# The Count of Monte-Cristo/Volume 4/Chapter 87

Contents
CHAPTER LXXXVII
THE CHALLENGE
HEN," continued Beauchamp, "I took advantage of the silence and the darkness to leave the house without being seen. The door-keeper who had introduced me conducted me through the corridors to a private entrance opening into la Rue de Vaugirard. I left with mingled feelings of sorrow and delight. Excuse me, Albert, sorrow on your account, and delight with that noble girl, thus pursuing paternal vengeance. Yes, Albert, from whatever source the blow may have proceeded—it may be from an enemy, but that enemy is only the agent of Providence."
Albert held his head between his hands; he raised his face, red with shame and bathed in tears, and seizing Beauchamp's arm:—
"My friend," said he, "my life is ended. I cannot calmly say with you, 'Providence has struck the blow'; but I must discover who pursues me with this hatred, and when I have found him I will kill him, or he will kill me. I rely on your friendship to assist me, Beauchamp, if contempt has not banished it from your heart."
"Contempt, my friend! how does this misfortune affect you? No, happily that unjust prejudice is forgotten which made the son responsible for the father's actions. Review your life, Albert: although it. is only just beginning, was a summer's day ever brighter than your dawn? No, Albert, take my advice. You are young and rich: leave Paris; all is soon forgotten in the great Babylon of excited life and changing taste. You will return after three or four years with a Russian princess for a bride, and no one will think more of what occurred yesterday and still less of what happened sixteen years ago."
"Thank you, my dear Beauchamp—thank you for the excellent feeling which prompts your advice; but it cannot be thus. I have told you my wish, or, if it must be so, I will say determination. You understand ​that, interested as I am in this affair, I cannot see it in the same light as you do. What appears to you to emanate from a celestial source, seems to me to proceed from one far less pure. Providence appears to me to have no share in this affair; and happily so, for instead of the invisible, impalpable agent of celestial rewards and punishments, I shall find one both palpable and visible, on whom I shall revenge myself, I assure you, for all I have suffered during the last month. Now, I repeat, Beauchamp, I wish to return to human and material existence; and if you are still the friend you profess to be, help me to discover the hand that struck the blow."
"Be it so," said Beauchamp; "if you must have me descend to earth, I submit; and if you will seek your enemy, I will assist you, and I will engage to find him, my honor being almost as deeply interested as yours."
"Well, then, you understand, Beauchamp, that we begin our research immediately. Each moment's delay is an eternity for me. The calumniator is not yet punished, and he may hope he will not be; but, on my honor, if he thinks so, he deceives himself."
"Well, listen, Morcerf."
"Ah, Beauchamp, I see you know something already: you will restore me to life."
"I do not say there is any truth in what I am going to tell you; but it is, at least, as a light in a dark night: by following it we may, perhaps, discover something more certain."
"Tell me; satisfy my impatience."
"Well, I will tell you what I did not like to mention on my return from Janina."
"Say on."
"I went, of course, to the chief banker of the town to make inquiries. At the first word, before I had even mentioned your father's name:—"'Ah,' said he, 'I guess what brings you here.'—'How, and why?'—'Because a fortnight since I was questioned on the same subject.'—'By whom?'—'By a banker of Paris, my correspondent.'—'Whose name is——'—'Danglars.'"
"He!" cried Albert; "yes, it is indeed he who has so long pursued my father with jealous hatred. He, the man who would be popular, cannot forgive the Count de Morcerf for being created a peer; and this marriage, broken off without a reason being assigned—yes, it is all from the same cause."
"Inquire, Albert, but do not be angry without reason; inquire, and if it is true——"
​"Oh, yes, if it is true," cried the young man, "he shall pay me all I have suffered."
"Beware, Morcerf, he is already an old man."
"I will respect his age as he has respected the honor of my family; if my father had offended him, why did he not attack him personally? Oh, no, he was afraid to encounter him face to face."
"I do not condemn you, Albert; I only restrain you. Act prudently."
"Oh, do not fear; besides, you will accompany me. Beauchamp, solemn transactions should be sanctioned by a witness. Before this day closes, if M. Danglars is guilty, he shall cease to live, or I will die. Pardieu! Beauchamp, mine shall be a splendid funeral!"
"When such resolutions are made, Albert, they should be promptly executed. Do you wish to go to M. Danglars? Let us go immediately."
They sent for a cab. On entering the banker's mansion, they perceived the phaeton and servant of M. Andrea Cavalcanti.
"Ah! parbleu! that's good," said Albert, with a gloomy tone. "If M. Danglars will not fight with me, I will kill his son-in-law; Cavalcanti will certainly fight."
The servant announced the young man; but the banker, recollecting what had transpired the day before, did not wish him admitted. It was, however, too late; Albert had followed the footman, and, hearing the order given, forced the door open, and, followed by Beauchamp, found himself in the banker's cabinet.
"Sir," cried the latter, "am I no longer at liberty to receive whom I choose in my house? You appear to forget yourself sadly."
"No, sir," said Albert, coldly; "there are circumstances in which one cannot, except through cowardice—I offer you that refuge—refuse to admit certain persons at least."
"What is your errand, then, with me, sir?"
"I mean," said Albert, approaching, without apparently noticing Cavalcanti, who stood with his back toward the fireplace,—"I mean to propose a meeting in some retired corner, where no one will interrupt us for ten minutes, that will be sufficient; where two men having met, one of them will remain on the ground."
