The Count of Mount Cristo (79-95) 109 pages

Chapter 79. The Lemonade.

Morrel was, in fact, very happy. M. Noirtier had just sent for him, andhe was in such haste to know the reason of his doing so that he had notstopped to take a cab, placing infinitely more dependence on his own twolegs than on the four legs of a cab-horse. He had therefore set off ata furious rate from the Rue Meslay, and was hastening with rapid stridesin the direction of the Faubourg Saint-Honore. Morrel advanced witha firm, manly tread, and poor Barrois followed him as he best might. Morrel was only thirty-one, Barrois was sixty years of age; Morrel wasdeeply in love, and Barrois was dying with heat and exertion. Thesetwo men, thus opposed in age and interests, resembled two parts ofa triangle, presenting the extremes of separation, yet neverthelesspossessing their point of union. This point of union was Noirtier, andit was he who had just sent for Morrel, with the request that the latterwould lose no time in coming to him--a command which Morrel obeyed tothe letter, to the great discomfiture of Barrois. On arriving at thehouse, Morrel was not even out of breath, for love lends wings to ourdesires; but Barrois, who had long forgotten what it was to love, wassorely fatigued by the expedition he had been constrained to use.

The old servant introduced Morrel by a private entrance, closed the doorof the study, and soon the rustling of a dress announced the arrival ofValentine. She looked marvellously beautiful in her deep mourning dress, and Morrel experienced such intense delight in gazing upon her that hefelt as if he could almost have dispensed with the conversation of hergrandfather. But the easy-chair of the old man was heard rollingalong the floor, and he soon made his appearance in the room. Noirtieracknowledged by a look of extreme kindness and benevolence the thankswhich Morrel lavished on him for his timely intervention on behalfof Valentine and himself--an intervention which had saved them fromdespair. Morrel then cast on the invalid an interrogative look as to thenew favor which he designed to bestow on him. Valentine was sitting ata little distance from them, timidly awaiting the moment when she shouldbe obliged to speak. Noirtier fixed his eyes on her. "Am I to say whatyou told me?" asked Valentine. Noirtier made a sign that she was to doso.

"Monsieur Morrel, " said Valentine to the young man, who was regardingher with the most intense interest, "my grandfather, M. Noirtier, had athousand things to say, which he told me three days ago; and now, he hassent for you, that I may repeat them to you. I will repeat them, then;and since he has chosen me as his interpreter, I will be faithful to thetrust, and will not alter a word of his intentions. "

"Oh, I am listening with the greatest impatience, " replied the youngman; "speak, I beg of you. " Valentine cast down her eyes; this was agood omen for Morrel, for he knew that nothing but happiness could havethe power of thus overcoming Valentine. "My grandfather intends leavingthis house, " said she, "and Barrois is looking out suitable apartmentsfor him in another. "

"But you, Mademoiselle de Villefort, --you, who are necessary to M. Noirtier's happiness"--

"I?" interrupted Valentine; "I shall not leave my grandfather, --that isan understood thing between us. My apartment will be close to his. Now, M. De Villefort must either give his consent to this plan or hisrefusal; in the first case, I shall leave directly, and in the second, I shall wait till I am of age, which will be in about ten months. Then Ishall be free, I shall have an independent fortune, and"--

"And what?" demanded Morrel.

"And with my grandfather's consent I shall fulfil the promise which Ihave made you. " Valentine pronounced these last few words in such a lowtone, that nothing but Morrel's intense interest in what she was sayingcould have enabled him to hear them. "Have I not explained your wishes, grandpapa?" said Valentine, addressing Noirtier. "Yes, " looked the oldman. --"Once under my grandfather's roof, M. Morrel can visit me in thepresence of my good and worthy protector, if we still feel that theunion we contemplated will be likely to insure our future comfort andhappiness; in that case I shall expect M. Morrel to come and claim meat my own hands. But, alas, I have heard it said that hearts inflamedby obstacles to their desire grew cold in time of security; I trust weshall never find it so in our experience!"

"Oh, " cried Morrel, almost tempted to throw himself on his knees beforeNoirtier and Valentine, and to adore them as two superior beings, "whathave I ever done in my life to merit such unbounded happiness?"

"Until that time, " continued the young girl in a calm and self-possessedtone of voice, "we will conform to circumstances, and be guided by thewishes of our friends, so long as those wishes do not tend finally toseparate us; in a word, and I repeat it, because it expresses all I wishto convey, --we will wait. "

"And I swear to make all the sacrifices which this word imposes, sir, "said Morrel, "not only with resignation, but with cheerfulness. "

"Therefore, " continued Valentine, looking playfully at Maximilian, "nomore inconsiderate actions--no more rash projects; for you surelywould not wish to compromise one who from this day regards herself asdestined, honorably and happily, to bear your name?"

Morrel looked obedience to her commands. Noirtier regarded the loverswith a look of ineffable tenderness, while Barrois, who had remained inthe room in the character of a man privileged to know everything thatpassed, smiled on the youthful couple as he wiped the perspiration fromhis bald forehead. "How hot you look, my good Barrois, " said Valentine.



"Ah, I have been running very fast, mademoiselle, but I must do M. Morrel the justice to say that he ran still faster. " Noirtier directedtheir attention to a waiter, on which was placed a decanter containinglemonade and a glass. The decanter was nearly full, with the exceptionof a little, which had been already drunk by M. Noirtier.

"Come, Barrois, " said the young girl, "take some of this lemonade; I seeyou are coveting a good draught of it. "

"The fact is, mademoiselle, " said Barrois, "I am dying with thirst, andsince you are so kind as to offer it me, I cannot say I should at allobject to drinking your health in a glass of it. "

"Take some, then, and come back immediately. " Barrois took away thewaiter, and hardly was he outside the door, which in his haste he forgotto shut, than they saw him throw back his head and empty to the verydregs the glass which Valentine had filled. Valentine and Morrel wereexchanging their adieux in the presence of Noirtier when a ring washeard at the door-bell. It was the signal of a visit. Valentine lookedat her watch.

"It is past noon, " said she, "and to-day is Saturday; I dare say itis the doctor, grandpapa. " Noirtier looked his conviction that shewas right in her supposition. "He will come in here, and M. Morrel hadbetter go, --do you not think so, grandpapa?"

"Yes, " signed the old man.

"Barrois, " cried Valentine, "Barrois!"

"I am coming, mademoiselle, " replied he. "Barrois will open the door foryou, " said Valentine, addressing Morrel. "And now remember one thing, Monsieur Officer, that my grandfather commands you not to take any rashor ill-advised step which would be likely to compromise our happiness. "

"I promised him to wait, " replied Morrel; "and I will wait. "

At this moment Barrois entered. "Who rang?" asked Valentine.

"Doctor d'Avrigny, " said Barrois, staggering as if he would fall.

"What is the matter, Barrois?" said Valentine. The old man did notanswer, but looked at his master with wild staring eyes, while withhis cramped hand he grasped a piece of furniture to enable him to standupright. "He is going to fall!" cried Morrel. The rigors which hadattacked Barrois gradually increased, the features of the face becamequite altered, and the convulsive movement of the muscles appeared toindicate the approach of a most serious nervous disorder. Noirtier, seeing Barrois in this pitiable condition, showed by his looks all thevarious emotions of sorrow and sympathy which can animate the heart ofman. Barrois made some steps towards his master.

"Ah, sir, " said he, "tell me what is the matter with me. I amsuffering--I cannot see. A thousand fiery darts are piercing my brain. Ah, don't touch me, pray don't. " By this time his haggard eyes had theappearance of being ready to start from their sockets; his head fellback, and the lower extremities of the body began to stiffen. Valentineuttered a cry of horror; Morrel took her in his arms, as if to defendher from some unknown danger. "M. D'Avrigny, M. D'Avrigny, " cried she, in a stifled voice. "Help, help!" Barrois turned round and with a greateffort stumbled a few steps, then fell at the feet of Noirtier, andresting his hand on the knee of the invalid, exclaimed, "My master, mygood master!" At this moment M. De Villefort, attracted by the noise, appeared on the threshold. Morrel relaxed his hold of Valentine, andretreating to a distant corner of the room remained half hidden behinda curtain. Pale as if he had been gazing on a serpent, he fixed histerrified eye on the agonized sufferer.

Noirtier, burning with impatience and terror, was in despair at hisutter inability to help his old domestic, whom he regarded more in thelight of a friend than a servant. One might by the fearful swelling ofthe veins of his forehead and the contraction of the muscles round theeye, trace the terrible conflict which was going on between the livingenergetic mind and the inanimate and helpless body. Barrois, hisfeatures convulsed, his eyes suffused with blood, and his head thrownback, was lying at full length, beating the floor with his hands, whilehis legs had become so stiff, that they looked as if they would breakrather than bend. A slight appearance of foam was visible around themouth, and he breathed painfully, and with extreme difficulty.

Villefort seemed stupefied with astonishment, and remained gazingintently on the scene before him without uttering a word. He had notseen Morrel. After a moment of dumb contemplation, during which his facebecame pale and his hair seemed to stand on end, he sprang towards thedoor, crying out, "Doctor, doctor! come instantly, pray come!"

"Madame, madame!" cried Valentine, calling her step-mother, and runningup-stairs to meet her; "come quick, quick!--and bring your bottle ofsmelling-salts with you. "

"What is the matter?" said Madame de Villefort in a harsh andconstrained tone.

"Oh, come, come!"

"But where is the doctor?" exclaimed Villefort; "where is he?" Madame deVillefort now deliberately descended the staircase. In one hand she heldher handkerchief, with which she appeared to be wiping her face, and inthe other a bottle of English smelling-salts. Her first look on enteringthe room was at Noirtier, whose face, independent of the emotion whichsuch a scene could not fail of producing, proclaimed him to be inpossession of his usual health; her second glance was at the dying man. She turned pale, and her eye passed quickly from the servant and restedon the master.

"In the name of heaven, madame, " said Villefort, "where is the doctor?He was with you just now. You see this is a fit of apoplexy, and hemight be saved if he could but be bled!"

"Has he eaten anything lately?" asked Madame de Villefort, eludingher husband's question. "Madame, " replied Valentine, "he has not evenbreakfasted. He has been running very fast on an errand with which mygrandfather charged him, and when he returned, took nothing but a glassof lemonade. "

"Ah, " said Madame de Villefort, "why did he not take wine? Lemonade wasa very bad thing for him. "

"Grandpapa's bottle of lemonade was standing just by his side; poorBarrois was very thirsty, and was thankful to drink anything he couldfind. " Madame de Villefort started. Noirtier looked at her with a glanceof the most profound scrutiny. "He has such a short neck, " said she. "Madame, " said Villefort, "I ask where is M. D'Avrigny? In God's nameanswer me!"

"He is with Edward, who is not quite well, " replied Madame de Villefort, no longer being able to avoid answering.

Villefort rushed up-stairs to fetch him. "Take this, " said Madame deVillefort, giving her smelling-bottle to Valentine. "They will, nodoubt, bleed him; therefore I will retire, for I cannot endure the sightof blood;" and she followed her husband up-stairs. Morrel now emergedfrom his hiding-place, where he had remained quite unperceived, sogreat had been the general confusion. "Go away as quick as you can, Maximilian, " said Valentine, "and stay till I send for you. Go. "

Morrel looked towards Noirtier for permission to retire. The old man, who had preserved all his usual coolness, made a sign to him to do so. The young man pressed Valentine's hand to his lips, and then left thehouse by a back staircase. At the same moment that he quitted the room, Villefort and the doctor entered by an opposite door. Barrois was nowshowing signs of returning consciousness. The crisis seemed past, alow moaning was heard, and he raised himself on one knee. D'Avrigny andVillefort laid him on a couch. "What do you prescribe, doctor?" demandedVillefort. "Give me some water and ether. You have some in the house, have you not?"

"Yes. "

"Send for some oil of turpentine and tartar emetic. "

Villefort immediately despatched a messenger. "And now let every oneretire. "

"Must I go too?" asked Valentine timidly.

"Yes, mademoiselle, you especially, " replied the doctor abruptly.

Valentine looked at M. D'Avrigny with astonishment, kissed hergrandfather on the forehead, and left the room. The doctor closed thedoor after her with a gloomy air. "Look, look, doctor, " said Villefort, "he is quite coming round again; I really do not think, after all, it isanything of consequence. " M. D'Avrigny answered by a melancholy smile. "How do you feel, Barrois?" asked he. "A little better, sir. "

"Will you drink some of this ether and water?"

"I will try; but don't touch me. "

"Why not?"

"Because I feel that if you were only to touch me with the tip of yourfinger the fit would return. "

"Drink. "

Barrois took the glass, and, raising it to his purple lips, took abouthalf of the liquid offered him. "Where do you suffer?" asked the doctor.

"Everywhere. I feel cramps over my whole body. "

"Do you find any dazzling sensation before the eyes?"

"Yes. "

"Any noise in the ears?"

"Frightful. "

"When did you first feel that?"

"Just now. "

"Suddenly?"

"Yes, like a clap of thunder. "

"Did you feel nothing of it yesterday or the day before?"

"Nothing. "

"No drowsiness?"

"None. "

"What have you eaten to-day?"

"I have eaten nothing; I only drank a glass of my master'slemonade--that's all;" and Barrois turned towards Noirtier, who, immovably fixed in his arm-chair, was contemplating this terrible scenewithout allowing a word or a movement to escape him.

"Where is this lemonade?" asked the doctor eagerly.

"Down-stairs in the decanter. "

"Whereabouts downstairs?"

"In the kitchen. "

"Shall I go and fetch it, doctor?" inquired Villefort.

"No, stay here and try to make Barrois drink the rest of this glass ofether and water. I will go myself and fetch the lemonade. " D'Avrignybounded towards the door, flew down the back staircase, and almostknocked down Madame de Villefort, in his haste, who was herself goingdown to the kitchen. She cried out, but d'Avrigny paid no attention toher; possessed with but one idea, he cleared the last four steps witha bound, and rushed into the kitchen, where he saw the decanter aboutthree parts empty still standing on the waiter, where it had been left. He darted upon it as an eagle would seize upon its prey. Panting withloss of breath, he returned to the room he had just left. Madame deVillefort was slowly ascending the steps which led to her room. "Is thisthe decanter you spoke of?" asked d'Avrigny.

"Yes, doctor. "

"Is this the same lemonade of which you partook?"

"I believe so. "

"What did it taste like?"

"It had a bitter taste. "

The doctor poured some drops of the lemonade into the palm of his hand, put his lips to it, and after having rinsed his mouth as a man does whenhe is tasting wine, he spat the liquor into the fireplace.

"It is no doubt the same, " said he. "Did you drink some too, M. Noirtier?"

"Yes. "

"And did you also discover a bitter taste?"

"Yes. "

"Oh, doctor, " cried Barrois, "the fit is coming on again. Oh, dosomething for me. " The doctor flew to his patient. "That emetic, Villefort--see if it is coming. " Villefort sprang into the passage, exclaiming, "The emetic! the emetic!--is it come yet?" No one answered. The most profound terror reigned throughout the house. "If I hadanything by means of which I could inflate the lungs, " said d'Avrigny, looking around him, "perhaps I might prevent suffocation. But there isnothing which would do--nothing!" "Oh, sir, " cried Barrois, "are yougoing to let me die without help? Oh, I am dying! Oh, save me!"

"A pen, a pen!" said the doctor. There was one lying on the table; heendeavored to introduce it into the mouth of the patient, who, in themidst of his convulsions, was making vain attempts to vomit; but thejaws were so clinched that the pen could not pass them. This secondattack was much more violent than the first, and he had slipped from thecouch to the ground, where he was writhing in agony. The doctor left himin this paroxysm, knowing that he could do nothing to alleviate it, and, going up to Noirtier, said abruptly, "How do you find yourself?--well?"

"Yes. "

"Have you any weight on the chest; or does your stomach feel light andcomfortable--eh?"

"Yes. "

"Then you feel pretty much as you generally do after you have had thedose which I am accustomed to give you every Sunday?"

"Yes. "

"Did Barrois make your lemonade?"

"Yes. "

"Was it you who asked him to drink some of it?"

"No. "

"Was it M. De Villefort?"

"No. "

"Madame?"

"No. "

"It was your granddaughter, then, was it not?"

"Yes. " A groan from Barrois, accompanied by a yawn which seemed to crackthe very jawbones, attracted the attention of M. D'Avrigny; he left M. Noirtier, and returned to the sick man. "Barrois, " said the doctor, "canyou speak?" Barrois muttered a few unintelligible words. "Try and makean effort to do so, my good man. " said d'Avrigny. Barrois reopened hisbloodshot eyes. "Who made the lemonade?"

"I did. "

"Did you bring it to your master directly it was made?"

"No. "

"You left it somewhere, then, in the meantime?"

"Yes; I left it in the pantry, because I was called away. "

"Who brought it into this room, then?"

"Mademoiselle Valentine. " D'Avrigny struck his forehead with his hand. "Gracious heaven, " exclaimed he. "Doctor, doctor!" cried Barrois, whofelt another fit coming.

"Will they never bring that emetic?" asked the doctor.

"Here is a glass with one already prepared, " said Villefort, enteringthe room.

"Who prepared it?"

"The chemist who came here with me. "

"Drink it, " said the doctor to Barrois. "Impossible, doctor; it istoo late; my throat is closing up. I am choking! Oh, my heart! Ah, myhead!--Oh, what agony!--Shall I suffer like this long?"

"No, no, friend, " replied the doctor, "you will soon cease to suffer. "

"Ah, I understand you, " said the unhappy man. "My God, have mercy uponme!" and, uttering a fearful cry, Barrois fell back as if he had beenstruck by lightning. D'Avrigny put his hand to his heart, and placed aglass before his lips.

"Well?" said Villefort. "Go to the kitchen and get me some syrup ofviolets. " Villefort went immediately. "Do not be alarmed, M. Noirtier, "said d'Avrigny; "I am going to take my patient into the next room tobleed him; this sort of attack is very frightful to witness. "

And taking Barrois under the arms, he dragged him into an adjoiningroom; but almost immediately he returned to fetch the lemonade. Noirtierclosed his right eye. "You want Valentine, do you not? I will tell themto send her to you. " Villefort returned, and d'Avrigny met him inthe passage. "Well, how is he now?" asked he. "Come in here, " saidd'Avrigny, and he took him into the chamber where the sick man lay. "Ishe still in a fit?" said the procureur.

"He is dead. "

Villefort drew back a few steps, and, clasping his hands, exclaimed, with real amazement and sympathy, "Dead?--and so soon too!"

"Yes, it is very soon, " said the doctor, looking at the corpse beforehim; "but that ought not to astonish you; Monsieur and Madame deSaint-Meran died as soon. People die very suddenly in your house, M. DeVillefort. "

"What?" cried the magistrate, with an accent of horror andconsternation, "are you still harping on that terrible idea?"

"Still, sir; and I shall always do so, " replied d'Avrigny, "for it hasnever for one instant ceased to retain possession of my mind; and thatyou may be quite sure I am not mistaken this time, listen well to what Iam going to say, M. De Villefort. " The magistrate trembled convulsively. "There is a poison which destroys life almost without leaving anyperceptible traces. I know it well; I have studied it in all its formsand in the effects which it produces. I recognized the presence ofthis poison in the case of poor Barrois as well as in that of Madame deSaint-Meran. There is a way of detecting its presence. It restores theblue color of litmus-paper reddened by an acid, and it turns syrup ofviolets green. We have no litmus-paper, but, see, here they come withthe syrup of violets. "

The doctor was right; steps were heard in the passage. M. D'Avrignyopened the door, and took from the hands of the chambermaid a cup whichcontained two or three spoonfuls of the syrup, he then carefully closedthe door. "Look, " said he to the procureur, whose heart beat so loudlythat it might almost be heard, "here is in this cup some syrup ofviolets, and this decanter contains the remainder of the lemonade ofwhich M. Noirtier and Barrois partook. If the lemonade be pure andinoffensive, the syrup will retain its color; if, on the contrary, the lemonade be drugged with poison, the syrup will become green. Lookclosely!"

The doctor then slowly poured some drops of the lemonade from thedecanter into the cup, and in an instant a light cloudy sediment beganto form at the bottom of the cup; this sediment first took a blue shade, then from the color of sapphire it passed to that of opal, and from opalto emerald. Arrived at this last hue, it changed no more. The result ofthe experiment left no doubt whatever on the mind.

"The unfortunate Barrois has been poisoned, " said d'Avrigny, "and I willmaintain this assertion before God and man. " Villefort said nothing, buthe clasped his hands, opened his haggard eyes, and, overcome with hisemotion, sank into a chair.

Chapter 80. The Accusation.

M. D'Avrigny soon restored the magistrate to consciousness, who hadlooked like a second corpse in that chamber of death. "Oh, death is inmy house!" cried Villefort.

"Say, rather, crime!" replied the doctor.

"M. D'Avrigny, " cried Villefort, "I cannot tell you all I feel at thismoment, --terror, grief, madness. "

"Yes, " said M. D'Avrigny, with an imposing calmness, "but I think it isnow time to act. I think it is time to stop this torrent of mortality. Ican no longer bear to be in possession of these secrets without the hopeof seeing the victims and society generally revenged. " Villefort cast agloomy look around him. "In my house, " murmured he, "in my house!"

"Come, magistrate, " said M. D'Avrigny, "show yourself a man; as aninterpreter of the law, do honor to your profession by sacrificing yourselfish interests to it. "

"You make me shudder, doctor. Do you talk of a sacrifice?"

"I do. "

"Do you then suspect any one?"

"I suspect no one; death raps at your door--it enters--it goes, notblindfolded, but circumspectly, from room to room. Well, I follow itscourse, I track its passage; I adopt the wisdom of the ancients, andfeel my way, for my friendship for your family and my respect for youare as a twofold bandage over my eyes; well"--

"Oh, speak, speak, doctor; I shall have courage. "

"Well, sir, you have in your establishment, or in your family, perhaps, one of the frightful monstrosities of which each century produces onlyone. Locusta and Agrippina, living at the same time, were an exception, and proved the determination of providence to effect the entire ruin ofthe Roman empire, sullied by so many crimes. Brunehilde and Fredegondewere the results of the painful struggle of civilization in its infancy, when man was learning to control mind, were it even by an emissary fromthe realms of darkness. All these women had been, or were, beautiful. The same flower of innocence had flourished, or was still flourishing, on their brow, that is seen on the brow of the culprit in your house. "Villefort shrieked, clasped his hands, and looked at the doctor with asupplicating air. But the latter went on without pity:--

"'Seek whom the crime will profit, ' says an axiom of jurisprudence. "

"Doctor, " cried Villefort, "alas, doctor, how often has man's justicebeen deceived by those fatal words. I know not why, but I feel that thiscrime"--

"You acknowledge, then, the existence of the crime?"

"Yes, I see too plainly that it does exist. But it seems that it isintended to affect me personally. I fear an attack myself, after allthese disasters. "

"Oh, man, " murmured d'Avrigny, "the most selfish of all animals, themost personal of all creatures, who believes the earth turns, the sunshines, and death strikes for him alone, --an ant cursing God from thetop of a blade of grass! And have those who have lost their lives lostnothing?--M. De Saint-Meran, Madame de Saint-Meran, M. Noirtier"--

"How? M. Noirtier?"

"Yes; think you it was the poor servant's life was coveted? No, no;like Shakespeare's 'Polonius, ' he died for another. It was Noirtier thelemonade was intended for--it is Noirtier, logically speaking, who drankit. The other drank it only by accident, and, although Barrois is dead, it was Noirtier whose death was wished for. "

"But why did it not kill my father?"

"I told you one evening in the garden after Madame de Saint-Meran'sdeath--because his system is accustomed to that very poison, and thedose was trifling to him, which would be fatal to another; because noone knows, not even the assassin, that, for the last twelve months, Ihave given M. Noirtier brucine for his paralytic affection, while theassassin is not ignorant, for he has proved that brucine is a violentpoison. "

"Oh, have pity--have pity!" murmured Villefort, wringing his hands.

"Follow the culprit's steps; he first kills M. De Saint-Meran"--

"O doctor!"

"I would swear to it; what I heard of his symptoms agrees too well withwhat I have seen in the other cases. " Villefort ceased to contend; heonly groaned. "He first kills M. De Saint-Meran, " repeated the doctor, "then Madame de Saint-Meran, --a double fortune to inherit. " Villefortwiped the perspiration from his forehead. "Listen attentively. "

"Alas, " stammered Villefort, "I do not lose a single word. "

"M. Noirtier, " resumed M. D'Avrigny in the same pitiless tone, --"M. Noirtier had once made a will against you--against your family--in favorof the poor, in fact; M. Noirtier is spared, because nothing is expectedfrom him. But he has no sooner destroyed his first will and made asecond, than, for fear he should make a third, he is struck down. Thewill was made the day before yesterday, I believe; you see there hasbeen no time lost. "

"Oh, mercy, M. D'Avrigny!"

"No mercy, sir! The physician has a sacred mission on earth; andto fulfil it he begins at the source of life, and goes down to themysterious darkness of the tomb. When crime has been committed, andGod, doubtless in anger, turns away his face, it is for the physician tobring the culprit to justice. "

"Have mercy on my child, sir, " murmured Villefort.

"You see it is yourself who have first named her--you, her father. "

"Have pity on Valentine! Listen--it is impossible! I would as willinglyaccuse myself! Valentine, whose heart is pure as a diamond or a lily. "

"No pity, procureur; the crime is fragrant. Mademoiselle herself packedall the medicines which were sent to M. De Saint-Meran; and M. DeSaint-Meran is dead. Mademoiselle de Villefort prepared all the coolingdraughts which Madame de Saint-Meran took, and Madame de Saint-Meran isdead. Mademoiselle de Villefort took from the hands of Barrois, who wassent out, the lemonade which M. Noirtier had every morning, and he hasescaped by a miracle. Mademoiselle de Villefort is the culprit--she isthe poisoner! To you, as the king's attorney, I denounce Mademoiselle deVillefort, do your duty. "

"Doctor, I resist no longer--I can no longer defend myself--I believeyou; but, for pity's sake, spare my life, my honor!"

"M. De Villefort, " replied the doctor, with increased vehemence, "thereare occasions when I dispense with all foolish human circumspection. If your daughter had committed only one crime, and I saw her meditatinganother, I would say 'Warn her, punish her, let her pass the remainderof her life in a convent, weeping and praying. ' If she had committedtwo crimes, I would say, 'Here, M. De Villefort, is a poison that theprisoner is not acquainted with, --one that has no known antidote, quickas thought, rapid as lightning, mortal as the thunderbolt; give her thatpoison, recommending her soul to God, and save your honor and your life, for it is yours she aims at; and I can picture her approaching yourpillow with her hypocritical smiles and her sweet exhortations. Woe toyou, M. De Villefort, if you do not strike first!' This is what I wouldsay had she only killed two persons but she has seen three deaths, --hascontemplated three murdered persons, --has knelt by three corpses! To thescaffold with the poisoner--to the scaffold! Do you talk of your honor?Do what I tell you, and immortality awaits you!"

Villefort fell on his knees. "Listen, " said he; "I have not the strengthof mind you have, or rather that which you would not have, if insteadof my daughter Valentine your daughter Madeleine were concerned. " Thedoctor turned pale. "Doctor, every son of woman is born to suffer and todie; I am content to suffer and to await death. "

"Beware, " said M. D'Avrigny, "it may come slowly; you will see itapproach after having struck your father, your wife, perhaps your son. "

Villefort, suffocating, pressed the doctor's arm. "Listen, " cried he;"pity me--help me! No, my daughter is not guilty. If you drag usboth before a tribunal I will still say, 'No, my daughter is notguilty;--there is no crime in my house. I will not acknowledge a crimein my house; for when crime enters a dwelling, it is like death--it doesnot come alone. ' Listen. What does it signify to you if I am murdered?Are you my friend? Are you a man? Have you a heart? No, you are aphysician! Well, I tell you I will not drag my daughter before atribunal, and give her up to the executioner! The bare idea wouldkill me--would drive me like a madman to dig my heart out with myfinger-nails! And if you were mistaken, doctor--if it were not mydaughter--if I should come one day, pale as a spectre, and say to you, 'Assassin, you have killed my child!'--hold--if that should happen, although I am a Christian, M. D'Avrigny, I should kill myself. "

"Well, " said the doctor, after a moment's silence, "I will wait. "Villefort looked at him as if he had doubted his words. "Only, "continued M. D'Avrigny, with a slow and solemn tone, "if any one fallsill in your house, if you feel yourself attacked, do not send for me, for I will come no more. I will consent to share this dreadful secretwith you, but I will not allow shame and remorse to grow and increase inmy conscience, as crime and misery will in your house. "

"Then you abandon me, doctor?"

"Yes, for I can follow you no farther, and I only stop at the foot ofthe scaffold. Some further discovery will be made, which will bring thisdreadful tragedy to a close. Adieu. "

"I entreat you, doctor!"

"All the horrors that disturb my thoughts make your house odious andfatal. Adieu, sir. "

"One word--one single word more, doctor! You go, leaving me in all thehorror of my situation, after increasing it by what you have revealedto me. But what will be reported of the sudden death of the poor oldservant?"

"True, " said M. D'Avrigny; "we will return. " The doctor went out first, followed by M. De Villefort. The terrified servants were on the stairsand in the passage where the doctor would pass. "Sir, " said d'Avrignyto Villefort, so loud that all might hear, "poor Barrois has led toosedentary a life of late; accustomed formerly to ride on horseback, or in the carriage, to the four corners of Europe, the monotonous walkaround that arm-chair has killed him--his blood has thickened. He wasstout, had a short, thick neck; he was attacked with apoplexy, and I wascalled in too late. By the way, " added he in a low tone, "take care tothrow away that cup of syrup of violets in the ashes. "

The doctor, without shaking hands with Villefort, without adding a wordto what he had said, went out, amid the tears and lamentations of thewhole household. The same evening all Villefort's servants, who hadassembled in the kitchen, and had a long consultation, came totell Madame de Villefort that they wished to leave. No entreaty, noproposition of increased wages, could induce them to remain; to everyargument they replied, "We must go, for death is in this house. " Theyall left, in spite of prayers and entreaties, testifying their regretat leaving so good a master and mistress, and especially MademoiselleValentine, so good, so kind, and so gentle. Villefort looked atValentine as they said this. She was in tears, and, strange as it was, in spite of the emotions he felt at the sight of these tears, he lookedalso at Madame de Villefort, and it appeared to him as if a slightgloomy smile had passed over her thin lips, like a meteor seen passinginauspiciously between two clouds in a stormy sky.

Chapter 81. The Room of the Retired Baker.

The evening of the day on which the Count of Morcerf had left Danglars'house with feelings of shame and anger at the rejection of the projectedalliance, M. Andrea Cavalcanti, with curled hair, mustaches in perfectorder, and white gloves which fitted admirably, had entered thecourtyard of the banker's house in La Chaussee d'Antin. He had not beenmore than ten minutes in the drawing-room before he drew Danglars asideinto the recess of a bow-window, and, after an ingenious preamble, related to him all his anxieties and cares since his noble father'sdeparture. He acknowledged the extreme kindness which had been shownhim by the banker's family, in which he had been received as a son, andwhere, besides, his warmest affections had found an object on whichto centre in Mademoiselle Danglars. Danglars listened with the mostprofound attention; he had expected this declaration for the last two orthree days, and when at last it came his eyes glistened as much asthey had lowered on listening to Morcerf. He would not, however, yieldimmediately to the young man's request, but made a few conscientiousobjections. "Are you not rather young, M. Andrea, to think of marrying?"

"I think not, sir, " replied M. Cavalcanti; "in Italy the nobilitygenerally marry young. Life is so uncertain, that we ought to securehappiness while it is within our reach. "

"Well, sir, " said Danglars, "in case your proposals, which do me honor, are accepted by my wife and daughter, by whom shall the preliminaryarrangements be settled? So important a negotiation should, I think, beconducted by the respective fathers of the young people. "

"Sir, my father is a man of great foresight and prudence. Thinking thatI might wish to settle in France, he left me at his departure, togetherwith the papers establishing my identity, a letter promising, if heapproved of my choice, 150, 000 livres per annum from the day I wasmarried. So far as I can judge, I suppose this to be a quarter of myfather's revenue. "

"I, " said Danglars, "have always intended giving my daughter 500, 000francs as her dowry; she is, besides, my sole heiress. "

"All would then be easily arranged if the baroness and her daughterare willing. We should command an annuity of 175, 000 livres. Supposing, also, I should persuade the marquis to give me my capital, which isnot likely, but still is possible, we would place these two or threemillions in your hands, whose talent might make it realize ten percent. "

"I never give more than four per cent, and generally only three and ahalf; but to my son-in-law I would give five, and we would share theprofit. "

"Very good, father-in-law, " said Cavalcanti, yielding to his low-bornnature, which would escape sometimes through the aristocratic gloss withwhich he sought to conceal it. Correcting himself immediately, he said, "Excuse me, sir; hope alone makes me almost mad, --what will not realitydo?"

"But, " said Danglars, --who, on his part, did not perceive how soonthe conversation, which was at first disinterested, was turning to abusiness transaction, --"there is, doubtless, a part of your fortune yourfather could not refuse you?"

"Which?" asked the young man.

"That you inherit from your mother. "

"Truly, from my mother, Leonora Corsinari. "

"How much may it amount to?"

"Indeed, sir, " said Andrea, "I assure you I have never given the subjecta thought, but I suppose it must have been at least two millions. "Danglars felt as much overcome with joy as the miser who finds a losttreasure, or as the shipwrecked mariner who feels himself on solidground instead of in the abyss which he expected would swallow him up.

"Well, sir, " said Andrea, bowing to the banker respectfully, "may Ihope?"

"You may not only hope, " said Danglars, "but consider it a settledthing, if no obstacle arises on your part. "

"I am, indeed, rejoiced, " said Andrea.

