticed that"-"What?" "That while the writing of different persons done with the right hand varies.

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

and remember that two-legged tigers and crocodiles are more dangerous than the others. be a greater scoundrel than you have thought possible. at any rate." "And that?" "He burnt the sole evidence that could at all have criminated me. the letter. "you make me shudder. but too young to be corrupt." said Dantes." "Did you tell him your whole story?" "I did." "And did his conduct change at all in the course of your examination?" "He did appear much disturbed when he read the letter that had brought me into this scrape." "Upon my word. And how did he treat you?" "With more of mildness than severity. "Old enough to be ambitions." "With all my heart! You tell me he burned the letter?" . He seemed quite overcome by my misfortune. Is the world filled with tigers and crocodiles?" "Yes." answered the abbe."Was he young or old?" "About six or seven and twenty years of age. This man might." "Are you sure?" "I saw it done. I should say." "Then you feel quite sure that it was your misfortune he deplored?" "He gave me one great proof of his sympathy." "That alters the case." "Never mind." "By your misfortune?" "Yes." "What? the accusation?" "No. after all. let us go on." "So.

saying at the same time. "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. 'You see I thus destroy the only proof existing against you. To whom was this letter addressed?" "To M. "Noirtier!--I knew a person of that name at the court of the Queen of Etruria." "Noirtier!" repeated the abbe. whose very name he was so careful to keep concealed? . assuring me he so advised me for my own interest.--a Noirtier. while Dantes gazed on him in utter astonishment. Paris. Poor fellow! poor young man! And you tell me this magistrate expressed great sympathy and commiseration for you?" "He did." "You think so?" "I am sure of it. 13 Coq-Heron." "Well. 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. can you not guess who this Noirtier was." "And the worthy man destroyed your compromising letter?" "Yes. more than this. Noirtier. you poor short-sighted simpleton." "Now can you conceive of any interest that your heroic deputy could possibly have had in the destruction of that letter?" "Why. No." "And then made you swear never to utter the name of Noirtier?" "Yes. who had been a Girondin during the Revolution! What was your deputy called?" "De Villefort!" The abbe burst into a fit of laughter."He did. "What ails you?" said he at length.'" "This action is somewhat too sublime to be natural." "Why. the whole thing is more clear to me than that sunbeam is to you. and.

"Let us talk of something else. During these hours of profound meditation. he could not have been more completely transfixed with horror than he was at the sound of these unexpected words.--all returned with a stunning force to his memory. dumb and motionless as a statue. where the turnkey found him in the evening visit. to think over all this. or hell opened its yawning gulf before him. the almost supplicating tones of the magistrate. he began to speak of other matters. he threw himself on his bed. Now this was a Sunday. Starting up." When he regained his dungeon. and cleared up all that had been dark and obscure before. though harmlessly and even amusingly so. "Because it has instilled a new passion in your heart--that of vengeance. but there was that in his whole appearance that bespoke one who had come to a fixed and desperate resolve. "His father! his father!" "Yes. which to him had seemed only minutes. having also been visited by his jailer." said he. had come to invite his fellow-sufferer to share his supper. "I must be alone. The change that had come over Villefort during the examination. Dantes followed. he had formed a fearful resolution. "his right name was Noirtier de Villefort. and staggered against the wall like a drunken man. whiter quality than the usual prison fare. "having helped you in your late inquiries." replied the abbe." "Why so?" inquired Dantes. the destruction of the letter. The . and bound himself to its fulfilment by a solemn oath. who seemed rather to implore mercy than to pronounce punishment. or having given you the information I did. but in accordance with Dantes' request. then he hurried to the opening that led from the abbe's cell to his own. Again the abbe looked at him. had procured for the abbe unusual privileges. The reputation of being out of his mind. who." Dantes smiled. his father. and the abbe had come to ask his young companion to share the luxuries with him. and said. He was supplied with bread of a finer. sitting with fixed gaze and contracted features. his features were no longer contracted. the exacted promise. Faria bent on him his penetrating eye: "I regret now." Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of Dantes. and now wore their usual expression. he clasped his hands around his head as though to prevent his very brain from bursting. Dantes was at length roused from his revery by the voice of Faria. and exclaimed.Noirtier was his father. He cried out." said he. and even regaled each Sunday with a small quantity of wine." At this instant a bright light shot through the mind of Dantes. then mournfully shook his head.

And that very evening the prisoners sketched a plan of education. it will scarcely require two years for me to communicate to you the stock of learning I possess. I can well believe that so learned a person as yourself would prefer absolute solitude to being tormented with the company of one as ignorant and uninformed as myself. but. "Alas." "Well. A part of the good abbe's words. but it was never egotistical." said he. like the aurora which guides the navigator in northern latitudes. contained many useful and important hints as well as sound information. I want to learn. He already knew Italian." The abbe smiled. "do you really believe I can acquire all these things in so short a time?" "Not their application. "You must teach me a small part of what you know. there are the learners and the learned. certainly. Dantes listened with admiring attention to all he said. you will know as much as I do myself. 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. Dantes possessed a prodigious memory.elder prisoner was one of those persons whose conversation." "Two years!" exclaimed Dantes. "What shall you teach me first? I am in a hurry to begin. it is like the golden cloud in which the Messiah went up into heaven. to learn is not to know. philosophy the other. it is the application of the sciences to truth. to be entered upon the following day. were wholly incomprehensible to him. where he was so much at home." said Dantes." "But cannot one learn philosophy?" "Philosophy cannot be taught. Now. however. physics." "Everything. but their principles you may. If you will only agree to my request. and when I have taught you mathematics. while his naturally poetical feelings threw a light and pleasing veil over the dry reality of arithmetical computation. some of his remarks corresponded with what he already knew. and had also picked up a little of the Romaic ." said the abbe. then. for the unfortunate man never alluded to his own sorrows. opened new vistas to the inquiring mind of the listener. "if only to prevent your growing weary of me. or applied to the sort of knowledge his nautical life had enabled him to acquire. and gave fantastic glimpses of new horizons. "human knowledge is confined within very narrow limits." said Dantes. the mathematical turn of his mind rendered him apt at all kinds of calculation. combined with an astonishing quickness and readiness of conception. I promise you never to mention another word about escaping. like that of all who have experienced many trials. and the three or four modern languages with which I am acquainted. Memory makes the one. history. or the rigid severity of geometry. my boy.

and then as readily straightened it." replied the young man. have you not?" asked Dantes eagerly. alas!" cried the abbe. with an air of determination that made his companion shudder. then suddenly rise. the abbe shook his head in token of disapproval. in spite of the relief his society afforded. took up the chisel." "Still." said Dantes. so that at the end of six months he began to speak Spanish. and German. that Faria. one thought seemed incessantly to harass and distract his mind. bent it into the form of a horseshoe. The young man. 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." "He shall be both blind and deaf. Sometimes he would fall into long reveries. begin pacing the confined space of his dungeon. perhaps the recollection that he had pledged his word (on which his sense of honor was keen) kept him from referring in any way to the possibilities of flight." "And yet the murder." answered the abbe. One day he stopped all at once.dialect during voyages to the East. passed by unheeded in one rapid and instructive course. "Ah. Dantes observed. if there were no sentinel!" "There shall not be one a minute longer than you please. and. no. and by the aid of these two languages he easily comprehended the construction of all the others. "I have already told you. In strict accordance with the promise made to the abbe." cried the abbe. . English. At the end of a year Dantes was a new man. "that I loathe the idea of shedding blood. Days. daily grew sadder. if it were only possible to place a deaf and blind sentinel in the gallery beyond us. "And you have discovered a means of regaining our freedom. you have thought of it?" "Incessantly. and exclaimed. however. Three months passed away. would be simply a measure of self-preservation. "impossible!" Dantes endeavored to renew the subject. sigh heavily and involuntarily. if you choose to call it so. and refused to make any further response. "No. in reply. "Are you strong?" the abbe asked one day of Dantes. with folded arms. even months. Perhaps the delight his studies afforded him left no room for such thoughts." "No matter! I could never agree to it. Dantes spoke no more of escape. "I have.

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

the rubbish being first pulverized so finely that the night wind carried it far away without permitting the smallest trace to remain. At the end of fifteen months the level was finished." Dantes looked in fear and wonder at the livid countenance of Faria. I beseech you. and had. I will tell you what . mixed in the first society of the day. "all is over with me. 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. what ails you?" cried Dantes. perhaps mortal illness. and his very hair seemed to stand on end. easily acquired. 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. already dull and sunken. and the excavation completed beneath the gallery. the only tools for which had been a chisel. where he found him standing in the middle of the room. More than a year had been consumed in this undertaking. and which is seldom possessed except by those who have been placed in constant intercourse with persons of high birth and breeding. to await a night sufficiently dark to favor their flight. their greatest dread now was lest the stone through which the sentry was doomed to fall should give way before its right time. "Alas. whose eyes. at others. as they were. and his hands clinched tightly together. call to him in a tone indicative of great suffering. I had a similar attack the year previous to my imprisonment." faltered out the abbe. thanks to the imitative powers bestowed on him by nature. pale as death. Compelled. his forehead streaming with perspiration. Dantes hastened to his dungeon. sometimes in another. they were obliged to defer their final attempt till that auspicious moment should arrive. he wore an air of melancholy dignity which Dantes. a knife. sometimes in one language. moreover. This malady admits but of one remedy. "listen to what I have to say. as well as that outward polish and politeness he had before been wanting in. I am seized with a terrible.or Dantes' cell. who had remained in Edmond's cell for the purpose of cutting a peg to secure their rope-ladder. "Gracious heavens!" exclaimed Dantes. were surrounded by purple circles. I can feel that the paroxysm is fast approaching. while his lips were white as those of a corpse. and the two workmen could distinctly hear the measured tread of the sentinel as he paced to and fro over their heads. letting his chisel fall to the floor. and a wooden lever. Dantes was occupied in arranging this piece of wood when he heard Faria. "Tell me. "what is the matter? what has happened?" "Quick! quick!" returned the abbe. The abbe was a man of the world. Faria still continuing to instruct Dantes by conversing with him.

An hour passed away and the old man gave no sign of returning animation. shivering as though his veins were filled with ice. foam at the mouth. and cry out loudly. therefore help me back to my room while I have the strength to drag myself along. and anxiously awaited the result. Dantes began to fear he had delayed too long ere he administered the remedy. the symptoms may be much more violent. and rigid as a corpse. and. when it comes to its height I shall probably lie still and motionless as though dead. doubled up in one last convulsion. pour from eight to ten drops of the liquor contained in the phial down my throat. continued gazing on the lifeless features of his friend. "Help! help!" cried the abbe. and we be separated forever. consciousness returned to the ." "Perhaps!" exclaimed Dantes in grief-stricken tones. no!--I may be found here. and uttered the most dreadful cries. which.--be careful about this. or how long the attack may last?" In spite of the magnitude of the misfortune which thus suddenly frustrated his hopes. 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. however. then. and not before. Bring it to me--or rather--no. and I may perhaps revive. his cheeks became purple. he with difficulty forced open the closely fixed jaws. but descended into the passage. Take care my cries are not heard. when he immediately laid the sufferer on his bed. a violent convulsion shook his whole frame. Dantes prevented from being heard by covering his head with the blanket. At length a slight color tinged the livid cheeks. Dantes did not lose his presence of mind.--force open my teeth with the knife. more crushed and broken than a reed trampled under foot. dragging his unfortunate companion with him.that is. he fell back. draw out one of the feet that support the bed. and cause me to fall into fearful convulsions. half-carrying. "I--I--die--I"-So sudden and violent was the fit that the unfortunate prisoner was unable to complete the sentence. Who knows what may happen. On the other hand. his mouth was drawn on one side." said the poor abbe. his eyes started from their sockets. carefully administered the appointed number of drops. uttering neither sigh nor groan. The fit lasted two hours. dashed himself about. he struggled. then. "I am about to be seized with a fit of catalepsy. Go into my cell as quickly as you can. foamed. he managed to reach the abbe's chamber. taking up the knife. then. "Thanks. then. more helpless than an infant. Edmond waited till life seemed extinct in the body of his friend. for if they are it is more than probable I should be removed to another part of the prison. half-supporting him. and colder and paler than marble. cold. When I become quite motionless. and became as rigid as a corpse. thrusting his hands into his hair.

and the jailer saw the prisoner seated as usual on the side of his bed. "lasted but half an hour." said he. a faint sigh issued from the lips. and took his hands. Faria had now fully regained his consciousness. "you are mistaken--you will not die! And your third attack (if. "The last attack I had." said the abbe. darted through it. knowing that all was ready for flight. and hurried to his cell. Alas. and plainly distinguished the approaching steps of the jailer. "He is saved! he is saved!" cried Dantes in a paroxysm of delight. "I now see how wrong such an opinion would have been. Dantes listened. and got up without help. and after it I was hungry." "No. now I can move neither my right arm nor leg. "Did you fancy yourself dying?" "No. The abbe shook his head. but he still lay helpless and exhausted. to Dantes. The third attack will either carry me off. only with a better chance of success. no. which shows that there has been a suffusion of blood on the brain. I had no such idea." said he feebly. hurried back to the abbe's chamber." replied Dantes. and before the departing steps of the jailer had died away in the long corridor he had to traverse. He had scarcely done so before the door opened." And as he spoke he seated himself near the bed beside Faria." . but. alas! I am fearfully exhausted and debilitated by this attack. I thought you might have made your escape." "Be of good cheer.dull. carefully drawing the stone over the opening. "Without you? Did you really think me capable of that?" "At least. "I did not expect to see you again. Almost before the key had turned in the lock. and raising the stone by pressing his head against it. It was therefore near seven o'clock." The deep glow of indignation suffused the cheeks of Dantes. We shall save you another time. but Edmond's anxiety had put all thoughts of time out of his head. because we shall be able to command every requisite assistance. The young man sprang to the entrance. indeed. Dantes. "And why not?" asked the young man. and the sufferer made a feeble effort to move. you should have another) will find you at liberty. as we have done this. and my head seems uncomfortable. was soon beside the sick man's couch. but he pointed with evident anxiety towards the door. whose restless anxiety concerning his friend left him no desire to touch the food brought him." cried Dantes. The sick man was not yet able to speak. or leave me paralyzed for life. "your strength will return. open eyeballs.

Lift it. and swim for both of us. single-hearted. quit this place. if need be. he might." "The physician may be mistaken!" exclaimed Dantes." "I shall never swim again. "Depend upon it. Since the first attack I experienced of this malady. will be the hour of my death."My good Edmond. hear the hollow sound of his footsteps. who are a sailor and a swimmer." Then. and he predicted a similar end for me. not for a time. it becomes necessary to fill up the excavation beneath the soldier's gallery. but fly--go--I give you back your promise. two months. that even your own excellent heart refuses to believe in." said Dantes." "Well. he slowly added. both my father and grandfather died of it in a third attack. by chance. and read in his countenance ample confirmation of the sincerity of his devotion and the loyalty of his purpose. high-principled young friend. and judge if I am mistaken. As for you. Indeed. I have continually reflected on it. "I accept. The physician who prepared for me the remedy I have twice successfully taken. "Then I shall also remain. You may one of these days reap the reward of your disinterested devotion. "Thanks. we will wait. Here I shall remain till the hour of my deliverance arrives. a month. and call the attention ." "It is well.--a week. A sigh escaped him. which fell back by its own weight. "This arm is paralyzed. But as I cannot. None can fly from a dungeon who cannot walk. must know as well as I do that a man so loaded would sink before he had done fifty strokes. Cease. rising and extending his hand with an air of solemnity over the old man's head. but forever." The young man raised the arm. Edmond." murmured the invalid. who are young and active. in all human probability. I know what I say. delay not on my account." replied Faria." said the abbe. perfectly inanimate and helpless. to allow yourself to be duped by vain hopes. "be not deceived." "My son. The attack which has just passed away. then." answered the abbe. "you. "By the blood of Christ I swear never to leave you while you live. was no other than the celebrated Cabanis. condemns me forever to the walls of a prison. and we can select any time we choose. Everything is in readiness for our flight. extending one hand.--and meanwhile your strength will return." Faria gazed fondly on his noble-minded. and that. "You are convinced now. As soon as you feel able to swim we will go. and you will not. what difference will that make? I can take you on my shoulders. are you not?" asked the abbe. "And as for your poor arm. for it is a family inheritance. I expected it.

of his officer to the circumstance. That would bring about a discovery which would inevitably lead to our being separated. Go, then, and set about this work, in which, unhappily, I can offer you no assistance; keep at it all night, if necessary, and do not return here to-morrow till after the jailer his visited me. I shall have something of the greatest importance to communicate to you." Dantes took the hand of the abbe in his, and affectionately pressed it. Faria smiled encouragingly on him, and the young man retired to his task, in the spirit of obedience and respect which he had sworn to show towards his aged friend.

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

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

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

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

invited the two cardinals to dinner. This was a matter of dispute between the holy father and his son. Caesar thought they could make use of one of the means which he always had ready for his friends, that is to say, in the first place, the famous key which was given to certain persons with the request that they go and open a designated cupboard. This key was furnished with a small iron point,--a negligence on the part of the locksmith. When this was pressed to effect the opening of the cupboard, of which the lock was difficult, the person was pricked by this small point, and died next day. Then there was the ring with the lion's head, which Caesar wore when he wanted to greet his friends with a clasp of the hand. The lion bit the hand thus favored, and at the end of twenty-four hours, the bite was mortal. Caesar proposed to his father, that they should either ask the cardinals to open the cupboard, or shake hands with them; but Alexander VI., replied: 'Now as to the worthy cardinals, Spada and Rospigliosi, let us ask both of them to dinner, something tells me that we shall get that money back. Besides, you forget, Caesar, an indigestion declares itself immediately, while a prick or a bite occasions a delay of a day or two.' Caesar gave way before such cogent reasoning, and the cardinals were consequently invited to dinner. "The table was laid in a vineyard belonging to the pope, near San Pierdarena, a charming retreat which the cardinals knew very well by report. Rospigliosi, quite set up with his new dignities, went with a good appetite and his most ingratiating manner. Spada, a prudent man, and greatly attached to his only nephew, a young captain of the highest promise, took paper and pen, and made his will. He then sent word to his nephew to wait for him near the vineyard; but it appeared the servant did not find him. "Spada knew what these invitations meant; since Christianity, so eminently civilizing, had made progress in Rome, it was no longer a centurion who came from the tyrant with a message, 'Caesar wills that you die.' but it was a legate a latere, who came with a smile on his lips to say from the pope, 'His holiness requests you to dine with him.' "Spada set out about two o'clock to San Pierdarena. The pope awaited him. The first sight that attracted the eyes of Spada was that of his nephew, in full costume, and Caesar Borgia paying him most marked attentions. Spada turned pale, as Caesar looked at him with an ironical air, which proved that he had anticipated all, and that the snare was well spread. They began dinner and Spada was only able to inquire of his nephew if he had received his message. The nephew replied no; perfectly comprehending the meaning of the question. It was too late, for he had already drunk a glass of excellent wine, placed for him expressly by the pope's butler. Spada at the same moment saw another bottle approach him, which he was pressed to taste. An hour afterwards a physician declared they were both poisoned through eating mushrooms. Spada died on the threshold of the vineyard; the nephew expired at his own door, making signs which his wife could not comprehend.

"Then Caesar and the pope hastened to lay hands on the heritage, under presence of seeking for the papers of the dead man. But the inheritance consisted in this only, a scrap of paper on which Spada had written:--'I bequeath to my beloved nephew my coffers, my books, and, amongst others, my breviary with the gold corners, which I beg he will preserve in remembrance of his affectionate uncle.' "The heirs sought everywhere, admired the breviary, laid hands on the furniture, and were greatly astonished that Spada, the rich man, was really the most miserable of uncles--no treasures--unless they were those of science, contained in the library and laboratories. That was all. Caesar and his father searched, examined, scrutinized, but found nothing, or at least very little; not exceeding a few thousand crowns in plate, and about the same in ready money; but the nephew had time to say to his wife before he expired: 'Look well among my uncle's papers; there is a will.' "They sought even more thoroughly than the august heirs had done, but it was fruitless. There were two palaces and a vineyard behind the Palatine Hill; but in these days landed property had not much value, and the two palaces and the vineyard remained to the family since they were beneath the rapacity of the pope and his son. Months and years rolled on. Alexander VI. died, poisoned,--you know by what mistake. Caesar, poisoned at the same time, escaped by shedding his skin like a snake; but the new skin was spotted by the poison till it looked like a tiger's. Then, compelled to quit Rome, he went and got himself obscurely killed in a night skirmish, scarcely noticed in history. After the pope's death and his son's exile, it was supposed that the Spada family would resume the splendid position they had held before the cardinal's time; but this was not the case. The Spadas remained in doubtful ease, a mystery hung over this dark affair, and the public rumor was, that Caesar, a better politician than his father, had carried off from the pope the fortune of the two cardinals. I say the two, because Cardinal Rospigliosi, who had not taken any precaution, was completely despoiled. "Up to this point," said Faria, interrupting the thread of his narrative, "this seems to you very meaningless, no doubt, eh?" "Oh, my friend," cried Dantes, "on the contrary, it seems as if I were reading a most interesting narrative; go on, I beg of you." "I will." "The family began to get accustomed to their obscurity. Years rolled on, and amongst the descendants some were soldiers, others diplomatists; some churchmen, some bankers; some grew rich, and some were ruined. I come now to the last of the family, whose secretary I was--the Count of Spada. I had often heard him complain of the disproportion of his rank with his fortune; and I advised him to invest all he had in an annuity.

He did so, and thus doubled his income. The celebrated breviary remained in the family, and was in the count's possession. It had been handed down from father to son; for the singular clause of the only will that had been found, had caused it to be regarded as a genuine relic, preserved in the family with superstitious veneration. It was an illuminated book, with beautiful Gothic characters, and so weighty with gold, that a servant always carried it before the cardinal on days of great solemnity. "At the sight of papers of all sorts,--titles, contracts, parchments, which were kept in the archives of the family, all descending from the poisoned cardinal, I in my turn examined the immense bundles of documents, like twenty servitors, stewards, secretaries before me; but in spite of the most exhaustive researches, I found--nothing. Yet I had read, I had even written a precise history of the Borgia family, for the sole purpose of assuring myself whether any increase of fortune had occurred to them on the death of the Cardinal Caesar Spada; but could only trace the acquisition of the property of the Cardinal Rospigliosi, his companion in misfortune. "I was then almost assured that the inheritance had neither profited the Borgias nor the family, but had remained unpossessed like the treasures of the Arabian Nights, which slept in the bosom of the earth under the eyes of the genie. I searched, ransacked, counted, calculated a thousand and a thousand times the income and expenditure of the family for three hundred years. It was useless. I remained in my ignorance, and the Count of Spada in his poverty. My patron died. He had reserved from his annuity his family papers, his library, composed of five thousand volumes, and his famous breviary. All these he bequeathed to me, with a thousand Roman crowns, which he had in ready money, on condition that I would have anniversary masses said for the repose of his soul, and that I would draw up a genealogical tree and history of his house. All this I did scrupulously. Be easy, my dear Edmond, we are near the conclusion. "In 1807, a month before I was arrested, and a fortnight after the death of the Count of Spada, on the 25th of December (you will see presently how the date became fixed in my memory), I was reading, for the thousandth time, the papers I was arranging, for the palace was sold to a stranger, and I was going to leave Rome and settle at Florence, intending to take with me twelve thousand francs I possessed, my library, and the famous breviary, when, tired with my constant labor at the same thing, and overcome by a heavy dinner I had eaten, my head dropped on my hands, and I fell asleep about three o'clock in the afternoon. I awoke as the clock was striking six. I raised my head; I was in utter darkness. I rang for a light, but as no one came, I determined to find one for myself. It was indeed but anticipating the simple manners which I should soon be under the necessity of adopting. I took a wax-candle in one hand, and with the other groped about for a piece of paper (my match-box being empty), with which I proposed to get a light from the small flame still playing on the embers. Fearing,

however, to make use of any valuable piece of paper, I hesitated for a moment, then recollected that I had seen in the famous breviary, which was on the table beside me, an old paper quite yellow with age, and which had served as a marker for centuries, kept there by the request of the heirs. I felt for it, found it, twisted it up together, and putting it into the expiring flame, set light to it. "But beneath my fingers, as if by magic, in proportion as the fire ascended, I saw yellowish characters appear on the paper. I grasped it in my hand, put out the flame as quickly as I could, lighted my taper in the fire itself, and opened the crumpled paper with inexpressible emotion, recognizing, when I had done so, that these characters had been traced in mysterious and sympathetic ink, only appearing when exposed to the fire; nearly one-third of the paper had been consumed by the flame. It was that paper you read this morning; read it again, Dantes, and then I will complete for you the incomplete words and unconnected sense." Faria, with an air of triumph, offered the paper to Dantes, who this time read the following words, traced with an ink of a reddish color resembling rust:-"This 25th day of April, 1498, be... Alexander VI., and fearing that not... he may desire to become my heir, and re... and Bentivoglio, who were poisoned,... my sole heir, that I have bu... and has visited with me, that is, in... Island of Monte Cristo, all I poss... jewels, diamonds, gems; that I alone... may amount to nearly two mil... will find on raising the twentieth ro... creek to the east in a right line. Two open... in these caves; the treasure is in the furthest a... which treasure I bequeath and leave en... as my sole heir. "25th April, 1498. "Caes... "And now," said the abbe, "read this other paper;" and he presented to Dantes a second leaf with fragments of lines written on it, which Edmond read as follows:-"...ing invited to dine by his Holiness ...content with making me pay for my hat, ...serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara ...I declare to my nephew, Guido Spada ...ried in a place he knows ...the caves of the small ...essed of ingots, gold, money, ...know of the existence of this treasure, which

...lions of Roman crowns, and which he ...ck from the small ...ings have been made ...ngle in the second; ...tire to him ...ar Spada." Faria followed him with an excited look, "and now," he said, when he saw that Dantes had read the last line, "put the two fragments together, and judge for yourself." Dantes obeyed, and the conjointed pieces gave the following:-"This 25th day of April, 1498, be...ing invited to dine by his Holiness Alexander VI., and fearing that not...content with making me pay for my hat, he may desire to become my heir, and re...serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara and Bentivoglio, who were poisoned...I declare to my nephew, Guido Spada, my sole heir, that I have bu...ried in a place he knows and has visited with me, that is, in...the caves of the small Island of Monte Cristo all I poss...ssed of ingots, gold, money, jewels, diamonds, gems; that I alone...know of the existence of this treasure, which may amount to nearly two mil...lions of Roman crowns, and which he will find on raising the twentieth ro...ck from the small creek to the east in a right line. Two open...ings have been made in these caves; the treasure is in the furthest a...ngle in the second; which treasure I bequeath and leave en...tire to him as my sole heir. "25th April, 1498. "Caes...ar Spada." "Well, do you comprehend now?" inquired Faria. "It is the declaration of Cardinal Spada, and the will so long sought for," replied Edmond, still incredulous. "Yes; a thousand times, yes!" "And who completed it as it now is?" "I did. Aided by the remaining fragment, I guessed the rest; measuring the length of the lines by those of the paper, and divining the hidden meaning by means of what was in part revealed, as we are guided in a cavern by the small ray of light above us." "And what did you do when you arrived at this conclusion?" "I resolved to set out, and did set out at that very instant, carrying with me the beginning of my great work, the unity of the Italian kingdom; but for some time the imperial police (who at this period, quite contrary to what Napoleon desired so soon as he had a son born to him, wished for a partition of provinces) had their eyes on me; and my hasty departure, the cause of which they were unable to guess, having aroused their suspicions, I was arrested at the very moment I was

leaving Piombino. "Now," continued Faria, addressing Dantes with an almost paternal expression, "now, my dear fellow, you know as much as I do myself. If we ever escape together, half this treasure is yours; if I die here, and you escape alone, the whole belongs to you." "But," inquired Dantes hesitating, "has this treasure no more legitimate possessor in the world than ourselves?" "No, no, be easy on that score; the family is extinct. The last Count of Spada, moreover, made me his heir, bequeathing to me this symbolic breviary, he bequeathed to me all it contained; no, no, make your mind satisfied on that point. If we lay hands on this fortune, we may enjoy it without remorse." "And you say this treasure amounts to"-"Two millions of Roman crowns; nearly thirteen millions of our money." [*] * $2,600,000 in 1894. "Impossible!" said Dantes, staggered at the enormous amount. "Impossible? and why?" asked the old man. "The Spada family was one of the oldest and most powerful families of the fifteenth century; and in those times, when other opportunities for investment were wanting, such accumulations of gold and jewels were by no means rare; there are at this day Roman families perishing of hunger, though possessed of nearly a million in diamonds and jewels, handed down by entail, and which they cannot touch." Edmond thought he was in a dream--he wavered between incredulity and joy. "I have only kept this secret so long from you," continued Faria, "that I might test your character, and then surprise you. Had we escaped before my attack of catalepsy, I should have conducted you to Monte Cristo; now," he added, with a sigh, "it is you who will conduct me thither. Well, Dantes, you do not thank me?" "This treasure belongs to you, my dear friend," replied Dantes, "and to you only. I have no right to it. I am no relation of yours." "You are my son, Dantes," exclaimed the old man. "You are the child of my captivity. My profession condemns me to celibacy. God has sent you to me to console, at one and the same time, the man who could not be a father, and the prisoner who could not get free." 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.

Chapter 19. The Third Attack. Now that this treasure, 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, it had doubled its value in his eyes, and every day he expatiated on the amount, explaining to Dantes all the good which, with thirteen or fourteen millions of francs, a man could do in these days to his friends; and then Dantes' countenance became gloomy, for the oath of vengeance he had taken recurred to his memory, and he reflected how much ill, in these times, a man with thirteen or fourteen millions could do to his enemies. The abbe did not know the Island of Monte Cristo; but Dantes knew it, and had often passed it, situated twenty-five miles from Pianosa, between Corsica and the Island of Elba, and had once touched there. This island was, always had been, and still is, completely deserted. It is a rock of almost conical form, which looks as though it had been thrust up by volcanic force from the depth to the surface of the ocean. Dantes drew a plan of the island for Faria, and Faria gave Dantes advice as to the means he should employ to recover the treasure. But Dantes was far from being as enthusiastic and confident as the old man. It was past a question now that Faria was not a lunatic, and the way in which he had achieved the discovery, which had given rise to the suspicion of his madness, increased Edmond's admiration of him; but at the same time Dantes could not believe that the deposit, supposing it had ever existed, still existed; and though he considered the treasure as by no means chimerical, he yet believed it was no longer there. However, as if fate resolved on depriving the prisoners of their last chance, and making them understand that they were condemned to perpetual imprisonment, a new misfortune befell them; the gallery on the sea side, which had long been in ruins, was rebuilt. They had repaired it completely, and stopped up with vast masses of stone the hole Dantes had partly filled in. But for this precaution, which, it will be remembered, the abbe had made to Edmond, the misfortune would have been still greater, for their attempt to escape would have been detected, and they would undoubtedly have been separated. Thus a new, a stronger, and more inexorable barrier was interposed to cut off the realization of their hopes. "You see," said the young man, with an air of sorrowful resignation, to Faria, "that God deems it right to take from me any claim to merit for what you call my devotion to you. I have promised to remain forever with you, and now I could not break my promise if I would. The treasure will be no more mine than yours, and neither of us will quit this prison. But my real treasure is not that, my dear friend, which awaits me beneath the sombre rocks of Monte Cristo, it is your presence, our living together five or six hours a day, in spite of our jailers; it is the

rays of intelligence you have elicited from my brain, the languages you have implanted in my memory, and which have taken root there with all their philological ramifications. 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, my beloved friend, and with this you have made me rich and happy. Believe me, and take comfort, this is better for me than tons of gold and cases of diamonds, even were they not as problematical as the clouds we see in the morning floating over the sea, which we take for terra firma, and which evaporate and vanish as we draw near to them. To have you as long as possible near me, to hear your eloquent speech,--which embellishes my mind, strengthens my soul, and makes my whole frame capable of great and terrible things, if I should ever be free,--so fills my whole existence, that the despair to which I was just on the point of yielding when I knew you, has no longer any hold over me; and this--this is my fortune--not chimerical, but actual. I owe you my real good, my present happiness; and all the sovereigns of the earth, even Caesar Borgia himself, could not deprive me of this." Thus, if not actually happy, yet the days these two unfortunates passed together went quickly. Faria, who for so long a time had kept silence as to the treasure, now perpetually talked of it. As he had prophesied would be the case, he remained paralyzed in the right arm and the left leg, and had given up all hope of ever enjoying it himself. But he was continually thinking over some means of escape for his young companion, and anticipating the pleasure he would enjoy. For fear the letter might be some day lost or stolen, he compelled Dantes to learn it by heart; and Dantes knew it from the first to the last word. Then he destroyed the second portion, assured that if the first were seized, no one would be able to discover its real meaning. Whole hours sometimes passed while Faria was giving instructions to Dantes,--instructions which were to serve him when he was at liberty. Then, once free, from the day and hour and moment when he was so, he could have but one only thought, which was, to gain Monte Cristo by some means, and remain there alone under some pretext which would arouse no suspicions; and once there, to endeavor to find the wonderful caverns, and search in the appointed spot,--the appointed spot, be it remembered, being the farthest angle in the second opening. In the meanwhile the hours passed, if not rapidly, at least tolerably. Faria, as we have said, without having recovered the use of his hand and foot, had regained all the clearness of his understanding, and had gradually, besides the moral instructions we have detailed, taught his youthful companion the patient and sublime duty of a prisoner, who learns to make something from nothing. They were thus perpetually employed,--Faria, that he might not see himself grow old; Dantes, for fear of recalling the almost extinct past which now only floated in his memory like a distant light wandering in the night. 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. But beneath this superficial calm there were in the heart of the young man, and perhaps in that of the old man, many repressed desires, many stifled sighs, which found vent when Faria was left alone, and when Edmond returned to his cell. One night Edmond awoke suddenly, believing that he heard some one calling him. He opened his eyes upon utter darkness. His name, or rather a plaintive voice which essayed to pronounce his name, reached him. He sat up in bed and a cold sweat broke out upon his brow. Undoubtedly the call came from Faria's dungeon. "Alas," murmured Edmond; "can it be?" He moved his bed, drew up the stone, rushed into the passage, and reached the opposite extremity; the secret entrance was open. By the light of the wretched and wavering lamp, of which we have spoken, Dantes saw the old man, pale, but yet erect, clinging to the bedstead. His features were writhing with those horrible symptoms which he already knew, and which had so seriously alarmed him when he saw them for the first time. "Alas, my dear friend," said Faria in a resigned tone, "you understand, do you not, and I need not attempt to explain to you?" Edmond uttered a cry of agony, and, quite out of his senses, rushed towards the door, exclaiming, "Help, help!" Faria had just sufficient strength to restrain him. "Silence," he said, "or you are lost. We must now only think of you, my dear friend, and so act as to render your captivity supportable or your flight possible. It would require years to do again what I have done here, and the results would be instantly destroyed if our jailers knew we had communicated with each other. Besides, be assured, my dear Edmond, the dungeon I am about to leave will not long remain empty; some other unfortunate being will soon take my place, and to him you will appear like an angel of salvation. Perhaps he will be young, strong, and enduring, like yourself, and will aid you in your escape, while I have been but a hindrance. You will no longer have half a dead body tied to you as a drag to all your movements. At length providence has done something for you; he restores to you more than he takes away, and it was time I should die." Edmond could only clasp his hands and exclaim, "Oh, my friend, my friend, speak not thus!" and then resuming all his presence of mind, which had for a moment staggered under this blow, and his strength, which had failed at the words of the old man, he said, "Oh, I have saved you once, and I will save you a second time!" And raising the foot of the bed, he drew out the phial, still a third filled with the red liquor. "See," he exclaimed, "there remains still some of the magic draught.

