"And this king's attorney was named Villefort?" asked Monte
Cristo carelessly.
"Yes, your excellency; he came from Marseilles, where he had
been deputy-procureur. His zeal had procured him advancement, and
he was said to be one of the first who had informed the government
of the departure from the Island of Elba."
"Then," said Monte Cristo "you went to him?"
"`Monsieur,' I said, `my brother was assassinated yesterday in
the streets of Nimes, I know not by whom, but it is your duty to
find out. You are the representative of justice here, and it is for
justice to avenge those she has been unable to protect.' — `Who was
your brother?' asked he. — `A lieutenant in the Corsican
battalion.' — `A soldier of the usurper, then?' — `A soldier of the
French army.' — `Well,' replied he, `he has smitten with the sword,
and he has perished by the sword.' — `You are mistaken, monsieur,'
I replied; `he has perished by the poniard.' — `What do you want me
to do?' asked the magistrate. — `I have already told you — avenge
him.' — `On whom?' — `On his murderers.' — `How should I know who
they are?' — `Order them to be sought for.' — `Why, your brother
has been involved in a quarrel, and killed in a duel. All these old
soldiers commit excesses which were tolerated in the time of the
emperor, but which are not suffered now, for the people here do not
like soldiers of such disorderly conduct.' — `Monsieur,' I replied,
`it is not for myself that I entreat your interference — I should
grieve for him or avenge him, but my poor brother had a wife, and
were anything to happen to me, the poor creature would perish from
want, for my brother's pay alone kept her. Pray, try and obtain a
small government pension for her.'
"`Every revolution has its catastrophes,' returned M. de
Villefort; `your brother has been the victim of this. It is a
misfortune, and government owes nothing to his family. If we are to
judge by all the vengeance that the followers of the usurper
exercised on the partisans of the king, when, in their turn, theyexercised on the partisans of the king, when, in their turn, they
were in power, your brother would be to-day, in all probability,
condemned to death. What has happened is quite natural, and in
conformity with the law of reprisals.' — `What,' cried I, `do you,
a magistrate, speak thus to me?' — `All these Corsicans are mad, on
my honor,' replied M. de Villefort; `they fancy that their
countryman is still emperor. You have mistaken the time, you should
have told me this two months ago, it is too late now. Go now, at
once, or I shall have you put out.'
"I looked at him an instant to see if there was anything to hope
from further entreaty. But he was a man of stone. I approached him,
and said in a low voice, `Well, since you know the Corsicans so
well, you know that they always keep their word. You think that it
was a good deed to kill my brother, who was a Bonapartist, because
you are a royalist. Well, I, who am a Bonapartist also, declare one
thing to you, which is, that I will kill you. From this moment I
declare the vendetta against you, so protect yourself as well as
you can, for the next time we meet your last hour has come.' And
before he had recovered from his surprise, I opened the door and
left the room."
"Well, well," said Monte Cristo, "such an innocent looking
person as you are to do those things, M. Bertuccio, and to a king's
attorney at that! But did he know what was meant by the terrible
word `vendetta'?"
"He knew so well, that from that moment he shut himself in his
house, and never went out unattended, seeking me high and low.
Fortunately, I was so well concealed that he could not find me.
Then he became alarmed, and dared not stay any longer at Nimes, so
he solicited a change of residence, and, as he was in reality very
influential, he was nominated to Versailles. But, as you know, a
Corsican who has sworn to avenge himself cares not for distance, so
his carriage, fast as it went, was never above half a day's journey
before me, who followed him on foot. The most important thing was,before me, who followed him on foot. The most important thing was,
not to kill him only — for I had an opportunity of doing so a
hundred times — but to kill him without being discovered — at
least, without being arrested. I no longer belonged to myself, for
I had my sister-in-law to protect and provide for. For three months
I watched M. de Villefort, for three months he took not a step
out-of-doors without my following him. At length I discovered that
he went mysteriously to Auteuil. I followed him thither, and I saw
him enter the house where we now are, only, instead of entering by
the great door that looks into the street, he came on horseback, or
in his carriage, left the one or the other at the little inn, and
entered by the gate you see there." Monte Cristo made a sign with
his head to show that he could discern in the darkness the door to
which Bertuccio alluded. "As I had nothing more to do at
Versailles, I went to Auteuil, and gained all the information I
could. If I wished to surprise him, it was evident this was the
spot to lie in wait for him. The house belonged, as the concierge
informed your excellency, to M. de Saint-Meran, Villefort's
father-in-law. M. de Saint-Meran lived at Marseilles, so that this
country house was useless to him, and it was reported to be let to
a young widow, known only by the name of `the baroness.'
"One evening, as I was looking over the wall, I saw a young and
handsome woman who was walking alone in that garden, which was not
overlooked by any windows, and I guessed that she was awaiting M.
de Villefort. When she was sufficiently near for me to distinguish
her features, I saw she was from eighteen to nineteen, tall and
very fair. As she had a loose muslin dress on and as nothing
concealed her figure, I saw she would ere long become a mother. A
few moments after, the little door was opened and a man entered.
The young woman hastened to meet him. They threw themselves into
each other's arms, embraced tenderly, and returned together to the


each other's arms, embraced tenderly, and returned together to the
house. The man was M. de Villefort; I fully believed that when he
went out in the night he would be forced to traverse the whole of
the garden alone."
"And," asked the count, "did you ever know the name of this
woman?"
"No, excellency," returned Bertuccio; "you will see that I had
no time to learn it."
"Go on."
"That evening," continued Bertuccio, "I could have killed the
procureur, but as I was not sufficiently acquainted with the
neighborhood, I was fearful of not killing him on the spot, and
that if his cries were overheard I might be taken; so I put it off
until the next occasion, and in order that nothing should escape
me, I took a chamber looking into the street bordered by the wall
of the garden. Three days after, about seven o'clock in the
evening, I saw a servant on horseback leave the house at full
gallop, and take the road to Sevres. I concluded that he was going
to Versailles, and I was not deceived. Three hours later, the man
returned covered with dust, his errand was performed, and two
minutes after, another man on foot, muffled in a mantle, opened the
little door of the garden, which he closed after him. I descended
rapidly; although I had not seen Villefort's face, I recognized him
by the beating of my heart. I crossed the street, and stopped at a
post placed at the angle of the wall, and by means of which I had
once before looked into the garden. This time I did not content
myself with looking, but I took my knife out of my pocket, felt
that the point was sharp, and sprang over the wall. My first care
was to run to the door; he had left the key in it, taking the
simple precaution of turning it twice in the lock. Nothing, then,
preventing my escape by this means, I examined the grounds. The
garden was long and narrow; a stretch of smooth turf extended down
the middle, and at the corners were clumps of trees with thick and
massy foliage, that made a background for the shrubs and flowers.massy foliage, that made a background for the shrubs and flowers.
In order to go from the door to the house, or from the house to the
door, M. de Villefort would be obliged to pass by one of these
clumps of trees.
"It was the end of September; the wind blew violently. The faint
glimpses of the pale moon, hidden momentarily by masses of dark
clouds that were sweeping across the sky, whitened the gravel walks
that led to the house, but were unable to pierce the obscurity of
the thick shrubberies, in which a man could conceal himself without
any fear of discovery. I hid myself in the one nearest to the path
Villefort must take, and scarcely was I there when, amidst the
gusts of wind, I fancied I heard groans; but you know, or rather
you do not know, your excellency, that he who is about to commit an
assassination fancies that he hears low cries perpetually ringing
in his ears. Two hours passed thus, during which I imagined I heard
moans repeatedly. Midnight struck. As the last stroke died away, I
saw a faint light shine through the windows of the private
staircase by which we have just descended. The door opened, and the
man in the mantle reappeared. The terrible moment had come, but I
had so long been prepared for it that my heart did not fail in the
least. I drew my knife from my pocket again, opened it, and made
ready to strike. The man in the mantle advanced towards me, but as
he drew near I saw that he had a weapon in his hand. I was afraid,
not of a struggle, but of a failure. When he was only a few paces
from me, I saw that what I had taken for a weapon was only a spade.
I was still unable to divine for what reason M. de Villefort had
this spade in his hands, when he stopped close to the thicket where
I was, glanced round, and began to dig a hole in the earth. I then
perceived that he was hiding something under his mantle, which he
laid on the grass in order to dig more freely. Then, I confess,
curiosity mingled with hatred; I wished to see what Villefort wascuriosity mingled with hatred; I wished to see what Villefort was
going to do there, and I remained motionless, holding my breath.
Then an idea crossed my mind, which was confirmed when I saw the
procureur lift from under his mantle a box, two feet long, and six
or eight inches deep. I let him place the box in the hole he had
made, then, while he stamped with his feet to remove all traces of
his occupation, I rushed on him and plunged my knife into his
breast, exclaiming, — `I am Giovanni Bertuccio; thy death for my
brother's; thy treasure for his widow; thou seest that my vengeance
is more complete than I had hoped.' I know not if he heard these
words; I think he did not, for he fell without a cry. I felt his
blood gush over my face, but I was intoxicated, I was delirious,
and the blood refreshed, instead of burning me. In a second I had
disinterred the box; then, that it might not be known I had done
so, I filled up the hole, threw the spade over the wall, and rushed
through the door, which I double-locked, carrying off the key."
"Ah," said Monte Cristo "it seems to me this was nothing but
murder and robbery."
"No, your excellency," returned Bertuccio; "it was a vendetta
followed by restitution."
"And was the sum a large one?"
"It was not money."
"Ah, I recollect," replied the count; "did you not say something
of an infant?"
"Yes, excellency; I hastened to the river, sat down on the bank,
and with my knife forced open the lock of the box. In a fine linen
cloth was wrapped a new-born child. Its purple visage, and its
violet-colored hands showed that it had perished from suffocation,
but as it was not yet cold, I hesitated to throw it into the water
that ran at my feet. After a moment I fancied that I felt a slight
pulsation of the heart, and as I had been assistant at the hospital
at Bastia, I did what a doctor would have done — I inflated the
lungs by blowing air into them, and at the expiration of a quarter
of an hour, it began to breathe, and cried feebly. In my turn I


