# The Count of Monte-Cristo/Volume 3/Chapter 60

Contents
CHAPTER LX
THE TELEGRAPH
ONSIEUR AND MADAME DE VILLEFORT found on their return that the Count of Monte-Cristo, who had come to visit them in their absence, had been ushered into the drawing-room, and was still awaiting them there. Madame de Villefort, too agitated to receive him at once, retired to her bedroom, whilst the procureur du roi who could better depend upon himself, proceeded at once to the drawing-room.
Although Villefort, to all outward view, had completely masked his feelings, he could not dissipate the cloud on his brow, so that the count immediately remarked his somber and thoughtful air.
"Ma foi!" said Monte-Cristo, after the first compliments were over, "what is the matter with you, M. de Villefort? Have I arrived at the moment that you were drawing up some case of capital indictment?"
Villefort tried to smile.
"No, M. le Comte," he replied, "I am the only victim in this case. It is I who lose my cause; and it is ill-luck, obstinacy, and folly which have caused it to be decided against me."
"To what do you allude?" said Monte-Cristo, with well-feigned interest. "Have you really met with some great misfortune?"
"Oh! M. le Comte," said Villefort, with a bitter smile, "it is only a loss of money which I have sustained nothing worth mentioning."
"True," said Monte-Cristo, "the loss of a sum of money becomes almost immaterial with a fortune such as you possess, and a philosophic and elevated mind like yours."
"It is not so much the loss of the money which vexes me," said Villefort, "though, after all, nine hundred thousand francs are worth regretting; but I am the more annoyed with this fate, chance, or whatever you please to call the power which has destroyed my hopes of fortune, ​and may blast the prospects of my child also, as it is caused by the caprice of an old man relapsed into second childhood."
"What do you say?" said the count; "nine hundred thousand francs!
it is indeed a sum which might be regretted even by a philosopher. And who is the cause of all this annoyance?"
"My father, of whom I have spoken to you."
"M. Noirtier! but I thought you had told me he had become entirely paralyzed, and that all his faculties were completely destroyed?" ​"Yes, his bodily faculties, for he can neither move nor speak; never theless, he thinks, acts, and wills in the manner I have described. I left him about five minutes ago, and he is now occupied in dictating his will to two notaries."
"But to do this he must have spoken?"
"He has done better than that—he has made himself understood."
"How was such a thing possible?"
"By the help of his eyes, which are still full of life, and, as you perceive, can inflict mortal injury."
"My dear," said Madame de Villefort, who had just entered the room, "perhaps you exaggerate the evil."
"Good-morning, madame!" said the count, bowing.
Madame de Villefort acknowledged the salutation with one of her most gracious smiles.
"What is this that M. de Yillefort has been telling me?" demanded Monte-Cristo, "and what incomprehensible misfortune—"
"Incomprehensible is the word!" interrupted the procureur du roi, shrugging his shoulders. "An old man's caprice!"
"And is there no means of making him revoke his decision?"
"Yes," said Madame de Villefort; "and it is still entirely in the power of my husband to cause the will, which is now in prejudice of Valentine, to be altered in her favor."
The count, who perceived that M. and Mme. de Villefort were beginning to speak in parables, appeared to pay no attention to the conversation, and feigned to be watching Edward, who was pouring ink into the bird's water-glass.
"My dear," said Villefort, in answer to his wife, "you know I never play the patriarch in my family, nor have I ever considered that the fate of a universe was to be decided by my nod. Nevertheless, it is necessary that my will should be respected in my family, and that the folly of an old man and the caprice of a child should not be allowed to overturn a project entertained for years. The Baron d'Epinay was my friend, as you know, and an alliance with his son is most suitable."
"Do you think," said Madame de Yillefort, "that Valentine is in league with him? She has always been opposed to this marriage, and I should not be at all surprised if what we have just seen and heard is nothing but the execution of a plan concerted between them."
"Madame," said Villefort, "believe me, a fortune of nine hundred thousand francs is not so easily renounced."
"She could renounce the world, sir, since it is only about a year ago that she proposed entering a convent."
​"Notwithstanding your father's wishes to the contrary?" said Madame de Villefort, selecting a new point of attack. "That is a serious thing!"
Monte-Cristo, who pretended not to be listening, heard, however, every word that was said.