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

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

shadows passed over the countenance of the dead man, and at times gave it the appearance of life. While the struggle between day and night lasted, Dantes still doubted; but as soon as the daylight gained the pre-eminence, he saw that he was alone with a corpse. Then an invincible and extreme terror seized upon him, and he dared not again press the hand that hung out of bed, he dared no longer to gaze on those fixed and vacant eyes, which he tried many times to close, but in vain--they opened again as soon as shut. He extinguished the lamp, carefully concealed it, and then went away, closing as well as he could the entrance to the secret passage by the large stone as he descended. It was time, for the jailer was coming. On this occasion he began his rounds at Dantes' cell, and on leaving him he went on to Faria's dungeon, taking thither breakfast and some linen. Nothing betokened that the man knew anything of what had occurred. He went on his way. Dantes was then seized with an indescribable desire to know what was going on in the dungeon of his unfortunate friend. He therefore returned by the subterraneous gallery, and arrived in time to hear the exclamations of the turnkey, who called out for help. Other turnkeys came, and then was heard the regular tramp of soldiers. Last of all came the governor. Edmond heard the creaking of the bed as they moved the corpse, heard the voice of the governor, who asked them to throw water on the dead man's face; and seeing that, in spite of this application, the prisoner did not recover, they sent for the doctor. The governor then went out, and words of pity fell on Dantes' listening ears, mingled with brutal laughter. "Well, well," said one, "the madman has gone to look after his treasure. Good journey to him!" "With all his millions, he will not have enough to pay for his shroud!" said another. "Oh," added a third voice, "the shrouds of the Chateau d'If are not dear!" "Perhaps," said one of the previous speakers, "as he was a churchman, they may go to some expense in his behalf." "They may give him the honors of the sack." Edmond did not lose a word, but comprehended very little of what was said. The voices soon ceased, and it seemed to him as if every one had left the cell. Still he dared not to enter, as they might have left some turnkey to watch the dead. He remained, therefore, mute and motionless, hardly venturing to breathe. At the end of an hour, he heard a faint noise, which increased. It was the governor who returned, followed by

the doctor and other attendants. There was a moment's silence,--it was evident that the doctor was examining the dead body. The inquiries soon commenced. The doctor analyzed the symptoms of the malady to which the prisoner had succumbed, and declared that he was dead. Questions and answers followed in a nonchalant manner that made Dantes indignant, for he felt that all the world should have for the poor abbe a love and respect equal to his own. "I am very sorry for what you tell me," said the governor, replying to the assurance of the doctor, "that the old man is really dead; for he was a quiet, inoffensive prisoner, happy in his folly, and required no watching." "Ah," added the turnkey, "there was no occasion for watching him: he would have stayed here fifty years, I'll answer for it, without any attempt to escape." "Still," said the governor, "I believe it will be requisite, notwithstanding your certainty, and not that I doubt your science, but in discharge of my official duty, that we should be perfectly assured that the prisoner is dead." There was a moment of complete silence, during which Dantes, still listening, knew that the doctor was examining the corpse a second time. "You may make your mind easy," said the doctor; "he is dead. I will answer for that." "You know, sir," said the governor, persisting, "that we are not content in such cases as this with such a simple examination. In spite of all appearances, be so kind, therefore, as to finish your duty by fulfilling the formalities described by law." "Let the irons be heated," said the doctor; "but really it is a useless precaution." This order to heat the irons made Dantes shudder. He heard hasty steps, the creaking of a door, people going and coming, and some minutes afterwards a turnkey entered, saying,-"Here is the brazier, lighted." There was a moment's silence, and then was heard the crackling of burning flesh, of which the peculiar and nauseous smell penetrated even behind the wall where Dantes was listening in horror. The perspiration poured forth upon the young man's brow, and he felt as if he should faint. "You see, sir, he is really dead," said the doctor; "this burn in the heel is decisive. The poor fool is cured of his folly, and delivered from his captivity." "Wasn't his name Faria?" inquired one of the officers who accompanied

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

"Why, about ten or eleven o'clock." "Shall we watch by the corpse?" "Of what use would it be? Shut the dungeon as if he were alive--that is all." Then the steps retreated, and the voices died away in the distance; the noise of the door, with its creaking hinges and bolts ceased, and a silence more sombre than that of solitude ensued,--the silence of death, which was all-pervasive, and struck its icy chill to the very soul of Dantes. Then he raised the flag-stone cautiously with his head, and looked carefully around the chamber. It was empty, and Dantes emerged from the tunnel.

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

to live; I shall struggle to the very last; I will yet win back the happiness of which I have been deprived. Before I die I must not forget that I have my executioners to punish, and perhaps, too, who knows, some friends to reward. Yet they will forget me here, and I shall die in my dungeon like Faria." As he said this, he became silent and gazed straight before him like one overwhelmed with a strange and amazing thought. Suddenly he arose, lifted his hand to his brow as if his brain were giddy, paced twice or thrice round the dungeon, and then paused abruptly by the bed. "Just God!" he muttered, "whence comes this thought? Is it from thee? Since none but the dead pass freely from this dungeon, let me take the place of the dead!" Without giving himself time to reconsider his decision, and, indeed, that he might not allow his thoughts to be distracted from his desperate resolution, he bent over the appalling shroud, opened it with the knife which Faria had made, drew the corpse from the sack, and bore it along the tunnel to his own chamber, laid it on his couch, tied around its head the rag he wore at night around his own, covered it with his counterpane, once again kissed the ice-cold brow, and tried vainly to close the resisting eyes, which glared horribly, turned the head towards the wall, so that the jailer might, when he brought the evening meal, believe that he was asleep, as was his frequent custom; entered the tunnel again, drew the bed against the wall, returned to the other cell, took from the hiding-place the needle and thread, flung off his rags, that they might feel only naked flesh beneath the coarse canvas, and getting inside the sack, placed himself in the posture in which the dead body had been laid, and sewed up the mouth of the sack from the inside. He would have been discovered by the beating of his heart, if by any mischance the jailers had entered at that moment. Dantes might have waited until the evening visit was over, but he was afraid that the governor would change his mind, and order the dead body to be removed earlier. In that case his last hope would have been destroyed. Now his plans were fully made, and this is what he intended to do. If while he was being carried out the grave-diggers should discover that they were bearing a live instead of a dead body, Dantes did not intend to give them time to recognize him, but with a sudden cut of the knife, he meant to open the sack from top to bottom, and, profiting by their alarm, escape; if they tried to catch him, he would use his knife to better purpose. If they took him to the cemetery and laid him in a grave, he would allow himself to be covered with earth, and then, as it was night, the grave-diggers could scarcely have turned their backs before he would have worked his way through the yielding soil and escaped. He hoped that the weight of earth would not be so great that he could not overcome it. If he was detected in this and the earth proved too heavy, he would be stifled, and then--so much the better, all would be over. Dantes had not eaten since the preceding evening, but he had not thought of hunger, nor

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

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

whose waves foamed and roared as if before the approach of a storm. and as he did so he uttered a shrill cry. for he usually attracted a crowd of spectators in the bay before the lighthouse at Marseilles when he swam there. and was dragged into its depths by a thirty-six pound shot tied to his feet. Dantes. Ratonneau and Pomegue are the nearest islands of all those that surround the Chateau d'If. With a mighty leap he rose to the surface of the sea. before him was the vast expanse of waters. at the moment when it seemed as if he were actually strangled. Dantes waited only to get breath.took him. rose phantom-like the vast stone structure. When he arose a second time. he darted like an arrow into the ice-cold water. Chapter 21. but in spite of all his efforts to free himself from the shot. across which the wind was driving clouds that occasionally suffered a twinkling star to appear. he was fifty paces from where he had first sunk. This was an easy feat to him. whose projecting crags seemed like arms extended to seize their prey. falling. had sufficient presence of mind to hold his breath. and then his body. Dantes dived again. with a horrible splash. in order to avoid being seen. and then dived. he felt it dragging him down still lower. falling. he rapidly ripped up the sack. and swung him to and fro. Although drawn downwards by the heavy weight which hastened his rapid descent. When he came up again the light had disappeared. but Ratonneau and Pomegue are inhabited. with a rapidity that made his blood curdle. and as his right hand (prepared as he was for every chance) held his knife open. blacker than the sky. Dantes had been flung into the sea. The Island of Tiboulen. doubtless these strange grave-diggers had heard his cry. and remained a long time beneath the water. Tiboulen and . At last. as is also the islet of Daume. and on the highest rock was a torch lighting two figures. "One!" said the grave-diggers. one by the head and the other by the heels. He then bent his body. Behind him. although stunned and almost suffocated. The sea is the cemetery of the Chateau d'If. and was unanimously declared to be the best swimmer in the port. stifled in a moment by his immersion beneath the waves. He saw overhead a black and tempestuous sky. and by a desperate effort severed the cord that bound his legs. it seemed to him as if the fall lasted for a century. He fancied that these two forms were looking at the sea. while the shot dragged down to the depths the sack that had so nearly become his shroud. He must now get his bearings. blacker than the sea. extricated his arm. sombre and terrible. "two! three!" And at the same instant Dantes felt himself flung into the air like a wounded bird.

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

Above the splintered mast a sail rent to tatters was waving. vast gray clouds rolled towards the west. Then all was dark again. a flash of lightning. but when the sea became more calm. and that it would. the waves whitened.At the expiration of an hour Edmond was awakened by the roar of thunder. in fact. and it disappeared in the darkness of the night like a vast sea-bird. break moorings. a quarter of a league distant. from time to time a flash of lightning stretched across the heavens like a fiery serpent. Soon a red streak became visible in the horizon. The tempest was let loose and beating the atmosphere with its mighty wings. the waves. and the blue firmament appeared studded with bright stars. he groped about. and scarcely had he availed himself of it when the tempest burst forth in all its fury. between the Island of Lemaire and Cape Croiselle. approaching with frightful rapidity. and drank greedily of the rainwater that had lodged in a hollow of the rock. He knew that it was barren and without shelter. The men he beheld saw him undoubtedly. As he rose. which was. but they saw it themselves. Dantes saw a fishing-boat driven rapidly like a spectre before the power of winds and waves. Tiboulen. and gilded their foaming crests with gold. He extended his hands. that seemed to rive the remotest heights of heaven. and the tempest continued to rage. . illumined the darkness. Dantes ran down the rocks at the risk of being himself dashed to pieces. he resolved to plunge into its waves again. Edmond felt the trembling of the rock beneath which he lay. for their cries were carried to his ears by the wind. By degrees the wind abated. dashing themselves against it. and swim to Lemaire. lighting up the clouds that rolled on in vast chaotic waves. A second after. Dantes from his rocky perch saw the shattered vessel. and yet he felt dizzy in the midst of the warring of the elements and the dazzling brightness of the lightning. suddenly the ropes that still held it gave way. but larger. while a fifth clung to the broken rudder. Dantes had not been deceived--he had reached the first of the two islands. Another flash showed him four men clinging to the shattered mast and the rigging. but he heard and saw nothing--the cries had ceased. Dantes cried at the top of his voice to warn them of their danger. and consequently better adapted for concealment. By its light. equally arid. and cries of distress. a light played over them. wetted him with their spray. It seemed to him that the island trembled to its base. He then recollected that he had not eaten or drunk for four-and-twenty hours. It was day. and among the fragments the floating forms of the hapless sailors. He was safely sheltered. An overhanging rock offered him a temporary shelter. like a vessel at anchor. and bear him off into the centre of the storm. At the same moment a violent crash was heard. he listened. he saw it again.

Then boats filled with armed soldiers will pursue the wretched fugitive. My story will be accepted. will be questioned. The gloomy building rose from the bosom of the ocean with imposing majesty and seemed to dominate the scene. "In two or three hours. and conveyed back to Marseilles! What can I do? What story can I invent? under pretext of trading along the coast. and was standing out to sea rapidly. perhaps I have not been missed at the fortress. these men. The red cap of one of the sailors hung to a point of the rock and some timbers that had formed part of the vessel's keel. But I cannot---.I am starving. "the turnkey will enter my chamber. It was about five o'clock. I must wait. and started. did I not fear being questioned. The police of Marseilles will be on the alert by land. will prefer selling me to doing a good action. I have suffered enough surely! Have pity on me. and indeed since his captivity in the Chateau d'If he had forgotten that such scenes were ever to be witnessed. In a few hours my strength will be utterly exhausted. seek for me in vain. floated at the foot of the crag. the men who cast me into the sea and who must have heard the cry I uttered. Then the tunnel will be discovered. Dantes looked toward the spot where the fishing-vessel had been wrecked." As he spoke. He turned towards the fortress. O my God. She was coming out of Marseilles harbor. For an instant he feared lest. but he soon saw that she would pass. "to think that in half an hour I could join her. He swam to the cap. And this conviction restored his strength. recognize it. as if he now beheld it for the first time.Dantes stood mute and motionless before this majestic spectacle. besides. with the wind dead ahead. detected. He soon saw that the vessel." cried Edmond." As Dantes (his eyes turned in the direction of the Chateau d'If) uttered this prayer. and struck out so as to cut across the course the vessel was taking. placed it on his head. who are in reality smugglers. for there is no one left to contradict me. I have lost even the knife that saved me. I am cold. The sea continued to get calmer. "I am saved!" murmured he. . and give the alarm. whilst the governor pursues me by sea. her sharp prow cleaving through the waves. and with his sailor's eye he knew it to be a Genoese tartan." thought Dantes. In an instant Dantes' plan was formed. 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 am hungry. was tacking between the Chateau d'If and the tower of Planier. seized one of the timbers. "Oh. instead of keeping in shore. and do for me what I am unable to do for myself. The cannon will warn every one to refuse shelter to a man wandering about naked and famished. find the body of my poor friend. she should stand out to sea. and looked at both sea and land. I can pass as one of the sailors wrecked last night. like most vessels bound for Italy.

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

though. but I am a good sailor. I have barely escaped. and your hair a foot long. "I am." said a sailor of a frank and manly appearance." "I almost hesitated." replied Dantes. Leave me at the first port you make." said he. "I made a vow. in bad Italian. We were coming from Syracuse laden with grain. You have saved my life. and I thank you. I saw your vessel. "Who are you?" said the pilot in bad French." "You know the best harbors?" "There are few ports that I could not enter or leave with a bandage over my eyes. My captain is dead." "Yes. I shall be sure to find employment. "I was lost when one of your sailors caught hold of my hair." "Do you know the Mediterranean?" "I have sailed over it since my childhood. with your beard six inches. I swam off on a piece of wreckage to try and intercept your course. anything you please." "Now what are we to do with you?" said the captain. what hinders his staying with us?" ." returned Dantes. for you were sinking." replied the sailor. "I thank you again. "if what he says is true. "and it was time. "Alas. but to-day the vow expires.A few drops of the rum restored suspended animation. "a Maltese sailor." continued Dantes." "I say. holding out his hand." Dantes recollected that his hair and beard had not been cut all the time he was at the Chateau d'If. "you looked more like a brigand than an honest man." "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." said the sailor who had cried "Courage!" to Dantes. while the friction of his limbs restored their elasticity. and fearful of being left to perish on the desolate island. captain. and we were wrecked on these rocks." "It was I. The storm of last night overtook us at Cape Morgion. "Yes. 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.

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

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

and who live by hidden and mysterious means which we must suppose to be a direct gift of providence." returned Jacopo. he had at first thought that Dantes might be an emissary of these industrious guardians of rights and duties. with the small boats sailing along the coast. the worthy master of The Young Amelia (the name of the Genoese tartan) knew a smattering of all the tongues spoken on the shores of that large lake called the Mediterranean. and heard the distant report. who are always seen on the quays of seaports. This oath was no longer a vain menace. But the skilful manner in which Dantes had handled the lugger had entirely reassured him. that with every stitch of canvas set was flying before the wind to Leghorn. A sorrowful smile passed over his face. while it spared him interpreters. was accompanied . from the Arabic to the Provencal. Fernand. and Villefort the oath of implacable vengeance he had made in his dungeon. and then. Then his eyes lighted up with hatred as he thought of the three men who had caused him so long and wretched a captivity. It is fair to assume that Dantes was on board a smuggler. either with the vessels he met at sea. He was very well known to the customs officers of the coast. country. smiling. when he saw the light plume of smoke floating above the bastion of the Chateau d'If. At first the captain had received Dantes on board with a certain degree of distrust. It was fourteen years day for day since Dantes' arrest. or with the people without name." replied Dantes. and as there was between these worthies and himself a perpetual battle of wits. gave him great facilities of communication. The Smugglers. "I ask you in what year!" "You have forgotten then?" "I got such a fright last night. He was nineteen when he entered the Chateau d'If. he was thirty-three when he escaped. for the fastest sailer in the Mediterranean would have been unable to overtake the little tartan. who must believe him dead."In what year--you ask me in what year?" "Yes. "that I have almost lost my memory. as they have no visible means of support." replied the young man. 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. like that of kings. He renewed against Danglars. he asked himself what had become of Mercedes. I ask you what year is it?" "The year 1829. Without having been in the school of the Abbe Faria. Chapter 22. persons always troublesome and frequently indiscreet. who perhaps employed this ingenious means of learning some of the secrets of his trade. and this. or occupation. he was instantly struck with the idea that he had on board his vessel one whose coming and going.

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

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

for he remained alone upon deck.Fortunately. for he had not forgotten a word. and everything proceeded with the utmost smoothness and politeness. and Edmond saw the island tinged with the shades of twilight. the excise was. continued to behold it last of all. where they intended to take in a cargo." He had. the position of these was no doubt a signal for landing. had they not died with him? It is true. A customs officer was laid low. from one end to the other. Dantes was one of the latter. with vision accustomed to the gloom of a prison. sherry. such a man of regularity was the patron of The Young Amelia. can throw a four ounce ball a thousand paces or so. and. This new cargo was destined for the coast of the Duchy of Lucca. mounted two small culverins. a ball having touched him in the left shoulder. the profits were divided. for they were rude lessons which taught him with what eye he could view danger. without making much noise. and Malaga wines. this sight had made but slight impression upon him. There they had a bit of a skirmish in getting rid of the duties. The second operation was as successful as the first. in acknowledgement of the compliment. as he neared the land. the letter of the Cardinal Spada was singularly circumstantial. and when wounded had exclaimed with the great philosopher. But the voyage was not ended. moreover. for a ship's lantern was hung up at the mast-head instead of the streamer. Four shallops came off with very little noise alongside the lugger. He had contemplated danger with a smile. and each man had a hundred Tuscan livres. which was to replace what had been discharged. The Young Amelia was in luck. and was moving towards the end . and almost pleased at being wounded. in truth. Evening came. and with what endurance he could bear suffering. all day they coasted. and two sailors wounded. Dantes was on the way he desired to follow. Would he not have accepted liberty without riches if it had been offered to him? Besides. no doubt. looked upon the customs officer wounded to death. Dantes noticed that the captain of The Young Amelia had. he had waited fourteen years for his liberty. Dantes was almost glad of this affray. and then disappear in the darkness from all eyes but his own. and they came to within a gunshot of the shore. lowered her own shallop into the sea. whether from heat of blood produced by the encounter. "Pain. or the chill of human sentiment. which. thou art not an evil. But on this occasion the precaution was superfluous. which. 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. were not those riches chimerical?--offspring of the brain of the poor Abbe Faria. and consisted almost entirely of Havana cigars. the everlasting enemy of the patron of The Young Amelia. and now he was free he could wait at least six months or a year for wealth. and Dantes repeated it to himself. and in the evening saw fires lighted on land. The same night. for he. or about eighty francs. They turned the bowsprit towards Sardinia. The next morn broke off the coast of Aleria. Dantes had learned how to wait.

and Edmond had become as skilful a coaster as he had been a hardy seaman. gliding on with security over the azure sea. when the vessel. and taught him to read in that vast book opened over our heads which they call heaven. and sold to the smugglers by the old Sardinian women. and offered him in return for his attention a share of his prize-money. he could not devise any plan for reaching the island . Then he would be free to make his researches. He pointed out to him the bearings of the coast. And when Jacopo inquired of him. Prison had made Edmond prudent. the latter was moved to a certain degree of affection. became the instructor of Jacopo. for he would be doubtless watched by those who accompanied him. who instinctively felt that Edmond had a right to superiority of position--a superiority which Edmond had concealed from all others. Then in the long days on board ship. with a chart in his hand. Your fellow-countryman. Fortunately. He then formed a resolution. and where God writes in azure with letters of diamonds. had believed him killed. Edmond was only wounded. thanks to the favorable winds that swelled her sails. but Jacopo refused it indignantly. "Who knows? You may one day be the captain of a vessel. Jacopo. Bonaparte. and rushing towards him raised him up. But this sufficed for Jacopo. neither was it so wicked as Dantes thought it. and he was desirous of running no risk whatever. He had passed and re-passed his Island of Monte Cristo twenty times. as we have said. explained to him the variations of the compass. But in vain did he rack his imagination. and then attended to him with all the kindness of a devoted comrade. but not once had he found an opportunity of landing there. since this man. became emperor. not perhaps entirely at liberty. Two months and a half elapsed in these trips. his heart was in a fair way of petrifying in his bosom. As soon as his engagement with the patron of The Young Amelia ended. Edmond then resolved to try Jacopo. and learned all the Masonic signs by which these half pirates recognize each other. seeing him fall. But in this world we must risk something. As a result of the sympathetic devotion which Jacopo had from the first bestowed on Edmond. the wound soon closed.he wished to achieve. manifested so much sorrow when he saw him fall. as the poor Abbe Faria had been his tutor. And from this time the kindness which Edmond showed him was enough for the brave seaman. This world was not then so good as Doctor Pangloss believed it. who had nothing to expect from his comrade but the inheritance of his share of the prize-money. fertile as it was. he would hire a small vessel on his own account--for in his several voyages he had amassed a hundred piastres--and under some pretext land at the Island of Monte Cristo." We had forgotten to say that Jacopo was a Corsican. "What is the use of teaching all these things to a poor sailor like me?" Edmond replied. Edmond. required no care but the hand of the helmsman. and with certain herbs gathered at certain seasons. he had formed an acquaintance with all the smugglers on the coast.

and having neither soldiers nor revenue officers. This time it was a great matter that was under discussion. When he again joined the two persons who had been discussing the matter. Dantes was tossed about on these doubts and wishes. and took a turn around the smoky tavern. It was necessary to find some neutral ground on which an exchange could be made. If he closed his eyes. but which antiquity appears to have included in the same category. Already Dantes had visited this maritime Bourse two or three times. when the patron. Dantes was about to secure the opportunity he wished for. at length. being consulted. and cashmeres. If the venture was successful the profit would be enormous. and then to try and land these goods on the coast of France. it had been decided that they should touch at Monte Cristo and set out on the following night. by simple and natural means. seemed to have been placed in the midst of the ocean since the time of the heathen Olympus by Mercury. and was very desirous of retaining him in his service.without companionship. where all the languages of the known world were jumbled in a lingua franca. and orders were given to get under weigh next night. which being completely deserted. At the mention of Monte Cristo Dantes started with joy. the god of merchants and robbers. where the leading smugglers of Leghorn used to congregate and discuss affairs connected with their trade. Thus. Chapter 23. and seeing all these hardy free-traders. 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. and in its progress visions good and evil passed through Dantes' mind. there would be a gain of fifty or sixty piastres each for the crew. The night was one of feverish distraction. Edmond. classes of mankind which we in modern times have separated if not made distinct. connected with a vessel laden with Turkey carpets. The Island of Monte Cristo. Nothing then was altered in the plan. One night more and he would be on his way. he rose to conceal his emotion. 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. wind and weather permitting. he saw Cardinal Spada's letter written on the wall in characters of flame--if . and that great enterprises to be well done should be done quickly. stuffs of the Levant. was of opinion that the island afforded every possible security. who had great confidence in him. took him by the arm one evening and led him to a tavern on the Via del' Oglio. to make the neutral island by the following day. The patron of The Young Amelia proposed as a place of landing the Island of Monte Cristo. who supplied the whole coast for nearly two hundred leagues in extent. and land on the island without incurring any suspicion.

wonderstruck. Dantes. This frequently happened. for he too had recognized the superiority of Dantes over the crew and himself. and Dantes was then enabled to arrange a plan which had hitherto been vague and unsettled in his brain. but it brought reason to the aid of imagination. and went and lay down in his hammock. they sailed beneath a bright blue sky. or more poetical. but they had suddenly receded. his comrades obeyed him with celerity and pleasure. he could not close his eyes for a moment. and easy of execution. and regretted that he had not a daughter. but. and at ten minutes past seven they doubled the lighthouse just as the beacon was kindled. He ascended into grottos paved with emeralds. with a fresh breeze from the south-east. and all went to their bunks contentedly. The peak of Monte Cristo reddened by the burning sun. He had by degrees assumed such authority over his companions that he was almost like a commander on board. They were making nearly ten knots an hour. in spite of a sleepless night. All was useless. and beyond the flat but verdant Island of La Pianosa. He then endeavored to re-enter the marvellous grottos. When the Maltese (for so they called Dantes) had said this. it was sufficient. cast from solitude into the world. Pearls fell drop by drop. The Island of Monte Cristo loomed large in the horizon. He saw in the young man his natural successor. the treasure disappeared. The day came at length. Edmond resigned the lugger to the master's care. the vessel was hurrying on with every sail set. with panels of rubies. than that of a ship floating in isolation on the sea during the obscurity of the night. and he would take the helm. and with it the preparation for departure. and what solitude is more complete. The old patron did not interfere. was seen against the azure sky. when he discovered that his prizes had all changed into common pebbles. 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. Two hours afterwards he came on deck. distinct. and now the path became a labyrinth. filled his pockets with the radiant gems and then returned to daylight. and. in the silence of immensity. that he might have bound Edmond to him by a more secure alliance. At seven o'clock in the evening all was ready. and then the entrance vanished. The sea was calm. Edmond. as subterranean waters filter in their caves. They were just abreast of Mareciana. Night came. the night lighted up by his illusions. When the patron awoke. and as his orders were always clear. and the roof glowing with diamond stalactites. as the boat was about to double the Island of Elba. and under the eye of heaven? Now this solitude was peopled with his thoughts. each of which is a world. and every sail full with the breeze. amazed. frequently experienced an imperious desire for solitude. and these preparations served to conceal Dantes' agitation.he slept for a moment the wildest dreams haunted his brain. and had again reverted to the genii from whom for a moment he had hoped to carry it off. in which God also lighted up in turn his beacon lights. . Dantes told them that all hands might turn in. and was almost as feverish as the night had been. and the silence animated by his anticipations.

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

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

The sight of marks renewed Edmond fondest hopes. and severe pains in his loins. he declared. should have their meal. and ran quickly towards them. and they saw him stagger on the edge of a rock and disappear. As for himself. He found Edmond lying prone. was the only spot to which they seemed to lead. although under Jacopo's directions. marks made by the hand of man. a feeling of heaviness in his head. produced the same effect as formerly. which apparently had been made with some degree of regularity. as it invests all things of the mind with forgetfulness. who had not his reasons for fasting. and this remedy which had before been so beneficial to him. But even while they watched his daring progress. They wished to carry him to the shore. had got some water from a spring. They all rushed towards him. which he could not foresee would have been so complete. bleeding. Just at the moment when they were taking the dainty animal from the spit. Edmond concluded that perhaps instead of having reached the end of the route he had only explored its beginning. placed solidly on its base. in order that they might serve as a guide for his nephew in the event of a catastrophe. It may be supposed that Dantes did not now think of his dinner. Meanwhile his comrades had prepared the repast. which encrusts all physical substances with its mossy mantle. Only. seemed to have respected these signs. on certain rocks. Time. Might it not have been the cardinal himself who had first traced them. however. or beneath parasitical lichen. and probably with a definite purpose. complained of great pain in his knee. who was hidden from his comrades by the inequalities of the ground. The sportsman instantly changed his direction. they saw Edmond springing with the boldness of a chamois from rock to rock. that at sixty paces from the harbor the marks ceased. and they fired the signal agreed upon. Edmond opened his eyes. that he could not bear to be moved. with heavy groans. and almost senseless. He had rolled down a declivity of twelve or fifteen feet. for all loved Edmond in spite of his superiority. he thought he could trace. Occasionally the marks were hidden under tufts of myrtle. This solitary place was precisely suited to the requirements of a man desirous of burying treasure. to Edmond. and he therefore turned round and retraced his steps. They poured a little rum down his throat. nor did they terminate at any grotto. A large round rock. but he insisted that his comrades. which spread into large bushes laden with blossoms.object with serious attention. So Edmond had to separate the branches or brush away the moss to know where the guide-marks were. The . spread out the fruit and bread. yet Jacopo reached him first. Edmond's foot slipped. and cooked the kid. might not these betraying marks have attracted other eyes than those for whom they were made? and had the dark and wondrous island indeed faithfully guarded its precious secret? It seemed. but when they touched him. and that when they returned he should be easier. he declared that he had only need of a little rest.

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

the leaves of the myrtle and olive trees waved and rustled in the wind. Then." said Jacopo. yet Edmond felt himself alone. In a word. but nothing could shake his determination to remain--and remain alone. This feeling was so strong that at the moment when Edmond was . guided by the hand of God. the island was inhabited." A peculiar smile passed over Dantes' lips. which seemed themselves sensible of the heat. he squeezed Jacopo's hand warmly." "And give up your share of the venture. at least. At the end of an hour she was completely out of sight. weigh anchor. took his gun in one hand. "to remain with me?" "Yes. "now. and thence he saw the tartan complete her preparations for sailing. when they had disappeared." "You are a good fellow and a kind-hearted messmate. Captain Baldi. as if he could not move the rest of his body.--"'Tis strange that it should be among such men that we find proofs of friendship and devotion. remembering the tale of the Arabian fisherman. "and without any hesitation. "and heaven will recompense you for your generous intentions. open sesame!" Chapter 24."Listen." replied Edmond. hidden in the bushes." he exclaimed. his pickaxe in the other. The sun had nearly reached the meridian. from which he had a full view of the sea. it was impossible for the wounded man to see her any longer from the spot where he was. chirped with a monotonous and dull note. The Secret Cave. and." said Edmond. The smugglers left with Edmond what he had requested and set sail. and hastened towards the rock on which the marks he had noted terminated. balancing herself as gracefully as a water-fowl ere it takes to the wing." Then he dragged himself cautiously to the top of a rock. to which Edmond replied with his hand only. Thousands of grasshoppers. and I hope I shall find among the rocks certain herbs most excellent for bruises. but I do not wish any one to stay with me. 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 now. and each time making signs of a cordial farewell. which Faria had related to him. set sail. but not without turning about several times. afar off he saw the wild goats bounding from crag to crag. and his scorching rays fell full on the rocks. and I will stay and take care of the wounded man. Then Dantes rose more agile and light than the kid among the myrtles and shrubs of these wild rocks. "Do you go." said Jacopo. At every step that Edmond took he disturbed the lizards glittering with the hues of the emerald. he said with a smile. there's one way of settling this. A day or two of rest will set me up.

One thing only perplexed Edmond. without the aid of many men? Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind. seized his gun. myrtle-bushes had taken root. as we have said. for he dreaded lest an accident similar to that he had so adroitly feigned should happen in reality. and at the end of it had buried his treasure. while the blue ocean beat against the base of the island. was about to round the Island of Corsica. Dantes .about to begin his labor. cemented by the labor the wall gave opened. that he gazed. with its historical associations.--a statue on this vast pedestal of granite. and deep in the centre. thought he. Then following the clew that. which weighed several tons. and the tartan that had just set sail. the very houses of which he could distinguish. This creek was sufficiently wide at its mouth. and the old rock seemed fixed to the earth. had traced the marks along the rocks. or on Sardinia. and he had noticed that they led to a small creek. and grass and weeds had grown there. anxious not to be watched. After ten minutes' way. moss had clung to the stones. He attacked this hand of time. and covered it with a fringe of foam. the ingenious artifice. Instead of raising it. Dantes dug away the earth carefully. which would be perfectly concealed from observation. And he sprang from the rock in order to inspect the base on which it had formerly stood. He soon perceived that a slope had been formed. This sight reassured him. detected. It was this idea that had brought Dantes back to the circular rock. mounted to the summit of the highest rock. which was hidden like the bath of some ancient nymph. and a hole large enough to insert the arm was or fancied he wall. with his pickaxe. in the hands of the Abbe Faria. followed the line marked by the notches in the rock. nothing human appearing in sight. have been lifted to this spot. concealed his little barque. and from thence gazed round in every direction. Dantes. How could this rock. flints and pebbles had been inserted around it. A large stone had served as a wedge. Then he descended with cautious and slow step. It was at the brigantine that had left in the morning. and the rock had slid along this until it stopped at the spot it now occupied. and destroyed his theory. the other. he stopped. so as to conceal the orifice. The first was just disappearing in the straits of Bonifacio. he thought that the Cardinal Spada. He saw that he was on the highest point of the island. or on the Island of Elba. or upon the almost imperceptible line that to the experienced eye of a sailor alone revealed the coast of Genoa the proud. had been so skilfully used to guide him through the Daedalian labyrinth of probabilities. they have lowered it. this species of masonry had been covered with earth. following an opposite direction. and Leghorn the commercial. to admit of the entrance of a small vessel of the lugger class. that Edmond fixed his eyes. But it was not upon Corsica. laid down his pickaxe. had entered the creek. and detected. He then looked at the objects near him.

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

He reflected that this second grotto must penetrate deeper into the island. which he knew by heart. a smile on his lips. masked for precaution's sake. and the good abbe. However. but by the interstices and crevices of the rock which were visible from without." But he called to mind the words of the will. he. knew too well the value of time to waste it in replacing this rock." said Edmond." said the cardinal's will." thought Dantes. This fabulous event formed but a link in a long chain of marvels. perhaps two guards kept watch on land and sea. he examined the stones. like Caesar Borgia. I will go down. habituated as it was to darkness.And he remained again motionless and thoughtful. After having stood a few minutes in the cavern. could pierce even to the remotest angles of the cavern. he had now to seek the second. has indulged in fallacious hopes. "Yes. "these are the treasures the cardinal has left. Dantes continued his search. which. He had only found the first grotto." "Yet. Yes. saw that there. this is an adventure worthy a place in the varied career of that royal bandit. Dantes saw a dim and bluish light. while their master descended. "of those who buried Alaric. he who compared Italy to an artichoke. and through which he could distinguish the blue sky and the waving branches of the evergreen oaks. and sounded one part of the wall where he fancied the opening existed." replied he. a sword in the other. the atmosphere of which was rather warm than damp. had he come. "The fate. and within twenty paces. in order to avoid fruitless toil. he eagerly advanced. the opening must be. dispelling the darkness before his awe-inspiring progress. in all probability. yes. "In the farthest angle of the second opening. he sounded all the other walls with his . seeing in a dream these glittering walls. entered." Then he descended. smiling. Borgia has been here. and the tendrils of the creepers that grew from the rocks. At last it seemed to him that one part of the wall gave forth a more hollow and deeper echo. "Alas. which he could devour leaf by leaf. Dantes' eye. and the thick and mephitic atmosphere he had expected to find. "he would have found the treasure. a torch in one hand. smiling." "But what was the fate of the guards who thus possessed his secret?" asked Dantes of himself. The pickaxe struck for a moment with a dull sound that drew out of Dantes' forehead large drops of perspiration. and murmuring that last word of human philosophy. and. and with the quickness of perception that no one but a prisoner possesses. knew the value of time. and Borgia. which was of granite that sparkled like diamonds. as I am about to descend. at the foot of this rock. not merely by the aperture he had just formed. as well as the air. "Perhaps!" But instead of the darkness.

At the fifth or sixth blow the pickaxe struck against an iron substance. he placed it on the ground. and finding nothing that appeared suspicious. he inserted the point of his pickaxe. and the sun seemed to cover it with its fiery glance. a few small fishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean. produce a greater effect on the hearer. was buried in this corner. The second grotto was lower and more gloomy than the first. was now like a feather in his grasp. he seized it. he could still cling to hope. but by waiting. struck the earth with the butt of his gun. instead of giving him fresh strength. and fall at his feet. never did alarm-bell. or rather fell.pickaxe. At the left of the opening was a dark and deep angle. Dantes entered the second grotto. The aperture of the rock had been closed with stones. The island was deserted. but had been merely placed one upon the other. a desire to be assured that no one was watching him. and a feeling of discouragement stole over him. but with the iron tooth of the pickaxe to draw the stones towards him one by one. returned to that part of the wall whence issued the consoling sound he had before heard. The time had at length arrived. As he struck the wall. then this stucco had been applied. The treasure. and encountered the same resistance. He had nothing more to do now. 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. But to Dantes' eye there was no darkness. two feet of earth removed. and with greater force. but not the same sound. if it existed. Dantes struck with the sharp end of his pickaxe. After several blows he perceived that the stones were not cemented. and then went on. and using the handle as a lever. This last proof. with joy soon saw the stone turn as if on hinges. exposing a large white stone. so did his heart give way. At last. had not been deceived became stronger. The pickaxe that had seemed so heavy. It was there he must dig. as an excuse. which entered someway between the interstices. He again struck his pickaxe into the earth. and remounted the stairs. after renewed hesitation. and Dantes' fate would be decided. Had Dantes found nothing he could not have become more ghastly pale. But by some strange play of emotion. but he thought not of hunger at such a moment. He glanced around this second grotto. and covered with stucco. and retard the certainty of deception. and summoning all his resolution. passed his hand over his brow. it was. The aperture was already sufficiently large for him to enter. in proportion as the proofs that Faria. the pickaxe descended. attacked the ground with the pickaxe. He waited in order to allow pure air to displace the foul atmosphere. "It is a casket of wood bound with . he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum. He advanced towards the angle. and painted to imitate granite. empty. deprived him of it. pieces of stucco similar to that used in the ground work of arabesques broke off. like the first. Then a singular thing occurred. alleging to himself. and attacked the wall. and fell to the ground in flakes. Never did funeral knell. and again entered the cavern. Dantes had tasted nothing. He again struck it. afar off. but in reality because he felt that he was about to faint.

He wished to see everything. saw that his pickaxe had in reality struck against iron and wood. After having touched. Dantes easily recognized them. and the chest was open. and pressing with all his force on the handle. In an instant he had cleared every obstacle away. Dantes inserted the sharp end of the pickaxe between the coffer and the lid. Three compartments divided the coffer. all carved as things were carved at that epoch. pearls. In the first. bound with cut steel. He sought to open it. and Dantes could see an oaken coffer. felt. still holding in their grasp fragments of the 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." thought he. the arms of the Spada family--viz. This would have been a favorable occasion to secure his dinner. and mounted the stair. in the third. examined these treasures. and stood motionless with amazement. He thought a moment. which. but Dantes feared lest the report of his gun should attract attention. in the middle of the lid he saw engraved on a silver plate. and surmounted by a cardinal's hat. on an oval shield. He was alone--alone with these countless. The hinges yielded in their turn and fell. these faithful guardians seemed unwilling to surrender their trust. He approached the hole he had dug. and was feeding at a little distance. or was it but a dream? He would fain have gazed upon his gold. with the aid of the torch. then he re-opened them. which possessed nothing attractive save their value. lock and padlock were fastened. he cocked his gun and laid it beside him. for an instant he leaned his head in his hands as if to prevent his senses from leaving him.. and then rushed madly about the rocks of . and he saw successively the lock. cut a branch of a resinous tree. were ranged bars of unpolished gold. and rubies. and descended with this torch. There was no longer any doubt: the treasure was there--no one would have been at such pains to conceal an empty casket. these unheard-of treasures! was he awake. Dantes seized his gun. A wild goat had passed before the mouth of the cave. blazed piles of golden coin. pale. a sword. He planted his torch in the ground and resumed his labor. Edmond grasped handfuls of diamonds. placed between two padlocks. it was impossible. and yet he had not strength enough. Edmond rushed through the caverns like a man seized with frenzy. sprang through the opening. and now. in the second. and strove to lift the coffer. which was still untarnished. Faria had so often drawn them for him. like all the Italian armorial bearings. Dantes seized the handles. Edmond was seized with vertigo. sounded like hail against glass.iron. when art rendered the commonest metals precious. In an instant a space three feet long by two feet broad was cleared. and the two handles at each end. as they fell on one another. burst open the fastenings. At this moment a shadow passed rapidly before the opening. lighted it at the fire at which the smugglers had prepared their breakfast. he leaped on a rock. from whence he could behold the sea.