"But, " said Danglars thoughtfully, "how is it that your patron, M. De Monte Cristo, did not make his proposal for you?" Andrea blushedimperceptibly. "I have just left the count, sir, " said he; "he is, doubtless, a delightful man but inconceivably peculiar in his ideas. Heesteems me highly. He even told me he had not the slightest doubtthat my father would give me the capital instead of the interest of myproperty. He has promised to use his influence to obtain it for me; buthe also declared that he never had taken on himself the responsibilityof making proposals for another, and he never would. I must, however, dohim the justice to add that he assured me if ever he had regretted therepugnance he felt to such a step it was on this occasion, because hethought the projected union would be a happy and suitable one. Besides, if he will do nothing officially, he will answer any questions youpropose to him. And now, " continued he, with one of his most charmingsmiles, "having finished talking to the father-in-law, I must addressmyself to the banker. "

"And what may you have to say to him?" said Danglars, laughing in histurn.

"That the day after to-morrow I shall have to draw upon you for aboutfour thousand francs; but the count, expecting my bachelor's revenuecould not suffice for the coming month's outlay, has offered me a draftfor twenty thousand francs. It bears his signature, as you see, which isall-sufficient. "

"Bring me a million such as that, " said Danglars, "I shall be wellpleased, " putting the draft in his pocket. "Fix your own hour forto-morrow, and my cashier shall call on you with a check for eightythousand francs. "

"At ten o'clock then, if you please; I should like it early, as I amgoing into the country to-morrow. "

"Very well, at ten o'clock; you are still at the Hotel des Princes?"

"Yes. "

The following morning, with the banker's usual punctuality, the eightythousand francs were placed in the young man's hands as he was on thepoint of starting, after having left two hundred francs for Caderousse. He went out chiefly to avoid this dangerous enemy, and returned aslate as possible in the evening. But scarcely had he stepped out of hiscarriage when the porter met him with a parcel in his hand. "Sir, " saidhe, "that man has been here. "

"What man?" said Andrea carelessly, apparently forgetting him whom hebut too well recollected.

"Him to whom your excellency pays that little annuity. "

"Oh, " said Andrea, "my father's old servant. Well, you gave him the twohundred francs I had left for him?"

"Yes, your excellency. " Andrea had expressed a wish to be thusaddressed. "But, " continued the porter, "he would not take them. " Andreaturned pale, but as it was dark his pallor was not perceptible. "What?he would not take them?" said he with slight emotion.



"No, he wished to speak to your excellency; I told him you were goneout, and after some dispute he believed me and gave me this letter, which he had brought with him already sealed. "

"Give it me, " said Andrea, and he read by the light of hiscarriage-lamp, --"You know where I live; I expect you tomorrow morning atnine o'clock. "

Andrea examined it carefully, to ascertain if the letter had beenopened, or if any indiscreet eyes had seen its contents; but it wasso carefully folded, that no one could have read it, and the seal wasperfect. "Very well, " said he. "Poor man, he is a worthy creature. "He left the porter to ponder on these words, not knowing which most toadmire, the master or the servant. "Take out the horses quickly, andcome up to me, " said Andrea to his groom. In two seconds the young manhad reached his room and burnt Caderousse's letter. The servant enteredjust as he had finished. "You are about my height, Pierre, " said he.

"I have that honor, your excellency. "

"You had a new livery yesterday?"

"Yes, sir. "

"I have an engagement with a pretty little girl for this evening, and donot wish to be known; lend me your livery till to-morrow. I may sleep, perhaps, at an inn. " Pierre obeyed. Five minutes after, Andrea left thehotel, completely disguised, took a cabriolet, and ordered the driver totake him to the Cheval Rouge, at Picpus. The next morning he left thatinn as he had left the Hotel des Princes, without being noticed, walkeddown the Faubourg St. Antoine, along the boulevard to Rue Menilmontant, and stopping at the door of the third house on the left looked for someone of whom to make inquiry in the porter's absence. "For whom are youlooking, my fine fellow?" asked the fruiteress on the opposite side.

"Monsieur Pailletin, if you please, my good woman, " replied Andrea.

"A retired baker?" asked the fruiteress.

"Exactly. "

"He lives at the end of the yard, on the left, on the third story. "Andrea went as she directed him, and on the third floor he found ahare's paw, which, by the hasty ringing of the bell, it was evident hepulled with considerable ill-temper. A moment after Caderousse's faceappeared at the grating in the door. "Ah, you are punctual, " said he, ashe drew back the door.

"Confound you and your punctuality!" said Andrea, throwing himself intoa chair in a manner which implied that he would rather have flung it atthe head of his host.

"Come, come, my little fellow, don't be angry. See, I have thought aboutyou--look at the good breakfast we are going to have; nothing but whatyou are fond of. " Andrea, indeed, inhaled the scent of something cookingwhich was not unwelcome to him, hungry as he was; it was that mixtureof fat and garlic peculiar to provincial kitchens of an inferior order, added to that of dried fish, and above all, the pungent smell of muskand cloves. These odors escaped from two deep dishes which were coveredand placed on a stove, and from a copper pan placed in an old iron pot. In an adjoining room Andrea saw also a tolerably clean table preparedfor two, two bottles of wine sealed, the one with green, the other withyellow, a supply of brandy in a decanter, and a measure of fruit in acabbage-leaf, cleverly arranged on an earthenware plate.

"What do you think of it, my little fellow?" said Caderousse. "Ay, thatsmells good! You know I used to be a famous cook; do you recollect howyou used to lick your fingers? You were among the first who tasted anyof my dishes, and I think you relished them tolerably. " While speaking, Caderousse went on peeling a fresh supply of onions.

"But, " said Andrea, ill-temperedly, "by my faith, if it was only tobreakfast with you, that you disturbed me, I wish the devil had takenyou!"

"My boy, " said Caderousse sententiously, "one can talk while eating. Andthen, you ungrateful being, you are not pleased to see an old friend?I am weeping with joy. " He was truly crying, but it would have beendifficult to say whether joy or the onions produced the greatest effecton the lachrymal glands of the old inn-keeper of the Pont-du-Gard. "Holdyour tongue, hypocrite, " said Andrea; "you love me!"

"Yes, I do, or may the devil take me. I know it is a weakness, " saidCaderousse, "but it overpowers me. "

"And yet it has not prevented your sending for me to play me sometrick. "

"Come, " said Caderousse, wiping his large knife on his apron, "if I didnot like you, do you think I should endure the wretched life youlead me? Think for a moment. You have your servant's clothes on--youtherefore keep a servant; I have none, and am obliged to prepare my ownmeals. You abuse my cookery because you dine at the table d'hote ofthe Hotel des Princes, or the Cafe de Paris. Well, I too could keep aservant; I too could have a tilbury; I too could dine where I like; butwhy do I not? Because I would not annoy my little Benedetto. Come, justacknowledge that I could, eh?" This address was accompanied by a lookwhich was by no means difficult to understand. "Well, " said Andrea, "admitting your love, why do you want me to breakfast with you?"

"That I may have the pleasure of seeing you, my little fellow. "

"What is the use of seeing me after we have made all our arrangements?"

"Eh, dear friend, " said Caderousse, "are wills ever made withoutcodicils? But you first came to breakfast, did you not? Well, sit down, and let us begin with these pilchards, and this fresh butter; which Ihave put on some vine-leaves to please you, wicked one. Ah, yes; youlook at my room, my four straw chairs, my images, three francs each. Butwhat do you expect? This is not the Hotel des Princes. "

"Come, you are growing discontented, you are no longer happy; you, whoonly wish to live like a retired baker. " Caderousse sighed. "Well, whathave you to say? you have seen your dream realized. "

"I can still say it is a dream; a retired baker, my poor Benedetto, isrich--he has an annuity. "

"Well, you have an annuity. "

"I have?"

"Yes, since I bring you your two hundred francs. " Caderousse shruggedhis shoulders. "It is humiliating, " said he, "thus to receive moneygiven grudgingly, --an uncertain supply which may soon fail. You see Iam obliged to economize, in case your prosperity should cease. Well, myfriend, fortune is inconstant, as the chaplain of the regiment said. Iknow your prosperity is great, you rascal; you are to marry the daughterof Danglars. "

"What? of Danglars?"

"Yes, to be sure; must I say Baron Danglars? I might as well say CountBenedetto. He was an old friend of mine and if he had not so bad amemory he ought to invite me to your wedding, seeing he came to mine. Yes, yes, to mine; gad, he was not so proud then, --he was an under-clerkto the good M. Morrel. I have dined many times with him and the Count ofMorcerf, so you see I have some high connections and were I to cultivatethem a little, we might meet in the same drawing-rooms. "

"Come, your jealousy represents everything to you in the wrong light. "

"That is all very fine, Benedetto mio, but I know what I am saying. Perhaps I may one day put on my best coat, and presenting myself atthe great gate, introduce myself. Meanwhile let us sit down andeat. " Caderousse set the example and attacked the breakfast with goodappetite, praising each dish he set before his visitor. The latterseemed to have resigned himself; he drew the corks, and partook largelyof the fish with the garlic and fat. "Ah, mate, " said Caderousse, "youare getting on better terms with your old landlord!"

"Faith, yes, " replied Andrea, whose hunger prevailed over every otherfeeling.

"So you like it, you rogue?"

"So much that I wonder how a man who can cook thus can complain of hardliving. "

"Do you see, " said Caderousse, "all my happiness is marred by onethought?"

"What is that?"

"That I am dependent on another, I who have always gained my ownlivelihood honestly. "

"Do not let that disturb you, I have enough for two. "

"No, truly; you may believe me if you will; at the end of every month Iam tormented by remorse. "

"Good Caderousse!"

"So much so, that yesterday I would not take the two hundred francs. "

"Yes, you wished to speak to me; but was it indeed remorse, tell me?"

"True remorse; and, besides, an idea had struck me. " Andrea shuddered;he always did so at Caderousse's ideas. "It is miserable--do yousee?--always to wait till the end of the month. "--"Oh, " said Andreaphilosophically, determined to watch his companion narrowly, "does notlife pass in waiting? Do I, for instance, fare better? Well, I waitpatiently, do I not?"

"Yes; because instead of expecting two hundred wretched francs, youexpect five or six thousand, perhaps ten, perhaps even twelve, for youtake care not to let any one know the utmost. Down there, you always hadlittle presents and Christmas-boxes which you tried to hide from yourpoor friend Caderousse. Fortunately he is a cunning fellow, that friendCaderousse. "

"There you are beginning again to ramble, to talk again and again of thepast! But what is the use of teasing me with going all over that again?"

"Ah, you are only one and twenty, and can forget the past; I am fifty, and am obliged to recollect it. But let us return to business. "

"Yes. "

"I was going to say, if I were in your place"--

"Well. "

"I would realize"--

"How would you realize?"

"I would ask for six months' in advance, under pretence of being able topurchase a farm, then with my six months I would decamp. "

"Well, well, " said Andrea, "that isn't a bad idea. "

"My dear friend, " said Caderousse, "eat of my bread, and take my advice;you will be none the worse off, physically or morally. "

"But, " said Andrea, "why do you not act on the advice you gave me? Whydo you not realize a six months', a year's advance even, and retireto Brussels? Instead of living the retired baker, you might live as abankrupt, using his privileges; that would be very good. "

"But how the devil would you have me retire on twelve hundred francs?"

"Ah, Caderousse, " said Andrea, "how covetous you are! Two months ago youwere dying with hunger. "

"The appetite grows by what it feeds on, " said Caderousse, grinning andshowing his teeth, like a monkey laughing or a tiger growling. "And, "added he, biting off with his large white teeth an enormous mouthful ofbread, "I have formed a plan. " Caderousse's plans alarmed Andrea stillmore than his ideas; ideas were but the germ, the plan was reality. "Letme see your plan; I dare say it is a pretty one. "

"Why not? Who formed the plan by which we left the establishment ofM----! eh? was it not I? and it was no bad one I believe, since here weare!"

"I do not say, " replied Andrea, "that you never make a good one; but letus see your plan. "

"Well, " pursued Caderousse, "can you without expending one sou, put mein the way of getting fifteen thousand francs? No, fifteen thousand arenot enough, --I cannot again become an honest man with less than thirtythousand francs. "

"No, " replied Andrea, dryly, "no, I cannot. "

"I do not think you understand me, " replied Caderousse, calmly; "I saidwithout your laying out a sou. "

"Do you want me to commit a robbery, to spoil all my good fortune--andyours with mine--and both of us to be dragged down there again?"

"It would make very little difference to me, " said Caderousse, "if Iwere retaken, I am a poor creature to live alone, and sometimes pinefor my old comrades; not like you, heartless creature, who would be gladnever to see them again. " Andrea did more than tremble this time, heturned pale.

"Come, Caderousse, no nonsense!" said he.

"Don't alarm yourself, my little Benedetto, but just point out tome some means of gaining those thirty thousand francs without yourassistance, and I will contrive it. "

"Well, I'll see--I'll try to contrive some way, " said Andrea.

"Meanwhile you will raise my monthly allowance to five hundred francs, my little fellow? I have a fancy, and mean to get a housekeeper. "

"Well, you shall have your five hundred francs, " said Andrea; "but it isvery hard for me, my poor Caderousse--you take advantage"--

"Bah, " said Caderousse, "when you have access to countless stores. " Onewould have said Andrea anticipated his companion's words, so did his eyeflash like lightning, but it was but for a moment. "True, " he replied, "and my protector is very kind. "

"That dear protector, " said Caderousse; "and how much does he give youmonthly?"

"Five thousand francs. "

"As many thousands as you give me hundreds! Truly, it is only bastardswho are thus fortunate. Five thousand francs per month! What the devilcan you do with all that?"

"Oh, it is no trouble to spend that; and I am like you, I want capital. "

"Capital?--yes--I understand--every one would like capital. "

"Well, and I shall get it. "

"Who will give it to you--your prince?"

"Yes, my prince. But unfortunately I must wait. "

"You must wait for what?" asked Caderousse.

"For his death. "

"The death of your prince?"

"Yes. "

"How so?"

"Because he has made his will in my favor. "

"Indeed?"

"On my honor. "

"For how much?"

"For five hundred thousand. "

"Only that? It's little enough. "

"But so it is. "

"No it cannot be!"

"Are you my friend, Caderousse?"

"Yes, in life or death. "

"Well, I will tell you a secret. "

"What is it?"

"But remember"--

"Ah, pardieu, mute as a carp. "

"Well, I think"--Andrea stopped and looked around.

"You think? Do not fear; pardieu, we are alone. "

"I think I have discovered my father. "

"Your true father?"

"Yes. "

"Not old Cavalcanti?"

"No, for he has gone again; the true one, as you say. "

"And that father is"--

"Well, Caderousse, it is Monte Cristo. "

"Bah!"

"Yes, you understand, that explains all. He cannot acknowledge meopenly, it appears, but he does it through M. Cavalcanti, and gives himfifty thousand francs for it. "

"Fifty thousand francs for being your father? I would have done it forhalf that, for twenty thousand, for fifteen thousand; why did you notthink of me, ungrateful man?"

"Did I know anything about it, when it was all done when I was downthere?"

"Ah, truly? And you say that by his will"--

"He leaves me five hundred thousand livres. "

"Are you sure of it?"

"He showed it me; but that is not all--there is a codicil, as I saidjust now. "

"Probably. "

"And in that codicil he acknowledges me. "

"Oh, the good father, the brave father, the very honest father!" saidCaderousse, twirling a plate in the air between his two hands.

"Now say if I conceal anything from you?"

"No, and your confidence makes you honorable in my opinion; and yourprincely father, is he rich, very rich?"

"Yes, he is that; he does not himself know the amount of his fortune. "

"Is it possible?"

"It is evident enough to me, who am always at his house. The other daya banker's clerk brought him fifty thousand francs in a portfolio aboutthe size of your plate; yesterday his banker brought him a hundredthousand francs in gold. " Caderousse was filled with wonder; the youngman's words sounded to him like metal, and he thought he could hear therushing of cascades of louis. "And you go into that house?" cried hebriskly.

"When I like. "

Caderousse was thoughtful for a moment. It was easy to perceive he wasrevolving some unfortunate idea in his mind. Then suddenly, --"How Ishould like to see all that, " cried he; "how beautiful it must be!"

"It is, in fact, magnificent, " said Andrea.

"And does he not live in the Champs-Elysees?"

"Yes, No. 30. "

"Ah, " said Caderousse, "No. 30. "

"Yes, a fine house standing alone, between a court-yard and agarden, --you must know it. "

"Possibly; but it is not the exterior I care for, it is the interior. What beautiful furniture there must be in it!"

"Have you ever seen the Tuileries?"

"No. "

"Well, it surpasses that. "

"It must be worth one's while to stoop, Andrea, when that good M. MonteCristo lets fall his purse. "

"It is not worth while to wait for that, " said Andrea; "money is asplentiful in that house as fruit in an orchard. "

"But you should take me there one day with you. "

"How can I? On what plea?"

"You are right; but you have made my mouth water. I must absolutely seeit; I shall find a way. "

"No nonsense, Caderousse!"

"I will offer myself as floor-polisher. "

"The rooms are all carpeted. "

"Well, then, I must be contented to imagine it. "

"That is the best plan, believe me. "

"Try, at least, to give me an idea of what it is. "

"How can I?"

"Nothing is easier. Is it large?"

"Middling. "

"How is it arranged?"

"Faith, I should require pen, ink, and paper to make a plan. "

"They are all here, " said Caderousse, briskly. He fetched from anold secretary a sheet of white paper and pen and ink. "Here, " saidCaderousse, "draw me all that on the paper, my boy. " Andrea took the penwith an imperceptible smile and began. "The house, as I said, is betweenthe court and the garden; in this way, do you see?" Andrea drew thegarden, the court and the house.

"High walls?"

"Not more than eight or ten feet. "

"That is not prudent, " said Caderousse.

"In the court are orange-trees in pots, turf, and clumps of flowers. "

"And no steel-traps?"

"No. "

"The stables?"

"Are on either side of the gate, which you see there. " And Andreacontinued his plan.

"Let us see the ground floor, " said Caderousse.

"On the ground-floor, dining-room, two drawing-rooms, billiard-room, staircase in the hall, and a little back staircase. "

"Windows?"

"Magnificent windows, so beautiful, so large, that I believe a man ofyour size should pass through each frame. "

"Why the devil have they any stairs with such windows?"

"Luxury has everything. "

"But shutters?"

"Yes, but they are never used. That Count of Monte Cristo is anoriginal, who loves to look at the sky even at night. "

"And where do the servants sleep?"

"Oh, they have a house to themselves. Picture to yourself a prettycoach-house at the right-hand side where the ladders are kept. Well, over that coach-house are the servants' rooms, with bells correspondingwith the different apartments. "

"Ah, diable--bells did you say?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing! I only say they cost a load of money to hang, and what isthe use of them, I should like to know?"

"There used to be a dog let loose in the yard at night, but it has beentaken to the house at Auteuil, to that you went to, you know. "

"Yes. "

"I was saying to him only yesterday, 'You are imprudent, Monsieur Count;for when you go to Auteuil and take your servants the house is leftunprotected. ' 'Well, ' said he, 'what next?' 'Well, next, some day youwill be robbed. '"

"What did he answer?"

"He quietly said, 'What do I care if I am?'"

"Andrea, he has some secretary with a spring. "

"How do you know?"

"Yes, which catches the thief in a trap and plays a tune. I was toldthere were such at the last exhibition. "

"He has simply a mahogany secretary, in which the key is always kept. "

"And he is not robbed?"

"No; his servants are all devoted to him. "

"There ought to be some money in that secretary?"

"There may be. No one knows what there is. "

"And where is it?"

"On the first floor. "

"Sketch me the plan of that floor, as you have done of the ground floor, my boy. "

"That is very simple. " Andrea took the pen. "On the first story, do yousee, there is the anteroom and the drawing-room; to the right of thedrawing-room, a library and a study; to the left, a bedroom and adressing-room. The famous secretary is in the dressing-room. "

"Is there a window in the dressing-room?"

"Two, --one here and one there. " Andrea sketched two windows in the room, which formed an angle on the plan, and appeared as a small square addedto the rectangle of the bedroom. Caderousse became thoughtful. "Does heoften go to Auteuil?" added he.

"Two or three times a week. To-morrow, for instance, he is going tospend the day and night there. "

"Are you sure of it?"

"He has invited me to dine there. "

"There's a life for you, " said Caderousse; "a town house and a countryhouse. "

"That is what it is to be rich. "

"And shall you dine there?"

"Probably. "

"When you dine there, do you sleep there?"

"If I like; I am at home there. " Caderousse looked at the young man, asif to get at the truth from the bottom of his heart. But Andrea drewa cigar-case from his pocket, took a Havana, quietly lit it, and begansmoking. "When do you want your twelve hundred francs?" said he toCaderousse.

"Now, if you have them. " Andrea took five and twenty louis from hispocket.

"Yellow boys?" said Caderousse; "no, I thank you. "

"Oh, you despise them. "

"On the contrary, I esteem them, but will not have them. "

"You can change them, idiot; gold is worth five sous. "

"Exactly; and he who changes them will follow friend Caderousse, layhands on him, and demand what farmers pay him their rent in gold. Nononsense, my good fellow; silver simply, round coins with the head ofsome monarch or other on them. Anybody may possess a five-franc piece. "

"But do you suppose I carry five hundred francs about with me? I shouldwant a porter. "

"Well, leave them with your porter; he is to be trusted. I will call forthem. "

"To-day?"

"No, to-morrow; I shall not have time to day. "

"Well, to-morrow I will leave them when I go to Auteuil. "

"May I depend on it?"

"Certainly. "

"Because I shall secure my housekeeper on the strength of it. "

"Now see here, will that be all? Eh? And will you not torment me anymore?"

"Never. " Caderousse had become so gloomy that Andrea feared he should beobliged to notice the change. He redoubled his gayety and carelessness. "How sprightly you are, " said Caderousse; "One would say you werealready in possession of your property. "

"No, unfortunately; but when I do obtain it"--

"Well?"

"I shall remember old friends, I can tell you that. "

"Yes, since you have such a good memory. "

"What do you want? It looks as if you were trying to fleece me?"

"I? What an idea! I, who am going to give you another piece of goodadvice. "

"What is it?"

"To leave behind you the diamond you have on your finger. We shall bothget into trouble. You will ruin both yourself and me by your folly. "

"How so?" said Andrea.

"How? You put on a livery, you disguise yourself as a servant, and yetkeep a diamond on your finger worth four or five thousand francs. "

"You guess well. "

"I know something of diamonds; I have had some. "

"You do well to boast of it, " said Andrea, who, without becoming angry, as Caderousse feared, at this new extortion, quietly resigned the ring. Caderousse looked so closely at it that Andrea well knew that he wasexamining to see if all the edges were perfect.

"It is a false diamond, " said Caderousse.

"You are joking now, " replied Andrea.

"Do not be angry, we can try it. " Caderousse went to the window, touchedthe glass with it, and found it would cut.

"Confiteor, " said Caderousse, putting the diamond on his little finger;"I was mistaken; but those thieves of jewellers imitate so well that itis no longer worth while to rob a jeweller's shop--it is another branchof industry paralyzed. "

"Have you finished?" said Andrea, --"do you want anything more?--will youhave my waistcoat or my hat? Make free, now you have begun. "

"No; you are, after all, a good companion; I will not detain you, andwill try to cure myself of my ambition. "

"But take care the same thing does not happen to you in selling thediamond you feared with the gold. "

"I shall not sell it--do not fear. "

"Not at least till the day after to-morrow, " thought the young man.

"Happy rogue, " said Caderousse; "you are going to find your servants, your horses, your carriage, and your betrothed!"

"Yes, " said Andrea.

"Well, I hope you will make a handsome wedding-present the day you marryMademoiselle Danglars. "

"I have already told you it is a fancy you have taken in your head. "

"What fortune has she?"

"But I tell you"--

"A million?" Andrea shrugged his shoulders.

"Let it be a million, " said Caderousse; "you can never have so much as Iwish you. "

"Thank you, " said the young man.

"Oh, I wish it you with all my heart!" added Caderousse with his hoarselaugh. "Stop, let me show you the way. "

"It is not worth while. "

"Yes, it is. "

"Why?"

"Because there is a little secret, a precaution I thought it desirableto take, one of Huret & Fitchet's locks, revised and improved byGaspard Caderousse; I will manufacture you a similar one when you are acapitalist. "

"Thank you, " said Andrea; "I will let you know a week beforehand. " Theyparted. Caderousse remained on the landing until he had not only seenAndrea go down the three stories, but also cross the court. Then hereturned hastily, shut his door carefully, and began to study, like aclever architect, the plan Andrea had left him.

"Dear Benedetto, " said he, "I think he will not be sorry to inherit hisfortune, and he who hastens the day when he can touch his five hundredthousand will not be his worst friend. "

Chapter 82. The Burglary.

The day following that on which the conversation we have related tookplace, the Count of Monte Cristo set out for Auteuil, accompanied byAli and several attendants, and also taking with him some horses whosequalities he was desirous of ascertaining. He was induced to undertakethis journey, of which the day before he had not even thought and whichhad not occurred to Andrea either, by the arrival of Bertuccio fromNormandy with intelligence respecting the house and sloop. The house wasready, and the sloop which had arrived a week before lay at anchor in asmall creek with her crew of six men, who had observed all the requisiteformalities and were ready again to put to sea.

The count praised Bertuccio's zeal, and ordered him to prepare for aspeedy departure, as his stay in France would not be prolonged more thana month. "Now, " said he, "I may require to go in one night from Paris toTreport; let eight fresh horses be in readiness on the road, which willenable me to go fifty leagues in ten hours. "

"Your highness had already expressed that wish, " said Bertuccio, "andthe horses are ready. I have bought them, and stationed them myself atthe most desirable posts, that is, in villages, where no one generallystops. "

"That's well, " said Monte Cristo; "I remain here a day or two--arrangeaccordingly. " As Bertuccio was leaving the room to give the requisiteorders, Baptistin opened the door: he held a letter on a silver waiter.

"What are you doing here?" asked the count, seeing him covered withdust; "I did not send for you, I think?"

Baptistin, without answering, approached the count, and presented theletter. "Important and urgent, " said he. The count opened the letter, and read:--

"M. De Monte Cristo is apprised that this night a man will enter hishouse in the Champs-Elysees with the intention of carrying off somepapers supposed to be in the secretary in the dressing-room. The count'swell-known courage will render unnecessary the aid of the police, whoseinterference might seriously affect him who sends this advice. Thecount, by any opening from the bedroom, or by concealing himself inthe dressing-room, would be able to defend his property himself. Manyattendants or apparent precautions would prevent the villain fromthe attempt, and M. De Monte Cristo would lose the opportunity ofdiscovering an enemy whom chance has revealed to him who now sends thiswarning to the count, --a warning he might not be able to send anothertime, if this first attempt should fail and another be made. "

The count's first idea was that this was an artifice--a gross deception, to draw his attention from a minor danger in order to expose him to agreater. He was on the point of sending the letter to the commissary ofpolice, notwithstanding the advice of his anonymous friend, or perhapsbecause of that advice, when suddenly the idea occurred to him that itmight be some personal enemy, whom he alone should recognize and overwhom, if such were the case, he alone would gain any advantage, asFiesco [*] had done over the Moor who would have killed him. We know theCount's vigorous and daring mind, denying anything to be impossible, with that energy which marks the great man. From his past life, fromhis resolution to shrink from nothing, the count had acquired aninconceivable relish for the contests in which he had engaged, sometimesagainst nature, that is to say, against God, and sometimes against theworld, that is, against the devil.

* The Genoese conspirator.

"They do not want my papers, " said Monte Cristo, "they want to killme; they are no robbers, but assassins. I will not allow the prefect ofpolice to interfere with my private affairs. I am rich enough, forsooth, to distribute his authority on this occasion. " The count recalledBaptistin, who had left the room after delivering the letter. "Return toParis, " said he; "assemble the servants who remain there. I want all myhousehold at Auteuil. "

"But will no one remain in the house, my lord?" asked Baptistin.

"Yes, the porter. "

"My lord will remember that the lodge is at a distance from the house. "

"Well?"

"The house might be stripped without his hearing the least noise. "

"By whom?"

"By thieves. "

"You are a fool, M. Baptistin. Thieves might strip the house--it wouldannoy me less than to be disobeyed. " Baptistin bowed.

"You understand me?" said the count. "Bring your comrades here, one andall; but let everything remain as usual, only close the shutters of theground floor. "

"And those of the second floor?"

"You know they are never closed. Go!"

The count signified his intention of dining alone, and that no one butAli should attend him. Having dined with his usual tranquillity andmoderation, the count, making a signal to Ali to follow him, went outby the side-gate and on reaching the Bois de Boulogne turned, apparentlywithout design towards Paris and at twilight; found himself opposite hishouse in the Champs-Elysees. All was dark; one solitary, feeble lightwas burning in the porter's lodge, about forty paces distant from thehouse, as Baptistin had said. Monte Cristo leaned against a tree, andwith that scrutinizing glance which was so rarely deceived, looked upand down the avenue, examined the passers-by, and carefully looked downthe neighboring streets, to see that no one was concealed. Ten minutespassed thus, and he was convinced that no one was watching him. Hehastened to the side-door with Ali, entered hurriedly, and by theservants' staircase, of which he had the key, gained his bedroom withoutopening or disarranging a single curtain, without even the porterhaving the slightest suspicion that the house, which he supposed empty, contained its chief occupant.

Arrived in his bedroom, the count motioned to Ali to stop; then hepassed into the dressing-room, which he examined. Everything appearedas usual--the precious secretary in its place, and the key in thesecretary. He double locked it, took the key, returned to the bedroomdoor, removed the double staple of the bolt, and went in. Meanwhile Alihad procured the arms the count required--namely, a short carbine anda pair of double-barrelled pistols, with which as sure an aim might betaken as with a single-barrelled one. Thus armed, the count held thelives of five men in his hands. It was about half-past nine. The countand Ali ate in haste a crust of bread and drank a glass of Spanish wine;then Monte Cristo slipped aside one of the movable panels, which enabledhim to see into the adjoining room. He had within his reach his pistolsand carbine, and Ali, standing near him, held one of the small Arabianhatchets, whose form has not varied since the Crusades. Through one ofthe windows of the bedroom, on a line with that in the dressing-room, the count could see into the street.

Two hours passed thus. It was intensely dark; still Ali, thanks to hiswild nature, and the count, thanks doubtless to his long confinement, could distinguish in the darkness the slightest movement of the trees. The little light in the lodge had long been extinct. It might beexpected that the attack, if indeed an attack was projected, would bemade from the staircase of the ground floor, and not from a window; inMonte Cristo's opinion, the villains sought his life, not his money. Itwould be his bedroom they would attack, and they must reach it by theback staircase, or by the window in the dressing-room. The clock ofthe Invalides struck a quarter to twelve; the west wind bore on itsmoistened gusts the doleful vibration of the three strokes.

As the last stroke died away, the count thought he heard a slight noisein the dressing-room; this first sound, or rather this first grinding, was followed by a second, then a third; at the fourth, the count knewwhat to expect. A firm and well-practised hand was engaged in cuttingthe four sides of a pane of glass with a diamond. The count felt hisheart beat more rapidly. Inured as men may be to danger, forewarned asthey may be of peril, they understand, by the fluttering of the heartand the shuddering of the frame, the enormous difference between a dreamand a reality, between the project and the execution. However, MonteCristo only made a sign to apprise Ali, who, understanding that dangerwas approaching from the other side, drew nearer to his master. MonteCristo was eager to ascertain the strength and number of his enemies.

The window whence the noise proceeded was opposite the opening by whichthe count could see into the dressing-room. He fixed his eyes on thatwindow--he distinguished a shadow in the darkness; then one of the panesbecame quite opaque, as if a sheet of paper were stuck on the outside, then the square cracked without falling. Through the opening an arm waspassed to find the fastening, then a second; the window turned on itshinges, and a man entered. He was alone.

"That's a daring rascal, " whispered the count.

At that moment Ali touched him slightly on the shoulder. He turned; Alipointed to the window of the room in which they were, facing the street. "I see!" said he, "there are two of them; one does the work while theother stands guard. " He made a sign to Ali not to lose sight of the manin the street, and turned to the one in the dressing-room.

The glass-cutter had entered, and was feeling his way, his armsstretched out before him. At last he appeared to have made himselffamiliar with his surroundings. There were two doors; he bolted themboth.

When he drew near to the bedroom door, Monte Cristo expected that he wascoming in, and raised one of his pistols; but he simply heard the soundof the bolts sliding in their copper rings. It was only a precaution. The nocturnal visitor, ignorant of the fact that the count had removedthe staples, might now think himself at home, and pursue his purposewith full security. Alone and free to act as he wished, the man thendrew from his pocket something which the count could not discern, placedit on a stand, then went straight to the secretary, felt the lock, andcontrary to his expectation found that the key was missing. But theglass-cutter was a prudent man who had provided for all emergencies. Thecount soon heard the rattling of a bunch of skeleton keys, such as thelocksmith brings when called to force a lock, and which thieves callnightingales, doubtless from the music of their nightly song when theygrind against the bolt. "Ah, ha, " whispered Monte Cristo with a smile ofdisappointment, "he is only a thief. "



But the man in the dark could not find the right key. He reached theinstrument he had placed on the stand, touched a spring, and immediatelya pale light, just bright enough to render objects distinct, wasreflected on his hands and countenance. "By heavens, " exclaimed MonteCristo, starting back, "it is"--

Ali raised his hatchet. "Don't stir, " whispered Monte Cristo, "and putdown your hatchet; we shall require no arms. " Then he added some wordsin a low tone, for the exclamation which surprise had drawn from thecount, faint as it had been, had startled the man who remained in thepose of the old knife-grinder. It was an order the count had just given, for immediately Ali went noiselessly, and returned, bearing a blackdress and a three-cornered hat. Meanwhile Monte Cristo had rapidly takenoff his great-coat, waistcoat, and shirt, and one might distinguish bythe glimmering through the open panel that he wore a pliant tunic ofsteel mail, of which the last in France, where daggers are no longerdreaded, was worn by King Louis XVI. , who feared the dagger at hisbreast, and whose head was cleft with a hatchet. The tunic soondisappeared under a long cassock, as did his hair under a priest's wig;the three-cornered hat over this effectually transformed the count intoan abbe.

The man, hearing nothing more, stood erect, and while Monte Cristo wascompleting his disguise had advanced straight to the secretary, whoselock was beginning to crack under his nightingale.