"Madame," replied Villefort, "I can truly say that I have always entertained a high respect for my father, because, to the natural feeling of relationship was added the consciousness of his moral superiority. The name of father is sacred in two senses,—he should be reverenced as the author of our being, and as our master; but, under the present circumstances, I am justified in doubting the wisdom of an old man who, because he hated the father, vents his anger on the son; it would be ​ridiculous in me to regulate my conduct by such caprices. I shall still continue to preserve the same respect toward M. Noirtier; I will suffer, without complaint, the pecuniary deprivation to which he has subjected me; but I will remain firm in my determination, and the world shall see which party has reason on his side. Consequently I shall marry my daughter to the Baron Franz d'Epinay, because I consider it would be a proper and eligible match, and, in short, because I choose to bestow my daughter's hand on whomsoever I please."
"What!" said the count, the approbation of whose eye Villefort had frequently solicited during this speech. "What! do you say that M. Noirtier disinherits Mademoiselle de Villefort because she is going to marry M. le Baron Franz d'Epinay?"
"Yes, sir, that is the reason," said Villefort, shrugging his shoulders.
"The apparent reason, at least," said Madame de Villefort.
"The real reason, madame, I can assure you; I know my father."
"But I want to know," said Madame de Villefort, "in what way M. d'Epinay can have displeased your father more than any other person?"
"I believe I know M. Franz d'Epinay," said the count; "is he not the son of General de Quesnel, who was created Baron d'Epinay by Charles X.?"
"The same," said Villefort.
"Well! but he is a charming young man, according to my ideas."
"He is, which makes me believe that it is only an excuse of M. Noirtier's; old men are always so selfish in their affection; M. Noirtier does not wish his granddaughter to marry," said Madame de Villefort.
"But," said Monte-Cristo, "do you not know any cause for this hatred?"
"Ah, ma foi! who is to know?"
"Perhaps it is some political difference?"
"My father and the Baron d'Epinay lived in those stormy times of which I have only seen the few last days," said Villefort.
"Was not your father a Bonapartist?" asked Monte-Cristo; "I think I remember that you told me something of that kind."
"My father has been a Jacobin more than anything else," said Villefort, carried by his emotion beyond the bounds of prudence; "and the senator's robe, which Napoleon cast on his shoulders, only served to disguise the old man without in any degree changing him. When my father conspired, it was not for the emperor, it was against the Bourbons; for M. Noirtier possessed this peculiarity, he never projected any Utopian schemes which could never be realized, but strove for possibilities, and he applied to the realization of these possibilities the terrible theories of the Mountain, which never shrank from any means."
​"Well," said Monte-Cristo, "it is just as I thought; it was politics which brought Noirtier and M. d'Epinay into personal contact. Although General d'Epinay served under Napoleon, did he not still retain royalist sentiments? And was he not the person who was assassinated one evening on leaving a Bonapartist meeting to which he had been invited on the supposition of his favoring the cause of the emperor?" Villefort looked at the count almost with terror.
"Am I mistaken, then?" said Monte-Cristo.
"No, sir, the facts were precisely what you have stated," said Madame de Villefort; "and it was to prevent the renewal of old feuds that M. de Villefort formed the idea of uniting the two children of these enemies."
"It was a sublime and charitable thought," said Monte-Cristo, "and the whole world should applaud it. It would be noble to see Mademoiselle Noirtier de Villefort assuming the title of Madame Franz d'Epinay."
Villefort shuddered and looked at Monte-Cristo as if he wished to read in his countenance the real feelings which had dictated the words he had just pronounced. But the count completely baffled the penetration of the procureur du roi, and prevented him from discovering anything beneath the never-varying smile he was so constantly in the habit of assuming.
"Although," said Villefort, "it will be a serious thing for Valentine to lose the fortune of her grandfather, I do not think that M. d'Epinay will be frightened at this pecuniary loss; he will, perhaps, hold me in greater esteem than the money itself, seeing that I sacrifice everything in order to keep my word with him; besides he knows that Valentine is rich in right of her mother, and that she will, in all probability, inherit the fortune of M. and Mme. de Saint-Meran, her mother's parents, who both love her tenderly."
"And who are fully as well worth loving and tending as M. de Noirtier," said Madame de Villefort; "besides, they are to come to Paris in about a month, and Valentine, after the affront she has received, need not continue to bury herself alive with M. Noirtier."