The Unknown. sprinkled fresh sand over the spot from which it had been taken. which yearned to return to dwell among mankind. terrifying the wild goats and scaring the sea-fowls with his wild cries and gestures. and influence which are always accorded to wealth--that first and greatest of all the forces within the grasp of man. There were a thousand ingots of gold. Dantes saw the light gradually disappear. 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. into which he deftly inserted rapidly growing plants. barren aspect when seen by the rays of the morning sun which it had done when surveyed by the fading glimmer of eve. filling the interstices with earth. then he returned. and to assume the rank. mounted by the most famous workmen. and his predecessors. he scrupulously effaced every trace of footsteps. power. This time he fell on his knees. each worth about eighty francs of our money. and he snatched a few hours' sleep. uttered a prayer intelligible to God alone. such as this man of stupendous emotions had already experienced twice or thrice in his lifetime. then carefully watering these new plantations. and strained his view to catch every peculiarity of the landscape. he lifted the stone. but it wore the same wild. again dawned. put the box together as well and securely as he could. and found himself before this mine of gold and jewels. and then carefully trod down the earth to give it everywhere a uniform appearance. each weighing from two to three pounds. A piece of biscuit and a small quantity of rum formed his supper.Monte Cristo. rushed into the grotto. and other gems. diamonds. heaping on it broken masses of rocks and rough fragments of crumbling granite. still unable to believe the evidence of his senses. Chapter 25. then he piled up twenty-five thousand crowns. It was a night of joy and terror. quitting the grotto. for which Dantes had so eagerly and impatiently waited with open eyes. then. were valuable beyond their intrinsic worth. With the first light Dantes resumed his search. many of which. This done. and bearing the effigies of Alexander VI. And he measured ten double handfuls of pearls. lying over the mouth of the cave. clasping his hands convulsively. leaving the approach to the cavern as savage-looking and untrodden as he had found it. Again he climbed the rocky height he had ascended the previous evening. such as the wild myrtle and flowering thorn. for only now did he begin to realize his felicity. filled his pockets with gems. he impatiently awaited the return of his companions. . he replaced the stone. and he saw that the complement was not half empty. and. his gun in his hand. He then set himself to work to count his fortune. and fearing to be surprised in the cavern. He soon became calmer and more happy. and. Day. left it. Descending into the grotto.

On the sixth day. an inhabitant of the Catalan village. To this question the smugglers replied that. left him by an uncle. whose sole heir he was. and particularly Jacopo. This obliged them to make all the speed they could to evade the enemy. he embarked that same evening. Dantes half feared that such valuable jewels in the hands of a poor sailor like himself might excite suspicion. Upon the whole. and so elude all further pursuit. From a distance Dantes recognized the rig and handling of The Young Amelia. fortunately. night came on. The following day Dantes presented Jacopo with an entirely new vessel. and proceeded with the captain to Leghorn. he met his companions with an assurance that. accompanying the gift by a donation of one hundred piastres. to whom he disposed of four of his smallest diamonds for five thousand francs each. and dragging himself with affected difficulty towards the landing-place. upon condition that he would go at once to Marseilles for the purpose of inquiring after an old man named Louis Dantes. expressed great regrets that Dantes had not been an equal sharer with themselves in the profits. Arrived at Leghorn. In fact. the trip had been sufficiently successful to satisfy all concerned. and enabled them to double the Cape of Corsica. Jacopo could scarcely believe his senses at receiving this magnificent present. that he might provide himself with a suitable crew and other requisites for his outfit. when they could but lament the absence of Dantes. although considerably better than when they quitted him. who did not allow him as much money as he liked to spend. while the crew. he still suffered acutely from his late accident. the smugglers returned. The superior education of Dantes gave an air of such extreme probability to this statement that it never once occurred to Jacopo to doubt its accuracy. but the cunning purchaser asked no troublesome questions concerning a bargain by which he gained a round profit of at least eighty per cent. a dealer in precious stones. but as The Young Amelia had merely come to Monte Cristo to fetch him away. Dantes took leave of the captain. although successful in landing their cargo in safety. the pursuing vessel had almost overtaken them when. whose superior skill in the management of a vessel would have availed them so materially. Edmond preserved the most admirable self-command. he repaired to the house of a Jew. which Dantes hastened to account for by saying that he had merely been a sailor from whim and a desire to spite his family. He then inquired how they had fared in their trip. . The term for which Edmond had engaged to serve on board The Young Amelia having expired. which amounted to no less a sum than fifty piastres each. 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. residing in the Allees de Meillan. and also a young woman called Mercedes. 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. however. but that on his arrival at Leghorn he had come into possession of a large fortune.

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

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

" was his comment. he begged so earnestly to be permitted to visit those on . The nasturtiums and other plants. however. "Some nabob from India. 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." "Thank you. had all disappeared from the upper part of the house. his heart beat almost to bursting. Giving the sailor a piece of money in return for his civility. Dantes instantly turned to meet him. whose receding figure he continued to gaze after in speechless astonishment. as you say. Going straight towards him. he would inevitably have fallen to the ground and been crushed beneath the many vehicles continually passing there. Each step he trod oppressed his heart with fresh emotion. "but I believe you made a mistake. a mist floated over his sight.self-possession he had acquired during his acquaintance with Faria. and had he not clung for support to one of the trees. his first and most indelible recollections were there. which his father had delighted to train before his window. but by way of rewarding your honesty I give you another double Napoleon." said the honest fellow. he wiped the perspiration from his brows. my good friend. Leaning against the tree. meanwhile. so pregnant with fond and filial remembrances." So extreme was the surprise of the sailor. but not a word or look implied that he had the slightest idea of ever having seen before the person with whom he was then conversing. his knees tottered under him. went on his way. was one of the crew belonging to the Pharaon. The first person to attract the attention of Dantes. you intended to give me a two-franc piece. he propounded a variety of questions on different subjects. and see. from whence a full view of the Allees de Meillan was obtained. you gave me a double Napoleon. Dantes proceeded onwards. he was informed that there existed no obstacle to his immediate debarkation. "I beg your pardon. that he was unable even to thank Edmond. not a tree. Recovering himself. he gazed thoughtfully for a time at the upper stories of the shabby little house. that he passed but seemed filled with dear and cherished memories. Then he advanced to the door. And thus he proceeded onwards till he arrived at the end of the Rue de Noailles. I see that I have made a trifling mistake. and stopped not again till he found himself at the door of the house in which his father had lived. sir. as he landed on the Canebiere. and as this gave him a standing which a French passport would not have afforded. Dantes coolly presented an English passport he had obtained from Leghorn. carefully watching the man's countenance as he did so. Dantes. and asked whether there were any rooms to be let. and be able to ask your messmates to join you. not a street. that you may drink to my health. but ere he had gone many steps he heard the man loudly calling him to stop. in almost breathless haste. Though answered in the negative. At this spot.

As Edmond passed the door on the fourth floor. but they felt the sacredness of his grief. it would unhesitatingly have been given. 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. When he withdrew from the scene of his painful recollections. and assuring him that their poor dwelling would ever be open to him. that. Nothing in the two small chambers forming the apartments remained as it had been in the time of the elder Dantes. The young couple gazed with astonishment at the sight of their visitor's emotion. and seeing them.. and kindly refrained from questioning him as to its cause. while. they left him to indulge his sorrow alone. in spite of his efforts to prevent it. and. they both accompanied him downstairs. The bed belonging to the present occupants was placed as the former owner of the chamber had been accustomed to have his. under the name of Lord Wilmore (the name and title inscribed on his passport). and afterwards observed to enter a poor . in despite of the oft-repeated assurance of the concierge that they were occupied. etc. Dantes next proceeded thither. and set all conjecture at defiance. but had its owner asked half a million.the fifth floor. at least ten thousand more than it was worth. upon condition of their giving instant possession of the two small chambers they at present inhabited. But what raised public astonishment to a climax. now become the property of Dantes. with instinctive delicacy. none of which was anywhere near the truth. that the new landlord gave them their choice of any of the rooms in the house. purchased the small dwelling for the sum of twenty-five thousand francs. Dantes sighed heavily. The very same day the occupants of the apartments on the fifth floor of the house. the eyes of Edmond were suffused in tears as he reflected that on that spot the old man had breathed his last. and. that the person in question had got into difficulties. the four walls alone remained as he had left them. Having obtained the address of the person to whom the house in the Allees de Meillan belonged. and wondered to see the large tears silently chasing each other down his otherwise stern and immovable features. he paused to inquire whether Caderousse the tailor still dwelt there. Dantes succeeded in inducing the man to go up to the tenants. vainly calling for his son. but he received. This strange event aroused great wonder and curiosity in the neighborhood of the Allees de Meillan. while the articles of antiquated furniture with which the rooms had been filled in Edmond's time had all disappeared. for reply. without the least augmentation of rent. were duly informed by the notary who had arranged the necessary transfer of deeds. and a multitude of theories were afloat. The tenants of the humble lodging were a young couple who had been scarcely married a week. reiterating their hope that he would come again whenever he pleased. the very paper was different. and ask permission for a gentleman to be allowed to look at them. and at the present time kept a small inn on the route from Bellegarde to Beaucaire.

while. consisting of a small plot of ground. were scattered a few miserable stalks of wheat. and backed upon the Rhone.--a chambermaid named Trinette. of which we have given a brief but faithful . A few dingy olives and stunted fig-trees struggled hard for existence. creaking and flapping in the wind. 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. leave Marseilles by the Porte d'Aix. consisting of an entirely new fishing-boat. and eschalots. Chapter 26. which more resembled a dusty lake than solid ground. upon quitting the hut. In the surrounding plain. but they had seen him. lone and solitary. no doubt. with two seines and a tender.--a small roadside inn. The Pont du Gard Inn. It also boasted of what in Languedoc is styled a garden. whose utter ruin it was fast accomplishing. not a hundred steps from the inn. it was situated between the Rhone from which it had its source and the post-road it had depleted. Each stalk served as a perch for a grasshopper. This modern place of entertainment stood on the left-hand side of the post road. about midway between the town of Beaucaire and the village of Bellegarde. and then springing lightly on horseback. And. the effect. tomatoes. which regaled the passers by through this Egyptian scene with its strident. and displayed its flexible stem and fan-shaped summit dried and cracked by the fierce heat of the sub-tropical sun.fisherman's hut. like a forgotten sentinel. monotonous note. on the side opposite to the main entrance reserved for the reception of guests. from the front of which hung. with two servants. Between these sickly shrubs grew a scanty supply of garlic. 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. a tall pine raised its melancholy head in one of the corners of this unattractive spot. and a hostler called Pecaud.--a little nearer to the former than to the latter. For about seven or eight years the little tavern had been kept by a man and his wife. but their withered dusty foliage abundantly proved how unequal was the conflict. merely give some orders to a sailor. 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. Such of my readers as have made a pedestrian excursion to the south of France may perchance have noticed. as though to add to the daily misery which this prosperous canal inflicted on the unfortunate inn-keeper. This small staff was quite equal to all the requirements. for a canal between Beaucaire and Aiguemortes had revolutionized transportation by substituting boats for the cart and the stagecoach.

was thick and curly. or stretched languid and feeble on her bed. on the contrary. so called. sparkling. her husband had bestowed on her the name of La Carconte in place of her sweet and euphonious name of Madeleine. which he wore under his chin. like his beard. on the lookout for guests who seldom came. in all probability. he was a man of sober habits and moderate desires. hooked nose. bearing equal resemblance to the style adopted both by . exposed to the meridional rays of a burning sun. as it saved him the necessity of listening to the endless plaints and murmurs of his helpmate. It is God's pleasure that things should be so. which. she had shared in the beauty for which its women are proverbial. This man was our old acquaintance. a perfect specimen of the natives of those southern latitudes. strong. The inn-keeper himself was a man of from forty to fifty-five years of age. He dressed in the picturesque costume worn upon grand occasions by the inhabitants of the south of France. and in spite of his age but slightly interspersed with a few silvery threads. His naturally dark complexion had assumed a still further shade of brown from the habit the unfortunate man had acquired of stationing himself from morning till eve at the threshold of his door. not a festivity took place without himself and wife being among the spectators. and the daily infliction of his peevish partner's murmurs and lamentations. Gaspard Caderousse. was pale. let it not be supposed that amid this affected resignation to the will of Providence. and deep-set eyes. and teeth white as those of a carnivorous animal. La Carconte. Born in the neighborhood of Arles. and addicted to display. and sickly-looking. Still. his hair. with no other protection for his head than a red handkerchief twisted around it. vain. shivering in her chair. meagre. while her husband kept his daily watch at the door--a duty he performed with so much the greater willingness. after the manner of the Spanish muleteers. 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. his rude gutteral language would not have enabled him to pronounce. day after day. he had dark. tall. and bony. whose maiden name had been Madeleine Radelle.description. During the days of his prosperity. 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. who never saw him without breaking out into bitter invectives against fate. yet there he stood. She remained nearly always in her second-floor chamber. but fond of external show. to all of which her husband would calmly return an unvarying reply. Like other dwellers in the south. the unfortunate inn-keeper did not writhe under the double misery of seeing the hateful canal carry off his customers and his profits. situated between Salon and Lambesc. in these philosophic words:-"Hush. His wife." The sobriquet of La Carconte had been bestowed on Madeleine Radelle from the fact that she had been born in a village.

which led away to the north and south. however. then. At the moment Caderousse quitted his sentry-like watch before the door. had Caderousse but retained his post a few minutes longer. he would easily have perceived that it consisted of a man and horse. as the moving object drew nearer. and Gaspard Caderousse. Availing himself of a handle that projected from a half-fallen door. between whom the kindest and most amiable understanding appeared to exist. as an invitation to any chance traveller who might be passing. to set the entrance door wide open. a huge black dog came rushing to meet the daring assailant of his ordinarily tranquil abode. all disappeared. his eyes glancing listlessly from a piece of closely shaven grass--on which some fowls were industriously. dismounting. when he was aroused by the shrill voice of his wife. struck thrice with the end of his iron-shod stick. Having arrived before the Pont du Gard. and. endeavoring to turn up some grain or insect suited to their palate--to the deserted road. However that might have been. would choose to expose himself in such a formidable Sahara. At this unusual sound. was. velvet vests. and silver buckles for the shoes. advancing to the door. though fruitlessly. and wearing a three-cornered hat. parti-colored scarfs. There it lay stretching out into one interminable line of dust and sand. elegantly worked stockings. necklaces. had given up any further participation in the pomps and vanities. at his place of observation before the door. that no one in his senses could have imagined that any traveller. from his pocket. he tied the animal safely and having drawn a red cotton handkerchief. the road on which he so eagerly strained his sight was void and lonely as a desert at mid-day. watch-chains. The horse was of Hungarian breed. first taking care. dressed in black. a mode of attire borrowed equally from Greece and Arabia. at liberty to regulate his hours for journeying. the horse stopped. embroidered bodices. striped gaiters. more for the shelter than the profit it afforded. Nevertheless. he might have caught a dim outline of something approaching from the direction of Bellegarde. but whether for his own pleasure or that of his rider would have been difficult to say. while La Carconte displayed the charming fashion prevalent among the women of Arles. both for himself and wife. snarling and displaying his sharp white teeth with a determined . wiped away the perspiration that streamed from his brow. unable to appear abroad in his pristine splendor. and grumbling to himself as he went. led his steed by the bridle in search of some place to which he could secure him. and ambled along at an easy pace.the Catalans and Andalusians. with its sides bordered by tall. 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. spite of the ardent rays of a noonday sun. by degrees. Caderousse. But. as usual. he mounted to her chamber. then. the priest. His rider was a priest. altogether presenting so uninviting an appearance. the pair came on with a fair degree of rapidity. meagre trees.

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

know anything of a young sailor named Dantes?" "Dantes? Did I know poor dear Edmond? Why. in the year 1814 or 1815." "So much the better for you. skinny neck resting on his lap. for my poor wife." "You are wrong to speak thus. and the wicked punished. with a bitter expression of countenance." continued he significantly. be able to prove to you how completely you are in error. then?" said the priest. but in this world a man does not thrive the better for being honest." "Such words as those belong to your profession." The abbe fixed on him a searching. as one pleases. "for I am firmly persuaded that. while Margotin." said the abbe. poor thing!" "You are married. sir. had crept up to him." answered Caderousse. who is the only person in the house besides myself. and unable to render me the least assistance. "one is free to believe them or not. with a hand on his breast and shaking his head. is laid up with illness. penetrating glance. in my own person. "Are you quite alone?" inquired the guest." continued the inn-keeper." said the abbe. I must be satisfied that you are the person I am in search of. "In the first place." added he. honest--I can certainly say that much for myself. whose animosity seemed appeased by the unusual command of the traveller for refreshments. while his dim eye was fixed earnestly on the traveller's face. quite alone. fairly sustaining the scrutiny of the abbe's gaze. "that is more than every one can say nowadays." "What mean you?" inquired Caderousse with a look of surprise. with a show of interest. Edmond Dantes and myself . as Caderousse placed before him the bottle of wine and a glass. "it is easy to perceive I am not a rich man.stool. and. "Ah. but. sooner or later." "What proofs do you require?" "Did you. "I can boast with truth of being an honest man. practically so. and had established himself very comfortably between his knees." replied the man--"or. at least. "and you do well to repeat them. glancing round as he spoke at the scanty furnishings of the apartment. leaning his elbow on a table. "Yes. if what you assert be true. the good will be rewarded. "Quite. his long. "and perhaps I may." said Caderousse with a sigh.

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

set in a ring of admirable workmanship. I have it with me. Instead of employing this diamond in attempting to bribe his jailers." "Bless me!" exclaimed Caderousse. the abbe opened it. with eager."But the strangest part of the story is." "And for that reason. the poor fellow told you the truth. but you shall judge for yourself. swore by his crucified Redeemer." murmured Caderousse. sir. "that it was a stone of immense value?" "Why." And here the look of the abbe. Calmly drawing forth from his pocket a small box covered with black shagreen. as he closed the box. but had been released from prison during the second restoration. 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. without the setting. "fifty thousand francs! Surely the diamond was as large as a nut to be worth all that. seemed to rest with ill-concealed satisfaction on the gloomy depression which was rapidly spreading over the countenance of Caderousse. I suppose." "And so he was." asked Caderousse. "you say. he besought me to try and clear up a mystery he had never been able to penetrate. "that Dantes. glowing looks. that he was utterly ignorant of the cause of his detention." resumed the abbe. even in his dying moments. "who had been his companion in misfortune. "How should he have been otherwise? Ah. this jewel he bestowed on Dantes upon himself quitting the prison. and displayed to the dazzled eyes of Caderousse the sparkling jewel it contained." "No." "Then. "A rich Englishman. Dantes carefully preserved it. that in the event of his getting out of prison he might have wherewithal to live." continued the abbe. almost breathless with eager admiration. everything is relative. while its brilliant . and returned it to his pocket. becoming more and more fixed. was possessed of a diamond of immense value. for the sale of such a diamond would have quite sufficed to make his fortune. and to clear his memory should any foul spot or stain have fallen on it. It was estimated at fifty thousand francs." replied the abbe. as though hoping to discover the location of the treasure. who might only have taken it and then betrayed him to the governor." replied the abbe. "To one in Edmond's position the diamond certainly was of great value. "And that diamond." cried Caderousse." The sharp gaze of Caderousse was instantly directed towards the priest's garments. "it was not of such a size as that. is worth fifty thousand francs?" "It is. which is also valuable." answered the abbe.

said." urged Caderousse. although my rival." "Mercedes. 'The third of my friends. "But how comes the diamond in your possession. 'I once possessed four dear and faithful friends. as he placed his empty glass on the table. and give an equal portion to these good friends.'" The inn-keeper shivered. you can do so afterwards.'" continued the abbe. "Mercedes it was. and after pouring some into a glass. when the latter. 'You will go to Marseilles. was much attached to me. 'and I feel convinced they have all unfeignedly grieved over my loss. in spite of being my rival. and slowly swallowing its contents. "Allow me to finish first." . with a stifled sigh. I repeat his words just as he uttered them.' said Dantes. resuming his usual placidity of manner. "I have forgotten what he called her. said. that of my betrothed was'--Stay.--for you understand. entertained a very sincere affection for me.'" A fiendish smile played over the features of Caderousse. "you only mentioned four persons. the only persons who have loved me upon earth." said the abbe. who was about to break in upon the abbe's speech.'" "But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse. stay. Do you understand?" "Perfectly. "'is called Danglars." continued the abbe. "True." said Caderousse eagerly. "Bring me a carafe of water. merely his testamentary executor. waving his hand. "'Another of the number. sir? Did Edmond make you his heir?" "No. Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding." "Go on.--his name was Fernand. and the third. you will divide the money into five equal parts. and then if you have any observations to make." "'You will sell this diamond." said the abbe. the abbe. The name of one of the four friends is Caderousse.hues seemed still to dance before the eyes of the fascinated inn-keeper." "To be sure. besides the maiden to whom I was betrothed' he said. without seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse.--"Where did we leave off?" "The name of Edmond's betrothed was Mercedes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, when Dantes was arrested, Monsieur Morrel hastened to obtain the particulars, and they were very sad. The old man returned alone to his home, folded up his wedding suit with tears in his eyes, and paced up and down his chamber the whole day, and would not go to bed at all, for I was underneath him and heard him walking the whole night; and for myself, I assure you I could not sleep either, for the grief of the poor father gave me great uneasiness, and every step he took went to my heart as really as if his foot had pressed against my breast. The next day Mercedes came to implore the protection of M. de Villefort; she did not obtain it, however, and went to visit the old man; when she saw him so miserable and heart-broken, having passed a sleepless night, and not touched food since the previous day, she wished him to go with her that she might take care of him; but the old man would not consent. 'No,' was the old man's reply, 'I will not leave this house, for my poor dear boy loves me better than anything in the world; and if he gets out of prison he will come and see me the first thing, and what would he think if I did not wait here for him?' I heard all this from the window, for I was anxious that Mercedes should persuade the old man to accompany her, for his footsteps over my head night and day did not leave me a moment's repose." "But did you not go up-stairs and try to console the poor old man?" asked the abbe. "Ah, sir," replied Caderousse, "we cannot console those who will not be consoled, and he was one of these; besides, I know not why, but he seemed to dislike seeing me. One night, however, I heard his sobs, and I could not resist my desire to go up to him, but when I reached his door he was no longer weeping but praying. I cannot now repeat to you, sir, all the eloquent words and imploring language he made use of; it was more than piety, it was more than grief, and I, who am no canter, and hate the Jesuits, said then to myself, 'It is really well, and I am very glad that I have not any children; for if I were a father and felt such excessive grief as the old man does, and did not find in my memory or heart all he is now saying, I should throw myself into the sea at once, for I could not bear it.'" "Poor father!" murmured the priest. "From day to day he lived on alone, and more and more solitary. M. Morrel and Mercedes came to see him, but his door was closed; and, although I was certain he was at home, he would not make any answer. One day, when, contrary to his custom, he had admitted Mercedes, and the poor girl, in spite of her own grief and despair, endeavored to console him, he said to her,--'Be assured, my dear daughter, he is dead; and instead of expecting him, it is he who is awaiting us; I am quite happy, for I am the oldest, and of course shall see him first.' However well disposed a person may be, why you see we leave off after a time seeing persons who are in sorrow, they make one melancholy; and so at last old Dantes was left all to himself, and I only saw from time to time

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

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

the Bonapartist committee at Paris, and if they find this letter upon him, those who have supported him will pass for his accomplices.' I confess I had my fears, in the state in which politics then were, and I held my tongue. It was cowardly, I confess, but it was not criminal." "I understand--you allowed matters to take their course, that was all." "Yes, sir," answered Caderousse; "and remorse preys on me night and day. I often ask pardon of God, I swear to you, because this action, the only one with which I have seriously to reproach myself in all my life, is no doubt the cause of my abject condition. I am expiating a moment of selfishness, and so I always say to La Carconte, when she complains, 'Hold your tongue, woman; it is the will of God.'" And Caderousse bowed his head with every sign of real repentance. "Well, sir," said the abbe, "you have spoken unreservedly; and thus to accuse yourself is to deserve pardon." "Unfortunately, Edmond is dead, and has not pardoned me." "He did not know," said the abbe. "But he knows it all now," interrupted Caderousse; "they say the dead know everything." There was a brief silence; the abbe rose and paced up and down pensively, and then resumed his seat. "You have two or three times mentioned a M. Morrel," he said; "who was he?" "The owner of the Pharaon and patron of Dantes." "And what part did he play in this sad drama?" inquired the abbe. "The part of an honest man, full of courage and real regard. Twenty times he interceded for Edmond. When the emperor returned, he wrote, implored, threatened, and so energetically, that on the second restoration he was persecuted as a Bonapartist. Ten times, as I told you, he came to see Dantes' father, and offered to receive him in his own house; and the night or two before his death, as I have already said, he left his purse on the mantelpiece, with which they paid the old man's debts, and buried him decently; and so Edmond's father died, as he had lived, without doing harm to any one. I have the purse still by me--a large one, made of red silk." "And," asked the abbe, "is M. Morrel still alive?" "Yes," replied Caderousse. "In that case," replied the abbe, "he should be rich, happy." Caderousse smiled bitterly. "Yes, happy as myself," said he.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

there be any grounds for apprehension, as this is a greater amount than mine, you will most probably find him better informed than myself." The Englishman seemed to appreciate this extreme delicacy, made his bow and went away, proceeding with a characteristic British stride towards the street mentioned. M. de Boville was in his private room, and the Englishman, on perceiving him, made a gesture of surprise, which seemed to indicate that it was not the first time he had been in his presence. As to M. de Boville, he was in such a state of despair, that it was evident all the faculties of his mind, absorbed in the thought which occupied him at the moment, did not allow either his memory or his imagination to stray to the past. The Englishman, with the coolness of his nation, addressed him in terms nearly similar to those with which he had accosted the mayor of Marseilles. "Oh, sir," exclaimed M. de Boville, "your fears are unfortunately but too well founded, and you see before you a man in despair. I had two hundred thousand francs placed in the hands of Morrel & Son; these two hundred thousand francs were the dowry of my daughter, who was to be married in a fortnight, and these two hundred thousand francs were payable, half on the 15th of this month, and the other half on the 15th of next month. I had informed M. Morrel of my desire to have these payments punctually, and he has been here within the last half-hour to tell me that if his ship, the Pharaon, did not come into port on the 15th, he would be wholly unable to make this payment." "But," said the Englishman, "this looks very much like a suspension of payment." "It looks more like bankruptcy!" exclaimed M. de Boville despairingly. The Englishman appeared to reflect a moment, and then said,--"From which it would appear, sir, that this credit inspires you with considerable apprehension?" "To tell you the truth, I consider it lost." "Well, then, I will buy it of you!" "You?" "Yes, I!" "But at a tremendous discount, of course?" "No, for two hundred thousand francs. Our house," added the Englishman with a laugh, "does not do things in that way." "And you will pay"-"Ready money." And the Englishman drew from his pocket a bundle of

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

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

sewed up the corpse, and awaited the moment of interment." "It was a bold step, and one that showed some courage," remarked the Englishman. "As I have already told you, sir, he was a very dangerous man; and, fortunately, by his own act disembarrassed the government of the fears it had on his account." "How was that?" "How? Do you not comprehend?" "No." "The Chateau d'If has no cemetery, and they simply throw the dead into the sea, after fastening a thirty-six pound cannon-ball to their feet." "Well," observed the Englishman as if he were slow of comprehension. "Well, they fastened a thirty-six pound ball to his feet, and threw him into the sea." "Really!" exclaimed the Englishman. "Yes, sir," continued the inspector of prisons. "You may imagine the amazement of the fugitive when he found himself flung headlong over the rocks! I should like to have seen his face at that moment." "That would have been difficult." "No matter," replied De Boville, in supreme good-humor at the certainty of recovering his two hundred thousand francs,--"no matter, I can fancy it." And he shouted with laughter. "So can I," said the Englishman, and he laughed too; but he laughed as the English do, "at the end of his teeth." "And so," continued the Englishman who first gained his composure, "he was drowned?" "Unquestionably." "So that the governor got rid of the dangerous and the crazy prisoner at the same time?" "Precisely." "But some official document was drawn up as to this affair, I suppose?" inquired the Englishman.

"Yes, yes, the mortuary deposition. You understand, Dantes' relations, if he had any, might have some interest in knowing if he were dead or alive." "So that now, if there were anything to inherit from him, they may do so with easy conscience. He is dead, and no mistake about it." "Oh, yes; and they may have the fact attested whenever they please." "So be it," said the Englishman. "But to return to these registers." "True, this story has diverted our attention from them. Excuse me." "Excuse you for what? For the story? By no means; it really seems to me very curious." "Yes, indeed. So, sir, you wish to see all relating to the poor abbe, who really was gentleness itself." "Yes, you will much oblige me." "Go into my study here, and I will show it to you." And they both entered M. de Boville's study. Everything was here arranged in perfect order; each register had its number, each file of papers its place. The inspector begged the Englishman to seat himself in an arm-chair, and placed before him the register and documents relative to the Chateau d'If, giving him all the time he desired for the examination, while De Boville seated himself in a corner, and began to read his newspaper. The Englishman easily found the entries relative to the Abbe Faria; but it seemed that the history which the inspector had related interested him greatly, for after having perused the first documents he turned over the leaves until he reached the deposition respecting Edmond Dantes. There he found everything arranged in due order,--the accusation, examination, Morrel's petition, M. de Villefort's marginal notes. He folded up the accusation quietly, and put it as quietly in his pocket; read the examination, and saw that the name of Noirtier was not mentioned in it; perused, too, the application dated 10th April, 1815, in which Morrel, by the deputy procureur's advice, exaggerated with the best intentions (for Napoleon was then on the throne) the services Dantes had rendered to the imperial cause--services which Villefort's certificates rendered indispensable. Then he saw through the whole thing. This petition to Napoleon, kept back by Villefort, had become, under the second restoration, a terrible weapon against him in the hands of the king's attorney. He was no longer astonished when he searched on to find in the register this note, placed in a bracket against his name:-Edmond Dantes. An inveterate Bonapartist; took an active part in the return from the

Island of Elba. To be kept in strict solitary confinement, and to be closely watched and guarded. Beneath these lines was written in another hand: "See note above--nothing can be done." He compared the writing in the bracket with the writing of the certificate placed beneath Morrel's petition, and discovered that the note in the bracket was the same writing as the certificate--that is to say, was in Villefort's handwriting. As to the note which accompanied this, the Englishman understood that it might have been added by some inspector who had taken a momentary interest in Dantes' situation, but who had, from the remarks we have quoted, found it impossible to give any effect to the interest he had felt. As we have said, the inspector, from discretion, and that he might not disturb the Abbe Faria's pupil in his researches, had seated himself in a corner, and was reading Le Drapeau Blanc. He did not see the Englishman fold up and place in his pocket the accusation written by Danglars under the arbor of La Reserve, and which had the postmark, "Marseilles, 27th Feb., delivery 6 o'clock, P.M." But it must be said that if he had seen it, he attached so little importance to this scrap of paper, and so much importance to his two hundred thousand francs, that he would not have opposed whatever the Englishman might do, however irregular it might be. "Thanks," said the latter, closing the register with a slam, "I have all I want; now it is for me to perform my promise. Give me a simple assignment of your debt; acknowledge therein the receipt of the cash, and I will hand you over the money." He rose, gave his seat to M. de Boville, who took it without ceremony, and quickly drew up the required assignment, while the Englishman counted out the bank-notes on the other side of the desk.

Chapter 29. The House of Morrel & Son. Any one who had quitted Marseilles a few years previously, well acquainted with the interior of Morrel's warehouse, and had returned at this date, would have found a great change. Instead of that air of life, of comfort, and of happiness that permeates a flourishing and prosperous business establishment--instead of merry faces at the windows, busy clerks hurrying to and fro in the long corridors--instead of the court filled with bales of goods, re-echoing with the cries and the jokes of porters, one would have immediately perceived all aspect of sadness and gloom. Out of all the numerous clerks that used to fill the deserted corridor and the empty office, but two remained. One was a young man of three or four and twenty, who was in love with M. Morrel's daughter, and had remained with him in spite of the efforts of his friends to induce

him to withdraw; the other was an old one-eyed cashier, called "Cocles," or "Cock-eye," a nickname given him by the young men who used to throng this vast now almost deserted bee-hive, and which had so completely replaced his real name that he would not, in all probability, have replied to any one who addressed him by it. Cocles remained in M. Morrel's service, and a most singular change had taken place in his position; he had at the same time risen to the rank of cashier, and sunk to the rank of a servant. He was, however, the same Cocles, good, patient, devoted, but inflexible on the subject of arithmetic, the only point on which he would have stood firm against the world, even against M. Morrel; and strong in the multiplication-table, which he had at his fingers' ends, no matter what scheme or what trap was laid to catch him. In the midst of the disasters that befell the house, Cocles was the only one unmoved. But this did not arise from a want of affection; on the contrary, from a firm conviction. Like the rats that one by one forsake the doomed ship even before the vessel weighs anchor, so all the numerous clerks had by degrees deserted the office and the warehouse. Cocles had seen them go without thinking of inquiring the cause of their departure. Everything was as we have said, a question of arithmetic to Cocles, and during twenty years he had always seen all payments made with such exactitude, that it seemed as impossible to him that the house should stop payment, as it would to a miller that the river that had so long turned his mill should cease to flow. Nothing had as yet occurred to shake Cocles' belief; the last month's payment had been made with the most scrupulous exactitude; Cocles had detected an overbalance of fourteen sous in his cash, and the same evening he had brought them to M. Morrel, who, with a melancholy smile, threw them into an almost empty drawer, saying:-"Thanks, Cocles; you are the pearl of cashiers." Cocles went away perfectly happy, for this eulogium of M. Morrel, himself the pearl of the honest men of Marseilles, flattered him more than a present of fifty crowns. But since the end of the month M. Morrel had passed many an anxious hour. In order to meet the payments then due; he had collected all his resources, and, fearing lest the report of his distress should get bruited abroad at Marseilles when he was known to be reduced to such an extremity, he went to the Beaucaire fair to sell his wife's and daughter's jewels and a portion of his plate. By this means the end of the month was passed, but his resources were now exhausted. Credit, owing to the reports afloat, was no longer to be had; and to meet the one hundred thousand francs due on the 10th of the present month, and the one hundred thousand francs due on the 15th of the next month to M. de Boville, M. Morrel had, in reality, no hope but the return of the Pharaon, of whose departure he had learnt from a vessel which had weighed anchor at the same time, and which had already arrived in harbor. But this vessel which, like the Pharaon, came from Calcutta,

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

as he thought that. to whom they are due. taking a quantity of papers from his pocket. "Yes. knowing your strict punctuality. that you owe this sum to him?" "Yes. he would be unable to honor his own signature." "Just so. and. francs. sir. and charged me as they became due to present them. "conceal from you. "So then. The house of Thomson & French had 300. sir. that while your probity and exactitude up to this moment are universally acknowledged. "Two hundred and eighty-seven thousand five hundred francs. "Sir. after a moment's silence. the inspector of prisons. at least." replied the Englishman." said Morrel." repeated he. and for a considerable sum."The house of Thomson & French." said the Englishman. "up to this time--and it is now more than four-and-twenty years since I received the direction of this house from . I have for the end of the month these bills which have been assigned to us by the house of Pascal. so my cashier tells me.500 francs. whose face was suffused. have collected all the bills bearing your signature. and the house of Wild & Turner of Marseilles. they are all signed by you. which was covered with perspiration.000 francs to pay this month in France. and passed his hand over his forehead. and to employ the money otherwise. yet the report is current in Marseilles that you are not able to meet your liabilities." Morrel sighed deeply. "you hold bills of mine?" "Yes. "Here is. "Is this all?" "No. for the first time in his life. he placed the money in my hands at four and a half per cent nearly five years ago. amounting to nearly 55." At this almost brutal speech Morrel turned deathly pale." said he." said Morrel.000. in all. and assigned to our house by the holders. half the 15th of next." "He has told you rightly. and now here are 32. "I will not. You acknowledge. de Boville. 287.500 francs payable shortly. of course.000 francs to our house by M." continued he." "I recognize them. "an assignment of 200.000 or 400." "When are you to pay?" "Half the 15th of this month." "What is the amount?" asked Morrel with a voice he strove to render firm." It is impossible to describe what Morrel suffered during this enumeration.

as I hope." said he.--completely ruined!" "As I was on my way here." "But one." said the other. but she is not mine. I must habituate myself to shame. in hopes of being the first to announce good news to me.my father. but if the Pharaon should be lost. sir. a young man." returned Morrel." "It is true." "I know it. a vessel was coming into port. shall you pay these with the same punctuality?" Morrel shuddered. I shall pay. sir? I dread almost as much to . if. "To questions frankly put." "Have you no friends who could assist you?" Morrel smiled mournfully." "Perhaps she has spoken to the Pharaon. who still adheres to my fallen fortunes. and this last resource be gone"--the poor man's eyes filled with tears. "then you have but one hope. and brings you some tidings of her?" "Shall I tell you plainly one thing. "it is a cruel thing to be forced to say." "The last?" "The last. La Gironde. "if this last resource fail you?" "Well. who had himself conducted it for five and thirty years--never has anything bearing the signature of Morrel & Son been dishonored. passes a part of his time in a belvidere at the top of the house. for its arrival will again procure me the credit which the numerous accidents. she is a Bordeaux vessel." murmured the Englishman. "But as a man of honor should answer another." "I know that. she comes from India also. I fear I shall be forced to suspend payment. "one has no friends." replied the Englishman. sir. "a straightforward answer should be given." "And it is not yours?" "No. who spoke with more assurance than he had hitherto shown. Yes. "In business. have deprived me. only correspondents. my vessel arrives safely. but. he has informed me of the arrival of this ship. and looked at the man. tell me fairly. already used to misfortune. "Well." "So that if this fail"-"I am ruined. of which I have been the victim." said he.