of an hour, it began to breathe, and cried feebly. In my turn I
uttered a cry, but a cry of joy. `God has not cursed me then,' I
cried, `since he permits me to save the life of a human creature,
in exchange for the life I have taken away.'"
"And what did you do with the child?" asked Monte Cristo. "It
was an embarrassing load for a man seeking to escape."
"I had not for a moment the idea of keeping it, but I knew that
at Paris there was an asylum where they receive such creatures. As
I passed the city gates I declared that I had found the child on
the road, and I inquired where the asylum was; the box confirmed my
statement, the linen proved that the infant belonged to wealthy
parents, the blood with which I was covered might have proceeded
from the child as well as from any one else. No objection was
raised, but they pointed out the asylum, which was situated at the
upper end of the Rue d'Enfer, and after having taken the precaution
of cutting the linen in two pieces, so that one of the two letters
which marked it was on the piece wrapped around the child, while
the other remained in my possession, I rang the bell, and fled with
all speed. A fortnight after I was at Rogliano, and I said to
Assunta, — `Console thyself, sister; Israel is dead, but he is
avenged.' She demanded what I meant, and when I had told her all, —
`Giovanni,' said she, `you should have brought this child with you;
we would have replaced the parents it has lost, have called it
Benedetto, and then, in consequence of this good action, God would
have blessed us.' In reply I gave her the half of the linen I had
kept in order to reclaim him if we became rich."
"What letters were marked on the linen?" said Monte Cristo.
"An H and an N, surmounted by a baron's coronet."
"By heaven, M. Bertuccio, you make use of heraldic terms; where
did you study heraldry?"
"In your service, excellency, where everything is learned."
"Go on, I am curious to know two things."
"What are they, your excellency ?""Go on, I am curious to know two things."
"What are they, your excellency ?"
"What became of this little boy? for I think you told me it was
a boy, M. Bertuccio."
"No excellency, I do not recollect telling you that."
"I thought you did; I must have been mistaken."
"No, you were not, for it was in reality a little boy. But your
excellency wished to know two things; what was the second?"
"The second was the crime of which you were accused when you
asked for a confessor, and the Abbe Busoni came to visit you at
your request in the prison at Nimes."
"The story will be very long, excellency."
"What matter? you know I take but little sleep, and I do not
suppose you are very much inclined for it either." Bertuccio bowed,
and resumed his story.
"Partly to drown the recollections of the past that haunted me,
partly to supply the wants of the poor widow, I eagerly returned to
my trade of smuggler, which had become more easy since that
relaxation of the laws which always follows a revolution. The
southern districts were ill-watched in particular, in consequence
of the disturbances that were perpetually breaking out in Avignon,
Nimes, or Uzes. We profited by this respite on the part of the
government to make friends everywhere. Since my brother's
assassination in the streets of Nimes, I had never entered the
town; the result was that the inn-keeper with whom we were
connected, seeing that we would no longer come to him, was forced
to come to us, and had established a branch to his inn, on the road
from Bellegarde to Beaucaire, at the sign of the Pont du Gard. We
had thus, at Aigues-Mortes, Martigues, or Bouc, a dozen places
where we left our goods, and where, in case of necessity, we
concealed ourselves from the gendarmes and custom-house officers.
Smuggling is a profitable trade, when a certain degree of vigor and
intelligence is employed; as for myself, brought up in the
mountains, I had a double motive for fearing the gendarmes and
custom-house officers, as my appearance before the judges wouldcustom-house officers, as my appearance before the judges would
cause an inquiry, and an inquiry always looks back into the past.
And in my past life they might find something far more grave than
the selling of smuggled cigars, or barrels of brandy without a
permit. So, preferring death to capture, I accomplished the most
astonishing deeds, and which, more than once, showed me that the
too great care we take of our bodies is the only obstacle to the
success of those projects which require rapid decision, and
vigorous and determined execution. In reality, when you have once
devoted your life to your enterprises, you are no longer the equal
of other men, or, rather, other men are no longer your equals, and
whosoever has taken this resolution, feels his strength and
resources doubled."
"Philosophy, M. Bertuccio," interrupted the Count; "you have
done a little of everything in your life."
"Oh, excellency,"
"No, no; but philosophy at half-past ten at night is somewhat
late; yet I have no other observation to make, for what you say is
correct, which is more than can be said for all philosophy."
"My journeys became more and more extensive and more productive.
Assunta took care of all, and our little fortune increased. One day
as I was setting off on an expedition, `Go,' said she; `at your
return I will give you a surprise.' I questioned her, but in vain;
she would tell me nothing, and I departed. Our expedition lasted
nearly six weeks; we had been to Lucca to take in oil, to Leghorn
for English cottons, and we ran our cargo without opposition, and
returned home full of joy. When I entered the house, the first
thing I beheld in the middle of Assunta's chamber was a cradle that
might be called sumptuous compared with the rest of the furniture,
and in it a baby seven or eight months old. I uttered a cry of joy;
the only moments of sadness I had known since the assassination of
the procureur were caused by the recollection that I had abandoned
this child. For the assassination itself I had never felt any


this child. For the assassination itself I had never felt any
remorse. Poor Assunta had guessed all. She had profited by my
absence, and furnished with the half of the linen, and having
written down the day and hour at which I had deposited the child at
the asylum, had set off for Paris, and had reclaimed it. No
objection was raised, and the infant was given up to her. Ah, I
confess, your excellency, when I saw this poor creature sleeping
peacefully in its cradle, I felt my eyes filled with tears. `Ah,
Assunta,' cried I, `you are an excellent woman, and heaven will
bless you.'"
"This," said Monte Cristo, "is less correct than your
philosophy, — it is only faith."
"Alas, your excellency is right," replied Bertuccio, "and God
made this infant the instrument of our punishment. Never did a
perverse nature declare itself more prematurely, and yet it was not
owing to any fault in his bringing up. He was a most lovely child,
with large blue eyes, of that deep color that harmonizes so well
with the blond complexion; only his hair, which was too light, gave
his face a most singular expression, and added to the vivacity of
his look, and the malice of his smile. Unfortunately, there is a
proverb which says that `red is either altogether good or
altogether bad.' The proverb was but too correct as regarded
Benedetto, and even in his infancy he manifested the worst
disposition. It is true that the indulgence of his foster-mother
encouraged him. This child, for whom my poor sister would go to the
town, five or six leagues off, to purchase the earliest fruits and
the most tempting sweetmeats, preferred to Palma grapes or Genoese
preserves, the chestnuts stolen from a neighbor's orchard, or the
dried apples in his loft, when he could eat as well of the nuts and
apples that grew in my garden. One day, when Benedetto was about
five or six, our neighbor Vasilio, who, according to the custom of
the country, never locked up his purse or his valuables — for, as
your excellency knows, there are no thieves in Corsica — complainedyour excellency knows, there are no thieves in Corsica — complained
that he had lost a louis out of his purse; we thought he must have
made a mistake in counting his money, but he persisted in the
accuracy of his statement. One day, Benedetto, who had been gone
from the house since morning, to our great anxiety, did not return
until late in the evening, dragging a monkey after him, which he
said he had found chained to the foot of a tree. For more than a
month past, the mischievous child, who knew not what to wish for,
had taken it into his head to have a monkey. A boatman, who had
passed by Rogliano, and who had several of these animals, whose
tricks had greatly diverted him, had, doubtless, suggested this
idea to him. `Monkeys are not found in our woods chained to trees,'
said I; `confess how you obtained this animal.' Benedetto
maintained the truth of what he had said, and accompanied it with
details that did more honor to his imagination than to his
veracity. I became angry; he began to laugh, I threatened to strike
him, and he made two steps backwards. `You cannot beat me,' said
he; `you have no right, for you are not my father.'
"We never knew who had revealed this fatal secret, which we had
so carefully concealed from him; however, it was this answer, in
which the child's whole character revealed itself, that almost
terrified me, and my arm fell without touching him. The boy
triumphed, and this victory rendered him so audacious, that all the
money of Assunta, whose affection for him seemed to increase as he
became more unworthy of it, was spent in caprices she knew not how
to contend against, and follies she had not the courage to prevent.
When I was at Rogliano everything went on properly, but no sooner
was my back turned than Benedetto became master, and everything
went ill. When he was only eleven, he chose his companions from
among the young men of eighteen or twenty, the worst characters in
Bastia, or, indeed, in Corsica, and they had already, for someBastia, or, indeed, in Corsica, and they had already, for some
mischievous pranks, been several times threatened with a
prosecution. I became alarmed, as any prosecution might be attended
with serious consequences. I was compelled, at this period, to
leave Corsica on an important expedition; I reflected for a long
time, and with the hope of averting some impending misfortune, I
resolved that Benedetto should accompany me. I hoped that the
active and laborious life of a smuggler, with the severe discipline
on board, would have a salutary effect on his character, which was
now well-nigh, if not quite, corrupt. I spoke to Benedetto alone,
and proposed to him to accompany me, endeavoring to tempt him by
all the promises most likely to dazzle the imagination of a child
of twelve. He heard me patiently, and when I had finished, burst
out laughing.
"`Are you mad, uncle?' (he called me by this name when he was in
good humor); `do you think I am going to change the life I lead for
your mode of existence — my agreeable indolence for the hard and
precarious toil you impose on yourself, exposed to the bitter frost
at night, and the scorching heat by day, compelled to conceal
yourself, and when you are perceived, receive a volley of bullets,
all to earn a paltry sum? Why, I have as much money as I want;
mother Assunta always furnishes me when I ask for it! You see that
I should be a fool to accept your offer.' The arguments, and his
audacity, perfectly stupefied me. Benedetto rejoined his
associates, and I saw him from a distance point me out to them as a
fool."
"Sweet child," murmured Monte Cristo.
"Oh, had he been my own son," replied Bertuccio, "or even my
nephew, I would have brought him back to the right road, for the
knowledge that you are doing your duty gives you strength, but the
idea that I was striking a child whose father I had killed, made it
impossible for me to punish him. I gave my sister, who constantly
defended the unfortunate boy, good advice, and as she confessed


