# The Count of Monte-Cristo/Volume 2/Chapter 45

Contents
CHAPTER XLV
THE RAIN OF BLOOD
S the jeweler returned to the apartment, he cast around him a scrutinizing glance—but there was nothing to excite suspicion, if it existed not, or to confirm it, if already awakened.
"Caderousse's hands still grasped his gold and bank-notes, and it a Carconte called up her sweetest smiles for their guest.
"Heyday!' said the jeweler, 'you seem to have had some fears respecting the accuracy of your money, by counting it over directly I was gone.'
"No, no, answered Caderousse, but the circumstances by which we have become possessed of it are so unexpected, that we cannot credit our good fortune, and without having the actual proof of our riches before our eyes, we fancy the whole affair is a dream.'
"The jeweler smiled. 'Have you any other guests in your house?' inquired he.
"Nobody but ourselves, replied Caderousse; 'the fact is, we do not lodge travelers—indeed our auberge is so near to the town, that nobody would think of stopping here.'
"Then I am afraid I shall very much inconvenience you!"
"Oh, dear me, no!—indeed, good sir, you will not,' said La Carconte, in her most gracious manner.
"But where will you manage to stow me?'
"Tn 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 jeweler, meanwhile, was humming a song as he stood warming himself by the blaze of a fagot kindled by the attentive Carconte, to dry the wet garments of her guest; and this done, she spread a napkin at ​ the end of the table, and placed on it the slender remains of their dinner, to which she added three or four fresh-laid eggs. Caderousse had replaced once more the bank-notes in the pocket-book, the gold into the bag, and the whole in the cupboard; he then commenced pacing the room with a pensive and gloomy air, glancing from time to time at the jeweler, who stood steaming before the fire, and who, as he became dry on one side, turned around to dry the other.
"'Now, then, my dear sir,' said La Carconte, as she placed a bottle of wine on the table, 'supper is ready whenever you are inclined to partake of it.'
"'But you?' asked Joannes.
"'I shall not take any supper to-night,' said Caderousse.
"'We dined so very late,' hastily interposed La Carconte.
"'Then it seems I am to eat alone,' remarked the jeweler.
"'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 one minute to another, Caderousse darted on his wife glances, rapid as lightning. The storm still continued.
"'There! there!' said La Carconte, 'do you hear that? Upon my word, you did well to return hither.'
"'Nevertheless,' replied the jeweler, 'if by the time I have finished my supper the tempest has at all abated, I shall start again.'
"'Oh,' said Caderousse, shaking his head, 'it is the mistral, and that will be sure to last till to-morrow morning.' He then sighed heavily.
"'Well,' said the jeweler, as he placed himself at table, 'so much the worse for those who are out in it.'
"'Ah!' chimed in La Carconte, 'they will have a wretched night of it.'
"The jeweler commenced eating his supper, and the woman, who was ordinarily so querulous and indifferent, was transformed into the most smiling and attentive hostess. Had the jeweler been previously acquainted with her, so sudden an alteration would have greatly astonished him, and certainly aroused suspicions. Caderousse, meanwhile, continued in silence to pace the room, sedulously avoiding the sight of his guest; but as soon as the stranger had completed his repast, the agitated aubergiste went eagerly to the door and opened it.
"'The storm seems over,' said he.
​ "Caderousse shut the door, while La Carconte lighted a candle by the smoldering ashes.
"'You must be tired,' said she to the jeweler; 'I have spread a pair of sheets on your bed, so you have nothing to do but to sleep as soundly as I wish you may.'
"Joannes remained a short time listening whether the storm seemed to abate in its fury, but when he had assured himself that the violence of the rain and thunder increased, he bade his host good-night, and mounted the stairs.
"As he passed over my head, I heard the flooring creak beneath his tread. The quick, eager glance of La Carconte followed him as he ascended the staircase, while Caderousse, on the contrary, turned his back, and seemed most anxiously to avoid even glancing at him.
"All these particulars did not strike me 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; but, worn out as I was with fatigue, and purposing to proceed onward directly the tempest abated, I determined to take a few hours' sleep.
"Overhead I could accurately distinguish every movement of the jeweler, who, after making the best arrangements in his power for passing a comfortable night, threw himself on his bed, and I could hear it creak beneath his weight.
"Insensibly my eyelids grew heavy, and having no suspicion of any thing wrong, I sought not to shake off the sleepy feeling. For the last time I looked in upon the room where Caderousse and his wife were sitting; the former was seated upon one of those low wooden stools which in country places are frequently used instead of chairs; his back being turned toward me, prevented me from seeing 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 ham Is. La Carconte gazed on him for some time; then, shrugging up her shoulders, she took her seat immediately opposite to him.