"Thanks. Morrel trembling in every limb. and the creaking of hinges was audible." Scarcely had he uttered those words than Madame Morrel entered weeping bitterly. stopped at the door. The stranger fancied he heard footsteps on the stairs. Morrel rose and advanced to the door. Emmanuel followed her. "at least thou strikest but me alone. my God. but his voice failed him." Then in a low voice Morrel added. "Oh. she ought to have been here a month ago. but it seemed that Morrel expected something--something had occasioned the noise. He would have spoken." A tear moistened the eye of the phlegmatic Englishman. "saved by the crew of the vessel that has just entered the harbor." said the girl. and that the footsteps. At the sight of these men the Englishman started and advanced a step. Morrel rose tremblingly. Uncertainty is still hope." murmured Morrel. The noise had ceased. and in the antechamber were visible the rough faces of seven or eight half-naked sailors. The two men remained opposite one another. "Cocles and Julie. appeared. but his strength failed him and he sank into a chair. then restrained himself. father!" murmured she. The Pharaon left Calcutta the 5th February. but she made an affirmative sign with her head as she lay on her father's breast. The young girl did not speak. "And the crew?" asked Morrel. "There are only two persons who have the key to that door. "Oh. "Come in. "for I presume you are all at the door. the stranger gazing at him with an air of profound pity. "Saved. "courage!" "The Pharaon has gone down. . then?" said Morrel in a hoarse voice. "forgive your child for being the bearer of evil tidings.receive any tidings of my vessel as to remain in doubt. and something must follow. father!" said she." Morrel again changed color. and the young girl. father. her eyes bathed with tears. come in. supporting himself by the arm of the chair." At this instant the second door opened. oh!" cried Morrel. A key was inserted in the lock of the first door.--"This delay is not natural. and half-stifled sobs. "What is the meaning of that noise?" "Oh. turning pale." Morrel raised his two hands to heaven with an expression of resignation and sublime gratitude." "What is that?" said the Englishman. Julie threw herself into his arms." said he." said Morrel. "what is it?" A loud noise was heard on the stairs of people moving hastily. which were those of several persons. clasping her hands.

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

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

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

" said the owner to his wife and daughter." continued the stranger. I hope so. except the few words we have mentioned. "that a fresh and unmerited misfortune his overwhelmed you. at least. M. we shall meet again in a happier time." replied the stranger. Morrel?" asked Penelon." "Well." "Yes. "and I will pay you--or I shall be dead." returned Morrel. and consequently my life. renew these bills up to the 5th of September. To-day is the 5th of June." "How long a delay do you wish for?"--Morrel reflected. at least. as she left the apartment. we shall see each other again. Julie gave the stranger a supplicating glance. who went first. sir!" cried Morrel. I pray you. Now go. sir. almost overpowered. I wish to speak with this gentleman. "Now. "Well." "I see. "I am one of your largest creditors. "But. Emmanuel." "Oh. and retired." said he. "you have heard all. The two women looked at this person whose presence they had entirely forgotten. the seamen followed him and Emmanuel brought up the rear. sinking into a chair. "leave me." returned the Englishman. and on the 5th of September at eleven o'clock (the hand of the clock pointed to eleven)."Enough." These last words were uttered in so low a tone that the . and I have nothing further to tell you. "I will give you three." "I shall expect you. and this only increases my desire to serve you. enough!" cried Morrel. "Yes. are the first that will fall due. but. "will the house of Thomson & French consent?" "Oh. go with them." "Your bills. to which he replied by a smile that an indifferent spectator would have been surprised to see on his stern features. and see that my orders are executed. "leave me. I shall come to receive the money. I take everything on myself." And he glanced towards the clerk of Thomson & French." asked Morrel." said Morrel. in which he had taken no part." "At least. who had remained motionless in the corner during this scene. The two men were left alone." "Do you wish for time to pay?" "A delay would save my honor." He made a sign to Cocles. "Two months. "Let me see.

When he thought the matter over. and have those 300. conducted him to the staircase. In the court he found Penelon. "Come with me. as he had said. The Englishman received his thanks with the phlegm peculiar to his nation. who. and a ray of hope. and some even came to a contrary decision. and continued to descend. overwhelming him with grateful blessings. Morrel had not only engagements with the house of Thomson & French. the old ones destroyed. The extension provided for by the agent of Thomson & French. if not of tranquillity. and leaned against the baluster. and. Unfortunately. and not friends. however. and I have great hopes that heaven will reward you by giving you Emmanuel for a husband. with a rouleau of a hundred francs in either hand. sir"--said she. blushed like a rose. seemed unable to make up his mind to retain them. "Do you promise?" "I swear to you I will. The stranger waved his hand. The bills were renewed." Unfortunately. The same day he told his wife. "Oh. sweet girl you are at present. "I wish to speak to you. at the moment when Morrel expected it least. Adieu." "Yes. whether through envy or stupidity." said the stranger." "It is well. The bills signed by Morrel were presented at his office with scrupulous . and get only six or eight per cent of our money back again. and his daughter all that had occurred. The stranger met Julie on the stairs." Julie uttered a faint cry. however strange it may appear. mademoiselle. 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 could only attribute it to some such selfish argument as this:--"We had better help a man who owes us nearly 300. she pretended to be descending." Chapter 30. Continue to be the good. Emmanuel. sir. The Fifth of September. returned to the family. and the poor ship-owner found himself with three months before him to collect his resources. "Mademoiselle. "one day you will receive a letter signed 'Sinbad the Sailor. in business he had correspondents. he could by no means account for this generous conduct on the part of Thomson & French towards him. and Morrel." said the Englishman. clasping her hands.000 francs.000 francs at the end of three months than hasten his ruin.' Do exactly what the letter bids you." returned Julie. my friend. who had shown themselves so considerate towards him.stranger could not hear them. but in reality she was waiting for him. all Morrel's correspondents did not take this view.

000 francs of M. Penelon had. he cancelled all his obligations with his usual punctuality. from Penelon's recital. for they also had disappeared. Perhaps he had come to tell Captain Gaumard of his good luck. "may your new master love you as I loved you. had returned from Palma. and be more fortunate than I have been!" . and the general opinion was that the complete ruin of the unfortunate shipowner had been postponed only until the end of the month. if we may so express ourselves. he found himself in a condition to meet his engagements when the end of July came. of the captain's brave conduct during the storm. at any date. was the astonishment when at the end of the month. no doubt. that if he had to repay on the 15th the 50. he had disappeared. it was evident the good fellow had not gone to such an expense on his own account. de Boville. which Captain Gaumard had not dared to apply for. he must be a ruined man. they must have found snug berths elsewhere. engaged on board some other vessel. therefore. passed his quid from one cheek to the other. recovered from his illness.500 francs of bills. Morrel. were paid by Cocles with equal punctuality. it was impossible for him to remain solvent. The opinion of all the commercial men was that. he had time granted. the worthy tar seemed much embarrassed. Morrel met Penelon. When he saw his employer. The worthy shipowner knew. and only acknowledged the squeeze of the hand which Morrel as usual gave him by a slight pressure in return. for he was newly clad. but the owner. as they reached him. Morrel attributed Penelon's embarrassment to the elegance of his attire. who was going up. and Morrel made extraordinary efforts to get in all his resources. drew on one side into the corner of the landing-place. it would seem. the inspector of prisons. Cocles thus remained in his accustomed tranquillity. hearing of his arrival. his departure left no trace except in the memories of these three persons. and thus his bashfulness arose from the fact of his not having. for which. and. stared stupidly with his great eyes. The month passed. "Worthy fellows!" said Morrel. and was even in request. As he descended the staircase. and as in that city he had had no intercourse but with the mayor. Fortunately. as he went away. Still confidence was not restored to all minds. worn mourning for the Pharaon longer. the day after. he was. He delayed presenting himself at Morrel's. and to offer him employment from his new master. or two days after his visit to Morrel. and none of the banks would give him credit. It was Morrel alone who remembered with alarm. Great. As to the sailors of the Pharaon. The agent of Thomson & French had not been again seen at Marseilles. as well as the debt due to the inspector of prisons.exactitude. Formerly his paper. He brought him also the amount of his wages. Morrel now tried to negotiate bills at ninety days only. and M. made good use of his money. Morrel had some funds coming in on which he could rely. went to see him. and on the 30th the 32. under the reverses which had successively weighed down Morrel. was taken with confidence. and. Captain Gaumard. and tried to console him. thanks to the delay granted by the Englishman.

had great influence over his father. The poor women felt instinctively that they required all their strength to support the blow that impended. This was the young man whom his mother and . and did not even know what it meant. Maximilian Morrel. two drafts which M. At the time when he decided on his profession his father had no desire to choose for him. Morrel had long thought of Danglars. and left it as sub-lieutenant of the 53d of the line. but had kept away from some instinctive motive. "we are indeed ruined. upright young man. He had at once declared for a military life. he was awaited by his family with extreme anxiety. who was in garrison at Nimes. Morrel had thought of Danglars. could save Morrel. for he returned home crushed by the humiliation of a refusal. But. though hardly two and twenty. to meet the creditors. Morrel did not utter a complaint." said the two women to Emmanuel. "Then. Yet. It was said at this moment that Danglars was worth from six to eight millions of francs. and that Morrel had gone away and left his chief clerk Emmanuel. and had unlimited credit. On the 1st. the house opened as usual. Morrel had fully anticipated. On the 20th of August it was known at Marseilles that he had left town in the mailcoach. and had lain under great obligations to Morrel in former days. and then it was said that the bills would go to protest at the end of the month. examined all bills presented with the usual scrutiny. and had delayed as long as possible availing himself of this last resource. since to him it was owing that Danglars entered the service of the Spanish banker. In his regiment Maximilian Morrel was noted for his rigid observance. And Morrel was right. passed brilliantly through the Polytechnic School. who was now immensely rich. to come to them as speedily as possible. and had in consequence studied hard. without taking a crown from his pocket. moreover. on his arrival. and." It was agreed in a brief council held among them. paid all with the usual precision. All this was incomprehensible. with the tenacity peculiar to prophets of bad news. and Cocles appeared behind the grating of the counter. pressed Emmanuel's hand with friendly warmth. contrary to all expectation. he had but to pass his word for a loan. then. the failure was put off until the end of September. or say one harsh word. not only of the obligations imposed on a soldier. but also of the duties of a man. when the 31st of August came. and he thus gained the name of "the stoic." We need hardly say that many of those who gave him this epithet repeated it because they had heard it.August rolled by in unceasing efforts on the part of Morrel to renew his credit or revive the old. He embraced his weeping wife and daughter. and his cashier Cocles. There came in. and then going to his private room on the second floor had sent for Cocles. Morrel returned. and expected promotion on the first vacancy. Danglars. for from this journey to Paris they hoped great things. but had consulted young Maximilian's taste. and which Cocles paid as punctually as the bills which the shipowner had accepted. with whom he had laid the foundations of his vast wealth. He was a strong-minded. that Julie should write to her brother. from first to last. and then. For a year he had held this rank. Besides. and Morrel was saved.

and trying to conceal the noise of his footsteps. In the passage she saw a retreating shadow. She would have questioned him as he passed by her. came to his breakfast punctually. and held her for a long time against his bosom. Madame Morrel looked again through the keyhole. went into his office as usual. Julie told her mother. 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. The young lady went towards Madame Morrel.000. and yet had not strength to utter a word. who.sister called to their aid to sustain them under the serious trial which they felt they would soon have to endure. took off her shoes. hoping that when he left his room Morrel would come to them. that her husband was writing on stamped paper. "He is writing. a portfolio. This calmness was more alarming to the two women than the deepest dejection would have been. and his features betraying the utmost consternation.000. For part of the day he went into the court-yard. Night came. They had understood each other without speaking. As to Cocles. and half an hour after Julie had retired. his bills receivable up to the 5th to 4. They had not mistaken the gravity of this event. and only raised his hands to heaven and exclaimed. francs. and a bag of money." she said. but they heard him pass before their door. seated himself on a stone with his head bare and exposed to the blazing sun. what her daughter had not observed. to see through the keyhole what her husband was doing. took her head in his arms. uneasy herself. and then. and counted the money. which. she rose. after dinner. this day he did not leave the house. she shuddered. the two women had watched. for the moment after Morrel had entered his private office with Cocles. had anticipated her mother. but Madame Morrel remarked. "Oh. gave him 14. mademoiselle. Julie saw the latter leave it pale. Madame Morrel sent her daughter to bed. and went stealthily along the passage.000. he seemed completely bewildered.000 or 5. or 8. All his funds amounted to 6. However. that although he was apparently so calm. she had noticed that her father's heart beat violently. The terrible idea that he was writing his will flashed across her. he went into his sleeping-room. francs to meet debts amounting to 287. The young man was too well acquainted with the business of the house. He had not even the means for making a possible settlement on account.000. Emmanuel tried to comfort the women. but returned to his office. when Morrel went down to his dinner. Morrel seemed as calm as ever. and read the Semaphore. it was Julie. Morrel examined the ledgers. opened the portfolio. he placed his daughter beside him. Next day M. not to feel that a great catastrophe hung over the Morrel family. he appeared very calm. but his eloquence faltered. Morrel was writing.500 francs. After dinner Morrel usually went out and used to take his coffee at the Phocaean club. In the evening. mademoiselle. making the best of everything. but the worthy creature hastened down the staircase with unusual precipitation. They listened. and fastened the door inside. trembling. The next .

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

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

and placed his right hand on Morrel's breast. hastening away with the young man. The young man knew quite well that. rushing hastily out of the apartment. but he did not know that matters had reached such a point. He remained motionless on the spot.the corner of the Rue de Musee." continued Emmanuel. come. then. "Father. During this time." he exclaimed. but his desire to make Julie decide immediately made him reply. Did not the messenger say your father's safety depended upon it?" "But what danger threatens him." he said. Instead of going direct to his study. Then. turning pale as death. "we have not fifteen thousand francs in the house." "What will happen then?" "Why. after the succession of misfortunes which had befallen his father. Emmanuel?" said the young girl with hesitation. Madame Morrel had told her son everything. and if you are so long absent as to make me uneasy. then. Morrel had returned to his bed-chamber. M. turned. Maximilian sprang down the staircase. if to-day before eleven o'clock your father has not found someone who will come to his aid. He was thunderstruck. come!" cried she. he ran up-stairs. then. pressing with his left hand something he had concealed under his coat. and saw his father. and woe to him of whom you shall have cause to complain to me!" "Then." "To-day. Emmanuel?" she asked. but suddenly he recoiled." "Well. "to-day is the 5th of September. "Listen. expecting to find his father in his study. your father has nearly three hundred thousand francs to pay?" "Yes. Emmanuel hesitated a moment. we know that. which he was only this moment quitting. is it not?" "Yes. of whose arrival he was ignorant." "Oh. but he rapped there in vain. "what . "it is your opinion that I should obey this invitation?" "Yes. he will be compelled at twelve o'clock to declare himself a bankrupt. at eleven o'clock. then. While he was yet at the door of the study he heard the bedroom door open. Morrel uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of his son. and threw his arms round his father's neck. great changes had taken place in the style of living and housekeeping. I will hasten to rejoin you.

and a man of honor. he said. You have a calm. and closed it behind his son." exclaimed the young man. looking fixedly at his son. and then judge for yourself. father. In this ledger was made out an exact balance-sheet of his affair's." replied Morrel. Morrel opened the door. "There is one for you and one for me--thanks!" Morrel caught his hand." "You have exhausted every resource?" "All. while Maximilian followed him. "what are these weapons for?" "Maximilian. I make no requests or commands." said Maximilian in a gloomy voice. "you are a man. Maximilian. "our name is dishonored!" "Blood washes out dishonor. in heaven's name. father. The young man was overwhelmed as he read." "And in half an hour. after a moment's pause. "Read!" said Morrel." he said. then. Maximilian.257 francs." Then extending his hand towards one of the pistols. to meet this disastrous result?" asked the young man. 287. "Father." replied Morrel. strong mind. Morrel said not a word.are you going to do with that brace of pistols under your coat?" "Oh. "it is your duty. I only ask you to examine my position as if it were your own. this is what I feared!" said Morrel. All he possessed was 15. father." And with a firm step Morrel went up to his study. I do so bid you. went to his desk on which he placed the pistols. then an expression of sublime resignation appeared in his eyes. and I will explain to you. and pointed with his finger to an open ledger. "You have no money coming in on which you can rely?" "None. "You are right. Morrel had to pay. within half an hour." said Morrel. crossing the anteroom. What could he say? What need he add to such a desperate proof in figures?" And have you done all that is possible. "Your mother--your sister! Who will support them?" A shudder ran through the young man's frame. "Father. I understand you.500 francs. and with a slow and sad gesture he ." answered Morrel. trembling as he went. Come." The young man reflected for a moment. you are no ordinary man. "I have. "do you reflect that you are bidding me to live?" "Yes.

my father. live. struggle ardently and courageously. how solemn. Go to work. bending his knee. yes. because in dying he knew what I should do." "My father. but Maximilian caught him in his arms. and bade her adieu. and those two noble hearts were pressed against each other for a moment. so that from day to day the property of those whom I leave in your hands may augment and fructify. Maximilian smiled.'" "My father. my father!" cried the young man. because. yes. perhaps. If. "Be it so. only a bankrupt. Morrel shook his head. the most inexorable will have pity on you. "You know it is not my fault. "And now. the insignia of his rank. and therefore he had suggested it. I bless you in my own name." "Will you not see my sister once more?" asked Maximilian. and kissing his forehead several times said." said Morrel. young man." . all would be changed. how grand. on which you will say in this very office. with the most rigid economy. my corpse is that of an honest but unfortunate man. To you. on the contrary. Then do your best to keep our name free from dishonor. you are the most honorable man I have ever known. Living. yourself. my best friends would avoid my house.took off his two epaulets. "Oh. my son. and in the name of three generations of irreproachable men. "bless me!" Morrel took the head of his son between his two hands. you may raise your head and say. and endeavor to keep your mother and sister away. he has been compelled to break his word. "die in peace. they will accord the time they have refused to me. all Marseilles will follow me in tears to my last home. interest would be converted into doubt. failed in his engagements--in fact." said Morrel. "I know." "Good. Living. my father. 'I am the son of him you killed. dead. if I live. Maximilian. "leave me alone." he said. go and rejoin your mother and sister. "why should you not live?" "If I live. extending his hand to Morrel. pity into hostility. you would feel shame at my name." said the young man. who say through me. that day of complete restoration. A last but final hope was concealed by the young man in the effect of this interview. remember. dead. but he died calmly and peaceably. for the first time. "I saw her this morning. 'My father died because he could not do what I have this day done. then. I die.' On seeing me die such a death. I will live. father. your mother and sister. Reflect how glorious a day it will be." Morrel was about to cast himself on his knees before his son. 'The edifice which misfortune has destroyed. if I live I am only a man who his broken his word. And now there is no more to be said. but appeared resigned. labor. providence may build up again.'" The young man uttered a groan. drew him forward.

" said Morrel. Its agent. Cocles appeared.500 francs. leave me. "Go. my son. When the gentleman who came three months ago--the agent of Thomson & French--arrives. I will. The hand moved on with incredible rapidity. It was no longer the same man--the fearful revelations of the three last days had crushed him. and seated himself. "Yes. Morrel fell back in his chair. and death is preferable to shame!'" "Yes. Maximilian. his eyes fixed on the clock." said Morrel in a tone impossible to describe."Have you no particular commands to leave with me. who will in ten minutes present himself to receive the amount of a bill of 287. father. my son. my father." "Say it. he pulled the bell. my father. Morrel remained an instant standing with his eyes fixed on the door. from humanity. he made a sign with his head. I will not say granted. Let this house be the first repaid. After a moment's interval. "Suppose I was a soldier like you. and a sacred command. he seemed to see its motion. once more. adieu. yes." "Father. What passed in the mind of this man at the supreme moment of his agony . This thought--the house of Morrel is about to stop payment--bent him to the earth more than twenty years would otherwise have done. then putting forth his arm." and once again embracing his father with convulsive pressure. would you not say to me. as you said just now." The young man remained standing and motionless. went into the anteroom. "do you remain in the ante-chamber." said his father. it may be. selfishness--it is not for me to read men's hearts--has had any pity for me. "My worthy Cocles. and respect this man. When his son had left him. "Be it so. "And now. my father?" inquired Maximilian in a faltering voice. "yes. having but the force of will and not the power of execution. and ordered to carry a certain redoubt. he said. announce his arrival to me. 'Go. but offered me three months. and you knew I must be killed in the assault." And he rushed out of the study." said the young man. I would be alone." said Maximilian." "The house of Thomson & French is the only one who. there were seven minutes left. for you are dishonored by delay. that was all. or. You will find my will in the secretary in my bedroom." Cocles made no reply. "Hear me.

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

"Ah. "The Pharaon. sir. it must be a miracle of heaven! Impossible. and on the deck was Captain Gaumard giving orders. who had been afraid to go up into the study. At this moment Emmanuel entered. he was not there when I returned. refused to comprehend such incredible. clued up sails. impossible!" But what was real and not less incredible was the purse he held in his hand. "the Pharaon!" "What--what--the Pharaon! Are you mad. In a moment they were at the Cannebiere. "Father. wonderful to see. fabulous facts. uttered these words in a low tone: "Be happy.--"Monsieur Morrel!" "It is his voice!" said Julie. She cast anchor. the Pharaon!" said every voice. and loaded. dear ones. But his son came in. and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like your good deeds. his understanding weakened by such events. "what can it mean?--the Pharaon?" "Come. but. and heaven have pity upon us if it be false intelligence!" They all went out. of Marseilles. printed in white letters. watched the scene with delight. Morrel. sir--they signal the Pharaon! The Pharaon is entering the harbor!" Morrel fell back in his chair. "if this be so." "Monsieur Morrel!" exclaimed a voice on the stairs." said Morrel. And. the acceptance receipted--the splendid diamond. strange to say. his strength was failing him. and ten thousand persons who came to corroborate the testimony." ." "My dear friends. unheard-of. there was the evidence of the senses. There was a crowd on the pier." exclaimed Cocles. with cochineal and indigo. with his face half-covered by a black beard. noble heart. concealed behind the sentry-box." cried Maximilian. be blessed for all the good thou hast done and wilt do hereafter. "let us go and see. a man. "The Pharaon. was a ship bearing on her stern these words. in the presence and amid the applause of the whole city witnessing this event. All the crowd gave way before Morrel. in front of the tower of Saint-Jean." She was the exact duplicate of the other Pharaon. As Morrel and his son embraced on the pier-head. and they say she is now coming into port." "The Pharaon. Morrel & Son. and on the stairs met Madame Morrel. and good old Penelon making signals to M. To doubt any longer was impossible." said Morrel. "how could you say the Pharaon was lost? The lookout has signalled her. and who. Emmanuel? You know the vessel is lost. as that had been.corner of the Rue de Musee. "The Pharaon!" he cried. his countenance full of animation and joy. rising from his seat.

were at Florence. Italy: Sinbad the Sailor. like every unsuccessful sportsman. was shaking hands most cordially with all the crowd around him. who. 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. They had agreed to see the Carnival at Rome that year. and that Franz. where he was assured that red partridges abounded. "you might have capital sport." . if your excellency chose." said the unknown. wrapped himself in his coat and lay down. "And now. and re-embarked for Marciana. One evening he cast off the painter of a sailboat from the iron ring that secured it to the dock at Leghorn. and thanking with a look the unknown benefactor whom he seemed to be seeking in the skies. thence he once again looked towards Morrel. and conveyed him to a yacht splendidly fitted up. especially when you have no great desire to sleep on the Piazza del Popolo. he remained at Florence. he returned to the boat very much out of temper. took him on board. and hailing three times. He traversed the island. and. or the Campo Vaccino. Signor Pastrini replied that he had only two rooms and a parlor on the third floor. and without being observed. the cradle of Bonaparte) to visit Elba.And with a smile expressive of supreme content. Jacopo!" Then a launch came to shore. as if only awaiting this signal. weeping with joy. Franz only succeeded in killing a few partridges. Piazza di Spagna. after having followed the traces which the footsteps of the giant have left. "farewell kindness. should act as cicerone to Albert. As for Franz. Chapter 31. Jacopo. shouted "Jacopo. descended one of the flights of steps provided for debarkation. to reserve comfortable apartments for them. which he offered at the low charge of a louis per diem. he took a fancy into his head (having already visited Corsica. and spending two or three evenings at the houses of the Florentine nobility. the proprietor of the Hotel de Londres. two young men belonging to the first society of Paris. Albert started for Naples. Two hours after he again landed at Pianosa. Towards the beginning of the year 1838. and. the yacht instantly put out to sea. As it is no inconsiderable affair to spend the Carnival at Rome. The sport was bad. the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf and the Baron Franz d'Epinay. but wishing to make the best use of the time that was left. the waiting-place of Napoleon." said the captain. "Ah. and said to the crew. who for the last three or four years had inhabited Italy. they wrote to Signor Pastrini.--"To the Island of Elba!" The boat shot out of the harbor like a bird and the next morning Franz disembarked at Porto-Ferrajo. They accepted his offer. on whose deck he sprung with the activity of a sailor. he left his hiding-place. humanity. and after having passed a few days in exploring the paradise of the Cascine.

" "Where can I sleep?" "On shore in the grottos. and his apartments at Rome were not yet available. or on board in your cloak. if your excellency pleases. and if the wind drops we can use our oars. what is this island?" "The Island of Monte Cristo."Where?" "Do you see that island?" continued the captain." replied the captain." "What game shall I find there!" "Thousands of wild goats. "Well. and does not contain an acre of land capable of cultivation. "No." "But I have no permission to shoot over this island. "A desert island in the midst of the Mediterranean must be a curiosity." "What do you mean?" ." As Franz had sufficient time. pointing to a conical pile rising from the indigo sea." "To whom does this island belong?" "To Tuscany. besides." "Ah. we can leave as soon as you like--we can sail as well by night as by day. he accepted the proposition." said Franz with an incredulous smile. but by browsing the shrubs and trees that grow out of the crevices of the rocks." "Your excellency does not require a permit." asked he. Upon his answer in the affirmative. "but we must warn your excellency that the island is an infected port. indeed!" said the young man. the sailors exchanged a few words together in a low tone. for the island is uninhabited." "It is very natural." "Who live upon the stones. "what now? Is there any difficulty in the way?" "No. "Well. this island is a mass of rocks. I suppose.

Now this rock it has met has been a long and narrow boat. and if it becomes known that we have been there. rob travellers at the gates of Rome. then. at Porto-Ferrajo. that a little merchant vessel. Franz waited until all was in order. pirates existed only in the romances of Cooper and Captain Marryat. it seems to me. Sardinia." cried Franz. every day. and one at the helm--he resumed the conversation." "Your excellency is mistaken. I shall not. or an English yacht that was expected at Bastia." "Yes.. a very different kind of game from the goats. yet serves occasionally as a refuge for the smugglers and pirates who come from Corsica. if. there are pirates. but. we shall have to perform quarantine for six days on our return to Leghorn. and when the sail was filled. "Gaetano." The captain gave his orders. who are. your excellency lived at Leghorn. the helm was put up. you would hear. that's as long as the Almighty took to make the world! Too long a wait--too long. near some desert and gloomy island." "Well. like the bandits who were believed to have been exterminated by Pope Leo XII. doubtless." said he to the captain." "But. or at Civita Vecchia. "Nor I." "I knew there were smugglers. and the destruction of the regency. and the four sailors had taken their places--three forward. and who yet. manned by six or eight men. some dark and stormy night. like us. from time to time. who lay wrapped in his cloak at the bottom of the . who have surprised and plundered it. no one knows what has become of it." "But who will say your excellency has been to Monte Cristo?" "Oh. "you tell me Monte Cristo serves as a refuge for pirates. and Africa. nor I. Has not your excellency heard that the French charge d'affaires was robbed six months ago within five hundred paces of Velletri?" "Oh. as bandits plunder a carriage in the recesses of a forest. and it is true. it has struck on a rock and foundered. but I thought that since the capture of Algiers. "Then steer for Monte Cristo."Monte Cristo although uninhabited. I heard that. and the boat was soon sailing in the direction of the island. has not arrived." asked Franz." "The deuce! That puts a different face on the matter. Six days! Why. yes." chorused the sailors. your excellency.

although they appeared perfectly tranquil yet it was evident that they were on the alert. Soon the water rushes out of the scupper-holes like a whale spouting. and won victory at a single thrust. as a point of strategy and not from cowardice. why?" "Because." replied Gaetano. As for the sailors. "why no complaints are made to the government. the vessel gives a last groan. they transfer from the vessel to their own boat whatever they think worth taking. and then all is over. with green bushes and trees growing in the crevices. but now that they had started. they attach to every one's neck a four and twenty pound ball. and the air was so clear that they could already distinguish the rocks heaped on one another." said the captain. "why do not those who have been plundered complain to the French. and disappears. in the first place. forming a vast whirlpool in the ocean. Franz would have hesitated. and I have answered. that's all. Then they lift and sink again. "but you questioned me. and on which a . Do you understand now. First one gun'l goes under. and then they leave her. he thought it would be cowardly to draw back. and yet I never saw even the shadow of a bandit or a pirate." The wind blew strongly. and that they carefully watched the glassy surface over which they were sailing. "I have travelled through Sicily and Calabria--I have sailed two months in the Archipelago. retreated. "Yes. and both go under at once. combat it with the most unalterable coolness. and as I wish to enjoy it as long as possible. spins round and round. like cannon balls in an arsenal. and why the vessel never reaches port?" It is probable that if Gaetano had related this previous to proposing the expedition. and your conversation is most interesting. "Bah!" said he. He was one of those men who do not rashly court danger. As they drew near the island seemed to lift from the sea." "I did not tell your excellency this to deter you from your project. the boat made six or seven knots an hour. he treated any peril as he would an adversary in a duel. if at all. then the other. Sardinian. Calm and resolute.boat." "Yes. At the end of ten minutes the vessel begins to roll heavily and settle down. so that in five minutes nothing but the eye of God can see the vessel where she lies at the bottom of the sea. and they were rapidly reaching the end of their voyage. but if danger presents itself.--calculated its probable method of approach. or Tuscan governments?" "Why?" said Gaetano with a smile. steer for Monte Cristo. All at once there's a noise like a cannon--that's the air blowing up the deck. a large hole is chopped in the vessel's bottom. then they bind the crew hand and foot. was quick to see an opening for attack.

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

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

"I mean that they have killed an enemy. For a man who. we shall be able to hold them in check. like Franz. viewed his position in its true light. be as wise as Nestor and as prudent as Ulysses." "Silence. continuing his investigation. and who ." returned the captain. and the two bandits make six." "What do you mean by having made a stiff?--having assassinated a man?" said Franz. "It is not their fault that they are bandits." "By all means."Then you know the men who are now on Monte Cristo?" "Oh. which is a very different thing. who knew that he had several thousand francs in his belt. so that if they prove troublesome." "Just our number. it was a grave one. and who had no reason to be devoted to him. smugglers are not thieves. for the last time. yes." "How many are they?" "Four. but that of the authorities. steer to Monte Cristo. I exhort you. so. we sailors are like freemasons. and recognize each other by signs. I do more than permit." "And do you think we have nothing to fear if we land?" "Nothing at all. Do you think they will grant it?" "Without doubt. Every one obeyed. but your excellency will permit us to take all due precautions." "Yes. calculating the chances of peril. He was alone in the darkness with sailors whom he did not know." "How so?" "Because they are pursued for having made a stiff. "let us demand hospitality of these smugglers and bandits. as if it was not in a Corsican's nature to revenge himself. then!" said Gaetano." "But these two Corsican bandits?" said Franz." said the young man. "Well.

which had appeared improbable during the day.--which were very beautiful. indeed. when they were opposite the fire. and cried. he was about to land. then his comrades disembarked. Gaetano sprang to shore. Gaetano skirted the light." As soon as Gaetano had transmitted this answer. Franz with his disembarkment. he saw the fire more brilliant than ever. half artist. and they . you are the master. singing a fishing song. on an island which had. and his gun in his hand. presented arms after the manner of a sentinel. the sentinel gave an order to one of the men seated round the fire. thanks to the smugglers and bandits. the smugglers with their goat. the man on the beach. whose eyes were now more accustomed to it. When the boat was within twenty paces of the shore. The boat was moored to the shore. The man who had disappeared returned suddenly on the opposite side to that by which he had left. "Will your excellency give your name. he kept his eye on the crew. their eyes fixed on the boat. who remained at the shore) to their fire. could see the looming shore along which the boat was sailing. placed as he was between two possible sources of danger. "Come. without any other escort than these men. and then. make yourself at home. it means at once. They soon appeared satisfied and returned (with the exception of one. and about it five or six persons seated. but in the midst of all this carelessness it was evident that they mutually observed each other. as they rounded a rocky point. and the vessel was once more cleaving the waves. and a sailor held his rifle. at which the carcass of a goat was roasting. the sailors with their sails. carefully keeping the boat in the shadow. did not excite any suspicion. who. you are welcome." It is like that Turkish phrase of Moliere's that so astonished the bourgeois gentleman by the number of things implied in its utterance. consequently.--merely say I am a Frenchman travelling for pleasure. then." The Italian s'accommodi is untranslatable. his dress. The sailors had again hoisted sail.--if not with envy. of which his companions sung the chorus. exchanged a few words with the sentinel. seemed very probable at night. at least with curiosity. he made a sign with his head to the sentinel. "S'accommodi. no disquietude. At the first words of the song the men seated round the fire arose and approached the landing-place. The history of the scuttled vessels. but which evidently concerned him. and. "My name must rest unknown. every one seemed occupied. who carried a carbine. or remain incognito?" asked the captain. Gaetano then exchanged a few words with this man which the traveller did not understand. four strokes of the oar brought them to land. Gaetano had the other. said. and lastly came Franz. a very religious name. On the other hand. Franz coolly cocked both barrels. evidently seeking to know who the new-comers were and what were their intentions. he steered to the centre of the circle. turning to the boat. half dandy. who rose and disappeared among the rocks. One of his guns was swung over his shoulder. "Who comes there?" in Sardinian. Through the darkness Franz. The blaze illumined the sea for a hundred paces around. but which did not seem to Franz likely to afford him much hospitality.had often examined his weapons. enter. Not a word was spoken. The sailors did not wait for a second invitation.

" added he. while two sailors kindled torches at the fire to light them on their way. he has plenty. "go and try. so they say. when the captain returned with a mysterious air." "Favorably or otherwise?" . and saw by the mass of cinders that had accumulated that he was not the first to discover this retreat. it is not that. for he cried out. in which seats had been cut. "if the smell of their roast meat tempts you. which was." "You know this chief. half a dozen partridges. invites you to sup with him." "Well. and a good fire to roast them by. and to spare. but he has a very comfortable one all the same. had turned to appetite.advanced a few paces to find a comfortable bivouac." "You are a born diplomat. and rather a peculiar one. "Well. the spot they chose did not suit the smuggler who filled the post of sentinel. "the chief. but. but he makes one condition. who was told you were a young Frenchman. or rather. before he will receive you at his house. doubtless." "His house? Has he built one here. appearance of his hosts. They advanced about thirty paces. As for his suspicions. then?" "No. "this chief is very polite. if you please. Franz lowered a torch." returned Gaetano. wine. at sight of the goat. if not friendly. not unlike sentry-boxes. doubtless. Franz waited impatiently. one of the halting-places of the wandering visitors of Monte Cristo. and then stopped at a small esplanade surrounded with rocks." returned Franz. "Not that way. his anxiety had quite disappeared. bread. once on terra firma." observed Franz." "Oh. for supper. inhaling the aroma of the roasted meat. then?" "I have heard talk of him. and advanced to the opposite side. I will go and offer them two of our birds for a slice." said Franz. He mentioned this to Gaetano." Meanwhile the sailors had collected dried sticks and branches with which they made a fire. once that he had seen the indifferent. "Besides. Around in the crevices of the rocks grew a few dwarf oaks and thick bushes of myrtles." Gaetano faltered an excuse. "anything new?--do they refuse?" "On the contrary. who replied that nothing could be more easy than to prepare a supper when they had in their boat. and I see no objection--the more so as I bring my share of the supper.