defended the unfortunate boy, good advice, and as she confessed
that she had several times missed money to a considerable amount, I
showed her a safe place in which to conceal our little treasure for
the future. My mind was already made up. Benedetto could read,
write, and cipher perfectly, for when the fit seized him, he
learned more in a day than others in a week. My intention was to
enter him as a clerk in some ship, and without letting him know
anything of my plan, to convey him some morning on board; by this
means his future treatment would depend upon his own conduct. I set
off for France, after having fixed upon the plan. Our cargo was to
be landed in the Gulf of Lyons, and this was a difficult thing to
do because it was then the year 1829. The most perfect tranquillity
was restored, and the vigilance of the custom-house officers was
redoubled, and their strictness was increased at this time, in
consequence of the fair at Beaucaire.
"Our expedition made a favorable beginning. We anchored our
vessel — which had a double hold, where our goods were concealed —
amidst a number of other vessels that bordered the banks of the
Rhone from Beaucaire to Arles. On our arrival we began to discharge
our cargo in the night, and to convey it into the town, by the help
of the inn-keeper with whom we were connected. Whether success
rendered us imprudent, or whether we were betrayed, I know not; but
one evening, about five o'clock, our little cabin-boy came
breathlessly, to inform us that he had seen a detachment of
custom-house officers advancing in our direction. It was not their
proximity that alarmed us, for detachments were constantly
patrolling along the banks of the Rhone, but the care, according to
the boy's account, that they took to avoid being seen. In an
instant we were on the alert, but it was too late; our vessel was
surrounded, and amongst the custom-house officers I observed
several gendarmes, and, as terrified at the sight of their uniforms
as I was brave at the sight of any other, I sprang into the hold,as I was brave at the sight of any other, I sprang into the hold,
opened a port, and dropped into the river, dived, and only rose at
intervals to breathe, until I reached a ditch that had recently
been made from the Rhone to the canal that runs from Beaucaire to
Aigues-Mortes. I was now safe, for I could swim along the ditch
without being seen, and I reached the canal in safety. I had
designedly taken this direction. I have already told your
excellency of an inn-keeper from Nimes who had set up a little
tavern on the road from Bellegarde to Beaucaire."
"Yes," said Monte Cristo "I perfectly recollect him; I think he
was your colleague."
"Precisely," answered Bertuccio; "but he had, seven or eight
years before this period, sold his establishment to a tailor at
Marseilles, who, having almost ruined himself in his old trade,
wished to make his fortune in another. Of course, we made the same
arrangements with the new landlord that we had with the old; and it
was of this man that I intended to ask shelter."
"What was his name?" inquired the count, who seemed to become
somewhat interested in Bertuccio's story.
"Gaspard Caderousse; he had married a woman from the village of
Carconte, and whom we did not know by any other name than that of
her village. She was suffering from malarial fever, and seemed
dying by inches. As for her husband, he was a strapping fellow of
forty, or five and forty, who had more than once, in time of
danger, given ample proof of his presence of mind and courage."
"And you say," interrupted Monte Cristo "that this took place
towards the year" —
"1829, your excellency."
"In what month?"
"June."
"The beginning or the end?"
"The evening of the 3d."
"Ah," said Monte Cristo "the evening of the 3d of June, 1829. Go
on."
"It was from Caderousse that I intended demanding shelter, and,
as we never entered by the door that opened onto the road, I
resolved not to break through the rule, so climbing over the
garden-hedge, I crept amongst the olive and wild fig trees, andgarden-hedge, I crept amongst the olive and wild fig trees, and
fearing that Caderousse might have some guest, I entered a kind of
shed in which I had often passed the night, and which was only
separated from the inn by a partition, in which holes had been made
in order to enable us to watch an opportunity of announcing our
presence. My intention was, if Caderousse was alone, to acquaint
him with my presence, finish the meal the custom-house officers had
interrupted, and profit by the threatened storm to return to the
Rhone, and ascertain the state of our vessel and its crew. I
stepped into the shed, and it was fortunate I did so, for at that
moment Caderousse entered with a stranger.
"I waited patiently, not to overhear what they said, but because
I could do nothing else; besides, the same thing had occurred often
before. The man who was with Caderousse was evidently a stranger to
the South of France; he was one of those merchants who come to sell
jewellery at the Beaucaire fair, and who during the month the fair
lasts, and during which there is so great an influx of merchants
and customers from all parts of Europe, often have dealings to the
amount of 100,000 to 150,000 francs. Caderousse entered hastily.
Then, seeing that the room was, as usual, empty, and only guarded
by the dog, he called to his wife, `Hello, Carconte,' said he, `the
worthy priest has not deceived us; the diamond is real.' An
exclamation of joy was heard, and the staircase creaked beneath a
feeble step. `What do you say?' asked his wife, pale as death.
"`I say that the diamond is real, and that this gentleman, one
of the first jewellers of Paris, will give us 50,000 francs for it.
Only, in order to satisfy himself that it really belongs to us, he
wishes you to relate to him, as I have done already, the miraculous
manner in which the diamond came into our possession. In the
meantime please to sit down, monsieur, and I will fetch you some
refreshment.' The jeweller examined attentively the interior of the


refreshment.' The jeweller examined attentively the interior of the
inn and the apparent poverty of the persons who were about to sell
him a diamond that seemed to have come from the casket of a prince.
`Relate your story, madame,' said he, wishing, no doubt, to profit
by the absence of the husband, so that the latter could not
influence the wife's story, to see if the two recitals tallied.
"`Oh,' returned she, `it was a gift of heaven. My husband was a
great friend, in 1814 or 1815, of a sailor named Edmond Dantes.
This poor fellow, whom Caderousse had forgotten, had not forgotten
him, and at his death he bequeathed this diamond to him.' — `But
how did he obtain it?' asked the jeweller; `had he it before he was
imprisoned?' — `No, monsieur; but it appears that in prison he made
the acquaintance of a rich Englishman, and as in prison he fell
sick, and Dantes took the same care of him as if he had been his
brother, the Englishman, when he was set free, gave this stone to
Dantes, who, less fortunate, died, and, in his turn, left it to us,
and charged the excellent abbe, who was here this morning, to
deliver it.' — `The same story,' muttered the jeweller; `and
improbable as it seemed at first, it may be true. There's only the
price we are not agreed about.' — `How not agreed about?' said
Caderousse. `I thought we agreed for the price I asked.' — `That
is,' replied the jeweller, `I offered 40,000 francs.' — `Forty
thousand,' cried La Carconte; `we will not part with it for that
sum. The abbe told us it was worth 50,000 without the setting.'
"`What was the abbe's name?' asked the indefatigable questioner.
— `The Abbe Busoni,' said La Carconte. — `He was a foreigner?' —
`An Italian, from the neighborhood of Mantua, I believe.' — `Let me
see this diamond again,' replied the jeweller; `the first time you
are often mistaken as to the value of a stone.' Caderousse took
from his pocket a small case of black shagreen, opened, and gave it
to the jeweller. At the sight of the diamond, which was as large asto the jeweller. At the sight of the diamond, which was as large as
a hazel-nut, La Carconte's eyes sparkled with cupidity."
"And what did you think of this fine story, eavesdropper?" said
Monte Cristo; "did you credit it?"
"Yes, your excellency. I did not look on Caderousse as a bad
man, and I thought him incapable of committing a crime, or even a
theft."
"That did more honor to your heart than to your experience, M.
Bertuccio. Had you known this Edmond Dantes, of whom they
spoke?"
"No, your excellency, I had never heard of him before, and never
but once afterwards, and that was from the Abbe Busoni himself,
when I saw him in the prison at Nimes."
"Go on."
"The jeweller took the ring, and drawing from his pocket a pair
of steel pliers and a small set of copper scales, he took the stone
out of its setting, and weighed it carefully. `I will give you
45,000,' said he, `but not a sou more; besides, as that is the
exact value of the stone, I brought just that sum with me.' — `Oh,
that's no matter,' replied Caderousse, `I will go back with you to
fetch the other 5,000 francs.' — `No,' returned the jeweller,
giving back the diamond and the ring to Caderousse — `no, it is
worth no more, and I am sorry I offered so much, for the stone has
a flaw in it, which I had not seen. However, I will not go back on
my word, and I will give 45,000.' — `At least, replace the diamond
in the ring,' said La Carconte sharply. — `Ah, true,' replied the
jeweller, and he reset the stone. — `No matter,' observed
Caderousse, replacing the box in his pocket, `some one else will
purchase it.' — `Yes,' continued the jeweller; `but some one else
will not be so easy as I am, or content himself with the same
story. It is not natural that a man like you should possess such a
diamond. He will inform against you. You will have to find the Abbe
Busoni; and abbes who give diamonds worth two thousand louis are
rare. The law would seize it, and put you in prison; if at the end
of three or four months you are set at liberty, the ring will beof three or four months you are set at liberty, the ring will be
lost, or a false stone, worth three francs, will be given you,
instead of a diamond worth 50,000 or perhaps 55,000 francs; from
which you must allow that one runs considerable risk in
purchasing.' Caderousse and his wife looked eagerly at each other.
— `No,' said Caderousse, `we are not rich enough to lose 5,000
francs.' — `As you please, my dear sir,' said the, jeweller; `I
had, however, as you see, brought you the money in bright coin.'
And he drew from his pocket a handful of gold, and held it
sparkling before the dazzled eyes of the innkeeper, and in the
other hand he held a packet of bank-notes.
"There was evidently a severe struggle in the mind of
Caderousse; it was plain that the small shagreen case, which he
turned over and over in his hand, did not seem to him commensurate
in value to the enormous sum which fascinated his gaze. He turned
towards his wife. `What do you think of this?' he asked in a low
voice. — `Let him have it — let him have it,' she said. `If he
returns to Beaucaire without the diamond, he will inform against
us, and, as he says, who knows if we shall ever again see the Abbe
Busoni? — in all probability we shall never see him.' — `Well,
then, so I will!' said Caderousse; `so you may have the diamond for
45,000 francs. But my wife wants a gold chain, and I want a pair of
silver buckles.' The jeweller drew from his pocket a long flat box,
which contained several samples of the articles demanded. `Here,'
he said, `I am very straightforward in my dealings — take your
choice.' The woman selected a gold chain worth about five louis,
and the husband a pair of buckles. worth perhaps fifteen francs. —
`I hope you will not complain now?' said the jeweller.
"`The abbe told me it was worth 50,000 francs,' muttered
Caderousse. `Come, come — give it to me! What a strange fellow you
are,' said the jeweller, taking the diamond from his hand. `I give
you 45,000 francs — that is, 2,500 livres of income, — a fortune