"At this moment the expiring embers caught a piece of wood that lay near, and a bright gleam was thrown on the scene and the actors in it. 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 whether she merely spoke in an undertone, or that my senses were dulled by sleep, I did not catch a word she uttered. There was a mist before my eyes, and that dreamy feeling which pre​
cedes sleep. At last my eyes closed, and I lost all consciousness. I was in this unconscious state when I was aroused by the report of a pistol, followed by a fearful cry. 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 my recollection, when again I heard groans, mingled with half-stifled cries, as if from persons engaged in a deadly struggle. A final cry ending in groans roused me from my lethargy. Hastily raising myself on one arm, I opened my eyes, but saw nothing in the dark, and raised my hand to my forehead, on which there seemed to be dropping through the ceiling, a warm abundant rain.
"To the noise had succeeded the most perfect silence unbroken, save by the footsteps of a man walking about in the chamber above. The man proceeded to the lower apartment, and went toward the fire to light a candle.
"It was Caderousse—his face pale, his shirt bloody. Having obtained the light, he hurried upstairs again, and once more I heard his rapid and uneasy step in the chamber above.
"Ere long he came below, 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 toward 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 jeweler 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 badly jointed planks yielded, and I found myself in the house. Hastily snatching up the lighted candle, I hurried to the staircase; toward the middle of it I stumbled over a corpse lying quite across the stairs. It was that of La Carconte. The pistol I had heard had been discharged at her, whose throat the ball had traversed, leaving a double wound from which, as well as the mouth, the blood was welling. She was dead, strode past her, and ascended to the sleeping-chamber, which presented ​ an appearance of the wildest disorder. The furniture had been knocked over, and the sheets, to which the unfortunate jeweler had clung, were dragged across the room: the murdered man lay on the ground, his head leaning against the wall, weltering in a gory stream, poured forth from three large wounds in his breast; there was a fourth gash, in which a large table-knife was still sticking.
"I stumbled over the second pistol, which had not gone off, probably from the powder being wet. I approached the jeweler, who was not quite dead, and at the sound of my footsteps, causing, as they did, 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, and then expired.
"This appalling sight almost bereft me of my senses, and finding that I could no longer be of service, my only desire was to fly. I rushed toward the staircase, clasping my temples with both hands, and uttering cries of horror.
"Upon reaching the room below, I found five or six custom-house officers, accompanied by an armed troop of soldiery, who immediately seized me, ere, indeed, I had sufficiently collected my ideas to offer any resistance; in truth, my senses seemed to have wholly forsaken me, and when I strove to speak, a few 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. Paralyzed with horror, I could barely indicate by a movement of my hand the spot where I had concealed myself.
"'What does he mean!' asked a gendarme.
"One of the douaniers went to the place I directed.
"'He means,' replied the man upon his return, 'that he effected his entrance by means of this hole,' showing the place where I had broken my way through the planks into the house.
"Then, and not before, the true nature of my situation flashed on me, and I saw that I was considered the guilty author of all that had occurred. With this frightful conviction of my danger, 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 riot!'
"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!'
​ "'Tush, tush!' cried the men, 'keep your innocent stories to tell to the judge at Nîmes. 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 over powered by surprise and terror; and without a word I suffered myself to be handcuffed and tied to a horse's tail, in which disgraceful plight I arrived at Nîmes.
"It seems I had been tracked by a douanier, who had lost sight of me near the auberge; feeling assured 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 at an end. One only chance was left me, that of beseeching the magistrate before whom I was taken to cause every inquiry to be made for an individual named the Abbe Busoni, who had stopped at the auberge of the Pont du Grard on the morning previous to the murder.
"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, unless Caderousse himself was apprehended and confessed the truth.
"Two months passed away; while I must do the magistrate justice by declaring he used every means to obtain information of the person I declared could exculpate me if he would. Caderousse had not been captured, and I lost all hope. My trial was to come on at the approaching sessions, when, on the 8th of September,—that is to say, precisely three months and five days after the event,—the Abbé Busoni, whom I never ventured to believe I should see, presented himself at the prison, saying he understood one of the prisoners wished to speak to him; he added that he had learned this at Marseilles, and 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 nervousness as I entered upon the history of the diamond; but, to my astonishment, he confirmed it, and to my equal surprise, he seemed to place entire belief in all I stated.
"And then it was that, won by his mild charity, perceiving him 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 affair of Auteuil, in all its details. That which I had done by the impulse of my 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 with which I stood accused. When he quitted me, he bade me be of good courage, and rely upon his doing all in his power to convince my judges of my innocence.
"I had speedy proofs that the abbé was engaged in my behalf, for the rigors of my imprisonment were alleviated, 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, throwing all the suggestion and premeditation on his wife. 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 Abbé 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; when you get out of prison, drop it.'
"'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.'
"'With thankfulness,' I exclaimed.
"'One thing you must do, 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,' said he; 'I know and admire the Corsicans! Here, take this,' continued he, after rapidly writing a few lines I brought to your excellency, and upon receipt of which you deigned to receive me into your service. And now I venture most respectfully to ask whether your excellency has ever had cause to repent having done so?"
"On the contrary, Bertuccio, you are an excellent servant, but you do not place sufficient confidence in me."
"Indeed, your excellency, I know not what you mean!"