"Try again, " whispered the count, who depended on the secret spring, which was unknown to the picklock, clever as he might be--"try again, you have a few minutes' work there. " And he advanced to the window. The man whom he had seen seated on a fence had got down, and was stillpacing the street; but, strange as it appeared, he cared not for thosewho might pass from the avenue of the Champs-Elysees or by the FaubourgSt. Honore; his attention was engrossed with what was passing at thecount's, and his only aim appeared to be to discern every movement inthe dressing-room.

Monte Cristo suddenly struck his finger on his forehead and a smilepassed over his lips; then drawing near to Ali, he whispered, --

"Remain here, concealed in the dark, and whatever noise you hear, whatever passes, only come in or show yourself if I call you. " Ali bowedin token of strict obedience. Monte Cristo then drew a lighted taperfrom a closet, and when the thief was deeply engaged with his lock, silently opened the door, taking care that the light should shinedirectly on his face. The door opened so quietly that the thief heard nosound; but, to his astonishment, the room was suddenly illuminated. Heturned.

"Ah, good-evening, my dear M. Caderousse, " said Monte Cristo; "what areyou doing here, at such an hour?"

"The Abbe Busoni!" exclaimed Caderousse; and, not knowing how thisstrange apparition could have entered when he had bolted the doors, helet fall his bunch of keys, and remained motionless and stupefied. Thecount placed himself between Caderousse and the window, thus cutting offfrom the thief his only chance of retreat. "The Abbe Busoni!" repeatedCaderousse, fixing his haggard gaze on the count.

"Yes, undoubtedly, the Abbe Busoni himself, " replied Monte Cristo. "AndI am very glad you recognize me, dear M. Caderousse; it proves you havea good memory, for it must be about ten years since we last met. " Thiscalmness of Busoni, combined with his irony and boldness, staggeredCaderousse.

"The abbe, the abbe!" murmured he, clinching his fists, and his teethchattering.

"So you would rob the Count of Monte Cristo?" continued the false abbe.

"Reverend sir, " murmured Caderousse, seeking to regain the window, whichthe count pitilessly blocked--"reverend sir, I don't know--believe me--Itake my oath"--

"A pane of glass out, " continued the count, "a dark lantern, a bunch offalse keys, a secretary half forced--it is tolerably evident"--

Caderousse was choking; he looked around for some corner to hide in, some way of escape.

"Come, come, " continued the count, "I see you are still the same, --anassassin. "

"Reverend sir, since you know everything, you know it was not I--it wasLa Carconte; that was proved at the trial, since I was only condemned tothe galleys. "

"Is your time, then, expired, since I find you in a fair way to returnthere?"

"No, reverend sir; I have been liberated by some one. "

"That some one has done society a great kindness. "

"Ah, " said Caderousse, "I had promised"--

"And you are breaking your promise!" interrupted Monte Cristo.

"Alas, yes!" said Caderousse very uneasily.

"A bad relapse, that will lead you, if I mistake not, to the Place deGreve. So much the worse, so much the worse--diavolo, as they say in mycountry. "

"Reverend sir, I am impelled"--

"Every criminal says the same thing. "

"Poverty"--

"Pshaw!" said Busoni disdainfully; "poverty may make a man beg, steal aloaf of bread at a baker's door, but not cause him to open a secretaryin a house supposed to be inhabited. And when the jeweller Johannes hadjust paid you 40, 000. Francs for the diamond I had given you, andyou killed him to get the diamond and the money both, was that alsopoverty?"

"Pardon, reverend sir, " said Caderousse; "you have saved my life once, save me again!"

"That is but poor encouragement. "

"Are you alone, reverend sir, or have you there soldiers ready to seizeme?"

"I am alone, " said the abbe, "and I will again have pity on you, andwill let you escape, at the risk of the fresh miseries my weakness maylead to, if you tell me the truth. "

"Ah, reverend sir, " cried Caderousse, clasping his hands, and drawingnearer to Monte Cristo, "I may indeed say you are my deliverer!"

"You mean to say you have been freed from confinement?"

"Yes, that is true, reverend sir. "

"Who was your liberator?"

"An Englishman. "

"What was his name?"

"Lord Wilmore. "

"I know him; I shall know if you lie. "

"Ah, reverend sir, I tell you the simple truth. "

"Was this Englishman protecting you?"

"No, not me, but a young Corsican, my companion. "

"What was this young Corsican's name?"

"Benedetto. "

"Is that his Christian name?"

"He had no other; he was a foundling. "

"Then this young man escaped with you?"

"He did. "

"In what way?"

"We were working at St. Mandrier, near Toulon. Do you know St. Mandrier?"

"I do. "

"In the hour of rest, between noon and one o'clock"--

"Galley-slaves having a nap after dinner! We may well pity the poorfellows!" said the abbe.

"Nay, " said Caderousse, "one can't always work--one is not a dog. "

"So much the better for the dogs, " said Monte Cristo.

"While the rest slept, then, we went away a short distance; we severedour fetters with a file the Englishman had given us, and swam away. "

"And what is become of this Benedetto?"

"I don't know. "

"You ought to know. "

"No, in truth; we parted at Hyeres. " And, to give more weight to hisprotestation, Caderousse advanced another step towards the abbe, whoremained motionless in his place, as calm as ever, and pursuinghis interrogation. "You lie, " said the Abbe Busoni, with a tone ofirresistible authority.

"Reverend sir!"

"You lie! This man is still your friend, and you, perhaps, make use ofhim as your accomplice. "

"Oh, reverend sir!"

"Since you left Toulon what have you lived on? Answer me!"

"On what I could get. "

"You lie, " repeated the abbe a third time, with a still more imperativetone. Caderousse, terrified, looked at the count. "You have lived on themoney he has given you. "

"True, " said Caderousse; "Benedetto has become the son of a great lord. "

"How can he be the son of a great lord?"

"A natural son. "

"And what is that great lord's name?"

"The Count of Monte Cristo, the very same in whose house we are. "

"Benedetto the count's son?" replied Monte Cristo, astonished in histurn.

"Well, I should think so, since the count has found him a falsefather--since the count gives him four thousand francs a month, andleaves him 500, 000 francs in his will. "

"Ah, yes, " said the factitious abbe, who began to understand; "and whatname does the young man bear meanwhile?"

"Andrea Cavalcanti. "

"Is it, then, that young man whom my friend the Count of Monte Cristohas received into his house, and who is going to marry MademoiselleDanglars?"

"Exactly. "

"And you suffer that, you wretch--you, who know his life and his crime?"

"Why should I stand in a comrade's way?" said Caderousse.

"You are right; it is not you who should apprise M. Danglars, it is I. "

"Do not do so, reverend sir. "

"Why not?"

"Because you would bring us to ruin. "

"And you think that to save such villains as you I will become anabettor of their plot, an accomplice in their crimes?"

"Reverend sir, " said Caderousse, drawing still nearer.

"I will expose all. "

"To whom?"

"To M. Danglars. "

"By heaven!" cried Caderousse, drawing from his waistcoat an open knife, and striking the count in the breast, "you shall disclose nothing, reverend sir!" To Caderousse's great astonishment, the knife, instead ofpiercing the count's breast, flew back blunted. At the same moment thecount seized with his left hand the assassin's wrist, and wrung itwith such strength that the knife fell from his stiffened fingers, andCaderousse uttered a cry of pain. But the count, disregarding his cry, continued to wring the bandit's wrist, until, his arm being dislocated, he fell first on his knees, then flat on the floor. The count thenplaced his foot on his head, saying, "I know not what restrains me fromcrushing thy skull, rascal. "

"Ah, mercy--mercy!" cried Caderousse. The count withdrew his foot. "Rise!" said he. Caderousse rose.

"What a wrist you have, reverend sir!" said Caderousse, stroking hisarm, all bruised by the fleshy pincers which had held it; "what awrist!"

"Silence! God gives me strength to overcome a wild beast like you; inthe name of that God I act, --remember that, wretch, --and to spare theeat this moment is still serving him. "

"Oh!" said Caderousse, groaning with pain.

"Take this pen and paper, and write what I dictate. "

"I don't know how to write, reverend sir. "

"You lie! Take this pen, and write!" Caderousse, awed by the superiorpower of the abbe, sat down and wrote:--

Sir, --The man whom you are receiving at your house, and to whom youintend to marry your daughter, is a felon who escaped with me fromconfinement at Toulon. He was No. 59, and I No. 58. He was calledBenedetto, but he is ignorant of his real name, having never known hisparents.

"Sign it!" continued the count.

"But would you ruin me?"

"If I sought your ruin, fool, I should drag you to the firstguard-house; besides, when that note is delivered, in all probabilityyou will have no more to fear. Sign it, then!"

Caderousse signed it. "The address, 'To monsieur the Baron Danglars, banker, Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin. '" Caderousse wrote the address. Theabbe took the note. "Now, " said he, "that suffices--begone!"

"Which way?"

"The way you came. "

"You wish me to get out at that window?"

"You got in very well. "

"Oh, you have some design against me, reverend sir. "

"Idiot! what design can I have?"

"Why, then, not let me out by the door?"

"What would be the advantage of waking the porter?"--

"Ah, reverend sir, tell me, do you wish me dead?"

"I wish what God wills. "

"But swear that you will not strike me as I go down. "

"Cowardly fool!"

"What do you intend doing with me?"

"I ask you what can I do? I have tried to make you a happy man, and youhave turned out a murderer. "

"Oh, monsieur, " said Caderousse, "make one more attempt--try me oncemore!"

"I will, " said the count. "Listen--you know if I may be relied on. "

"Yes, " said Caderousse.

"If you arrive safely at home"--

"What have I to fear, except from you?"

"If you reach your home safely, leave Paris, leave France, and whereveryou may be, so long as you conduct yourself well, I will send you asmall annuity; for, if you return home safely, then"--

"Then?" asked Caderousse, shuddering.

"Then I shall believe God has forgiven you, and I will forgive you too. "

"As true as I am a Christian, " stammered Caderousse, "you will make medie of fright!"

"Now begone, " said the count, pointing to the window.

Caderousse, scarcely yet relying on this promise, put his legs outof the window and stood on the ladder. "Now go down, " said the abbe, folding his arms. Understanding he had nothing more to fear from him, Caderousse began to go down. Then the count brought the taper to thewindow, that it might be seen in the Champs-Elysees that a man wasgetting out of the window while another held a light.

"What are you doing, reverend sir? Suppose a watchman should pass?" Andhe blew out the light. He then descended, but it was only when he felthis foot touch the ground that he was satisfied of his safety.

Monte Cristo returned to his bedroom, and, glancing rapidly from thegarden to the street, he saw first Caderousse, who after walking to theend of the garden, fixed his ladder against the wall at a different partfrom where he came in. The count then looking over into the street, sawthe man who appeared to be waiting run in the same direction, and placehimself against the angle of the wall where Caderousse would come over. Caderousse climbed the ladder slowly, and looked over the coping to seeif the street was quiet. No one could be seen or heard. The clock ofthe Invalides struck one. Then Caderousse sat astride the coping, anddrawing up his ladder passed it over the wall; then he began to descend, or rather to slide down by the two stanchions, which he did with an easewhich proved how accustomed he was to the exercise. But, once started, he could not stop. In vain did he see a man start from the shadow whenhe was halfway down--in vain did he see an arm raised as he touched theground. Before he could defend himself that arm struck him so violentlyin the back that he let go the ladder, crying, "Help!" A second blowstruck him almost immediately in the side, and he fell, calling, "Help, murder!" Then, as he rolled on the ground, his adversary seized him bythe hair, and struck him a third blow in the chest. This time Caderousseendeavored to call again, but he could only utter a groan, and heshuddered as the blood flowed from his three wounds. The assassin, finding that he no longer cried out, lifted his head up by the hair; hiseyes were closed, and the mouth was distorted. The murderer, supposinghim dead, let fall his head and disappeared. Then Caderousse, feelingthat he was leaving him, raised himself on his elbow, and with a dyingvoice cried with great effort, "Murder! I am dying! Help, reverendsir, --help!"

This mournful appeal pierced the darkness. The door of theback-staircase opened, then the side-gate of the garden, and Ali and hismaster were on the spot with lights.

Chapter 83. The Hand of God.

Caderousse continued to call piteously, "Help, reverend sir, help!"

"What is the matter?" asked Monte Cristo.

"Help, " cried Caderousse; "I am murdered!"

"We are here;--take courage. "

"Ah, it's all over! You are come too late--you are come to see me die. What blows, what blood!" He fainted. Ali and his master conveyed thewounded man into a room. Monte Cristo motioned to Ali to undress him, and he then examined his dreadful wounds. "My God!" he exclaimed, "thyvengeance is sometimes delayed, but only that it may fall the moreeffectually. " Ali looked at his master for further instructions. "Bringhere immediately the king's attorney, M. De Villefort, who lives in theFaubourg St. Honore. As you pass the lodge, wake the porter, and sendhim for a surgeon. " Ali obeyed, leaving the abbe alone with Caderousse, who had not yet revived.

When the wretched man again opened his eyes, the count looked at himwith a mournful expression of pity, and his lips moved as if in prayer. "A surgeon, reverend sir--a surgeon!" said Caderousse.

"I have sent for one, " replied the abbe.

"I know he cannot save my life, but he may strengthen me to give myevidence. "

"Against whom?"

"Against my murderer. "

"Did you recognize him?"

"Yes; it was Benedetto. "

"The young Corsican?"

"Himself. "

"Your comrade?"

"Yes. After giving me the plan of this house, doubtless hoping I shouldkill the count and he thus become his heir, or that the count would killme and I should be out of his way, he waylaid me, and has murdered me. "

"I have also sent for the procureur. "

"He will not come in time; I feel my life fast ebbing. "

"Wait a moment, " said Monte Cristo. He left the room, and returnedin five minutes with a phial. The dying man's eyes were all the timeriveted on the door, through which he hoped succor would arrive. "Hasten, reverend sir, hasten! I shall faint again!" Monte Cristoapproached, and dropped on his purple lips three or four drops of thecontents of the phial. Caderousse drew a deep breath. "Oh, " said he, "that is life to me; more, more!"

"Two drops more would kill you, " replied the abbe.

"Oh, send for some one to whom I can denounce the wretch!"

"Shall I write your deposition? You can sign it. "

"Yes, yes, " said Caderousse; and his eyes glistened at the thought ofthis posthumous revenge. Monte Cristo wrote:--

"I die, murdered by the Corsican Benedetto, my comrade in the galleys atToulouse, No. 59. "

"Quick, quick!" said Caderousse, "or I shall be unable to sign it. "

Monte Cristo gave the pen to Caderousse, who collected all his strength, signed it, and fell back on his bed, saying: "You will relate all therest, reverend sir; you will say he calls himself Andrea Cavalcanti. Helodges at the Hotel des Princes. Oh, I am dying!" He again fainted. Theabbe made him smell the contents of the phial, and he again opened hiseyes. His desire for revenge had not forsaken him.

"Ah, you will tell all I have said, will you not, reverend sir?"

"Yes, and much more. "

"What more will you say?"

"I will say he had doubtless given you the plan of this house, in thehope the count would kill you. I will say, likewise, he had apprised thecount, by a note, of your intention, and, the count being absent, I readthe note and sat up to await you. "

"And he will be guillotined, will be not?" said Caderousse. "Promise methat, and I will die with that hope. "

"I will say, " continued the count, "that he followed and watched you thewhole time, and when he saw you leave the house, ran to the angle of thewall to conceal himself. "

"Did you see all that?"

"Remember my words: 'If you return home safely, I shall believe God hasforgiven you, and I will forgive you also. '"

"And you did not warn me!" cried Caderousse, raising himself on hiselbows. "You knew I should be killed on leaving this house, and did notwarn me!"

"No; for I saw God's justice placed in the hands of Benedetto, andshould have thought it sacrilege to oppose the designs of providence. "

"God's justice! Speak not of it, reverend sir. If God were just, youknow how many would be punished who now escape. "

"Patience, " said the abbe, in a tone which made the dying man shudder;"have patience!" Caderousse looked at him with amazement. "Besides, "said the abbe, "God is merciful to all, as he has been to you; he isfirst a father, then a judge. "

"Do you then believe in God?" said Caderousse.

"Had I been so unhappy as not to believe in him until now, " said MonteCristo, "I must believe on seeing you. " Caderousse raised his clinchedhands towards heaven.

"Listen, " said the abbe, extending his hand over the wounded man, asif to command him to believe; "this is what the God in whom, on yourdeath-bed, you refuse to believe, has done for you--he gave you health, strength, regular employment, even friends--a life, in fact, which a manmight enjoy with a calm conscience. Instead of improving these gifts, rarely granted so abundantly, this has been your course--you have givenyourself up to sloth and drunkenness, and in a fit of intoxication haveruined your best friend. "

"Help!" cried Caderousse; "I require a surgeon, not a priest; perhapsI am not mortally wounded--I may not die; perhaps they can yet save mylife. "

"Your wounds are so far mortal that, without the three drops I gave you, you would now be dead. Listen, then. "

"Ah, " murmured Caderousse, "what a strange priest you are; you drive thedying to despair, instead of consoling them. "

"Listen, " continued the abbe. "When you had betrayed your friend Godbegan not to strike, but to warn you. Poverty overtook you. You hadalready passed half your life in coveting that which you might havehonorably acquired; and already you contemplated crime under the excuseof want, when God worked a miracle in your behalf, sending you, by myhands, a fortune--brilliant, indeed, for you, who had never possessedany. But this unexpected, unhoped-for, unheard-of fortune sufficedyou no longer when you once possessed it; you wished to double it, andhow?--by a murder! You succeeded, and then God snatched it from you, andbrought you to justice. "

"It was not I who wished to kill the Jew, " said Caderousse; "it was LaCarconte. "

"Yes, " said Monte Cristo, "and God, --I cannot say in justice, for hisjustice would have slain you, --but God, in his mercy, spared your life. "

"Pardieu, to transport me for life, how merciful!"

"You thought it a mercy then, miserable wretch! The coward who feareddeath rejoiced at perpetual disgrace; for like all galley-slaves, yousaid, 'I may escape from prison, I cannot from the grave. ' And you saidtruly; the way was opened for you unexpectedly. An Englishman visitedToulon, who had vowed to rescue two men from infamy, and his choicefell on you and your companion. You received a second fortune, money andtranquillity were restored to you, and you, who had been condemned to afelon's life, might live as other men. Then, wretched creature, then youtempted God a third time. 'I have not enough, ' you said, when you hadmore than you before possessed, and you committed a third crime, withoutreason, without excuse. God is wearied; he has punished you. " Caderoussewas fast sinking. "Give me drink, " said he: "I thirst--I burn!" MonteCristo gave him a glass of water. "And yet that villain, Benedetto, willescape!"

"No one, I tell you, will escape; Benedetto will be punished. "

"Then, you, too, will be punished, for you did not do your duty as apriest--you should have prevented Benedetto from killing me. "

"I?" said the count, with a smile which petrified the dying man, "whenyou had just broken your knife against the coat of mail which protectedmy breast! Yet perhaps if I had found you humble and penitent, I mighthave prevented Benedetto from killing you; but I found you proud andblood-thirsty, and I left you in the hands of God. "

"I do not believe there is a God, " howled Caderousse; "you do notbelieve it; you lie--you lie!"

"Silence, " said the abbe; "you will force the last drop of blood fromyour veins. What! you do not believe in God when he is striking youdead? you will not believe in him, who requires but a prayer, a word, atear, and he will forgive? God, who might have directed the assassin'sdagger so as to end your career in a moment, has given you this quarterof an hour for repentance. Reflect, then, wretched man, and repent. "

"No, " said Caderousse, "no; I will not repent. There is no God; there isno providence--all comes by chance. "--

"There is a providence; there is a God, " said Monte Cristo, "of whom youare a striking proof, as you lie in utter despair, denying him, while Istand before you, rich, happy, safe and entreating that God in whom youendeavor not to believe, while in your heart you still believe in him. "

"But who are you, then?" asked Caderousse, fixing his dying eyes on thecount. "Look well at me!" said Monte Cristo, putting the light near hisface. "Well, the abbe--the Abbe Busoni. " Monte Cristo took off the wigwhich disfigured him, and let fall his black hair, which added somuch to the beauty of his pallid features. "Oh?" said Caderousse, thunderstruck, "but for that black hair, I should say you were theEnglishman, Lord Wilmore. "

"I am neither the Abbe Busoni nor Lord Wilmore, " said Monte Cristo;"think again, --do you not recollect me?" Those was a magic effect inthe count's words, which once more revived the exhausted powers of themiserable man. "Yes, indeed, " said he; "I think I have seen you andknown you formerly. "

"Yes, Caderousse, you have seen me; you knew me once. "

"Who, then, are you? and why, if you knew me, do you let me die?"

"Because nothing can save you; your wounds are mortal. Had it beenpossible to save you, I should have considered it another proof of God'smercy, and I would again have endeavored to restore you, I swear by myfather's tomb. "

"By your father's tomb!" said Caderousse, supported by a supernaturalpower, and half-raising himself to see more distinctly the man who hadjust taken the oath which all men hold sacred; "who, then, are you?"The count had watched the approach of death. He knew this was the laststruggle. He approached the dying man, and, leaning over him with a calmand melancholy look, he whispered, "I am--I am"--And his almost closedlips uttered a name so low that the count himself appeared afraid tohear it. Caderousse, who had raised himself on his knees, and stretchedout his arm, tried to draw back, then clasping his hands, and raisingthem with a desperate effort, "O my God, my God!" said he, "pardon mefor having denied thee; thou dost exist, thou art indeed man's fatherin heaven, and his judge on earth. My God, my Lord, I have long despisedthee! Pardon me, my God; receive me, O my Lord!" Caderousse sigheddeeply, and fell back with a groan. The blood no longer flowed from hiswounds. He was dead.

"One!" said the count mysteriously, his eyes fixed on the corpse, disfigured by so awful a death. Ten minutes afterwards the surgeon andthe procureur arrived, the one accompanied by the porter, the other byAli, and were received by the Abbe Busoni, who was praying by the sideof the corpse.

Chapter 84. Beauchamp.

The daring attempt to rob the count was the topic of conversationthroughout Paris for the next fortnight. The dying man had signed adeposition declaring Benedetto to be the assassin. The police had ordersto make the strictest search for the murderer. Caderousse's knife, darklantern, bunch of keys, and clothing, excepting the waistcoat, whichcould not be found, were deposited at the registry; the corpse wasconveyed to the morgue. The count told every one that this adventure hadhappened during his absence at Auteuil, and that he only knew whatwas related by the Abbe Busoni, who that evening, by mere chance, hadrequested to pass the night in his house, to examine some valuable booksin his library. Bertuccio alone turned pale whenever Benedetto's namewas mentioned in his presence, but there was no reason why any oneshould notice his doing so. Villefort, being called on to provethe crime, was preparing his brief with the same ardor that he wasaccustomed to exercise when required to speak in criminal cases.

But three weeks had already passed, and the most diligent search hadbeen unsuccessful; the attempted robbery and the murder of the robberby his comrade were almost forgotten in anticipation of the approachingmarriage of Mademoiselle Danglars to the Count Andrea Cavalcanti. It wasexpected that this wedding would shortly take place, as the youngman was received at the banker's as the betrothed. Letters had beendespatched to M. Cavalcanti, as the count's father, who highly approvedof the union, regretted his inability to leave Parma at that time, andpromised a wedding gift of a hundred and fifty thousand livres. Itwas agreed that the three millions should be intrusted to Danglars toinvest; some persons had warned the young man of the circumstances ofhis future father-in-law, who had of late sustained repeated losses; butwith sublime disinterestedness and confidence the young man refusedto listen, or to express a single doubt to the baron. The baron adoredCount Andrea Cavalcanti: not so Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars. With aninstinctive hatred of matrimony, she suffered Andrea's attentionsin order to get rid of Morcerf; but when Andrea urged his suit, shebetrayed an entire dislike to him. The baron might possibly haveperceived it, but, attributing it to a caprice, feigned ignorance.

The delay demanded by Beauchamp had nearly expired. Morcerf appreciatedthe advice of Monte Cristo to let things die away of their own accord. No one had taken up the remark about the general, and no one hadrecognized in the officer who betrayed the castle of Yanina the noblecount in the House of Peers. Albert, however felt no less insulted; thefew lines which had irritated him were certainly intended as an insult. Besides, the manner in which Beauchamp had closed the conference left abitter recollection in his heart. He cherished the thought of the duel, hoping to conceal its true cause even from his seconds. Beauchamp hadnot been seen since the day he visited Albert, and those of whom thelatter inquired always told him he was out on a journey which woulddetain him some days. Where he was no one knew.

One morning Albert was awakened by his valet de chambre, who announcedBeauchamp. Albert rubbed his eyes, ordered his servant to introducehim into the small smoking-room on the ground-floor, dressed himselfquickly, and went down. He found Beauchamp pacing the room; onperceiving him Beauchamp stopped. "Your arrival here, without waiting myvisit at your house to-day, looks well, sir, " said Albert. "Tell me, mayI shake hands with you, saying, 'Beauchamp, acknowledge you have injuredme, and retain my friendship, ' or must I simply propose to you a choiceof arms?"

"Albert, " said Beauchamp, with a look of sorrow which stupefied theyoung man, "let us first sit down and talk. "

"Rather, sir, before we sit down, I must demand your answer. "

"Albert, " said the journalist, "these are questions which it isdifficult to answer. "

"I will facilitate it by repeating the question, 'Will you, or will younot, retract?'"

"Morcerf, it is not enough to answer 'yes' or 'no' to questions whichconcern the honor, the social interest, and the life of such a man asLieutenant-general the Count of Morcerf, peer of France. "

"What must then be done?"

"What I have done, Albert. I reasoned thus--money, time, and fatigue arenothing compared with the reputation and interests of a whole family;probabilities will not suffice, only facts will justify a deadly combatwith a friend. If I strike with the sword, or discharge the contentsof a pistol at man with whom, for three years, I have been on terms ofintimacy, I must, at least, know why I do so; I must meet him with aheart at ease, and that quiet conscience which a man needs when his ownarm must save his life. "

"Well, " said Morcerf, impatiently, "what does all this mean?"

"It means that I have just returned from Yanina. "

"From Yanina?"

"Yes. "

"Impossible!"

"Here is my passport; examine the visa--Geneva, Milan, Venice, Trieste, Delvino, Yanina. Will you believe the government of a republic, akingdom, and an empire?" Albert cast his eyes on the passport, thenraised them in astonishment to Beauchamp. "You have been to Yanina?"said he.

"Albert, had you been a stranger, a foreigner, a simple lord, like thatEnglishman who came to demand satisfaction three or four months since, and whom I killed to get rid of, I should not have taken this trouble;but I thought this mark of consideration due to you. I took a week togo, another to return, four days of quarantine, and forty-eight hoursto stay there; that makes three weeks. I returned last night, and here Iam. "

"What circumlocution! How long you are before you tell me what I mostwish to know?"

"Because, in truth, Albert"--

"You hesitate?"

"Yes, --I fear. "

"You fear to acknowledge that your correspondent his deceived you? Oh, no self-love, Beauchamp. Acknowledge it, Beauchamp; your courage cannotbe doubted. "

"Not so, " murmured the journalist; "on the contrary"--

Albert turned frightfully pale; he endeavored to speak, but the wordsdied on his lips. "My friend, " said Beauchamp, in the most affectionatetone, "I should gladly make an apology; but, alas, "--

"But what?"

"The paragraph was correct, my friend. "

"What? That French officer"--

"Yes. "

"Fernand?"

"Yes. "

"The traitor who surrendered the castle of the man in whose service hewas"--

"Pardon me, my friend, that man was your father!" Albert advancedfuriously towards Beauchamp, but the latter restrained him more by amild look than by his extended hand.

"My friend, " said he, "here is a proof of it. "

Albert opened the paper, it was an attestation of four notableinhabitants of Yanina, proving that Colonel Fernand Mondego, in theservice of Ali Tepelini, had surrendered the castle for two millioncrowns. The signatures were perfectly legal. Albert tottered and felloverpowered in a chair. It could no longer be doubted; the familyname was fully given. After a moment's mournful silence, his heartoverflowed, and he gave way to a flood of tears. Beauchamp, who hadwatched with sincere pity the young man's paroxysm of grief, approachedhim. "Now, Albert, " said he, "you understand me--do you not? I wished tosee all, and to judge of everything for myself, hoping the explanationwould be in your father's favor, and that I might do him justice. But, on the contrary, the particulars which are given prove that FernandMondego, raised by Ali Pasha to the rank of governor-general, is noother than Count Fernand of Morcerf; then, recollecting the honor youhad done me, in admitting me to your friendship, I hastened to you. "

Albert, still extended on the chair, covered his face with both hands, as if to prevent the light from reaching him. "I hastened to you, "continued Beauchamp, "to tell you, Albert, that in this changing age, the faults of a father cannot revert upon his children. Few have passedthrough this revolutionary period, in the midst of which we wereborn, without some stain of infamy or blood to soil the uniform of thesoldier, or the gown of the magistrate. Now I have these proofs, Albert, and I am in your confidence, no human power can force me to a duel whichyour own conscience would reproach you with as criminal, but I come tooffer you what you can no longer demand of me. Do you wish these proofs, these attestations, which I alone possess, to be destroyed? Do you wishthis frightful secret to remain with us? Confided to me, it shall neverescape my lips; say, Albert, my friend, do you wish it?"

Albert threw himself on Beauchamp's neck. "Ah, noble fellow!" cried he.

"Take these, " said Beauchamp, presenting the papers to Albert.

Albert seized them with a convulsive hand, tore them in pieces, andtrembling lest the least vestige should escape and one day appear toconfront him, he approached the wax-light, always kept burning forcigars, and burned every fragment. "Dear, excellent friend, " murmuredAlbert, still burning the papers.



"Let all be forgotten as a sorrowful dream, " said Beauchamp; "let itvanish as the last sparks from the blackened paper, and disappear as thesmoke from those silent ashes. "

"Yes, yes, " said Albert, "and may there remain only the eternalfriendship which I promised to my deliverer, which shall be transmittedto our children's children, and shall always remind me that I owe mylife and the honor of my name to you, --for had this been known, oh, Beauchamp, I should have destroyed myself; or, --no, my poor mother! Icould not have killed her by the same blow, --I should have fled from mycountry. "

"Dear Albert, " said Beauchamp. But this sudden and factitious joy soonforsook the young man, and was succeeded by a still greater grief.

"Well, " said Beauchamp, "what still oppresses you, my friend?"

"I am broken-hearted, " said Albert. "Listen, Beauchamp! I cannot thus, in a moment relinquish the respect, the confidence, and pride with whicha father's untarnished name inspires a son. Oh, Beauchamp, Beauchamp, how shall I now approach mine? Shall I draw back my forehead from hisembrace, or withhold my hand from his? I am the most wretched of men. Ah, my mother, my poor mother!" said Albert, gazing through his tears athis mother's portrait; "if you know this, how much must you suffer!"

"Come, " said Beauchamp, taking both his hands, "take courage, myfriend. "

"But how came that first note to be inserted in your journal? Someunknown enemy--an invisible foe--has done this. "

"The more must you fortify yourself, Albert. Let no trace of emotion bevisible on your countenance, bear your grief as the cloud bears withinit ruin and death--a fatal secret, known only when the storm bursts. Go, my friend, reserve your strength for the moment when the crash shallcome. "

"You think, then, all is not over yet?" said Albert, horror-stricken.

"I think nothing, my friend; but all things are possible. By the way"--

"What?" said Albert, seeing that Beauchamp hesitated.

"Are you going to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?"

"Why do you ask me now?"

"Because the rupture or fulfilment of this engagement is connected withthe person of whom we were speaking. "

"How?" said Albert, whose brow reddened; "you think M. Danglars"--

"I ask you only how your engagement stands? Pray put no constructionon my words I do not mean they should convey, and give them no undueweight. "

"No. " said Albert, "the engagement is broken off. "

"Well, " said Beauchamp. Then, seeing the young man was about to relapseinto melancholy, "Let us go out, Albert, " said he; "a ride in the woodin the phaeton, or on horseback, will refresh you; we will then returnto breakfast, and you shall attend to your affairs, and I to mine. "

"Willingly, " said Albert; "but let us walk. I think a little exertionwould do me good. " The two friends walked out on the fortress. Whenarrived at the Madeleine, --"Since we are out, " said Beauchamp, "letus call on M. De Monte Cristo; he is admirably adapted to revive one'sspirits, because he never interrogates, and in my opinion those who askno questions are the best comforters. "

"Gladly, " said Albert; "I love him--let us call. "

Chapter 85. The Journey.

Monte Cristo uttered a joyful exclamation on seeing the young mentogether. "Ah, ha!" said he, "I hope all is over, explained andsettled. "

"Yes, " said Beauchamp; "the absurd reports have died away, and shouldthey be renewed, I would be the first to oppose them; so let us speak nomore of it. "

"Albert will tell you, " replied the count "that I gave him the sameadvice. Look, " added he. "I am finishing the most execrable morning'swork. "

"What is it?" said Albert; "arranging your papers, apparently. "

"My papers, thank God, no, --my papers are all in capital order, becauseI have none; but M. Cavalcanti's. "

"M. Cavalcanti's?" asked Beauchamp.

"Yes; do you not know that this is a young man whom the count isintroducing?" said Morcerf.

"Let us not misunderstand each other, " replied Monte Cristo; "Iintroduce no one, and certainly not M. Cavalcanti. "

"And who, " said Albert with a forced smile, "is to marry MademoiselleDanglars instead of me, which grieves me cruelly. "

"What? Cavalcanti is going to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?" askedBeauchamp.

"Certainly; do you come from the end of the world?" said Monte Cristo;"you, a journalist, the husband of renown? It is the talk of all Paris. "

"And you, count, have made this match?" asked Beauchamp.