you 45,000 francs — that is, 2,500 livres of income, — a fortune
such as I wish I had myself, and you are not satisfied!' — `And the
five and forty thousand francs,' inquired Caderousse in a hoarse
voice, `where are they? Come — let us see them.' — `Here they are,'
replied the jeweller, and he counted out upon the table 15,000
francs in gold, and 30,000 francs in bank-notes.
"`Wait while I light the lamp,' said La Carconte; `it is growing
dark, and there may be some mistake.' In fact, night had come on
during this conversation, and with night the storm which had been
threatening for the last half-hour. The thunder growled in the
distance; but it was apparently not heard by the jeweller,
Caderousse, or La Carconte, absorbed as they were all three with
the demon of gain. I myself felt; a strange kind of fascination at
the sight of all this gold and all these bank-notes; it seemed to
me that I was in a dream, and, as it always happens in a dream, I
felt myself riveted to the spot. Caderousse counted and again
counted the gold and the notes, then handed them to his wife, who
counted and counted them again in her turn. During this time, the
jeweller made the diamond play and sparkle in the lamplight, and
the gem threw out jets of light which made him unmindful of those
which — precursors of the storm — began to play in at the windows.
`Well,' inquired the jeweller, `is the cash all right?'
"`Yes,' said Caderousse. `Give me the pocket-book, La Carconte,
and find a bag somewhere.'
"La Carconte went to a cupboard, and returned with an old
leathern pocket-book and a bag. From the former she took some
greasy letters, and put in their place the bank-notes, and from the
bag took two or three crowns of six livres each, which, in all
probability, formed the entire fortune of the miserable couple.
`There,' said Caderousse; `and now, although you have wronged us of
perhaps 10,000 francs, will you have your supper with us? I invite
you with good-will.' — `Thank you,' replied the jeweller, `it mustyou with good-will.' — `Thank you,' replied the jeweller, `it must
be getting late, and I must return to Beaucaire — my wife will be
getting uneasy.' He drew out his watch, and exclaimed, `Morbleu,
nearly nine o'clock — why, I shall not get back to Beaucaire before
midnight! Good-night, my friends. If the Abbe Busoni should by any
accident return, think of me.' — `In another week you will have
left Beaucaire.' remarked Caderousse, `for the fair ends in a few
days.' — `True, but that makes no difference. Write to me at Paris,
to M. Joannes, in the Palais Royal, arcade Pierre, No. 45. I will
make the journey on purpose to see him, if it is worth while.' At
this moment there was a tremendous clap of thunder, accompanied by
a flash of lightning so vivid, that it quite eclipsed the light of
the lamp.
"`See here,' exclaimed Caderousse. `You cannot think of going
out in such weather as this.' — `Oh, I am not afraid of thunder,'
said the jeweller. — `And then there are robbers,' said La
Carconte. `The road is never very safe during fair time.' — `Oh, as
to the robbers,' said Joannes, `here is something for them,' and he
drew from his pocket a pair of small pistols, loaded to the muzzle.
`Here,' said he, `are dogs who bark and bite at the same time, they
are for the two first who shall have a longing for your diamond,
Friend Caderousse.'
"Caderousse and his wife again interchanged a meaning look. It
seemed as though they were both inspired at the same time with some
horrible thought. `Well, then, a good journey to you,' said
Caderousse. — `Thanks,' replied the jeweller. He then took his
cane, which he had placed against an old cupboard, and went out. At
the moment when he opened the door, such a gust of wind came in
that the lamp was nearly extinguished. `Oh,' said he, `this is very
nice weather, and two leagues to go in such a storm.' — `Remain,'
said Caderousse. `You can sleep here.' — `Yes; do stay,' added La
Carconte in a tremulous voice; `we will take every care of you.' —Carconte in a tremulous voice; `we will take every care of you.' —
`No; I must sleep at Beaucaire. So, once more, good-night.'
Caderousse followed him slowly to the threshold. `I can see neither
heaven nor earth,' said the jeweller, who was outside the door. `Do
I turn to the right, or to the left hand?' — `To the right,' said
Caderousse. `You cannot go wrong — the road is bordered by trees on
both sides.' — `Good — all right,' said a voice almost lost in the
distance. `Close the door,' said La Carconte; `I do not like open
doors when it thunders.' — `Particularly when there is money in the
house, eh?' answered Caderousse, double-locking the door.
"He came into the room, went to the cupboard, took out the bag
and pocket-book, and both began, for the third time, to count their
gold and bank-notes. I never saw such an expression of cupidity as
the flickering lamp revealed in those two countenances. The woman,
especially, was hideous; her usual feverish tremulousness was
intensified, her countenance had become livid, and her eyes
resembled burning coals. `Why,' she inquired in a hoarse voice,
`did you invite him to sleep here to-night?' — `Why?' said
Caderousse with a shudder; `why, that he might not have the trouble
of returning to Beaucaire.' — `Ah,' responded the woman, with an
expression impossible to describe; `I thought it was for something
else.' — `Woman, woman — why do you have such ideas?' cried
Caderousse; `or, if you have them, why don't you keep them to
yourself?' — `Well,' said La Carconte, after a moment's pause, `you
are not a man.' — `What do you mean?' added Caderousse. — `If you
had been a man, you would not have let him go from here.' —
`Woman!' — `Or else he should not have reached Beaucaire.' —
`Woman!' — `The road takes a turn — he is obliged to follow it —
while alongside of the canal there is a shorter road.' — `Woman! —
you offend the good God. There — listen!' And at this moment there
was a tremendous peal of thunder, while the livid lightning


was a tremendous peal of thunder, while the livid lightning
illumined the room, and the thunder, rolling away in the distance,
seemed to withdraw unwillingly from the cursed abode. `Mercy!' said
Caderousse, crossing himself.
At the same moment, and in the midst of the terrifying silence
which usually follows a clap of thunder, they heard a knocking at
the door. Caderousse and his wife started and looked aghast at each
other. `Who's there?' cried Caderousse, rising, and drawing up in a
heap the gold and notes scattered over the table, and which he
covered with his two hands. — `It is I,' shouted a voice. — `And
who are you?' — `Eh, pardieu, Joannes, the jeweller.' — `Well, and
you said I offended the good God,' said La Carconte with a horrid
smile. `Why, the good God sends him back again.' Caderousse sank
pale and breathless into his chair. La Carconte, on the contrary,
rose, and going with a firm step towards the door, opened it,
saying, as she did so — `Come in, dear M. Joannes.' — `Ma foi,'
said the jeweller, drenched with rain, `I am not destined to return
to Beaucaire to-night. The shortest follies are best, my dear
Caderousse. You offered me hospitality, and I accept it, and have
returned to sleep beneath your friendly roof.' Caderousse stammered
out something, while he wiped away the sweat that started to his
brow. La Carconte double-locked the door behind the jeweller."As the jeweller returned to the apartment, he cast around him a
scrutinizing glance — but there was nothing to excite suspicion, if
it did not exist, or to confirm it, if it were already awakened.
Caderousse's hands still grasped the gold and bank-notes, and La
Carconte called up her sweetest smiles while welcoming the
reappearance of their guest. `Well, well,' said the jeweller, `you
seem, my good friends, to have had some fears respecting the
accuracy of your money, by counting it over so carefully directly I
was gone.' — `Oh, no,' answered Caderousse, `that was not my
reason, I can assure you; but the circumstances by which we have
become possessed of this wealth are so unexpected, as to make us
scarcely credit our good fortune, and it is only by placing the
actual proof of our riches before our eyes that we can persuade
ourselves that the whole affair is not a dream.' The jeweller
smiled. — `Have you any other guests in your house?' inquired he. —
`Nobody but ourselves,' replied Caderousse; `the fact is, we do not
lodge travellers — indeed, our tavern is so near the town, that
nobody would think of stopping here. — `Then I am afraid I shall
very much inconvenience you.' — `Inconvenience us? Not at all, my
dear sir,' said La Carconte in her most gracious manner. `Not at
all, I assure you.' — `But where will you manage to stow me?' — `In
the chamber overhead.' — `Surely that is where you yourselves
sleep?' — `Never mind that; we have a second bed in the adjoining
room.' Caderousse stared at his wife with much astonishment.
"The jeweller, meanwhile, was humming a song as he stood warming
his back at the fire La Carconte had kindled to dry the wet
garments of her guest; and this done, she next occupied herself in
arranging his supper, by spreading a napkin at the end of the
table, and placing on it the slender remains of their dinner, to
which she added three or four fresh-laid eggs. Caderousse had once
more parted with his treasure — the banknotes were replaced in themore parted with his treasure — the banknotes were replaced in the
pocket-book, the gold put back into the bag, and the whole
carefully locked in the cupboard. He then began pacing the room
with a pensive and gloomy air, glancing from time to time at the
jeweller, who stood reeking with the steam from his wet clothes,
and merely changing his place on the warm hearth, to enable the
whole of his garments to be dried.
"`There,' said La Carconte, as she placed a bottle of wine on
the table, `supper is ready whenever you are.' — `And you?' asked
Joannes. — `I don't want any supper,' said Caderousse. — `We dined
so very late,' hastily interposed La Carconte. — `Then it seems I
am to eat alone,' remarked the jeweller. — `Oh, we shall have the
pleasure of waiting upon you,' answered La Carconte, with an eager
attention she was not accustomed to manifest even to guests who
paid for what they took.
"From time to time Caderousse darted on his wife keen, searching
glances, but rapid as the lightning flash. The storm still
continued. `There, there,' said La Carconte; `do you hear that?
upon my word, you did well to come back.' — `Nevertheless,' replied
the jeweller, `if by the time I have finished my supper the tempest
has at all abated, I shall make another start.' — `It's the
mistral,' said Caderousse, `and it will be sure to last till
to-morrow morning.' He sighed heavily. — `Well,' said the jeweller,
as he placed himself at table, `all I can say is, so much the worse
for those who are abroad.' — `Yes,' chimed in La Carconte, `they
will have a wretched night of it.'
"The jeweller began eating his supper, and the woman, who was
ordinarily so querulous and indifferent to all who approached her,
was suddenly transformed into the most smiling and attentive
hostess. Had the unhappy man on whom she lavished her assiduities
been previously acquainted with her, so sudden an alteration might
well have excited suspicion in his mind, or at least have greatly
astonished him. Caderousse, meanwhile, continued to pace the room