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

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

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

that I too much respect the laws of hospitality to ask your name or title. Pray observe. in which they sunk to the instep." he said.' and really I have nothing to complain of. "make no apologies. and the handles resplendent with gems. and dressed in a plain white tunic. and projecting direct from the brow. if the secret of this abode were discovered. as white as pearls. but extremely well made. not even taking his eyes off him. and." replied Franz. those of Raoul in the 'Huguenots. but because I should not have the certainty I now possess of separating myself from all the rest of mankind at pleasure. it is yours to share. it is at your disposal. But such as is my hermitage. like the men of the south. and a Nubian. and. In a recess was a kind of divan. for what I see makes me think of the wonders of the 'Arabian Nights. made a sign to his master that all was prepared in the dining-room. I should doubtless. not for the loss it occasioned me. The host gave Franz time to recover from his surprise.'" "Alas. my dear sir. which would be exceedingly annoying. As for myself. while his teeth. this island is deserted. for instance. during the greater portion of the year. of beautiful shape and color. if you will." said the unknown to Franz. but as. had small hands and feet. was the splendor of the apartment in which he found himself. "Now. were set off to admiration by the black mustache that encircled them. His pallor was so peculiar. and also in front of another door. Let me now endeavor to make you forget this temporary unpleasantness. a tolerable supper and pretty comfortable beds. 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. and who was incapable of resuming the healthy glow and hue of life. that it seemed to pertain to one who had been long entombed." "Ma foi. black as ebony. from the ceiling hung a lamp of Venetian glass. such as is my supper. who had treated Gaetano's description as a fable. leading into a second apartment which seemed to be brilliantly illuminated. moreover. while the feet rested on a Turkey carpet. his nose. "I do not know if you are of my opinion. But what astonished Franz. Ali. returned look for look. tapestry hung before the door by which Franz had entered. after a pause. The entire chamber was lined with crimson brocade. I may say with Lucullus. "a thousand excuses for the precaution taken in your introduction hither. was of the pure Greek type. and offer you what no doubt you did not expect to find here--that is to say. I have always observed that they bandage people's eyes who penetrate enchanted palaces. He was not particularly tall. if I could have anticipated the honor of your visit.his eyes were penetrating and sparkling. . is the supper ready?" At this moment the tapestry moved aside. I would have prepared for it. worked with flowers of gold. surmounted with a stand of Arabian swords in silver scabbards. I only request you to give me one by which I may have the pleasure of addressing you. quite straight. find on my return my temporary retirement in a state of great disorder. "Sir.

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

Then I have my mode of dispensing justice. without respite or appeal. and which no one sees. I am free as a bird and have wings like one. persecuted by society. "You have not guessed rightly. as he replied. "And like the celebrated sailor whose name you have assumed." "Ah. and stay there. your pallid complexion. laughing with his singular laugh which displayed his white and sharp teeth. "You have suffered a great deal. half-cruelty. silent and sure. Ah.--"your voice. "What makes you suppose so?" "Everything. if you had tasted my life. I am king of all creation. But when I added to the gun an English cutlass with which I had shivered his highness's yataghan to pieces. a sort of philosopher." answered Franz. but on condition that the poor fellow never again set foot in Tunis. and the little man in the blue cloak." "Revenge." "I?--I live the happiest life possible. the bey yielded. for whenever the coward sees the first glimpse of the shores of Africa. and agreed to forgive the hand and head.poor devil's punishment. I am pleased with one place. Such as you see me I am. "and I made some others also which I hope I may fulfil in due season. and one day perhaps I shall go to Paris to rival Monsieur Appert." said the unknown with a singular smile. I get tired of it. sir?" said Franz inquiringly." . "you seem to me like a man who." he said. Sinbad started and looked fixedly at him. and even the life you lead. and can only be induced to appear again when we are out of sight of that quarter of the globe. hardly knowing what to think of the half-kindness. The unknown fixed on the young man one of those looks which penetrate into the depth of the heart and thoughts." Franz remained a moment silent and pensive." replied Franz. my attendants obey my slightest wish. by way of changing the conversation. "you pass your life in travelling?" "Yes. you would not desire any other. This was a useless clause in the bargain. with which his host related the brief narrative. his eyes gave forth gleams of extraordinary ferocity. and would never return to the world unless you had some great project to accomplish there. which condemns or pardons. your look. he runs down below. Sometimes I amuse myself by delivering some bandit or criminal from the bonds of the law. the real life of a pasha." Although Sinbad pronounced these words with much calmness. and leave it. has a fearful account to settle with it. for instance!" observed Franz. I made a vow at a time when I little thought I should ever be able to accomplish it. "And why revenge?" he asked. "Because." responded Sinbad.

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

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

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

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

one of those chaste figures. like a Christian angel in the midst of Olympus. He thought himself in a sepulchre. and in a last look about him saw the vision of modesty completely veiled. The Waking. and listened to the dash of the waves on the beach. went towards the opening. Then among them glided like a pure ray. into which a ray of sunlight in pity scarcely penetrated. chatting and laughing. very soft and odoriferous. and as if the statues had been but shadows from the tomb. and he was held in cool serpent-like embraces. those three celebrated courtesans. The vision had fled. on the shore the sailors were sitting. weary of a struggle that taxed his very soul. The air and water were shining in the beams of the morning sun. reminded him of the illusiveness of his vision. Lips of stone turned to flame. There for some time he enjoyed the fresh breeze which played on his brow. Cleopatra. he seemed still to be in a dream. hair flowing like waves. Then the three statues advanced towards him with looks of love. and approached the couch on which he was reposing. and found himself lying on his bournous in a bed of dry heather. and at ten yards from them the boat was at anchor.Phryne. and through a kind of fanlight saw a blue sea and an azure sky. so pure. The more he strove against this unhallowed passion the more his senses yielded to its thrall. He recalled his arrival on the island. and looks inflexible and ardent like those with which the serpent charms the bird. an excellent supper. and at length. yielding for the first time to the sway of the drug. Chapter 32. so calm. undulating gracefully on the water. He was for some time without reflection or thought for the divine charm which is in the things of nature. and then he gave way before looks that held him in a torturing grasp and delighted his senses as with a voluptuous kiss. so grand. and a . Messalina. He stretched forth his hand. his presentation to a smuggler chief. and assuming attitudes which the gods could not resist. He advanced several paces towards the point whence the light came. he rose to his seat. but which saints withstood. It seemed to Franz that he closed his eyes. When Franz returned to himself. those calm shadows. breasts of ice became like heated lava. and touched stone. and then followed a dream of passion like that promised by the Prophet to the elect. and to all the excitement of his dream succeeded the calmness of reality. their throats bare. that left against the rocks a lace of foam as white as silver. so that to Franz. love was a sorrow and voluptuousness a torture. and once more awakened memory. a subterranean palace full of splendor. they had vanished at his waking. which seemed to veil its virgin brow before these marble wantons. those soft visions. specially after a fantastic dream. He found that he was in a grotto. their feet hidden in their long white tunics. as burning mouths were pressed to his thirsty lips. he gave way and sank back breathless and exhausted beneath the kisses of these marble goddesses. then gradually this view of the outer world. and the enchantment of his marvellous dream.

but without any idea that the noise could be heard at the distance which separated the yacht from the shore. all reality. and so strong a hold had it taken of his imagination. a faculty for absorbing the pure air. there exists a man who has received me in this island. "What are your excellency's orders?" inquired Gaetano. if it would amuse you. Thus every now and then he saw in fancy amid the sailors. "In the first place. which rose gracefully as it expanded in the air. so deep was the impression made in his mind by the dream. a slight cloud of smoke was seen at the stern of the vessel. and I will get you the torch you ask for. yes. but he trusts you will excuse him." "So. and the patron. Giovanni. or undulating in the vessel. however. At the stern the mysterious stranger was standing up looking towards the shore." said Franz. and his departed while I was asleep?" "He exists as certainly as that you may see his small yacht with all her sails spread. and holding a spy-glass in his hand. and directed it towards the yacht. even in the very face of open day. He was attired as he had been on the previous evening. accosting him." he added. but I have always given it up. Otherwise. Gaetano pointed in a direction in which a small vessel was making sail towards the southern point of Corsica. do you hear?" observed Gaetano. light a torch. After a second. and entered the subterranean . as very important business calls him to Malaga. and waved his pocket-handkerchief to his guest in token of adieu. light me a torch. and two or three times the same fancy has come over me. "The Signor Sinbad has left his compliments for your excellency. Franz returned the salute by shaking his handkerchief as an exchange of signals." replied the patron. Franz adjusted his telescope. entertained me right royally.spoonful of hashish. "There. "to find the entrance to the enchanted apartment. I understand. he was free from the slightest headache. "this is. in all probability. It seemed. you will. and enjoying the bright sunshine more vividly than ever. he felt a certain degree of lightness. seated on a rock. on the contrary. and then Franz heard a slight report. Gaetano. then. recognize your host in the midst of his crew. your excellency. and if you will use your glass. "he is bidding you adieu. one of the shadows which had shared his dream with looks and kisses. With much pleasure. that at least a year had elapsed since all these things had passed." "Ah. then. his head was perfectly clear. said. But I too have had the idea you have. He went gayly up to the sailors. Franz took the lamp. "and give it to his excellency." Giovanni obeyed." The young man took his carbine and fired it in the air. Gaetano was not mistaken." So saying. who rose as soon as they perceived him. and desires us to express the regret he feels at not being able to take his leave in person. and his body refreshed.

" added Franz. rather than enjoying a pleasure." and he was irresistibly attracted towards the grotto. and at the end of a quarter of an hour he had killed a goat and two kids. in the first place. and Franz could not consider them as game. or a projecting point on which he did not lean and press in the hopes it would give way. others had before him attempted the same thing. and he would beat any . The second visit was a long one." "But such services as these might involve him with the authorities of the country in which he practices this kind of philanthropy. and when he returned the kid was roasted and the repast ready. in spite of the failure of his first search. like him. When Franz appeared again on the shore. unless that. but it was in vain that he carried his torch all round the exterior surface of the grotto. Then. and. followed by Gaetano." replied Gaetano with a laugh. much more enthralling. "And what cares he for that. he began a second.grotto. he is one who fears neither God nor Satan. Moreover. but even then he could not distinguish anything. by traces of smoke. though wild and agile as chamois." he remarked to Gaetano. continuing her flight towards Corsica. they say. and he is going to land them. but a bird." "Don't you remember. while it seems he is in the direction of Porto-Vecchio. which he had utterly forgotten. "you told me that Signor Sinbad was going to Malaga. and he lost two hours in his attempts. he did not see a fissure without introducing the blade of his hunting sword into it. He recognized the place where he had awaked by the bed of heather that was there. and would at any time run fifty leagues out of his course to do a poor devil a service. after having told Gaetano to roast one of the two kids. "Why. and Gaetano smiled. his yacht is not a ship. without strict scrutiny. All was vain. At the end of this time he gave up his search." said Franz. These animals. the yacht only seemed like a small white speck on the horizon. He took his fowling-piece. Gaetano reminded him that he had come for the purpose of shooting goats. He saw nothing. occupied his mind." replied Gaetano." said the patron. "or any authorities? He smiles at them. and began to hunt over the island with the air of a man who is fulfilling a duty. Let them try to pursue him! Why. and he saw the little yacht. Since. other ideas. Yet he did not leave a foot of this granite wall. the evening before. which were at last utterly useless. He looked again through his glass. "Precisely so. in vain. Franz was sitting on the spot where he was on the previous evening when his mysterious host had invited him to supper. now like a sea-gull on the wave. were too much like domestic goats. "I told you that among the crew there were two Corsican brigands?" "True. he had really been the hero of one of the tales of the "Thousand and One Nights. as impenetrable as futurity. "Ah.

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

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

but from now till please." said Albert." "Well. entering. your Eternal City is a nice sort of place. "Well. went to bed. "for the very three days it is most needed." Morcerf then." replied keeping up the dignity of the capital eyes of his guest. that you were too late--there is not a single carriage to be had--that is. The next morning Franz woke first." replied Franz." "Ah. Roman Bandits. supped. Chapter 33. and that has been let to a Russian prince for twenty sequins a day. for the last three days of the carnival." "Yes. "no carriage to be had?" "Just so. "let us enjoy the present without gloomy forebodings for the future. a window!" exclaimed Signor Pastrini. "to-day is Thursday. there was only one left on the fifth floor of the Doria Palace. and without waiting for Franz to question him. and dreamed he was racing all over Rome at Carnival time in a coach with six horses." "My friend." said the landlord triumphantly. and instantly rang the bell. when I would not promise you anything. and who knows what may arrive between this and Sunday?" "Ten or twelve thousand travellers will arrive. with that delighted philosophy which believes that nothing is impossible to a full purse or well-lined pocketbook. slept soundly. excellency. "I feared yesterday." "What is the matter?" said Albert." "At least we can have a window?" "Where?" "In the Corso." returned Franz. "you have guessed it. that is something. who was desirous of of the Christian world in the carriages to be had from Sunday Sunday you can have fifty if you "Ah. The sound had not yet died away when Signor Pastrini himself entered." "That is to say. excellency." said Morcerf." Pastrini." returned Franz." . "which will make it still more difficult.question of how much shall be charged for them.--"utterly impossible. "that there are no to Tuesday evening.

tomorrow. though I see it on stilts. "do you know what is the best thing we can do? It is to pass the Carnival at Venice." said Franz to Albert. excellency." "In an hour it will be at the door. excellency"--said Pastrini. still striving to gain his point. the devil." "Do your excellencies still wish for a carriage from now to Sunday morning?" "Parbleu!" said Albert." cried Albert. who has plundered me pretty well already." said Franz. "I will do all I can." "When do you wish the carriage to be here?" "In an hour. in the hope of making more out of me. and that will be your fault. "I warn you." . I tell you beforehand. "Now go.The two young men looked at each other with an air of stupefaction." "Ah. he will take a less price than the one I offer you. "do you think we are going to run about on foot in the streets of Rome. and then you will make a good profit." "Do not give yourselves the trouble. there we are sure of obtaining gondolas if we cannot have carriages." "And now we understand each other. we will give you twelve piastres for to-day. I know the prices of all the carriages. that as I have been four times before at Rome. you will lose the preference. and the day after." "And. and I hope you will be satisfied. who is mine also. like lawyer's clerks?" "I hasten to comply with your excellencies' wishes. as I am not a millionaire." returned Franz. and I will. the carriage will cost you six piastres a day. he is an old friend of mine. with the smile peculiar to the Italian speculator when he confesses defeat. and we shall have complete success. like the gentleman in the next apartments. "I came to Rome to see the Carnival. "or I shall go myself and bargain with your affettatore. no. We will disguise ourselves as monster pulchinellos or shepherds of the Landes." "Bravo! an excellent idea." returned Signor Pastrini. "Well." "But. only. and.

the young men would have thought themselves happy to have secured it for the last three days of the Carnival. skirt the outer wall. He was to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo. Franz and Albert descended. thus they would behold the Colosseum without finding their impressions dulled by first looking on the Capitol. and your excellencies will do well not to think of that any longer. Signor Pastrini had promised them a banquet. you pay double. and a month to study it. seeing Franz approach the window. but it was not for that I came. "shall I bring the carriage nearer to the palace?" Accustomed as Franz was to the Italian phraseology. the Forum. "I am delighted to have your approbation." and the Hotel de Londres was the "palace. it was a hack conveyance which was elevated to the rank of a private carriage in honor of the occasion. Suddenly the daylight began to fade away. the Arch of Septimus Severus. somewhat piqued. at Rome things can or cannot be done." "It is much more convenient at Paris. "for that reason. as he had shown him Saint Peter's by daylight. and re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni. The day was passed at Saint Peter's alone. and then to the Colosseum. Franz took out his watch--it was half-past four. in spite of its humble exterior. They returned to the hotel. Franz thought that he came to hear his dinner praised. the carriage approached the palace. their excellencies stretched their legs along the seats. "Where do your excellencies wish to go?" asked he." returned Signor Pastrini. the cicerone sprang into the seat behind. at the door Franz ordered the coachman to be ready at eight. and the Via Sacra.An hour after the vehicle was at the door. He wished to show Albert the Colosseum by moonlight. and it is done directly. When we show a friend a city one has already visited. his first impulse was to look round him. But Albert did not know that it takes a day to see Saint Peter's. "Excellency. when you are told anything cannot be done. there is an end of it." said Pastrini. "Excellency. he gave them a tolerable repast. "To Saint Peter's first. Franz was the "excellency." The genius for laudation characteristic of the race was in that phrase.--when anything cannot be done. and began accordingly. lighting his cigar. the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina." the vehicle was the "carriage. I do not understand why they travel. At the end of the dinner he entered in person." "Did you come to tell us you have procured a carriage?" asked Albert." . but these words were addressed to him. They sat down to dinner. "No." "That is what all the French say." cried the cicerone. but at the first words he was interrupted." returned Albert. we feel the same pride as when we point out a woman whose lover we have been. but.

to drive round the walls. or blockheads like us. that is. "But. he is a bandit. but I can assure you he is quite unknown at Paris. "you had some motive for coming here." "Well. their walk on the Boulevard de Gand. and re-enter by the Porta San Giovanni?" "These are my words exactly." "You have never heard his name?" "Never." "Dangerous!--and why?" "On account of the famous Luigi Vampa. who may this famous Luigi Vampa be?" inquired Albert. and the Cafe de Paris." It is of course understood that Albert resided in the aforesaid street."But. yes. ever do travel. which did not seem very clear. if you are on good terms with its frequenters." . Signor Pastrini remained silent a short time." said Albert. appeared every day on the fashionable walk. and dined frequently at the only restaurant where you can really dine." "You mean the Colosseum?" "It is the same thing. in his turn interrupting his host's meditations. emitting a volume of smoke and balancing his chair on its hind legs. may I beg to know what it was?" "Ah." "Well." "What! do you not know him?" "I have not that honor." "You intend visiting Il Colosseo. Men in their senses do not quit their hotel in the Rue du Helder. "only madmen. "he may be very famous at Rome. this route is impossible. to say the least. compared to whom the Decesaris and the Gasparones were mere children." said Franz. it was evident that he was musing over this answer. You have told your coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo. you have ordered your carriage at eight o'clock precisely?" "I have. then." "Pray." "Impossible!" "Very dangerous.

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

" said Franz. tell me who is this Luigi Vampa. when Horace made that answer. "now that my companion is quieted. "Well." said Albert.bring him back to Rome." The inn-keeper turned to Franz with an air that seemed to say. Signor Pastrini. muttering some unintelligible words. as the only one likely to listen with attention. and you have seen how peaceful my intentions are. "Your excellency knows that it is not customary to defend yourself when attacked by bandits. but." asked Franz. as for us. and other deadly weapons with which you intend filling the carriage?" "Not out of my armory. lighting a second cigar at the first." "You could not apply to any one better able to inform you on all these ." "Do you know. What could you do against a dozen bandits who spring out of some pit. it is only to gratify a whim. "Your friend is decidedly mad.' of Corneille." "What!" cried Albert. and it would be ridiculous to risk our lives for so foolish a motive. for it would be useless." Albert poured himself out a glass of lacryma Christi. Signor Pastrini's face assumed an expression impossible to describe. and then he spoke to Franz. and level their pieces at you?" "Eh. and present him to his holiness the Pope." Whilst Albert proposed this scheme. or aqueduct. we may recognize him. and worthy the 'Let him die. "that this practice is very convenient for bandits. and we see the Carnival in the carriage. whose courage revolted at the idea of being plundered tamely. like Curtius and the veiled Horatius. like Bugaboo John or Lara. only. "not make any resistance!" "No." "I shared the same fate at Aquapendente. then we merely ask for a carriage and a pair of horses. blunderbusses. which he sipped at intervals. parbleu!--they should kill me. "your answer is sublime." Doubtless Signor Pastrini found this pleasantry compromising. the safety of Rome was concerned." "My dear Albert. ruin." returned Franz. and doubtless the Roman people will crown us at the Capitol. for at Terracina I was plundered even of my hunting-knife. who asks how he can repay so great a service. Signor Pastrini. Is he a shepherd or a nobleman?--young or old?--tall or short? Describe him. if we meet him by chance. the preservers of their country. in order that. "And pray. "where are these pistols. and proclaim us. for he only answered half the question. and that it seems to be due to an arrangement of their own.

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

he came to the curate of Palestrina. and entered the count's service when he was five years old. and that he must profit as much as possible by it. when young. At the end of three months he had learned to read. who owned a small flock. The priest had a writing teacher at Rome make three alphabets--one large. and a penknife. the little Luigi hastened to the smith at Palestrina. Vampa was twelve. but the good curate went every day to say mass at a little hamlet too poor to pay a priest and which. had commenced. the famous sculptor. astonished at his quickness and intelligence. and thus learn to write. warning him that it would be short. made him a present of pens. One day. she was an orphan. the little Vampa displayed a most extraordinary precocity. He applied his imitative powers to everything. The curate related the incident to the Count of San-Felice. promising to meet the next morning. but nothing compared to the first. houses. having no other name. The same evening. and conversed together. and lived by the wool and the milk. "A girl of six or seven--that is. his father was also a shepherd. at nine o'clock in the morning. it was thus that Pinelli. like Giotto. laughed. and asked to be taught to read. let their flocks mingle together. situated between Palestrina and the lake of Gabri. it was somewhat difficult. The child accepted joyfully. The two children met. The next day they kept their word. who sent for the little shepherd. Beside . he began to carve all sorts of objects in wood. and. Signor Pastrini. and the little shepherd took his lesson out of the priest's breviary. and formed a sort of stylus. every day. ordered his attendant to let him eat with the domestics. and to give him two piastres a month. The next morning he gathered an armful of pieces of slate and began. and pointed out to him that by the help of a sharp instrument he could trace the letters on a slate. This demanded new effort. Every day Luigi led his flock to graze on the road that leads from Palestrina to Borgo."Go on. he told Luigi that he might meet him on his return. in the evening they separated the Count of San-Felice's flock from those of Baron Cervetri. and trees. he was born at Pampinara. and Teresa eleven. when he was seven years old. The curate. And yet their natural disposition revealed itself. At the end of three months he had learned to write. he drew on his slate sheep. a little younger than Vampa--tended sheep on a farm near Palestrina. one middling. with his knife. for he could not quit his flock. was called Borgo. the priest and the boy sat down on a bank by the wayside. When quite a child. "To what class of society does he belong?" "He was a shepherd-boy attached to the farm of the Count of San-Felice." continued Franz. and one small. With this. and the children returned to their respective farms. born at Valmontone and was named Teresa. sat down near each other. Luigi purchased books and pencils. paper. and that then he would give him a lesson. made him read and write before him. smiling at his friend's susceptibility. at the end of a week he wrote as well with this pen as with the stylus. and thus they grew up together. Then. took a large nail. which he sold at Rome. when the flock was safe at the farm. heated and sharpened it. played. This was not enough--he must now learn to write.

this impetuous character. Thus. This. in all their dreams. was nothing to a sculptor like Vampa. necklaces. Teresa was the most beautiful and the best-attired peasant near Rome. and their conversations. Vampa saw himself the captain of a vessel. Teresa saw herself rich. His disposition (always inclined to exact concessions rather than to make them) kept him aloof from all friendships. he was given to alternating fits of sadness and enthusiasm. "One evening a wolf emerged from a pine-wood hear which they were . and the price of all the little carvings in wood he sold at Rome. which Luigi had carried as far as he could in his solitude. Teresa alone ruled by a look. and carrying a ball with the precision of an English rifle. In every country where independence has taken the place of liberty. he examined the broken stock. but could never have been bended. that Teresa overcame the terror she at first felt at the report. superbly attired. calculated what change it would require to adapt the gun to his shoulder. or Valmontone had been able to gain any influence over him or even to become his companion. that grew on the Sabine mountains. and descended from the elevation of their dreams to the reality of their humble position. often makes him feared. and had then cast the gun aside. and giving themselves up to the wild ideas of their different characters. was often angry and capricious. From this moment Vampa devoted all his leisure time to perfecting himself in the use of his precious weapon. and made a fresh stock. but coquettish to excess. the eagle that soared above their heads: and thus he soon became so expert. but one day the count broke the stock. a gesture. and gold hairpins. their wishes. however. For a long time a gun had been the young man's greatest ambition. as he quitted his earth on some marauding excursion. So that. so beautifully carved that it would have fetched fifteen or twenty piastres. and amused herself by watching him direct the ball wherever he pleased. This gun had an excellent barrel. The steward gave him a gun. this was what Vampa longed for. But nothing could be farther from his thoughts. The two piastres that Luigi received every month from the Count of San-Felice's steward. which yielded beneath the hand of a woman. and always sarcastic. the fox. by rendering its owner terrible. thanks to her friend's generosity. had he chosen to sell it. when they had thus passed the day in building castles in the air. and prowl around his flock. The two children grew up together. he purchased powder and ball. they separated their flocks. and everything served him for a mark--the trunk of some old and moss-grown olivetree. Teresa was lively and gay. and. with as much accuracy as if he placed it by hand. which at once renders him capable of defence or attack. and which beneath the hand of a man might have broken. None of the lads of Pampinara.his taste for the fine arts. made at Breschia. general of an army. a word. or governor of a province. passing all their time with each other. the first desire of a manly heart is to possess a weapon. Then. were expended in ear-rings. and attended by a train of liveried domestics. Palestrina. "One day the young shepherd told the count's steward that he had seen a wolf come out of the Sabine mountains.

had crossed the Garigliano. He strove to collect a band of followers. whom he hoped to surpass. but when a chief presents himself he rarely has to wait long for a band of followers. pursued in the Abruzzo. like Manfred. . he hoped the chief would have pity on him. for he but too well knew the fate that awaited her. but it was soon known that they had joined Cucumetto. but the wolf had scarcely advanced ten yards ere he was dead. and the most courageous contadino for ten leagues around. However. a messenger is sent to negotiate. the strongest. and as he had saved his life by shooting a dragoon who was about to cut him down. then the rest draw lots for her. whose branches intertwined. When she recognized her lover. Vampa took the dead animal on his shoulders. After some time Cucumetto became the object of universal attention. and she is abandoned to their brutality until death relieves her sufferings. Their disappearance at first caused much disquietude. Frascati. and they would have preferred death to a day's separation. The bandit's laws are positive. "The celebrated Cucumetto. And yet the two young people had never declared their affection. and believed herself safe. seated at the foot of a huge pine that stood in the centre of the forest. About this time. and Vampa seventeen. He took Cucumetto one side. The young girl's lover was in Cucumetto's troop. while the young girl. as he was a favorite with Cucumetto. Teresa was sixteen. but Carlini felt his heart sink. they had grown together like two trees whose roots are mingled. and followed the footsteps of Decesaris and Gasperone. Sometimes a chief is wanted. The brigands have never been really extirpated from the neighborhood of Rome. and Pampinara had disappeared. as he had for three years faithfully served him. Many young men of Palestrina. since he had been near. go where he will. Proud of this exploit. He was spoken of as the most adroit. a young girl belongs first to him who carries her off. and had taken refuge on the banks of the Amasine between Sonnino and Juperno. When their parents are sufficiently rich to pay a ransom. the prisoner is irrevocably lost. no one had ever spoken to her of love. should the ransom be refused. the poor girl extended her arms to him. and how every night. and although Teresa was universally allowed to be the most beautiful girl of the Sabines. the prisoner is hostage for the security of the messenger. his name was Carlini. There he told the chief all--his affection for the prisoner. the daughter of a surveyor of Frosinone. they had met in some neighboring ruins.usually stationed. These exploits had gained Luigi considerable reputation. One day he carried off a young girl. driven out of the kingdom of Naples. Only their wish to see each other had become a necessity. their promises of mutual fidelity. and whose intermingled perfume rises to the heavens. the most extraordinary traits of ferocious daring and brutality were related of him. because it was known that she was beloved by Vampa. where he had carried on a regular war. made a veil of her picturesque head-dress to hide her face from the lascivious gaze of the bandits. and carried him to the farm. a band of brigands that had established itself in the Lepini mountains began to be much spoken of. The man of superior abilities always finds admirers.

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

extending from the temple to the mouth. Then every one could understand the cause of the unearthly pallor in the young girl and the bandit.' Carlini's teeth clinched convulsively. burst into a loud laugh. Carlini!' cried the brigands. the bandits could perceive. As they entered the circle. propose mine to him. 'Captain. laughing. but to their great surprise. the unearthly pallor of the young girl and of Diavolaccio. and he drank it off.' "Cucumetto departed. 'Let us draw lots! let us draw lots!' cried all the brigands. including Carlini. when they saw the chief. he took a glass in one hand and a flask in the other.'--'Well done. A large wound. he feared lest he should strike him unawares. and the youngest of the band drew forth a ticket. and ate and drank calmly. but this mattered little to him now Rita had been his.' said he. and her long hair swept the ground. his arms folded. Every one looked at Carlini. He was the man who had proposed to Carlini the health of their chief. He was standing. were placed in a hat. They turned round. 'sooner or later your turn will come. that every one rose. and the chief inclined his head in sign of acquiescence. and saw Diavolaccio bearing the young girl in his arms.--'Your health. Diovalaccio. He continued to follow the path to the glade. . without his hand trembling in the least. the ticket bore the name of Diovolaccio. Her head hung back. near Rita. three hundred piastres distributed among the band was so small a sum that he cared little about it. Carlini ate and drank as if nothing had happened. was bleeding profusely. The names of all. and the red light of the fire made them look like demons. and laid Rita at the captain's feet. 'my expedition has given me an appetite. seeing himself thus favored by fortune. advancing towards the other bandits. without losing sight of Carlini. A knife was plunged up to the hilt in Rita's left breast. Then sitting down by the fire.' continued Cucumetto. Cucumetto fancied for a moment the young man was about to take her in his arms and fly. 'My supper.' said he calmly. who remained seated. who was still insensible. then. doubtless. for. and let us see if he will be more condescending to you than to me. 'that is acting like a good fellow. and as for the money. "Their demand was fair.' said Cucumetto. and filling it. Diavolaccio. with the exception of Carlini. 'are you coming?'--'I follow you. but nothing betrayed a hostile design on Carlini's part.'--'But never mind. but. Carlini arrived almost as soon as himself.' and they all formed a circle round the fire.exception?'--'It is true. while Diavolaccio disappeared. and to whom Carlini replied by breaking the glass across his face. This apparition was so strange and so solemn.' said he. by the firelight. "'Now. to his great surprise.' Every one expected an explosion on Carlini's part. 'just now Carlini would not drink your health when I proposed it to him. The bandits looked on with astonishment at this singular conduct until they heard footsteps. The eyes of all shone fiercely as they made their demand. Diavolaccio advanced amidst the most profound silence.

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

every one trembles at the name of Cucumetto. near which the two young persons used to graze their flocks. 'That is very annoying. which had been already sought and obtained. One day when they were talking over their plans for the future. each more singular than the other. without knowing what had become of Rita's father. 'I am pursued. that. made a sign to the fugitive to take refuge there. They told ten other stories of this bandit chief. he exclaimed. Vampa. Time passed on. The young girl trembled very much at hearing the stories. which threw its ball so well. "'Yes. On the morning of the departure from the forest of Frosinone he had followed Carlini in the darkness.' replied the brigadier. and the bird fell dead at the foot of the tree. took aim. and. and galloping up. They had seen no one. on horseback. from Fondi to Perusia. There was some surprise. appeared on the edge of the wood. and then suddenly a man came out of the wood. and had only their employers' leave to ask. he should have received a ball between his shoulders. saw the young peasants. without saying a word. for two days afterwards. closed the stone upon him. he pointed to a crow. folded himself in his cloak. 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.'--'Cucumetto?' cried Luigi and Teresa at the same moment. The three carbineers looked about carefully on every side. hastened to the stone that closed up the entrance to their grotto. and gave the word to march. rejoined his comrades. When he came within hearing. anticipated it. in a retreat unknown to every one.' said the brigadier. and if that did not restore her courage. He found the old man suspended from one of the branches of the oak which shaded his daughter's grave. but Vampa reassured her with a smile. But Carlini would not quit the forest. But he was unable to complete this oath. He went toward the place where he had left him. 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 as his head is valued at a thousand . while the fourth dragged a brigand prisoner by the neck. Carlini was killed. like a wise man. and the two young people had agreed to be married when Vampa should be twenty and Teresa nineteen years of age. drew it away. in an encounter with the Roman carbineers. Cucumetto aroused his men. tapping the butt of his good fowling-piece. and then went and resumed his seat by Teresa. "These narratives were frequently the theme of conversation between Luigi and Teresa. can you conceal me?' They knew full well that this fugitive must be a bandit. began to question them. they heard two or three reports of firearms. Thus. for the man we are looking for is the chief. An hour before daybreak.obeyed. and hurried towards them. He then took an oath of bitter vengeance over the dead body of the one and the tomb of the other. They were both orphans. three of them appeared to be looking for the fugitive. however. It had been resolved the night before to change their encampment. as he was with his face to the enemy. touched the trigger. Instantly afterwards four carbineers. and heard this oath of vengeance. and soon appeared to sleep as soundly as the rest. perched on some dead branch.

and Teresa was as handsome as Carmela. 'but we have not seen him. and Cucumetto came out. On the evening of the ball Teresa was attired in her best. her bodice and skirt were of cashmere. and tables spread with refreshments. But Vampa raised his head proudly. the one as a woman of Nettuno. Luigi wore the very picturesque garb of the Roman peasant at holiday time. then. as they had leave to do. the pins in her hair were of gold and diamonds. and he drew from his pocket a purse full of gold. Carmela was attired like a woman of Sonnino. after a time. which he offered to them. with large embroidered flowers. but in vain. not only was the villa brilliantly illuminated. and the terraces to the garden-walks. Two of her companions were dressed. The time of the Carnival was at hand.' "Then the carbineers scoured the country in different directions. and gayest glass beads. "'Yes. her apron of Indian muslin. Four young men .' said Vampa. Five hundred Roman crowns are three thousand lire. pausing several times on his way. her most brilliant ornaments in her hair. whom he adored. and the buttons of her corset were of jewels. the steward.--she was in the costume of the women of Frascati. The ball was given by the Count for the particular pleasure of his daughter Carmela. Her cap was embroidered with pearls. Through the crevices in the granite he had seen the two young peasants talking with the carbineers. under the pretext of saluting his protectors. Carmela was precisely the age and figure of Teresa. At each cross-path was an orchestra. Vampa then removed the stone. This was granted. and this look from Teresa showed to him that she was a worthy daughter of Eve. The Count of San-Felice announced a grand masked ball. They both mingled. He had read in the countenances of Luigi and Teresa their steadfast resolution not to surrender him. if you had helped us to catch him. Several days elapsed. Luigi asked permission of his protector. the guests stopped. and guessed the subject of their parley. and they neither saw nor heard of Cucumetto. and very soon the palace overflowed to the terraces. "The festa was magnificent. her girdle was of Turkey silk. and danced in any part of the grounds they pleased. and he returned to the forest. with the servants and peasants. The brigadier had a moment's hope.Roman crowns. formed quadrilles. but thousands of colored lanterns were suspended from the trees in the garden. her eyes sparkled when she thought of all the fine gowns and gay jewellery she could buy with this purse of gold. it is very annoying. "Cucumetto was a cunning fiend. to which all that were distinguished in Rome were invited. there would have been five hundred for you. and the other as a woman of La Riccia. and had assumed the form of a brigand instead of a serpent. and three thousand lire are a fortune for two poor orphans who are going to be married. they disappeared. Teresa had a great desire to see this ball. as to Teresa.' The two young persons exchanged looks. that she and he might be present amongst the servants of the house.

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

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

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

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

--a shepherdess watching her flock. Fortunately. his knees bent under him. and then fired. Vampa then rushed towards Teresa. From the day on which the bandit had been saved by the two young peasants. He would. and he fell with Teresa in his arms. his costume was no less elegant than that of Teresa. He had just expired. and it was fright alone that had overcome Teresa. Three cries for help came more distinctly to his ear. and she had dropped on her knees. emeralds. as if his feet had been rooted to the ground. carried Dejanira. dared not approach the slain ruffian but by degrees. good! You are dressed. when the ball. At the end of a quarter of an hour Vampa quitted the grotto. had pierced his heart. it is now my turn to dress myself. His eyes remained open and menacing. while in her turn Teresa remained outside. as Nessus. had also wounded his betrothed. and profiting by the moment when her lover had left her alone. that he had met an Alpine shepherdess seated at the foot of the Sabine Hill. and rubies. he turned towards the wounded man. Vampa approached the corpse. cocking his carbine as he went. he would have seen a strange thing. Vampa gazed on him for a moment without betraying the slightest emotion. Vampa measured the distance.' said he--'good. He cast his eyes around him and saw a man carrying off Teresa. the man was at least two hundred paces in advance of him. The young shepherd stopped. with clinched hands. and recognized Cucumetto. The ravisher stopped suddenly. she was unscathed. This man. while. who was hastening towards the wood. and would have declared. followed him for a second in his track.' "Teresa was clothed from head to foot in the garb of the Count of San-Felice's daughter. no doubt. When Luigi had assured himself that she was safe and unharmed. The young girl rose instantly. From that time he had watched them. A moment afterwards he thought he heard his own name pronounced distinctly. so that the young man feared that the ball that had brought down his enemy. was already three-quarters of the way on the road from the grotto to the forest. Suddenly Vampa turned toward his mistress:--'Ah. and buttons of sapphires. with buttons of cut gold. with ear-rings and necklace of pearls. He bounded like a chamois. took aim at the ravisher. The cry proceeded from the grotto. for at ten paces from the dying man her legs had failed her. and threw a hesitating glance at the dead body over the shoulder of her lover. have believed that he had returned to the times of Florian. on reaching Paris. on the contrary. directed by the unerring skill of the young herdsman. diamond pins. had carried her off. and believed he at length had her in his power. and there was not a chance of overtaking him. and had sworn she should be his. he had been enamoured of Teresa. then he put the butt of his carbine to his shoulder. He wore a vest of garnet-colored velvet. his mouth in a spasm of agony. and in a moment reached the summit of a hill opposite to that on which he had perceived the traveller. shuddering in every limb. the centaur. but the man lay on the earth struggling in the agonies of death. clad in a cashmere grown.whence this sound could proceed. Vampa took Cucumetto's body in his arms and conveyed it to the grotto. Teresa. and his hair on end in the sweat of death. If a second traveller had passed. a silk .