"I? Silence, purveyor of gossip, do not spread that report. I make amatch? No, you do not know me; I have done all in my power to opposeit. "

"Ah, I understand, " said Beauchamp, "on our friend Albert's account. "

"On my account?" said the young man; "oh, no, indeed, the count will dome the justice to assert that I have, on the contrary, always entreatedhim to break off my engagement, and happily it is ended. The countpretends I have not him to thank;--so be it--I will erect an altar Deoignoto. "

"Listen, " said Monte Cristo; "I have had little to do with it, for I amat variance both with the father-in-law and the young man; there is onlyMademoiselle Eugenie, who appears but little charmed with the thoughtsof matrimony, and who, seeing how little I was disposed to persuade herto renounce her dear liberty, retains any affection for me. "

"And do you say this wedding is at hand?"

"Oh, yes, in spite of all I could say. I do not know the young man;he is said to be of good family and rich, but I never trust to vagueassertions. I have warned M. Danglars of it till I am tired, but heis fascinated with his Luccanese. I have even informed him of acircumstance I consider very serious; the young man was either charmedby his nurse, stolen by gypsies, or lost by his tutor, I scarcely knowwhich. But I do know his father lost sight of him for more than tenyears; what he did during these ten years, God only knows. Well, allthat was useless. They have commissioned me to write to the major todemand papers, and here they are. I send them, but like Pilate--washingmy hands. "

"And what does Mademoiselle d'Armilly say to you for robbing her of herpupil?"

"Oh, well, I don't know; but I understand that she is going toItaly. Madame Danglars asked me for letters of recommendation for theimpresari; I gave her a few lines for the director of the Valle Theatre, who is under some obligation to me. But what is the matter, Albert? youlook dull; are you, after all, unconsciously in love with MademoiselleEugenie?"

"I am not aware of it, " said Albert, smiling sorrowfully. Beauchampturned to look at some paintings. "But, " continued Monte Cristo, "youare not in your usual spirits?"

"I have a dreadful headache, " said Albert.

"Well, my dear viscount, " said Monte Cristo, "I have an infallibleremedy to propose to you. "

"What is that?" asked the young man.

"A change. "

"Indeed?" said Albert.

"Yes; and as I am just now excessively annoyed, I shall go from home. Shall we go together?"

"You annoyed, count?" said Beauchamp; "and by what?"

"Ah, you think very lightly of it; I should like to see you with a briefpreparing in your house. "

"What brief?"

"The one M. De Villefort is preparing against my amiable assassin--somebrigand escaped from the gallows apparently. "

"True, " said Beauchamp; "I saw it in the paper. Who is this Caderousse?"

"Some provincial, it appears. M. De Villefort heard of him atMarseilles, and M. Danglars recollects having seen him. Consequently, the procureur is very active in the affair, and the prefect of policevery much interested; and, thanks to that interest, for which I am verygrateful, they send me all the robbers of Paris and the neighborhood, under pretence of their being Caderousse's murderers, so that in threemonths, if this continues, every robber and assassin in France will havethe plan of my house at his fingers' end. I am resolved to desert themand go to some remote corner of the earth, and shall be happy if youwill accompany me, viscount. "

"Willingly. "

"Then it is settled?"

"Yes, but where?"

"I have told you, where the air is pure, where every sound soothes, where one is sure to be humbled, however proud may be his nature. I lovethat humiliation, I, who am master of the universe, as was Augustus. "

"But where are you really going?"

"To sea, viscount; you know I am a sailor. I was rocked when an infantin the arms of old ocean, and on the bosom of the beautiful Amphitrite;I have sported with the green mantle of the one and the azure robe ofthe other; I love the sea as a mistress, and pine if I do not often seeher. "

"Let us go, count. "

"To sea?"

"Yes. "

"You accept my proposal?"

"I do. "

"Well, Viscount, there will be in my court-yard this evening a goodtravelling britzka, with four post-horses, in which one may rest as in abed. M. Beauchamp, it holds four very well, will you accompany us?"

"Thank you, I have just returned from sea. "

"What? you have been to sea?"

"Yes; I have just made a little excursion to the Borromean Islands. " [*]

* Lake Maggiore.

"What of that? come with us, " said Albert.

"No, dear Morcerf; you know I only refuse when the thing is impossible. Besides, it is important, " added he in a low tone, "that I should remainin Paris just now to watch the paper. "

"Ah, you are a good and an excellent friend, " said Albert; "yes, you areright; watch, watch, Beauchamp, and try to discover the enemy who madethis disclosure. " Albert and Beauchamp parted, the last pressure oftheir hands expressing what their tongues could not before a stranger.

"Beauchamp is a worthy fellow, " said Monte Cristo, when the journalistwas gone; "is he not, Albert?"

"Yes, and a sincere friend; I love him devotedly. But now we arealone, --although it is immaterial to me, --where are we going?"

"Into Normandy, if you like. "

"Delightful; shall we be quite retired? have no society, no neighbors?"

"Our companions will be riding-horses, dogs to hunt with, and afishing-boat. "

"Exactly what I wish for; I will apprise my mother of my intention, andreturn to you. "

"But shall you be allowed to go into Normandy?"

"I may go where I please. "

"Yes, I am aware you may go alone, since I once met you in Italy--but toaccompany the mysterious Monte Cristo?"

"You forget, count, that I have often told you of the deep interest mymother takes in you. "

"'Woman is fickle. ' said Francis I. ; 'woman is like a wave of the sea, 'said Shakespeare; both the great king and the great poet ought to haveknown woman's nature well. "

"Woman's, yes; my mother is not woman, but a woman. "

"As I am only a humble foreigner, you must pardon me if I do notunderstand all the subtle refinements of your language. "

"What I mean to say is, that my mother is not quick to give herconfidence, but when she does she never changes. "

"Ah, yes, indeed, " said Monte Cristo with a sigh; "and do you think sheis in the least interested in me?"

"I repeat it, you must really be a very strange and superior man, for mymother is so absorbed by the interest you have excited, that when I amwith her she speaks of no one else. "

"And does she try to make you dislike me?"

"On the contrary, she often says, 'Morcerf, I believe the count has anoble nature; try to gain his esteem. '"

"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo, sighing.

"You see, then, " said Albert, "that instead of opposing, she willencourage me. "

"Adieu, then, until five o'clock; be punctual, and we shall arrive attwelve or one. "

"At Treport?"

"Yes; or in the neighborhood. "

"But can we travel forty-eight leagues in eight hours?"

"Easily, " said Monte Cristo.

"You are certainly a prodigy; you will soon not only surpass therailway, which would not be very difficult in France, but even thetelegraph. "

"But, viscount, since we cannot perform the journey in less than sevenor eight hours, do not keep me waiting. "

"Do not fear, I have little to prepare. " Monte Cristo smiled as henodded to Albert, then remained a moment absorbed in deep meditation. But passing his hand across his forehead as if to dispel his revery, he rang the bell twice and Bertuccio entered. "Bertuccio, " said he, "Iintend going this evening to Normandy, instead of to-morrow or thenext day. You will have sufficient time before five o'clock; despatch amessenger to apprise the grooms at the first station. M. De Morcerf willaccompany me. " Bertuccio obeyed and despatched a courier to Pontoise tosay the travelling-carriage would arrive at six o'clock. From Pontoiseanother express was sent to the next stage, and in six hours all thehorses stationed on the road were ready. Before his departure, thecount went to Haidee's apartments, told her his intention, and resignedeverything to her care. Albert was punctual. The journey soon becameinteresting from its rapidity, of which Morcerf had formed no previousidea. "Truly, " said Monte Cristo, "with your posthorses going at therate of two leagues an hour, and that absurd law that one travellershall not pass another without permission, so that an invalid orill-tempered traveller may detain those who are well and active, it isimpossible to move; I escape this annoyance by travelling with my ownpostilion and horses; do I not, Ali?"

The count put his head out of the window and whistled, and the horsesappeared to fly. The carriage rolled with a thundering noise over thepavement, and every one turned to notice the dazzling meteor. Ali, smiling, repeated the sound, grasped the reins with a firm hand, andspurred his horses, whose beautiful manes floated in the breeze. Thischild of the desert was in his element, and with his black face andsparkling eyes appeared, in the cloud of dust he raised, like the geniusof the simoom and the god of the hurricane. "I never knew till now thedelight of speed, " said Morcerf, and the last cloud disappeared fromhis brow; "but where the devil do you get such horses? Are they made toorder?"

"Precisely, " said the count; "six years since I bought a horse inHungary remarkable for its swiftness. The thirty-two that we shalluse to-night are its progeny; they are all entirely black, with theexception of a star upon the forehead. "

"That is perfectly admirable; but what do you do, count, with all thesehorses?"

"You see, I travel with them. "

"But you are not always travelling. "

"When I no longer require them, Bertuccio will sell them, and he expectsto realize thirty or forty thousand francs by the sale. "

"But no monarch in Europe will be wealthy enough to purchase them. "

"Then he will sell them to some Eastern vizier, who will empty hiscoffers to purchase them, and refill them by applying the bastinado tohis subjects. "

"Count, may I suggest one idea to you?"

"Certainly. "

"It is that, next to you, Bertuccio must be the richest gentleman inEurope. "

"You are mistaken, viscount; I believe he has not a franc in hispossession. "

"Then he must be a wonder. My dear count, if you tell me many moremarvellous things, I warn you I shall not believe them. "

"I countenance nothing that is marvellous, M. Albert. Tell me, why doesa steward rob his master?"

"Because, I suppose, it is his nature to do so, for the love ofrobbing. "

"You are mistaken; it is because he has a wife and family, and ambitiousdesires for himself and them. Also because he is not sure of alwaysretaining his situation, and wishes to provide for the future. Now, M. Bertuccio is alone in the world; he uses my property without accountingfor the use he makes of it; he is sure never to leave my service. "

"Why?"

"Because I should never get a better. "

"Probabilities are deceptive. "

"But I deal in certainties; he is the best servant over whom one has thepower of life and death. "

"Do you possess that right over Bertuccio?"

"Yes. "

There are words which close a conversation with an iron door; such wasthe count's "yes. " The whole journey was performed with equal rapidity;the thirty-two horses, dispersed over seven stages, brought them totheir destination in eight hours. At midnight they arrived at the gateof a beautiful park. The porter was in attendance; he had been apprisedby the groom of the last stage of the count's approach. At half past twoin the morning Morcerf was conducted to his apartments, where a bath andsupper were prepared. The servant who had travelled at the back ofthe carriage waited on him; Baptistin, who rode in front, attended thecount. Albert bathed, took his supper, and went to bed. All night he waslulled by the melancholy noise of the surf. On rising, he went to hiswindow, which opened on a terrace, having the sea in front, and at theback a pretty park bounded by a small forest. In a creek lay a littlesloop, with a narrow keel and high masts, bearing on its flag the MonteCristo arms which were a mountain on a sea azure, with a cross guleson the shield. Around the schooner lay a number of small fishing-boatsbelonging to the fishermen of the neighboring village, like humblesubjects awaiting orders from their queen. There, as in every spot whereMonte Cristo stopped, if but for two days, luxury abounded and life wenton with the utmost ease.

Albert found in his anteroom two guns, with all the accoutrements forhunting; a lofty room on the ground-floor containing all the ingeniousinstruments the English--eminent in piscatory pursuits, since theyare patient and sluggish--have invented for fishing. The day passed inpursuing those exercises in which Monte Cristo excelled. They killeda dozen pheasants in the park, as many trout in the stream, dined in asummer-house overlooking the ocean, and took tea in the library.

Towards the evening of the third day. Albert, completely exhaustedwith the exercise which invigorated Monte Cristo, was sleeping inan arm-chair near the window, while the count was designing with hisarchitect the plan of a conservatory in his house, when the sound ofa horse at full speed on the high road made Albert look up. He wasdisagreeably surprised to see his own valet de chambre, whom he had notbrought, that he might not inconvenience Monte Cristo.

"Florentin here!" cried he, starting up; "is my mother ill?" And hehastened to the door. Monte Cristo watched and saw him approach thevalet, who drew a small sealed parcel from his pocket, containing anewspaper and a letter. "From whom is this?" said he eagerly. "From M. Beauchamp, " replied Florentin.

"Did he send you?"

"Yes, sir; he sent for me to his house, gave me money for my journey, procured a horse, and made me promise not to stop till I had reachedyou, I have come in fifteen hours. "

Albert opened the letter with fear, uttered a shriek on reading thefirst line, and seized the paper. His sight was dimmed, his legs sankunder him, and he would have fallen had not Florentin supported him.

"Poor young man, " said Monte Cristo in a low voice; "it is then truethat the sin of the father shall fall on the children to the third andfourth generation. " Meanwhile Albert had revived, and, continuing toread, he threw back his head, saying, "Florentin, is your horse fit toreturn immediately?"

"It is a poor lame post-horse. "

"In what state was the house when you left?"

"All was quiet, but on returning from M. Beauchamp's, I found madame intears: she had sent for me to know when you would return. I told her myorders from M. Beauchamp; she first extended her arms to prevent me, butafter a moment's reflection, 'Yes, go, Florentin, ' said she, 'and may hecome quickly. '"

"Yes, my mother, " said Albert, "I will return, and woe to the infamouswretch! But first of all I must get there. "

He went back to the room where he had left Monte Cristo. Five minuteshad sufficed to make a complete transformation in his appearance. Hisvoice had become rough and hoarse; his face was furrowed with wrinkles;his eyes burned under the blue-veined lids, and he tottered like adrunken man. "Count, " said he, "I thank you for your hospitality, whichI would gladly have enjoyed longer; but I must return to Paris. "

"What has happened?"

"A great misfortune, more important to me than life. Don't question me, I beg of you, but lend me a horse. "

"My stables are at your command, viscount; but you will kill yourself byriding on horseback. Take a post-chaise or a carriage. "

"No, it would delay me, and I need the fatigue you warn me of; it willdo me good. " Albert reeled as if he had been shot, and fell on a chairnear the door. Monte Cristo did not see this second manifestation ofphysical exhaustion; he was at the window, calling, "Ali, a horse forM. De Morcerf--quick! he is in a hurry!" These words restored Albert;he darted from the room, followed by the count. "Thank you!" cried he, throwing himself on his horse. "Return as soon as you can, Florentin. Must I use any password to procure a horse?"

"Only dismount; another will be immediately saddled. " Albert hesitated amoment. "You may think my departure strange and foolish, " said the youngman; "you do not know how a paragraph in a newspaper may exasperate one. Read that, " said he, "when I am gone, that you may not be witness of myanger. "

While the count picked up the paper he put spurs to his horse, whichleaped in astonishment at such an unusual stimulus, and shot awaywith the rapidity of an arrow. The count watched him with a feeling ofcompassion, and when he had completely disappeared, read as follows:--

"The French officer in the service of Ali Pasha of Yanina alluded tothree weeks since in the Impartial, who not only surrendered the castleof Yanina, but sold his benefactor to the Turks, styled himself truly atthat time Fernand, as our esteemed contemporary states; but he has sinceadded to his Christian name a title of nobility and a family name. Henow calls himself the Count of Morcerf, and ranks among the peers. "

Thus the terrible secret, which Beauchamp had so generously destroyed, appeared again like an armed phantom; and another paper, deriving itsinformation from some malicious source, had published two days afterAlbert's departure for Normandy the few lines which had rendered theunfortunate young man almost crazy.

Chapter 86. The Trial.

At eight o'clock in the morning Albert had arrived at Beauchamp'sdoor. The valet de chambre had received orders to usher him in at once. Beauchamp was in his bath. "Here I am, " said Albert.

"Well, my poor friend, " replied Beauchamp, "I expected you. "

"I need not say I think you are too faithful and too kind to have spokenof that painful circumstance. Your having sent for me is another proofof your affection. So, without losing time, tell me, have you theslightest idea whence this terrible blow proceeds?"

"I think I have some clew. "

"But first tell me all the particulars of this shameful plot. " Beauchampproceeded to relate to the young man, who was overwhelmed with shameand grief, the following facts. Two days previously, the article hadappeared in another paper besides the Impartial, and, what was moreserious, one that was well known as a government paper. Beauchamp wasbreakfasting when he read the paragraph. He sent immediately for acabriolet, and hastened to the publisher's office. Although professingdiametrically opposite principles from those of the editor of the otherpaper, Beauchamp--as it sometimes, we may say often, happens--washis intimate friend. The editor was reading, with apparent delight, aleading article in the same paper on beet-sugar, probably a compositionof his own.

"Ah, pardieu, " said Beauchamp, "with the paper in your hand, my friend, I need not tell you the cause of my visit. "

"Are you interested in the sugar question?" asked the editor of theministerial paper.

"No, " replied Beauchamp, "I have not considered the question; a totallydifferent subject interests me. "

"What is it?"

"The article relative to Morcerf. "

"Indeed? Is it not a curious affair?"

"So curious, that I think you are running a great risk of a prosecutionfor defamation of character. "

"Not at all; we have received with the information all the requisiteproofs, and we are quite sure M. De Morcerf will not raise his voiceagainst us; besides, it is rendering a service to one's country todenounce these wretched criminals who are unworthy of the honor bestowedon them. " Beauchamp was thunderstruck. "Who, then, has so correctlyinformed you?" asked he; "for my paper, which gave the first informationon the subject, has been obliged to stop for want of proof; and yet weare more interested than you in exposing M. De Morcerf, as he is a peerof France, and we are of the opposition. "

"Oh, that is very simple; we have not sought to scandalize. This newswas brought to us. A man arrived yesterday from Yanina, bringing aformidable array of documents; and when we hesitated to publish theaccusatory article, he told us it should be inserted in some otherpaper. "

Beauchamp understood that nothing remained but to submit, and left theoffice to despatch a courier to Morcerf. But he had been unable to sendto Albert the following particulars, as the events had transpired afterthe messenger's departure; namely, that the same day a great agitationwas manifest in the House of Peers among the usually calm members ofthat dignified assembly. Every one had arrived almost before the usualhour, and was conversing on the melancholy event which was to attractthe attention of the public towards one of their most illustriouscolleagues. Some were perusing the article, others making comments andrecalling circumstances which substantiated the charges still more. TheCount of Morcerf was no favorite with his colleagues. Like all upstarts, he had had recourse to a great deal of haughtiness to maintain hisposition. The true nobility laughed at him, the talented repelled him, and the honorable instinctively despised him. He was, in fact, in theunhappy position of the victim marked for sacrifice; the finger of Godonce pointed at him, every one was prepared to raise the hue and cry.

The Count of Morcerf alone was ignorant of the news. He did not take inthe paper containing the defamatory article, and had passed the morningin writing letters and in trying a horse. He arrived at his usual hour, with a proud look and insolent demeanor; he alighted, passed through thecorridors, and entered the house without observing the hesitation ofthe door-keepers or the coolness of his colleagues. Business had alreadybeen going on for half an hour when he entered. Every one held theaccusing paper, but, as usual, no one liked to take upon himself theresponsibility of the attack. At length an honorable peer, Morcerf'sacknowledged enemy, ascended the tribune with that solemnity whichannounced that the expected moment had arrived. There was an impressivesilence; Morcerf alone knew not why such profound attention was given toan orator who was not always listened to with so much complacency. Thecount did not notice the introduction, in which the speaker announcedthat his communication would be of that vital importance that itdemanded the undivided attention of the House; but at the mention ofYanina and Colonel Fernand, he turned so frightfully pale that everymember shuddered and fixed his eyes upon him. Moral wounds have thispeculiarity, --they may be hidden, but they never close; always painful, always ready to bleed when touched, they remain fresh and open in theheart.

The article having been read during the painful hush that followed, auniversal shudder pervaded the assembly, and immediately the closestattention was given to the orator as he resumed his remarks. He statedhis scruples and the difficulties of the case; it was the honor of M. De Morcerf, and that of the whole House, he proposed to defend, byprovoking a debate on personal questions, which are always such painfulthemes of discussion. He concluded by calling for an investigation, which might dispose of the calumnious report before it had time tospread, and restore M. De Morcerf to the position he had long held inpublic opinion. Morcerf was so completely overwhelmed by this great andunexpected calamity that he could scarcely stammer a few words as helooked around on the assembly. This timidity, which might proceed fromthe astonishment of innocence as well as the shame of guilt, conciliatedsome in his favor; for men who are truly generous are always ready tocompassionate when the misfortune of their enemy surpasses the limits oftheir hatred.

The president put it to the vote, and it was decided that theinvestigation should take place. The count was asked what time herequired to prepare his defence. Morcerf's courage had revived when hefound himself alive after this horrible blow. "My lords, " answeredhe, "it is not by time I could repel the attack made on me by enemiesunknown to me, and, doubtless, hidden in obscurity; it is immediately, and by a thunderbolt, that I must repel the flash of lightning which, for a moment, startled me. Oh, that I could, instead of taking up thisdefence, shed my last drop of blood to prove to my noble colleagues thatI am their equal in worth. " These words made a favorable impression onbehalf of the accused. "I demand, then, that the examination shalltake place as soon as possible, and I will furnish the house with allnecessary information. "

"What day do you fix?" asked the president.

"To-day I am at your service, " replied the count. The president rangthe bell. "Does the House approve that the examination should take placeto-day?"

"Yes, " was the unanimous answer.

A committee of twelve members was chosen to examine the proofs broughtforward by Morcerf. The investigation would begin at eight o'clock thatevening in the committee-room, and if postponement were necessary, theproceedings would be resumed each evening at the same hour. Morcerfasked leave to retire; he had to collect the documents he had long beenpreparing against this storm, which his sagacity had foreseen.

Albert listened, trembling now with hope, then with anger, and thenagain with shame, for from Beauchamp's confidence he knew his father wasguilty, and he asked himself how, since he was guilty, he could provehis innocence. Beauchamp hesitated to continue his narrative. "Whatnext?" asked Albert.

"What next? My friend, you impose a painful task on me. Must you knowall?"

"Absolutely; and rather from your lips than another's. "

"Muster up all your courage, then, for never have you required it more. "Albert passed his hand over his forehead, as if to try his strength, asa man who is preparing to defend his life proves his shield and bendshis sword. He thought himself strong enough, for he mistook fever forenergy. "Go on, " said he.

"The evening arrived; all Paris was in expectation. Many said yourfather had only to show himself to crush the charge against him; manyothers said he would not appear; while some asserted that they had seenhim start for Brussels; and others went to the police-office to inquireif he had taken out a passport. I used all my influence with one of thecommittee, a young peer of my acquaintance, to get admission to one ofthe galleries. He called for me at seven o'clock, and, before any onehad arrived, asked one of the door-keepers to place me in a box. I wasconcealed by a column, and might witness the whole of the terriblescene which was about to take place. At eight o'clock all were in theirplaces, and M. De Morcerf entered at the last stroke. He held somepapers in his hand; his countenance was calm, and his step firm, and hewas dressed with great care in his military uniform, which was buttonedcompletely up to the chin. His presence produced a good effect. Thecommittee was made up of Liberals, several of whom came forward to shakehands with him. "

Albert felt his heart bursting at these particulars, but gratitudemingled with his sorrow: he would gladly have embraced those who hadgiven his father this proof of esteem at a moment when his honor was sopowerfully attacked. "At this moment one of the door-keepers broughtin a letter for the president. 'You are at liberty to speak, M. DeMorcerf, ' said the president, as he unsealed the letter; and the countbegan his defence, I assure you, Albert, in a most eloquent and skilfulmanner. He produced documents proving that the Vizier of Yanina had upto the last moment honored him with his entire confidence, since he hadinterested him with a negotiation of life and death with the emperor. Heproduced the ring, his mark of authority, with which Ali Pasha generallysealed his letters, and which the latter had given him, that he might, on his return at any hour of the day or night, gain access to thepresence, even in the harem. Unfortunately, the negotiation failed, andwhen he returned to defend his benefactor, he was dead. 'But, ' said thecount, 'so great was Ali Pasha's confidence, that on his death-bed heresigned his favorite mistress and her daughter to my care. '" Albertstarted on hearing these words; the history of Haidee recurred to him, and he remembered what she had said of that message and the ring, andthe manner in which she had been sold and made a slave. "And what effectdid this discourse produce?" anxiously inquired Albert. "I acknowledgeit affected me, and, indeed, all the committee also, " said Beauchamp.

"Meanwhile, the president carelessly opened the letter which had beenbrought to him; but the first lines aroused his attention; he read themagain and again, and fixing his eyes on M. De Morcerf, 'Count, ' said he, 'you have said that the Vizier of Yanina confided his wife and daughterto your care?'--'Yes, sir, ' replied Morcerf; 'but in that, like all therest, misfortune pursued me. On my return, Vasiliki and her daughterHaidee had disappeared. '--'Did you know them?'--'My intimacy with thepasha and his unlimited confidence had gained me an introduction tothem, and I had seen them above twenty times. '

"'Have you any idea what became of them?'--'Yes, sir; I heard they hadfallen victims to their sorrow, and, perhaps, to their poverty. I wasnot rich; my life was in constant danger; I could not seek them, to mygreat regret. ' The president frowned imperceptibly. 'Gentlemen, ' saidhe, 'you have heard the Comte de Morcerf's defence. Can you, sir, produce any witnesses to the truth of what you have asserted?'--'Alas, no, monsieur, ' replied the count; 'all those who surrounded the vizier, or who knew me at his court, are either dead or gone away, I know notwhere. I believe that I alone, of all my countrymen, survived thatdreadful war. I have only the letters of Ali Tepelini, which I haveplaced before you; the ring, a token of his good-will, which is here;and, lastly, the most convincing proof I can offer, after an anonymousattack, and that is the absence of any witness against my veracity andthe purity of my military life. ' A murmur of approbation ran through theassembly; and at this moment, Albert, had nothing more transpired, yourfather's cause had been gained. It only remained to put it to the vote, when the president resumed: 'Gentlemen and you, monsieur, --you willnot be displeased, I presume, to listen to one who calls himself a veryimportant witness, and who has just presented himself. He is, doubtless, come to prove the perfect innocence of our colleague. Here is a letterI have just received on the subject; shall it be read, or shall itbe passed over? and shall we take no notice of this incident?' M. DeMorcerf turned pale, and clinched his hands on the papers he held. The committee decided to hear the letter; the count was thoughtful andsilent. The president read:--



"'Mr. President, --I can furnish the committee of inquiry into theconduct of the Lieutenant-General the Count of Morcerf in Epirus and inMacedonia with important particulars. '

"The president paused, and the count turned pale. The president lookedat his auditors. 'Proceed, ' was heard on all sides. The presidentresumed:--

"'I was on the spot at the death of Ali Pasha. I was present during hislast moments. I know what is become of Vasiliki and Haidee. I am at thecommand of the committee, and even claim the honor of being heard. Ishall be in the lobby when this note is delivered to you. '

"'And who is this witness, or rather this enemy?' asked the count, ina tone in which there was a visible alteration. 'We shall know, sir, ' replied the president. 'Is the committee willing to hear thiswitness?'--'Yes, yes, ' they all said at once. The door-keeper wascalled. 'Is there any one in the lobby?' said the president.

"'Yes, sir. '--'Who is it?'--'A woman, accompanied by a servant. ' Everyone looked at his neighbor. 'Bring her in, ' said the president. Fiveminutes after the door-keeper again appeared; all eyes were fixed onthe door, and I, " said Beauchamp, "shared the general expectation andanxiety. Behind the door-keeper walked a woman enveloped in a largeveil, which completely concealed her. It was evident, from her figureand the perfumes she had about her, that she was young and fastidious inher tastes, but that was all. The president requested her to throwaside her veil, and it was then seen that she was dressed in the Greciancostume, and was remarkably beautiful. "

"Ah, " said Albert, "it was she. "

"Who?"

"Haidee. "

"Who told you that?"

"Alas, I guess it. But go on, Beauchamp. You see I am calm and strong. And yet we must be drawing near the disclosure. "

"M. De Morcerf, " continued Beauchamp, "looked at this woman withsurprise and terror. Her lips were about to pass his sentence of life ordeath. To the committee the adventure was so extraordinary and curious, that the interest they had felt for the count's safety became now quitea secondary matter. The president himself advanced to place a seat forthe young lady; but she declined availing herself of it. As for thecount, he had fallen on his chair; it was evident that his legs refusedto support him.

"'Madame, ' said the president, 'you have engaged to furnish thecommittee with some important particulars respecting the affairat Yanina, and you have stated that you were an eyewitness of theevent. '--'I was, indeed, ' said the stranger, with a tone of sweetmelancholy, and with the sonorous voice peculiar to the East.

"'But allow me to say that you must have been very young then. '--'I wasfour years old; but as those events deeply concerned me, not a singledetail has escaped my memory. '--'In what manner could these eventsconcern you? and who are you, that they should have made so deep animpression on you?'--'On them depended my father's life, ' replied she. 'I am Haidee, the daughter of Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and ofVasiliki, his beloved wife. '

"The blush of mingled pride and modesty which suddenly suffused thecheeks of the young woman, the brilliancy of her eye, and her highlyimportant communication, produced an indescribable effect on theassembly. As for the count, he could not have been more overwhelmed ifa thunderbolt had fallen at his feet and opened an immense gulf beforehim. 'Madame, ' replied the president, bowing with profound respect, 'allow me to ask one question; it shall be the last: Can you prove theauthenticity of what you have now stated?'--'I can, sir, ' said Haidee, drawing from under her veil a satin satchel highly perfumed; 'for hereis the register of my birth, signed by my father and his principalofficers, and that of my baptism, my father having consented to my beingbrought up in my mother's faith, --this latter has been sealed by thegrand primate of Macedonia and Epirus; and lastly (and perhaps the mostimportant), the record of the sale of my person and that of my motherto the Armenian merchant El-Kobbir, by the French officer, who, in hisinfamous bargain with the Porte, had reserved as his part of the bootythe wife and daughter of his benefactor, whom he sold for the sum offour hundred thousand francs. ' A greenish pallor spread over the count'scheeks, and his eyes became bloodshot at these terrible imputations, which were listened to by the assembly with ominous silence.

"Haidee, still calm, but with a calmness more dreadful than the anger ofanother would have been, handed to the president the record of her sale, written in Arabic. It had been supposed some of the papers might be inthe Arabian, Romaic, or Turkish language, and the interpreter of theHouse was in attendance. One of the noble peers, who was familiarwith the Arabic language, having studied it during the famous Egyptiancampaign, followed with his eye as the translator read aloud:--

"'I, El-Kobbir, a slave-merchant, and purveyor of the harem of hishighness, acknowledge having received for transmission to the sublimeemperor, from the French lord, the Count of Monte Cristo, an emeraldvalued at eight hundred thousand francs; as the ransom of a youngChristian slave of eleven years of age, named Haidee, the acknowledgeddaughter of the late lord Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and ofVasiliki, his favorite; she having been sold to me seven yearspreviously, with her mother, who had died on arriving at Constantinople, by a French colonel in the service of the Vizier Ali Tepelini, namedFernand Mondego. The above-mentioned purchase was made on his highness'saccount, whose mandate I had, for the sum of four hundred thousandfrancs.

"'Given at Constantinople, by authority of his highness, in the year1247 of the Hegira.

"'Signed El-Kobbir. '

"'That this record should have all due authority, it shall bear theimperial seal, which the vendor is bound to have affixed to it. '

"Near the merchant's signature there was, indeed, the seal of thesublime emperor. A dreadful silence followed the reading of thisdocument; the count could only stare, and his gaze, fixed as ifunconsciously on Haidee, seemed one of fire and blood. 'Madame, ' saidthe president, 'may reference be made to the Count of Monte Cristo, who is now, I believe, in Paris?'--'Sir, ' replied Haidee, 'the Countof Monte Cristo, my foster-father, has been in Normandy the last threedays. '

"'Who, then, has counselled you to take this step, one for whichthe court is deeply indebted to you, and which is perfectly natural, considering your birth and your misfortunes?'--'Sir, ' replied Haidee, 'I have been led to take this step from a feeling of respect and grief. Although a Christian, may God forgive me, I have always sought torevenge my illustrious father. Since I set my foot in France, and knewthe traitor lived in Paris, I have watched carefully. I live retiredin the house of my noble protector, but I do it from choice. I loveretirement and silence, because I can live with my thoughts andrecollections of past days. But the Count of Monte Cristo surrounds mewith every paternal care, and I am ignorant of nothing which passes inthe world. I learn all in the silence of my apartments, --for instance, Isee all the newspapers, every periodical, as well as every new piece ofmusic; and by thus watching the course of the life of others, I learnedwhat had transpired this morning in the House of Peers, and what was totake place this evening; then I wrote. '

"'Then, ' remarked the president, 'the Count of Monte Cristo knowsnothing of your present proceedings?'--'He is quite unaware of them, andI have but one fear, which is that he should disapprove of what Ihave done. But it is a glorious day for me, ' continued the young girl, raising her ardent gaze to heaven, 'that on which I find at last anopportunity of avenging my father!'

"The count had not uttered one word the whole of this time. Hiscolleagues looked at him, and doubtless pitied his prospects, blightedunder the perfumed breath of a woman. His misery was depicted insinister lines on his countenance. 'M. De Morcerf, ' said the president, 'do you recognize this lady as the daughter of Ali Tepelini, pasha ofYanina?'--'No, ' said Morcerf, attempting to rise, 'it is a base plot, contrived by my enemies. ' Haidee, whose eyes had been fixed on thedoor, as if expecting some one, turned hastily, and, seeing the countstanding, shrieked, 'You do not know me?' said she. 'Well, I fortunatelyrecognize you! You are Fernand Mondego, the French officer who ledthe troops of my noble father! It is you who surrendered the castle ofYanina! It is you who, sent by him to Constantinople, to treat with theemperor for the life or death of your benefactor, brought back a falsemandate granting full pardon! It is you who, with that mandate, obtainedthe pasha's ring, which gave you authority over Selim, the fire-keeper!It is you who stabbed Selim. It is you who sold us, my mother and me, tothe merchant, El-Kobbir! Assassin, assassin, assassin, you have still onyour brow your master's blood! Look, gentlemen, all!'

"These words had been pronounced with such enthusiasm and evident truth, that every eye was fixed on the count's forehead, and he himself passedhis hand across it, as if he felt Ali's blood still lingering there. 'You positively recognize M. De Morcerf as the officer, FernandMondego?'--'Indeed I do!' cried Haidee. 'Oh, my mother, it was you whosaid, "You were free, you had a beloved father, you were destined to bealmost a queen. Look well at that man; it is he who raised your father'shead on the point of a spear; it is he who sold us; it is he who forsookus! Look well at his right hand, on which he has a large wound; if youforgot his features, you would know him by that hand, into which fell, one by one, the gold pieces of the merchant El-Kobbir!" I know him!Ah, let him say now if he does not recognize me!' Each word fell like adagger on Morcerf, and deprived him of a portion of his energy; as sheuttered the last, he hid his mutilated hand hastily in his bosom, andfell back on his seat, overwhelmed by wretchedness and despair. Thisscene completely changed the opinion of the assembly respecting theaccused count.