astonished him. Caderousse, meanwhile, continued to pace the room
in gloomy silence, sedulously avoiding the sight of his guest; but
as soon as the stranger had completed his repast, the agitated
inn-keeper went eagerly to the door and opened it. `I believe the
storm is over,' said he. But as if to contradict his statement, at
that instant a violent clap of thunder seemed to shake the house to
its very foundation, while a sudden gust of wind, mingled with
rain, extinguished the lamp he held in his hand. Trembling and
awe-struck, Caderousse hastily shut the door and returned to his
guest, while La Carconte lighted a candle by the smouldering ashes
that glimmered on the hearth. `You must be tired,' said she to the
jeweller; `I have spread a pair of white sheets on your bed; go up
when you are ready, and sleep well.'
"Joannes stayed for a while to see whether the storm seemed to
abate in its fury, but a brief space of time sufficed to assure him
that, instead of diminishing, the violence of the rain and thunder
momentarily increased; resigning himself, therefore, to what seemed
inevitable, he bade his host good-night, and mounted the stairs. He
passed over my head and I heard the flooring creak beneath his
footsteps. The quick, eager glance of La Carconte followed him as
he ascended, while Caderousse, on the contrary, turned his back,
and seemed most anxiously to avoid even glancing at him.
"All these circumstances did not strike me as painfully at the
time as they have since done; in fact, all that had happened (with
the exception of the story of the diamond, which certainly did wear
an air of improbability), appeared natural enough, and called for
neither apprehension nor mistrust; but, worn out as I was with
fatigue, and fully purposing to proceed onwards directly the
tempest abated, I determined to obtain a few hours' sleep. Overhead
I could accurately distinguish every movement of the jeweller, who,
after making the best arrangements in his power for passing aafter making the best arrangements in his power for passing a
comfortable night, threw himself on his bed, and I could hear it
creak and groan beneath his weight. Insensibly my eyelids grew
heavy, deep sleep stole over me, and having no suspicion of
anything wrong, I sought not to shake it off. I looked into the
kitchen once more and saw Caderousse sitting by the side of a long
table upon one of the low wooden stools which in country places are
frequently used instead of chairs; his back was turned towards me,
so that I could not see the expression of his countenance — neither
should I have been able to do so had he been placed differently, as
his head was buried between his two hands. La Carconte continued to
gaze on him for some time, then shrugging her shoulders, she took
her seat immediately opposite to him. At this moment the expiring
embers threw up a fresh flame from the kindling of a piece of wood
that lay near, and a bright light flashed over the room. La
Carconte still kept her eyes fixed on her husband, but as he made
no sign of changing his position, she extended her hard, bony hand,
and touched him on the forehead.
"Caderousse shuddered. The woman's lips seemed to move, as
though she were talking; but because she merely spoke in an
undertone, or my senses were dulled by sleep, I did not catch a
word she uttered. Confused sights and sounds seemed to float before
me, and gradually I fell into a deep, heavy slumber. How long I had
been in this unconscious state I know not, when I was suddenly
aroused by the report of a pistol, followed by a fearful cry. Weak
and tottering footsteps resounded across the chamber above me, and
the next instant a dull, heavy weight seemed to fall powerless on
the staircase. I had not yet fully recovered consciousness, when
again I heard groans, mingled with half-stifled cries, as if from
persons engaged in a deadly struggle. A cry more prolonged than the
others and ending in a series of groans effectually roused me fromothers and ending in a series of groans effectually roused me from
my drowsy lethargy. Hastily raising myself on one arm, I looked
around, but all was dark; and it seemed to me as if the rain must
have penetrated through the flooring of the room above, for some
kind of moisture appeared to fall, drop by drop, upon my forehead,
and when I passed my hand across my brow, I felt that it was wet
and clammy.
"To the fearful noises that had awakened me had succeeded the
most perfect silence — unbroken, save by the footsteps of a man
walking about in the chamber above. The staircase creaked, he
descended into the room below, approached the fire and lit a
candle. The man was Caderousse — he was pale and his shirt was all
blood. Having obtained the light, he hurried up-stairs again, and
once more I heard his rapid and uneasy footsteps. A moment later he
came down again, holding in his hand the small shagreen case, which
he opened, to assure himself it contained the diamond, — seemed to
hesitate as to which pocket he should put it in, then, as if
dissatisfied with the security of either pocket, he deposited it in
his red handkerchief, which he carefully rolled round his head.
After this he took from his cupboard the bank-notes and gold he had
put there, thrust the one into the pocket of his trousers, and the
other into that of his waistcoat, hastily tied up a small bundle of
linen, and rushing towards the door, disappeared in the darkness of
the night.
"Then all became clear and manifest to me, and I reproached
myself with what had happened, as though I myself had done the
guilty deed. I fancied that I still heard faint moans, and
imagining that the unfortunate jeweller might not be quite dead, I
determined to go to his relief, by way of atoning in some slight
degree, not for the crime I had committed, but for that which I had
not endeavored to prevent. For this purpose I applied all the
strength I possessed to force an entrance from the cramped spot in
which I lay to the adjoining room. The poorly fastened boards which


which I lay to the adjoining room. The poorly fastened boards which
alone divided me from it yielded to my efforts, and I found myself
in the house. Hastily snatching up the lighted candle, I hurried to
the staircase; about midway a body was lying quite across the
stairs. It was that of La Carconte. The pistol I had heard had
doubtless been fired at her. The shot had frightfully lacerated her
throat, leaving two gaping wounds from which, as well as the mouth,
the blood was pouring in floods. She was stone dead. I strode past
her, and ascended to the sleeping chamber, which presented an
appearance of the wildest disorder. The furniture had been knocked
over in the deadly struggle that had taken place there, and the
sheets, to which the unfortunate jeweller had doubtless clung, were
dragged across the room. The murdered man lay on the floor, his
head leaning against the wall, and about him was a pool of blood
which poured forth from three large wounds in his breast; there was
a fourth gash, in which a long table knife was plunged up to the
handle.
"I stumbled over some object; I stooped to examine — it was the
second pistol, which had not gone off, probably from the powder
being wet. I approached the jeweller, who was not quite dead, and
at the sound of my footsteps and the creaking of the floor, he
opened his eyes, fixed them on me with an anxious and inquiring
gaze, moved his lips as though trying to speak, then, overcome by
the effort, fell back and expired. This appalling sight almost
bereft me of my senses, and finding that I could no longer be of
service to any one in the house, my only desire was to fly. I
rushed towards the staircase, clutching my hair, and uttering a
groan of horror. Upon reaching the room below, I found five or six
custom-house officers, and two or three gendarmes — all heavily
armed. They threw themselves upon me. I made no resistance; I was
no longer master of my senses. When I strove to speak, a few
inarticulate sounds alone escaped my lips.inarticulate sounds alone escaped my lips.
"As I noticed the significant manner in which the whole party
pointed to my blood-stained garments, I involuntarily surveyed
myself, and then I discovered that the thick warm drops that had so
bedewed me as I lay beneath the staircase must have been the blood
of La Carconte. I pointed to the spot where I had concealed myself.
`What does he mean?' asked a gendarme. One of the officers went to
the place I directed. `He means,' replied the man upon his return,
`that he got in that way;' and he showed the hole I had made when I
broke through.
"Then I saw that they took me for the assassin. I recovered
force and energy enough to free myself from the hands of those who
held me, while I managed to stammer forth — `I did not do it!
Indeed, indeed I did not!' A couple of gendarmes held the muzzles
of their carbines against my breast. — `Stir but a step,' said
they, `and you are a dead man.' — `Why should you threaten me with
death,' cried I, `when I have already declared my innocence?' —
`Tush, tush,' cried the men; `keep your innocent stories to tell to
the judge at Nimes. Meanwhile, come along with us; and the best
advice we can give you is to do so unresistingly.' Alas, resistance
was far from my thoughts. I was utterly overpowered by surprise and
terror; and without a word I suffered myself to be handcuffed and
tied to a horse's tail, and thus they took me to Nimes.
"I had been tracked by a customs-officer, who had lost sight of
me near the tavern; feeling certain that I intended to pass the
night there, he had returned to summon his comrades, who just
arrived in time to hear the report of the pistol, and to take me in
the midst of such circumstantial proofs of my guilt as rendered all
hopes of proving my innocence utterly futile. One only chance was
left me, that of beseeching the magistrate before whom I was taken
to cause every inquiry to be made for the Abbe Busoni, who had
stopped at the inn of the Pont du Gard on that morning. Ifstopped at the inn of the Pont du Gard on that morning. If
Caderousse had invented the story relative to the diamond, and
there existed no such person as the Abbe Busoni, then, indeed, I
was lost past redemption, or, at least, my life hung upon the
feeble chance of Caderousse himself being apprehended and
confessing the whole truth. Two months passed away in hopeless
expectation on my part, while I must do the magistrate the justice
to say that he used every means to obtain information of the person
I declared could exculpate me if he would. Caderousse still evaded
all pursuit, and I had resigned myself to what seemed my inevitable
fate. My trial was to come on at the approaching assizes; when, on
the 8th of September — that is to say, precisely three months and
five days after the events which had perilled my life — the Abbe
Busoni, whom I never ventured to believe I should see, presented
himself at the prison doors, saying he understood one of the
prisoners wished to speak to him; he added, that having learned at
Marseilles the particulars of my imprisonment, he hastened to
comply with my desire. You may easily imagine with what eagerness I
welcomed him, and how minutely I related the whole of what I had
seen and heard. I felt some degree of nervousness as I entered upon
the history of the diamond, but, to my inexpressible astonishment,
he confirmed it in every particular, and to my equal surprise, he
seemed to place entire belief in all I said. And then it was that,
won by his mild charity, seeing that he was acquainted with all the
habits and customs of my own country, and considering also that
pardon for the only crime of which I was really guilty might come
with a double power from lips so benevolent and kind, I besought
him to receive my confession, under the seal of which I recounted
the Auteuil affair in all its details, as well as every other
transaction of my life. That which I had done by the impulse of my
best feelings produced the same effect as though it had been the