Danglars turned pale; Cavalcanti moved a step forward, and Albert turned toward him.
"And you, too," said he, "come, if you like, M. le Comte; you have a claim, being almost one of the family, and I will give as many rendezvous of that kind as I can find persons willing to accept them."
Cavalcanti looked at Danglars with a stupefied air; and the latter, making an effort, rose and advanced between the two young people. ​Albert's attack on Andrea had placed him on a different footing, and he hoped this visit had another cause than that he had at first supposed.
"Indeed, sir," said he to Albert, "if you are come to quarrel with this gentleman, because I have preferred him to you, I shall resign the case to the procureur du roi."
"You mistake, sir," said Morcerf, with a gloomy smile; "I am not alluding in the least to a marriage, and I only addressed myself to M. Cavalcanti because he appeared disposed to interfere between us. In one respect you are right, for I am ready to quarrel with every one to-day; but you have the first claim, M. Danglars."
"Sir," replied Danglars, pale with anger and fear, "I warn you, when I have the misfortune to meet with a mad dog, I kill it; and far from thinking myself guilty of a crime, I believe I do society a kindness. Now, if you are mad, and try to bite me, I will kill you without pity. Is it my fault that your father has dishonored himself?"
"Yes; miserable wretch!" cried Morcerf, "it is your fault."
Danglars retreated a few steps. "My fault!" said he; "you must be mad! What do I know of the Grecian history? Have I traveled in that country? Did I advise your father to sell the Castle of Janina―to betray——"
"Silence!" said Albert, with a thundering voice. "No; it is not you who have directly made this exposure and brought this sorrow on us, but you have hypocritically provoked it."
"I?"
"Yes; you! How came it known?"
"I suppose you read it in the paper in the account from Janina."
"Who wrote to Janina?"
"To Janina?"
"Yes. Who wrote for particulars concerning my father?"
"I imagine any one may write to Janina."
"But one person only wrote!"
"One only?"
"Yes, and that was you."
"I, doubtless, wrote. It appears to me that when about to marry your daughter to a young man, it is right to make some inquiries respecting his family; it is not only a right but a duty."
"You wrote, sir, knowing what answer you would receive."
"I, indeed! I assure you," cried Danglars, with a confidence and security proceeding less from fear than from the interest he really felt for the unhappy young man, "I solemnly declare to you, that I should never have thought of writing to Janina, had I known anything of Ali Pacha's misfortunes."
"Pardieu! it was the most simple thing in the world. I was speaking of your father's past history. I said the origin of his fortune remained obscure. The person to whom I addressed my scruples asked me where your father had acquired his property? I answered, 'In Greece.'—'Then write to Janina.'"
"And who thus advised you?"
"No other than your friend, Monte-Cristo."
"The Count of Monte-Cristo told you to write to Janina?"
"Yes; and I wrote, and will show you my correspondence, if you like."
Albert and Beauchamp looked at each other.
"Sir," said Beauchamp, who had not yet spoken, "you appear to accuse the count, who is absent from Paris at this moment, and cannot justify himself."
"I accuse no one, sir," said Danglars; "I relate, and I will repeat before the count what I have said to you."
"Does the count know what answer you received?"
"Yes; I showed it to him."
"Did he know my father's Christian name was Fernand, and his family name Mondego?"
"Yes; I had told him that long since; and I did nothing more than any other would have done in my circumstances, and perhaps less. When, the day after the arrival of this answer, your father came, by the advice of Monte-Cristo, to ask my daughter's hand for you, I decidedly refused him, but without any explanation or exposure. In short, why should I have any more to do with the affair? How did the honor or disgrace of M. de Morcerf affect me? It neither bulled nor beared the market."
Albert felt the color mounting to his brow; there was no doubt upon the subject, Danglars defended himself with the baseness, but, at the same time, with the assurance of a man who speaks the truth, at least in part, if not wholly—not for conscience' sake, but through fear. Besides, what was Morcerf seeking? It was not whether Danglars or Monte-Cristo was more or less guilty; it was a man who would answer for the offense, whether trifling or serious; it was a man who would fight, and it was evident Danglars would not fight.
In addition to this, everything forgotten or unperceived before, presented itself now to his recollection. Monte-Cristo knew everything, as he had bought the daughter of Ali Pacha; and, knowing everything, he had advised Danglars to write to Janina. The answer known, he had yielded to Albert's wish to be introduced to Haydée, and allowed the ​conversation to turn on the death of Ali, and had not opposed Haydée's recital (but having, doubtless, warned the young girl, in the few Romaic words he spoke to her, not to discover Morcerf's father). Besides, had he not begged of Morcerf not to mention his father's name before Haydée? Lastly, he had taken Albert to Normandy when he knew the final blow approached. There could be no doubt that all had been calculated and previously arranged; Monte-Cristo then was in league with his father's enemies. Albert took Beauchamp aside, and communicated these ideas to him.
"You are right," said the latter; "M. Danglars has only been a secondary agent in this affair; and it is of M. de Monte-Cristo that you must demand an explanation."
Albert turned.
"Sir," said he to Danglars, "understand that I do not take a final leave of you; I must ascertain if your insinuations are just, and am going now to inquire of the Count of Monte-Cristo."
He bowed to the banker, and went out with Beauchamp, without appearing to notice Cavalcanti. Danglars accompanied him to the door, where he again assured Albert no motive of personal hatred influenced him against the Count de Morcerf.