"'Count of Morcerf, ' said the president, 'do not allow yourself to becast down; answer. The justice of the court is supreme and impartial asthat of God; it will not suffer you to be trampled on by your enemieswithout giving you an opportunity of defending yourself. Shall furtherinquiries be made? Shall two members of the House be sent to Yanina?Speak!' Morcerf did not reply. Then all the members looked at each otherwith terror. They knew the count's energetic and violent temper; it mustbe, indeed, a dreadful blow which would deprive him of courage to defendhimself. They expected that his stupefied silence would be followed by afiery outburst. 'Well, ' asked the president, 'what is your decision?'

"'I have no reply to make, ' said the count in a low tone.

"'Has the daughter of Ali Tepelini spoken the truth?' said thepresident. 'Is she, then, the terrible witness to whose charge you darenot plead "Not guilty"? Have you really committed the crimes of whichyou are accused?' The count looked around him with an expression whichmight have softened tigers, but which could not disarm his judges. Thenhe raised his eyes towards the ceiling, but withdrew then, immediately, as if he feared the roof would open and reveal to his distressed viewthat second tribunal called heaven, and that other judge named God. Then, with a hasty movement, he tore open his coat, which seemed tostifle him, and flew from the room like a madman; his footstep was heardone moment in the corridor, then the rattling of his carriage-wheelsas he was driven rapidly away. 'Gentlemen, ' said the president, whensilence was restored, 'is the Count of Morcerf convicted of felony, treason, and conduct unbecoming a member of this House?'--'Yes, ' repliedall the members of the committee of inquiry with a unanimous voice.

"Haidee had remained until the close of the meeting. She heard thecount's sentence pronounced without betraying an expression of joy orpity; then drawing her veil over her face she bowed majestically to thecouncillors, and left with that dignified step which Virgil attributesto his goddesses. "

Chapter 87. The Challenge.

"Then, " continued Beauchamp, "I took advantage of the silence andthe darkness to leave the house without being seen. The usher whohad introduced me was waiting for me at the door, and he conducted methrough the corridors to a private entrance opening into the Rue deVaugirard. I left with mingled feelings of sorrow and delight. Excuseme, Albert, --sorrow on your account, and delight with that noble girl, thus pursuing paternal vengeance. Yes, Albert, from whatever source theblow may have proceeded--it may be from an enemy, but that enemy is onlythe agent of providence. " Albert held his head between his hands;he raised his face, red with shame and bathed in tears, and seizingBeauchamp's arm, "My friend, " said he, "my life is ended. I cannotcalmly say with you, 'Providence has struck the blow;' but I mustdiscover who pursues me with this hatred, and when I have found him Ishall kill him, or he will kill me. I rely on your friendship to assistme, Beauchamp, if contempt has not banished it from your heart. "

"Contempt, my friend? How does this misfortune affect you? No, happilythat unjust prejudice is forgotten which made the son responsible forthe father's actions. Review your life, Albert; although it is only justbeginning, did a lovely summer's day ever dawn with greater purity thanhas marked the commencement of your career? No, Albert, take my advice. You are young and rich--leave Paris--all is soon forgotten in this greatBabylon of excitement and changing tastes. You will return after threeor four years with a Russian princess for a bride, and no one will thinkmore of what occurred yesterday than if it had happened sixteen yearsago. "

"Thank you, my dear Beauchamp, thank you for the excellent feelingwhich prompts your advice; but it cannot be. I have told you my wish, orrather my determination. You understand that, interested as I am in thisaffair, I cannot see it in the same light as you do. What appears to youto emanate from a celestial source, seems to me to proceed from one farless pure. Providence appears to me to have no share in this affair; andhappily so, for instead of the invisible, impalpable agent of celestialrewards and punishments, I shall find one both palpable and visible, on whom I shall revenge myself, I assure you, for all I have sufferedduring the last month. Now, I repeat, Beauchamp, I wish to returnto human and material existence, and if you are still the friend youprofess to be, help me to discover the hand that struck the blow. "

"Be it so, " said Beauchamp; "if you must have me descend to earth, Isubmit; and if you will seek your enemy, I will assist you, and Iwill engage to find him, my honor being almost as deeply interested asyours. "

"Well, then, you understand, Beauchamp, that we begin our searchimmediately. Each moment's delay is an eternity for me. The calumniatoris not yet punished, and he may hope that he will not be; but, on myhonor, if he thinks so, he deceives himself. "

"Well, listen, Morcerf. "

"Ah, Beauchamp, I see you know something already; you will restore me tolife. "

"I do not say there is any truth in what I am going to tell you, but itis, at least, a ray of light in a dark night; by following it we may, perhaps, discover something more certain. "

"Tell me; satisfy my impatience. "

"Well, I will tell you what I did not like to mention on my return fromYanina. "

"Say on. "

"I went, of course, to the chief banker of the town to make inquiries. At the first word, before I had even mentioned your father's name"--

"'Ah, ' said he. 'I guess what brings you here. '

"'How, and why?'

"'Because a fortnight since I was questioned on the same subject. '

"'By whom?'--'By a Paris banker, my correspondent. '

"'Whose name is'--

"'Danglars. '"

"He!" cried Albert; "yes, it is indeed he who has so long pursued myfather with jealous hatred. He, the man who would be popular, cannotforgive the Count of Morcerf for being created a peer; and this marriagebroken off without a reason being assigned--yes, it is all from the samecause. "

"Make inquiries, Albert, but do not be angry without reason; makeinquiries, and if it be true"--

"Oh, yes, if it be true, " cried the young man, "he shall pay me all Ihave suffered. "

"Beware, Morcerf, he is already an old man. "

"I will respect his age as he has respected the honor of my family; ifmy father had offended him, why did he not attack him personally? Oh, no, he was afraid to encounter him face to face. "

"I do not condemn you, Albert; I only restrain you. Act prudently. "

"Oh, do not fear; besides, you will accompany me. Beauchamp, solemntransactions should be sanctioned by a witness. Before this day closes, if M. Danglars is guilty, he shall cease to live, or I shall die. Pardieu, Beauchamp, mine shall be a splendid funeral!"

"When such resolutions are made, Albert, they should be promptlyexecuted. Do you wish to go to M. Danglars? Let us go immediately. " Theysent for a cabriolet. On entering the banker's mansion, they perceivedthe phaeton and servant of M. Andrea Cavalcanti. "Ah, parbleu, that'sgood, " said Albert, with a gloomy tone. "If M. Danglars will not fightwith me, I will kill his son-in-law; Cavalcanti will certainly fight. "The servant announced the young man; but the banker, recollectingwhat had transpired the day before, did not wish him admitted. It was, however, too late; Albert had followed the footman, and, hearing theorder given, forced the door open, and followed by Beauchamp foundhimself in the banker's study. "Sir, " cried the latter, "am I no longerat liberty to receive whom I choose in my house? You appear to forgetyourself sadly. "

"No, sir, " said Albert, coldly; "there are circumstances in which onecannot, except through cowardice, --I offer you that refuge, --refuse toadmit certain persons at least. "

"What is your errand, then, with me, sir?"

"I mean, " said Albert, drawing near, and without apparently noticingCavalcanti, who stood with his back towards the fireplace--"I mean topropose a meeting in some retired corner where no one will interrupt usfor ten minutes; that will be sufficient--where two men having met, oneof them will remain on the ground. " Danglars turned pale; Cavalcantimoved a step forward, and Albert turned towards him. "And you, too, "said he, "come, if you like, monsieur; you have a claim, being almostone of the family, and I will give as many rendezvous of that kind as Ican find persons willing to accept them. " Cavalcanti looked at Danglarswith a stupefied air, and the latter, making an effort, arose andstepped between the two young men. Albert's attack on Andrea had placedhim on a different footing, and he hoped this visit had another causethan that he had at first supposed.

"Indeed, sir, " said he to Albert, "if you are come to quarrel with thisgentleman because I have preferred him to you, I shall resign the caseto the king's attorney. "

"You mistake, sir, " said Morcerf with a gloomy smile; "I am notreferring in the least to matrimony, and I only addressed myself to M. Cavalcanti because he appeared disposed to interfere between us. In onerespect you are right, for I am ready to quarrel with every one to-day;but you have the first claim, M. Danglars. "

"Sir, " replied Danglars, pale with anger and fear, "I warn you, whenI have the misfortune to meet with a mad dog, I kill it; and far fromthinking myself guilty of a crime, I believe I do society a kindness. Now, if you are mad and try to bite me, I will kill you without pity. Isit my fault that your father has dishonored himself?"

"Yes, miserable wretch!" cried Morcerf, "it is your fault. " Danglarsretreated a few steps. "My fault?" said he; "you must be mad! What doI know of the Grecian affair? Have I travelled in that country? Did Iadvise your father to sell the castle of Yanina--to betray"--

"Silence!" said Albert, with a thundering voice. "No; it is not you whohave directly made this exposure and brought this sorrow on us, but youhypocritically provoked it. "

"I?"

"Yes; you! How came it known?"

"I suppose you read it in the paper in the account from Yanina?"

"Who wrote to Yanina?"

"To Yanina?"

"Yes. Who wrote for particulars concerning my father?"

"I imagine any one may write to Yanina. "

"But one person only wrote!"

"One only?"

"Yes; and that was you!"

"I, doubtless, wrote. It appears to me that when about to marry yourdaughter to a young man, it is right to make some inquiries respectinghis family; it is not only a right, but a duty. "

"You wrote, sir, knowing what answer you would receive. "

"I, indeed? I assure you, " cried Danglars, with a confidence andsecurity proceeding less from fear than from the interest he really feltfor the young man, "I solemnly declare to you, that I should neverhave thought of writing to Yanina, did I know anything of Ali Pasha'smisfortunes. "

"Who, then, urged you to write? Tell me. "

"Pardieu, it was the most simple thing in the world. I was speaking ofyour father's past history. I said the origin of his fortune remainedobscure. The person to whom I addressed my scruples asked me where yourfather had acquired his property? I answered, 'In Greece. '--'Then, ' saidhe, 'write to Yanina. '"

"And who thus advised you?"

"No other than your friend, Monte Cristo. "

"The Count of Monte Cristo told you to write to Yanina?"

"Yes; and I wrote, and will show you my correspondence, if you like. "Albert and Beauchamp looked at each other. "Sir, " said Beauchamp, whohad not yet spoken, "you appear to accuse the count, who is absent fromParis at this moment, and cannot justify himself. "

"I accuse no one, sir, " said Danglars; "I relate, and I will repeatbefore the count what I have said to you. "

"Does the count know what answer you received?"

"Yes; I showed it to him. "

"Did he know my father's Christian name was Fernand, and his family nameMondego?"

"Yes, I had told him that long since, and I did only what any otherwould have done in my circumstances, and perhaps less. When, the dayafter the arrival of this answer, your father came by the advice ofMonte Cristo to ask my daughter's hand for you, I decidedly refused him, but without any explanation or exposure. In short, why should I haveany more to do with the affair? How did the honor or disgrace of M. DeMorcerf affect me? It neither increased nor decreased my income. "

Albert felt the blood mounting to his brow; there was no doubt upon thesubject. Danglars defended himself with the baseness, but at the sametime with the assurance, of a man who speaks the truth, at leastin part, if not wholly--not for conscience' sake, but through fear. Besides, what was Morcerf seeking? It was not whether Danglars or MonteCristo was more or less guilty; it was a man who would answer for theoffence, whether trifling or serious; it was a man who would fight, and it was evident Danglars would not fight. And, in addition to this, everything forgotten or unperceived before presented itself now tohis recollection. Monte Cristo knew everything, as he had bought thedaughter of Ali Pasha; and, knowing everything, he had advised Danglarsto write to Yanina. The answer known, he had yielded to Albert's wishto be introduced to Haidee, and allowed the conversation to turn onthe death of Ali, and had not opposed Haidee's recital (but having, doubtless, warned the young girl, in the few Romaic words he spoke toher, not to implicate Morcerf's father). Besides, had he not begged ofMorcerf not to mention his father's name before Haidee? Lastly, he hadtaken Albert to Normandy when he knew the final blow was near. Therecould be no doubt that all had been calculated and previously arranged;Monte Cristo then was in league with his father's enemies. Albert tookBeauchamp aside, and communicated these ideas to him.

"You are right, " said the latter; "M. Danglars has only been a secondaryagent in this sad affair, and it is of M. De Monte Cristo that youmust demand an explanation. " Albert turned. "Sir, " said he to Danglars, "understand that I do not take a final leave of you; I must ascertain ifyour insinuations are just, and am going now to inquire of the Countof Monte Cristo. " He bowed to the banker, and went out with Beauchamp, without appearing to notice Cavalcanti. Danglars accompanied him to thedoor, where he again assured Albert that no motive of personal hatredhad influenced him against the Count of Morcerf.

Chapter 88. The Insult.

At the banker's door Beauchamp stopped Morcerf. "Listen, " said he;"just now I told you it was of M. De Monte Cristo you must demand anexplanation. "

"Yes; and we are going to his house. "

"Reflect, Morcerf, one moment before you go. "

"On what shall I reflect?"

"On the importance of the step you are taking. "

"Is it more serious than going to M. Danglars?"

"Yes; M. Danglars is a money-lover, and those who love money, you know, think too much of what they risk to be easily induced to fight a duel. The other is, on the contrary, to all appearance a true nobleman; but doyou not fear to find him a bully?"

"I only fear one thing; namely, to find a man who will not fight. "

"Do not be alarmed, " said Beauchamp; "he will meet you. My only fear isthat he will be too strong for you. "

"My friend, " said Morcerf, with a sweet smile, "that is what I wish. Thehappiest thing that could occur to me, would be to die in my father'sstead; that would save us all. "

"Your mother would die of grief. "

"My poor mother!" said Albert, passing his hand across his eyes, "I knowshe would; but better so than die of shame. "

"Are you quite decided, Albert?"

"Yes; let us go. "

"But do you think we shall find the count at home?"

"He intended returning some hours after me, and doubtless he is now athome. " They ordered the driver to take them to No. 30 Champs-Elysees. Beauchamp wished to go in alone, but Albert observed that as this wasan unusual circumstance he might be allowed to deviate from the usualetiquette in affairs of honor. The cause which the young man espousedwas one so sacred that Beauchamp had only to comply with all his wishes;he yielded and contented himself with following Morcerf. Albert sprangfrom the porter's lodge to the steps. He was received by Baptistin. The count had, indeed, just arrived, but he was in his bath, and hadforbidden that any one should be admitted. "But after his bath?" askedMorcerf.

"My master will go to dinner. "

"And after dinner?"

"He will sleep an hour. "

"Then?"

"He is going to the opera. "

"Are you sure of it?" asked Albert.

"Quite, sir; my master has ordered his horses at eight o'clockprecisely. "

"Very good, " replied Albert; "that is all I wished to know. " Then, turning towards Beauchamp, "If you have anything to attend to, Beauchamp, do it directly; if you have any appointment for this evening, defer it till tomorrow. I depend on you to accompany me to the opera;and if you can, bring Chateau-Renaud with you. "

Beauchamp availed himself of Albert's permission, and left him, promising to call for him at a quarter before eight. On his return home, Albert expressed his wish to Franz Debray, and Morrel, to see them atthe opera that evening. Then he went to see his mother, who since theevents of the day before had refused to see any one, and had kepther room. He found her in bed, overwhelmed with grief at this publichumiliation. The sight of Albert produced the effect which mightnaturally be expected on Mercedes; she pressed her son's hand and sobbedaloud, but her tears relieved her. Albert stood one moment speechless bythe side of his mother's bed. It was evident from his pale face and knitbrows that his resolution to revenge himself was growing weaker. "Mydear mother, " said he, "do you know if M. De Morcerf has any enemy?"Mercedes started; she noticed that the young man did not say "myfather. " "My son, " she said, "persons in the count's situation have manysecret enemies. Those who are known are not the most dangerous. "

"I know it, and appeal to your penetration. You are of so superior amind, nothing escapes you. "

"Why do you say so?"

"Because, for instance, you noticed on the evening of the ball we gave, that M. De Monte Cristo would eat nothing in our house. " Mercedes raisedherself on her feverish arm. "M. De Monte Cristo!" she exclaimed; "andhow is he connected with the question you asked me?"

"You know, mother, M. De Monte Cristo is almost an Oriental, and it iscustomary with the Orientals to secure full liberty for revenge by noteating or drinking in the houses of their enemies. "

"Do you say M. De Monte Cristo is our enemy?" replied Mercedes, becomingpaler than the sheet which covered her. "Who told you so? Why, you aremad, Albert! M. De Monte Cristo has only shown us kindness. M. De MonteCristo saved your life; you yourself presented him to us. Oh, I entreatyou, my son, if you had entertained such an idea, dispel it; and mycounsel to you--nay, my prayer--is to retain his friendship. "

"Mother, " replied the young man, "you have especial reasons for tellingme to conciliate that man. "

"I?" said Mercedes, blushing as rapidly as she had turned pale, andagain becoming paler than ever.

"Yes, doubtless; and is it not that he may never do us any harm?"Mercedes shuddered, and, fixing on her son a scrutinizing gaze, "Youspeak strangely, " said she to Albert, "and you appear to have somesingular prejudices. What has the count done? Three days since you werewith him in Normandy; only three days since we looked on him as our bestfriend. "

An ironical smile passed over Albert's lips. Mercedes saw it and withthe double instinct of woman and mother guessed all; but as she wasprudent and strong-minded she concealed both her sorrows and her fears. Albert was silent; an instant after, the countess resumed: "You came toinquire after my health; I will candidly acknowledge that I am not well. You should install yourself here, and cheer my solitude. I do not wishto be left alone. "

"Mother, " said the young man, "you know how gladly I would obey yourwish, but an urgent and important affair obliges me to leave you for thewhole evening. "

"Well, " replied Mercedes, sighing, "go, Albert; I will not make you aslave to your filial piety. " Albert pretended he did not hear, bowedto his mother, and quitted her. Scarcely had he shut her door, whenMercedes called a confidential servant, and ordered him to follow Albertwherever he should go that evening, and to come and tell her immediatelywhat he observed. Then she rang for her lady's maid, and, weak as shewas, she dressed, in order to be ready for whatever might happen. Thefootman's mission was an easy one. Albert went to his room, and dressedwith unusual care. At ten minutes to eight Beauchamp arrived; he hadseen Chateau-Renaud, who had promised to be in the orchestra before thecurtain was raised. Both got into Albert's coupe; and, as the young manhad no reason to conceal where he was going, he called aloud, "Tothe opera. " In his impatience he arrived before the beginning of theperformance.

Chateau-Renaud was at his post; apprised by Beauchamp of thecircumstances, he required no explanation from Albert. The conductof the son in seeking to avenge his father was so natural thatChateau-Renaud did not seek to dissuade him, and was content withrenewing his assurances of devotion. Debray was not yet come, but Albertknew that he seldom lost a scene at the opera. Albert wandered aboutthe theatre until the curtain was drawn up. He hoped to meet with M. DeMonte Cristo either in the lobby or on the stairs. The bell summonedhim to his seat, and he entered the orchestra with Chateau-Renaud andBeauchamp. But his eyes scarcely quitted the box between the columns, which remained obstinately closed during the whole of the first act. Atlast, as Albert was looking at his watch for about the hundredth time, at the beginning of the second act the door opened, and Monte Cristoentered, dressed in black, and, leaning over the front of the box, looked around the pit. Morrel followed him, and looked also for hissister and brother in-law; he soon discovered them in another box, andkissed his hand to them.

The count, in his survey of the pit, encountered a pale face andthreatening eyes, which evidently sought to gain his attention. Herecognized Albert, but thought it better not to notice him, as he lookedso angry and discomposed. Without communicating his thoughts to hiscompanion, he sat down, drew out his opera-glass, and looked anotherway. Although apparently not noticing Albert, he did not, however, losesight of him, and when the curtain fell at the end of the second act, hesaw him leave the orchestra with his two friends. Then his head wasseen passing at the back of the boxes, and the count knew that theapproaching storm was intended to fall on him. He was at the momentconversing cheerfully with Morrel, but he was well prepared for whatmight happen. The door opened, and Monte Cristo, turning round, sawAlbert, pale and trembling, followed by Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud.

"Well, " cried he, with that benevolent politeness which distinguishedhis salutation from the common civilities of the world, "my cavalier hasattained his object. Good-evening, M. De Morcerf. " The countenance ofthis man, who possessed such extraordinary control over his feelings, expressed the most perfect cordiality. Morrel only then recollected theletter he had received from the viscount, in which, without assigningany reason, he begged him to go to the opera, but he understood thatsomething terrible was brooding.

"We are not come here, sir, to exchange hypocritical expressions ofpoliteness, or false professions of friendship, " said Albert, "but todemand an explanation. " The young man's trembling voice was scarcelyaudible. "An explanation at the opera?" said the count, with that calmtone and penetrating eye which characterize the man who knows his causeis good. "Little acquainted as I am with the habits of Parisians, Ishould not have thought this the place for such a demand. "

"Still, if people will shut themselves up, " said Albert, "and cannotbe seen because they are bathing, dining, or asleep, we must availourselves of the opportunity whenever they are to be seen. "

"I am not difficult of access, sir; for yesterday, if my memory does notdeceive me, you were at my house. "

"Yesterday I was at your house, sir, " said the young man; "because thenI knew not who you were. " In pronouncing these words Albert had raisedhis voice so as to be heard by those in the adjoining boxes and in thelobby. Thus the attention of many was attracted by this altercation. "Where are you come from, sir? You do not appear to be in the possessionof your senses. "

"Provided I understand your perfidy, sir, and succeed in making youunderstand that I will be revenged, I shall be reasonable enough, " saidAlbert furiously.

"I do not understand you, sir, " replied Monte Cristo; "and if I did, your tone is too high. I am at home here, and I alone have a rightto raise my voice above another's. Leave the box, sir!" Monte Cristopointed towards the door with the most commanding dignity. "Ah, I shallknow how to make you leave your home!" replied Albert, clasping in hisconvulsed grasp the glove, which Monte Cristo did not lose sight of.



"Well, well, " said Monte Cristo quietly, "I see you wish to quarrel withme; but I would give you one piece of advice, which you will do wellto keep in mind. It is in poor taste to make a display of a challenge. Display is not becoming to every one, M. De Morcerf. "

At this name a murmur of astonishment passed around the group ofspectators of this scene. They had talked of no one but Morcerf thewhole day. Albert understood the allusion in a moment, and was aboutto throw his glove at the count, when Morrel seized his hand, whileBeauchamp and Chateau-Renaud, fearing the scene would surpass the limitsof a challenge, held him back. But Monte Cristo, without rising, andleaning forward in his chair, merely stretched out his arm and, takingthe damp, crushed glove from the clinched hand of the young man, "Sir, "said he in a solemn tone, "I consider your glove thrown, and will returnit to you wrapped around a bullet. Now leave me or I will summon myservants to throw you out at the door. "

Wild, almost unconscious, and with eyes inflamed, Albert stepped back, and Morrel closed the door. Monte Cristo took up his glass again as ifnothing had happened; his face was like marble, and his heart was likebronze. Morrel whispered, "What have you done to him?"

"I? Nothing--at least personally, " said Monte Cristo.

"But there must be some cause for this strange scene. "

"The Count of Morcerf's adventure exasperates the young man. "

"Have you anything to do with it?"

"It was through Haidee that the Chamber was informed of his father'streason. "

"Indeed?" said Morrel. "I had been told, but would not credit it, thatthe Grecian slave I have seen with you here in this very box was thedaughter of Ali Pasha. "

"It is true, nevertheless. "

"Then, " said Morrel, "I understand it all, and this scene waspremeditated. "

"How so?"

"Yes. Albert wrote to request me to come to the opera, doubtless that Imight be a witness to the insult he meant to offer you. "

"Probably, " said Monte Cristo with his imperturbable tranquillity.

"But what shall you do with him?"

"With whom?"

"With Albert. "

"What shall I do with Albert? As certainly, Maximilian, as I now pressyour hand, I shall kill him before ten o'clock to-morrow morning. "Morrel, in his turn, took Monte Cristo's hand in both of his, and heshuddered to feel how cold and steady it was.

"Ah, Count, " said he, "his father loves him so much!"

"Do not speak to me of that, " said Monte Cristo, with the first movementof anger he had betrayed; "I will make him suffer. " Morrel, amazed, letfall Monte Cristo's hand. "Count, count!" said he.

"Dear Maximilian, " interrupted the count, "listen how adorably Duprez issinging that line, --

'O Mathilde! idole de mon ame!'

"I was the first to discover Duprez at Naples, and the first toapplaud him. Bravo, bravo!" Morrel saw it was useless to say more, andrefrained. The curtain, which had risen at the close of the scene withAlbert, again fell, and a rap was heard at the door.

"Come in, " said Monte Cristo with a voice that betrayed not theleast emotion; and immediately Beauchamp appeared. "Good-evening, M. Beauchamp, " said Monte Cristo, as if this was the first time he had seenthe journalist that evening; "be seated. "

Beauchamp bowed, and, sitting down, "Sir, " said he, "I just nowaccompanied M. De Morcerf, as you saw. "

"And that means, " replied Monte Cristo, laughing, "that you had, probably, just dined together. I am happy to see, M. Beauchamp, that youare more sober than he was. "

"Sir, " said M. Beauchamp, "Albert was wrong, I acknowledge, to betrayso much anger, and I come, on my own account, to apologize for him. Andhaving done so, entirely on my own account, be it understood, I wouldadd that I believe you too gentlemanly to refuse giving him someexplanation concerning your connection with Yanina. Then I will addtwo words about the young Greek girl. " Monte Cristo motioned him to besilent. "Come, " said he, laughing, "there are all my hopes about to bedestroyed. "

"How so?" asked Beauchamp.

"Doubtless you wish to make me appear a very eccentric character. I am, in your opinion, a Lara, a Manfred, a Lord Ruthven; then, just as I amarriving at the climax, you defeat your own end, and seek to make anordinary man of me. You bring me down to your own level, and demandexplanations! Indeed, M. Beauchamp, it is quite laughable. "

"Yet, " replied Beauchamp haughtily, "there are occasions when probitycommands"--

"M. Beauchamp, " interposed this strange man, "the Count of Monte Cristobows to none but the Count of Monte Cristo himself. Say no more, Ientreat you. I do what I please, M. Beauchamp, and it is always welldone. "

"Sir, " replied the young man, "honest men are not to be paid with suchcoin. I require honorable guaranties. "

"I am, sir, a living guaranty, " replied Monte Cristo, motionless, butwith a threatening look; "we have both blood in our veins which we wishto shed--that is our mutual guaranty. Tell the viscount so, and thatto-morrow, before ten o'clock, I shall see what color his is. "

"Then I have only to make arrangements for the duel, " said Beauchamp.

"It is quite immaterial to me, " said Monte Cristo, "and it was veryunnecessary to disturb me at the opera for such a trifle. In Francepeople fight with the sword or pistol, in the colonies with the carbine, in Arabia with the dagger. Tell your client that, although I am theinsulted party, in order to carry out my eccentricity, I leave him thechoice of arms, and will accept without discussion, without dispute, anything, even combat by drawing lots, which is always stupid, but withme different from other people, as I am sure to gain. "

"Sure to gain!" repeated Beauchamp, looking with amazement at the count.

"Certainly, " said Monte Cristo, slightly shrugging his shoulders;"otherwise I would not fight with M. De Morcerf. I shall kill him--Icannot help it. Only by a single line this evening at my house let meknow the arms and the hour; I do not like to be kept waiting. "

"Pistols, then, at eight o'clock, in the Bois de Vincennes, " saidBeauchamp, quite disconcerted, not knowing if he was dealing with anarrogant braggadocio or a supernatural being.

"Very well, sir, " said Monte Cristo. "Now all that is settled, do letme see the performance, and tell your friend Albert not to come any morethis evening; he will hurt himself with all his ill-chosen barbarisms:let him go home and go to sleep. " Beauchamp left the box, perfectlyamazed. "Now, " said Monte Cristo, turning towards Morrel, "I may dependupon you, may I not?"

"Certainly, " said Morrel, "I am at your service, count; still"--

"What?"

"It is desirable I should know the real cause. "

"That is to say, you would rather not?"

"No. "

"The young man himself is acting blindfolded, and knows not the truecause, which is known only to God and to me; but I give you my word, Morrel, that God, who does know it, will be on our side. "

"Enough, " said Morrel; "who is your second witness?"

"I know no one in Paris, Morrel, on whom I could confer that honorbesides you and your brother Emmanuel. Do you think Emmanuel wouldoblige me?"

"I will answer for him, count. "

"Well? that is all I require. To-morrow morning, at seven o'clock, youwill be with me, will you not?"

"We will. "

"Hush, the curtain is rising. Listen! I never lose a note of this operaif I can avoid it; the music of William Tell is so sweet. "

Chapter 89. A Nocturnal Interview.

Monte Cristo waited, according to his usual custom, until Duprez hadsung his famous "Suivez-moi;" then he rose and went out. Morrel tookleave of him at the door, renewing his promise to be with him the nextmorning at seven o'clock, and to bring Emmanuel. Then he stepped intohis coupe, calm and smiling, and was at home in five minutes. No one whoknew the count could mistake his expression when, on entering, he said, "Ali, bring me my pistols with the ivory cross. "

Ali brought the box to his master, who examined the weapons with asolicitude very natural to a man who is about to intrust his life to alittle powder and shot. These were pistols of an especial pattern, whichMonte Cristo had had made for target practice in his own room. A cap wassufficient to drive out the bullet, and from the adjoining room no onewould have suspected that the count was, as sportsmen would say, keepinghis hand in. He was just taking one up and looking for the point to aimat on a little iron plate which served him as a target, when his studydoor opened, and Baptistin entered. Before he had spoken a word, thecount saw in the next room a veiled woman, who had followed closelyafter Baptistin, and now, seeing the count with a pistol in his hand andswords on the table, rushed in. Baptistin looked at his master, who madea sign to him, and he went out, closing the door after him. "Who areyou, madame?" said the count to the veiled woman.

The stranger cast one look around her, to be certain that they werequite alone; then bending as if she would have knelt, and joining herhands, she said with an accent of despair, "Edmond, you will not kill myson?" The count retreated a step, uttered a slight exclamation, and letfall the pistol he held. "What name did you pronounce then, Madame deMorcerf?" said he. "Yours!" cried she, throwing back her veil, --"yours, which I alone, perhaps, have not forgotten. Edmond, it is not Madame deMorcerf who is come to you, it is Mercedes. "

"Mercedes is dead, madame, " said Monte Cristo; "I know no one now ofthat name. "

"Mercedes lives, sir, and she remembers, for she alone recognizedyou when she saw you, and even before she saw you, by your voice, Edmond, --by the simple sound of your voice; and from that moment shehas followed your steps, watched you, feared you, and she needs not toinquire what hand has dealt the blow which now strikes M. De Morcerf. "

"Fernand, do you mean?" replied Monte Cristo, with bitter irony; "sincewe are recalling names, let us remember them all. " Monte Cristo hadpronounced the name of Fernand with such an expression of hatred thatMercedes felt a thrill of horror run through every vein. "You see, Edmond, I am not mistaken, and have cause to say, 'Spare my son!'"

"And who told you, madame, that I have any hostile intentions againstyour son?"

"No one, in truth; but a mother has twofold sight. I guessed all; Ifollowed him this evening to the opera, and, concealed in a parquet box, have seen all. "

"If you have seen all, madame, you know that the son of Fernand haspublicly insulted me, " said Monte Cristo with awful calmness.

"Oh, for pity's sake!"

"You have seen that he would have thrown his glove in my face if Morrel, one of my friends, had not stopped him. "

"Listen to me, my son has also guessed who you are, --he attributes hisfather's misfortunes to you. "

"Madame, you are mistaken, they are not misfortunes, --it is apunishment. It is not I who strike M. De Morcerf; it is providence whichpunishes him. "

"And why do you represent providence?" cried Mercedes. "Why do youremember when it forgets? What are Yanina and its vizier to you, Edmond?What injury his Fernand Mondego done you in betraying Ali Tepelini?"

"Ah, madame, " replied Monte Cristo, "all this is an affair between theFrench captain and the daughter of Vasiliki. It does not concern me, you are right; and if I have sworn to revenge myself, it is not on theFrench captain, or the Count of Morcerf, but on the fisherman Fernand, the husband of Mercedes the Catalane. "

"Ah, sir!" cried the countess, "how terrible a vengeance for a faultwhich fatality made me commit!--for I am the only culprit, Edmond, andif you owe revenge to any one, it is to me, who had not fortitude tobear your absence and my solitude. "

"But, " exclaimed Monte Cristo, "why was I absent? And why were youalone?"

"Because you had been arrested, Edmond, and were a prisoner. "

"And why was I arrested? Why was I a prisoner?"

"I do not know, " said Mercedes. "You do not, madame; at least, I hopenot. But I will tell you. I was arrested and became a prisoner because, under the arbor of La Reserve, the day before I was to marry you, a mannamed Danglars wrote this letter, which the fisherman Fernand himselfposted. " Monte Cristo went to a secretary, opened a drawer by a spring, from which he took a paper which had lost its original color, and theink of which had become of a rusty hue--this he placed in the handsof Mercedes. It was Danglars' letter to the king's attorney, which theCount of Monte Cristo, disguised as a clerk from the house of Thomson &French, had taken from the file against Edmond Dantes, on the day hehad paid the two hundred thousand francs to M. De Boville. Mercedes readwith terror the following lines:--

"The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and religionthat one Edmond Dantes, second in command on board the Pharaon, this dayarrived from Smyrna, after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, is the bearer of a letter from Murat to the usurper, and of anotherletter from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris. Amplecorroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting theabove-mentioned Edmond Dantes, who either carries the letter for Parisabout with him, or has it at his father's abode. Should it not befound in possession of either father or son, then it will assuredlybe discovered in the cabin belonging to the said Dantes on board thePharaon. "

"How dreadful!" said Mercedes, passing her hand across her brow, moistwith perspiration; "and that letter"--

"I bought it for two hundred thousand francs, madame, " said MonteCristo; "but that is a trifle, since it enables me to justify myself toyou. "

"And the result of that letter"--

"You well know, madame, was my arrest; but you do not know how long thatarrest lasted. You do not know that I remained for fourteen years withina quarter of a league of you, in a dungeon in the Chateau d'If. You donot know that every day of those fourteen years I renewed the vow ofvengeance which I had made the first day; and yet I was not aware thatyou had married Fernand, my calumniator, and that my father had died ofhunger!"