At the end of this time they had reached the thickest of the forest. Suddenly. or Schnetz.'--'What. The two young persons obeyed. Then the bandit thrice imitated the cry of a crow. 'or. raising his hand with a gesture of disdain. We need scarcely say that all the paths of the mountain were known to Vampa. clung closely to him. but he knew his path by looking at the trees and bushes.'--The young girl did so without questioning her lover as to where he was conducting her.waistcoat covered with embroidery.' said the sentinel. no longer able to restrain her alarm.'--'Then take my arm.'--Luigi and Teresa again set forward. while Teresa. then. whatever it may be?'--'Oh. 'you may now go on. yes!' exclaimed the young girl enthusiastically. whose bed was dry. and powerful as a god. 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. A torrent. proud. and thus they kept on advancing for nearly an hour and a half. and a hat whereon hung ribbons of all colors. At the end of ten minutes the bandit made them a sign to stop. and all at once found themselves in the presence of twenty bandits. The retreat of Rocca Bianca was at the top of a small mountain. and continued to advance with the same firm and easy step as before. a man advanced from behind a tree and aimed at Vampa. 'are you ready to share my fortune. They went towards the forest. and pressed closely against her guide. two watches hung from his girdle. we have no time to lose. shepherd of the San-Felice farm. garters of deerskin. and let us on. seemed.'--'Follow me. Vampa in this attire resembled a painting by Leopold Robert. led into a deep gorge.' said Vampa. a cartridge-box worked with gold. Teresa uttered a cry of admiration. and shadowed by the tufted umbrage of the pines.'--Vampa smiled disdainfully at this precaution on the part of the bandit. enclosed between two ridges. but for the difficulties of its descent.--'Now. and red and green silk. a Roman scarf tied round his neck. 'Here is a young man who seeks and wishes . about ten paces from them. not uttering a syllable.' he said to Teresa. went before Teresa. that path to Avernus of which Virgil speaks. he therefore went forward without a moment's hesitation. The young man saw the effect produced on his betrothed. sky-blue velvet breeches. 'do wolves rend each other?'--'Who are you?' inquired the sentinel. for he appeared to her at this moment as handsome. Vampa took this wild road. as you know your way. Teresa and Luigi reached the summit.'--'What do you want?'--'I would speak with your companions who are in the glade at Rocca Bianca. then. He had assumed the entire costume of Cucumetto. although there was no beaten track.--'I am Luigi Vampa.--'Good!' said the sentry.--'And follow me wherever I go?'--'To the world's end. she endeavored to repress her emotion. Teresa had become alarmed at the wild and deserted look of the plain around her. as they went on Teresa clung tremblingly to her lover at the sight of weapons and the glistening of carbines through the trees. worked with a thousand arabesques. and a smile of pride passed over his lips. but as she saw him advance with even step and composed countenance. a croak answered this signal. 'or you are a dead man. and soon entered it. fastened above the knee with diamond buckles.--'Not another step. go first. which.' he said. and a splendid poniard was in his belt.

and when they hunt for him there. At the sixtieth minute of this hour. he blows out the prisoner's brains with a pistol-shot. you see." "Well. who had recognized Luigi Vampa. the fishermen of the Tiber. my dear landlord. and when that time has elapsed he allows another hour's grace. and that settles the account. 'And what have you done to aspire to this honor?' demanded the lieutenant." "Then the police have vainly tried to lay hands on him?" "Why. or plants his dagger in his heart. whether he gives eight hours." .' said the young man. and he is on the waters. turning towards his friend. Tivoli. The bandits shouted with laughter.--'What has he to say?' inquired the young man who was in command in the chief's absence." said Franz." "And what may a myth be?" inquired Pastrini.--'Yes." replied Albert. 'and you seek admittance into our ranks?'--'Welcome!' cried several bandits from Ferrusino. "and never had an existence. or Monte Cristo. or La Riccia." replied Franz. they follow him on the waters.--'I come to ask to be your captain." "And how does he behave towards travellers?" "Alas! his plan is very simple. then they pursue him. if the money is not forthcoming.' said the lieutenant. and Anagni. and the smugglers of the coast. whose dress I now wear.--'Ah. Pampinara. and he is on the open sea. and he has suddenly taken refuge in the islands. I understand.' said the sentinel.' An hour afterwards Luigi Vampa was chosen captain. It depends on the distance he may be from the city. vice Cucumetto deceased.--'I wish to say that I am tired of a shepherd's life. They seek for him in the mountains. Guanouti. and I set fire to the villa San-Felice to procure a wedding-dress for my betrothed. he has a good understanding with the shepherds in the plains. at Giglio. "what think you of citizen Luigi Vampa?" "I say he is a myth.to speak to you.'--'And what may that be?' inquired the bandits with astonishment.--'I have killed your chief. my dear Albert. he reappears suddenly at Albano. twelve hours. or a day wherein to pay their ransom.' was Vampa's reply. but I came to ask something more than to be your companion. "And you say that Signor Vampa exercises his profession at this moment in the environs of Rome?" "And with a boldness of which no bandit before him ever gave an example. "The explanation would be too long. Cucumetto.

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

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

and immediately opposite a large aperture. and then again disappeared down the steps conducting to the seats reserved for the Vestal virgins. thrown over his left shoulder. that rendered it impossible to distinguish his features. like Franz. There was nothing remarkable in the circumstance of a fragment of granite giving way and falling heavily below. resembling. About ten feet from the spot where he and the stranger were. grew a quantity of creeping plants. like so many waving strings. He wore a large brown mantle. through which might be seen the blue vault of heaven. served likewise to mask the lower part of his countenance. one fold of which. which had. and from whence his eyes followed the motions of Albert and his guides. Around this opening. which permitted him to enjoy a full and undisturbed view of the gigantic dimensions of the majestic ruin. 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. some restless shades following the flickering glare of so many ignes-fatui. holding torches in their hands. entering through the broken ceiling. was approaching the spot where he sat. Franz withdrew as much as possible behind his pillar. but the hesitation with which he proceeded. and also that some one. 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. for the figure of a man was distinctly visible to Franz. as they glided along. The stranger thus presenting himself was probably a person who. The lower part of his dress was more distinctly visible by the bright rays of the moon. By a sort of instinctive impulse. leaving them to follow their monotonous round. leaving a large round opening. thickly studded with stars. upon which the moon was at that moment pouring a full tide of silvery brightness. And his appearance had nothing extraordinary in it. preferred the enjoyment of solitude and his own thoughts to the frivolous gabble of the guides.half-dilapidated staircase. over which descended fashionably cut trousers of black cloth. . for ages permitted a free entrance to the brilliant moonbeams that now illumined the vast pile. and hung floating to and fro. the roof had given way. while the upper part was completely hidden by his broad-brimmed hat. who endeavored as much as possible to prevent his footsteps from being heard. shed their refulgent beams on feet cased in elegantly made boots of polished leather. seated himself at the foot of a column. who. The person whose mysterious arrival had attracted the attention of Franz stood in a kind of half-light. and. had emerged from a vomitarium at the opposite extremity of the Colosseum. but it seemed to him that the substance that fell gave way beneath the pressure of a foot. while large masses of thick. stopping and listening with anxious attention at every step he took. Conjecture soon became certainty. strong fibrous shoots forced their way through the chasm. convinced Franz that he expected the arrival of some person. gradually emerging from the staircase opposite. which. whose delicate green branches stood out in bold relief against the clear azure of the firmament. although his dress was easily made out. possibly.

and the figure of a man was clearly seen gazing with eager scrutiny on the immense space beneath him." replied the stranger in purest Tuscan. when a slight noise was heard outside the aperture in the roof. and deserves not the smallest pity." "Indeed! You are a provident person. The other sufferer is sentenced to be decapitato." "Briefly." said the man. and the stranger began to show manifest signs of impatience." "Your excellency is perfectly right in so thinking. what did you glean?" "That two executions of considerable interest will take place the day after to-morrow at two o'clock. . "I came here direct from the Castle of St. Beppo is employed in the prison. But even if you had caused me to wait a little while. in the Roman dialect. your excellency. "but I don't think I'm many minutes after my time. then. as his eye caught sight of him in the mantle. as is customary at Rome at the commencement of all great festivals." "Say not a word about being late. he could only come to one conclusion." "And who is Beppo?" "Oh. you see. Perhaps some of these days I may be entrapped. [*] he is an atrocious villain. and I give him so much a year to let me know what is going on within his holiness's castle. and then leaped lightly on his feet." * Knocked on the head. I see. he grasped a floating mass of thickly matted boughs. Angelo. and I had an immense deal of trouble before I could get a chance to speak to Beppo. who murdered the priest who brought him up. [**] and he. I should have felt quite sure that the delay was not occasioned by any fault of yours. no one knows what may happen." said the man. ten o'clock has just struck on the Lateran." "Why. and glided down by their help to within three or four feet of the ground. "I beg your excellency's pardon for keeping you waiting. like poor Peppino and may be very glad to have some little nibbling mouse to gnaw the meshes of my net. Some few minutes had elapsed. The man who had performed this daring act with so much indifference wore the Transtevere costume. One of the culprits will be mazzolato. is poor Peppino.--that the person whom he was thus watching certainly belonged to no inferior station of life.From the imperfect means Franz had of judging. and almost immediately a dark shadow seemed to obstruct the flood of light that had entered it. "'tis I who am too soon. and so help me out of prison.

he is simply sentenced to be guillotined." "Which makes him your accomplice to all intents and purposes. "excuse me for saying that you seem to me precisely in the mood to commit some wild or extravagant act. that you have inspired not only the pontifical government. drive back the guard. suddenly expressing himself in French. but one thing I have resolved on. another skilfully placed 1." said the man in the cloak. too." "My good friend. by which means. whose only crime consisted in furnishing us with provisions.000 piastres. and that is. and there is a spectacle to please every spectator. and convinces me that my scheme is far better than yours. by the assistance of their stilettos.** Beheaded. the amusements of the day are diversified." "Perhaps I am. "The fact is. But mark the distinction with which he is treated. that the person receiving them shall obtain a respite till next year for Peppino. . instead of being knocked on the head as you would be if once they caught hold of you." "And do you feel sure of succeeding?" "Pardieu!" exclaimed the man in the cloak." "Without reckoning the wholly unexpected one I am preparing to surprise them with. but also the neighboring states." "And what do you mean to do?" "To surround the scaffold with twenty of my best men. I should hate and despise myself as a coward did I desert the brave fellow in his present extremity. who. and during that year. will rush forward directly Peppino is brought for execution." "But Peppino did not even belong to my band: he was merely a poor shepherd. that they are glad of all opportunity of making an example. and." "And what is your excellency's project?" "Just this. and carry off the prisoner. I will so advantageously bestow 2. with such extreme fear.000 piastres will afford him the means of escaping from his prison." "That seems to me as hazardous as uncertain. who has got into this scrape solely from having served me. at a signal from me. to stop at nothing to restore a poor devil to liberty.

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

and descended to the arena by an outward flight of steps. if you obtain the reprieve?" "The middle window at the Cafe Rospoli will be hung with white damask. my good friend. those guides are nothing but spies. and I further promise you to be there as a spectator of your prowess. after the manner of Pliny and Calpurnius. the Transteverin disappeared down the staircase. passed almost close to Franz. Franz. muffling his features more closely than before in the folds of his mantle." Saying these words. and might possibly recognize you. in fact. did not hear what ." "'Twere better we should not be seen together. may require your aid and influence. Franz let him proceed without interruption. and if from the other end of the world you but write me word to do such or such a thing. Adieu. and. The next minute Franz heard himself called by Albert. touching the iron-pointed nets used to prevent the ferocious beasts from springing on the spectators. then. your excellency will find me what I have found you in this my heavy trouble." "And if you fail?" "Then all three windows will have yellow draperies. however. my good fellow." "Well. in my turn. on the word and faith of"-"Hush!" interrupted the stranger. I am sadly afraid both my reputation and credit would suffer thereby. my worthy friend." "'Tis some travellers. when I. for I may remind you of your promise at some. for done it shall be." "And then?" "And then. then. Franz was on the road to the Piazza de Spagni."Have a care how far you pledge yourself. if once the extent of our intimacy were known. In ten minutes after the strangers had departed. "I hear a noise. while his companion. who made the lofty building re-echo with the sound of his friend's name. however I may be honored by your friendship. bearing a red cross." "Let that day come sooner or later. depend upon me as firmly as I do upon you. use your daggers in any way you please. 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. perhaps. not very distant period. who are visiting the Colosseum by torchlight. you may regard it as done." "We understand each other perfectly. listening with studied indifference to the learned dissertation delivered by Albert. and. your excellency.

In vain did Franz endeavor to forget the many perplexing thoughts which assailed him. but fully promising himself a rich indemnity for his present forbearance should chance afford him another opportunity. Franz would have found it impossible to resist his extreme curiosity to know more of so singular a personage. 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. judge that his appearance at such a time would be anything but agreeable. but in the present instance. It was more especially when this man was speaking in a manner half jesting. the more entire was his conviction. he fell asleep at daybreak. delighted with his day's work.was said. whose mysterious meeting in the Colosseum he had so unintentionally witnessed." supported by three of the most renowned vocalists of . having a number of letters to write. he had seen (as he called it) all the remarkable sights at Rome. and the more he thought. The opera of "Parisina" was announced for representation. Yes. and La Specchia. Moriani. and free to ponder over all that had occurred. "Sinbad the Sailor. and with that intent have sought to renew their short acquaintance. in a single day he had accomplished what his more serious-minded companion would have taken weeks to effect. Worn out at length. that the person who wore the mantle was no other than his former host and entertainer. he had sent to engage a box at the Teatro Argentino. And the more he thought. relinquished the carriage to Albert for the whole of the day. he had been occupied in leaving his letters of introduction. and the principal actors were Coselli. yet well-pitched voice that had addressed him in the grotto of Monte Cristo. he longed to be alone. from his being either wrapped in his mantle or obscured by the shadow. As we have seen. with propriety. the firmer grew his opinion on the subject. and which he heard for the second time amid the darkness and ruined grandeur of the Colosseum. the confidential nature of the conversation he had overheard made him." Under any other circumstances. and also what performers appeared in it. 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. had reason to consider themselves fortunate in having the opportunity of hearing one of the best works by the composer of "Lucia di Lammermoor. therefore. Like a genuine Frenchman. that Franz's ear recalled most vividly the deep sonorous. One of the two men. and did not awake till late. The young men. and Franz. hear them when or where he might. and though Franz had been unable to distinguish his features. he permitted his former host to retire without attempting a recognition. Albert had employed his time in arranging for the evening's diversion. in vain did he court the refreshment of sleep. Neither had he neglected to ascertain the name of the piece to be played that night at the Teatro Argentino. but not so the other. was an entire stranger to him. therefore. At five o'clock Albert returned. and had received in return more invitations to balls and routs than it would be possible for him to accept. besides this. half bitter.

as. Still. Alas. well-looking young man. and claims to notice. and all he gained was the painful conviction that the ladies of Italy have this advantage over those of France. Albert. knowing full well that among the different states and kingdoms in which this festivity is celebrated. according to the characteristic modesty of a Frenchman. a more than sufficient sum to render him a personage of considerable importance in Paris. however. and thought not of changing even for the splendid appearance of Albert de Morcerf. hoped to indemnify himself for all these slights and indifferences during the Carnival. 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. and a genealogical tree is equally estimated. to think that Albert de Morcerf. and deign to mingle in the follies of this time of liberty and relaxation. Albert displayed his most dazzling and effective costumes each time he visited the theatres.Italy. alas. his elegant toilet was wholly thrown away. and his self-love immensely piqued. and Neapolitans were all faithful.000 livres. certainly. with their orchestras from which it is impossible to see. but internally he was deeply wounded. and had shared a lower box at the Opera. the most admired and most sought after of any young person of his day. With this design he had engaged a the theatre. and that upon his return he should astonish the Parisian world with the recital of his numerous love-affairs. as elsewhere. Sometimes Albert would affect to make a joke of his want of success. therefore Albert had not the programme of his hopes. and the absence of balconies. The Carnival was to commence on the an instant to lose in setting forth expectations. but to crown all these advantages. at least to their lovers. should thus be passed over. in spite of this. all these defects pressed hard on a man who had had his stall at the Bouffes. but. Florentines. poor Albert! none of those interesting adventures fell in his way. but in the present day it is not necessary to go as far back as Noah in tracing a descent. if not to their husbands. and exerted himself by the aid of the most rich and . there might be an exception to the general rule. Albert. that they are faithful even in their infidelity. 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. Yet he could not restrain a hope that in Italy. or open boxes. And the thing was so much the more annoying. Albert had never been able to endure the Italian theatres. and merely have his labor for his pains. was also possessed of considerable talent and ability. he was a viscount--a recently created one. whether dated from 1399 or merely 1815. Albert de Morcerf commanded an income of 50. moreover. besides being an elegant. Albert had quitted Paris with the full conviction that he had only to show himself in Italy to carry all before him. the lovely Genoese. Rome is the spot where even the wisest and gravest throw off the usual rigidity of their lives. box in the most conspicuous part of to set off his personal attractions morrow.

and an introduction might ensue that would procure him the offer of a seat in a carriage. were all so much engrossed with themselves. although each of the three tiers of boxes is deemed equally aristocratic. but. for this reason. "Do you know the woman who has just entered that box?" "Yes.--who knew but that. the spectators would suddenly cease their conversation. the door of a box which had been hitherto vacant was opened." . generally styled the "nobility's boxes. their lovers. he said hastily. and is. Another motive had influenced Albert's selection of his seat. he might not in truth attract the notice of some fair Roman. The actors made their entries and exits unobserved or unthought of. turning to him.elaborate toilet. thus advantageously placed. The box taken by Albert was in the first circle. aided by a powerful opera-glass. that they had not so much as noticed him or the manipulation of his glass. it had cost less than would be paid at some of the French theatres for one admitting merely four occupants. into whose good graces he was desirous of stealing. Totally disregarding the business of the stage." "And her name is--" "Countess G----. a well-executed recitative by Coselli. so filled every fair breast. as to prevent the least attention being bestowed even on the business of the stage. or their own thoughts. at certain conventional moments. a lady entered to whom Franz had been introduced in Paris. or a place in a princely balcony. 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. she is perfectly lovely--what a complexion! And such magnificent hair! Is she French?" "No. alas. and it was but too apparent that the lovely creatures. or rouse themselves from their musings. that the anticipated pleasures of the Carnival. he leaned from his box and began attentively scrutinizing the beauty of each pretty woman. to listen to some brilliant effort of Moriani's. a Venetian. The truth was. Towards the close of the first act. with the "holy week" that was to succeed it. he had imagined she still was. and. The quick eye of Albert caught the involuntary start with which his friend beheld the new arrival. what do you think of her?" "Oh. they quickly relapsed into their former state of preoccupation or interesting conversation." and although the box engaged for the two friends was sufficiently capacious to contain at least a dozen persons. but that momentary excitement over. where indeed. or to join in loud applause at the wonderful powers of La Specchia. this attempt to attract notice wholly failed. not even curiosity had been excited.

are you really on such good terms with her as to venture to take me to her box?" "Why." continued Franz gravely. "My dear fellow. as we did last night. "And in what manner has this congeniality of mind been evinced?" "By the countess's visiting the Colosseum. by moonlight." . we talked of the illustrious dead of whom that magnificent ruin is a glorious monument!" "Upon my word. and graciously waved her hand to him. "you must have been a very entertaining companion alone. I was to have been presented to her when I met her at Madame Villefort's ball. believe me. but you know that even such an acquaintance as that might warrant my doing what you ask." At that instant. "you seem to be on excellent terms with the beautiful countess. "she is said to possess as much wit and cleverness as beauty." "You were with her. indeed. the living should be my theme. and nearly alone.--I mean that of judging the habits and customs of Italy and Spain by our Parisian notions. "but you merely fall into the same error which leads so many of our countrymen to commit the most egregious blunders. "Upon my word. or all but alone."Ah." cried Albert. the countess perceived Franz." "You are mistaken in thinking so. then?" "I was." "Shall I assist you in repairing your negligence?" asked Franz." "Is there. I have only had the honor of being in her society and conversing with her three or four times in my life. I know her by name!" exclaimed Albert." "And what did you say to her?" "Oh." said Albert. and yet to find nothing better a talk about than the dead! All I can say is. there is a similarity of feeling at this instant between ourselves and the countess--nothing more. with a beautiful woman in such a place of sentiment as the Colosseum. to which he replied by a respectful inclination of the head. if ever I should get such a chance. is it sympathy of heart?" "No. my good fellow? Pray tell me." returned Franz calmly. 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. of taste.

and to arrange the lappets of his coat." "At least." "But. Franz presented Albert as one of the most distinguished young men of the day. This important task was just completed as they arrived at the countess's box. when one has been accustomed to Malibran and Sontag. "never mind the past. At the knock. and received from her a gracious smile in token that he would be welcome. who. while Albert continued to point his glass at every box in the theatre. "you seem determined not to approve. arranged his cravat and wristbands. you are really too difficult to please." "I never fancied men of his dark." "What a confounded time this first act takes. but began at once the tour of the house. you must admire Moriani's style and execution. the door was immediately opened. that they never mean to finish it." The curtain at length fell on the performances. who seized his hat. my dear fellow. sought not to retard the gratification of Albert's eager impatience. Franz. then." "My good friend. you know. I believe. such singers as these don't make the same impression on you they perhaps do on others. and the young man who was seated beside the countess. breaking in upon his discourse. rapidly passed his fingers through his hair." "Well. only listen to that charming finale. How exquisitely Coselli sings his part. yes. instantly rose and surrendered his place to the strangers. ponderous appearance singing with a voice like a woman's." "But what an awkward. in obedience to the Italian custom. would be expected to retire upon the arrival of other visitors. to the infinite satisfaction of the Viscount of Morcerf. Are you not going to keep your promise of introducing me to the fair subject of our remarks?" "Certainly. turning to him. inelegant fellow he is. who had mutely interrogated the countess. let us only remember the present." said Franz. both as regarded his position in society and extraordinary talents. on my soul. closely followed by Albert." said Albert. directly the curtain falls on the stage." "Oh. what do you say to La Specchia? Did you ever see anything more perfect than her acting?" "Why. they will. who availed himself of the few minutes required to reach the opposite side of the theatre to settle the height and smoothness of his collar."And you will probably find your theme ill-chosen. in turn. and signified to Franz that he was waiting for him to lead the way. .

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

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

although he could but allow that if anything was likely to induce belief in the existence of vampires. . and begged to know what had happened. shrugging up her beautiful shoulders. after the countess had a second time directed her lorgnette at the box. he looks more like a corpse permitted by some friendly grave-digger to quit his tomb for a while. felt the same unaccountable awe and misgiving. "Well. "what do you think of our opposite neighbor?" "Why. and revisit this earth of ours. The surprise and agitation occasioned by this full confirmation of Franz's former suspicion had no doubt imparted a corresponding expression to his features. "that those who have once seen that man will never be likely to forget him. and I even think he recognizes me. another. it would be the presence of such a man as the mysterious personage before him. "Oh. and wholly uninterested person. and directing it toward the box in question. How ghastly pale he is!" "Oh. or what?" "I fancy I have seen him before." said Franz. All doubt of his identity was now at an end. "that the gentleman. whose history I am unable to furnish." answered the countess. and whose voice and figure had seemed so familiar to him." "And I can well understand. I must now beseech you to inform me who and what is her husband?" "Nay. than anything human. "Then you know him?" almost screamed the countess. his singular host evidently resided at Rome. pray do. as though an involuntary shudder passed through her veins.the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum. taking up the lorgnette. for the countess. or a resuscitated corpse." continued the countess. "Countess. that he is no other than Lord Ruthven himself in a living form. totally unheeding her raillery." inquired Franz. for heaven's sake. he is always as colorless as you now see him. seems to me as though he had just been dug up. burst into a fit of laughter. "I know no more of him than yourself." "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. "I asked you a short time since if you knew any particulars respecting the Albanian lady opposite." This fresh allusion to Byron [*] drew a smile to Franz's countenance. "All I can say is." replied Franz." The sensation experienced by Franz was evidently not peculiar to himself." returned Franz. tell us all about--is he a vampire. after gazing with a puzzled look at his face." said the countess.

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

Why. these women would puzzle the very Devil to read them aright." So saying." Franz essayed to smile." said Franz. "do not smile. you must give me your word to return immediately to your hotel. and try to sleep away all recollections of this evening. once and forever. that I might compose my startled mind." "Upon my soul." "My dear Albert." cried he. "I am glad of this opportunity to tell you. good-night. and whither he is going. or whether her fears and agitations were genuine. do not serve as a conductor between that man and me. springing up. "Nay. However. I did not expect to see you before to-morrow. For my own part. Why. smoking a cigar. without the least doubt. 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." . I say. "My dear fellow. Pursue your chase after him to-morrow as eagerly as you please. the countess quitted Franz.half-reproachful observation on the subject. Franz found Albert in his dressing-gown and slippers. There are certain affinities between the persons we quit and those we meet afterwards. if a Parisian were to indulge in a quarter of these marks of flattering attention. promise me one thing. her reputation would be gone forever. Upon his return to the hotel. and make no attempt to follow this man to-night. For heaven's sake. I am quite sure I shall not be able to close my eyes. "is it really you? Why." said she. that you entertain a most erroneous notion concerning Italian women. and that is down below. I have more reasons than you can imagine for desiring to know who he is. listlessly extended on a sofa. And now. and I longed to be alone. go to your rooms. and I am sure it does not spring from your heart. leaving him unable to decide whether she were merely amusing herself at his expense. if you would not see me die of terror. but I can readily tell you where he is going to." "Where he comes from I am ignorant. it ill accords with the expression of your countenance." "What is it?" "Promise me. "Well." "I will do anything you desire. then. "but that horrid man had made me feel quite uncomfortable." "Let us only speak of the promise you wished me to make." replied Franz. except relinquish my determination of finding out who this man is. here--they give you their hand--they press yours in return--they keep up a whispering conversation--permit you to accompany them home. from whence he came. but never bring him near me.

He was rather too pale. Did he speak in your hearing? and did you catch any of his words?" "I did." "That settles it. they are made by a first-rate Paris tailor--probably Blin or Humann. Of what nature?" "Why. you know it is quite impossible to procure a carriage. "you deserve to be called out for such a misgiving and . from the cut of his clothes." said Franz. Indeed." "Now. "I tell you what. Besides." "He spoke the Romaic language. But tell me. what were you thinking about when I came in?" "Oh. I knew that from the mixture of Greek words. I was arranging a little surprise for you. for he well remembered that Albert particularly prided himself on the entire absence of color in his own complexion. and hang me. did he?" "I think so." "Certainly. "that the countess's suspicions were destitute alike of sense and reason." murmured Franz. but then. you must have perceived that the countess was really alarmed. Sir Franz."And the very reason why the women of this fine country put so little restraint on their words and actions. "'Tis he. in this difficulty a bright idea has flashed across my brain. nothing. certainly." "Indeed. I feel quite sure." Franz smiled. that tends to confirm my own ideas. and have really nothing to conceal." "At what? At the sight of that respectable gentleman sitting opposite to us in the same box with the lovely Greek girl? Now. is because they live so much in public. I can assure you that this hobgoblin of yours is a deuced fine-looking fellow--admirably dressed. you know. "Well." Franz looked at Albert as though he had not much confidence in the suggestions of his imagination. for my part. I met them in the lobby after the conclusion of the piece. paleness is always looked upon as a strong proof of aristocratic descent and distinguished breeding. past all doubt. then. I don't know whether I ever told you that when I was at college I was rather--rather strong in Greek." cried Albert. and I also know that we have done all that human means afforded to endeavor to get one. but they were uttered in the Romaic dialect. if I can guess where you took your notions of the other world from." "What do you say?" "Nothing.

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

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

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. "that if this person merited the high panegyrics of our landlord. Franz?" "Oh. that he is noble as a Borghese and rich as a gold-mine. "begs these gentlemen's permission to wait upon them as their neighbor." whispered Albert. from the Count of Monte Cristo to Viscomte Albert de Morcerf and M." replied Franz. and. The Count of Monte Cristo. he said. "Come in." The truth was." said Albert. What say you. Franz d'Epinay. "A very great nobleman." "Then you accept his offer?" said the host. but this I know. speaking in an undertone to Albert." replied Albert. the windows in the Palazzo Rospoli alone decided me. in which the stranger in the cloak had undertaken to obtain the freedom of a condemned criminal. he would have conveyed his invitation through another channel." "It seems to me. "that we will do ourselves the pleasure of calling on him. and not permitted it to be brought to us in this unceremonious way. "there is not much to find fault with here. "Of course we do. placing two cards in the landlord's hands." "Tell the count. then he should be . wearing a livery of considerable style and richness. A servant. "Please to deliver these. 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 must own I am sorry to be obliged to give up the cart and the group of reapers--it would have produced such an effect! And were it not for the windows at the Palazzo Rospoli. by way of recompense for the loss of our beautiful scheme. "Still. but whether Maltese or Sicilian I cannot exactly say. appeared at the threshold. and he will be honored by an intimation of what time they will please to receive him." continued the servant." "Faith. I agree with you. The Count of Monte Cristo is unquestionably a man of first-rate breeding and knowledge of the world. Signor Pastrini. who forthwith presented them to the two young men. Franz." said Franz." The servant bowed and retired. "That is what I call an elegant mode of attack. I don't know but what I should have held on by my original plan. "You were quite correct in what you said. He would have written--or"-At this instant some one knocked at the door." said Franz."What sort of person is this Count of Monte Cristo?" asked Franz of his host.

and in waking speculations as to what the morrow would produce. the Count of Monte Cristo. and. Signor Pastrini. while Albert." "What are they?" "Sort of wooden tablets hung up at the corners of streets the evening before an execution. it was very certain he could not escape this time. Eight o'clock found Franz up and dressed. that all good and faithful Catholics may offer up their prayers for the unfortunate culprits. "I had no such intention. but if your reason for inquiry is that you may procure a window to view it from. no. give me some particulars of to-day's executions. which. indeed.able to establish his identity. "but in case I feel disposed. who presented himself with his accustomed obsequiousness. their crimes. possessed the ring of Gyges. "I did not think it likely your excellency would have chosen to mingle with such a rabble as are always collected on that hill. and even if I had felt a wish to witness the spectacle. beseech of heaven to grant them a sincere repentance. I might have done so from Monte Pincio--could I not?" "Ah!" exclaimed mine host. and by its power was able to render himself invisible. was still soundly asleep." "Very possibly I may not go. Franz passed the night in confused dreams respecting the two meetings he had already had with his mysterious tormentor. The reason for so publicly announcing all this is. and mode of punishment. and unless his near neighbor and would-be friend. "is not some execution appointed to take place to-day?" "Yes." "What particulars would your excellency like to hear?" "Why." asked Franz. The first act of Franz was to summon his landlord. their names. the number of persons condemned to suffer." "Oh. on which is pasted up a paper containing the names of the condemned persons. "Pray." answered Franz. and also to prosecute his researches respecting him with perfect facility and freedom. your excellency." "And these tablets are brought to you that you may add your prayers to . they consider as exclusively belonging to themselves. your excellency! Only a few minutes ago they brought me the tavolettas." "That happens just lucky. above all. you are much too late." answered Franz. who had not the same motives for early rising. The next day must clear up every doubt. and description of the death they are to die.

and to grant them a hearty and sincere repentance for their crimes. close by your apartment. oblige me by a sight of one of these tavolettas. named Don Cesare Torlini. and the latter convicted of being an accomplice of the atrocious and sanguinary bandit. dear. your excellency! I have not time for anybody's affairs but my own and those of my honorable guests. their crimes. chuckling and rubbing his hands with infinite complacency. that it may please God to awaken them to a sense of their guilt." returned the landlord. and Franz deemed it advisable to awaken Albert. taking the tablet from the wall. the former found guilty of the murder of a venerable and exemplary priest. therefore." "Upon my word. are they?" asked Franz somewhat incredulously. his friend entered . who read as follows:-"'The public is informed that on Wednesday. "I think I may take upon myself to say I neglect nothing to deserve the support and patronage of the noble visitors to this poor hotel. the Transteverin was no other than the bandit Luigi Vampa himself. but I make an agreement with the man who pastes up the papers. and his band. my most excellent host. and Peppino." "Nothing can be easier than to comply with your excellency's wish. however. the second culprit beheaded. no. your excellency." "I see that plainly enough. and you may rely upon me to proclaim so striking a proof of your attention to your guests wherever I go." but who. otherwise called Rocca Priori. February 23d. opening the door of the chamber. but at the moment he prepared to proceed to his chamber.those of the faithful. Time was getting on. he may obtain every requisite information concerning the time and place etc. being the first day of the Carnival. John Lateran. Luigi Vampa." said the landlord. no doubt. named Andrea Rondola. by order of the Tribunal of the Rota. all agreed with his previous information. In all probability." cried Franz. that is a most delicate attention on your part. The prayers of all good Christians are entreated for these unfortunate men. canon of the church of St. and he brings them to me as he would the playbills. executions will take place in the Piazza del Popolo. and mode of punishment. "I have caused one to be placed on the landing. Meanwhile. Signor Pastrini. he handed it to Franz. as he had already done at Porto-Vecchio and Tunis." Then. The first-named malefactor will be subjected to the mazzuola. No part of the programme differed. that in case any person staying at my hotel should like to witness an execution. was still pursuing his philanthropic expedition in Rome.--the names of the condemned persons. and the man shrouded in the mantle the same he had known as "Sinbad the Sailor.'" This was precisely what Franz had heard the evening before in the ruins of the Colosseum. of two persons. "Oh. "Why.

"Well. Splendid paintings by the first masters were ranged against the walls." said Franz to his friend. my dear fellow. and invited them to enter. As the door opened. offered their high-piled and yielding cushions to such as desired repose or refreshment. "The Count of Monte Cristo is always an early riser." "Let us go and return our best thanks for his courtesy. then. Franz and Albert looked inquiringly at each other. "I signori Francesi. and were shown into an elegantly fitted-up drawing-room. while heavy curtains of costly tapestry were suspended before the different doors of the room. upon my soul. Albert?" "Perfectly. are you ready." "Yes. furnished in a luxurious manner they had not expected to see under the roof of Signor Pastrini." said the man. I am quite sure. my excellent Signor Pastrini. addressing his landlord. let us do so. and I can answer for his having been up these two hours." The domestic bowed respectfully. and. for the rapid closing of the door merely allowed one rich swell of harmony to enter. "Now." said Franz.the room in perfect costume for the day." replied he. The anticipated delights of the Carnival had so run in his head as to make him leave his pillow long before his usual hour. and sofas. "what think you of all this?" "Why." "Well. but was almost immediately lost. "If your excellencies will please to be seated." And with these words he disappeared behind one of the tapestried portieres." "Then you really consider we shall not be intruding if we pay our respects to him directly?" "Oh. if it be so. easy-chairs. it strikes me that our elegant and attentive neighbor must either be some successful stock-jobber who has . I will take all the blame on myself if you find I have led you into an error. The richest Turkey carpets covered the floor. Everything seemed more magnificent at a second view than it had done at their first rapid survey." The landlord preceded the friends across the landing. do you think we may proceed at once to visit the Count of Monte Cristo?" "Most assuredly. the sound of a guzla reached the ears of the young men. which was all that separated them from the apartments of the count. "since we are both ready. then at the gorgeous furnishings of the apartment. rang at the bell. said. upon the door being opened by a servant. "I will let the count know that you are here. They passed through two rooms. intermingled with magnificent trophies of war. and the softest and most inviting couches.