The count listened with satisfaction to this tale of wounded self-love and defeated ambition.
"But it seems to me," said Monte-Cristo, "and I must begin by asking your pardon for what I am about to say, that if M. Noirtier disinherits Mademoiselle de Villefort on account of her marrying a man whose father he detested, he cannot have the same cause of complaint against this dear Edward."
​"True," said Madame de Villefort, with an intonation of voice which it is impossible to describe; "is it not unjust shamefully unjust? Poor Edward is as much M. Noirtier's grandchild as Valentine, and yet, if she had not been going to marry M. Franz, M. Noirtier would have left her all his money; Edward, too, will bear the family name; and, supposing Valentine to be disinherited by her grandfather, she will still be three times richer than he."
The count listened and said no more.
"M. le Comte," said Villefort, "we will not entertain you any longer with our family misfortunes. It is true that my patrimony will go to endow the poor who to-day are really the rich, and my father will have deprived me of my lawful inheritance without any reason for doing so; but I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that I have acted like a man of sense and feeling. M. d'Epinay, to whom I had promised the interest of this sum, shall receive it, even if I endure the most cruel privations."
"However," said Madame de Villefort, returning to the one idea which incessantly occupied her mind, "perhaps it would be better to represent this unlucky affair to M. d'Epinay, in order to give him the opportunity of himself renouncing his claim to the hand of Mademoiselle de Villefort."
"Ah, that would be a great pity," said Villefort.
"A great pity," said Monte-Cristo.
"Undoubtedly," said Villefort, moderating the tones of his voice; "a marriage, once concerted and then broken off, throws a sort of discredit on a young lady; then, again, the old reports, which I was so anxious to put an end to, will instantly gain ground, no, it will all go well; M. d'Epinay, if he is an honorable man, will consider himself more than ever pledged to Mademoiselle de Villefort; unless he were actuated by a decided feeling of avarice; but that is impossible."
"I agree with M. de Villefort," said Monte-Cristo, fixing his eyes on Madame de Villefort; "and if I were sufficiently intimate with him to allow of giving my advice, I would persuade him, since I have been told M. d'Epinay is coming back, to settle this affair at once, beyond all possibility of revocation. I will answer for the success of a project which will reflect so much honor on M. de Villefort."
The procureur du roi rose, delighted with the proposition, but his wife slightly changed color.
"Well, that is all that I wanted, and I will be guided by a counselor such as you are," said he, extending his hand to Monte-Cristo. "Therefore, let every one here look upon what has passed to-day as if it had not happened. There is no change in our original plans."
​"Sir," said the count, "the world, unjust as it is, will be pleased with your resolution; your friends will be proud of you, and M. d'Epinay, even if he took Mademoiselle de Villefort without any dowry, which he will not do, would be delighted with the idea of entering a family which could make such sacrifices in order to keep a promise and fulfill a duty."
At the conclusion of these words, the count rose to depart.
"Are you going to leave us, M. le Comte?" said Madame de Villefort.
"I am sorry to say I must do so, madame; I only came to remind you of your promise for Saturday." .
"Did you fear that we should forget it?"
"You are very good, madame; but M. de Villefort has so many important and urgent occupations."
"My husband has given his word, sir," said Madame de Villefort; "you have just seen him keep it when he has all to lose, and surely there is more reason for his doing so where he has all to gain!"
"And," said Villefort, "is it at your house in the Champs Elysees that you receive your visitors?"
"No," said Monte-Cristo, "and this renders your kindness more meritorious, it is in the country."
"In the country?"
"Yes."
"Where is it, then? near Paris, is it not?"
"Very near; only half a league from the Barriers, it is at Auteuil."
"At Auteuil?" said Villefort; "true, Madame de Villefort told me you lived at Auteuil, since it was to your house that she was taken. And in what part of Auteuil do you reside?"
"Rue de la Fontaine."
"Rue de la Fontaine!" exclaimed Villefort, in an agitated tone; "at what number?"
"No. 28."
"Then," cried Villefort, "was it you who bought M. de Saint-Meran's house?"
"Did it belong to M. de Saint-Meran?" demanded Monte-Cristo.
"Yes," replied Madame de Villefort; "and, would you believe it, M. le Comte——"
"Believe what?"
"You think this house pretty, do you not?"
"I think it charming."
"Well! my husband would never live in it."