best feelings produced the same effect as though it had been the
result of calculation. My voluntary confession of the assassination
at Auteuil proved to him that I had not committed that of which I
stood accused. When he quitted me, he bade me be of good courage,
and to rely upon his doing all in his power to convince my judges
of my innocence.
"I had speedy proofs that the excellent abbe was engaged in my
behalf, for the rigors of my imprisonment were alleviated by many
trifling though acceptable indulgences, and I was told that my
trial was to be postponed to the assizes following those now being
held. In the interim it pleased providence to cause the
apprehension of Caderousse, who was discovered in some distant
country, and brought back to France, where he made a full
confession, refusing to make the fact of his wife's having
suggested and arranged the murder any excuse for his own guilt. The
wretched man was sentenced to the galleys for life, and I was
immediately set at liberty."
"And then it was, I presume," said Monte Cristo "that you came
to me as the bearer of a letter from the Abbe Busoni?"
"It was, your excellency; the benevolent abbe took an evident
interest in all that concerned me.
"`Your mode of life as a smuggler,' said he to me one day, `will
be the ruin of you; if you get out, don't take it up again.' — `But
how,' inquired I, `am I to maintain myself and my poor sister?'
"`A person, whose confessor I am,' replied he, `and who
entertains a high regard for me, applied to me a short time since
to procure him a confidential servant. Would you like such a post?
If so, I will give you a letter of introduction to him.' — `Oh,
father,' I exclaimed, `you are very good.'
"`But you must swear solemnly that I shall never have reason to
repent my recommendation.' I extended my hand, and was about to
pledge myself by any promise he would dictate, but he stopped me.
`It is unnecessary for you to bind yourself by any vow,' said he;
`I know and admire the Corsican nature too well to fear you. Here,`I know and admire the Corsican nature too well to fear you. Here,
take this,' continued he, after rapidly writing the few lines I
brought to your excellency, and upon receipt of which you deigned
to receive me into your service, and proudly I ask whether your
excellency has ever had cause to repent having done so?"
"No," replied the count; "I take pleasure in saying that you
have served me faithfully, Bertuccio; but you might have shown more
confidence in me."
"I, your excellency?"
"Yes; you. How comes it, that having both a sister and an
adopted son, you have never spoken to me of either?"
"Alas, I have still to recount the most distressing period of my
life. Anxious as you may suppose I was to behold and comfort my
dear sister, I lost no time in hastening to Corsica, but when I
arrived at Rogliano I found a house of mourning, the consequences
of a scene so horrible that the neighbors remember and speak of it
to this day. Acting by my advice, my poor sister had refused to
comply with the unreasonable demands of Benedetto, who was
continually tormenting her for money, as long as he believed there
was a sou left in her possession. One morning that he had demanded
money, threatening her with the severest consequences if she did
not supply him with what he desired, he disappeared and remained
away all day, leaving the kind-hearted Assunta, who loved him as if
he were her own child, to weep over his conduct and bewail his
absence. Evening came, and still, with all the patient solicitude
of a mother, she watched for his return.
"As the eleventh hour struck, he entered with a swaggering air,
attended by two of the most dissolute and reckless of his boon
companions. She stretched out her arms to him, but they seized hold
of her, and one of the three — none other than the accursed
Benedetto exclaimed, — `Put her to torture and she'll soon tell us
where her money is.'
"It unfortunately happened that our neighbor, Vasilio, was at
Bastia, leaving no person in his house but his wife; no humanBastia, leaving no person in his house but his wife; no human
creature beside could hear or see anything that took place within
our dwelling. Two held poor Assunta, who, unable to conceive that
any harm was intended to her, smiled in the face of those who were
soon to become her executioners. The third proceeded to barricade
the doors and windows, then returned, and the three united in
stifling the cries of terror incited by the sight of these
preparations, and then dragged Assunta feet foremost towards the
brazier, expecting to wring from her an avowal of where her
supposed treasure was secreted. In the struggle her clothes caught
fire, and they were obliged to let go their hold in order to
preserve themselves from sharing the same fate. Covered with
flames, Assunta rushed wildly to the door, but it was fastened; she
flew to the windows, but they were also secured; then the neighbors
heard frightful shrieks; it was Assunta calling for help. The cries
died away in groans, and next morning, as soon as Vasilio's wife
could muster up courage to venture abroad, she caused the door of
our dwelling to be opened by the public authorities, when Assunta,
although dreadfully burnt, was found still breathing; every drawer
and closet in the house had been forced open, and the money stolen.
Benedetto never again appeared at Rogliano, neither have I since
that day either seen or heard anything concerning him.
"It was subsequently to these dreadful events that I waited on
your excellency, to whom it would have been folly to have mentioned
Benedetto, since all trace of him seemed entirely lost; or of my
sister, since she was dead."
"And in what light did you view the occurrence?" inquired Monte
Cristo.
"As a punishment for the crime I had committed," answered
Bertuccio. "Oh, those Villeforts are an accursed race!"
"Truly they are," murmured the count in a lugubrious tone.
"And now," resumed Bertuccio, "your excellency may, perhaps, be
able to comprehend that this place, which I revisit for the first


able to comprehend that this place, which I revisit for the first
time — this garden, the actual scene of my crime — must have given
rise to reflections of no very agreeable nature, and produced that
gloom and depression of spirits which excited the notice of your
excellency, who was pleased to express a desire to know the cause.
At this instant a shudder passes over me as I reflect that possibly
I am now standing on the very grave in which lies M. de Villefort,
by whose hand the ground was dug to receive the corpse of his
child."
"Everything is possible," said Monte Cristo, rising from the
bench on which he had been sitting; "even," he added in an
inaudible voice, "even that the procureur be not dead. The Abbe
Busoni did right to send you to me," he went on in his ordinary
tone, "and you have done well in relating to me the whole of your
history, as it will prevent my forming any erroneous opinions
concerning you in future. As for that Benedetto, who so grossly
belied his name, have you never made any effort to trace out
whither he has gone, or what has become of him?"
"No; far from wishing to learn whither he has betaken himself, I
should shun the possibility of meeting him as I would a wild beast.
Thank God, I have never heard his name mentioned by any person, and
I hope and believe he is dead."
"Do not think so, Bertuccio," replied the count; "for the wicked
are not so easily disposed of, for God seems to have them under his
special watch-care to make of them instruments of his
vengeance."
"So be it," responded Bertuccio, "all I ask of heaven is that I
may never see him again. And now, your excellency," he added,
bowing his head, "you know everything — you are my judge on earth,
as the Almighty is in heaven; have you for me no words of
consolation?"
"My good friend, I can only repeat the words addressed to you by
the Abbe Busoni. Villefort merited punishment for what he had done
to you, and, perhaps, to others. Benedetto, if still living, will
become the instrument of divine retribution in some way or other,become the instrument of divine retribution in some way or other,
and then be duly punished in his turn. As far as you yourself are
concerned, I see but one point in which you are really guilty. Ask
yourself, wherefore, after rescuing the infant from its living
grave, you did not restore it to its mother? There was the crime,
Bertuccio — that was where you became really culpable."
"True, excellency, that was the crime, the real crime, for in
that I acted like a coward. My first duty, directly I had succeeded
in recalling the babe to life, was to restore it to its mother;
but, in order to do so, I must have made close and careful inquiry,
which would, in all probability, have led to my own apprehension;
and I clung to life, partly on my sister's account, and partly from
that feeling of pride inborn in our hearts of desiring to come off
untouched and victorious in the execution of our vengeance.
Perhaps, too, the natural and instinctive love of life made me wish
to avoid endangering my own. And then, again, I am not as brave and
courageous as was my poor brother." Bertuccio hid his face in his
hands as he uttered these words, while Monte Cristo fixed on him a
look of inscrutable meaning. After a brief silence, rendered still
more solemn by the time and place, the count said, in a tone of
melancholy wholly unlike his usual manner, "In order to bring this
conversation to a fitting termination (the last we shall ever hold
upon this subject), I will repeat to you some words I have heard
from the lips of the Abbe Busoni. For all evils there are two
remedies — time and silence. And now leave me, Monsieur Bertuccio,
to walk alone here in the garden. The very circumstances which
inflict on you, as a principal in the tragic scene enacted here,
such painful emotions, are to me, on the contrary, a source of
something like contentment, and serve but to enhance the value of
this dwelling in my estimation. The chief beauty of trees consists
in the deep shadow of their umbrageous boughs, while fancy picturesin the deep shadow of their umbrageous boughs, while fancy pictures
a moving multitude of shapes and forms flitting and passing beneath
that shade. Here I have a garden laid out in such a way as to
afford the fullest scope for the imagination, and furnished with
thickly grown trees, beneath whose leafy screen a visionary like
myself may conjure up phantoms at will. This to me, who expected
but to find a blank enclosure surrounded by a straight wall, is, I
assure you, a most agreeable surprise. I have no fear of ghosts,
and I have never heard it said that so much harm had been done by
the dead during six thousand years as is wrought by the living in a
single day. Retire within, Bertuccio, and tranquillize your mind.
Should your confessor be less indulgent to you in your dying
moments than you found the Abbe Busoni, send for me, if I am still
on earth, and I will soothe your ears with words that shall
effectually calm and soothe your parting soul ere it goes forth to
traverse the ocean called eternity."
Bertuccio bowed respectfully, and turned away, sighing heavily.
Monte Cristo, left alone, took three or four steps onwards, and
murmured, "Here, beneath this plane-tree, must have been where the
infant's grave was dug. There is the little door opening into the
garden. At this corner is the private staircase communicating with
the sleeping apartment. There will be no necessity for me to make a
note of these particulars, for there, before my eyes, beneath my
feet, all around me, I have the plan sketched with all the living
reality of truth." After making the tour of the garden a second
time, the count re-entered his carriage, while Bertuccio, who
perceived the thoughtful expression of his master's features, took
his seat beside the driver without uttering a word. The carriage
proceeded rapidly towards Paris.
That same evening, upon reaching his abode in the Champs
Elysees, the Count of Monte Cristo went over the whole building
with the air of one long acquainted with each nook or corner. Nor,