"Can it be?" cried Mercedes, shuddering.

"That is what I heard on leaving my prison fourteen years after I hadentered it; and that is why, on account of the living Mercedes and mydeceased father, I have sworn to revenge myself on Fernand, and--I haverevenged myself. "

"And you are sure the unhappy Fernand did that?"

"I am satisfied, madame, that he did what I have told you; besides, thatis not much more odious than that a Frenchman by adoption should passover to the English; that a Spaniard by birth should have fought againstthe Spaniards; that a stipendiary of Ali should have betrayed andmurdered Ali. Compared with such things, what is the letter you havejust read?--a lover's deception, which the woman who has married thatman ought certainly to forgive; but not so the lover who was to havemarried her. Well, the French did not avenge themselves on the traitor, the Spaniards did not shoot the traitor, Ali in his tomb left thetraitor unpunished; but I, betrayed, sacrificed, buried, have risen frommy tomb, by the grace of God, to punish that man. He sends me for thatpurpose, and here I am. " The poor woman's head and arms fell; her legsbent under her, and she fell on her knees. "Forgive, Edmond, forgive formy sake, who love you still!"

The dignity of the wife checked the fervor of the lover and the mother. Her forehead almost touched the carpet, when the count sprang forwardand raised her. Then seated on a chair, she looked at the manlycountenance of Monte Cristo, on which grief and hatred still impresseda threatening expression. "Not crush that accursed race?" murmured he;"abandon my purpose at the moment of its accomplishment? Impossible, madame, impossible!"

"Edmond, " said the poor mother, who tried every means, "when I call youEdmond, why do you not call me Mercedes?"

"Mercedes!" repeated Monte Cristo; "Mercedes! Well yes, you are right;that name has still its charms, and this is the first time for a longperiod that I have pronounced it so distinctly. Oh, Mercedes, I haveuttered your name with the sigh of melancholy, with the groan of sorrow, with the last effort of despair; I have uttered it when frozen withcold, crouched on the straw in my dungeon; I have uttered it, consumedwith heat, rolling on the stone floor of my prison. Mercedes, I mustrevenge myself, for I suffered fourteen years, --fourteen years I wept, Icursed; now I tell you, Mercedes, I must revenge myself. "

The count, fearing to yield to the entreaties of her he had so ardentlyloved, called his sufferings to the assistance of his hatred. "Revengeyourself, then, Edmond, " cried the poor mother; "but let your vengeancefall on the culprits, --on him, on me, but not on my son!"

"It is written in the good book, " said Monte Cristo, "that the sinsof the fathers shall fall upon their children to the third and fourthgeneration. Since God himself dictated those words to his prophet, whyshould I seek to make myself better than God?"

"Edmond, " continued Mercedes, with her arms extended towards the count, "since I first knew you, I have adored your name, have respected yourmemory. Edmond, my friend, do not compel me to tarnish that noble andpure image reflected incessantly on the mirror of my heart. Edmond, ifyou knew all the prayers I have addressed to God for you while I thoughtyou were living and since I have thought you must be dead! Yes, dead, alas! I imagined your dead body buried at the foot of some gloomy tower, or cast to the bottom of a pit by hateful jailers, and I wept! Whatcould I do for you, Edmond, besides pray and weep? Listen; for tenyears I dreamed each night the same dream. I had been told that you hadendeavored to escape; that you had taken the place of another prisoner;that you had slipped into the winding sheet of a dead body; that you hadbeen thrown alive from the top of the Chateau d'If, and that the cry youuttered as you dashed upon the rocks first revealed to your jailers thatthey were your murderers. Well, Edmond, I swear to you, by the headof that son for whom I entreat your pity, --Edmond, for ten years I sawevery night every detail of that frightful tragedy, and for ten yearsI heard every night the cry which awoke me, shuddering and cold. AndI, too, Edmond--oh! believe me--guilty as I was--oh, yes, I, too, havesuffered much!"

"Have you known what it is to have your father starve to death in yourabsence?" cried Monte Cristo, thrusting his hands into his hair; "haveyou seen the woman you loved giving her hand to your rival, while youwere perishing at the bottom of a dungeon?"

"No, " interrupted Mercedes, "but I have seen him whom I loved on thepoint of murdering my son. " Mercedes uttered these words with such deepanguish, with an accent of such intense despair, that Monte Cristo couldnot restrain a sob. The lion was daunted; the avenger was conquered. "What do you ask of me?" said he, --"your son's life? Well, he shalllive!" Mercedes uttered a cry which made the tears start from MonteCristo's eyes; but these tears disappeared almost instantaneously, for, doubtless, God had sent some angel to collect them--far more preciouswere they in his eyes than the richest pearls of Guzerat and Ophir.

"Oh, " said she, seizing the count's hand and raising it to her lips;"oh, thank you, thank you, Edmond! Now you are exactly what I dreamt youwere, --the man I always loved. Oh, now I may say so!"

"So much the better, " replied Monte Cristo; "as that poor Edmond willnot have long to be loved by you. Death is about to return to the tomb, the phantom to retire in darkness. "

"What do you say, Edmond?"

"I say, since you command me, Mercedes, I must die. "

"Die? and why so? Who talks of dying? Whence have you these ideas ofdeath?"

"You do not suppose that, publicly outraged in the face of awhole theatre, in the presence of your friends and those of yourson--challenged by a boy who will glory in my forgiveness as if it werea victory--you do not suppose that I can for one moment wish to live. What I most loved after you, Mercedes, was myself, my dignity, and thatstrength which rendered me superior to other men; that strength was mylife. With one word you have crushed it, and I die. "

"But the duel will not take place, Edmond, since you forgive?"

"It will take place, " said Monte Cristo, in a most solemn tone; "butinstead of your son's blood to stain the ground, mine will flow. "Mercedes shrieked, and sprang towards Monte Cristo, but, suddenlystopping, "Edmond, " said she, "there is a God above us, since you liveand since I have seen you again; I trust to him from my heart. Whilewaiting his assistance I trust to your word; you have said that my sonshould live, have you not?"

"Yes, madame, he shall live, " said Monte Cristo, surprised that withoutmore emotion Mercedes had accepted the heroic sacrifice he made for her. Mercedes extended her hand to the count.

"Edmond, " said she, and her eyes were wet with tears while looking athim to whom she spoke, "how noble it is of you, how great the action youhave just performed, how sublime to have taken pity on a poor woman whoappealed to you with every chance against her, Alas, I am grown old withgrief more than with years, and cannot now remind my Edmond by a smile, or by a look, of that Mercedes whom he once spent so many hours incontemplating. Ah, believe me, Edmond, as I told you, I too havesuffered much; I repeat, it is melancholy to pass one's life withouthaving one joy to recall, without preserving a single hope; but thatproves that all is not yet over. No, it is not finished; I feel it bywhat remains in my heart. Oh, I repeat it, Edmond; what you have justdone is beautiful--it is grand; it is sublime. "

"Do you say so now, Mercedes?--then what would you say if you knew theextent of the sacrifice I make to you? Suppose that the Supreme Being, after having created the world and fertilized chaos, had paused in thework to spare an angel the tears that might one day flow for mortal sinsfrom her immortal eyes; suppose that when everything was in readinessand the moment had come for God to look upon his work and see that itwas good--suppose he had snuffed out the sun and tossed the world backinto eternal night--then--even then, Mercedes, you could not imaginewhat I lose in sacrificing my life at this moment. " Mercedes looked atthe count in a way which expressed at the same time her astonishment, her admiration, and her gratitude. Monte Cristo pressed his forehead onhis burning hands, as if his brain could no longer bear alone the weightof its thoughts. "Edmond, " said Mercedes, "I have but one word more tosay to you. " The count smiled bitterly. "Edmond, " continued she, "youwill see that if my face is pale, if my eyes are dull, if my beauty isgone; if Mercedes, in short, no longer resembles her former self in herfeatures, you will see that her heart is still the same. Adieu, then, Edmond; I have nothing more to ask of heaven--I have seen you again, and have found you as noble and as great as formerly you were. Adieu, Edmond, adieu, and thank you. "

But the count did not answer. Mercedes opened the door of the study andhad disappeared before he had recovered from the painful and profoundrevery into which his thwarted vengeance had plunged him. The clockof the Invalides struck one when the carriage which conveyed Madamede Morcerf away rolled on the pavement of the Champs-Elysees, and madeMonte Cristo raise his head. "What a fool I was, " said he, "not to tearmy heart out on the day when I resolved to avenge myself!"

Chapter 90. The Meeting.

After Mercedes had left Monte Cristo, he fell into profound gloom. Around him and within him the flight of thought seemed to have stopped;his energetic mind slumbered, as the body does after extreme fatigue. "What?" said he to himself, while the lamp and the wax lights werenearly burnt out, and the servants were waiting impatiently in theanteroom; "what? this edifice which I have been so long preparing, whichI have reared with so much care and toil, is to be crushed by a singletouch, a word, a breath! Yes, this self, of whom I thought so much, ofwhom I was so proud, who had appeared so worthless in the dungeons ofthe Chateau d'If, and whom I had succeeded in making so great, will bebut a lump of clay to-morrow. Alas, it is not the death of the body Iregret; for is not the destruction of the vital principle, the repose towhich everything is tending, to which every unhappy being aspires, --isnot this the repose of matter after which I so long sighed, and whichI was seeking to attain by the painful process of starvation when Fariaappeared in my dungeon? What is death for me? One step farther intorest, --two, perhaps, into silence.

"No, it is not existence, then, that I regret, but the ruin of projectsso slowly carried out, so laboriously framed. Providence is now opposedto them, when I most thought it would be propitious. It is not God'swill that they should be accomplished. This burden, almost as heavy as aworld, which I had raised, and I had thought to bear to the end, was toogreat for my strength, and I was compelled to lay it down in the middleof my career. Oh, shall I then, again become a fatalist, whom fourteenyears of despair and ten of hope had rendered a believer in providence?And all this--all this, because my heart, which I thought dead, was onlysleeping; because it has awakened and has begun to beat again, becauseI have yielded to the pain of the emotion excited in my breast by awoman's voice. Yet, " continued the count, becoming each moment moreabsorbed in the anticipation of the dreadful sacrifice for the morrow, which Mercedes had accepted, "yet, it is impossible that so noble-mindeda woman should thus through selfishness consent to my death when I am inthe prime of life and strength; it is impossible that she can carry tosuch a point maternal love, or rather delirium. There are virtues whichbecome crimes by exaggeration. No, she must have conceived some patheticscene; she will come and throw herself between us; and what would besublime here will there appear ridiculous. " The blush of pride mountedto the count's forehead as this thought passed through his mind. "Ridiculous?" repeated he; "and the ridicule will fall on me. Iridiculous? No, I would rather die. "

By thus exaggerating to his own mind the anticipated ill-fortune of thenext day, to which he had condemned himself by promising Mercedes tospare her son, the count at last exclaimed, "Folly, folly, folly!--tocarry generosity so far as to put myself up as a mark for that young manto aim at. He will never believe that my death was suicide; and yet itis important for the honor of my memory, --and this surely is not vanity, but a justifiable pride, --it is important the world should know thatI have consented, by my free will, to stop my arm, already raised tostrike, and that with the arm which has been so powerful against othersI have struck myself. It must be; it shall be. "

Seizing a pen, he drew a paper from a secret drawer in his desk, andwrote at the bottom of the document (which was no other than his will, made since his arrival in Paris) a sort of codicil, clearly explainingthe nature of his death. "I do this, O my God, " said he, with his eyesraised to heaven, "as much for thy honor as for mine. I have during tenyears considered myself the agent of thy vengeance, and other wretches, like Morcerf, Danglars, Villefort, even Morcerf himself, must notimagine that chance has freed them from their enemy. Let them know, on the contrary, that their punishment, which had been decreed byprovidence, is only delayed by my present determination, and althoughthey escape it in this world, it awaits them in another, and that theyare only exchanging time for eternity. "

While he was thus agitated by gloomy uncertainties, --wretched wakingdreams of grief, --the first rays of morning pierced his windows, andshone upon the pale blue paper on which he had just inscribed hisjustification of providence. It was just five o'clock in the morningwhen a slight noise like a stifled sigh reached his ear. He turned hishead, looked around him, and saw no one; but the sound was repeateddistinctly enough to convince him of its reality.

He arose, and quietly opening the door of the drawing-room, saw Haidee, who had fallen on a chair, with her arms hanging down and her beautifulhead thrown back. She had been standing at the door, to prevent hisgoing out without seeing her, until sleep, which the young cannotresist, had overpowered her frame, wearied as she was with watching. Thenoise of the door did not awaken her, and Monte Cristo gazed at her withaffectionate regret. "She remembered that she had a son, " said he; "andI forgot I had a daughter. " Then, shaking his head sorrowfully, "PoorHaidee, " said he; "she wished to see me, to speak to me; she has fearedor guessed something. Oh, I cannot go without taking leave of her; Icannot die without confiding her to some one. " He quietly regained hisseat, and wrote under the other lines:--

"I bequeath to Maximilian Morrel, captain of Spahis, --and son of myformer patron, Pierre Morrel, shipowner at Marseilles, --the sum oftwenty millions, a part of which may be offered to his sister Julia andbrother-in-law Emmanuel, if he does not fear this increase of fortunemay mar their happiness. These twenty millions are concealed in mygrotto at Monte Cristo, of which Bertuccio knows the secret. If hisheart is free, and he will marry Haidee, the daughter of Ali Pasha ofYanina, whom I have brought up with the love of a father, and whohas shown the love and tenderness of a daughter for me, he will thusaccomplish my last wish. This will has already constituted Haideeheiress of the rest of my fortune, consisting of lands, funds inEngland, Austria, and Holland, furniture in my different palaces andhouses, and which without the twenty millions and the legacies to myservants, may still amount to sixty millions. "

He was finishing the last line when a cry behind him made him start, andthe pen fell from his hand. "Haidee, " said he, "did you read it?"

"Oh, my lord, " said she, "why are you writing thus at such an hour? Whyare you bequeathing all your fortune to me? Are you going to leave me?"

"I am going on a journey, dear child, " said Monte Cristo, with anexpression of infinite tenderness and melancholy; "and if any misfortuneshould happen to me. "

The count stopped. "Well?" asked the young girl, with an authoritativetone the count had never observed before, and which startled him. "Well, if any misfortune happen to me, " replied Monte Cristo, "I wishmy daughter to be happy. " Haidee smiled sorrowfully, and shook her head. "Do you think of dying, my lord?" said she.

"The wise man, my child, has said, 'It is good to think of death. '"

"Well, if you die, " said she, "bequeath your fortune to others, for ifyou die I shall require nothing;" and, taking the paper, she tore it infour pieces, and threw it into the middle of the room. Then, the efforthaving exhausted her strength, she fell not asleep this time, butfainting on the floor. The count leaned over her and raised her in hisarms; and seeing that sweet pale face, those lovely eyes closed, thatbeautiful form motionless and to all appearance lifeless, the ideaoccurred to him for the first time, that perhaps she loved him otherwisethan as a daughter loves a father.

"Alas, " murmured he, with intense suffering, "I might, then, have beenhappy yet. " Then he carried Haidee to her room, resigned her to the careof her attendants, and returning to his study, which he shut quicklythis time, he again copied the destroyed will. As he was finishing, the sound of a cabriolet entering the yard was heard. Monte Cristoapproached the window, and saw Maximilian and Emmanuel alight. "Good, "said he; "it was time, "--and he sealed his will with three seals. Amoment afterwards he heard a noise in the drawing-room, and went to openthe door himself. Morrel was there; he had come twenty minutes beforethe time appointed. "I am perhaps come too soon, count, " said he, "butI frankly acknowledge that I have not closed my eyes all night, norhas any one in my house. I need to see you strong in your courageousassurance, to recover myself. " Monte Cristo could not resist this proofof affection; he not only extended his hand to the young man, but flewto him with open arms. "Morrel, " said he, "it is a happy day for me, tofeel that I am beloved by such a man as you. Good-morning, Emmanuel; youwill come with me then, Maximilian?"

"Did you doubt it?" said the young captain.

"But if I were wrong"--

"I watched you during the whole scene of that challenge yesterday; Ihave been thinking of your firmness all night, and I said to myself thatjustice must be on your side, or man's countenance is no longer to berelied on. "

"But, Morrel, Albert is your friend?"

"Simply an acquaintance, sir. "

"You met on the same day you first saw me?"

"Yes, that is true; but I should not have recollected it if you had notreminded me. "

"Thank you, Morrel. " Then ringing the bell once, "Look. " said he to Ali, who came immediately, "take that to my solicitor. It is my will, Morrel. When I am dead, you will go and examine it. "

"What?" said Morrel, "you dead?"

"Yes; must I not be prepared for everything, dear friend? But what didyou do yesterday after you left me?"

"I went to Tortoni's, where, as I expected, I found Beauchamp andChateau-Renaud. I own I was seeking them. "

"Why, when all was arranged?"

"Listen, count; the affair is serious and unavoidable. "

"Did you doubt it!"

"No; the offence was public, and every one is already talking of it. "

"Well?"

"Well, I hoped to get an exchange of arms, --to substitute the sword forthe pistol; the pistol is blind. "

"Have you succeeded?" asked Monte Cristo quickly, with an imperceptiblegleam of hope.

"No; for your skill with the sword is so well known. "

"Ah?--who has betrayed me?"

"The skilful swordsman whom you have conquered. "

"And you failed?"

"They positively refused. "

"Morrel, " said the count, "have you ever seen me fire a pistol?"

"Never. "

"Well, we have time; look. " Monte Cristo took the pistols he held in hishand when Mercedes entered, and fixing an ace of clubs against the ironplate, with four shots he successively shot off the four sides of theclub. At each shot Morrel turned pale. He examined the bullets withwhich Monte Cristo performed this dexterous feat, and saw that they wereno larger than buckshot. "It is astonishing, " said he. "Look, Emmanuel. "Then turning towards Monte Cristo, "Count, " said he, "in the name ofall that is dear to you, I entreat you not to kill Albert!--the unhappyyouth has a mother. "

"You are right, " said Monte Cristo; "and I have none. " These wordswere uttered in a tone which made Morrel shudder. "You are the offendedparty, count. "

"Doubtless; what does that imply?"

"That you will fire first. "

"I fire first?"

"Oh, I obtained, or rather claimed that; we had conceded enough for themto yield us that. "

"And at what distance?"

"Twenty paces. " A smile of terrible import passed over the count's lips. "Morrel, " said he, "do not forget what you have just seen. "

"The only chance for Albert's safety, then, will arise from youremotion. "

"I suffer from emotion?" said Monte Cristo.



"Or from your generosity, my friend; to so good a marksman as you are, Imay say what would appear absurd to another. "

"What is that?"

"Break his arm--wound him--but do not kill him. "

"I will tell you, Morrel, " said the count, "that I do not needentreating to spare the life of M. De Morcerf; he shall be so wellspared, that he will return quietly with his two friends, while I"--

"And you?"

"That will be another thing; I shall be brought home. "

"No, no, " cried Maximilian, quite unable to restrain his feelings.

"As I told you, my dear Morrel, M. De Morcerf will kill me. " Morrellooked at him in utter amazement. "But what has happened, then, sincelast evening, count?"

"The same thing that happened to Brutus the night before the battle ofPhilippi; I have seen a ghost. "

"And that ghost"--

"Told me, Morrel, that I had lived long enough. " Maximilian and Emmanuellooked at each other. Monte Cristo drew out his watch. "Let us go, " saidhe; "it is five minutes past seven, and the appointment was for eighto'clock. " A carriage was in readiness at the door. Monte Cristo steppedinto it with his two friends. He had stopped a moment in the passageto listen at a door, and Maximilian and Emmanuel, who had consideratelypassed forward a few steps, thought they heard him answer by a sigh to asob from within. As the clock struck eight they drove up to the place ofmeeting. "We are first, " said Morrel, looking out of the window. "Excuseme, sir, " said Baptistin, who had followed his master with indescribableterror, "but I think I see a carriage down there under the trees. "

Monte Cristo sprang lightly from the carriage, and offered his hand toassist Emmanuel and Maximilian. The latter retained the count's handbetween his. "I like, " said he, "to feel a hand like this, when itsowner relies on the goodness of his cause. "

"It seems to me, " said Emmanuel, "that I see two young men down there, who are evidently, waiting. " Monte Cristo drew Morrel a step or twobehind his brother-in-law. "Maximilian, " said he, "are your affectionsdisengaged?" Morrel looked at Monte Cristo with astonishment. "I do notseek your confidence, my dear friend. I only ask you a simple question;answer it;--that is all I require. "

"I love a young girl, count. "

"Do you love her much?"

"More than my life. "

"Another hope defeated!" said the count. Then, with a sigh, "PoorHaidee!" murmured he.

"To tell the truth, count, if I knew less of you, I should think thatyou were less brave than you are. "

"Because I sigh when thinking of some one I am leaving? Come, Morrel, itis not like a soldier to be so bad a judge of courage. Do I regret life?What is it to me, who have passed twenty years between life and death?Moreover, do not alarm yourself, Morrel; this weakness, if it is such, is betrayed to you alone. I know the world is a drawing-room, from whichwe must retire politely and honestly; that is, with a bow, and our debtsof honor paid. "

"That is to the purpose. Have you brought your arms?"

"I?--what for? I hope these gentlemen have theirs. "

"I will inquire, " said Morrel.

"Do; but make no treaty--you understand me?"

"You need not fear. " Morrel advanced towards Beauchamp andChateau-Renaud, who, seeing his intention, came to meet him. The threeyoung men bowed to each other courteously, if not affably.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, " said Morrel, "but I do not see M. De Morcerf. "

"He sent us word this morning, " replied Chateau-Renaud, "that he wouldmeet us on the ground. "

"Ah, " said Morrel. Beauchamp pulled out his watch. "It is only fiveminutes past eight, " said he to Morrel; "there is not much time lostyet. "

"Oh, I made no allusion of that kind, " replied Morrel.

"There is a carriage coming, " said Chateau-Renaud. It advanced rapidlyalong one of the avenues leading towards the open space where they wereassembled. "You are doubtless provided with pistols, gentlemen? M. DeMonte Cristo yields his right of using his. "

"We had anticipated this kindness on the part of the count, " saidBeauchamp, "and I have brought some weapons which I bought eight or tendays since, thinking to want them on a similar occasion. They are quitenew, and have not yet been used. Will you examine them. "

"Oh, M. Beauchamp, if you assure me that M. De Morcerf does not knowthese pistols, you may readily believe that your word will be quitesufficient. "

"Gentlemen, " said Chateau-Renaud, "it is not Morcerf coming in thatcarriage;--faith, it is Franz and Debray!" The two young men heannounced were indeed approaching. "What chance brings you here, gentlemen?" said Chateau-Renaud, shaking hands with each of them. "Because, " said Debray, "Albert sent this morning to request us tocome. " Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud exchanged looks of astonishment. "Ithink I understand his reason, " said Morrel.

"What is it?"

"Yesterday afternoon I received a letter from M. De Morcerf, begging meto attend the opera. "

"And I, " said Debray.

"And I also, " said Franz.

"And we, too, " added Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud.

"Having wished you all to witness the challenge, he now wishes you to bepresent at the combat. "

"Exactly so, " said the young men; "you have probably guessed right. "

"But, after all these arrangements, he does not come himself, " saidChateau-Renaud. "Albert is ten minutes after time. "

"There he comes, " said Beauchamp, "on horseback, at full gallop, followed by a servant. "

"How imprudent, " said Chateau-Renaud, "to come on horseback to fight aduel with pistols, after all the instructions I had given him. "

"And besides, " said Beauchamp, "with a collar above his cravat, anopen coat and white waistcoat! Why has he not painted a spot upon hisheart?--it would have been more simple. " Meanwhile Albert had arrivedwithin ten paces of the group formed by the five young men. He jumpedfrom his horse, threw the bridle on his servant's arms, and joined them. He was pale, and his eyes were red and swollen; it was evident that hehad not slept. A shade of melancholy gravity overspread his countenance, which was not natural to him. "I thank you, gentlemen, " said he, "forhaving complied with my request; I feel extremely grateful for thismark of friendship. " Morrel had stepped back as Morcerf approached, andremained at a short distance. "And to you also, M. Morrel, my thanks aredue. Come, there cannot be too many. "

"Sir, " said Maximilian, "you are not perhaps aware that I am M. De MonteCristo's friend?"

"I was not sure, but I thought it might be so. So much the better; themore honorable men there are here the better I shall be satisfied. "

"M. Morrel, " said Chateau-Renaud, "will you apprise the Count of MonteCristo that M. De Morcerf is arrived, and we are at his disposal?"Morrel was preparing to fulfil his commission. Beauchamp had meanwhiledrawn the box of pistols from the carriage. "Stop, gentlemen, " saidAlbert; "I have two words to say to the Count of Monte Cristo. "

"In private?" asked Morrel.

"No, sir; before all who are here. "

Albert's witnesses looked at each other. Franz and Debray exchanged somewords in a whisper, and Morrel, rejoiced at this unexpected incident, went to fetch the count, who was walking in a retired path withEmmanuel. "What does he want with me?" said Monte Cristo.

"I do not know, but he wishes to speak to you. "

"Ah?" said Monte Cristo, "I trust he is not going to tempt me by somefresh insult!"

"I do not think that such is his intention, " said Morrel.

The count advanced, accompanied by Maximilian and Emmanuel. His calm andserene look formed a singular contrast to Albert's grief-stricken face, who approached also, followed by the other four young men. When at threepaces distant from each other, Albert and the count stopped.

"Approach, gentlemen, " said Albert; "I wish you not to lose one wordof what I am about to have the honor of saying to the Count of MonteCristo, for it must be repeated by you to all who will listen to it, strange as it may appear to you. "

"Proceed, sir, " said the count.

"Sir, " said Albert, at first with a tremulous voice, but which graduallybecame firmer, "I reproached you with exposing the conduct of M. DeMorcerf in Epirus, for guilty as I knew he was, I thought you had noright to punish him; but I have since learned that you had that right. It is not Fernand Mondego's treachery towards Ali Pasha which inducesme so readily to excuse you, but the treachery of the fishermanFernand towards you, and the almost unheard-of miseries which wereits consequences; and I say, and proclaim it publicly, that you werejustified in revenging yourself on my father, and I, his son, thank youfor not using greater severity. "

Had a thunderbolt fallen in the midst of the spectators of thisunexpected scene, it would not have surprised them more than didAlbert's declaration. As for Monte Cristo, his eyes slowly rose towardsheaven with an expression of infinite gratitude. He could not understandhow Albert's fiery nature, of which he had seen so much among the Romanbandits, had suddenly stooped to this humiliation. He recognized theinfluence of Mercedes, and saw why her noble heart had not opposed thesacrifice she knew beforehand would be useless. "Now, sir, " said Albert, "if you think my apology sufficient, pray give me your hand. Next tothe merit of infallibility which you appear to possess, I rank that ofcandidly acknowledging a fault. But this confession concerns me only. Iacted well as a man, but you have acted better than man. An angel alonecould have saved one of us from death--that angel came from heaven, ifnot to make us friends (which, alas, fatality renders impossible), atleast to make us esteem each other. "

Monte Cristo, with moistened eye, heaving breast, and lips half open, extended to Albert a hand which the latter pressed with a sentimentresembling respectful fear. "Gentlemen, " said he, "M. De Monte Cristoreceives my apology. I had acted hastily towards him. Hasty actions aregenerally bad ones. Now my fault is repaired. I hope the world will notcall me cowardly for acting as my conscience dictated. But if any oneshould entertain a false opinion of me, " added he, drawing himself upas if he would challenge both friends and enemies, "I shall endeavor tocorrect his mistake. "

"What happened during the night?" asked Beauchamp of Chateau-Renaud; "weappear to make a very sorry figure here. "

"In truth, what Albert has just done is either very despicable or verynoble, " replied the baron.

"What can it mean?" said Debray to Franz. "The Count of Monte Cristoacts dishonorably to M. De Morcerf, and is justified by his son! Had Iten Yaninas in my family, I should only consider myself the more boundto fight ten times. " As for Monte Cristo, his head was bent down, hisarms were powerless. Bowing under the weight of twenty-fouryears' reminiscences, he thought not of Albert, of Beauchamp, ofChateau-Renaud, or of any of that group; but he thought of thatcourageous woman who had come to plead for her son's life, to whomhe had offered his, and who had now saved it by the revelation of adreadful family secret, capable of destroying forever in that youngman's heart every feeling of filial piety.

"Providence still, " murmured he; "now only am I fully convinced of beingthe emissary of God!"

Chapter 91. Mother and Son.

The Count of Monte Cristo bowed to the five young men with a melancholyand dignified smile, and got into his carriage with Maximilian andEmmanuel. Albert, Beauchamp, and Chateau-Renaud remained alone. Albertlooked at his two friends, not timidly, but in a way that appeared toask their opinion of what he had just done.

"Indeed, my dear friend, " said Beauchamp first, who had either the mostfeeling or the least dissimulation, "allow me to congratulate you; thisis a very unhoped-for conclusion of a very disagreeable affair. "

Albert remained silent and wrapped in thought. Chateau-Renaud contentedhimself with tapping his boot with his flexible cane. "Are we notgoing?" said he, after this embarrassing silence. "When you please, "replied Beauchamp; "allow me only to compliment M. De Morcerf, who hasgiven proof to-day of rare chivalric generosity. "

"Oh, yes, " said Chateau-Renaud.

"It is magnificent, " continued Beauchamp, "to be able to exercise somuch self-control!"

"Assuredly; as for me, I should have been incapable of it, " saidChateau-Renaud, with most significant coolness.

"Gentlemen, " interrupted Albert, "I think you did not understandthat something very serious had passed between M. De Monte Cristo andmyself. "

"Possibly, possibly, " said Beauchamp immediately; "but every simpletonwould not be able to understand your heroism, and sooner or later youwill find yourself compelled to explain it to them more energeticallythan would be convenient to your bodily health and the duration of yourlife. May I give you a friendly counsel? Set out for Naples, the Hague, or St. Petersburg--calm countries, where the point of honor is betterunderstood than among our hot-headed Parisians. Seek quietude andoblivion, so that you may return peaceably to France after a few years. Am I not right, M. De Chateau-Renaud?"

"That is quite my opinion, " said the gentleman; "nothing induces seriousduels so much as a duel forsworn. "

"Thank you, gentlemen, " replied Albert, with a smile of indifference;"I shall follow your advice--not because you give it, but because I hadbefore intended to quit France. I thank you equally for the service youhave rendered me in being my seconds. It is deeply engraved on myheart, and, after what you have just said, I remember that only. "Chateau-Renaud and Beauchamp looked at each other; the impressionwas the same on both of them, and the tone in which Morcerf had justexpressed his thanks was so determined that the position would havebecome embarrassing for all if the conversation had continued.

"Good-by, Albert, " said Beauchamp suddenly, carelessly extending hishand to the young man. The latter did not appear to arouse from hislethargy; in fact, he did not notice the offered hand. "Good-by, " saidChateau-Renaud in his turn, keeping his little cane in his left hand, and saluting with his right. Albert's lips scarcely whispered "Good-by, "but his look was more explicit; it expressed a whole poem of restrainedanger, proud disdain, and generous indignation. He preserved hismelancholy and motionless position for some time after his two friendshad regained their carriage; then suddenly unfastening his horsefrom the little tree to which his servant had tied it, he mounted andgalloped off in the direction of Paris.

In a quarter of an hour he was entering the house in the Rue du Helder. As he alighted, he thought he saw his father's pale face behind thecurtain of the count's bedroom. Albert turned away his head with a sigh, and went to his own apartments. He cast one lingering look on all theluxuries which had rendered life so easy and so happy since hisinfancy; he looked at the pictures, whose faces seemed to smile, and thelandscapes, which appeared painted in brighter colors. Then he took awayhis mother's portrait, with its oaken frame, leaving the gilt frame fromwhich he took it black and empty. Then he arranged all his beautifulTurkish arms, his fine English guns, his Japanese china, his cupsmounted in silver, his artistic bronzes by Feucheres and Barye; examinedthe cupboards, and placed the key in each; threw into a drawer of hissecretary, which he left open, all the pocket-money he had abouthim, and with it the thousand fancy jewels from his vases and hisjewel-boxes; then he made an exact inventory of everything, and placedit in the most conspicuous part of the table, after putting aside thebooks and papers which had collected there.

At the beginning of this work, his servant, notwithstanding orders tothe contrary, came to his room. "What do you want?" asked he, with amore sorrowful than angry tone. "Pardon me, sir, " replied the valet;"you had forbidden me to disturb you, but the Count of Morcerf hascalled me. "

"Well!" said Albert.

"I did not like to go to him without first seeing you. "

"Why?"

"Because the count is doubtless aware that I accompanied you to themeeting this morning. "

"It is probable, " said Albert.

"And since he has sent for me, it is doubtless to question me on whathappened there. What must I answer?"

"The truth. "

"Then I shall say the duel did not take place?"

"You will say I apologized to the Count of Monte Cristo. Go. "

The valet bowed and retired, and Albert returned to his inventory. As hewas finishing this work, the sound of horses prancing in the yard, andthe wheels of a carriage shaking his window, attracted his attention. Heapproached the window, and saw his father get into it, and drive away. The door was scarcely closed when Albert bent his steps to his mother'sroom; and, no one being there to announce him, he advanced to herbed-chamber, and distressed by what he saw and guessed, stopped for onemoment at the door. As if the same idea had animated these two beings, Mercedes was doing the same in her apartments that he had just done inhis. Everything was in order, --laces, dresses, jewels, linen, money, allwere arranged in the drawers, and the countess was carefully collectingthe keys. Albert saw all these preparations and understood them, andexclaiming, "My mother!" he threw his arms around her neck.