"Indeed!" returned Monte-Cristo; "that is a prejudice on your part, M. de Villefort, for which I am quite at a loss to account."
​"I do not like Auteuil, sir," said the procureur du roi, making an evident effort to appear calm.
"But I hope you will not carry your antipathy so far as to deprive me of the pleasure of your company, sir!" said Monte-Cristo.
"No, M. le Cointe—I hope—I assure you I will do aU I can," stammered Villefort.
"Oh," said Monte-Cristo, "I allow of no excuse. On Saturday, at six o'clock, I shall be expecting you, and if you fail to come, I shall think—for how do I know to the contrary?—that this house, which has remained uninhabited for twenty years, must have some gloomy tradition or dreadful legend connected with it."
"I will come, M. le Comte,—I will be sure to come," said Villefort eagerly.
"Thank you," said Monte-Cristo; "now you must permit me to take my leave of you."
"You said before you were obliged to leave us, M. le Comte," said Madame de Villefort, "and you were about to tell us the nature of the engagement which was to deprive us of the pleasure of your society, when your attention was called to some other subject."
"Indeed, madame!" said Monte-Cristo; "I scarcely know if I dare tell you where I am going."
"Bah! Tell us!"
"Well, then, it is to see a thing on which I have sometimes mused for hours together."
"What is it?"
"A telegraph. So now I have told my secret."
"A telegraph!" repeated Madame de Villefort.
"Yes, a telegraph! I had often seen one placed at the end of a road on a hillock, and in the light of the sun its black arms, bending in every direction, always reminded one of the claws of an immense beetle; and I assure you it was never without emotion that I gazed on it, for I could not help thinking how wonderful it was that these various signs should be made to cleave the air with such precision as to convey to the distance of three hundred leagues the ideas and wishes of a man sitting at a table at one end of the line to another man similarly placed at the opposite extremity, and all this effected by the simple act of volition on the part of the individual communicating the intelligence. I began to think of genii, sylphs, gnomes, in short, of all the ministers of the occult sciences, until I laughed. Now, it never occurred to me to wish for a nearer inspection of these large insects, with their long black claws, for I always feared to find under their stone wings some little human genius fagged to death with cabals, factions, and government ​intrigues. But one fine day I learned that the mover of this telegraph was only a poor wretch, hired for twelve hundred francs a year, and employed all the day, not in studying the heavens like an astronomer,
nor the water like an angler, nor the country around him like a dreamer, but in watching his fellow-insect, who was placed four or five leagues distant from him. At length I experienced a desire to observe nearer this living chrysalis, and to endeavor to understand the ​secret part played by those insect-actors simply by means of successively pulling different pieces of string.”
“And are you going there?”
“I am.”
“What telegraph do you intend visiting? that of the home department, or of the observatoire?”
“Oh, no! I shall find there people who will force me to understand things of which I would prefer to remain ignorant, and who would explain to me, in spite of myself, a mystery which even they do not understand. I should wish to keep my illusions concerning insects unimpaired; it is quite enough to have those dissipated which I had formed of my fellow-creatures. I shall, therefore, not visit either of those telegraphs, but one in the open country where I shall find a good-natured simpleton petritied in his tower.”
“You are a singular man,” said Villefort.
“What line would you advise me to study?”
“That which is most in use just at this time.”
“The Spanish one, you mean, I suppose?”
“Yes; should you like a letter to the minister that they might explain to you——"
“No,” said Monte-Cristo; “since, as I told you before, I do not wish to comprehend it. The moment I understand it, there will no longer exist a telegraph for me; it will be nothing more than a sign from M. Duchatel, or from M. Montalivet, transmitted to the préfet of Bayonne, mystified by two Greek words, téle graphein. It is the insect with black claws, and the awful word which I wish to retain in my imagination in all its purity and in all its importance.”
“Go, then; for in the course of two hours it will be dark, and you will not be able to see anything.”
“Ma foi! you frighten me. Which is the nearest!”
“On the road to Bayonne?”
“Yes! On the road to Bayonne!”
“The one at Chatillon.”
“And after Chatillon?”
“The tower of Montlhéry.”
“Thank you. Good-bye. On Saturday I will tell you my impressions.”
At the door the count was met by the two notaries, who had just completed the act which was to disinherit Valentine, and who were leaving under the conviction of having done a thing which could not fail of redounding to their credit.