with the air of one long acquainted with each nook or corner. Nor,
although preceding the party, did he once mistake one door for
another, or commit the smallest error when choosing any particular
corridor or staircase to conduct him to a place or suite of rooms
he desired to visit. Ali was his principal attendant during this
nocturnal survey. Having given various orders to Bertuccio relative
to the improvements and alterations he desired to make in the
house, the Count, drawing out his watch, said to the attentive
Nubian, "It is half-past eleven o'clock; Haidee will soon he here.
Have the French attendants been summoned to await her coming?" Ali
extended his hands towards the apartments destined for the fair
Greek, which were so effectually concealed by means of a tapestried
entrance, that it would have puzzled the most curious to have
divined their existence. Ali, having pointed to the apartments,
held up three fingers of his right hand, and then, placing it
beneath his head, shut his eyes, and feigned to sleep. "I
understand," said Monte Cristo, well acquainted with Ali's
pantomime; "you mean to tell me that three female attendants await
their new mistress in her sleeping-chamber." Ali, with considerable
animation, made a sign in the affirmative.
"Madame will be tired to-night," continued Monte Cristo, "and
will, no doubt, wish to rest. Desire the French attendants not to
weary her with questions, but merely to pay their respectful duty
and retire. You will also see that the Greek servants hold no
communication with those of this country." He bowed. Just at that
moment voices were heard hailing the concierge. The gate opened, a
carriage rolled down the avenue, and stopped at the steps. The
count hastily descended, presented himself at the already opened
carriage door, and held out his hand to a young woman, completely
enveloped in a green silk mantle heavily embroidered with gold. She
raised the hand extended towards her to her lips, and kissed itraised the hand extended towards her to her lips, and kissed it
with a mixture of love and respect. Some few words passed between
them in that sonorous language in which Homer makes his gods
converse. The young woman spoke with an expression of deep
tenderness, while the count replied with an air of gentle gravity.
Preceded by Ali, who carried a rose-colored flambeau in his hand,
the new-comer, who was no other than the lovely Greek who had been
Monte Cristo's companion in Italy, was conducted to her apartments,
while the count retired to the pavilion reserved for himself. In
another hour every light in the house was extinguished, and it
might have been thought that all its inmates slept.About two o'clock the following day a calash, drawn by a pair of
magnificent English horses, stopped at the door of Monte Cristo and
a person, dressed in a blue coat, with buttons of a similar color,
a white waistcoat, over which was displayed a massive gold chain,
brown trousers, and a quantity of black hair descending so low over
his eyebrows as to leave it doubtful whether it were not artificial
so little did its jetty glossiness assimilate with the deep
wrinkles stamped on his features — a person, in a word, who,
although evidently past fifty, desired to be taken for not more
than forty, bent forwards from the carriage door, on the panels of
which were emblazoned the armorial bearings of a baron, and
directed his groom to inquire at the porter's lodge whether the
Count of Monte Cristo resided there, and if he were within. While
waiting, the occupant of the carriage surveyed the house, the
garden as far as he could distinguish it, and the livery of
servants who passed to and fro, with an attention so close as to be
somewhat impertinent. His glance was keen but showed cunning rather
than intelligence; his lips were straight, and so thin that, as
they closed, they were drawn in over the teeth; his cheek-bones
were broad and projecting, a never-failing proof of audacity and
craftiness; while the flatness of his forehead, and the enlargement
of the back of his skull, which rose much higher than his large and
coarsely shaped ears, combined to form a physiognomy anything but
prepossessing, save in the eyes of such as considered that the
owner of so splendid an equipage must needs be all that was
admirable and enviable, more especially when they gazed on the
enormous diamond that glittered in his shirt, and the red ribbon
that depended from his button-hole.
The groom, in obedience to his orders, tapped at the window of
the porter's lodge, saying, "Pray, does not the Count of Monte
Cristo live here?"
"His excellency does reside here," replied the concierge; "but"Cristo live here?"
"His excellency does reside here," replied the concierge; "but"
— added he, glancing an inquiring look at Ali. Ali returned a sign
in the negative. "But what?" asked the groom.
"His excellency does not receive visitors to-day."
"Then here is my master's card, — the Baron Danglars. You will
take it to the count, and say that, although in haste to attend the
Chamber, my master came out of his way to have the honor of calling
upon him."
"I never speak to his excellency," replied the concierge; "the
valet de chambre will carry your message." The groom returned to
the carriage. "Well?" asked Danglars. The man, somewhat
crest-fallen by the rebuke he had received, repeated what the
concierge had said. "Bless me," murmured Baron Danglars, "this must
surely be a prince instead of a count by their styling him
`excellency,' and only venturing to address him by the medium of
his valet de chambre. However, it does not signify; he has a letter
of credit on me, so I must see him when he requires his money."
Then, throwing himself back in his carriage, Danglars called out
to his coachman, in a voice that might be heard across the road,
"To the Chamber of Deputies."
Apprised in time of the visit paid him, Monte Cristo had, from
behind the blinds of his pavilion, as minutely observed the baron,
by means of an excellent lorgnette, as Danglars himself had
scrutinized the house, garden, and servants. "That fellow has a
decidedly bad countenance," said the count in a tone of disgust, as
he shut up his glass into its ivory case. "How comes it that all do
not retreat in aversion at sight of that flat, receding,
serpent-like forehead, round, vulture-shaped head, and sharp-hooked
nose, like the beak of a buzzard? Ali," cried he, striking at the
same time on the brazen gong. Ali appeared. "Summon Bertuccio,"
said the count. Almost immediately Bertuccio entered the apartment.
"Did your excellency desire to see me?" inquired he. "I did,"
replied the count. "You no doubt observed the horses standing a few


replied the count. "You no doubt observed the horses standing a few
minutes since at the door?"
"Certainly, your excellency. I noticed them for their remarkable
beauty."
"Then how comes it," said Monte Cristo with a frown, "that, when
I desired you to purchase for me the finest pair of horses to be
found in Paris, there is another pair, fully as fine as mine, not
in my stables?" At the look of displeasure, added to the angry tone
in which the count spoke, Ali turned pale and held down his head.
"It is not your fault, my good Ali," said the count in the Arabic
language, and with a gentleness none would have thought him capable
of showing, either in voice or face — "it is not your fault. You do
not understand the points of English horses." The countenance of
poor Ali recovered its serenity. "Permit me to assure your
excellency," said Bertuccio, "that the horses you speak of were not
to be sold when I purchased yours." Monte Cristo shrugged his
shoulders. "It seems, sir steward," said he, "that you have yet to
learn that all things are to be sold to such as care to pay the
price."
"His excellency is not, perhaps, aware that M. Danglars gave
16,000 francs for his horses?"
"Very well. Then offer him double that sum; a banker never loses
an opportunity of doubling his capital."
"Is your excellency really in earnest?" inquired the steward.
Monte Cristo regarded the person who durst presume to doubt his
words with the look of one equally surprised and displeased. "I
have to pay a visit this evening," replied he. "I desire that these
horses, with completely new harness, may be at the door with my
carriage." Bertuccio bowed, and was about to retire; but when he
reached the door, he paused, and then said, "At what o'clock does
your excellency wish the carriage and horses to be ready?"
"At five o'clock," replied the count.
"I beg your excellency's pardon," interposed the steward in a
deprecating manner, "for venturing to observe that it is already
two o'clock."
"I am perfectly aware of that fact," answered Monte Cristotwo o'clock."
"I am perfectly aware of that fact," answered Monte Cristo
calmly. Then, turning towards Ali, he said, "Let all the horses in
my stables be led before the windows of your young lady, that she
may select those she prefers for her carriage. Request her also to
oblige me by saying whether it is her pleasure to dine with me; if
so, let dinner be served in her apartments. Now, leave me, and
desire my valet de chambre to come hither." Scarcely had Ali
disappeared when the valet entered the chamber. "Monsieur
Baptistin," said the count, "you have been in my service one year,
the time I generally give myself to judge of the merits or demerits
of those about me. You suit me very well." Baptistin bowed low. "It
only remains for me to know whether I also suit you?"
"Oh, your excellency!" exclaimed Baptistin eagerly.
"Listen, if you please, till I have finished speaking," replied
Monte Cristo. "You receive 1,500 francs per annum for your services
here — more than many a brave subaltern, who continually risks his
life for his country, obtains. You live in a manner far superior to
many clerks who work ten times harder than you do for their money.
Then, though yourself a servant, you have other servants to wait
upon you, take care of your clothes, and see that your linen is
duly prepared for you. Again, you make a profit upon each article
you purchase for my toilet, amounting in the course of a year to a
sum equalling your wages."
"Nay, indeed, your excellency."
"I am not condemning you for this, Monsieur Baptistin; but let
your profits end here. It would be long indeed ere you would find
so lucrative a post as that you have now the good fortune to fill.
I neither ill-use nor ill-treat my servants by word or action. An
error I readily forgive, but wilful negligence or forgetfulness,
never. My commands are ordinarily short, clear, and precise; and I
would rather be obliged to repeat my words twice, or even three
times, than they should be misunderstood. I am rich enough to knowtimes, than they should be misunderstood. I am rich enough to know
whatever I desire to know, and I can promise you I am not wanting
in curiosity. If, then, I should learn that you had taken upon
yourself to speak of me to any one favorably or unfavorably, to
comment on my actions, or watch my conduct, that very instant you
would quit my service. You may now retire. I never caution my
servants a second time — remember that." Baptistin bowed, and was
proceeding towards the door. "I forgot to mention to you," said the
count, "that I lay yearly aside a certain sum for each servant in
my establishment; those whom I am compelled to dismiss lose (as a
matter of course) all participation in this money, while their
portion goes to the fund accumulating for those domestics who
remain with me, and among whom it will be divided at my death. You
have been in my service a year, your fund has already begun to
accumulate — let it continue to do so."
This address, delivered in the presence of Ali, who, not
understanding one word of the language in which it was spoken,
stood wholly unmoved, produced an effect on M. Baptistin only to be
conceived by such as have occasion to study the character and
disposition of French domestics. "I assure your excellency," said
he, "that at least it shall be my study to merit your approbation
in all things, and I will take M. Ali as my model."
"By no means," replied the count in the most frigid tones; "Ali
has many faults mixed with most excellent qualities. He cannot
possibly serve you as a pattern for your conduct, not being, as you
are, a paid servant, but a mere slave — a dog, who, should he fail
in his duty towards me, I should not discharge from my service, but
kill." Baptistin opened his eyes with astonishment.
"You seem incredulous," said Monte Cristo, who repeated to Ali
in the Arabic language what he had just been saying to Baptistin in
French. The Nubian smiled assentingly to his master's words, then,
kneeling on one knee, respectfully kissed the hand of the count.