The artist who could have depicted the expression of these twocountenances would certainly have made of them a beautiful picture. Allthese proofs of an energetic resolution, which Albert did not fear onhis own account, alarmed him for his mother. "What are you doing?" askedhe.

"What were you doing?" replied she.

"Oh, my mother!" exclaimed Albert, so overcome he could scarcely speak;"it is not the same with you and me--you cannot have made the sameresolution I have, for I have come to warn you that I bid adieu to yourhouse, and--and to you. "

"I also, " replied Mercedes, "am going, and I acknowledge I had dependedon your accompanying me; have I deceived myself?"

"Mother, " said Albert with firmness. "I cannot make you share the fateI have planned for myself. I must live henceforth without rank andfortune, and to begin this hard apprenticeship I must borrow from afriend the loaf I shall eat until I have earned one. So, my dear mother, I am going at once to ask Franz to lend me the small sum I shall requireto supply my present wants. "

"You, my poor child, suffer poverty and hunger? Oh, do not say so; itwill break my resolutions. "

"But not mine, mother, " replied Albert. "I am young and strong; Ibelieve I am courageous, and since yesterday I have learned the powerof will. Alas, my dear mother, some have suffered so much, and yetlive, and have raised a new fortune on the ruin of all the promises ofhappiness which heaven had made them--on the fragments of all the hopewhich God had given them! I have seen that, mother; I know that from thegulf in which their enemies have plunged them they have risen with somuch vigor and glory that in their turn they have ruled their formerconquerors, and have punished them. No, mother; from this moment I havedone with the past, and accept nothing from it--not even a name, becauseyou can understand that your son cannot bear the name of a man who oughtto blush for it before another. "

"Albert, my child, " said Mercedes, "if I had a stronger heart, that isthe counsel I would have given you; your conscience has spoken when myvoice became too weak; listen to its dictates. You had friends, Albert;break off their acquaintance. But do not despair; you have life beforeyou, my dear Albert, for you are yet scarcely twenty-two years old; andas a pure heart like yours wants a spotless name, take my father's--itwas Herrera. I am sure, my dear Albert, whatever may be your career, you will soon render that name illustrious. Then, my son, return to theworld still more brilliant because of your former sorrows; and if I amwrong, still let me cherish these hopes, for I have no future to lookforward to. For me the grave opens when I pass the threshold of thishouse. "

"I will fulfil all your wishes, my dear mother, " said the young man. "Yes, I share your hopes; the anger of heaven will not pursue us, sinceyou are pure and I am innocent. But, since our resolution is formed, let us act promptly. M. De Morcerf went out about half an hour ago; theopportunity is favorable to avoid an explanation. "

"I am ready, my son, " said Mercedes. Albert ran to fetch a carriage. Herecollected that there was a small furnished house to let in the Rue deSaints Peres, where his mother would find a humble but decent lodging, and thither he intended conducting the countess. As the carriage stoppedat the door, and Albert was alighting, a man approached and gave him aletter. Albert recognized the bearer. "From the count, " said Bertuccio. Albert took the letter, opened, and read it, then looked round forBertuccio, but he was gone. He returned to Mercedes with tears in hiseyes and heaving breast, and without uttering a word he gave her theletter. Mercedes read:--

Albert, --While showing you that I have discovered your plans, I hopealso to convince you of my delicacy. You are free, you leave the count'shouse, and you take your mother to your home; but reflect, Albert, youowe her more than your poor noble heart can pay her. Keep the strugglefor yourself, bear all the suffering, but spare her the trial of povertywhich must accompany your first efforts; for she deserves not eventhe shadow of the misfortune which has this day fallen on her, andprovidence is not willing that the innocent should suffer for theguilty. I know you are going to leave the Rue du Helder without takinganything with you. Do not seek to know how I discovered it; I knowit--that is sufficient.

Now, listen, Albert. Twenty-four years ago I returned, proud and joyful, to my country. I had a betrothed, Albert, a lovely girl whom I adored, and I was bringing to my betrothed a hundred and fifty louis, painfullyamassed by ceaseless toil. This money was for her; I destined it forher, and, knowing the treachery of the sea I buried our treasure inthe little garden of the house my father lived in at Marseilles, on theAllees de Meillan. Your mother, Albert, knows that poor house well. Ashort time since I passed through Marseilles, and went to see the oldplace, which revived so many painful recollections; and in the eveningI took a spade and dug in the corner of the garden where I had concealedmy treasure. The iron box was there--no one had touched it--under abeautiful fig-tree my father had planted the day I was born, whichovershadowed the spot. Well, Albert, this money, which was formerlydesigned to promote the comfort and tranquillity of the woman I adored, may now, through strange and painful circumstances, be devoted to thesame purpose. Oh, feel for me, who could offer millions to that poorwoman, but who return her only the piece of black bread forgottenunder my poor roof since the day I was torn from her I loved. You area generous man, Albert, but perhaps you may be blinded by pride orresentment; if you refuse me, if you ask another for what I have a rightto offer you, I will say it is ungenerous of you to refuse the lifeof your mother at the hands of a man whose father was allowed by yourfather to die in all the horrors of poverty and despair.

Albert stood pale and motionless to hear what his mother would decideafter she had finished reading this letter. Mercedes turned her eyeswith an ineffable look towards heaven. "I accept it, " said she; "he hasa right to pay the dowry, which I shall take with me to some convent!"Putting the letter in her bosom, she took her son's arm, and with afirmer step than she even herself expected she went down-stairs.

Chapter 92. The Suicide.

Meanwhile Monte Cristo had also returned to town with Emmanuel andMaximilian. Their return was cheerful. Emmanuel did not conceal hisjoy at the peaceful termination of the affair, and was loud in hisexpressions of delight. Morrel, in a corner of the carriage, allowed hisbrother-in-law's gayety to expend itself in words, while he felt equalinward joy, which, however, betrayed itself only in his countenance. At the Barriere du Trone they met Bertuccio, who was waiting there, motionless as a sentinel at his post. Monte Cristo put his head outof the window, exchanged a few words with him in a low tone, and thesteward disappeared. "Count, " said Emmanuel, when they were at the endof the Place Royale, "put me down at my door, that my wife may not havea single moment of needless anxiety on my account or yours. "

"If it were not ridiculous to make a display of our triumph, I wouldinvite the count to our house; besides that, he doubtless has sometrembling heart to comfort. So we will take leave of our friend, and lethim hasten home. "

"Stop a moment, " said Monte Cristo; "do not let me lose both mycompanions. Return, Emmanuel, to your charming wife, and present mybest compliments to her; and do you, Morrel, accompany me to the ChampsElysees. "

"Willingly, " said Maximilian; "particularly as I have business in thatquarter. "

"Shall we wait breakfast for you?" asked Emmanuel.

"No, " replied the young man. The door was closed, and the carriageproceeded. "See what good fortune I brought you!" said Morrel, when hewas alone with the count. "Have you not thought so?"

"Yes, " said Monte Cristo; "for that reason I wished to keep you nearme. "

"It is miraculous!" continued Morrel, answering his own thoughts.

"What?" said Monte Cristo.

"What has just happened. "

"Yes, " said the Count, "you are right--it is miraculous. "

"For Albert is brave, " resumed Morrel.

"Very brave, " said Monte Cristo; "I have seen him sleep with a swordsuspended over his head. "

"And I know he has fought two duels, " said Morrel. "How can youreconcile that with his conduct this morning?"

"All owing to your influence, " replied Monte Cristo, smiling.

"It is well for Albert he is not in the army, " said Morrel.

"Why?"

"An apology on the ground!" said the young captain, shaking his head.

"Come, " said the count mildly, "do not entertain the prejudices ofordinary men, Morrel! Acknowledge, that if Albert is brave, he cannotbe a coward; he must then have had some reason for acting as he did thismorning, and confess that his conduct is more heroic than otherwise. "

"Doubtless, doubtless, " said Morrel; "but I shall say, like theSpaniard, 'He has not been so brave to-day as he was yesterday. '"

"You will breakfast with me, will you not, Morrel?" said the count, toturn the conversation.

"No; I must leave you at ten o'clock. "

"Your engagement was for breakfast, then?" said the count.

Morrel smiled, and shook his head. "Still you must breakfast somewhere. "

"But if I am not hungry?" said the young man.

"Oh, " said the count, "I only know two things which destroy theappetite, --grief--and as I am happy to see you very cheerful, it is notthat--and love. Now after what you told me this morning of your heart, Imay believe"--

"Well, count, " replied Morrel gayly, "I will not dispute it. "

"But you will not make me your confidant, Maximilian?" said the count, in a tone which showed how gladly he would have been admitted to thesecret.

"I showed you this morning that I had a heart, did I not, count?" MonteCristo only answered by extending his hand to the young man. "Well, "continued the latter, "since that heart is no longer with you in theBois de Vincennes, it is elsewhere, and I must go and find it. "

"Go, " said the count deliberately; "go, dear friend, but promise me ifyou meet with any obstacle to remember that I have some power in thisworld, that I am happy to use that power in the behalf of those I love, and that I love you, Morrel. "

"I will remember it, " said the young man, "as selfish children recollecttheir parents when they want their aid. When I need your assistance, andthe moment arrives, I will come to you, count. "

"Well, I rely upon your promise. Good-by, then. "

"Good-by, till we meet again. " They had arrived in the Champs Elysees. Monte Cristo opened the carriage-door, Morrel sprang out on thepavement, Bertuccio was waiting on the steps. Morrel disappeared downthe Avenue de Marigny, and Monte Cristo hastened to join Bertuccio.

"Well?" asked he.

"She is going to leave her house, " said the steward.

"And her son?"

"Florentin, his valet, thinks he is going to do the same. "

"Come this way. " Monte Cristo took Bertuccio into his study, wrote theletter we have seen, and gave it to the steward. "Go, " said he quickly. "But first, let Haidee be informed that I have returned. "

"Here I am, " said the young girl, who at the sound of the carriage hadrun down-stairs and whose face was radiant with joy at seeing the countreturn safely. Bertuccio left. Every transport of a daughter finding afather, all the delight of a mistress seeing an adored lover, were feltby Haidee during the first moments of this meeting, which she had soeagerly expected. Doubtless, although less evident, Monte Cristo's joywas not less intense. Joy to hearts which have suffered long is like thedew on the ground after a long drought; both the heart and the groundabsorb that beneficent moisture falling on them, and nothing isoutwardly apparent.

Monte Cristo was beginning to think, what he had not for a long timedared to believe, that there were two Mercedes in the world, and hemight yet be happy. His eye, elate with happiness, was reading eagerlythe tearful gaze of Haidee, when suddenly the door opened. The countknit his brow. "M. De Morcerf!" said Baptistin, as if that name sufficedfor his excuse. In fact, the count's face brightened.

"Which, " asked he, "the viscount or the count?"

"The count. "

"Oh, " exclaimed Haidee, "is it not yet over?"

"I know not if it is finished, my beloved child, " said Monte Cristo, taking the young girl's hands; "but I do know you have nothing more tofear. "

"But it is the wretched"--

"That man cannot injure me, Haidee, " said Monte Cristo; "it was his sonalone that there was cause to fear. "

"And what I have suffered, " said the young girl, "you shall never know, my lord. " Monte Cristo smiled. "By my father's tomb, " said he, extendinghis hand over the head of the young girl, "I swear to you, Haidee, thatif any misfortune happens, it will not be to me. "

"I believe you, my lord, as implicitly as if God had spoken to me, " saidthe young girl, presenting her forehead to him. Monte Cristo pressed onthat pure beautiful forehead a kiss which made two hearts throb at once, the one violently, the other heavily. "Oh, " murmured the count, "shallI then be permitted to love again? Ask M. De Morcerf into thedrawing-room, " said he to Baptistin, while he led the beautiful Greekgirl to a private staircase.

We must explain this visit, which although expected by Monte Cristo, isunexpected to our readers. While Mercedes, as we have said, was makinga similar inventory of her property to Albert's, while she was arrangingher jewels, shutting her drawers, collecting her keys, to leaveeverything in perfect order, she did not perceive a pale and sinisterface at a glass door which threw light into the passage, from whicheverything could be both seen and heard. He who was thus looking, without being heard or seen, probably heard and saw all that passed inMadame de Morcerf's apartments. From that glass door the pale-facedman went to the count's bedroom and raised with a constricted hand thecurtain of a window overlooking the court-yard. He remained there tenminutes, motionless and dumb, listening to the beating of his own heart. For him those ten minutes were very long. It was then Albert, returningfrom his meeting with the count, perceived his father watching for hisarrival behind a curtain, and turned aside. The count's eye expanded; heknew Albert had insulted the count dreadfully, and that in every countryin the world such an insult would lead to a deadly duel. Albert returnedsafely--then the count was revenged.

An indescribable ray of joy illumined that wretched countenance like thelast ray of the sun before it disappears behind the clouds which bearthe aspect, not of a downy couch, but of a tomb. But as we have said, hewaited in vain for his son to come to his apartment with the account ofhis triumph. He easily understood why his son did not come to see himbefore he went to avenge his father's honor; but when that was done, whydid not his son come and throw himself into his arms?

It was then, when the count could not see Albert, that he sent for hisservant, who he knew was authorized not to conceal anything from him. Ten minutes afterwards, General Morcerf was seen on the steps in a blackcoat with a military collar, black pantaloons, and black gloves. He hadapparently given previous orders, for as he reached the bottom step hiscarriage came from the coach-house ready for him. The valet threw intothe carriage his military cloak, in which two swords were wrapped, and, shutting the door, he took his seat by the side of the coachman. Thecoachman stooped down for his orders.

"To the Champs Elysees, " said the general; "the Count of Monte Cristo's. Hurry!" The horses bounded beneath the whip; and in five minutes theystopped before the count's door. M. De Morcerf opened the door himself, and as the carriage rolled away he passed up the walk, rang, and enteredthe open door with his servant.

A moment afterwards, Baptistin announced the Count of Morcerf to MonteCristo, and the latter, leading Haidee aside, ordered that Morcerf beasked into the drawing-room. The general was pacing the room the thirdtime when, in turning, he perceived Monte Cristo at the door. "Ah, itis M. De Morcerf, " said Monte Cristo quietly; "I thought I had not heardaright. "

"Yes, it is I, " said the count, whom a frightful contraction of the lipsprevented from articulating freely.

"May I know the cause which procures me the pleasure of seeing M. DeMorcerf so early?"

"Had you not a meeting with my son this morning?" asked the general.

"I had, " replied the count.

"And I know my son had good reasons to wish to fight with you, and toendeavor to kill you. "

"Yes, sir, he had very good ones; but you see that in spite of them hehas not killed me, and did not even fight. "

"Yet he considered you the cause of his father's dishonor, the cause ofthe fearful ruin which has fallen on my house. "

"It is true, sir, " said Monte Cristo with his dreadful calmness; "asecondary cause, but not the principal. "

"Doubtless you made, then, some apology or explanation?"

"I explained nothing, and it is he who apologized to me. "

"But to what do you attribute this conduct?"

"To the conviction, probably, that there was one more guilty than I. "

"And who was that?"

"His father. "

"That may be, " said the count, turning pale; "but you know the guilty donot like to find themselves convicted. "

"I know it, and I expected this result. "

"You expected my son would be a coward?" cried the count.

"M. Albert de Morcerf is no coward!" said Monte Cristo.

"A man who holds a sword in his hand, and sees a mortal enemy withinreach of that sword, and does not fight, is a coward! Why is he not herethat I may tell him so?"

"Sir. " replied Monte Cristo coldly, "I did not expect that you had comehere to relate to me your little family affairs. Go and tell M. Albertthat, and he may know what to answer you. "



"Oh, no, no, " said the general, smiling faintly, "I did not come forthat purpose; you are right. I came to tell you that I also look uponyou as my enemy. I came to tell you that I hate you instinctively; thatit seems as if I had always known you, and always hated you; and, inshort, since the young people of the present day will not fight, itremains for us to do so. Do you think so, sir?"

"Certainly. And when I told you I had foreseen the result, it is thehonor of your visit I alluded to. "

"So much the better. Are you prepared?"

"Yes, sir. "

"You know that we shall fight till one of us is dead, " said the general, whose teeth were clinched with rage. "Until one of us dies, " repeatedMonte Cristo, moving his head slightly up and down.

"Let us start, then; we need no witnesses. "

"Very true, " said Monte Cristo; "it is unnecessary, we know each otherso well!"

"On the contrary, " said the count, "we know so little of each other. "

"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo, with the same indomitable coolness; "letus see. Are you not the soldier Fernand who deserted on the eve of thebattle of Waterloo? Are you not the Lieutenant Fernand who served asguide and spy to the French army in Spain? Are you not the CaptainFernand who betrayed, sold, and murdered his benefactor, Ali? And havenot all these Fernands, united, made Lieutenant-General, the Count ofMorcerf, peer of France?"

"Oh, " cried the general, as if branded with a hot iron, "wretch, --toreproach me with my shame when about, perhaps, to kill me! No, I didnot say I was a stranger to you. I know well, demon, that you havepenetrated into the darkness of the past, and that you have read, by thelight of what torch I know not, every page of my life; but perhaps Imay be more honorable in my shame than you under your pompous coverings. No--no, I am aware you know me; but I know you only as an adventurersewn up in gold and jewellery. You call yourself in Paris the Count ofMonte Cristo; in Italy, Sinbad the Sailor; in Malta, I forget what. Butit is your real name I want to know, in the midst of your hundred names, that I may pronounce it when we meet to fight, at the moment when Iplunge my sword through your heart. "

The Count of Monte Cristo turned dreadfully pale; his eye seemed toburn with a devouring fire. He leaped towards a dressing-room near hisbedroom, and in less than a moment, tearing off his cravat, his coatand waistcoat, he put on a sailor's jacket and hat, from beneath whichrolled his long black hair. He returned thus, formidable and implacable, advancing with his arms crossed on his breast, towards the general, who could not understand why he had disappeared, but who on seeing himagain, and feeling his teeth chatter and his legs sink under him, drewback, and only stopped when he found a table to support his clinchedhand. "Fernand, " cried he, "of my hundred names I need only tell youone, to overwhelm you! But you guess it now, do you not?--or, rather, you remember it? For, notwithstanding all my sorrows and my tortures, I show you to-day a face which the happiness of revenge makes youngagain--a face you must often have seen in your dreams since yourmarriage with Mercedes, my betrothed!"

The general, with his head thrown back, hands extended, gaze fixed, looked silently at this dreadful apparition; then seeking the wall tosupport him, he glided along close to it until he reached the door, through which he went out backwards, uttering this single mournful, lamentable, distressing cry, --"Edmond Dantes!" Then, with sighs whichwere unlike any human sound, he dragged himself to the door, reeledacross the court-yard, and falling into the arms of his valet, he saidin a voice scarcely intelligible, --"Home, home. " The fresh air and theshame he felt at having exposed himself before his servants, partlyrecalled his senses, but the ride was short, and as he drew near hishouse all his wretchedness revived. He stopped at a short distance fromthe house and alighted.

The door was wide open, a hackney-coach was standing in the middle ofthe yard--a strange sight before so noble a mansion; the count lookedat it with terror, but without daring to inquire its meaning, he rushedtowards his apartment. Two persons were coming down the stairs; he hadonly time to creep into an alcove to avoid them. It was Mercedes leaningon her son's arm and leaving the house. They passed close by the unhappybeing, who, concealed behind the damask curtain, almost felt Mercedesdress brush past him, and his son's warm breath, pronouncing thesewords, --"Courage, mother! Come, this is no longer our home!" The wordsdied away, the steps were lost in the distance. The general drew himselfup, clinging to the curtain; he uttered the most dreadful sob which everescaped from the bosom of a father abandoned at the same time byhis wife and son. He soon heard the clatter of the iron step of thehackney-coach, then the coachman's voice, and then the rolling of theheavy vehicle shook the windows. He darted to his bedroom to see oncemore all he had loved in the world; but the hackney-coach drove on andthe head of neither Mercedes nor her son appeared at the window to takea last look at the house or the deserted father and husband. And at thevery moment when the wheels of that coach crossed the gateway a reportwas heard, and a thick smoke escaped through one of the panes of thewindow, which was broken by the explosion.

Chapter 93. Valentine.

We may easily conceive where Morrel's appointment was. On leaving MonteCristo he walked slowly towards Villefort's; we say slowly, for Morrelhad more than half an hour to spare to go five hundred steps, but hehad hastened to take leave of Monte Cristo because he wished to be alonewith his thoughts. He knew his time well--the hour when Valentine wasgiving Noirtier his breakfast, and was sure not to be disturbed in theperformance of this pious duty. Noirtier and Valentine had given himleave to go twice a week, and he was now availing himself of thatpermission. He had arrived; Valentine was expecting him. Uneasy andalmost crazed, she seized his hand and led him to her grandfather. Thisuneasiness, amounting almost to frenzy, arose from the report Morcerf'sadventure had made in the world, for the affair at the opera wasgenerally known. No one at Villefort's doubted that a duel would ensuefrom it. Valentine, with her woman's instinct, guessed that Morrel wouldbe Monte Cristo's second, and from the young man's well-known courageand his great affection for the count, she feared that he would notcontent himself with the passive part assigned to him. We may easilyunderstand how eagerly the particulars were asked for, given, andreceived; and Morrel could read an indescribable joy in the eyes of hisbeloved, when she knew that the termination of this affair was as happyas it was unexpected.

"Now, " said Valentine, motioning to Morrel to sit down near hergrandfather, while she took her seat on his footstool, --"now let us talkabout our own affairs. You know, Maximilian, grandpapa once thoughtof leaving this house, and taking an apartment away from M. DeVillefort's. "

"Yes, " said Maximilian, "I recollect the project, of which I highlyapproved. "

"Well, " said Valentine, "you may approve again, for grandpapa is againthinking of it. "

"Bravo, " said Maximilian.

"And do you know, " said Valentine, "what reason grandpapa gives forleaving this house. " Noirtier looked at Valentine to impose silence, but she did not notice him; her looks, her eyes, her smile, were all forMorrel.

"Oh, whatever may be M. Noirtier's reason, " answered Morrel, "I canreadily believe it to be a good one. "

"An excellent one, " said Valentine. "He pretends the air of the FaubourgSt. Honore is not good for me. "

"Indeed?" said Morrel; "in that M. Noirtier may be right; you have notseemed to be well for the last fortnight. "

"Not very, " said Valentine. "And grandpapa has become my physician, andI have the greatest confidence in him, because he knows everything. "

"Do you then really suffer?" asked Morrel quickly.

"Oh, it must not be called suffering; I feel a general uneasiness, thatis all. I have lost my appetite, and my stomach feels as if it werestruggling to get accustomed to something. " Noirtier did not lose aword of what Valentine said. "And what treatment do you adopt for thissingular complaint?"

"A very simple one, " said Valentine. "I swallow every morning a spoonfulof the mixture prepared for my grandfather. When I say one spoonful, I began by one--now I take four. Grandpapa says it is a panacea. "Valentine smiled, but it was evident that she suffered.

Maximilian, in his devotedness, gazed silently at her. She was verybeautiful, but her usual pallor had increased; her eyes were morebrilliant than ever, and her hands, which were generally white likemother-of-pearl, now more resembled wax, to which time was adding ayellowish hue. From Valentine the young man looked towards Noirtier. Thelatter watched with strange and deep interest the young girl, absorbedby her affection, and he also, like Morrel, followed those traces ofinward suffering which was so little perceptible to a common observerthat they escaped the notice of every one but the grandfather and thelover.

"But, " said Morrel, "I thought this mixture, of which you now take fourspoonfuls, was prepared for M. Noirtier?"

"I know it is very bitter, " said Valentine; "so bitter, that all I drinkafterwards appears to have the same taste. " Noirtier looked inquiringlyat his granddaughter. "Yes, grandpapa, " said Valentine; "it is so. Justnow, before I came down to you, I drank a glass of sugared water; I lefthalf, because it seemed so bitter. " Noirtier turned pale, and made asign that he wished to speak. Valentine rose to fetch the dictionary. Noirtier watched her with evident anguish. In fact, the blood wasrushing to the young girl's head already, her cheeks were becomingred. "Oh, " cried she, without losing any of her cheerfulness, "this issingular! I can't see! Did the sun shine in my eyes?" And she leanedagainst the window.

"The sun is not shining, " said Morrel, more alarmed by Noirtier'sexpression than by Valentine's indisposition. He ran towards her. Theyoung girl smiled. "Cheer up, " said she to Noirtier. "Do not be alarmed, Maximilian; it is nothing, and has already passed away. But listen! Do Inot hear a carriage in the court-yard?" She opened Noirtier's door, ranto a window in the passage, and returned hastily. "Yes, " said she, "it is Madame Danglars and her daughter, who have come to call on us. Good-by;--I must run away, for they would send here for me, or, rather, farewell till I see you again. Stay with grandpapa, Maximilian; Ipromise you not to persuade them to stay. "

Morrel watched her as she left the room; he heard her ascend the littlestaircase which led both to Madame de Villefort's apartments and tohers. As soon as she was gone, Noirtier made a sign to Morrel to takethe dictionary. Morrel obeyed; guided by Valentine, he had learned howto understand the old man quickly. Accustomed, however, as he was to thework, he had to repeat most of the letters of the alphabet and to findevery word in the dictionary, so that it was ten minutes before thethought of the old man was translated by these words, "Fetch the glassof water and the decanter from Valentine's room. "

Morrel rang immediately for the servant who had taken Barrois'ssituation, and in Noirtier's name gave that order. The servant soonreturned. The decanter and the glass were completely empty. Noirtiermade a sign that he wished to speak. "Why are the glass and decanterempty?" asked he; "Valentine said she only drank half the glassful. " Thetranslation of this new question occupied another five minutes. "Ido not know, " said the servant, "but the housemaid is in MademoiselleValentine's room: perhaps she has emptied them. "

"Ask her, " said Morrel, translating Noirtier's thought this time byhis look. The servant went out, but returned almost immediately. "Mademoiselle Valentine passed through the room to go to Madame deVillefort's, " said he; "and in passing, as she was thirsty, she drankwhat remained in the glass; as for the decanter, Master Edward hademptied that to make a pond for his ducks. " Noirtier raised his eyes toheaven, as a gambler does who stakes his all on one stroke. From thatmoment the old man's eyes were fixed on the door, and did not quit it.

It was indeed Madame Danglars and her daughter whom Valentine had seen;they had been ushered into Madame de Villefort's room, who had said shewould receive them there. That is why Valentine passed through her room, which was on a level with Valentine's, and only separated from it byEdward's. The two ladies entered the drawing-room with that sort ofofficial stiffness which preludes a formal communication. Among worldlypeople manner is contagious. Madame de Villefort received them withequal solemnity. Valentine entered at this moment, and the formalitieswere resumed. "My dear friend, " said the baroness, while the two youngpeople were shaking hands, "I and Eugenie are come to be the first toannounce to you the approaching marriage of my daughter with PrinceCavalcanti. " Danglars kept up the title of prince. The popular bankerfound that it answered better than count. "Allow me to present youmy sincere congratulations, " replied Madame de Villefort. "PrinceCavalcanti appears to be a young man of rare qualities. "

"Listen, " said the baroness, smiling; "speaking to you as a friend I cansay that the prince does not yet appear all he will be. He has about hima little of that foreign manner by which French persons recognize, atfirst sight, the Italian or German nobleman. Besides, he gives evidenceof great kindness of disposition, much keenness of wit, and as tosuitability, M. Danglars assures me that his fortune is majestic--thatis his word. "

"And then, " said Eugenie, while turning over the leaves of Madame deVillefort's album, "add that you have taken a great fancy to the youngman. "

"And, " said Madame de Villefort, "I need not ask you if you share thatfancy. "

"I?" replied Eugenie with her usual candor. "Oh, not the least in theworld, madame! My wish was not to confine myself to domestic cares, orthe caprices of any man, but to be an artist, and consequently free inheart, in person, and in thought. " Eugenie pronounced these words withso firm a tone that the color mounted to Valentine's cheeks. The timidgirl could not understand that vigorous nature which appeared to havenone of the timidities of woman.

"At any rate, " said she, "since I am to be married whether I will ornot, I ought to be thankful to providence for having released me from myengagement with M. Albert de Morcerf, or I should this day have been thewife of a dishonored man. "

"It is true, " said the baroness, with that strange simplicity sometimesmet with among fashionable ladies, and of which plebeian intercourse cannever entirely deprive them, --"it is very true that had not the Morcerfshesitated, my daughter would have married Monsieur Albert. The generaldepended much on it; he even came to force M. Danglars. We have had anarrow escape. "

"But, " said Valentine, timidly, "does all the father's shame revert uponthe son? Monsieur Albert appears to me quite innocent of the treasoncharged against the general. "

"Excuse me, " said the implacable young girl, "Monsieur Albert claims andwell deserves his share. It appears that after having challenged M. De Monte Cristo at the Opera yesterday, he apologized on the groundto-day. "

"Impossible, " said Madame de Villefort.

"Ah, my dear friend, " said Madame Danglars, with the same simplicitywe before noticed, "it is a fact. I heard it from M. Debray, who waspresent at the explanation. " Valentine also knew the truth, but she didnot answer. A single word had reminded her that Morrel was expectingher in M. Noirtier's room. Deeply engaged with a sort of inwardcontemplation, Valentine had ceased for a moment to join in theconversation. She would, indeed, have found it impossible to repeat whathad been said the last few minutes, when suddenly Madame Danglars' hand, pressed on her arm, aroused her from her lethargy.

"What is it?" said she, starting at Madame Danglars' touch as she wouldhave done from an electric shock. "It is, my dear Valentine, " said thebaroness, "that you are, doubtless, suffering. "

"I?" said the young girl, passing her hand across her burning forehead.

"Yes, look at yourself in that glass; you have turned pale and then redsuccessively, three or four times in one minute. "

"Indeed, " cried Eugenie, "you are very pale!"

"Oh, do not be alarmed; I have been so for many days. " Artless as shewas, the young girl knew that this was an opportunity to leave, and besides, Madame de Villefort came to her assistance. "Retire, Valentine, " said she; "you are really suffering, and these ladies willexcuse you; drink a glass of pure water, it will restore you. " Valentinekissed Eugenie, bowed to Madame Danglars, who had already risen to takeher leave, and went out. "That poor child, " said Madame de Villefortwhen Valentine was gone, "she makes me very uneasy, and I should not beastonished if she had some serious illness. "

Meanwhile, Valentine, in a sort of excitement which she could not quiteunderstand, had crossed Edward's room without noticing some trick ofthe child, and through her own had reached the little staircase. She waswithin three steps of the bottom; she already heard Morrel's voice, whensuddenly a cloud passed over her eyes, her stiffened foot missed thestep, her hands had no power to hold the baluster, and falling againstthe wall she lost her balance wholly and toppled to the floor. Morrelbounded to the door, opened it, and found Valentine stretched out at thebottom of the stairs. Quick as a flash, he raised her in his arms andplaced her in a chair. Valentine opened her eyes.

"Oh, what a clumsy thing I am, " said she with feverish volubility;"I don't know my way. I forgot there were three more steps before thelanding. "

"You have hurt yourself, perhaps, " said Morrel. "What can I do for you, Valentine?" Valentine looked around her; she saw the deepest terrordepicted in Noirtier's eyes. "Don't worry, dear grandpapa, " said she, endeavoring to smile; "it is nothing--it is nothing; I was giddy, thatis all. "

"Another attack of giddiness, " said Morrel, clasping his hands. "Oh, attend to it, Valentine, I entreat you. "

"But no, " said Valentine, --"no, I tell you it is all past, and it wasnothing. Now, let me tell you some news; Eugenie is to be married ina week, and in three days there is to be a grand feast, a betrothalfestival. We are all invited, my father, Madame de Villefort, and I--atleast, I understood it so. "

"When will it be our turn to think of these things? Oh, Valentine, you who have so much influence over your grandpapa, try to make himanswer--Soon. "

"And do you, " said Valentine, "depend on me to stimulate the tardinessand arouse the memory of grandpapa?"

"Yes, " cried Morrel, "make haste. So long as you are not mine, Valentine, I shall always think I may lose you. "

"Oh, " replied Valentine with a convulsive movement, "oh, indeed, Maximilian, you are too timid for an officer, for a soldier who, they say, never knows fear. Ah, ha, ha!" she burst into a forced andmelancholy laugh, her arms stiffened and twisted, her head fell backon her chair, and she remained motionless. The cry of terror whichwas stopped on Noirtier's lips, seemed to start from his eyes. Morrelunderstood it; he knew he must call assistance. The young man rang thebell violently; the housemaid who had been in Mademoiselle Valentine'sroom, and the servant who had replaced Barrois, ran in at the samemoment. Valentine was so pale, so cold, so inanimate that withoutlistening to what was said to them they were seized with the fear whichpervaded that house, and they flew into the passage crying for help. Madame Danglars and Eugenie were going out at that moment; they heardthe cause of the disturbance. "I told you so!" exclaimed Madame deVillefort. "Poor child!"

Chapter 94. Maximilian's Avowal.

At the same moment M. De Villefort's voice was heard calling from hisstudy, "What is the matter?" Morrel looked at Noirtier who had recoveredhis self-command, and with a glance indicated the closet where oncebefore under somewhat similar circumstances, he had taken refuge. He hadonly time to get his hat and throw himself breathless into the closetwhen the procureur's footstep was heard in the passage. Villefort spranginto the room, ran to Valentine, and took her in his arms. "A physician, a physician, --M. D'Avrigny!" cried Villefort; "or rather I will go forhim myself. " He flew from the apartment, and Morrel at the same momentdarted out at the other door. He had been struck to the heart by afrightful recollection--the conversation he had heard between the doctorand Villefort the night of Madame de Saint-Meran's death, recurred tohim; these symptoms, to a less alarming extent, were the same which hadpreceded the death of Barrois. At the same time Monte Cristo's voiceseemed to resound in his ear with the words he had heard only two hoursbefore, "Whatever you want, Morrel, come to me; I have great power. "More rapidly than thought, he darted down the Rue Matignon, and thenceto the Avenue des Champs Elysees.