"Simply this: 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 it to this day. By my advice, my poor sister had refused to comply with the demands of Benedetto, who was continually tormenting her for all the money in the house. One morning he threatened her, and disappeared throughout the whole of the day, leaving Assunta, who loved him as if he were her own child, to weep over his absence. Evening came, and still she watched for his return.;
"As the eleventh hour struck, he entered with two of the companions of his follies. As poor Assunta rose to clasp her truant in her arms, ​ she was seized upon by the three ruffians, while unnatural Benedetto exclaimed:
"'Let us give her a taste of the torture; that will make her find her tongue.'
"It happened that our neighbor Wasilio was at Bastia, leaving no person in his house but his wife; no human creature except she could hear or see anything that took place within our dwelling. Two of the brutal companions of Benedetto 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, while the third ruffian proceeded to barricade the doors and windows; then returning, the three united in stifling the cries uttered by the poor victim at the sight of these alarming preparations. This effected, they dragged her toward the fire, on which they forcibly held her feet, to wring from her where her treasure was secreted. In the struggle her clothes caught fire, and they were compelled 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; tortured by the agony she endured, the unfortunate sufferer flew to the windows, but they were also strongly barricaded; then her cries and shrieks of anguish filled the place; to these succeeded groans, and next morning, as soon as the wife of Wasilio could 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; and every drawer forced open, and 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 tragical 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 tone of sadness.
"And now," resumed Bertuccio, "your excellency may, perhaps, be able to comprehend that this place, which I revisit for the first time,—this garden, the scene of my crime,—must have given rise to the gloomy reflections of which you wished to know the cause. At this instant a shudder passes over me as I reflect that possibly I am now standing on
​ "It may be so," said Monte-Cristo, rising from the bench on which he had been sitting; "but," added he, in a lower tone, "whether the procureur du roi be dead or riot, the Abbe Busoni did right to send you to me, and you have also acted extremely proper 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; if I knew where he was, in place of going to him, I would fly as from a monster. Thank God, I have never heard his name mentioned by any person, and I hope he is dead."
"Have no such hope," replied the count, "the bad do not die so. God seems to take them under his care to make them instruments of his vengeance."
"I am content to have him live," continued Bertuccio, "so that he spares me the misery of ever again beholding him. And now, M. le Comte," added the steward, bending humbly forward, "you know every secret of my life—you are my judge on earth, as the Almighty is in heaven—have you no words of consolation to bestow on a repentant sinner?"
"I can only say to you, what Busoni would say. Villefort, the man you killed, merited punishment for the wrongs he had done you, and, it may be, for other crimes likewise. Benedetto, if still living, will 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."
"True, my lord; there, as you say, I acted wickedly, and, moreover, cowardly. My first duty, directly I had succeeded in recalling the babe to life, should have been to have restored 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 our vengeance. Perhaps, too, the mere love of life made me cling to life. And then, again, I was not formed as brave as my poor brother."
Bertuccio hid his face in his hands as he uttered these words, while Monte-Cristo fixed on him a long and indescribable gaze. 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 befitting termination (as I promise you never again to revert to it), I will repeat to you some words ​ I have heard from the Abbe Busoni himself, and which I recommend you to treasure up: that all earthly ills yield to two all-potent remedies—time and silence. And now leave me; I would enjoy the cool solitude of this place. What causes you, as a principal in the tragic scene, such painful emotions, will be to me, on the contrary, a source of extreme delight, and serve but to enhance the value of this dwelling. Trees, Bertuccio, please us by their shade, and the shade pleases us because it is full of dreams and visions. I bought a garden, thinking I had bought a mere inclosure with walls round it, and nothing more. I find this iuclosure a garden full of phantoms, not specified in the bill of sale. I like phantoms, 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 one single day. Retire, Bertuccio, and sleep in peace. 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 that 'bourne from whence no traveler returns.'"
Bertuccio bowed lowly and respectfully, and turned away, sighing heavily as he quitted his patron. When he had quite disappeared, Monte-Cristo arose, and, taking three or four steps onward, he 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 regained the house and reentered 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 toward Paris.
​ "It is half-past eleven o'clock; Haydee will not be long ere she arrives. Have the French attendants been summoned to await her coming?"
Ali extended his hands toward the apartments destined for the fair Greek, which were at a distance from the habitable part of the dwelling, and so effectually concealed, by means of a tapestried entrance, that it would have puzzled the most curious to have divined that beyond that spot lay hid a suite of rooms fitted up with a rich magnificence worthy of the lovely being who was to tenant them. Ali, having pointed to the apartments, counted three on the 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 panto mime; "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.
"The young lady must needs be fatigued with her journey," continued Monte-Cristo, "and will, no doubt, wish to retire to rest. Desire the French attendants not to talk, but merely to pay their respectful duty and retire. You will also see that the Greek servant holds no communication with those of this country."
Ali bowed obediently and reverentially. Just at that moment voices were heard hailing the concierge. The gate opened, a carriage rolled down the avenue, and stopped at the flight of steps leading to the house. The count hastily descended, and presented himself at the already opened carriage-door to assist a young woman, completely enveloped in a mantle of green and gold, to alight. She raised the hand extended toward 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 with an expression of deep tenderness on her part, and with an air of gravity on the part of the count.