kneeling on one knee, respectfully kissed the hand of the count.
This corroboration of the lesson he had just received put the
finishing stroke to the wonder and stupefaction of M. Baptistin.
The count then motioned the valet de chambre to retire, and to Ali
to follow to his study, where they conversed long and earnestly
together. As the hand of the clock pointed to five the count struck
thrice upon his gong. When Ali was wanted one stroke was given, two
summoned Baptistin, and three Bertuccio. The steward entered. "My
horses," said Monte Cristo.
"They are at the door harnessed to the carriage as your
excellency desired. Does your excellency wish me to accompany
him?"
"No, the coachman, Ali, and Baptistin will go." The count
descended to the door of his mansion, and beheld his carriage drawn
by the very pair of horses he had so much admired in the morning as
the property of Danglars. As he passed them he said — "They are
extremely handsome certainly, and you have done well to purchase
them, although you were somewhat remiss not to have procured them
sooner."
"Indeed, your excellency, I had very considerable difficulty in
obtaining them, and, as it is, they have cost an enormous
price."
"Does the sum you gave for them make the animals less
beautiful," inquired the count, shrugging his shoulders.
"Nay, if your excellency is satisfied, it is all that I could
wish. Whither does your excellency desire to be driven?"
"To the residence of Baron Danglars, Rue de la Chaussee
d'Antin." This conversation had passed as they stood upon the
terrace, from which a flight of stone steps led to the
carriage-drive. As Bertuccio, with a respectful bow, was moving
away, the count called him back. "I have another commission for
you, M. Bertuccio," said he; "I am desirous of having an estate by
the seaside in Normandy — for instance, between Havre and Boulogne.
You see I give you a wide range. It will be absolutely necessary
that the place you may select have a small harbor, creek, or bay,that the place you may select have a small harbor, creek, or bay,
into which my corvette can enter and remain at anchor. She draws
only fifteen feet. She must be kept in constant readiness to sail
immediately I think proper to give the signal. Make the requisite
inquiries for a place of this description, and when you have met
with an eligible spot, visit it, and if it possess the advantages
desired, purchase it at once in your own name. The corvette must
now, I think, be on her way to Fecamp, must she not?"
"Certainly, your excellency; I saw her put to sea the same
evening we quitted Marseilles."
"And the yacht."
"Was ordered to remain at Martigues."
"'Tis well. I wish you to write from time to time to the
captains in charge of the two vessels so as to keep them on the
alert."
"And the steamboat?"
"She is at Chalons?"
"Yes."
"The same orders for her as for the two sailing vessels."
"Very good."
"When you have purchased the estate I desire, I want constant
relays of horses at ten leagues apart along the northern and
southern road."
"Your excellency may depend upon me." The Count made a gesture
of satisfaction, descended the terrace steps, and sprang into his
carriage, which was whirled along swiftly to the banker's house.
Danglars was engaged at that moment, presiding over a railroad
committee. But the meeting was nearly concluded when the name of
his visitor was announced. As the count's title sounded on his ear
he rose, and addressing his colleagues, who were members of one or
the other Chamber, he said, — "Gentlemen, pardon me for leaving you
so abruptly; but a most ridiculous circumstance has occurred, which
is this, — Thomson & French, the Roman bankers, have sent to me
a certain person calling himself the Count of Monte Cristo, and
have given him an unlimited credit with me. I confess this is the
drollest thing I have ever met with in the course of my extensive
foreign transactions, and you may readily suppose it has greatly
roused my curiosity. I took the trouble this morning to call on theroused my curiosity. I took the trouble this morning to call on the
pretended count — if he were a real count he wouldn't be so rich.
But, would you believe it, `He was not receiving.' So the master of
Monte Cristo gives himself airs befitting a great millionaire or a
capricious beauty. I made inquiries, and found that the house in
the Champs Elysees is his own property, and certainly it was very
decently kept up. But," pursued Danglars with one of his sinister
smiles, "an order for unlimited credit calls for something like
caution on the part of the banker to whom that order is given. I am
very anxious to see this man. I suspect a hoax is intended, but the
instigators of it little knew whom they had to deal with. `They
laugh best who laugh last!'"
Having delivered himself of this pompous address, uttered with a
degree of energy that left the baron almost out of breath, he bowed
to the assembled party and withdrew to his drawing-room, whose
sumptuous furnishings of white and gold had caused a great
sensation in the Chaussee d'Antin. It was to this apartment he had
desired his guest to be shown, with the purpose of overwhelming him
at the sight of so much luxury. He found the count standing before
some copies of Albano and Fattore that had been passed off to the
banker as originals; but which, mere copies as they were, seemed to
feel their degradation in being brought into juxtaposition with the
gaudy colors that covered the ceiling. The count turned round as he
heard the entrance of Danglars into the room. With a slight
inclination of the head, Danglars signed to the count to be seated,
pointing significantly to a gilded arm-chair, covered with white
satin embroidered with gold. The count sat down. "I have the honor,
I presume, of addressing M. de Monte Cristo."
The count bowed. "And I of speaking to Baron Danglars, chevalier
of the Legion of Honor, and member of the Chamber of Deputies?"
Monte Cristo repeated all the titles he had read on the baron's
card.


Monte Cristo repeated all the titles he had read on the baron's
card.
Danglars felt the irony and compressed his lips. "You will, I
trust, excuse me, monsieur, for not calling you by your title when
I first addressed you," he said, "but you are aware that we are
living under a popular form of government, and that I am myself a
representative of the liberties of the people."
"So much so," replied Monte Cristo, "that while you call
yourself baron you are not willing to call anybody else count."
"Upon my word, monsieur," said Danglars with affected
carelessness, "I attach no sort of value to such empty
distinctions; but the fact is, I was made baron, and also chevalier
of the Legion of Honor, in return for services rendered, but" —
"But you have discarded your titles after the example set you by
Messrs. de Montmorency and Lafayette? That was a noble example to
follow, monsieur."
"Why," replied Danglars, "not entirely so; with the servants, —
you understand."
"I see; to your domestics you are `my lord,' the journalists
style you `monsieur,' while your constituents call you `citizen.'
These are distinctions very suitable under a constitutional
government. I understand perfectly." Again Danglars bit his lips;
he saw that he was no match for Monte Cristo in an argument of this
sort, and he therefore hastened to turn to subjects more
congenial.
"Permit me to inform you, Count," said he, bowing, "that I have
received a letter of advice from Thomson & French, of
Rome."
"I am glad to hear it, baron, — for I must claim the privilege
of addressing you after the manner of your servants. I have
acquired the bad habit of calling persons by their titles from
living in a country where barons are still barons by right of
birth. But as regards the letter of advice, I am charmed to find
that it has reached you; that will spare me the troublesome and
disagreeable task of coming to you for money myself. You have
received a regular letter of advice?"
"Yes," said Danglars, "but I confess I didn't quite comprehend
its meaning."
"Indeed?""Yes," said Danglars, "but I confess I didn't quite comprehend
its meaning."
"Indeed?"
"And for that reason I did myself the honor of calling upon you,
in order to beg for an explanation."
"Go on, monsieur. Here I am, ready to give you any explanation
you desire."
"Why," said Danglers, "in the letter — I believe I have it about
me" — here he felt in his breast-pocket — "yes, here it is. Well,
this letter gives the Count of Monte Cristo unlimited credit on our
house."
"Well, baron, what is there difficult to understand about
that?"
"Merely the term unlimited — nothing else, certainly."
"Is not that word known in France? The people who wrote are
Anglo-Germans, you know."
"Oh, as for the composition of the letter, there is nothing to
be said; but as regards the competency of the document, I certainly
have doubts."
"Is it possible?" asked the count, assuming all air and tone of
the utmost simplicity and candor. "Is it possible that Thomson
& French are not looked upon as safe and solvent bankers? Pray
tell me what you think, baron, for I feel uneasy, I can assure you,
having some considerable property in their hands."
"Thomson & French are perfectly solvent," replied Danglars,
with an almost mocking smile: "but the word unlimited, in financial
affairs, is so extremely vague."
"Is, in fact, unlimited," said Monte Cristo.
"Precisely what I was about to say," cried Danglars. "Now what
is vague is doubtful; and it was a wise man who said, `when in
doubt, keep out.'"
"Meaning to say," rejoined Monte Cristo, "that however Thomson
& French may be inclined to commit acts of imprudence and
folly, the Baron Danglars is not disposed to follow their
example."
"Not at all."
"Plainly enough. Messrs. Thomson & French set no bounds to
their engagements while those of M. Danglars have their limits; he
is a wise man, according to his own showing."
"Monsieur," replied the banker, drawing himself up with a
haughty air, "the extent of my resources has never yet been
questioned."haughty air, "the extent of my resources has never yet been
questioned."
"It seems, then, reserved for me," said Monte Cristo coldly, "to
be the first to do so."
"By what right, sir?"
"By right of the objections you have raised, and the
explanations you have demanded, which certainly must have some
motive."
Once more Danglars bit his lips. It was the second time he had
been worsted, and this time on his own ground. His forced
politeness sat awkwardly upon him, and approached almost to
impertinence. Monte Cristo on the contrary, preserved a graceful
suavity of demeanor, aided by a certain degree of simplicity he
could assume at pleasure, and thus possessed the advantage.
"Well, sir," resumed Danglars, after a brief silence, "I will
endeavor to make myself understood, by requesting you to inform me
for what sum you propose to draw upon me?"
"Why, truly," replied Monte Cristo, determined not to lose an
inch of the ground he had gained, "my reason for desiring an
`unlimited' credit was precisely because I did not know how much
money I might need."
The banker thought the time had come for him to take the upper
hand. So throwing himself back in his arm-chair, he said, with an
arrogant and purse-proud air, — "Let me beg of you not to hesitate
in naming your wishes; you will then be convinced that the
resources of the house of Danglars, however limited, are still
equal to meeting the largest demands; and were you even to require
a million" —
"I beg your pardon," interposed Monte Cristo.
"I said a million," replied Danglars, with the confidence of
ignorance.
"But could I do with a million?" retorted the count. "My dear
sir, if a trifle like that could suffice me, I should never have
given myself the trouble of opening an account. A million? Excuse
my smiling when you speak of a sum I am in the habit of carrying in
my pocket-book or dressing-case." And with these words Monte Cristo
took from his pocket a small case containing his visiting-cards,
and drew forth two orders on the treasury for 500,000 francs each,