Meanwhile M. De Villefort arrived in a hired cabriolet at M. D'Avrigny'sdoor. He rang so violently that the porter was alarmed. Villefort ranup-stairs without saying a word. The porter knew him, and let him pass, only calling to him, "In his study, Monsieur Procureur--in his study!"Villefort pushed, or rather forced, the door open. "Ah, " said thedoctor, "is it you?"

"Yes, " said Villefort, closing the door after him, "it is I, who amcome in my turn to ask you if we are quite alone. Doctor, my house isaccursed!"

"What?" said the latter with apparent coolness, but with deep emotion, "have you another invalid?"

"Yes, doctor, " cried Villefort, clutching his hair, "yes!"

D'Avrigny's look implied, "I told you it would be so. " Then he slowlyuttered these words, "Who is now dying in your house? What new victim isgoing to accuse you of weakness before God?" A mournful sob burstfrom Villefort's heart; he approached the doctor, and seizing hisarm, --"Valentine, " said he, "it is Valentine's turn!"

"Your daughter?" cried d'Avrigny with grief and surprise.

"You see you were deceived, " murmured the magistrate; "come and see her, and on her bed of agony entreat her pardon for having suspected her. "

"Each time you have applied to me, " said the doctor, "it has been toolate; still I will go. But let us make haste, sir; with the enemies youhave to do with there is no time to be lost. "

"Oh, this time, doctor, you shall not have to reproach me with weakness. This time I will know the assassin, and will pursue him. "

"Let us try first to save the victim before we think of revenging her, "said d'Avrigny. "Come. " The same cabriolet which had brought Villeforttook them back at full speed, and at this moment Morrel rapped at MonteCristo's door. The count was in his study and was reading with an angrylook something which Bertuccio had brought in haste. Hearing the nameof Morrel, who had left him only two hours before, the count raised hishead, arose, and sprang to meet him. "What is the matter, Maximilian?"asked he; "you are pale, and the perspiration rolls from your forehead. "Morrel fell into a chair. "Yes, " said he, "I came quickly; I wanted tospeak to you. "

"Are all your family well?" asked the count, with an affectionatebenevolence, whose sincerity no one could for a moment doubt.

"Thank you, count--thank you, " said the young man, evidently embarrassedhow to begin the conversation; "yes, every one in my family is well. "

"So much the better; yet you have something to tell me?" replied thecount with increased anxiety.

"Yes, " said Morrel, "it is true; I have but now left a house where deathhas just entered, to run to you. "

"Are you then come from M. De Morcerf's?" asked Monte Cristo.

"No, " said Morrel; "is some one dead in his house?"

"The general has just blown his brains out, " replied Monte Cristo withgreat coolness.

"Oh, what a dreadful event!" cried Maximilian.

"Not for the countess, or for Albert, " said Monte Cristo; "a dead fatheror husband is better than a dishonored one, --blood washes out shame. "

"Poor countess, " said Maximilian, "I pity her very much; she is so noblea woman!"

"Pity Albert also, Maximilian; for believe me he is the worthy sonof the countess. But let us return to yourself. You have hastened tome--can I have the happiness of being useful to you?"

"Yes, I need your help: that is I thought like a madman that you couldlend me your assistance in a case where God alone can succor me. "

"Tell me what it is, " replied Monte Cristo.

"Oh, " said Morrel, "I know not, indeed, if I may reveal this secretto mortal ears, but fatality impels me, necessity constrains me, count"--Morrel hesitated. "Do you think I love you?" said Monte Cristo, taking the young man's hand affectionately in his.

"Oh, you encourage me, and something tells me there, " placing his handon his heart, "that I ought to have no secret from you. "

"You are right, Morrel; God is speaking to your heart, and your heartspeaks to you. Tell me what it says. "

"Count, will you allow me to send Baptistin to inquire after some oneyou know?"

"I am at your service, and still more my servants. "

"Oh, I cannot live if she is not better. "

"Shall I ring for Baptistin?"

"No, I will go and speak to him myself. " Morrel went out, calledBaptistin, and whispered a few words to him. The valet ran directly. "Well, have you sent?" asked Monte Cristo, seeing Morrel return.

"Yes, and now I shall be more calm. "

"You know I am waiting, " said Monte Cristo, smiling.

"Yes, and I will tell you. One evening I was in a garden; a clump oftrees concealed me; no one suspected I was there. Two persons passednear me--allow me to conceal their names for the present; they werespeaking in an undertone, and yet I was so interested in what they saidthat I did not lose a single word. "

"This is a gloomy introduction, if I may judge from your pallor andshuddering, Morrel. "

"Oh, yes, very gloomy, my friend. Some one had just died in the houseto which that garden belonged. One of the persons whose conversationI overheard was the master of the house; the other, the physician. Theformer was confiding to the latter his grief and fear, for it was thesecond time within a month that death had suddenly and unexpectedlyentered that house which was apparently destined to destruction by someexterminating angel, as an object of God's anger. "

"Ah, indeed?" said Monte Cristo, looking earnestly at the young man, andby an imperceptible movement turning his chair, so that he remainedin the shade while the light fell full on Maximilian's face. "Yes, "continued Morrel, "death had entered that house twice within one month. "

"And what did the doctor answer?" asked Monte Cristo.

"He replied--he replied, that the death was not a natural one, and mustbe attributed"--

"To what?"

"To poison. "

"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo with a slight cough which in moments ofextreme emotion helped him to disguise a blush, or his pallor, or theintense interest with which he listened; "indeed, Maximilian, did youhear that?"

"Yes, my dear count, I heard it; and the doctor added that if anotherdeath occurred in a similar way he must appeal to justice. " Monte Cristolistened, or appeared to do so, with the greatest calmness. "Well, "said Maximilian, "death came a third time, and neither the master ofthe house nor the doctor said a word. Death is now, perhaps, striking afourth blow. Count, what am I bound to do, being in possession of thissecret?"

"My dear friend, " said Monte Cristo, "you appear to be relating anadventure which we all know by heart. I know the house where you heardit, or one very similar to it; a house with a garden, a master, aphysician, and where there have been three unexpected and sudden deaths. Well, I have not intercepted your confidence, and yet I know all thatas well as you, and I have no conscientious scruples. No, it does notconcern me. You say an exterminating angel appears to have devoted thathouse to God's anger--well, who says your supposition is not reality?Do not notice things which those whose interest it is to see them passover. If it is God's justice, instead of his anger, which is walkingthrough that house, Maximilian, turn away your face and let his justiceaccomplish its purpose. " Morrel shuddered. There was something mournful, solemn, and terrible in the count's manner. "Besides, " continued he, inso changed a tone that no one would have supposed it was the same personspeaking--"besides, who says that it will begin again?"

"It has returned, count, " exclaimed Morrel; "that is why I hastened toyou. "

"Well, what do you wish me to do? Do you wish me, for instance, to giveinformation to the procureur?" Monte Cristo uttered the last words withso much meaning that Morrel, starting up, cried out, "You know of whom Ispeak, count, do you not?"

"Perfectly well, my good friend; and I will prove it to you by puttingthe dots to the 'i, ' or rather by naming the persons. You were walkingone evening in M. De Villefort's garden; from what you relate, I supposeit to have been the evening of Madame de Saint-Meran's death. Youheard M. De Villefort talking to M. D'Avrigny about the death of M. DeSaint-Meran, and that no less surprising, of the countess. M. D'Avrignysaid he believed they both proceeded from poison; and you, honest man, have ever since been asking your heart and sounding your conscience toknow if you ought to expose or conceal this secret. Why do you tormentthem? 'Conscience, what hast thou to do with me?' as Sterne said. Mydear fellow, let them sleep on, if they are asleep; let them grow palein their drowsiness, if they are disposed to do so, and pray do youremain in peace, who have no remorse to disturb you. " Deep grief wasdepicted on Morrel's features; he seized Monte Cristo's hand. "But it isbeginning again, I say!"

"Well, " said the Count, astonished at his perseverance, which he couldnot understand, and looking still more earnestly at Maximilian, "let itbegin again, --it is like the house of the Atreidae; [*] God has condemnedthem, and they must submit to their punishment. They will all disappear, like the fabrics children build with cards, and which fall, one by one, under the breath of their builder, even if there are two hundred ofthem. Three months since it was M. De Saint-Meran; Madame de Saint-Merantwo months since; the other day it was Barrois; to-day, the oldNoirtier, or young Valentine. "

* In the old Greek legend the Atreidae, or children of Atreus, were doomed to punishment because of the abominable crime of their father. The Agamemnon of Aeschylus is based on this legend.

"You knew it?" cried Morrel, in such a paroxysm of terror that MonteCristo started, --he whom the falling heavens would have found unmoved;"you knew it, and said nothing?"

"And what is it to me?" replied Monte Cristo, shrugging his shoulders;"do I know those people? and must I lose the one to save the other?Faith, no, for between the culprit and the victim I have no choice. "

"But I, " cried Morrel, groaning with sorrow, "I love her!"

"You love?--whom?" cried Monte Cristo, starting to his feet, and seizingthe two hands which Morrel was raising towards heaven.

"I love most fondly--I love madly--I love as a man who would give hislife-blood to spare her a tear--I love Valentine de Villefort, who isbeing murdered at this moment! Do you understand me? I love her; and Iask God and you how I can save her?" Monte Cristo uttered a cry whichthose only can conceive who have heard the roar of a wounded lion. "Unhappy man, " cried he, wringing his hands in his turn; "you loveValentine, --that daughter of an accursed race!" Never had Morrelwitnessed such an expression--never had so terrible an eye flashedbefore his face--never had the genius of terror he had so often seen, either on the battle-field or in the murderous nights of Algeria, shakenaround him more dreadful fire. He drew back terrified.

As for Monte Cristo, after this ebullition he closed his eyes asif dazzled by internal light. In a moment he restrained himself sopowerfully that the tempestuous heaving of his breast subsided, asturbulent and foaming waves yield to the sun's genial influence when thecloud has passed. This silence, self-control, and struggle lasted abouttwenty seconds, then the count raised his pallid face. "See, " said he, "my dear friend, how God punishes the most thoughtless and unfeeling menfor their indifference, by presenting dreadful scenes to their view. I, who was looking on, an eager and curious spectator, --I, who was watchingthe working of this mournful tragedy, --I, who like a wicked angel waslaughing at the evil men committed protected by secrecy (a secret iseasily kept by the rich and powerful), I am in my turn bitten by theserpent whose tortuous course I was watching, and bitten to the heart!"

Morrel groaned. "Come, come, " continued the count, "complaints areunavailing, be a man, be strong, be full of hope, for I am here and willwatch over you. " Morrel shook his head sorrowfully. "I tell you tohope. Do you understand me?" cried Monte Cristo. "Remember that Inever uttered a falsehood and am never deceived. It is twelve o'clock, Maximilian; thank heaven that you came at noon rather than in theevening, or to-morrow morning. Listen, Morrel--it is noon; if Valentineis not now dead, she will not die. "

"How so?" cried Morrel, "when I left her dying?" Monte Cristo pressedhis hands to his forehead. What was passing in that brain, so loadedwith dreadful secrets? What does the angel of light or the angel ofdarkness say to that mind, at once implacable and generous? God onlyknows.

Monte Cristo raised his head once more, and this time he was calm asa child awaking from its sleep. "Maximilian, " said he, "return home. Icommand you not to stir--attempt nothing, not to let your countenancebetray a thought, and I will send you tidings. Go. "

"Oh, count, you overwhelm me with that coolness. Have you, then, poweragainst death? Are you superhuman? Are you an angel?" And the youngman, who had never shrunk from danger, shrank before Monte Cristo withindescribable terror. But Monte Cristo looked at him with so melancholyand sweet a smile, that Maximilian felt the tears filling his eyes. "I can do much for you, my friend, " replied the count. "Go; I must bealone. " Morrel, subdued by the extraordinary ascendancy Monte Cristoexercised over everything around him, did not endeavor to resist it. Hepressed the count's hand and left. He stopped one moment at the door forBaptistin, whom he saw in the Rue Matignon, and who was running.

Meanwhile, Villefort and d'Avrigny had made all possible haste, Valentine had not revived from her fainting fit on their arrival, andthe doctor examined the invalid with all the care the circumstancesdemanded, and with an interest which the knowledge of the secretintensified twofold. Villefort, closely watching his countenance and hislips, awaited the result of the examination. Noirtier, paler than eventhe young girl, more eager than Villefort for the decision, was watchingalso intently and affectionately. At last d'Avrigny slowly uttered thesewords:--"she is still alive!"



"Still?" cried Villefort; "oh, doctor, what a dreadful word is that. "

"Yes, " said the physician, "I repeat it; she is still alive, and I amastonished at it. "

"But is she safe?" asked the father.

"Yes, since she lives. " At that moment d'Avrigny's glance met Noirtier'seye. It glistened with such extraordinary joy, so rich and full ofthought, that the physician was struck. He placed the young girl againon the chair, --her lips were scarcely discernible, they were so pale andwhite, as well as her whole face, --and remained motionless, looking atNoirtier, who appeared to anticipate and commend all he did. "Sir, "said d'Avrigny to Villefort, "call Mademoiselle Valentine's maid, if youplease. " Villefort went himself to find her; and d'Avrigny approachedNoirtier. "Have you something to tell me?" asked he. The old manwinked his eyes expressively, which we may remember was his only way ofexpressing his approval.

"Privately?"

"Yes. "

"Well, I will remain with you. " At this moment Villefort returned, followed by the lady's maid; and after her came Madame de Villefort.

"What is the matter, then, with this dear child? she has just left me, and she complained of being indisposed, but I did not think seriously ofit. " The young woman with tears in her eyes and every mark of affectionof a true mother, approached Valentine and took her hand. D'Avrignycontinued to look at Noirtier; he saw the eyes of the old man dilate andbecome round, his cheeks turn pale and tremble; the perspiration stoodin drops upon his forehead. "Ah, " said he, involuntarily followingNoirtier's eyes, which were fixed on Madame de Villefort, whorepeated, --"This poor child would be better in bed. Come, Fanny, wewill put her to bed. " M. D'Avrigny, who saw that would be a means ofhis remaining alone with Noirtier, expressed his opinion that it was thebest thing that could be done; but he forbade that anything should begiven to her except what he ordered.

They carried Valentine away; she had revived, but could scarcely moveor speak, so shaken was her frame by the attack. She had, however, justpower to give one parting look to her grandfather, who in losing herseemed to be resigning his very soul. D'Avrigny followed the invalid, wrote a prescription, ordered Villefort to take a cabriolet, go inperson to a chemist's to get the prescribed medicine, bring it himself, and wait for him in his daughter's room. Then, having renewed hisinjunction not to give Valentine anything, he went down again toNoirtier, shut the doors carefully, and after convincing himself thatno one was listening, --"Do you, " said he, "know anything of this younglady's illness?"

"Yes, " said the old man.

"We have no time to lose; I will question, and do you answer me. "Noirtier made a sign that he was ready to answer. "Did you anticipatethe accident which has happened to your granddaughter?"

"Yes. " D'Avrigny reflected a moment; then approaching Noirtier, --"Pardonwhat I am going to say, " added he, "but no indication should beneglected in this terrible situation. Did you see poor Barrois die?"Noirtier raised his eyes to heaven. "Do you know of what he died!" askedd'Avrigny, placing his hand on Noirtier's shoulder.

"Yes, " replied the old man.

"Do you think he died a natural death?" A sort of smile was discernibleon the motionless lips of Noirtier.

"Then you have thought that Barrois was poisoned?"

"Yes. "

"Do you think the poison he fell a victim to was intended for him?"

"No. "

"Do you think the same hand which unintentionally struck Barrois has nowattacked Valentine?"

"Yes. "

"Then will she die too?" asked d'Avrigny, fixing his penetrating gaze onNoirtier. He watched the effect of this question on the old man. "No, "replied he with an air of triumph which would have puzzled the mostclever diviner. "Then you hope?" said d'Avrigny, with surprise.

"Yes. "

"What do you hope?" The old man made him understand with his eyes thathe could not answer. "Ah, yes, it is true, " murmured d'Avrigny. Then, turning to Noirtier, --"Do you hope the assassin will be tried?"

"No. "

"Then you hope the poison will take no effect on Valentine?"

"Yes. "

"It is no news to you, " added d'Avrigny, "to tell you that anattempt has been made to poison her?" The old man made a sign that heentertained no doubt upon the subject. "Then how do you hope Valentinewill escape?" Noirtier kept his eyes steadfastly fixed on the samespot. D'Avrigny followed the direction and saw that they were fixed on abottle containing the mixture which he took every morning. "Ah, indeed?"said d'Avrigny, struck with a sudden thought, "has it occurred toyou"--Noirtier did not let him finish. "Yes, " said he. "To prepare hersystem to resist poison?"

"Yes. "

"By accustoming her by degrees"--

"Yes, yes, yes, " said Noirtier, delighted to be understood.

"Of course. I had told you that there was brucine in the mixture I giveyou. "

"Yes. "

"And by accustoming her to that poison, you have endeavored toneutralize the effect of a similar poison?" Noirtier's joy continued. "And you have succeeded, " exclaimed d'Avrigny. "Without that precautionValentine would have died before assistance could have been procured. The dose has been excessive, but she has only been shaken by it; andthis time, at any rate, Valentine will not die. " A superhuman joyexpanded the old man's eyes, which were raised towards heaven with anexpression of infinite gratitude. At this moment Villefort returned. "Here, doctor, " said he, "is what you sent me for. "

"Was this prepared in your presence?"

"Yes, " replied the procureur.

"Have you not let it go out of your hands?"

"No. " D'Avrigny took the bottle, poured some drops of the mixture itcontained in the hollow of his hand, and swallowed them. "Well, " saidhe, "let us go to Valentine; I will give instructions to every one, andyou, M. De Villefort, will yourself see that no one deviates from them. "

At the moment when d'Avrigny was returning to Valentine's room, accompanied by Villefort, an Italian priest, of serious demeanor andcalm and firm tone, hired for his use the house adjoining the hotel ofM. De Villefort. No one knew how the three former tenants of that houseleft it. About two hours afterwards its foundation was reported to beunsafe; but the report did not prevent the new occupant establishinghimself there with his modest furniture the same day at five o'clock. The lease was drawn up for three, six, or nine years by the new tenant, who, according to the rule of the proprietor, paid six months inadvance. This new tenant, who, as we have said, was an Italian, wascalled Il Signor Giacomo Busoni. Workmen were immediately called in, and that same night the passengers at the end of the faubourg saw withsurprise that carpenters and masons were occupied in repairing the lowerpart of the tottering house.

Chapter 95. Father and Daughter.

We saw in a preceding chapter how Madame Danglars went formally toannounce to Madame de Villefort the approaching marriage of EugenieDanglars and M. Andrea Cavalcanti. This announcement, which implied orappeared to imply, the approval of all the persons concerned in thismomentous affair, had been preceded by a scene to which our readers mustbe admitted. We beg them to take one step backward, and to transportthemselves, the morning of that day of great catastrophes, into theshowy, gilded salon we have before shown them, and which was the prideof its owner, Baron Danglars. In this room, at about ten o'clock in themorning, the banker himself had been walking to and fro for someminutes thoughtfully and in evident uneasiness, watching both doors, andlistening to every sound. When his patience was exhausted, he called hisvalet. "Etienne, " said he, "see why Mademoiselle Eugenie has asked me tomeet her in the drawing-room, and why she makes me wait so long. "

Having given this vent to his ill-humor, the baron became more calm;Mademoiselle Danglars had that morning requested an interview withher father, and had fixed on the gilded drawing-room as the spot. Thesingularity of this step, and above all its formality, had not alittle surprised the banker, who had immediately obeyed his daughterby repairing first to the drawing-room. Etienne soon returned from hiserrand. "Mademoiselle's lady's maid says, sir, that mademoiselle isfinishing her toilette, and will be here shortly. "

Danglars nodded, to signify that he was satisfied. To the world and tohis servants Danglars assumed the character of the good-natured man andthe indulgent father. This was one of his parts in the popular comedy hewas performing, --a make-up he had adopted and which suited him about aswell as the masks worn on the classic stage by paternal actors, who seenfrom one side, were the image of geniality, and from the other showedlips drawn down in chronic ill-temper. Let us hasten to say that inprivate the genial side descended to the level of the other, so thatgenerally the indulgent man disappeared to give place to the brutalhusband and domineering father. "Why the devil does that foolish girl, who pretends to wish to speak to me, not come into my study? and why onearth does she want to speak to me at all?"

He was turning this thought over in his brain for the twentieth time, when the door opened and Eugenie appeared, attired in a figured blacksatin dress, her hair dressed and gloves on, as if she were going to theItalian Opera. "Well, Eugenie, what is it you want with me? and why inthis solemn drawing-room when the study is so comfortable?"

"I quite understand why you ask, sir, " said Eugenie, making a sign thather father might be seated, "and in fact your two questions suggestfully the theme of our conversation. I will answer them both, andcontrary to the usual method, the last first, because it is the leastdifficult. I have chosen the drawing-room, sir, as our place of meeting, in order to avoid the disagreeable impressions and influences of abanker's study. Those gilded cashbooks, drawers locked like gates offortresses, heaps of bank-bills, come from I know not where, and thequantities of letters from England, Holland, Spain, India, China, andPeru, have generally a strange influence on a father's mind, and makehim forget that there is in the world an interest greater and moresacred than the good opinion of his correspondents. I have, therefore, chosen this drawing-room, where you see, smiling and happy in theirmagnificent frames, your portrait, mine, my mother's, and all sortsof rural landscapes and touching pastorals. I rely much on externalimpressions; perhaps, with regard to you, they are immaterial, but Ishould be no artist if I had not some fancies. "

"Very well, " replied M. Danglars, who had listened to all this preamblewith imperturbable coolness, but without understanding a word, sincelike every man burdened with thoughts of the past, he was occupied withseeking the thread of his own ideas in those of the speaker.

"There is, then, the second point cleared up, or nearly so, " saidEugenie, without the least confusion, and with that masculinepointedness which distinguished her gesture and her language; "and youappear satisfied with the explanation. Now, let us return to the first. You ask me why I have requested this interview; I will tell you in twowords, sir; I will not marry count Andrea Cavalcanti. "

Danglars leaped from his chair and raised his eyes and arms towardsheaven.

"Yes, indeed, sir, " continued Eugenie, still quite calm; "you areastonished, I see; for since this little affair began, I have notmanifested the slightest opposition, and yet I am always sure, when theopportunity arrives, to oppose a determined and absolute will to peoplewho have not consulted me, and things which displease me. However, thistime, my tranquillity, or passiveness as philosophers say, proceededfrom another source; it proceeded from a wish, like a submissive anddevoted daughter" (a slight smile was observable on the purple lips ofthe young girl), "to practice obedience. "

"Well?" asked Danglars.

"Well, sir, " replied Eugenie, "I have tried to the very last and nowthat the moment has come, I feel in spite of all my efforts that it isimpossible. "

"But, " said Danglars, whose weak mind was at first quite overwhelmedwith the weight of this pitiless logic, marking evident premeditationand force of will, "what is your reason for this refusal, Eugenie? whatreason do you assign?"

"My reason?" replied the young girl. "Well, it is not that the man ismore ugly, more foolish, or more disagreeable than any other; no, M. Andrea Cavalcanti may appear to those who look at men's faces andfigures as a very good specimen of his kind. It is not, either, thatmy heart is less touched by him than any other; that would be aschoolgirl's reason, which I consider quite beneath me. I actually loveno one, sir; you know it, do you not? I do not then see why, withoutreal necessity, I should encumber my life with a perpetual companion. Has not some sage said, 'Nothing too much'? and another, 'I carry all myeffects with me'? I have been taught these two aphorisms in Latin and inGreek; one is, I believe, from Phaedrus, and the other from Bias. Well, my dear father, in the shipwreck of life--for life is an eternalshipwreck of our hopes--I cast into the sea my useless encumbrance, thatis all, and I remain with my own will, disposed to live perfectly alone, and consequently perfectly free. "

"Unhappy girl, unhappy girl!" murmured Danglars, turning pale, forhe knew from long experience the solidity of the obstacle he had sosuddenly encountered.

"Unhappy girl, " replied Eugenie, "unhappy girl, do you say, sir? No, indeed; the exclamation appears quite theatrical and affected. Happy, onthe contrary, for what am I in want of! The world calls me beautiful. It is something to be well received. I like a favorable reception; itexpands the countenance, and those around me do not then appear so ugly. I possess a share of wit, and a certain relative sensibility, whichenables me to draw from life in general, for the support of mine, all Imeet with that is good, like the monkey who cracks the nut to get at itscontents. I am rich, for you have one of the first fortunes in France. Iam your only daughter, and you are not so exacting as the fathers of thePorte Saint-Martin and Gaiete, who disinherit their daughters for notgiving them grandchildren. Besides, the provident law has deprived youof the power to disinherit me, at least entirely, as it has also ofthe power to compel me to marry Monsieur This or Monsieur That. Andso--being, beautiful, witty, somewhat talented, as the comic operas say, and rich--and that is happiness, sir--why do you call me unhappy?"

Danglars, seeing his daughter smiling, and proud even to insolence, could not entirely repress his brutal feelings, but they betrayedthemselves only by an exclamation. Under the fixed and inquiring gazelevelled at him from under those beautiful black eyebrows, he prudentlyturned away, and calmed himself immediately, daunted by the power of aresolute mind. "Truly, my daughter, " replied he with a smile, "you areall you boast of being, excepting one thing; I will not too hastily tellyou which, but would rather leave you to guess it. " Eugenie looked atDanglars, much surprised that one flower of her crown of pride, withwhich she had so superbly decked herself, should be disputed. "Mydaughter, " continued the banker, "you have perfectly explained to me thesentiments which influence a girl like you, who is determined she willnot marry; now it remains for me to tell you the motives of a fatherlike me, who has decided that his daughter shall marry. " Eugeniebowed, not as a submissive daughter, but as an adversary prepared for adiscussion.

"My daughter, " continued Danglars, "when a father asks his daughter tochoose a husband, he has always some reason for wishing her to marry. Some are affected with the mania of which you spoke just now, that ofliving again in their grandchildren. This is not my weakness, I tell youat once; family joys have no charm for me. I may acknowledge this toa daughter whom I know to be philosophical enough to understand myindifference, and not to impute it to me as a crime. "

"This is not to the purpose, " said Eugenie; "let us speak candidly, sir;I admire candor. "

"Oh, " said Danglars, "I can, when circumstances render it desirable, adopt your system, although it may not be my general practice. I willtherefore proceed. I have proposed to you to marry, not for your sake, for indeed I did not think of you in the least at the moment (you admirecandor, and will now be satisfied, I hope); but because it suited meto marry you as soon as possible, on account of certain commercialspeculations I am desirous of entering into. " Eugenie became uneasy.

"It is just as I tell you, I assure you, and you must not be angry withme, for you have sought this disclosure. I do not willingly enter intoarithmetical explanations with an artist like you, who fears to enter mystudy lest she should imbibe disagreeable or anti-poetic impressions andsensations. But in that same banker's study, where you very willinglypresented yourself yesterday to ask for the thousand francs I give youmonthly for pocket-money, you must know, my dear young lady, that manythings may be learned, useful even to a girl who will not marry. There one may learn, for instance, what, out of regard to your nervoussusceptibility, I will inform you of in the drawing-room, namely, thatthe credit of a banker is his physical and moral life; that creditsustains him as breath animates the body; and M. De Monte Cristo oncegave me a lecture on that subject, which I have never forgotten. Therewe may learn that as credit sinks, the body becomes a corpse, and thisis what must happen very soon to the banker who is proud to own so gooda logician as you for his daughter. " But Eugenie, instead of stooping, drew herself up under the blow. "Ruined?" said she.

"Exactly, my daughter; that is precisely what I mean, " said Danglars, almost digging his nails into his breast, while he preserved onhis harsh features the smile of the heartless though clever man;"ruined--yes, that is it. "

"Ah!" said Eugenie.

"Yes, ruined! Now it is revealed, this secret so full of horror, asthe tragic poet says. Now, my daughter, learn from my lips how you mayalleviate this misfortune, so far as it will affect you. "

"Oh, " cried Eugenie, "you are a bad physiognomist, if you imagineI deplore on my own account the catastrophe of which you warn me. Iruined? and what will that signify to me? Have I not my talent left? CanI not, like Pasta, Malibran, Grisi, acquire for myself what you wouldnever have given me, whatever might have been your fortune, a hundredor a hundred and fifty thousand livres per annum, for which I shall beindebted to no one but myself; and which, instead of being given asyou gave me those poor twelve thousand francs, with sour looks andreproaches for my prodigality, will be accompanied with acclamations, with bravos, and with flowers? And if I do not possess that talent, which your smiles prove to me you doubt, should I not still have thatardent love of independence, which will be a substitute for wealth, andwhich in my mind supersedes even the instinct of self-preservation?No, I grieve not on my own account, I shall always find a resource; mybooks, my pencils, my piano, all the things which cost but little, andwhich I shall be able to procure, will remain my own.

"Do you think that I sorrow for Madame Danglars? Undeceive yourselfagain; either I am greatly mistaken, or she has provided against thecatastrophe which threatens you, and, which will pass over withoutaffecting her. She has taken care for herself, --at least I hope so, --forher attention has not been diverted from her projects by watching overme. She has fostered my independence by professedly indulging my lovefor liberty. Oh, no, sir; from my childhood I have seen too much, andunderstood too much, of what has passed around me, for misfortune tohave an undue power over me. From my earliest recollections, I have beenbeloved by no one--so much the worse; that has naturally led me to loveno one--so much the better--now you have my profession of faith. "

"Then, " said Danglars, pale with anger, which was not at all due tooffended paternal love, --"then, mademoiselle, you persist in yourdetermination to accelerate my ruin?"

"Your ruin? I accelerate your ruin? What do you mean? I do notunderstand you. "

"So much the better, I have a ray of hope left; listen. "

"I am all attention, " said Eugenie, looking so earnestly at her fatherthat it was an effort for the latter to endure her unrelenting gaze.

"M. Cavalcanti, " continued Danglars, "is about to marry you, and willplace in my hands his fortune, amounting to three million livres. "

"That is admirable!" said Eugenie with sovereign contempt, smoothing hergloves out one upon the other.

"You think I shall deprive you of those three millions, " said Danglars;"but do not fear it. They are destined to produce at least ten. I and abrother banker have obtained a grant of a railway, the only industrialenterprise which in these days promises to make good the fabulousprospects that Law once held out to the eternally deluded Parisians, inthe fantastic Mississippi scheme. As I look at it, a millionth part of arailway is worth fully as much as an acre of waste land on the banksof the Ohio. We make in our case a deposit, on a mortgage, which is anadvance, as you see, since we gain at least ten, fifteen, twenty, or ahundred livres' worth of iron in exchange for our money. Well, withina week I am to deposit four millions for my share; the four millions, Ipromise you, will produce ten or twelve. "

"But during my visit to you the day before yesterday, sir, which youappear to recollect so well, " replied Eugenie, "I saw you arranging adeposit--is not that the term?--of five millions and a half; youeven pointed it out to me in two drafts on the treasury, and youwere astonished that so valuable a paper did not dazzle my eyes likelightning. "

"Yes, but those five millions and a half are not mine, and are only aproof of the great confidence placed in me; my title of popular bankerhas gained me the confidence of charitable institutions, and the fivemillions and a half belong to them; at any other time I should not havehesitated to make use of them, but the great losses I have recentlysustained are well known, and, as I told you, my credit is rathershaken. That deposit may be at any moment withdrawn, and if I hademployed it for another purpose, I should bring on me a disgracefulbankruptcy. I do not despise bankruptcies, believe me, but they mustbe those which enrich, not those which ruin. Now, if you marry M. Cavalcanti, and I get the three millions, or even if it is thought I amgoing to get them, my credit will be restored, and my fortune, whichfor the last month or two has been swallowed up in gulfs which havebeen opened in my path by an inconceivable fatality, will revive. Do youunderstand me?"

"Perfectly; you pledge me for three millions, do you not?"

"The greater the amount, the more flattering it is to you; it gives youan idea of your value. "

"Thank you. One word more, sir; do you promise me to make what useyou can of the report of the fortune M. Cavalcanti will bring withouttouching the money? This is no act of selfishness, but of delicacy. I amwilling to help rebuild your fortune, but I will not be an accomplice inthe ruin of others. "

"But since I tell you, " cried Danglars, "that with these threemillion"--

"Do you expect to recover your position, sir, without touching thosethree million?"

"I hope so, if the marriage should take place and confirm my credit. "

"Shall you be able to pay M. Cavalcanti the five hundred thousand francsyou promise for my dowry?"

"He shall receive them on returning from the mayor's. " [*]

* The performance of the civil marriage.

"Very well!"

"What next? what more do you want?"

"I wish to know if, in demanding my signature, you leave me entirelyfree in my person?"

"Absolutely. "

"Then, as I said before, sir, --very well; I am ready to marry M. Cavalcanti. "

"But what are you up to?"

"Ah, that is my affair. What advantage should I have over you, ifknowing your secret I were to tell you mine?" Danglars bit his lips. "Then, " said he, "you are ready to pay the official visits, which areabsolutely indispensable?"

"Yes, " replied Eugenie.

"And to sign the contract in three days?"

"Yes. "

"Then, in my turn, I also say, very well!" Danglars pressed hisdaughter's hand in his. But, extraordinary to relate, the father did notsay, "Thank you, my child, " nor did the daughter smile at her father. "Is the conference ended?" asked Eugenie, rising. Danglars motioned thathe had nothing more to say. Five minutes afterwards the piano resoundedto the touch of Mademoiselle d'Armilly's fingers, and MademoiselleDanglars was singing Brabantio's malediction on Desdemona. At the end ofthe piece Etienne entered, and announced to Eugenie that the horses werein the carriage, and that the baroness was waiting for her to pay hervisits. We have seen them at Villefort's; they proceeded then on theircourse.