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

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

"one would think that you had studied the different tortures of all the nations of the world. "No. at least. is it not then. which is a very curious punishment when seen for the first time.--the more men you see die. they are in the infancy." replied Franz. and to whose tender mercy Richelieu had doubtless recommended the sufferer. the third curiosity. and in my opinion. but it is not an expiation." added the count. never trembles. few that I have not seen. of cruelty. I can assure you of one thing." "For Andrea Rondolo?" asked Franz. "And you took pleasure in beholding these dreadful spectacles?" "My first sentiment was horror." replied Franz. death may be a torture. or rather the old age. while the other. for you excite my curiosity to the highest pitch. and there mention was made of something like a pardon for one of the two men. for Peppino. I passed the evening at the Cardinal Rospigliosi's. "it was at first arranged in this way." "Really?" said Franz. "Really. like the soldier who beheaded the Count of Chalais. temperaments." "Curiosity--that is a terrible word. "for the other (he glanced at the tablets as if to recall the name). "do not tell me of European punishments. the second decapitato. carelessly." said the count coldly." "Why so? In life. You are thus deprived of seeing a man guillotined. from existence to annihilation? As for myself.' Hum! 'The first will be mazzolato. and how. our greatest preoccupation is death. but I think since yesterday some change has taken place in the order of the ceremony." continued the count. never strikes thirty times ineffectually. count. and Peppino. "pray explain your meaning." "I do not quite understand you. is very simple. in a contemptuous tone. different persons bear the transition from life to death. Ah. and the men of his band." replied the count. and even the second. but the mazzuola still remains.' Yes." "There are.Lateran. The mandaia [*] never fails. called Rocca Priori. "Yes." * Guillotine. convicted of complicity with the detestable bandit Luigi Vampa. the second indifference. and even the different customs of their countries. curious to study the different ways by which the soul and body can part." . the easier it becomes to die yourself. according to their different characters. called Rocca Priori. as you must know.

upon my soul. an eye . of arriving at your end when that end is vengeance! A man has carried off your mistress. But are there not a thousand tortures by which a man may be made to suffer without society taking the least cognizance of them. when torn from you. that it is often he who comes off victorious from the strife. and despair in your heart. eternal torture." continued the count. duelling. are inadequate tortures. "If a man had by unheard-of and excruciating tortures destroyed your father. a wound that never closes. avenges death by death. a man has dishonored your daughter. your betrothed. or pass a sword through the breast. thanks to my skill in all bodily exercises. and the indifference to danger I have gradually acquired. and the more so that. in your breast. but in return for a slow." cried the count. 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. it is not thus I would take revenge. the stake and the brand of the Iroquois Indians. and you think you are avenged because you send a ball through the head. for a blow. "had I to avenge myself. I would give back the same. absolved of all crime in the eyes of the world." "Ah. she can give blood in return for blood. "and it is to punish them that duelling is tolerated. left a desolation. a man has seduced your wife. And remember. "Oh. "understand me. and which are unpunished by society? Answer me. "a pleasant manner. No. do not these crimes exist?" "Yes." "Then you disapprove of duelling? You would not fight a duel?" asked Albert in his turn. but you must demand from her only what it is in her power to grant.--a being who. and deep hatred mounted to his face. astonished at this strange theory. no. the augers of the Persians." said Franz. of which we have just spoken? Are there not crimes for which the impalement of the Turks. yes. I would fight a duel for a trifle. and allows him who has caused us years of moral sufferings to escape with a few moments of physical pain?" "Yes. that is all. were it possible. for an insult. Oh. as the blood would to the face of any other. I should be almost certain to kill my man. your mother. "that where society.--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. profound. I know." "I will put another case to you. I would fight for such a cause." said the count. moreover. or offering him even the insufficient means of vengeance. attacked by the death of a person. an existence of misery and infamy. of that man who has planted madness in your brain." answered Franz."Listen." continued the count." replied the count. "that human justice is insufficient to console us.

What matters this punishment. rage carries you away.--those favored creatures who have formed for themselves a life of dreams and a paradise of realities. the recollection of the terror with which the count had inspired the Countess G----. as you might have had an opportunity then of seeing how short a time the punishment lasts." said Franz to the count. gentlemen. you shall have it. As for the count. and admirably served. not if he be rich and skilful. how did it arise? Ah. whether the explanation of the Count of Monte Cristo with regard to duelling had satisfied him.--our masters in everything. he seemed to fulfil the duties of a host by sitting down with his guests. and awaited their departure to be served with some strange or more delicate food. you asked for a place at my window. but. a tooth for a tooth. in order to observe the impressions which he doubted not had been made on him by the words of their entertainer. really this is a most singular conversation for the Carnival." said the count. and it is absolutely necessary to procure them. but let us first sit down to table. which was excellent. or whether the events which Franz knew of had had their effect on him alone. "with this theory. and he who pours out vengeance runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught. "but we have still much to do. and which the philanthropic French Revolution has substituted for being torn to pieces by horses or broken on the wheel. saying--"Al suo commodo!" The two young men arose and entered the breakfast-room. Hatred is blind. "Well. Franz looked repeatedly at Albert. the worst in the world. in spite of himself. he just touched the dishes. count. as long as he is avenged? On my word. a servant opened one of the four doors of the apartment. he remarked that his companion did not pay the least regard to them. but whether with his usual carelessness he had paid but little attention to him." "But." "Yes. This brought back to Franz.for an eye." "What may that be?" "We have no masks. At the end of the breakfast Franz took out his watch. During the meal." As he spoke." . besides. if he be poor and inexperienced." returned Franz. I almost regret that in all probability this miserable Peppino will not be beheaded. "what are you doing?" "You must excuse us. it would be difficult to adopt a course that would forever prevent your falling under the power of the law. I recollect. as the Orientalists say. and her firm conviction that the man in the opposite box was a vampire. which renders you at once judge and executioner of your own cause. for here comes the servant to inform us that breakfast is ready. the worst that could happen to him would be the punishment of which we have already spoken. 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. and whether it is worth even mentioning.

"Do not concern yourself about that. especially when he has behaved like a father. it is to see everything. they say that the culprit is an infamous scoundrel. I will have whatever costumes you choose brought to us. "Ma foi." returned the count. who killed with a log of wood a worthy canon who had brought him up like his own son." "Count. would you not see the bull-fight? Well. but I have never to make up my mind. 'I do not know'! And." replied the viscount. we have." said Franz. Albert?" "I. I have reflected on the matter. "and the recital from your make as great an impression on me as if I had witnessed it. and you. Think of the eighty thousand applauding spectators. I hesitated. when a churchman is killed. a private room in the Piazza del Popolo. and the sports where they killed three hundred lions and a hundred men. for I had quitted college the same morning." "But I warn you." "Besides. 'How do they execute at Rome?' and you reply. whichever you please. 'Come. you will lose a very curious sight. besides. but I think I was rather intoxicated that day. and we had passed the previous night at a tavern." "After the execution?" cried Franz. and I leave you at liberty to dispose of my place at the Piazza del Popolo. Diable. when you travel. the sage matrons who took their daughters. "Before or after. it should be with a different weapon than a log. but the count's eloquence decides me.'" "Shall you go.--"I saw Castaing executed. it is no reason because you have not seen an execution at Paris. I think." replied Franz." . yes. and you can dress there. Think what a figure you will make when you are asked. I than once intended witnessing an execution. "You lips have been will will more able describe it to me. suppose it is a bull-fight you are going to see? Recollect the ancient Romans of the Circus. like you. that you should not see one anywhere else. then. "I thank you for your courtesy. and the charming Vestals who made with the thumb of their white hands the fatal sign that said. Albert?" asked Franz. If you went to Spain." "Opposite the scaffold?" "The scaffold forms part of the fete. but I shall content myself with accepting a place in your carriage and at your window at the Rospoli Palace. despatch the dying.

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

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

the balconies of the two churches at the corner of the Via del Babuino and the Via di Ripetta were crammed. and then passed it to his companion. and holding in their hands lighted tapers. before which were two sentinels. It was evident that the execution was. the chief marched at the head. Each of them. He looked at Albert--he was as white as his shirt. Suddenly the tumult ceased. What the count said was true--the most curious spectacle in life is that of death. Behind the penitents came a man of vast stature and proportions. clothed from head to foot in robes of gray sackcloth. Many women held their infants on their shoulders. It was the first time Franz had ever seen a guillotine. Neither had his eyes bandaged. and by the terrible instrument that was in the centre. moreover. in a chapel closed by a grating. and thus the children had the best view. took out a flask of wine. with the exception of cloth drawers at the left side of which hung a large knife in a sheath. placed on each side of the door of the church. as they do not show the flour. Each was accompanied by two priests. appeared first. sandals bound on his feet by cords. from time to time. each accompanied by two priests. for he was wholly absorbed by the spectacle that the Piazza del Popolo presented. every niche in the wall held its living statue. and that is all the difference. who were relieved at intervals. A double line of carbineers. and the doors of the church opened. were eating their breakfasts. The prisoners. This man was the executioner.confetti (sweetmeats). because the Roman mandaia is formed on almost the same model as the French instrument. drank some. seated on the movable plank on which the victim is laid. Their repast consisted apparently of bread and sausages. that was impelled towards the portico. Andrea was supported by two priests. At this sight Franz felt the perspiration start forth upon his brow. [*] The knife. One of them lifted the plank. that cuts with the convex side. A brotherhood of penitents. All the rest of the square was paved with heads. while waiting for the criminal. leaving a path about ten feet wide. and around the guillotine a space of nearly a hundred feet. doubtless aware of what awaited him. The Monte Pincio seemed a vast amphitheatre filled with spectators. He had. Two men. He was naked. reached to the scaffold. laughter and jests arose from the crowd.--we say guillotine. and formed a circle around it. and he perhaps did not fully appreciate this new attention to their wishes. as if by magic. had passed the night. falls from a less height. only the commencement of the Carnival. transported the previous evening from the Carcere Nuovo to the little church of Santa Maria del Popolo." Franz heard the words of the count but imperfectly. kissed the crucifix a confessor held out to them. in the order in which they were to die. These two men were the executioner's assistants. Peppino walked with a firm step. in the eyes of the people. and mechanically cast away his cigar. And yet. although he had not half . the steps even seemed a parti-colored sea. first Peppino and then Andrea. which is shaped like a crescent. At this sight alone Franz felt his legs tremble under him. with holes for the eyes. and he bore on his right shoulder a heavy iron sledge-hammer. instead of the silence and the solemnity demanded by the occasion. Behind the executioner came.

a slight color seemed striving to rise in his pale cheeks. and seemed on the watch to see on which side his liberator would appear. and. who seemed roused from the torpor in which he had been plunged. At the moment when Peppino reached the foot of the mandaia. and his holiness also. "I thought. disclosed his white teeth. and his movements were apparently automatic and unconscious. half opened. And yet his features wore an expression of smiling tenderness." "And see.smoked it. The piercing eye of Peppino had noticed all. marked with brutal cruelty. "And yet here are two culprits. he carried his head erect. he might be thirty." replied he coldly. "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. and as they approached their faces became visible. Peppino remained breathless." said the principal friar. his legs bent beneath him. and. "A pardon for Peppino." "I told you true." said the count. "that you told me there would be but one execution. However. raising his hand. the two culprits advanced. * Dr. small and sharp like those of a jackal. did not indicate age. such as Franz had never before witnessed in them. I will not die alone--I will not!" And he broke . called Rocca Priori. more. a priest arrived in some haste. Guillotin got the idea of his famous machine from witnessing an execution in Italy. bronzed by the sun. "Why for him and not for me? We ought to die together." said Franz to the count. "For Peppino!" cried Andrea. I was promised he should die with me. "Heaven be praised. who read and returned it to him. And he passed the paper to the officer commanding the carbineers. The count alone seemed unmoved--nay. and his lips. advancing to the chief of the brotherhood. Peppino was a handsome young man of four or five and twenty." "Yes. his visage." said he in a loud voice." "If the pardon is to come. His nostrils dilated like those of a wild beast that scents its prey. Andrea was short and fat. unfolded it. The chief took the paper. but only one of these two is about to die. his black eyes especially were full of kindness and pity. forced his way through the soldiers. You have no right to put me to death alone. his head fell on his shoulder. In prison he had suffered his beard to grow. there is no time to lose. gave him a folded paper. the other has many years to live. here it is.

the mace fell on his left temple. his sole commandment. seizing the young men's hands--"look. this king of the creation!" And the count burst into a laugh. without being bitten by one of his race. extending his clinched hands towards the crowd. had forced him to his knees. and striving desperately to break the cords that bound his hands. Oh. and there. but. "Do you pity him? If you heard the cry of 'Mad dog!' you would take your gun--you would unhesitatingly shoot the poor beast. upon whom God has laid his first. to love his neighbor--man. as all the talk was in the Roman dialect. to whom God has given a voice to express his thoughts--what is his first cry when he hears his fellow-man is saved? A blasphemy. a terrible laugh. But man--man. and the man dropped like an ox on his face. and then turned over on his back. and who. look. but the count seized his arm. drew his . The people all took part against Andrea. man. "that this human creature who is about to die is furious that his fellow-sufferer does not perish with him? and. and twenty thousand voices cried. ere he had time. this masterpiece of nature." cried the count. was only guilty of having been bitten by another dog. because his hands are bound. were he able. the sheep will bleat for pleasure. it is true. now unable to kill any one. "Put him to death! put him to death!" Franz sprang back. and make one of them understand that his companion will not die. 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. after all. Honor to man. and his cries. A dull and heavy sound was heard. the criminal strove to rise. that another partook of his punishment--that another partook of his anguish--that another was to die before him. and that at all times you are worthy of yourselves!" Meanwhile Andrea and the two executioners were struggling on the ground. but he was about to die without resistance. "What is going on?" asked Franz of the count. and held him before the window. And yet you pity a man who. for. "What are you doing?" said he. and his two assistants leaped from the scaffold and seized him. and signed to them to get out of the way. his bites. the ox will bellow with joy. The executioner made a sign. he had not perfectly understood it. Here is a man who had resigned himself to his fate. "He ought to die!--he shall die!--I will not die alone!" "Look. Do you know what gave him strength?--do you know what consoled him? It was. "Do you not see?" returned the count. for on my soul it is curious. and it was dreadful to witness. wishes to see his companion in captivity perish. in spite of his struggles. and he kept exclaiming. The two assistants had borne Andrea to the scaffold.from the priests struggling and raving like a wild beast. who. man--race of crocodiles. that showed he must have suffered horribly to be able thus to laugh. "how well do I recognize you there. two oxen to the slaughterhouse. During this time the executioner had raised his mace. Franz was fascinated by the horrible spectacle." cried the count. whom God created in his own image--man. However. the struggle still continued. Lead two sheep to the butcher's. No. who was going to the scaffold to die--like a coward. The executioner let fall his mace. look!" The command was needless. no--look. has yet murdered his benefactor.

scaffold. and the count. who. without even thanking the worthy priests who accompanied him. with his eyes closed. was standing grasping the window-curtains. "Well. The Carnival at Rome. only he has remained asleep. The bell of Monte Citorio. only the people remained. but the culprit?" "That is a dream also. Decidedly man is an ungrateful and egotistical animal." Albert was drawing on the satin pantaloon over his black trousers and varnished boots. He glanced mechanically towards the square--the scene was wholly changed." replied the count. half fainting. When Franz recovered his senses. and with one stroke opened his throat. that I have suffered. and I understand what the count said--that when you have once . no." "In fact. which only sounds on the pope's decease and the opening of the Carnival. unlike most men. "Well. was ringing a joyous peal. that has disturbed you. But dress yourself. "what has. de Morcerf sets you the example. into a seat. to judge from his pallor." "It is but a dream. who was assuming his masquerade costume. he stood in great need. full of noise and excitement.knife. answer frankly. "But I am really glad to have seen such a sight. executioners. then. This time Franz could contain himself no longer. "this horrible scene has passed away like a dream. Albert." said Franz." asked he of the count. while you have awakened. the Carnival his commenced. but sank. of which." "Yes. Make haste and dress yourself. stamped violently on it with his feet. who are happy in proportion as they are noticed. all had disappeared. victims. He profited by this distraction to slip away among the crowd. as you see." said Franz. he saw Albert drinking a glass of water. The count was erect and triumphant. Albert. At every stroke a jet of blood sprang from the wound. was delighted to see that the general attention was directed towards his companion. and who knows which of you is the most fortunate?" "But Peppino--what has become of him?" "Peppino is a lad of sense. happened?" "Nothing. M." "Ma foi. "do you feel much inclined to join the revels? Come. like the Avenging Angel! Chapter 36. a nightmare. and mounting on his stomach. "only." returned Albert. see.

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

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

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

and you are already the best friends in the world. and ordered the horses to be harnessed. the servant inquired at what time they wished for the carriage." They resolved to profit by the count's courtesy. upon which Franz and Albert mounted to their apartments. the Countess G---. let us dine quietly. Albert." said she.entered. Her first look was at the box where she had seen the count the previous evening. During dessert." The host again assured them they might rely on him. "it seems you have nothing better to do than to make the acquaintance of this new Lord Ruthven. "His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo had. in his turn. we have them ready-made. Scarcely had they entered. Truth compelled Franz. carefully preserved the bunch of violets. that both my friend and myself attach the greatest importance to having to-morrow the costumes we have asked for. and. During the first act. "Well. it was his token reserved for the morrow. as he took off his dress. who use their boxes to hold receptions. they went to the theatre. "given positive orders that the carriage was to remain at their lordships' orders all day. that Franz saw it would be cruel not to satisfy her curiosity.'" "Agreed." said Franz. "leave all to our host. when you awake." he said. he has already proved himself full of resources. but they could not refrain from remarking the difference between the Count of Monte Cristo's table and that of Signor Pastrini. you shall find a collection of costumes with which you will be satisfied." returned Albert. so that she perceived Franz and Albert in the place of the very person concerning whom she had expressed so strange an opinion to Franz. in spite of the dislike he seemed to have taken to the count. availing himself of one of the privileges of the spectators of the Italian theatres. The two friends sat down to table. fearing really to abuse the count's kindness."Then I must give up the idea?" "No. the two friends went to pay their respects to the countess." . and to-morrow. while they substituted evening dress for that which they had on. and installed themselves in the count's box. to confess that the advantage was not on Pastrini's side. "but remember. sat behind. and proceeded to disencumber themselves of their costumes. Albert and Franz looked at each other. Her opera-glass was so fixedly directed towards them. and that their wishes should be attended to. Signor Pastrini. The servant understood them." "My dear Albert. This precaution taken. Leave all to me. and which was somewhat the worse for the numerous combats they had sustained. and afterwards go and see 'The Algerian Captive. and they could therefore dispose of it without fear of indiscretion. Albert. when she motioned to Franz to assume the seat of honor. hardly giving Franz time to sit down.

" "You know him." "All day?" "Yes. and no. it was he who introduced himself to us." "Through what medium?" "The very prosaic one of our landlord." "When?" "Last night." "At least wait until the story has a conclusion." "He is staying." "How so?" "It is a long story. then?" "Yes." returned Franz." "And he is a count?" . then." "So much the more reason." "Very well. and now we have taken possession of his box. but tell me how you made his acquaintance? Did any one introduce you to him?" "No." "What is his name--for. it is the name of the island he has purchased."Without being so far advanced as that. but on the same floor." "That is not a family name?" "No. you know?" "The Count of Monte Cristo. after we left you. my dear countess. "I cannot deny that we have abused his good nature all day. at the Hotel de Londres with you?" "Not only in the same hotel." "Tell it to me." "It would frighten you too much. we rode in his carriage all day. this morning we breakfasted with him. of course. I prefer complete histories.

"A Tuscan count. "did we not think him delightful." ." "Why." "When you say invisible. "We should be very hard to please. did you notice two windows hung with yellow damask. "I see my vampire is only some millionaire. de Rothschild." said the countess." said the countess. Do you know what those three windows were worth?" "Two or three hundred Roman crowns?" "Two or three thousand." "The deuce." returned Albert." observed the countess." "Well. madam. Did you pass through the Corso?" "Yes. 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." "No. and you have seen her?" "Her?" "The beautiful Greek of yesterday. A friend of ten years' standing could not have done more for us." "Well. "At the Rospoli Palace. I am referred to you. M." interrupted Albert." "You hear." "The count had three windows at the Rospoli Palace?" "Yes. we heard. but she remained perfectly invisible. I think. the sound of her guzla. smiling. "What sort of a man is he?" "Ask the Vicomte de Morcerf. or with a more perfect courtesy. we must put up with that. who was herself from one of the oldest Venetian families. who has taken the appearance of Lara in order to avoid being confounded with M. he must be a nabob. and one with white damask with a red cross? Those were the count's windows. de Morcerf." "Come. "it is only to keep up the mystery.

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

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

in order that you may be recognized. Franz was by no means sorry to learn how to act on such an occasion. also. during three years that he had travelled all over Italy. "Well. and follow the Roman peasant who snatches your torch from you. Franz took the letter. Albert nothing doubted but that the fair unknown would reply in the same manner. "Read. Constancy and Discretion. Franz remarked. when Franz had finished. declaring beforehand that he was willing to make any sacrifice the other wished. Until then you will not see me. and that he should pass the next day in writing and looking over his journal. while he gave these details. and as. that Albert seemed to have something to ask of him. which he doubtless meant to make the bearer of his amorous epistle. but that he was unwilling to ask it." replied Albert. The next morning he saw Albert pass and repass. "and I very much fear you will go ." asked he. descend from your carriage opposite the Via dei Pontefici. Franz anticipated his wishes by saying that the noise fatigued him. The evening was no longer joy. He therefore promised Albert that he would content himself the morrow with witnessing the Carnival from the windows of the Rospoli Palace. "Well. This belief was changed into certainty when Franz saw the bouquet (conspicuous by a circle of white camellias) in the hand of a charming harlequin dressed in rose-colored satin. at seven o'clock. Albert let himself be pressed just as long as friendship required.that his fair incognita belonged to the aristocracy. When you arrive at the first step of the church of San Giacomo." "I think so." said he. be sure to fasten a knot of rose-colored ribbons to the shoulder of your harlequin costume. for the next evening Franz saw him enter triumphantly shaking a folded paper which he held by one corner. Albert attributed to Franz's absence the extreme kindness of the fair peasant in raising her mask. He had made up his mind to write to her the next day. He felt assured that the perfect indiscretion of his friend would duly inform him of all that happened. "what do you think of that?" "I think that the adventure is assuming a very agreeable appearance. but delirium. Albert was not deceived. "was I mistaken?" "She has answered you!" cried Franz. 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. a similar piece of good fortune had never fallen to his share. He insisted upon it. holding an enormous bouquet. and read:-Tuesday evening. and then avowed to Franz that he would do him a great favor by allowing him to occupy the carriage alone the next day." This word was pronounced in a manner impossible to describe.

"I see that I shall not only go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's. "All the nobility of Rome will be present." Doubtless Albert was about to discuss seriously his right to the academic chair when they were informed that dinner was ready. however great Franz's desire was to allude to their former interview. and yet he had not let fall a single word indicating any previous acquaintance between them. Whether he kept a watch over himself. "You have read the letter?" "Yes.) "Yes. "Laugh as much as you will. she must go there. and find if you can. the Count of Monte Cristo was announced. The count had learned that the two friends had sent to secure a box at the Argentina Theatre. and were told they were all let. read the letter again.) "You are born to good fortune. and had only returned an hour since. Albert. The count must feel sure that Franz recognized him. I adore Rome." (The writing was. and if your fair incognita belong to the higher class of society." "If my unknown be as amiable as she is beautiful." "Well." Franz and Albert had received that morning an invitation from the celebrated Roman banker." "You alarm me. Albert's love had not taken away his appetite. or whether by accident he did not sound the acrimonious chords that in other circumstances had been touched. After dinner. and I have always had a great taste for archaeology." "Come. in reality. "I shall fix myself at Rome for six weeks." said Franz. as he returned the letter. He hastened with Franz to seat himself. but also return to Florence alone. The man was an enigma to Franz. "Take care." cried Franz. In consequence. any blemish in the language or orthography. my opinion is still the same. he brought them the key of his own--at least such was the apparent motive .alone to the Duke of Bracciano's ball. Look at the writing." said Albert. charming." replied Albert. two or three more such adventures. and I do not despair of seeing you a member of the Academy." "Whether she goes there or not. the fear of being disagreeable to the man who had loaded him and his friend with kindness prevented him from mentioning it. free to recommence the discussion after dinner." said Franz. On his side." returned Albert. Signor Pastrini informed them that business had called him to Civita Vecchia. and the orthography irreproachable. at least. They had not seen him for two days. he was to-night like everybody else." "You know how imperfectly the women of the mezzo cito are educated in Italy?" (This is the name of the lower class. "I am in love. He had started the previous evening. He was charming.

time. On Tuesday. he informed the countess of the great event which had preoccupied them for the last three days. Franz and Albert made some difficulty. The heroine of the bouquet kept her word. not in listening to the music. and his colossal fortune. or enthusiasm. but the count replied that. a single dispute. As similar intrigues are not uncommon in Italy.wished to revive the subject of the count. Franz had by degrees become accustomed to the count's pallor. The Countess G---. the last and most tumultuous day of the Carnival. And yet he did not wish to be at Paris when the count was there. From two o'clock till five Franz and Albert followed in the fete. the theatres open at ten o'clock in the morning. but Franz announced he had something far newer to tell her. he would produce a great effect there. the only defect. the comtess did not manifest the least incredulity. alleging their fear of depriving him of it. He thought several times of the project the count had of visiting Paris. she gave Albert no sign of her existence the morrow or the day after. or beneath Lara's helmet. to which all Rome was invited. His forehead was marked with the line that indicates the constant presence of bitter thoughts. the box at the Argentina Theatre would be lost if they did not profit by it. we will not say see him. the count seemed to have the power of fascination. The evening passed as evenings mostly pass at Italian theatres. And. 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. Truly. have not been to see the Carnival before. The count was no longer young. upon separating. as he was going to the Palli Theatre. mingle in the gayety. Franz was less enthusiastic. he had the fiery eyes that seem to penetrate to the very soul. to meet at the Duke of Bracciano's ball. On Tuesday. He could not refrain from admiring the severe beauty of his features. He was at least forty. and he had no doubt but that. as Lent begins after eight at night. . but even think of him without imagining his stern head upon Manfred's shoulders. or a single fight. to complete his resemblance with the fantastic heroes of the English poet. At length Tuesday came. and. but in paying visits and conversing. They promised. Albert was constantly expatiating on their good fortune in meeting such a man. all those who through want of money. exchanging handfuls of confetti with the other carriages and the pedestrians. his characteristic face. who crowded amongst the horses' feet and the carriage wheels without a single accident.of his visit. and yet it was easy to understand that he was formed to rule the young men with whom he associated at present. and contribute to the noise and excitement. which had so forcibly struck him at their first meeting. but the count exercised over him also the ascendency a strong mind always acquires over a mind less domineering. in spite of Albert's demonstrations of false modesty. if we may credit travellers. that is. or rather the principal quality of which was the pallor. with his eccentric character. a Byronic hero! Franz could not. but congratulated Albert on his success. This assurance determined the two friends to accept it.

The sellers of moccoletti entered on the scene. All these evolutions are executed with an inconceivable address and marvellous rapidity. in the midst of a tremendous and general outcry. flowers. like torrents pent up for a while. A detachment of carbineers. and the devil has somewhat aided him. seven or eight horses. at the cry of . then the trampling of horses and the clashing of steel were heard. which again flow into the parent river. a single arm that did not move. Then the Castle of Saint Angelo fired three cannon to indicate that number three had won. or moccoletti. and secondly. Immediately. It was a human storm. and already. how to keep his own moccoletto alight. are candles which vary in size from the pascal taper to the rushlight. The moccoletto is kindled by approaching it to a light. does not recollect to have ever seen a ceremony interrupted by one of those events so common in other countries. like the moccoli. without any other signal. Almost instantly. and nosegays. Albert was triumphant in his harlequin costume. As the day advanced. and which give to each actor in the great final scene of the Carnival two very serious problems to grapple with. The moccoli. eggs. The night was rapidly approaching. and the immense stream again continued its course between its two granite banks. let off on the Piazza del Popolo and the Piazza di Venezia (heard with difficulty amid the din and confusion) announced that the races were about to begin. the tumult became greater. the monstrous extinguishers. But he has discovered a thousand means of taking it away. are one of the episodes peculiar to the last days of the Carnival. oranges. Franz wore his peasant's costume. In order that there might be no confusion. There was not on the pavement. the carriages moved on. in the carriages. fifteen abreast. Every one hastened to purchase moccoletti--Franz and Albert among the rest. A knot of rose-colored ribbons fell from his shoulder almost to the ground. without the police interfering in the matter. at the windows. down all the streets. But who can describe the thousand means of extinguishing the moccoletto?--the gigantic bellows. passed by like lightning. a single tongue that was silent. galloped up the Corso in order to clear it for the barberi. The author of this history. made up of a thunder of cries. a second volley of fireworks was discharged. At the sound of the fireworks the carriages instantly broke ranks. excited by the shouts of three hundred thousand spectators. who has resided five or six years in Italy. and that one comes from God. At three o'clock the sound of fireworks. A new source of noise and movement was added to the crowd. flowing on towards the Corso. When the detachment arrived at the Piazza di Venezia.--first. the superhuman fans.The fetes are veritable pleasure days to the Italians. The moccoletto is like life: man has found but one means of transmitting it. and retired by the adjacent streets. to announce that the street was clear. how to extinguish the moccoletti of others. and a hail of sweetmeats. The races. The pedestrians ranged themselves against the walls.

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

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

"here I think. "I informed them at the hotel that I had the honor of passing the night here. "and then moreover. and the Tiber is very near the Via Macello." "Ah. "you.unknown about seven o'clock this evening." replied Franz." "And where is the messenger?" "He went away directly he saw me enter the ball-room to find you. who know Rome better than he does. "and desired them to come and inform me of his return. duke." replied the duke." The duke was not mistaken." "And don't you know where he is?" "Not at all. "Yes." said Franz. what could happen to him?" "Who can tell? The night is gloomy. "and whom I have not seen since. who gained the prize in the race to-day." said the duke to Franz." "Why did he not bring it to me here?" "The messenger did not say." "A letter from the viscount!" exclaimed Franz." said Franz. "go with all speed--poor young man! ." "You might as well have tried to stop number three of the barberi." he said. is one of my servants who is seeking you." "And who is the man?" "I do not know. when he saw Franz." "You should not have allowed him to go. the servant came up to him." "Is he armed?" "He is in masquerade. "Your excellency." "Oh. "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." Franz felt a shudder run through his veins at observing that the feeling of the duke and the countess was so much in unison with his own personal disquietude." said the countess to Franz.

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

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

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

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

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

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

the portcullis was therefore raised."Oh. A short time before they reached the Baths of Caracalla the carriage stopped. and went down the Corso." The count rang." In a very short time the noise of wheels was heard. At the door they found the carriage. Peppino opened the door. Ali had received his instructions. but I have often resolved to visit them. I resolve on starting for some particular point. and the count and Franz alighted." he said. allowing him to leave or enter the city at any hour of the day or night. Sebastian. Ali will drive." "Well. or in the middle of the night. and I should tell you that sometimes when I rise." he said. "and remove the pistols which are in the holsters. I am a very capricious being. accompanied by Peppino. "Half-past twelve." . then. or after my dinner. went up the Strada San Gregorio. and a footman appeared. The count took out his watch. which began to rise. day and night. but the delay may cause your friend to pass an uneasy night. here is an opportunity made to your hand. The road which the carriage now traversed was the ancient Appian Way." Franz and the count went downstairs. and they went on their way. sir. crossed the Campo Vaccino. Franz imagined that he saw something like a sentinel appear at various points among the ruins. You need not awaken the coachman. Peppino placed himself beside Ali. He is in a very picturesque place--do you know the catacombs of St." said the count to his companion." "That is of no consequence. and it would be difficult to contrive a better. in whom Franz recognized the dumb slave of the grotto of Monte Cristo. the porter had a louis for his trouble. Franz and the count got into the carriage. I always have one ready. Are you still resolved to accompany me?" "More determined than ever. Have you a carriage?" "No. and reached the gates of St. and therefore we had better go with all speed to extricate him from the hands of the infidels. Then the porter raised some difficulties." "Always ready?" "Yes. "we shall be there. and the carriage stopped at the door." "Well. but the Count of Monte Cristo produced a permit from the governor of Rome. From time to time. "We might start at five o'clock and be in time. Ali was on the box. decidedly. "Order out the carriage. and they set off at a rapid pace. "In ten minutes. Sebastian?" "I was never in them. and bordered with tombs. and away I go. come along. by the light of the moon. and suddenly retreat into the darkness on a signal from Peppino.

and then were stopped by. was visible along the wall. then. The count laid his hand on Franz's shoulder. "Now. then. "Who comes there?" At the same time they saw the reflection of a torch on a carbine barrel. more evident since Peppino had put out his torch. "if you will follow me. the opening of the catacombs is close at hand. and the other a bandit on the lookout. and Franz and the count were in utter darkness. which were arranged one above the other in the shape of coffins. whose extent it was impossible to determine. advancing alone towards the sentry." said Peppino. like the first. except that fifty paces in advance of them a reddish glare." Franz and the count in their turn then advanced along the same path. "Come with me. "Exceedingly. gave him an order in a low voice." One of the two men was Peppino. and were scarcely able to proceed abreast of one another. put out the torch." said the count. and finally he disappeared in the midst of the tall red herbage. and Peppino went away. Behind the sentinel was a staircase with twenty steps. "or shall we wait awhile?" "Let us go on. Peppino glided first into this crevice. at the distance of a hundred paces. The passageway sloped in a gentle descent. and the bandit saluted them. taking with him a torch." "Go on. Five corridors diverged like the rays of a star. and then he. rays of light were visible. "A friend!" responded Peppino. showed that they were at last in the catacombs. "Ought we to go on?" asked Franz of the count. brought with them in the carriage. the count . They came to an opening behind a clump of bushes and in the midst of a pile of rocks. making a sign that they might proceed. Down one of the corridors. and turned to see if they came after him. addressing the count. lighted his torch. he said a few words to him in a low tone. which. and the walls. still Franz and the count were compelled to advance in a stooping posture. "let us follow him. and. led them over a declivity to the bottom of a small valley. Peppino passed. Peppino will have warned the sentry of our coming. enlarging as they proceeded." replied Franz. "Would you like to see a camp of bandits in repose?" he inquired. They went on a hundred and fifty paces in this way. and found themselves in a mortuary chamber. "Your excellency. by which a man could scarcely pass. Five minutes elapsed. Franz and the count advanced. dug into niches. Peppino. The count first reached an open space and Franz followed him closely. during which Franz saw the shepherd going along a narrow path that led over the irregular and broken surface of the Campagna." Peppino obeyed. which seemed like the bristling mane of an enormous lion. saluted the nocturnal visitors." replied the count. They then perceived two men conversing in the obscurity.He then took Peppino aside. Franz and the count descended these. after they got along a few paces the passage widened. They advanced silently.

it appears to me that you receive a friend with a great deal of ceremony. and in groups. each having his carbine within reach. scarcely visible." exclaimed the chief. In the midst of this chamber were four stones. which had formerly served as an altar. At the other end. according to their fancy. Vampa rose quickly. to warn him to be silent. and on the other into a large square chamber. and no muscle of his countenance disturbed. "Well. ascending the three steps which led to the corridor of the columbarium. but also the conditions you make with them. . Franz himself. that I did not really recognize you. which served in some manner as a guide. who was less abstracted. your excellency." "Ground arms. and the middle one was used as a door. entered the chamber by the middle arcade. having committed an error. A man was seated with his elbow leaning on the column. through the openings of which the new-comers contemplated him. placed at the base of a pillar. "Your pardon. "Who comes there?" cried the sentinel. however. with an imperative sign of the hand. were to be seen twenty brigands or more." said he in a voice perfectly calm." "It seems that your memory is equally short in everything. and who saw by the lamp-light a shadow approaching his chief. lighted up with its pale and flickering flame the singular scene which presented itself to the eyes of the two visitors concealed in the shadow. as was evident from the cross which still surmounted them. When the count thought Franz had gazed sufficiently on this picturesque tableau. your excellency?" inquired the bandit. In a moment all the bandits were on their feet. he raised his finger to his lips. with the air of a man who. turning to the singular personage who had caused this scene. Luigi Vampa. Around him. and. he said. A lamp. was a sentinel.guiding Franz as if he had the singular faculty of seeing in the dark. and twenty carbines were levelled at the count. and was reading with his back turned to the arcades. Three arcades were before them. saw his way more plainly in proportion as he went on towards the light. my dear Vampa. or with their backs against a sort of stone bench. entirely surrounded by niches similar to those of which we have spoken. which went all round the columbarium. who was walking up and down before a grotto. then. "and that not only do you forget people's faces. Vampa. but I was so far from expecting the honor of a visit. drawing at the same moment a pistol from his girdle. This was the chief of the band." "What conditions have I forgotten. These arcades opened on one side into the corridor where the count and Franz were." said the count. while with the other he took off his hat respectfully. which was only distinguishable because in that spot the darkness seemed more dense than elsewhere. At this challenge. lying in their mantles. is anxious to repair it. "well. and like a shadow. silent. and advanced towards Vampa. who was so intent on the book before him that he did not hear the noise of his footsteps.

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

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

are you coming?" asked Albert. descended the staircase. and I hope you will not entertain any resentment at what has occurred. crossed the square chamber." "Well." replied the count. Franz paused for a moment." said the captain. "Peppino. a happy and merry life to you." added the chief. then Albert. and yet here was one whose gay temperament was not for a moment altered. but if you should ever feel inclined to pay me a second visit." replied the bandit. who has. he was evidently accustomed to see his prisoners tremble before him. where stood all the bandits. sir. followed by Franz and the count." continued Albert. indeed. gentlemen. you compensate for your mistakes in so gentlemanly a way. turning towards the young men. "it is my favorite work. he preceded his guests. "My dear Albert. we shall yet have time to finish the night at Torlonia's. he was enchanted at the way in which Albert had sustained the national honor in the presence of the bandit." "No. "I will show you the way back myself." "You are decidedly right. my dear Vampa. then. "I am curious to know what work you were perusing with so much attention as we entered. Come.'" said the bandit. "perhaps the offer may not appear very tempting to you. Signor Luigi. throughout this whole affair acted like a gentleman. "Yes. he bowed. You may conclude your interrupted galop. "And now. wherever I may be. "if you will make haste." And Albert. "allow me to repeat my apologies. as for Franz. you shall be welcome. "that is the least honor that I can render to your excellency. your excellency. hat in hand. "besides. On reaching the door. The bandit gazed on this scene with amazement." "Caesar's 'Commentaries. so that you will owe no ill-will to Signor Luigi." he said. . "you are as free as air." added he." said the brigand chief. "give me the torch. that one almost feels obliged to you for having committed them. "Has your excellency anything to ask me?" said Vampa with a smile." "Well. "is there any formality to fulfil before I take leave of your excellency?" "None." Franz and Albert bowed. I have." And taking the lighted torch from the hands of the herdsman. and we may reach the Palazzo by two o'clock. not as a servant who performs an act of civility.give it. come. but like a king who precedes ambassadors." replied Franz." "What are you going to do?" inquired the count. The count went out first." "Gentlemen.

turning round. but services such as he had rendered could never be too often acknowledged. so that there is not much of a score between us. "will you allow me. the young man had warmly and energetically thanked the count on the previous evening. "My dear count. and the perfect indifference you manifested as to the turn events might take." said Albert. "Madame. and he will assure you the delay arose from no fault of mine. my dear count. "let us on with all the speed we may. your pardon. advancing towards the countess. I am enormously anxious to finish my night at the Duke of Bracciano's. and to assure you that the remembrance of all I owe to you will never be effaced from my memory. after a short delay. I shall never cease to dwell with grateful recollection on the prompt and important service you rendered me. contained a request that Franz would accompany him on a visit to the count. all uneasiness on Albert's account ceased instantly. with a smile. You owe me nothing but some trifle of 20. but as they entered together." replied the count. and disappeared with her in the whirl of dancers."Yes. and therefore made no objection to Albert's request.000. whose character for veracity you well know." And as at this moment the orchestra gave the signal for the waltz." "My very good friend and excellent neighbor." he said. It was just two o'clock by Albert's watch when the two friends entered into the dancing-room. 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. as long as I live. Franz. believe me." said Albert. Albert put his arm round the waist of the countess." They found the carriage where they had left it. "here I am. The Compact." replied Franz.--but you must really permit me to congratulate you on the ease and unconcern with which you resigned yourself to your fate. The count said a word in Arabic to Ali." and he. who seemed attracted by some invisible influence towards the count. forced to give his hand to Albert. The first words that Albert uttered to his friend. "permit me to repeat the poor thanks I offered last night. "you really exaggerate my trifling exertions. in his turn. They advanced to the plain." . captain?" And he lighted his cigar at Vampa's torch. felt an extreme reluctance to permit his friend to be exposed alone to the singular fascination that this mysterious personage seemed to exercise over him. and also to remember that to you I am indebted even for my life. Chapter 38. "Now. francs. "Ah. and the horses went on at great speed. in which terror was strangely mingled. but here is my friend. advancing to meet him. true. the count joined them in the salon. Their return was quite an event. "yesterday you were so condescending as to promise me a galop. in some sort. left the caves. I am rather late in claiming this gracious promise. but at once accompanied him to the desired spot. which you have been saved out of your travelling expenses. on the following morning. and." said the Viscount of Morcerf.

" "Nevertheless. Rothschild." said Albert. "could scarcely have required an introduction. and say that I had previously made up my mind to ask a great favor at your hands. or connections. at your disposal. upon my arrival in France. a determination to take everything as I found it. de Morcerf" (these words were accompanied by a most peculiar smile)."Upon my word. in my own person. and all to whom my life is dear. All that. to open to me the doors of that fashionable world of which I know no more than a Huron or . and I have only to ask you. that although men get into troublesome scrapes all over the world." cried Albert. save that. I might have become a partner in the speculations of M." "Monsieur de Morcerf. my family. so necessary a duty. however. Your offer. I stayed away till some favorable chance should present itself of carrying my wish into execution. but. possesses considerable influence." exclaimed Albert. and I now come to ask you whether. "whether you undertake. I will go still further. my dear M. I can in any way serve you? My father. still. far from surprising me." "You are most kind. but unfortunately I possessed no acquaintance there. Aguado and M. the Comte de Morcerf. as that of making myself acquainted with the wonders and beauties of your justly celebrated capital. "your offer.--nay. but as my motive in travelling to your capital would not have been for the pleasure of dabbling in stocks." "Oh. both at the court of France and Madrid. "that you have reached your present age without visiting the finest capital in the world? I can scarcely credit it. was compelled to abandon the idea. as a millionaire. smooths all difficulties. is precisely what I expected from you. I should have performed so important. there is no nation but the French that can smile even in the face of grim Death himself." "So distinguished an individual as yourself." replied the count. pray name it. I agree with you in thinking that my present ignorance of the first city in Europe is a reproach to me in every way. "I deserve no credit for what I could not help. and I unhesitatingly place the best services of myself. had I known any person who would have introduced me into the fashionable world. namely. and to let those bandits see. I can find no merit I possess. has nothing to do with my obligations to you. however. and calls for immediate correction. and." "Is it possible. although of Spanish origin." "I am wholly a stranger to Paris--it is a city I have never yet seen. it is quite true. but as regards myself. and I accept it in the same spirit of hearty sincerity with which it is made. of necessity. in all probability.

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

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

" "Did you ever meet him previously to coming hither?" "I have." said Albert. "what can there possibly be in that to excite uneasiness? Why." "I will confess to you. Rue du Helder. "Let us understand each other. for it felt cold and icy as that of a corpse. "the count is a very singular person." said presented itself for saying are in your bearing towards always been courtesy itself him?" "Possibly. in the Rue du Helder. on the 21st of May. "I am glad that the occasion has this to you."Well. at half-past ten in the morning. "that is the way I feel. at half-past ten in the morning." replied Franz. you must have lost your senses." "My dear fellow. and bowing to the count." exclaimed Albert. holding out a hand to each of the young men. and your word of honor passed for your punctuality?" "The 21st of May." answered Franz." "Listen to me. "What is the matter?" asked Albert of Franz." "Upon your honor?" "Upon my honor. while he." It was the first time the hand of Franz had come in contact with that of the mysterious individual before him. 27." said the count." "And where?" "Will you promise me not to repeat a single word of what I am about to tell you?" "I promise. 27. Albert. The young men then rose. since we must part. Franz. for I have noticed how cold you the count. quitted the room. Have you anything particular against ." replied the Count. on the other hand. has to us. when they had returned to their own apartments. and the appointment you have made to meet him in Paris fills me with a thousand apprehensions." "Whether I am in my senses or not. "you seem more than commonly thoughtful. "it is agreed--is it not?--that you are to be at No. and unconsciously he shuddered at its touch." Albert. "allow me to wish you both a safe and pleasant journey. No.

and thereby depriving him of the advantages naturally expected from so large an outlay of capital. really the thing seems to me simple enough. and the two Corsican bandits with them. for my own part. driven by some sinister motive from their native town or village. while you have manfully resisted its effects for as many years. and how. and the magnificence of his entertainment in the grotto of the "Thousand and One Nights. At last he arrived at the adventure of the preceding night. by way of having a resting-place during his excursions."Then listen to me. the hashish. ere even I presented myself to the mayor or prefect.--an engagement which. Albert listened with the most profound attention. should I ever go to Corsica. and have the same liking for this amusement. there remained no proof or trace of all these events. the dream. "Well. and that their fellowship involves no disgrace or stigma. the statues.--and obtaining a bed on which it is possible to slumber." He recounted. seen in the distant horizon driving under full sail toward Porto-Vecchio. but purely and simply fugitives. possesses a vessel of his own. for." persisted Franz. they are a race of men I admire greatly. "the Corsican bandits that were among the crew of his vessel?" "Why. and finally of his application to the count and the picturesque and satisfactory result that followed. between the count and Vampa. my good fellow. Now. Then he detailed the conversation overheard by him at the Colosseum. Nobody knows better than yourself that the bandits of Corsica are not rogues or thieves. to prevent the possibility of the Tuscan government taking a fancy to his enchanted palace." 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. when Franz had concluded. all the particulars of the supper. Just ask yourself. 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. He dwelt with considerable force and energy on the almost magical hospitality he had received from the count. on my conscience. he has wisely enough purchased the island. my first visit. and. in which the count had promised to obtain the release of the bandit Peppino. as our readers are aware. he most faithfully fulfilled. whether there are not many persons of our acquaintance who assume the names of lands and properties they never in their lives were masters of?" "But. with circumstantial exactitude. "I suppose you will allow that such men as . if I could only manage to find them. but. should be to the bandits of Colomba. "what do you find to object to in all you have related? The count is fond of travelling. Go but to Portsmouth or Southampton. at his awakening. I protest that." said Franz. and taken its name." said he. save the small yacht. avoiding the wretched cookery--which has been trying its best to poison me during the last four months. and you will find the harbors crowded with the yachts belonging to such of the English as can afford the expense. being rich." "Still. Monte Cristo has furnished for himself a temporary abode where you first found him.

" "Talking of countries. upon receipt of my letter.Vampa and his band are regular villains." replied Franz. instead of condemning him for his intimacy with outlaws. not altogether for preserving my life. which. "of what country is the count. you must have lost your senses to think it possible I could act with such cold-blooded policy." "Well. most assuredly. 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. you must give me leave to excuse any little irregularity there may be in such a connection. for . did he ask you. saying. where. as in all probability I own my present safety to that influence. "when. did he put all these questions to you?" "I confess he asked me none. I should like to have answered." added Albert with a laugh." said Franz with a sigh. he merely came and freed me from the hands of Signor Vampa. whence does he derive his immense fortune. being translated. it would ill become me to search too closely into its source. for services so promptly and unhesitatingly rendered. who have no other motive than plunder when they seize your person. 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. contrary to the usual state of affairs in discussions between the young men. means neither more nor less than 24. "Well. you promptly went to him. 'Who is M. I did not very particularly care to remain. but certainly for saving me 4. I can assure you. help me to deliver him. in spite of all my outward appearance of ease and unconcern. then." "My dear Franz. in your place. How do you explain the influence the count evidently possessed over those ruffians?" "My good friend. for my own idea was that it never was in much danger. I should never have been estimated in France. "that no prophet is honored in his own country. proving most indisputably. then. Now." replied Albert. the effective arguments were all on Albert's side." And this time it must be confessed that. 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. Franz.' Was not that nearly what you said?" "It was. when.000 livres of our money--a sum at which. "do as you please my dear viscount. therefore." "No. you found the necessity of asking the count's assistance. 'My friend Albert de Morcerf is in danger. what is his native tongue.000 piastres.

even if that horizon is only a public thoroughfare. I will readily give him the one and promise the other. Albert de Morcerf inhabited a pavilion situated at the corner of a large court. Then. Rue du Helder. A high wall surrounded the whole of the hotel. was the large and fashionable dwelling of the Count and Countess of Morcerf. "and no doubt his motive in visiting Paris is to compete for the Monthyon prize. as you are aware. gave ingress and egress to the servants and masters when they were on foot. built in the heavy style of the imperial architecture. he had written in pencil--"27.M. There were not lacking. Between the court and the garden. Still. surmounted at intervals by vases filled with flowers. Albert de Morcerf to return to Paris. By means of the two windows looking into the street. A small door. let us talk of something else. you must admit that this Count of Monte Cristo is a most singular personage." "He is a philanthropist. and directly opposite another building. my dear Franz. and broken in the centre by a large gate of gilded iron. given. half-past ten A. close to the lodge of the concierge. and two at the back into the garden. Albert. Two windows only of the pavilion faced the street. But. Peter's?" Franz silently assented. should anything appear to merit a more minute examination. the sight of what is going on is necessary to young men. in spite of all. three other windows looked into the court. who always want to see the world traverse their horizon. placed in the care of a waiter at the hotel a card to be delivered to the Count of Monte Cristo. and then pay a last visit to St. which served as the carriage entrance. beneath the name of Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. the young men parted. to whoever shall be proved to have most materially advanced the interests of virtue and humanity. In the house in the Rue du Helder. and who lives as it were in a gilded cage." Chapter 39." answered the other. on the 21st May. And now. in which were the servants' apartments. careless life of an only son. and the following afternoon. and yet aware that a young man of the viscount's age required the full exercise of his liberty. The Guests. fearing that his expected guest might forget the engagement he had entered into. ere he entered his travelling carriage. at half-past five o'clock. It was easy to discover that the delicate care of a mother.your arguments are beyond my powers of refutation. Albert could see all that passed. where Albert had invited the Count of Monte Cristo. Albert de Morcerf could follow up . unwilling to part from her son. however. If my vote and interest can obtain it for him. on which. everything was being prepared on the morning of the 21st of May to do honor to the occasion. evidences of what we may call the intelligent egoism of a youth who is charmed with the indolent. and Franz d'Epinay to pass a fortnight at Venice. Come. shall we take our luncheon. had chosen this habitation for Albert.

maces. and a bedroom. on the ceiling. adorned with a carved shield. and single-stick. looking into the garden. The rest of the furniture of this privileged apartment consisted of old cabinets. Malay creeses. it was evident that every precaution had been taken. a destination unknown to their owner himself. pencils--for music had been succeeded by painting. with the addition of a third. fencing. Lucca della Robbia faience. in which perhaps had sat Henry IV. On the floor above were similar rooms. Louis XIII. formed out of the ante-chamber. but the well-oiled hinges and locks told quite another story. Mozart. Cook. from whose vigilance and jurisdiction it was free. the prying eyes of the curious could penetrate. with far more perseverance than music and drawing. the only rooms into which. or woven by the fingers of the women of Calcutta or of Chandernagor. i. over the doors. as they were on the ground-floor. broadswords. boxing. Albert's breakfast-room. and Porpora. Shrubs and creeping plants covered the windows. and on the left the salon. damasked. the three arts that complete a dandy's education. and hid from the garden and court these two apartments.. and Charles Leboucher. Haydn. boxing-gloves. and which merits a particular description. and groaning beneath the weight of the chefs-d'oeuvre of Beethoven. filled with Chinese porcelain and Japanese vases. with which the door communicated. but holding the potentialities of an orchestra in its narrow and sonorous cavity. these three rooms were a salon. flutes--a whole orchestra. was. they awaited. or Sully. in which the artist and the dandy strove for preeminence. a boudoir. Gretry. and. on the right. Over these dark and sombre chairs were thrown splendid stuffs. at least. and Palissy platters. it was impossible to say. following the example of the fashionable young men of the time. and it was here that he received Grisier. 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. or Richelieu--for two of these arm-chairs." opening at the "Sesame" of Ali Baba. The boudoir up-stairs communicated with the bed-chamber by an invisible door on the staircase. or. for Albert had had not a taste but a fancy for music. easels. which had been increased in size by pulling down the partitions--a pandemonium. It was a little entrance that seemed never to have been opened since the house was built. and single-sticks--for. On the walls. bass-viols. gilded. dyed beneath Persia's sun. At the end of a long corridor. hunting-horns. Weber. . What these stuffs did there. while gratifying the eyes. of old arm-chairs. Albert de Morcerf cultivated. similar to that close to the concierge's door.his researches by means of a small gate. some royal residence. In the centre of the room was a Roller and Blanchet "baby grand" piano in rosewood. Above this floor was a large atelier. This door was a mockery to the concierge. looking into the court.e. were swords. palettes. on which were engraved the fleur-de-lis of France on an azure field evidently came from the Louvre. There were collected and piled up all Albert's successive caprices. for the use of smokers. so entirely was it covered with dust and dirt. foils. brushes. daggers. The salon down-stairs was only an Algerian divan. like that famous portal in the "Arabian Nights. battle-axes. and which formed the ante-chamber. in the meantime they filled the place with their golden and silky reflections.

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

" "Ah. by an effort of the superciliary and zygomatic muscles. and the day before it had already transpired on the Bourse. and threw down. good-morning. he fixed in his eye. I will inquire. entered. we are tottering always. my dear fellow. and I begin to believe that we shall pass into a state of immobility. but confess you were pleased to have it. with light hair." A moment after. and the servant announced M. my dear fellow."If you wish. carelessly. when the time fixed was half-past! Has the ministry resigned?" "No. What do I say? punctuality! You. for I see you have a blue ribbon at your button-hole." returned Debray. true." said Albert. made a face seeing they gave an opera. "your punctuality really alarms me. they sent me the order of Charles III. Lucien Debray. "These papers become more and more stupid every day. "Come. "Good-morning. one after the other. Bourges is the capital of Charles VII. he has not much to complain of. Albert threw himself on the divan. muttering. and a tortoiseshell eye-glass suspended by a silken thread." "At Bourges?" "Yes. you drive Don Carlos out of Spain. tore off the cover of two or three of the papers. Lucien. with a half-official air. mine is incomplete. A tall young man. and which. and not a ballet. a white neckcloth. but we never fall. the three leading papers of Paris. without smiling or speaking." "No." . a carriage stopped before the door. We take him to the other side of the French frontier. and thin and compressed lips. ask her for one of her liqueur cellarets. do not confound our plans. no. clear gray eyes. and then the affairs of the Peninsula will completely consolidate us.. hunted vainly amongst the advertisements for a new tooth-powder of which he had heard." returned the young man. do not affect indifference. Do you not know that all Paris knew it yesterday. and M. you arrive at five minutes to ten. and that I request permission to introduce some one to her. seating himself on the divan. whom I expected last. looked at the theatre announcements. dressed in a blue coat with beautifully carved gold buttons. "reassure yourself. and tell her I shall have the honor of seeing her about three o'clock." "Yes." "Yes." The valet left the room. and offer him hospitality at Bourges. 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 am bored. and other diversions. a horse. a glass of sherry and a biscuit." "Really. to protect. queens. my dear Albert. and persuade the minister to sell us such instead of poisoning us with cabbage leaves. I am hungry. and who are yet leagued against me. for which Chateau-Renaud offered you four hundred louis. No. and here I am. "you astonish me by the extent of your knowledge." replied Morcerf. of course--try them. possessing five and twenty thousand francs a year. Besides. besides your place.--five and twenty despatches. while Lucien turned over. "Germain. that does not concern the home but the financial department. and strove to sleep. it is very well as a finish to the toilet. parties to unite. my dear diplomatist. ringing the bell. better still. At the Bois de Boulogne. 26. section of the indirect contributions. In the meantime. and which you would not part with. lighting a manilla at a rose-colored taper that burnt in a beautifully enamelled stand--"how happy you are to have nothing to do. having kings.--two enemies who rarely accompany each other." . I will do nothing of the kind." "On my word. with his gold-mounted cane." said Albert." "It is for that reason you see me so early. and you wish to announce the good news to me?" "No. elections to direct. Humann. the jockey-club." "Peste. I returned home at daybreak. It looks very neat on a black coat buttoned up. Address yourself to M. the papers that lay on the table. my dear Lucien." "It is my duty as your host. plunged at once into European cabals and Parisian intrigues. 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. You do not know your own good fortune!" "And what would you do. because I passed the night writing letters. Take a cigar. here are cigars--contraband. amuse me. ennui and hunger attacked me at once."Oh. "if you did nothing? What? private secretary to a minister. feed me. with the opera. I then recollected you gave a breakfast this morning. but my head ached and I got up to have a ride for an hour. can you not amuse yourself? Well." returned Albert. the moment they come from government you would find them execrable." "And makes you resemble the Prince of Wales or the Duke of Reichstadt.. I will amuse you. with a slight degree of irony in his voice. a sort of Carlo-republican alliance.. a tailor who never disappoints you." "Because you have the order of Charles III. and." replied Lucien. corridor A.

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

smiling and shaking hands with him." "Come." "You only breakfast. My dear Albert. and the instant they arrive we shall sit down to table." "In the entire political world. a minister who will hold office for six months. "A gentleman. "do I ever read the papers?" "Then you will dispute the more. The Breakfast. and a diplomatist. my dear Beauchamp? With your talents you would make your fortune in three or four years." said Albert. "for I criticise him without knowing what he does. come in. for our life is not an idle one." "I only await one thing before following your advice." "They say that it is quite fair. commander!" "Ah." returned Beauchamp." Chapter 40. "Come in. "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." "My dear friend. rising and advancing to meet the young man. that is. "Here is Debray. Do we breakfast or dine? I must go to the Chamber. and that sowing so much red. "And what sort of persons do you expect to breakfast?" said Beauchamp. "Why do you not join our party. for I must give poor Lucien a respite. you know that already." ." "M. Beauchamp. of which you are one of the leaders."About what?" "About the papers. so he says." said Lucien with an air of sovereign contempt." said the private secretary. you ought to reap a little blue. come. who detests you without reading you. one word." "He is quite right. I await two persons. that is not bad!" said Lucien." announced the servant. Good-day.

I shall take a cutlet on my way to the Chamber. to a mesalliance. but he cannot make him a gentleman. this marriage will never take place. I cannot in conscience." "Ah. coffee. and at his wife's this evening I shall hear the tragedy of a peer of France. you must lay in a stock of hilarity. we will breakfast at eleven. I shall come back to dessert. and take a glass of sherry and a biscuit. that is exactly the worst of all. I shall hear this morning that M. and cigars. for were the gentleman a Montmorency. Danglars' speeches. or a railroad from the Jardin des Plantes to La Rapee. and can make him a peer. and yet it seems to me that when the minister is out of spirits. "do you marry her. and the diplomatist a Metternich. "it is plain that the affairs of Spain are settled." said Debray. how could we choose that?" "I understand." "Do not do anything of the sort. the opposition ought to be joyous." said Beauchamp. keep me some strawberries. Eugenie Danglars. The devil take the constitutional government. to laugh at my ease." said Albert to Beauchamp. it is true. "he votes for you." "You are like Debray." said Debray."Then we shall have to wait two hours for the gentleman. well. but what does that matter? It ." "Never mind what he says." "Do not run down M. "It is the social capital of a theatre on the boulevard. let you run down the speeches of a man who will one day say to me. and since we had our choice. I must do something to distract my thoughts. "The king has made him a baron. for he belongs to the opposition. 'Vicomte. you know I give my daughter two millions. in the meantime. therefore. I will stay. as they say." replied Morcerf. for the paltry sum of two million francs. The Viscount of Morcerf can only wed a marchioness." "Be it so. I am waiting until you send him to speak at the Luxembourg." "But two million francs make a nice little sum. at least. and the Count of Morcerf is too aristocratic to consent. Danglars make a speech at the Chamber of Deputies. Recollect that Parisian gossip has spoken of a marriage between myself and Mlle. You marry a money-bag label. and three for the diplomatist. follow Debray's example." "Pardieu. Morcerf. you do not know with what I am threatened." "My dear friend. for you are most desperately out of humor this morning.'" "Ah.

you are his friend. you told me you only expected two persons. he can be. to breakfast." "On my word. viscount. and what is more--however the man speaks for himself--my preserver. through your body. to cure you of your mania for paradoxes." ." cried Beauchamp. gentleman all over. de Chateau-Renaud--M. "for here is Chateau-Renaud. nothing worth speaking of." "Do not say that. a handsome young man of thirty. and black mustache. "let me introduce to you M." returned Beauchamp. my friend. Maximilian Morrel. with large and open brow." And he stepped on one side to give place to a young man of refined and dignified bearing. "M. piercing eyes. Debray. besides. who." muttered Albert--"Morrel--who is he?" But before he had finished. and you will still have four. "Now." "Oh. and his broad chest was decorated with the order of the Legion of Honor. "To be sure. Salute my hero.is better to have a blazon less and a figure more on it." "Well said. "and pray that.--that is.--took Albert's hand. "My dear Albert. whom our readers have already seen at Marseilles. every millionaire is as noble as a bastard--that is. "the minister quotes Beranger. de Chateau-Renaud exaggerates." said Albert with affectionate courtesy. captain of Spahis. "the count of Chateau-Renaud knew how much pleasure this introduction would give me. he may do as much for you as he did for me." said Beauchamp. de Guise had." "Morrel." said he. A rich uniform. give three to your wife. announcing two fresh guests. The young officer bowed with easy and elegant politeness. M." said Morrel. be ours also. that is one more than M." "He will sully it then." said the servant. will pass the sword of Renaud de Montauban. heavens. who so nearly became King of France. if I remember. if you should ever be in a similar predicament." returned Lucien. "Oh. laughing. Albert. under circumstances sufficiently dramatic not to be forgotten. then. half French. "for I am low--very low." interrupted Chateau-Renaud. "for. what shall we come to next?" "M. Maximilian Morrel. Lucien. set off his graceful and stalwart figure. "Monsieur. You have seven martlets on your arms. with the figure of a Guiche and the wit of a Mortemart. I think you are right. de Chateau-Renaud." said Albert absently. half Oriental. his ancestor." "What has he done?" asked Albert. and whose cousin was Emperor of Germany.

" replied Beauchamp. "But I recollect perfectly one thing. a diplomatist!" observed Debray." "Ah. that Captain Morrel saved your life. "it is only a quarter past ten." "You are quite right. "Beauchamp." "Gentlemen. that had I been king. "Diplomat or not. It is very well for you. "It was only to fight as an amateur. about what?" "The devil take me. I don't know." returned Chateau-Renaud. that." "Ah. "you did fight some time ago. one whom you all know--poor Franz d'Epinay. and tell us all about it. who only did so once"-"We gather from all this." "Exactly so. I cannot bear duelling since two seconds. true. if I remember. "Chateau-Renaud can tell us while we eat our breakfast. which he terminated so entirely to my satisfaction. "life is not worth speaking of!--that is rather too philosophical. you know I am starving." "On what occasion?" asked Beauchamp. I do not prevent your sitting down to table." said Debray: "do not set him off on some long story. Morrel. "take a glass of sherry." said Morcerf. true. whom I had chosen to arrange an affair. forced me to break the arm of one of my best friends." said Debray." "Well. but for me." said Albert gallantly. baron. I only know that he charged himself on my account with a mission." "Well. even had I been able to offer him the Golden Fleece and the Garter. being unwilling to let such talents as mine sleep. my good fellow. since we are not to sit down to table." "You all know that I had the fancy of going to Africa." observed the young aristocrat." said Debray. who risk your life every day. I should have instantly created him knight of all my orders. "Yes? but I doubt that your object was like theirs--to rescue the Holy Sepulchre. and I expect some one else." "It is a road your ancestors have traced for you. on my word. Beauchamp. I wished to try upon the Arabs the new pistols that had ."Not worth speaking of?" cried Chateau-Renaud.

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

as I had the honor to tell you. "Oh." . you will give me five minutes' grace. "I think him capable of everything. "You have already answered the question once. he was then at Rome. which he will tell you some day when you are better acquainted with him. we have only ten left." replied Morcerf." continued Chateau-Renaud." "I will profit by them to tell you something about my guest." "And where does he come from?" asked Debray." said Beauchamp. and not our memories. but so vaguely that I venture to put it a second time. sacrifice or not." "Well. Morrel alludes. when I invited him three months ago. it will be given to some one who has done nothing to deserve it. "parbleu." "What shall we do?" said Debray. taking out his watch. "that is the way the Academy mostly escapes from the dilemma." "Precisely?" asked Debray. do you think I cannot be saved as well as any one else. "for I also expect a preserver. "I do not know. to-day let us fill our stomachs. that day I owed an offering to bad fortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had on other days granted to us." cried Morcerf. "is an admirable one. I hope so--two benefactors of humanity." "Really. but since that time who knows where he may have gone?" "And you think him capable of being exact?" demanded Debray." interrupted Beauchamp. "are there any materials for an article in what you are going to tell us?" "Yes. heroism or not. and for a most curious one. "we have only one Monthyon prize. What time do you breakfast." "Of whom?" "Of myself." "The history to which M. Albert?" "At half-past ten." "I beg pardon." said Albert. and we shall have at table--at least. with the five minutes' grace. and that there are only Arabs who cut off heads? Our breakfast is a philanthropic one." "Well.

for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this morning. we are sufficiently well-bred to excuse you." "There are no bandits. called the Catacombs of Saint Sebastian." "I was at Rome during the last Carnival. or rather most admirable ones. and I must make up for it.000 Roman crowns--about 24. a Perseus freeing Andromeda. like Madame de Maintenon." "We know that."Go on. I wrote to Franz--and were he here he would confirm every word--I wrote then to Franz that if he did not come with the four thousand crowns before six. I was at the end of my journey and of my credit. Unfortunately." "I know it.500. I tell it as a true one from beginning to end. "I narrowly escaped catching a fever there." "Come. and Signor Luigi Vampa. fabulous as it promises to be." "No. and conducted me to a gloomy spot. and most hideous." said Beauchamp. Say so at once." said Chateau-Renaud. he is a man about my own size. fabulous as it may seem. such was the name of the chief of these bandits. at ten minutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saints and glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor of being. but what you do not know is that I was carried off by bandits. then. and to listen to your history. that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend or Marennes. "Yes there are. "A man whose name is Franz d'Epinay or Albert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuring them." "And I say to you. this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus." ." said Chateau-Renaud." replied Morcerf. "confess that your cook is behindhand. would have scrupulously kept his word." "Ah. for I found them ugly enough to frighten me. you are going to replace the dish by a story. I had not above 1." cried Debray. "Yes. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum of 4. "for I caught one. my dear Albert." "And I did more than that." "But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns. The brigands had carried me off.000 francs." "No." said Debray. and that. he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am going to present to you.

as the Mortemarts did the Dead Sea." "I do not understand you." said Maximilian. if . "I do not think so." "But he paid your ransom?" "He said two words to the chief and I was free. do you know if the persons you see there are rich or poor. he of whom I speak is the lord and master of this grain of sand. "Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spoken of by the old sailors my father employed--a grain of sand in the centre of the Mediterranean. "Well. then?" "I believe so." "Precisely!" cried Albert." "He is rich. "Just so." "Have you read the 'Arabian Nights'?" "What a question!" "Well." "I think I can assist your researches." "That is what deceives you. of this atom. with the air of a man who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly. an atom in the infinite. and one of his ancestors possessed Calvary." "And they apologized to him for having carried you off?" said Beauchamp. he has purchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany." "No."Armed to the teeth?" "He had not even a knitting-needle." added Chateau-Renaud." "But that ought to be visible." "Why. his name is the Count of Monte Cristo. "Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?" "He comes possibly from the Holy Land. he is a second Ariosto. Debray." "There is no Count of Monte Cristo" said Debray.

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

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

and the terror of the French government. He seemed scarcely five and thirty." "Oh. since his paper is prohibited there." The involuntary start every one gave proved how much Morcerf's narrative had impressed them. Lucien Debray. And we have just heard. "is the politeness of kings." cried Beauchamp. "No Count of Monte Cristo" added Debray. and Albert himself could not wholly refrain from manifesting sudden emotion." replied the count. count?" said Albert. "I was announcing your visit to some of my friends. "You have never seen our Africans." replied Albert. de Morcerf. However. it seems. and approached Albert. or steps in the ante-chamber. Albert. They are the Count of Chateau-Renaud. But what struck everybody was his extreme resemblance to the portrait Debray had drawn. it is forbidden to beat the postilions." continued Beauchamp. Maximilian Morrel. lustrous. Beauchamp. but at the same time with coldness and formality. and boots--was from the first makers. M. beneath this uniform beats one of the bravest and noblest hearts in the whole army. and let us sit down to breakfast. an editor of a paper. The count advanced." said he. M. "His excellency the Count of Monte Cristo. The count appeared. who hastened towards him holding out his hand in a ceremonial manner. but it is not the same with travellers. "There is half-past ten striking. "Never. gloves. captain. into the centre of the room." At this name the count. I think. "Let me go on. whom I had invited in consequence of the promise you did me the honor to make. captain of Spahis. I hope you will excuse the two or three seconds I am behindhand. but of whom. but the most fastidious dandy could have found nothing to cavil at in his toilet. private secretary to the minister of the interior. and especially in France. which was in general so clear. "Well. according to one of your sovereigns. you perhaps have not heard in Italy. monsieur. M. five hundred leagues are not to be accomplished without some trouble. who was by this time perfectly master of himself again. the door had itself opened noiselessly. "it is a handsome uniform. and what made his eye flash. "Punctuality. He had not heard a carriage stop in the street. stepped a pace forward. and a slight tinge of red colored his pale cheeks." "Confess you have dreamed this. But the sound of the clock had not died away when Germain announced. and whose ancestors had a place at the Round Table. smiling. and whom I now present to you."No vampire." said Monte Cristo. Every article of dress--hat. and M. whose nobility goes back to the twelve peers." continued Albert. and limpid when he pleased. "of . dressed with the greatest simplicity." interrupted Morrel." No one could have said what caused the count's voice to vibrate so deeply." "My dear count. who had hitherto saluted every one with courtesy. "You wear the uniform of the new French conquerors. coat. in spite of his national celebrity. where.

"Germain informs me that breakfast is ready. and have had some dishes prepared expressly. let us breakfast. "so much the better. or too Arabian. and up to the present time I have followed the Eastern customs. therefore. for the count is a most singular being." They passed silently into the breakfast-room. in spite of the singular remark he has made about me. I request you to allow me to introduce him as my friend. seating himself. however strange the speech might seem. The French way of living is utterly unknown to me." "With what an air he says all this. you have a noble heart. and so heroic a one. and . "you would not give one thought of such a thing for a traveller like myself. I am a stranger. But. Morrel!" "Ma foi. then. "Ah. surprised everybody. it was impossible to be offended at it." said the count. allow me to show you the way. M.a new deed of his. "Albert has not deceived us." added Debray." muttered Beauchamp. "permit me to make a confession which must form my excuse for any improprieties I may commit. who has successively lived on maccaroni at Naples. a most temperate guest." This exclamation. What say you. Albert remarked this. pilau at Constantinople. although I have seen him to-day for the first time. the intonation was so soft that. at the same time. that this is the first time I have ever been at Paris." "A great man in his own country. smiling." returned the count." "Did you know me better." "Gentlemen. and every one took his place." said the count. that. olla podrida at Valencia. which corresponded to the count's own thought rather than to what Albert was saying. and a stranger to such a degree. which are entirely in contrast to the Parisian. he has an open look about him that pleases me. expressing his fears lest." said Albert. "decidedly he is a great man. "Why should he doubt it?" said Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud. "A great man in every country." At these words it was still possible to observe in Monte Cristo the concentrated look. My dear count. it may be remembered. The count was. polenta at Milan. that the fare of the Rue du Helder is not so much to your taste as that of the Piazza di Spagni. and especially Morrel. Now. and that is. too Italian. the Parisian mode of life should displease the traveller in the most essential point. I beg you." said Chateau-Renaud. changing color. "I fear one thing. who. at the outset. and slight trembling of the eyelid that show emotion. "My dear count. Debray." said he." replied the latter. who looked at Monte Cristo with wonder. "In reality. to excuse if you find anything in me too Turkish. with his aristocratic glance and his knowledge of the world. "Gentlemen. karrick in India. I ought to have consulted you on the point. had penetrated at once all that was penetrable in Monte Cristo.

" "You have a recipe for it?" "An infallible one. Ask Baron Franz d'Epinay. "you have not eaten for four and twenty hours?" "No. the effect is produced." ." "But you can sleep when you please. who. "Oh." "May we inquire what is this recipe?" asked Debray." said Beauchamp. between the Tigris and the Euphrates." said Monte Cristo." "That would be invaluable to us in Africa." replied Morcerf. yes. "Yes. is my day of appetite. It is a mixture of excellent opium.swallows' nests in China." returned Monte Cristo." "But. who have not always any food to eat. monsieur?" said Morrel. "I was forced to go out of my road to obtain some information near Nimes. and formed into pills. was very incredulous. "No. and of everything. for I have not eaten since yesterday morning. These two ingredients are mixed in equal proportions. "he said something about it to me. which I fetched myself from Canton in order to have it pure. "but. and rarely anything to drink. that you reproach me with my want of appetite. as I generally do when I am weary without having the courage to amuse myself." replied the count." "And you ate in your carriage?" asked Morcerf. and therefore I did not choose to stop." "What. "you always carry this drug about you?" "Always. or when I am hungry without feeling inclined to eat. and to-day. so that I was somewhat late. I slept. which might not awake when it was needed. I think he tasted them one day." cried all the guests. I eat everywhere. as became a journalist." "Yes. and the best hashish which grows in the East--that is. unfortunately." "Yes. "I make no secret of it. Ten minutes after one is taken. only I eat but little. a recipe excellent for a man like myself would be very dangerous applied to an army.

but it was more to examine the admirable emerald than to see the pills that it passed from hand to hand." said Chateau-Renaud. There were four or five more in the emerald. the liberty of a woman. no. you have no idea what pleasure it gives me to hear you speak thus. so that once in my life I have been as powerful as if heaven had brought me into the world on the steps of a throne. another to our holy father the Pope. or twenty thieves." replied Monte Cristo. 'A member of the Jockey Club has been stopped and robbed on the Boulevard. "Oh. which would contain about a dozen. have been arrested in a cafe . the sight of the emerald made them naturally incline to the former belief. "although my mother has some remarkable family jewels. every day.' 'four persons have been assassinated in the Rue St. hoping to take him at a disadvantage. "No. monsieur. The casket passed around the table. here is Debray who reads. "The Sultan. and I had it hollowed out. I kept the third for myself.' a wizard of the Middle Ages. Pius VII." returned the count. and he drew from his pocket a marvellous casket. given by the Emperor Napoleon to his predecessor."Would it be an indiscretion to ask to see those precious pills?" continued Beauchamp. This ball had an acrid and penetrating odor. Denis' or 'the Faubourg St." "And it was Peppino you saved." returned the count. and prepare my pills myself. smiling. was it not?" cried Morcerf. "the Pope. or that he was mad. For example. fifteen. "I gave one to the Sultan." "This is a magnificent emerald. However. "And is it your cook who prepares these pills?" asked Beauchamp. "it was for him that you obtained pardon?" "Perhaps. "I had announced you beforehand to my friends as an enchanter of the 'Arabian Nights. the life of a man. but the Parisians are so subtle in paradoxe